Major Shōgun Ep. 9 spoilers:

Yabushige truly gives meaning to the term 'rat bastard'. Toranaga factored his inevitable betrayal into his plans, and Yabushige STILL somehow managed to spring a surprise betrayal. If it wasn't so horrible, it would be impressive how two-faced the man manages to be.

So, about Mariko .... (I'm actually glad I randomly got spoiled the day before seeing this episode and was prepared otherwise I would not have survived what happened to her.)

My take ... Mariko's death was 'pointless' in the same way Nagakado's death was pointless. Nagakado died a senseless death that failed to accomplish anything, but then Toranaga gave his son's death meaning and honour by thanking Nagakado for dying to earn him some time. Mariko blocking the door with her own body served nothing in the sense that it wouldn't prevent Ishido's men from getting in nor did it change the fate of anyone else in that room. But by choosing to sacrifice herself like that and die at the hands of Ishido's agents, Mariko derailed Ishido's plan to take her captive and ensured she'd become a martyr to Toranaga's cause. Mariko not only fulfilled Toranaga's plan, she exceeded it.

Mariko's mission was to get the hostages freed or die trying and in so doing force Ishido to dishonour himself by openly revealing his hand instead of keeping up the facade that he's not keeping anyone against their will. Mariko did both: got the hostages freed and died a martyr to the cause. (Yes, Ishido may choose to turn around and keep the hostages anyway instead of releasing them as agreed, but in doing so he'll only dishonour himself further and lose more support.)

When Toranaga gets to Osaka, he'll have the moral highground and the support of the other samurai families who didn't want Mariko to die like that and who now see Ishido for what he really is. (Also, when the time comes, I think the Christian Regents will now be prepared to turn against Ishido.)

And Mariko got what she'd wanted all along: dying with honour in response to what happened to her family. Her death was meaningful. She served her duty like her father told her to. And she got to spend her last night being at peace and experiencing something like happiness with John.

Buntaro dishonoured her for so many years by keeping her alive for selfish reasons and when he finally offered her the release of death, it was also for selfish reasons. Buntaro was only willing to allow her to finally die because HE wanted to die then and wouldn't be affected by her death since he'd be gone too. Buntaro ordered Mariko to stay alive. John asked Mariko to stay alive many times, and when she ultimately wouldn't change her mind, he not only accepted and respected her decision, he honoured it by offering to second her. Mariko died knowing John finally understood. He finally got it.

Mariko died, and now she is finally free.

EDIT to add:

She died calling herself Akechi Mariko instead of Toda Mariko. She disavowed her husband and her unwanted marriage with her last words. She was truly freeing herself!!!

I’m going through a mental crisis of trying to get my brain to STOP SHIPPING tanguish and hels. I hate life… I’d still live to read your fanfic tho :)

the ask part now… what’s the difference between Tanguish’s and Tango’s personality? Just curious since they act pretty similar in my mind. :)

(I love you can I marry you 💍, from your friend Duck… don’t listen to my username I made it like 6 years ago).

Tango and Tanguish are pretty similar! I thought it would be neat for them to be. I was told a long time ago you tend to hate the most in others the things you hate about yourself [which has led to,,, a lot of paranoia over the years come to think of it] but it seemed like a cool way to build a codependent helsmet.

More under the read more since it gets a little long.

If I had to pin down differences though, I would say Tango has a more dominant personality, whereas Tanguish spends a lot of time trying not to take up much space. Tanguish makes himself small, says appeasing things, and prioritizes getting other people talking as opposed to talking himself. He wants to go unnoticed, be a background character. Tango wants to be a main character. He's bigger, isn't afraid of taking up space, and likes being loud and exuberant.

Tango thinks his eccentricities make him more interesting, Tanguish thinks his eccentricities need to be hidden.

Their differences are more in line with how they want people to see them, as opposed to actual differences. I would also say Tanguish is a more proactive character than Tango. Tango lets things happen to him [and gets disappointed by negative outcomes in a "this was inevitable" kind of way] while Tanguish is learning through the plot to make things happen. He is still disappointed by negative outcomes, but he has a more personal stake in that disappointment.

On the shipping thing:

If it's any consolation you are not the only person who thinks they're shippable! Buried somewhere on the tags of one of my Tumblr snippets [or in my ask box somewhere maybe?] someone said Hels and Tanguish should kiss, and sometimes that comment haunts the back of my head while I'm writing, quietly reminding me it exists and the ship would probably be adorable once Hels stopped being toxic.

By all means ship them if you want! This whole hels AU thing started as just me having fun I'm not going to stop other people from having fun as well lol you'll just have to forgive me if I don't ship them myself. Platonic love, non-romantic love, is so, so dear to me <3 people don't write it enough.

(Also so sorry I cannot marry you. You must complete one quest of Grail-like significance and contest in at least 7 jousts with my token as your banner before you may ask for my hand. Your family crest is a duck now. Enjoy!)

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers ❤️

Thank you to @yletylyf and @danpuff-ao3 for the invitation and reminding me to think about fic! It’s one in the morning, I had four hours sleep last night, and I’m going to entertain myself by seeing how coherent/interesting I can make this.

Anyone else want to play? @ac1d6urn, @writcraft, @liladiurne, @squibstress, @titconao3 - do you have favorites?

The first two picks are easy:

1. When the Rose and the Fire Are One - My first fanfic! Snape/Harry, my OTP before I knew what the acronym meant, my first experience of fandom, a love letter to the pairing and the Snape-centric LiveJournal community I had serendipitously stumbled upon. Written for the Snarry Games, thus finished on a (several times extended) deadline after pulling an all-nighter. I was talking shop with a writer friend recently about themes, as in “in 20 words or less, tell us the theme of your story,” and we agreed that it grows organically out of the writing and we have no idea what the theme is before we muddle through the first draft, nor do we care. (My friend writes pro fic, but she never condescends when I talk about my fanfic as if the creative process is the same - because it is in many ways, with the exception of professional editing in her case.) Well, I lied, because this fic was consciously and passionately written with the themes of freedom and beauty in mind. In canon, Snape is a character who never gets to experience adulthood free of masters; he signs up to be a pawn not once, but twice. I wanted to give him - for Harry to give him - that freedom, while at the same time presenting the temptation of a third master. The fact that Harry loves him by the end doesn’t make that beholden-ness less true. I was also determined to show that even someone raised in financial and emotional poverty, associated with ugliness, trapped in an ugly life, was capable of beauty under the right circumstances. Yes, I was up my own arse about this fic, but that’s okay because it made it more personal and intense. It was also, as I’ve mentioned elsewhere, my first time writing a sex scene, and I jumped in at the deep end with glorious abandon. As one may gather from subsequent fics, I proceeded to make up for lost time and contribute to the mainstream perception that fanfic = smut.

2. The White Road - If there’s one fic I’m known for among Snarry readers, it’s this. Why? Because it’s set in Lily’s POV in the afterlife? Because it positions her as a voyeur, a mother watching the fork in the road of her child’s future, someone with the right to judge Snape? (The voyeurism aspect turned a lot of readers off.) Because it has a cracky premise treated seriously? Because it’s nonlinear? (No. For some, this was a bug, not a feature.) Because, as a recent bookmark proclaims, it’s “such a weird fic”? Mostly it was me wresting a different ending out of the ruins of Snape’s canon demise and the utter bollocks of the epilogue; it was a purgative experience. I think for Snarry readers at the time, in the year after the series ended, it touched a communal nerve. Snape fandom remained in turmoil for quite a while after the Lily reveal and Snape’s redemption by death (a redemption currently much disputed). At this point, 15 years down the line, perceptions of Snape have changed so drastically the fic no longer has that cathartic effect, if that’s what it was. Readers are less inclined to be consoled or sympathetic. But the chutzpah of putting Lily’s voice at the center - of turning her into a Snarry shipper, to be flippant about it - well, I’m still surprised I pulled it off. And this fic, like Rose & Fire above, vibrates with so much of my joy in fandom at the time, love for my OTP, for the stories being written about them, for the exuberant emotional engagement on all sides, that I'll always be able to dip into it and be transported back to that creative ferment and sense of belonging. I think it’s one of my best fics, but my love for it goes deeper than its relative worth as a story. It’s a memento of one of the best periods of my life.

Now things get tricky. I’m pretty sure the five, arrrgh, five WIPs I’m working on would be eligible for this list, but since at this stage only I can know what makes them favorites, I have to make other choices. And I haven’t written very many fics, you see.

3 & 4. In Infinite Remorse of Soul (Snape/Dumbledore, Snape/Harry-ish) and And Mine the Gall (concluding the Dumbledore arc from the earlier story, and going further with the Snape/Harry-ish mess) - I put these together because they were conceived as a single narrative, but In Infinite Remorse was written for a fest with a word count limit, so I posted the rest of it as a separate fic. Which turned out to be the right choice since the second fic is the darkest thing I’ve ever written. These linked stories were inspired by Dumbledore’s words to Snape in The Prince’s Tale - “You disgust me” - and how he condescends to and sometimes makes a fool of Snape in the books, when the poor bastard is simply trying to abide by Dumbledore’s expectations. Dumbledore is a fascinating character, but his lack of generosity toward Snape - his tendency to treat Snape’s moral worth as disposable when it’s clearly one of the things Snape struggles with throughout his life - caught my attention. It’s a counterweight to all the examples of Dumbledore’s wisdom, his concern for other characters. Even Draco has more charity and protection bestowed on him than Dumbledore ever gives Snape. And I decided to run with that idea because surely what Snape suffers and the loyalty he demonstrates deserves more than a “Poor Severus...” afterthought. What would it have done to his soul to never once be thanked, to have Dumbledore pass over his sacrifices while lavishing time and explanations on Harry? Yes, Voldemort’s defeat depends on Harry going back to fight. But what would Snape’s reaction be to learning that Dumbledore knew of a way for Harry to survive - counted on it, in fact - and lied about it to Snape’s face? From there I decided to chart Snape’s moral collapse and his “fuck it all” desire to go after something (someone) he wants for himself - destroying every moral gain he’d so painfully acquired because in the end the authority figure who was his role model took it so much for granted he even forgot to say “thank you.” And then I went for something twisted and frightening because I think a Snape who no longer believes in anything - who feels nothing he did in his life ever actually redeemed him - would be terribly destructive.

On a less dark note, I enjoyed writing a florid and heavily metaphorical prose for Dumbledore’s POV, mostly to suggest the complex and not always praiseworthy workings of his mind. He’s one of canon’s most intelligent characters, bent up into plot contrivances for the consumption of children, and I didn’t want to rehash his canon schemes because they rely too much on coincidence and authorial fiat. (Plus: word count.) I tried to show how his calculations and his roots in the Victorian era might influence his interior monologues. As for Snape? I just enjoyed letting his worst impulses off the leash. (Some readers haaate And Mine the Gall.) (Where is my evil grin emoji?)

5. Hmm, the last choice should be split between my creepy massage kink/character study Soft Touch, but I’m feeling rather listless about that one at the moment, so No Room for the Weak it is. Another oldie, functionally a gen fic with pre-slash Snarry vibes, it evolved from my interest in Snape’s mum Eileen. Snape fans often assume she’s dead in canon, probably because she’s not referenced past a certain point in his childhood and doesn’t appear in the Spinner’s End chapter. So I wrote this fic about Eileen trying to come to grips with her son’s violent death and all the contradictory rumors clouding his reputation. It was a chance to explore what kind of mother would produce a kid like Severus and to ponder how he seems to lack any instinct for distinguishing right from wrong. His upbringing left him morally deficient - in fact, clueless. I also tried to pull off a bit of a plot twist, just to see if I could string readers along. Also, tip o’ the hat to Joy Division. Best of all, IMO, I nailed the ending. I found exactly the words I wanted, and I’m pretty confident the story earned them. (Same with The White Road. And Mine the Gall … maybe.)

About the Fanfic you writing "little-wing" can you a second part? 💗🐈

Little-Wing 2

Dick Grayson X Wife! Reader

Kid! Jason Todd X dad! Dick & mom! Reader

Warnings:heavy angst, sniper, major character injury & suggestive content

Words:1600

Grayson recovers from his accident but it isn't the last of the family's troubles.

Grayson laid in icu after his surgery. The accident caused his lungs to collapse and because of that he now had a chest tube between his ribs. He had broken his right arm and right leg. He has been unconscious for 9 hours. The Dr still wouldn't allow me to see him yet. I went to the vending machine to get Jason and I a snack. My hands are still shaken each time I use them as I remained on edge.

"may I offer my assistance?" I hear Alfred say.

I look to him with my eyes shaken. I reach hugging him. Alfred and I walk to the waiting room. My heart sinks not seeing Jason. I quickly call him.

"pick up! Pick up! Pick up! You better be in the bathroom"

Jason's P. O. V

"you don't have to answer I'll text her" Bruce offered. "however I advise you to talk to her"

I nodded crouching further up as I lay my head down on my knees. I couldn't stop imagining him being angry or upset and him not paying perfectly attention while driving his motorcycle and then crashing. We sat together in the back of the hospital. Bruce took his phone out texting my mom. This is my fault. I raise to my feet. Bruce stands with me. He reaches down drying the tears, off of my cheeks. Bruce placed his hand on my back as we went to the waiting room. I see Mom with Alfred. She gently rubbed her thumb against my cheek.

"you want to go talk?" she suggested

I nodded holding her hand. Mom and I went outside. She stayed quiet letting me have control in the conversation. We sat on the bench. She let go of my hand and began to rub my forehead. I can't keep this bottled inside.

"if I hadn't had upset him he wouldn't be here. We both know how he gets upset and c-can't focus!"

"oh Jason baby. This was not your fault. You mean the world to Grayson and I. It was an accident by another vehicle, not him. You are our boy. You--" she stammered as I quickly embrace her.

I let myself fall apart for a minute. She kisses my temple gently rocking us. We walk to the waiting room.

"I really hate being here again.."

"what do you mean?" she asked me

"you know my biological mother was really bad into that.. poison.. I spent a lot of time in this building waiting knowing her chances were slim each time.. I.. You and Grayson.. I don't want to lose either of you. You're all I've got left"

She motherly cups my face and kissed my head.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you. You did nothing to deserve that. We love you too and we're always going to be here for you"

6 hours later the Dr said he was awake and was now in recovery. Mom and I went to see him. I stood from afar as she slowly walked to him. He looked terrible. My hands want to shake.

Y/N's P. O. V

Grayson softly smiled "H.. Hey"

I slowly walk to him as I can't hold my tears back. I lean down to his lips he uses his good hand to touch my face. He deepened the kiss. I part so we could breathe. I began rubbing his forehead soothingly.

"you scared me boy blunder"

"me too" he mumbled he looked in the direction of our son "Jay?.."

Jason walked closer with his arms folded. Grayson reaches to him wincing outwardly. Jason moved his hand back down.

"don't" he snapped

Dick opened his hand to Jason. He held his hand taking a deep breath forcing tears back. I gently rub Jason's back as he began to cry.

"I'm.. OK" Dick forced outwardly as his breathing was shallow. "can't keep your old man down" he softly laughed

Grayson's P. O. V

It broke my heart that I couldn't properly console him. I'd never seen him this upset. For the last few weeks we practically lived at the hospital as I slowly began to recover. Jason barely spoke to me, I could see all over him how upset he was. I tried getting through to him but he'd try to make me stop worried I was over exerting myself.. So my breath is really shallow.. I'm fine. Trying to convince my wife of that fact when I'm finally ready to go on patrol was hard. Especially with her being followed last night by someone we couldn't find after the fact.. While on patrol. I hear a bullet hit the wall right beside my chest. I quickly moved out of his line of range.

I quickly touch my intercom "are you okay?!"

Jason shouts on my intercom "did the bullet hit you?! Are you bleeding?!" I sigh in relief, he didn't shoot him...

"I'm ok stay lo--"

Jason appears panicked gripping my wrist looking for a injury that wasn't there. I tried to get him to hear me "are you hurt?!" Jason practically yelled

"son, son, son, calm down" he began to loose his breath, I quickly kneel down to his eye level "hey, hey shhh I'm ok, I'm ok son" anxiety attack. I guide him to the back of the alleyway "hey Robin look at me" he looks at me as his eyes water "focus on my breathing, ok?" I follow through with the breathing exercise Bruce taught me. Jason mimicked me calming down "there you go, good job kiddo. You feel better? You ok?"

Jason looks down in shame. I knew he was trying to stay strong. I didn't know exactly where it anxiety originated from. Losing his mom? His dad abusing him? It didn't matter to me what, mattered was making sure I am here for him. I use a spy-bug to look for the sniper but he was gone. He left no trace of his existence.

"hey don't feel bad. You are allowed to feel scared or worried. It's OK, it's OK" I dry his tears "everything's going to be OK kiddo.. Let's go home"

"but the sniper?"

"he's gone besides I'm more concerned about you right now"

I lift Jason into my arms and take him home. I lay him in his bed. He had fallen asleep. I take his shoes off following by with his gear. I lay his blanket on him. He grips my wrist. I kneel down to him. His lips tremble as he tightly closed his eyes. I reach hugging him Jason buried his face in my neck. I hold him as I lay on his bed. He needs me. He needed to feel protected

"I don't want you to die Dad" he cried

"H-hey don't you dare worry about a thing like that kiddo. I'm right here" I hug him tighter "I am right here son"

... I feel a soft blanket laid on me. I reach for her hand pulling it down to motion her to lay with us. She kisses my neck and then laid on the other side of Jason. She kisses his sleeping face. He was so emotional that he was sniffing and stuttering while he slept. Y/N rubs her thumb against my face. I move my arm under her neck so she could lay on my shoulder.... I smell bacon being cooked in the kitchen. I walk into the kitchen seeing her flip the pancake onto the plate with bacon.

"hey honey" she greeted

"hey sexy. Let me change and then I'll enjoy your delicious food!!" I excitedly said

I change clothes quickly craving the food but Y/N more. I come back into the kitchen and kiss her. She gives me a plate of food.

"I looove you"

She chuckled kissing my cheek and sits with me on the kitchen table. We enjoy the food and each other's presence in the early morning.

"there's a sniper in Bludhaven. He took a shot at me--" she quickly cut me off

"wait what?! You were shot at? Are you ok?"

"I'm ok baby. Honest" I ensure taking her hand as she deeply breaths in and out. "I couldn't find him--" I see her face fall "hey I'm ok"

"no patrol tonight" she said with haist

I sighed, this is not going to go over well "Baby--"

"don't Baby me Grayson!! You were shot last night. I need a break from you almost getting killed" she pleaded

"Y/N you know exactly how my line of work is dangerous. I am constantly in danger to make this world a little bit better sometimes I get hurt other times I am lucky"

"it's not luck dammit Grayson!" her eyes start to shake. I rub her arm letting her let get her anguish out "don't you see that someone is trying to kill you!!" she shouted shakily "Grayson maybe the accident wasn't an accident.. You were shot at by a sniper right after you went back to patrol. Before that I was being followed.. I need to know that my husband and my son are OK"

"hey c'mere" we lean to each other. I hug her and kiss her "I get it I know I'm probably being targeted but I'm not going to find out by just standing here. I'll do a little bit of detective work from home ok"

"okay" she nodded drying her tears

I lay her head down on my shoulder and rub her back. I could feel the weight of her emotions. I kiss her head.

"I love you" I whisper in her ear.

Hello Vinelle! Big fan of your and Muffin's meta. May I ask: I vaguely remember that you two have a discord server, but I am unsure whether that is the Patreon-only server for rank heresy? I know you two have some writing session stream(?) and fanfic challenge as rank heresy blog has mentioned, but may I ask what else would you do on that server? I am not sure whether or not I want to join...I mean, it is always a delight to see you two post here, but I am a bit socially awkward, sometimes being in a big Discord server scares me considering Discord requires more... socialising? That's why I...I can't call myself a Discord person haha. Thank you again and have a nice day!

We used to have two, one Patreon only and one for all, but then we realized that was dumb and deleted the latter (As we had put much better work into the infrastructure of the Rank Heresy server).

Now the RH server is available to all, with only a few channel permissions that you'll never notice making it a special treatment for patreons.

The sub's main attraction is the weekly book club. We gather every Sunday night (10 PM GMT+1) and either Muffin or I or both read a chapter of a book, at the moment it's Deathly Hallows. It's hilarious and horrible, we do it in a normal voice channel so anybody can chime in with conversation or be mute if they want.

There's also the budging new, currently vacationblocked, tradition of watching me play video games. Specifically, Red Dead Redemption 2. The attraction is that I'm completely new to video games and horrified with all the crime, therefore completely and pathetically dependent on the server helping me out and consoling me when bad things happen to Arthur.

Writing sessions wound up not happening much, I suppose if there's interest we could try picking it up again. We also answer questions people may have about our fics.

I think that's about it, a discord is what you make of it.

Happy to DM you a link!

Check the Name - a Kim Possible fanfic

“Besides, I am an evil genius, I can work out the — what are you doing?”

Without a word, Kim input a password that immediately opened the door. Drakken’s jaw dropped as she rested her knuckles against her hips. “Coco Moo?” she chided.

Drakken bit his tongue and walked into the next room, grumbling all the kids-these-days and why-I-oughttas. Kim strutted into the room to find it nearly empty, the dusty cavern only home to a refrigerator and a rusty Li’l Diablos toy, left over from the invasion one year back.

“Surprised?” Drakken asked with glee, immediately heading to the fridge.

“Not really, I figured this would be the last one,” Kim sighed. “You really should of given this back to Global Justice.”

“Along with my other toys?” he smirked.

“Fair enough,” she shot back.

“I really don’t see the point of all this.” Dr. Drakken grumbled as he lead Kimberly Ann Possible down the cobwebb lined hallways to one of his many defunct lairs.  Not braving to make eye contact with the girl, he insisted on throwing his deep villainous voice down the halls. He may not have rolled with the baddies anymore, but that didn’t mean he needed to be nice to the gal who strong-armed that transition into him.  “You’ve proven many times over to me Kimberly Ann that you really are all that.” “Uh huh, tell me more about myself,” Kim grinned sharply, dressed in a tight black tank-top and gray cargo shorts, hair tied back into a ponytail, bangs pinned back.  Her well-toned arms glistened with far more sweat than Brick Flagg ever gathered from playing football. To reach the bad doctor’s lair, Kim opted to scale the entire cliff face without any assistant from volunteer drivers or even Wade’s ahead-of-its-time equipment.  This visit was off-the-books from Team Possible, so she needed it to be lowkey as possible, and of course she was never one to scoff at a challenge. “Ugh,” Drakken rolled his eyes, voice raising into a shrill register that had previously been reserved only for Shego. “Your generation is so self-obsessed.  It’s just me! me! me! all the time.” “Yep, sounds about right,” Kim sighed.  The first few times they engaged in the art of long-form banter, she quickly understood why Shego had stuck by ol’ Drew Lipsky’s side for so long; it was fun to get a rise out of him.  But then after some time, it became draining and she understood why she vanished without a trace after the Lowardian Invasion. “Why back in my day,” Drakken gestured towards himself, still not looking back to Kim, which was good because she was checking her messages on the Kimmunicator.  One from Ron and one from Wade. Ron [8:42PM] Hey, KP.  It’s pretty late, you planning on turning in tonight?  

Wade [5:18PM] Kim, you know how I feel about you going off the grid like this.   “Ooooooh, you’re on your phone now?!” Drakken snapped, tired eyes finally falling onto her.  He plucked the Kimmunicator from her hands and dropped it into his lab-coat. “Not on my time Possible.” She smirked.  It was for the best, and he knew that as much as she did.  “So how was the memoir writing today?” Drakken’s sneer fluttered into an excitable grin.  “Ooh! Today I was hot!  I did a whole chapter on the time I used Time Travel to become The Supreme One and take over the world!” “Yeah — pretty sure that never happened.” Drakken waved his finger in the air, stopping right before a three foot thick steel door, “Nyaaah!  You wouldn’t remember — it was time travel after all”  He crossed his arms defiantly. “Riiiiight,” Kim drawled, strutting past Drakken and over to the console. “Besides, I am an evil genius, I can work out the — what are you doing?” Without a word, Kim input a password that immediately opened the door.  Drakken’s jaw dropped as she rested her knuckles against her hips. “Coco Moo?” she chided. Drakken bit his tongue and walked into the next room, grumbling all the kids-these-days and why-I-oughttas.  Kim strutted into the room to find it nearly empty, the dusty cavern only home to a refrigerator and a rusty Li’l Diablos toy, left over from the invasion one year back.   “Surprised?” Drakken asked with glee, immediately heading to the fridge. “Not really, I figured this would be the last one,” Kim sighed.  “You really should of given this back to Global Justice.” “Along with my other toys?” he smirked. “Fair enough,” she shot back. This had been going on for a month now.  The week before was an entire army of Bebe-Bots.  The week before that was a surprisingly effective combination of the Ron-Man muscle ring, his world saving plant cocotion, Brainwashing Shampoo, and the Attitudinator.  And the week before that was the Pans-Dimensional-Vortex-Inducer which Drakken couldn’t figure out how to work it so Kim ended up just ghostwriting a chapter of It was a Tuesday.... Aside from those, every other outsourced invention had been returned to its original owner.  The handful of original Drakken-opuses were donated to Global Justice.  It was part of his deal with GJ to stay out of prison. Kim, being GJ’s summer intern, was tasked with weekly check-ins to make sure the Bad Doctor was holding to his word. “Go ahead, knock yourself out,” Drakken smirked, immediately diving to rummage through the fridge. The little yellow eyes of the toy glowed and within seconds Kim went from needing to squint to stepping out of the monstrosity’s shadow.  The Diablos quickly raised its claw and fired off a laser at Kim. Grinning, Kim vaulted backwards just in time to watch the green light smash bits of cement across the room. “It is set to non-lethal, right?” Kim raised an eyebrow. “Ooooh,” Drakken practically fluttered, despite the loose flap of swiss cheese in his mouth and the tightly lidded pickle jar nearly slipping out of his grip. “Guy tries to take over the world for three years and you still can’t let it go!” “Sure,” Kim drawled, somersaulting away from another beam.  “Well call me over if you need help with Operation Gherkin over there.” “Ooh!  The mouth on you!” A lot had changed in the past month, so it was relaxing to have some familiarity locked in with someone. Her muscles pulled taut as she flipped around the room, only able to navigate the perimeter.  Had Ron been at her side, this would have been an easy takedown, but he wasn’t there; she needed him not to be.

“You really think I’m ready KP?” Kim entered the bedroom expecting to see Ron tapped out for the night, but instead found him still in street clothes, sitting on the bedside.  “I mean, I’ve gone solo before, but this is — ” he rubbed his wrist. “ — different.”  “Of course you are, Ron.  You’ve always been ready,” she grinned, squeezing his hand and she could feel the immediate release of tension.    Ron rubbed the back of his neck.  “It’s just kind of a bummer that — ya know — me fulfilling my potential and everything also means —”  “Trust me, I know.”

Kim’s body roared for relief as she vaulted away from beam after beam, but to stop would mean getting nailed by the scathing energy and this bot was showing no signs of stopping, which meant she couldn’t either. But to evade every blast was realistically going to wear her out.  She was only human. Unlike her Mystical Monkey Power Master boyfriend, and if Ron was there in her place, the battle would be over in seconds.  Kim grimaced, knowing that the only way to get out of this was to let go of her fear and learn a harsh lesson in how to take a hit. Kim ducked inward, bee-lining for the center where the Li’l Diablos soullessly stared back at her.  She saw the green glow ignite on the claw and leapt into the air, just in time for the laser to nail her in the back.   Her chest heaved as her hands braced herself for impact with the floor.  She flipped her hair out of her eyes and darted ahead, finally able to slip past the fire of the Diablos. As it lowered its claw to line up the best shot, Kim was just skimming ahead. She nearly collapsed from exhaustion when she reached the leg of the Diablos, leaning against the steel for support. The robot twisted in a circle, cannon pointed down as she danced with its movements, again staying out of range.  Finally, she could think straight. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, briefly acknowledging the searing pain in her back.  She was so not looking forward to having to clean up the wounds later.  Wounds that would need to be kept private from Ron. “Hey Drakken!” Kim cried out, “What?” he snapped, pickle jar still wedged between his arm, an almost finished sandwich dangling from his mouth.   “Hold that pose,” Kim smirked, kicking off one of her combat boots.   Drakken raised an eyebrow as he tried to put two and two together, but by the time he figured it out, Kim’s plan was already in motion.  Carefully lining up the shot, Kim tossed her boot into the air and the Li’l Diablos’s cannon swung up and fired a beam, incinerating the poor shoe.   But the beam showed no signs of stopping and flew across the room, striking the lid of Drakken’s pickle jar, and bounced back, destroying the cannon in one earth shattering kaboom. She let out a very tangible sigh of relief; strategy like that before was only something that came out of Ron’s buffoonery, but now she was doing it in her own little solo act. And with that the game was finally on. She didn’t want to let her nerves get her so with nary a thought, she rolled out from under the robot, turning on her heel and flipped backwards, just barely avoiding a quick swing from the now smoking Diablos. She landed with her feet firmly planted, teeth ground so tightly together that she needed to remember to loosen her jaw, or she’d wake up the next day with a head ache. Drakken leaned back against the fridge, forgoing the pickles, because he was about to see quite the show. Kim pounced forward, ducking below another swing, and then flipped into the air, successfully landing on the Diablos’ arm in a move that by the way — won the cheer regionals.  Rearing back, she wrapped her gloved hands firmly around the steel lining as it attempted to throw her off, and in a brief lapse from the bot, she launched herself once again into the air and onto the helm. Briefly, this was a victorious moment but then she remembered that she actually had no idea how she was going to take this thing down.  Unlike before, there was no big radio tower to destroy which meant — She cringed. Looking down, she saw a tiny hole at the top of the helm that was the size of say — a naked mole rat.  But without any weapons, her best bet at the moment was to maybe aggressively shove a hair tie down there, but that was dumb. “It is this, right?” she asked Drakken with a dumbfounded expression.  He nodded back solemnly. “Well, happy birthday to — ” Before she could finish, the Diablos managed to wriggle her off the top and while she was still mid-air, before she could have the dignity of ground level, the robot whirled around and spiked her straight into the cement. The claw ripped into her already scorched back and she tumbled against the floor, elbow arched dangerously over her shoulder as she glared up.  She could feel the sting of blood seeping through her tank top and knew that she would need to construct quite a tale to explain this injury away to Ron, and he had already been surprisingly skeptical. She leered up at this monstrosity towering over her and easily imagined Drakken reaching for the remote to end the fight. “Don’t you dare,” she shouted in a steady voice. “You — Kimberly Ann — I wasn’t thinking!” he sputtered, “You can’t beat this thing on your own — it’s impossible!” “Yeah?” Kim grinned.  “Well check the name.” She could do anything; it was her tagline, and while it was an exaggeration far from the truth, it made her feel sick to her stomach to pale before the mission. The Diablos didn’t hesitate in stabbing straight ahead, Kim narrowly avoiding the jab by stumbling to the side.  Before the claw retracted, she leapt forward and grabbed onto the claw and once again found herself on top the bot.  She couldn’t give up now; no way no how. And she leaped off the claw and over to the still smoldering cannon, and reaching her hands into the ashy mess and before long, she found herself pulling HARD on a rusted pole that was left sticking out of the bot.  Fortunately, the pole held her down as the robot rampaged around the room. She let up on her pull and focused more on her little rodeo show. Because to do anything else would kill her probably. She needed to see Ron that night.  Yes, she was really, really late, but she couldn’t just not see his face.  This was for him. For them really. Warhok was going to mount her as a trophy.  She could have failed the entire world, but fortunately that was the same moment Ron stepped up his game.  Warhok tossed her aside like a rag-doll, eager for an actual challenge she couldn’t provide. Yes, she had saved Ron’s life many times before and he was so due for one, but that didn’t make this any easier. She really hoped he would understand, and in a one second long lapse of swinging from the Diablo, the pain crawled back in fast, and she pounced one final time back to the top of the robot and with perfect precision, she jammed that pole down that stupid robot’s Empire styled thermal exhaust port. She could audibly hear the behemoth shutting down before it collapsed onto the ground below.  Body now screaming for a hot bath and some tender self-care, she was once again leaning against the pole, this time unable to stand. “Wow, that was pretty good I gotta say, Doc,” Kim heaved but Drakken didn’t seem impressed.  If anything, he looked more nervous than anything. Kim narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me there’s mor—” And then her head was sent throbbing by a very well-aimed kicked to her temple.  Somehow a foot had slipped through that tiny hole, knocked away the pole, and connected with her face.  She rocked backwards and fell off the bot and flat on her back to find herself staring up at the ominous figure of the alleged pilot of the Diablo — “Hello Kim,” he said in his crisp preppy voice.  “You remember me right? Your boyfriend? Eric?” Kim’s eyes immediately dug deep into Drakken’s soul.  “No, sorry, I’d rather call you Synthrone 901,” she said more to the room than anyone in it.  “Also what? He was alive?” “I — uh — ” Drakken had to put his sandwich down for this.  “Reinvented him? Thought it’d be good for your fighter’s spirit?  Heh?” Kim rolled her eyes from the bad doctor over to Eric.  “Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t do it earlier,” she admitted.  “Good plot, Doc.” Eric dropped down to the floor, arms raised and ready to brawl.  “So you’re dating that loser now, huh?” “Yeah.  He actually saved the world.” Eric’s eyes widened in surprise and he looked over to Drakken for confirmation, but before he could — “Your dad saved the world too,” Kim’s smile nearly cracked her face in two and Eric shook his head and as Drakken tried to object, he got sentenced with a deathly Talk to the hand, a childish move that would’ve made anyone shake their hand in second-hand embarrassment.  Anyone but Drew Lipsky. You know what they say though: like father like son. “So Kim, you’re fighting old enemies to make up for your humiliating defeat at the hands of the Lowardians?” Eric cocked his head. “Interesting.” “No, I’m doing it for me,” she growled, leaning back on her heel.  “And I could say the same for you.” Eric’s brow furrowed and she wondered how on earth she could have ever been attracted to this scumbag.  “Yes, I guess I am,” his voice was ice cold. “But I didn’t want this. I’m not real, I don’t feel desire towards — anyone really.  Says a lot about you though. About what depths you’ll sink to.” Kim grimaced. “You fell for me hook, line, and sinker,” Eric’s pretty boy allure became distorted in the building rage lines on his contorted face, like Dorian Gray finally morphing into his his horrific portrait.  “And then, so broken hearted by little ol’ me, you rebound to that loser and now you’re torturing him with our lies.” Kim screamed and despite her burning joints, somersaulted towards Eric and crashed both fists right his big dumb charming head.  He doubled back and looked up to her with a deathly glint in those black eyes and just like he had done to Ron that night one year ago, he twisted his skull back into shape. “Oh you don’t have a chance against me Kim, not like this,” and he grabbed the pole Kim used to shut down the Diablos, and slammed into her jaw, sending her crumpling to the floor.  She wiped the blood from her mouth and stood tall before him. “I will stop you,” but she wasn’t so sure about that yet.  No tools, her only weapons her body, but her flesh was blunt and no good against a Synthodrone.  “Drakken, I think you overdid this one a little.” “Overcompensating more like it,” Eric’s brilliant teeth.  “He’s been so mad about his complete failure to kill you that — ” “Not kill!  I’d never!” Drakken declared.  “I just didn’t think — ” “You didn’t.  And now a broken Kim Possible needs to take me on or die.  You scared?” His high voice was once endearing, but in this moment it was the stuff of nightmares.  Eric was one of her most ruthless enemies yet; he had no compassion for human life and was fully willing to get inside Kim Possible’s little high school head and — break her. “No.” Kim snarked and spun on her heel, swinging a punch at Eric’s head, cracking his cranium so hard that it doubled over his neck, and with it came the same disturbing retraction as his body contorted back into shape.  He swung his leg clean into her job, sending her spiraling away. He then lunged forward, gripped her by the underarms, and ran his knee into her back. “You thought you were all that Kim Possible,” he hissed.  “But you’re not not!” “You even talk like him,” Kim groaned through the pain, trying to wrench herself away from Eric, her footwork throwing the two into a sort of dance; much like Prom.  The boy had so few memories to him, it made sense that he was so eerily close to rekindling that old passion. Her knees felt weak. “Do you think what you’re doing is healthy, Kim?” Eric chided, kicking her in the back, sending her face-first into the floor.  Before she could response, he crunched his foot against her spine, holding her firmly into the dust. “You’ve been upstaged by a buffoon — face it.  The world doesn’t need you anymore.” Kim looked over to Drakken; he hadn’t even touched his ham and cheese sandwich he was so concerned. “You must have such an ego to do all this just to hold the spotlight on you a little longer,” Eric chortled, lips just touching her ear.  She could smell the stench of his inner syntho-goo. “Why not just give up? Face the facts. You did your part to save the world; you created Ron Stoppable.” Her face flushed with both shame and rage.  It had been so easy to zero her ego when working along someone like Ron, a humble guy who longed for the simple things in life.  But now that he was a titan everyone was running scared from? Her foot twisted from Eric’s hold and nailed him in the chin.  She rolled out from under him, and flipped off the floor and back to her feet.  Eric looked back up to her with the same cocky expression, slowly rising back up. “You can’t stop me, Kim,” Eric laughed. “You’ll never stop anyone again.” And before she could strategize, he charged at her again in an onslaught that only pushed her back and drained more of her energy.  Meanwhile, he showed no signs of stopping. If Ron were there, he would work some monkey magic and plow his fist so hard into Eric that it would break that stupid suit, and with his hand plugged into the monster’s torso, he would ignite his magic and burn away all the Syntho-Goo.  It’d be over in seconds. Even Rufus would fair better than Kim.  He would just bite into the man once and he would be ruined. But Kim didn’t have magic or any of it.  She only had her body, her wits, and her will.  And nowadays, all that mattered was her will to keep going, to never give up. Kim didn’t tell Ron because she couldn’t stomach the failure, but it wasn’t her decision to split Team Possible and to send Ron on solo missions of a higher scale.

“Kim, we’re worried about you,” Betty Director said after one particularly rough outing in the Middle East.  “You come back to us every time in serious need of hospitalization.”  Kim looked at her blood-soaked abdomen she had hid from Ron long enough to get back to HQ. “I know.”  “We’re going to have to separate you two,” Betty looked away.  “I know that hurts, but you can’t keep up with him, and it’s holding him back.”  Kim knew she was right and she choked back tears.  When her eyes opened, she saw Betty looking right at her, hand resting on her knee.    “He’s not your distraction any more than you are his muscle.  Things change.”

And from then on, Ron was sent off on secret missions Kim couldn’t even know about, whereas she kept working against the usual baddies like Motor Ed, Dementor, and Duff Killigan.  But the fun that went into those battles was gone and it felt more like she was going through the motions than anything else. Kim growled and wrapped her legs around Eric’s waist, grabbing his head again and twisting it so hard that once again his neck snapped.  As his arms tried to tear her off him, she kept twisting the head until the neck was thin enough to fit into her palm of her hand. She gnashed her teeth in delight as his smooth skin twisted and knotting under her rough fingers.  She pressed tightly, draining the syntho-goo from his head and pushing it past the knot. Not pleasant to look at, but it let her drag his writhing hand up to the rope-like appendage she molded his head into, and in one swoop, she knotted the two together and let go of him. Eric roared, trying to untie himself but to no avail.  He couldn’t see anything with his head bent so uncomfortably behind him.  She watched, goosebumps sizzling over her body, as his chest and lower body ballooned with the new flow of syntho-go. “I’m going to kill you, Kim,” he said in a cold voice. “No.  You won’t.” And she drove her foot into the chest, into this influx of goo, and because of the fluctuating pressure in his body, she popped him.  A massive hole ripped into his chest and he moaned as he hobbled towards her before collapsing on the floor just like he did one year ago. It was silent for some time. “Wow,” Drakken finally let out, shoving the sandwich into his mouth.   “Thanks, Doc,” Kim sighed, walking up to Drakken and unexpectedly giving him a hug.  “You know, I was really worried about your memoir. But you’re pretty good with dialog.” Drakken raised an eyebrow.   Kim smiled.  “C’mon, you’re not going to try to convince me that you didn’t write what Eric just said, yeah?” Drakken rolled his eyes, but she saw a purple hue come into his high cheekbones.  “Yeah, I — I thought it’d be good for you to hear that.” “It was,” although she didn’t want to admit that.  “Guess it’s good he was the last one, huh?”

Drakken couldn’t think of anything to say so he just nodded.   Kim couldn’t think of anything either, so instead she pulled the butter knife out from the mayonnaise jar and chopped Drakken’s beefy sandwich in two. “Hey!  That’s mine!” Drakken sobbed. Kim gave him a stern look. “Drew you eat this whole thing and you’re going to start looking like DNAmy.” “What? With the gorilla hands?” he smirked. Kim rolled her eyes and reached for the pickle jar and ended Operation Gherkin with one flick of the wrist.  She tossed the scorched lid to the floor and smacked some pickles onto her sandwich. Drakken could barely speak.   “Thanks,” Kim said without making eye contact. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to you but — ” She froze, trying to rearrange the words so they wouldn’t too mushy for her former nemesis. “Kimberly Ann,” Drakken decreed, setting the sandwich down.  “You’re like a daughter to me. You don’t have to say it.” “Thanks,” she quickly snipped before biting the sandwich. “I hate to admit to being a snoop but I looked at your beep-mes — ” Drakken started. “ — text messages,” Kim corrected softly. “Mm — that’s such a literal name for them, you kids have no imagination,” he frowned. “But I saw the text message from whatshisname and wanted to let you know that they’re letting me keep the hovercraft if you want a ride back home so you can see him tonight.” Kim had to stop her automatic refusal so she could listen to her body.   She hadn’t been this tired since her under-aged self pushed a very little girl to the limits to start up Team Possible.  She looked up to Drakken with a wry smile. “I have an idea.” Drakken blinked.  “Kimberly Ann — haven’t you — ” She pressed a finger to his lips.  “After I finish my internship, I want to break ties with GJ.  I like freelancing more. It’s not going to be a popular decision, but it’s happening and — we might lose some contacts.” Drakken didn’t quite understand. “Which is bad because our operation has expanded and — uh,” Kim cocked her head. “Wade’s gonna need some help to keep up with everything.” “Ooooooooooh,” Drakken leaned back. “Are you sure?” “Yeah!  I want your imagination,” Kim smiled and for the first time ever, Drakken noticed the lines in her face and how human she was.  Her cheeks were straining to keep that smile afloat, otherwise she’d cry.  “Deal,” Drakken shook Kim’s hand and then dove into the pickle jar. “Spankin’!” Kim chimed and chowed down on her sandwich.   When they both wiped the mustard stains from their lips, Kim locked eyes with the bad doctor once again.   “And as your first task with Team Possible, I would love for you to escort me home.  Please and thank you.”

9, 14, 18, 37 for the ask meme!

ooh Dal I hope you're ready for this...

Which fic has been the hardest to write?

Tea with Topsy. Hands down. I have others I struggled with for longer, but Topsy had a schedule and I would spend hours just trying to think through the hows and whys and who's doing whats of that fic so I could keep it straight in my head (unlike Megamind and Roxanne, wahey!) while trying to post regularly and not fuck myself by having something happen and accidentally cut a chunk of story because of it.

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

Cut everything that doesn't advance the plot.

Seriously WHY would you say that? Maybe this is because I'm primarily a fanfic writer but what the fuck? Half the time the plot is the LEAST interesting thing about a story! Because here's the secret. Unless your characters are on a QUEST, they don't know there is a plot. They are just trying to live their lives and thinking about what comes in two days, two weeks, two months. When the plot arrives it is a Disruption! And if you don't let your characters react or crash and burn or give them enough time to actually show WHY they are people who make bad or selfish or pointless decisions, you wind up with a very boring story or characters acting OOC just to move the plot along and I swear this is where half the "If I was X character I would simply not make X decision" comments. You need to give your story time to BREATHE.

Your characters do not know they are in a story. They are not going to think like a reader and as a writer you need to give them follow through so they are not little puppets getting pushed around a stage. It's like punching someone, you don't aim for their nose, you aim two inches past it.

Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

I use dot points. Usually when I realise I've written myself into a corner and have to figure out how to get out again. I have also been known to rough draft plot points a la gossip style story telling (hi Rings!) but that happens less than you'd think. I am not good at planning, but I like making sure I set something up before I knock it down so my brain and I mostly agree to disagree.

Talk about your current wips.

I...all of them? Ohhkay oh fuck alright I can do this. There are six open on my laptop right now. I'm gonna start with them.

Lindworm: You know the story of the lindworm? Woman wants a baby, fucks up the instructions, has a perfect child and also a dragon. And oops they're all grown up now and dragon wants a bride? (Or possibly a snack. He's kind of into eating people). But the bride wears numerous dresses and convinces the lindworm he can eat her if he takes off a skin for each dress she removes and by the time they're down to the last she washes him with milk and lye and wraps him in her arms and breaks the curse and he becomes a man again?

Yeah we're doing that with Megamind. Also there may be an AU I'm leaving a trapdoor for myself with where Roxanne fucks Dragon!mind after a few sheds. Haven't decided yet. Should I?

Consolation prize: I don't remember why I called it tha- oh wait yes I do. This is a gift fic I've been poking away at with a prompt for really inhuman Megamind being the one to rescue Roxanne and show why he's the big boss in town and he's ashamed he's not human enough but she embraces him anyway and they're incredibly tender with one another.

And...look. You know me. I don't really do easy comfort. There's something about trauma that makes me go "You cannot pivot straight into comforting someone while you're in the middle of a perfectly reasonable panic attack of your own. You gotta let your characters breathe and cry for a bit before they can have emotionally healthy conversations. But I'm trying! And everyone's probably going to be in shock anyway so we'll let that carry the emotional baggage. Also it is very tender in a let me wash the blood off your face kind of way. I should actually have it finished soon which is exciting.

Tea with Topsy (part 2): Not actually part 2 I just got sick of scrolling every time I opened it so I put all the published stuff into another document. It's technically on hiatus still but I'm finding it a lot more pleasant to work on when I'm not trying to keep to a schedule. There's lots of smut coming, some Megamind being threatening, and some Roxanne being sneaky (if we're lucky they might even say "I love you" this year) and Minion being best henchfish to ever hench. Plus plot! And emotional breakdowns! And more strawberry icecream!

Oil and Water: Okay that one's just smut. I'm aiming for 1000 words per chapter for the next couple of chapters and its really just Megamind and Roxanne exhibition hours and an idea I've had FOREVER about them getting busted. But they're having fun and that's what's important. (poor Warden better hope he never finds out what happened in his office).

Party Dress: Okay so! Did you know whatever Megamind fic goes up next on AO3 is going to be my 50th? Because that was a shock! And what is being human for except to ascribe random numbers pointless meaning, so I had to make it something special. I toyed with the idea of getting Paperwork Polycule or Blue Ruin started but they still need more work than I have the brain for so instead I decided it was time I actually finished the very first piece of Megamind fanfic I started!

It's a cute oneshot fairly early on where Megamind and Minion run into Roxanne who is avoiding the crowds at the Mayor's annual Christmas Party and they offer her a ride home. It was the first place I came up with a lot of fun/silly ideas that I'm sure people will be able to draw comparisons to other fics I've written when I post it.

Kittens: Roxanne discovers a box of abandoned kittens on her way to work and takes them home. Megamind appears, very annoyed she missed their appointment ("What appointment?" "The one where I kidnap you of course!" "Oh that. Pass" "Pass? What you can't just pass! This is a kidnapping!" "Sh! I'm busy.") And she shanghais him into watching them while she goes to get pet supplies.

There is purring.

As for the rest!

*deep breath* this part comes with musical accompaniment to set the mood

Blue Ruin - The 1920's Megamind is a mobster, Roxanne is a club singer AU.

A Cunning Disguise - Spy AU, Megamind and Roxanne are undercover as newlyweds trying to put a stop to...something (look its about the TENSION alright? What's important is how many times they have to kiss to throw someone off their trail)

Barley - aka 5 times Roxanne and Megamind wound up playing schoolyard games as he tried to kidnap her (chasey, hide and seek, dodgeball, nerf wars, the floor is lava etc)

Birthday Cakes - An Umbrella Academy fic where they find The Women's Weekly book of birthday cakes and insist they each finally deserve a proper one

Bluestocking - Working title, Regency AU where Roxanne is trying to keep her family estate and winds up married to Megamind for half historical scandal half revange reasons. They fall in love.

Catherine Wheel - Angst. Something goes wrong, Megamind gets injured, Roxanne yells her feelings, possibly everyone dies?

Chains - Megamind and Roxanne escape the Doom Syndicate and wind up in a safehouse that's really more of an abandoned garage for the night. Oh and they're handcuffed together.

Chicken - Megamind and Wayne team up to invite Roxanne to a threesome

Chunk! - Wayne punches Megamind and bends his ventral piercings. Roxanne has to but them out with a boltcutter. Edging for everyone!

Noone calls you Honey - TECHNICALLY complete but I have an idea for a later scene that involves Wayne fighting a speedster supervillain and Roxanne rescuing other damsels so its staying in the WIPs until I decide what to do with it.

Con Crunch - Roxanne sneaks into a Villain con, Megamind catches her and passes her off as his protege.

Dear Diary - The WIP title for Wait a Minute! Where Roxanne and Megamind are trapped in a time bubble for 30 days. Actual future chapters are drafted because I finally got the angsty one finished!

Dinner and Goodnight kisses - Actually cut from Topsy due to emotional damages. Roxanne asks Megamind to be her fake date for dinner, which he accepts. But she accidentally mistakes someone else for him instead. Cue betrayal, misery, and an apology dinner of takeaway thai food on her couch. And kisses.

Falling - Roxanne and Megamind have a ”one time thing” out of curisoity/boredom/horny. But it keeps happening. And so do feelings

Family dinner - Roxanne asks Megamind to be her date to her monthly family dinner with the horrible side of the family in the hopes she'll be banished.

Free on saturday? - 5 times Roxanne made Megamind be her fake date (and one time it wasn't fake at all) This one I borrowed some of my own family traditions and I will probably be a blubbery mess when I actually write the rest of it but its still tender right now since my Opa passed away.

Fly me to the moon - Once upon a time Nickel and I agreed to an exchange where she asked for Megamind and Roxanne meeting as adults. I had two ideas, one was Back of Beyond (which I'm delighted you enjoyed) and the other is this, Roxanne is a junior reporter kidnapped by a couple of of aliens and is being kept in their spaceship on the other side of the moon while they try to figure out how to ransom her for the fuel they need to get back to the rest of the galaxy. Also Wayne is a space cop. Mostly made of teeth. And Minion's robot body turns into a motorcycle.

Formal Wear - The continuation and the prequel of A Formal Affair, where Megamind and Roxanne start their little getaways and also Wayne finally gets the courage up to ask to be the wall they fuck against.

Gloves are off - There is a trend for hero and villain themed onlyfans. Roxanne gets asked to do a story on some of them and finds one account that does a really good Megamind impression. Like REALLY good.

Hadestown - A 13/Dhawan!Master Dr Who Hadestown AU where the Doctor is Persephone and the Master is Hades

Into Temptation - The next installment of the Crowded House collective. Its the night before a very big event and Roxanne asks Megamind to visit...(soft angst, smut and feels)

Intruder Window (my working titles are so I can save the doc, not because I know what I'm doing) - The Tapetum Lucidum series. I hope you're ready to get laid

Mentality Machine Misfire - Prequel to Rings. What did happen when Megamind and Roxanne wound up as Brain-bots?

Mer couture - The sequel to Haute Water. (I blame @kizzyanel) I'm waiting on the next Met Gala for more inspiration because at the moment its just Megamind and Minion pleasing Roxanne in the bath.

Mistress Roxanne - Megamind runs into Roxanne in a dungeon and finds out he has a hitherto undiscovered sub streak a mile wide. Sexy shenanigans ensue.

Nails - A Nails AU based on the short story from Round the Twist. There are mermaids.

Never drink alone - Wayne Megamind and Minion all get absolutely trashed on a particular cocktail at a Scott Family party (so much for that evil plan) a none to sober herself Roxanne has to wrangle them back to Wayne's room and keep them there till they all sober up. No one has a filter. Also truth or dare.

Noticeable - Pride and Prejudice AU - Mary asks Kitty for help to make her beautiful enough Mr Collins will ask her to marry him. Mostly about sisterly bonding.

Nowhere to run - Roxanne stumbles on Megamind right after he accidentally kills someone in self defense. She takes him home and cleans him up and keeps his secrets.

Operation Seduction - Wayne and Roxanne are fuckbuddies who team up to seduce Megamind.

Paperwork Polycule - Roxanne marries all her aliens to make sure they don't get deported. of course this means they have to live together for a year and oh dear what feelings are these? (Wayne and Minion have the most helpless crushes on each other).

Penelope - A Penelope/Colin Bridgerton story about Penelope writing a vicious takedown of herself as Whistledown and the fallout as the Bridgerton family comes to her defence.

Prime numbers - It's not even a real kiss! Just a kiss on the cheek because they were both laughing at the brainbot tangled in mistletoe. So why is Megamind running in a panic and who is Roxanne going to have to kill for making him feel like he's not even allowed such a small gesture of affection?

Roxanne is dead - (thrilling title I know) Except she's not, she's hiding in the Lair from everyone while the rest of the world THINKS she's dead. Megamind included. A lot of angst and slow feels

Same time next week - Megabyte and Dot don't intentionally make a habit of running into one another at Al's diner. But it keeps happening (will end in alley sex)

Selkie - Roxanne's greatest secret is her pelt. When her house is robbed and Megamind returns it to her, any number of strange things about her suddenly start to make sense. (Also there are whiskery seal kisses)

Six of Crows Bar and Restaurant - A slice of life AUabout the Six of crows but as restaurant workers

Speed Chess - A Queens Gambit oneshot about playing speedchess in the park

Table for Two - Sarcasm serves Megamind and Roxanne well when instead of the evil plan that was supposed to be happening, Minion has arranged...dinner?

Tattoo Roses - The flowershop/Tattoo parlour AU that I will have more than just slice of life scenes if I ever figure out how

The inherent evil of turtlenecks - Bernard is back and he is out for revange! Unfortunately Megamind has found his greatest weakness, advice on how to be a better supervillain. Homoeroticism and evil plans abound.

The Morning after - Roxanne and Megamind run into each other out of town and wind up spending the night together. What's going to come of this neither of them know.

Please Break Me Gently - Megamind collapses four steps into Roxanne's apartment after the Black Mamba fight. An adult retelling of what happens next with all the bruises left in.

The Vast of what comes after - A Vast of Night continuation of how and where Faye and Everett and Maddy come back.

Tofu - Megamind steals Roxanne's lunch one day and discovers tofu is an aphrodisiac to his species. Roxanne offers to help out

Toy Room - Megamind has a sex room built during his villainous days. Roxanne finds it. Fun times ensue.

Tryst in me - Sequel to "She's all out to get you" Wayne Megamind and roxanne have got a pretty good handle on how to run her city. But Roxanne really can't stop thinking about Megamind's hands. She decides to do something about it. (the something is Megamind)

Up n at em - Also technically finished but I have a sequel chapter about how they fell in love and how it was Roxanne and Minion first.

Voyager - Yes the one you used to write Embers to Ashes. the line "These are supposed to be gills!" still lives rent free in my head so its becoming a post movie angstfest at some point.

Waltz - Megamind finds Roxanne sneaking around at a party. The price for his silence? A dance.

Who bit my familiar? - A WWDITS story about Guillermo waking up a vampire.

You must be this tall to fire the giant laser - Megamind accidentally shrinks Roxanne down to 5 years old. Chaos ensues.

*falls over gasping* And there you have it! That music was in my head the ENTIRE time I was writing this out. (sometimes I really do have to wonder if I don't have some kind of ADHD)

Also thank you for making me tidy up my WIP folder, it actually shrank because I stuffed all the random bits and pieces and all those "An Idea" minifics the server pulls out of me into one document so yay! (I did not do those, that would have been another 20 odd)

For the weird writer questions: 7, 13 and 32.

Thanks for the asks @morganlefaye79!

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

Seeing a story I'd imagined in my head come to life, and then being able to read it myself? I will never get over that magic.

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

Hard: dealing with death and loss. I think this goes back to losing my grandfather when I was a teenager. He was a very important person to me, and I suspect I've never fully processed his death. That being said, loss was a major theme in NOGLY so maybe as I'm getting older, I'm able to address it.

Easy: cars, which is perfect since I tend to write about Nomads. 😂 I've been interested in cars since I was a kid and I love to write scenes involving them. In fact, I'm gonna drop some excerpts after the cut!

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

This one has really stumped me. I've been racking my brain and staring at my bookshelf, but I cannot think of one in particular. I'm not generally good at remembering details -- hello friends who help me look over my delivered comms to make sure I didn't miss anything lmao -- and I have to read things twice before I start to remember specifics, which is why I rely heavily on outside sources when writing fic. 😩

Instead let me just answer a more generic "what poem/novel/fanfic" do I return to: Persuasion by Jane Austen, Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson, Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole, Austerlitz by W.G. Sebald.

The promised car scenes!

From No One's Gonna Love You, Chapter Five:

Mitch pushes the Coyote faster, harder on the hilly two-lane highway, the wheels leaving the ground as he crests a few larger hills and squawking as they touch back down on the pavement, until he ignores a rusted, shot-filled warning sign for a curve and nearly launches the car at the guardrail. Reflexes take over—he brakes and downshifts with one hand while yanking the wheel with the other, and the tires scream until the car comes to a stop with the bumper inches from the dented metal that wouldn’t have prevented him from flipping and rolling down the slope. Undoubtedly he’d survive the tumble, but then Pan’d know just how bad an idea it was to let him out of the doc’s care early, and he’s gotta be the responsible one, that’s his role now.

And here's my favorite, from a WIP that may never come to fruition, a Mitch/Claire slowburn. I wrote the full scene for one of the prompts for MoxWrites2077 from Lizzie's:

He’s gotta give her credit, she knows how to drive this machine. He runs the previous laps simultaneously and somehow Claire has coaxed a few split seconds out of the Beast on the straightaway through the first canyon and the rough terrain after, but she’s going too fast for the turn into the next canyon.

“Goin’ too fast,” he cautions.

She ignores him, the muscles of her jaw clenching and fingers whitening on the steering wheel, and she heads into the turn at full speed. Mitch grabs onto the console as the truck starts to skid and they hit a rock and the left wheels lift off the ground while the right side fights for purchase on the sand. They hang suspended for what feels like a minute but is really only a half-second before the driver’s side drops back to the earth, the suspension groaning as it absorbs the weight.

She whoops as the Beast settles out and she guns it through the dried creek bed. Mitch shakes his head at the good luck that kept them from flipping. She’s down five seconds on the Colby by the time they head into Biotechnica Flats, but it’s the next turn he’s worried about—it’s asphalt but with the sand it will be slippery as an oil slick.

The Beast devours the pavement and he debates not saying anything at all, but he can’t do that—he’s gotta try to warn her, even if she doesn’t want to listen.

“Next corner is slippery, might wanna slow down.”

Again Claire ignores him. By the time she starts braking for the turn, it’s too late. The wheels turn but can’t catch hold of the pavement and they’re heading straight at one of the steel girders. She slams the brakes and the wheels lock and she yanks the steering wheel harder. The nose starts to turn but they’re going too fast and the Beast barrels into the girder. Time slows and reduces the crash to the smallest components—the shriek of the fender as the metal rends, his body moving forward from inertia before the restraints snap him back and knock the air from his lungs and the back of his head strikes the cab wall, the smell of burnt rubber from the skidding tires, Claire’s skull cracking against the frame and her cry of pain.

At last the Beast stops. Mitch blinks then looks over at Claire. She’s gripping the steering wheel like it’s a lifeline and staring out the windshield, her breath ragged. He touches her shoulder and she starts, looks at him. Blood oozes from a gash over her left eye.

“You okay?”

Blinking, she nods. She makes no move toward the shifter so Mitch moves it to park. That snaps her back to reality and she slams her hands on the wheel.

“Fuck!”

“C’mon,” he says, releasing his harness. “Let’s take a look.”

Do you have tips for writing? I used to write but stopped because I never had inspiration and my writing was awkward :(

writing tips omg- okay so i don’t know whether it counts as a tip but i have a specific post in my drafts (you can use any app to store it) but i list all of the idols i write for with a bulletpoint under all of them so when i get an idea for a specific idol, i list it under their name in the draft post! i list the au it’s in, the specifics (i.e. vampire!chan x human!reader) if they’re not both human or smth yknow and i’ll also write as much of the plot as possible to give myself an idea to write from

i would give an example of this but i’m pretty sure i’ve already removed my hao angst fic’s bulletpoint and i’m not leaking any upcomings hehe but i’ll also draft the fic name then too

that way i can always go to that post if i begin to get writer’s block midway through writing. i could be like “oh i don’t know what else to cover” but my draft post says something like “chan consoles reader in thunderstorm” and i’d be like oh! i haven’t written about that yet. yet again i don’t know if that classes as a tip but it definitely helps me especially with types of au i may not be confident with? like i don’t like writing my fics below a certain word count but that’s another thing

establish whether you want it to be a long fic or a short fic when you plan it! if you don’t want to make it a long fic but have a lot to write about, make it a series maybe!!

also i learnt this from being a university student: keep a tab open for synonyms if you think you’re repeating words, especially nouns and verbs. think you’ve said ‘watched’ too much? have a look at some synonyms just to spice things up!

i use wordcounter.net (i believe its what its called) for not long finding out what my word count is but i’m pretty sure it can also show repetitive words, etc.

i’m not sure if it’s a tip (oh my fucking god pin this to my forehead) but if you can’t start writing paragraphs even if you do the whole draft plan post concept, bulletpoint it first. i love bulletpointing (hence why my headcanons are informal as fuck and bulletpointed) because it’s easier to keep listing a plot or scenario. maybe if that would work better like that, plot it out in bulletpoints and write based off them!

just remember to write what you’re confident with. don’t think you’d be good at writing sad stories or smuts? don’t force yourself! i’m not particularly good at angsts, i write them but i wouldn’t say i’m the best lol but i refuse to write smuts or suggestive scenarios (not only am i bad at them but i’m omnisexual and i have no interest in the topics half the time LMAOO) and the same goes for au or topics. can’t think of a full plot for a certain au but you can for a different au? yknow which one to choose!!

write for yourself, numbers play a big role in a lot of social medias and tumblr is one of them. we always sit here as fanfic blogs, looking at how many notes particular fanfics get or how many followers we have but we should really be focusing on what we enjoy and for a lot of us that’s writing! don’t be afraid to turn down requests if you write on tumblr too, set yourself boundaries that you are comfortable with.

i really don’t know if this was helpful in any way, i could probably list some more things but i’m on mobile and i’m already aware how long this post had gotten (i can’t put in a ‘keep reading’ tab right now) but i’m more than willing to perhaps do a separate post entirely for tips and stuff at a later date when i’m on my laptop. (:

Motion Sickness, Xu Shangqi

Yes, I wrote this out self projection. I myself have a very weak stomach and can therefor very easily and quickly catch motion sickness.

For those interested about what motion sickness is and what it means for me: Quick story of it, my stomach cannot stand a lot of motion, especially when my brain is unaware of the direction my body is moving in. I get nauseous and light headed and just feel the bile rising up in my throat. So when I go on long car rides for vacation and I cannot see the navigation, I could easily throw up in the car in a matter of seconds. When I sit on the wrong side of the car, I get sick. When I look anywhere else but outside in the car, I get sick. When the car is taking turns instead of driving straight ahead, I get sick. It’s really annoying and it’s still something I struggle with a lot. I get it on amusement rides, rollercoasters, boats; even when I just move around to quickly or too much. So when I was watching that scene in Shang-Chi where they drive to Ta Lo, all I could think about was how terrible I would’ve been in that situation. And it inspired me to write this (stupid as it may sound.) Yes, I am aware there is medication for this, but it happens a lot of the times and would I keep using and buying it, I would spend way more money than I actually need to. I only use it for long car rides and boat trips.

Fanfic, female! reader

Fluff, bit of angst

Tw: SPOILERS, motion sickness, description of nausea, lightheadedness, description of vomiting, rising temperature, half consciousness, self projected, description of losing consciousness (but not really), Shang-Chi being worried, established relationship, use of Y/N. Also, I could not find the script anywhere, so half of the dialogue is probably wrong.

Summary: When escaping Wenwu’s home, you join the ride to Ta Lo, even as you are aware that you get severe motion sickness in cars and most definitely will end up throwing up later. Shang-Chi knows this and tries to help, but you can’t talk nausea out of someone. Upon arriving in Ta Lo, you’re barely conscious and Shang-Chi gets concerned.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shang-Chi asked, as you sat outside the car you just escaped in.

The ride from Wenwu’s home had been difficult to say the least. You got very nauseous in car rides, and you knew that, yet you wanted to be there for Shang-Chi when he would travel to his mother’s village. It was already clear it was not going to be an easy journey, but you insisted on joining the ride.

At the moment, you were catching some fresh air after the eventful car ride earlier. You forced your nausea down, smiling up at Shang-Chi.

“Oh yeah. I’ll be fine.” You assured, standing up and taking a deep breath in.

“You know you don’t have to come along.” He tried again, but you ignored his offer.

“I said I’ll be fine.” You insisted, walking back towards the car. Shang-Chi let out a sigh of defeat before opening the door to the passenger seat.

“Actually, Trevor was going to sit there. Seeing as he kind of holds the information and stuff.” Katy said, gesturing towards the man behind you two.

“He can do that from the back.” Shang-Chi said, but you shoo’d him, opening the door behind the passenger seat.

“I can sit here too.” You announced, sitting down before your boyfriend could say anything about it.

“Y/N-“ “Don’t Y/N me.” You interrupted. “If I get sick, it’s my own damn fault.”

He groaned before stepping in on the other side, his sister seated between the two of you.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, looking towards you with a worried glance.

“She gets sick in car rides.” Shang-Chi announced, putting on his seatbelt.

“Don’t worry.” You reassured her, “If I’m going to throw up, I’m going to aim for Shang-Chi. You’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to throw up?” She questioned, frowning at the statement.

“I’ll try not to, if it’s any consolation to you.” You offered, throwing off your jacket before bundling it up and letting it rest on your lap, holding it against your stomach lightly.

“I hope you’re strapped in. Morris tells us we need to leave now.” Trevor announced, simultaneously making Katy push the gas.

As you’re driving, Katy keeps a steady pace, causing a feeling of relief to wash through you. If this was going to be the pace you’d keep during the ride, nothing could really go wrong.

In front of the car, the trees suddenly started to separate, creating a road for Katy to drive on. You gasped at the sight, having never seen anything like it before.

“This is so cool.” Katy quietly awed. You hummed in agreement, staring at the greens out of the window.

“Morris says you might want to speed up.” Trevor announced, looking at the rearview mirror. Katy followed his look, before letting a curse word slip and speeding up. All three of you in the back quickly looked behind, eyes widening at the sight of the trees closing back.

You turned around the second you saw what was happening, not ready to move forward while looking back.

“Take a left.” Trevor instructed.

“When?” Katy wondered, sparing the man a single glance.

“Now!” He ushered.

Katy took a sharp turn at his words, causing you to immediately grab hold of the handle on the door. Xialing and Shang-Chi both fell towards your side, not having prepared for the turn. You let out a little chuckle at the sight of them, but stopped as the familiar feeling of nausea hit you again.

“Right!” Trevor instructed. Yet again, Katy listened to him, taking a sharp right turn as the woods split into two again.

You had yet to let go of the handle, but you figured it might the closest thing you’d get to grounding at the moment. You felt Shang-Chi’s eyes drill holes into your head, but you refused to look at him. Instead, you kept you eyes on the window outside, knowing shooting your glance anywhere else might lead to some unfortunate consequences.

“Right again!” And at those words, the car stumbled around. Your stomach started feeling heavy as your head grew lighter, but you refused to acknowledge it, silently wishing for it to be over soon. You knew what would happen. You brought this upon yourself and you had no one to blame but yourself. You were in this now and you would not complain about it.

“Left!”

The next turn came completely unexpected to you, causing you to lose grip of the handle and the jacket on your lap, your hands trying to hold onto the seat in front of you.

As the car was on a straight line again, Shang-Chi quickly leaned over, grabbing your jacket and handing it to you, before opening your window slightly, allowing fresh air to fill the car. He shot you a silent look before returning to his seat.

“Drive faster!” Trevor urged, looking in the rearview mirror again. The forest seemed to close in behind you in an even faster rate now.

Katy just followed his lead, pushing the gas pedal down all the way. The car was hurled forward as your stomach began to flip. You leant your head against the window, your jacket pressed tightly against your stomach.

“Right!” Trevor yelled, the wind that blew into the car now becoming louder than his voice.

As Katy followed his directions, your clothes began to uncomfortably cling to your body, your hair slowly sticking to your forehead. You felt the bile rising up your throat, but you swallowed it back down, knowing there was no way of stopping now.

As Trevor kept shouting instructions, you began to wonder when this maze would end. It had been more terrible than you predicted. Perhaps the nausea of the earlier car-ride still lay heavy on your stomach, which only increased with the current journey. Or maybe the fact that there were no blinkers or navigation used, made your brain confused and uncomfortable, leaving you with a sickening feeling. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

Had this been a bad idea?

Definitely.

Would you ever confess it?

Never.

“Close the window!” Trevor yelled to Katy, holding his hands over his ears.

“Do not close the window!” Shang-Chi shot after him, holding his hand beside Katy’s seat, leaving her unable to access the window buttons.

Your head rested against the backside of the chair in front of you, trying to keep the dizziness at bay, but with every following turn, you felt that uncomfortable substance rising back up. Your head felt too light to lift it now, but your stomach forced you to keep it up before everything would come back out.

You let your head fall towards the window, keeping it up in order to swallow everything down again. The sour feeling stung your throat, nearly making you gasp in uneasiness, but you did your best not to show it. The open window that provided you with fresh air, had begun to lose its purpose, now only filling you with a loud pounding in the ears, every other word suddenly passing by unheard. It wasn’t until you felt a warm hand on the one that clung to your jacket, that you moved your head.

Before even looking, you knew it was Shang-Chi, but there was little he could do for you now. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he held out a bottle of cold water and a plastic bag. You gratefully took the offer, taking small sips from the bottle before placing the plastic bag on top of your jacket, just in case things would go sideways.

Your hands had grown all warm and soggy, nearly gliding off of the fabric. Your shirt was now nearly glued to your back. The hair you had refused to put up earlier was now suffocating your neck with a heat attack. You could feel the sweat of it fall down your body, making you move uncomfortably in your seat. A sharp ringing filled your ears, your vision showing black dots from time to time.

The car increased its speed suddenly. You had no idea what was happening, but you closed your eyes, not willing to look outside anymore. You needed your focus on your body, trying so desperately to maintain it.

Katy’s screaming disturbed the ringing in your ears as you felt an annoying banging against your brain.

And just like that, the car stopped moving. Heavy breathing was heard all around the car, but you had yet to open your eyes. The nauseating feeling was far from over. You figured it was best to continue driving before you would have to experience everything again.

“Everyone okay?” Katy asked, which went answered by multiple hums.

“Morris says to go right through there.” The man in front of you announced.

“Through the waterfall?” Katy asked incredulously.

“Yes.” Was the simple answer.

And then, the car was moving again. You heard the window beside you shut, but you made no intention to open your eyes yet.

“Y/N?” You heard Shang-Chi ask, but you ignored him, waving your hand towards him in a “let it go” manner.

How long the car had been driving afterwards, you did not know. You didn’t look outside, the earlier trip still heavy on your stomach. It wasn’t until the car suddenly stopped, that your stomach decided enough was enough, and resorted to throwing everything out.

You were hunched over the bag in your hands, the vomit slowly leaving your throat, much to your discomfort. You felt two gentle, yet unfamiliar hands wrap around your hair before tying it in a simple pony tail.

Your body felt as if it was on fire, your shirt definitely drenched by now. You tried to catch your breath, but you threw yourself back over the bag before you knew it. A second round falling out just as terrible as the first one.

You could hardly comprehend the door beside you opening, followed by a hand slowly, but steadily rubbing your back. You kept yourself above the bag, even though you were fairly sure you were done now. You began tying it, but it was taken from you before you could grab the ends.

As you unbuckled yourself and stood back up, black spots appeared in your vision again, making you stumble outside, before forcing you to sit down, your back against the car.

“Babe, can you hear me?” You faintly heard, making you hum silently, leaning your head against the car too, your eyes closing again.

“Are you okay?” He asked again, the voice now nearer.

“I just threw up twice. What do you think?” You mumbled.

Your statement went ignored, a soft hand being placed on top of your head instead.

“You’re burning up.” He remarked, untying your hair and wrapping it in a bun instead, making you sigh in relief.

“Give me a few minutes.” You stated quietly.

“Can you give me that bottle of water?” You followed up in a whisper. It was quiet for a moment before you felt the cold bottle back in your hands. You finished it quickly, handing it back when you were done.

“Do you need anything else?” He wondered again, his hand softly touching your cheek.

“A cold shower.” You mustered out, throwing your head forward, making it rest against Shang-Chi’s chest. “And a few painkillers.”

A low chuckle escaped his throat as his hand rested on your back, making you since slightly at the hot and sweaty shirt now being pushed against your body.

“Can you move yet?” He whispered patiently, letting you go, though he allowed your head to keep resting against him.

“Give me a moment.” You muttered, one of your hands falling to your stomach as if it would calm it down.

“That’s okay.” He answered, shifting a little bit before resting his head on top of yours, one of his his hands connecting with the one that was on your stomach.

“Xialing is doing the talking anyway.” He explained, his second hand falling to your neck and stroking it affectionately.

“Tell me when to get up.” He proposed, letting you pick your time and comfort.

You hummed in response, happy to be in his arms back on solid ground. You tried turning in your position, but your body quickly show down the idea, fresh nausea returning fast.

Shang-Chi understood what you were trying to do, luckily. He grabbed your waist, carefully turning you around, making your back rest against his chest.

“You’re drenched in sweat.” He noticed aloud, though that was the only thing he did about it.

Your head fell back in the crook of his neck, making Shang-Chi smile and rest his head against yours. Your hand tried reaching for his, even though you could not see anything right now.

“You want more water?” He misunderstood, his voice vibrating through his chest.

You just shook your head lightly, grabbing his arm and letting your hand slide down it until your hand connected with his. He squeezed it in comfort, before wrapping his arms around your body, holding you against him tightly, your hands toying with his fingers.

“I’m tired.” You whispered. “Do you mind if I fall asleep right here?”

Once more, Shang-Chi chuckled. “Of course not, babe.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled, sinking into his arms, nausea slowly subsiding as your mind finally drifted off.

You were glad he had been understanding, instead of cocky and full of himself at the moment. He did not mention your stubbornness earlier or your stupid comments. And you were thankful for that. You were far too tired or nauseous to deal with these comments now. They’d have to wait until tomorrow morning. Besides, a cold shower was next on the agenda, whether Ta Lo had that or not.

Taglist: @wlfstxr

My Brothers, The Lovers ❤ (Repost: Classic fanfic)

My Brothers, The Lovers *Revised version*

By Annabelle Naughty Princess Rose

Summary:I wouldn't trade my Brothers for anything in the world. SAM/DEAN/OFC. Wincest!

Rated: MA (18+)

Author notes: Hey guys! Well, I have  another classic fic of mine to share. This was a little idea I had while I wrote this story, an OFC sister of Sam and Dean Winchester, and thier growing forbidden bond. So, this is a Wincest story.

This story was recently published on my Fanfiction.net, as well as on live journal, Wattpad, and WordPress page. There may be some little changes I made because the story had bad typos. (Don't judge me.)

Please note: That this story contains Wincest. If you are uncomfortable with this nature, please DO NOT read!

Lastly, I don't own any characters. The story plot was my idea. ;)

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

(Reader's POV:)

I love my brothers. They are caring. They are protective. When you're feeling down, they turn your frown upside down. If it was over a guy, they would stop at nothing to nail his ass to a wall. Any person, whether boy or girl is lucky to have them.

I wouldn't trade my brothers for anything in the world. They are a godsend. Sam and Dean: my knights in shinning amour.

We been through a lot together. Since our father died, it has been hell on earth...literally!

But no matter, we had stuck it through till the end and now we could live our lives...

A lot has happened since we saved the world from certain doom. We had one hard challenge: to learn how to live normal lives. I mean, I know it sounds stupid to do one simple thing, but come on, In our eyes, we are hunters. We were born as hunters. I don't think the three of us couldn't shake the fact that life was over. It was the only thing we knew.

But still, we somehow mange to cope with it. We settled in Kansas with the help of our father's will. We brought a house pretty much like the one you see on those commercials with the white picket fence.

It was close to the University Sam was planning to attend to resume his studies as a attorney and close to Lisa, Dean's one last stand and his possible legitimate lovechild Ben. I, myself was planning to go to a local Community College. At first, I didn't really wanted to go to school, but Sam insisted that it was serve me well later in life.

Yeah, life was perfect... at least for the half of that year. The urge of the life of freedom were still brewing inside us. We miss the life with no worries, of bills, school, kids...

So we sold the house hop into the impala and left.

About three months after, I noticed that our bond was changing. I noticed Dean would at times, would make quick glances out from the corner of my eye. I really didn't pay to much attention to it at first because I thought it was something that brothers normally do.

But now I found at night when I take turns laying next to him or Sam, at times I could have swore I felt his eyes staring down at me while I sleep.

Sam on the other hand had a very different approach. There would be times whenever me and him are alone, he wouldn't normally act like your typical big brother. He would act as though like a boyfriend. When me and him are alone, He would be a lot closer than usual. At times when I'm in the shower, I could have swore that I heard him breathing on the other side of the curtain not to mention to very tall figure I see just standing mere inches.

I guess I'm just imagination things. That's it's all in my head. Or maybe, I have a bad case of thinking dirty. Can I help it? I am not going to lie. My brothers are absolutely drop-dead gorgeous! They could get the princess of Cambridge a heat attack! I found that comment to be quite interesting! I begin to think the times when the three of us would be out, like geoceries shopping, bars,at the park. I have women rolling their eyes, whispering words about me, thinking that I was a whore for my brothers...

Nothing could prepare me for what happened two weeks later...

I remember that day as if it was yesterday. I was sitting on the sidewalk in front of a sleazy hotel. I was writing in my journal at the same time sneaking glances at Dean as he was wiping down the impala. The way he smiles as he glazes down at his baby makes me happy but a tad jealous...but he assure me that I was his main baby.

I could hear the faint sound of water coming from the bathroom. Sam,was inside, washing his god build form in the shower.

Turning my head, I couldn't help but grin as I saw a narrow view of his ass. Even after all these years, Sam still had a nasty habit about leaving the shower curtain open.

"Hey," Dean replies getting my attention. I turn my head towards him trying to look innocent."What are you smirking at?" He asks.

At his question, I raised my eyebrows giving him a side smile.

"Nothing. just a thought I was thinking." I looked up at him and I could tell he wasn't buying it. That's the thing I love about Dean, he has the sense to know whether something was troubling me or Sam...and he would stop at nothing to find out.

"About? I curious," He replies in a singing tone making me laugh.

"It's personal. My thoughts only," I winked. Finally he give up the debate and returns to his duty wiping down his impala.

Later that night, we decided to pay a visit at local bar. That day was the worst night of my life.

To be from what seemed, the only sibling with two very handsome attractive brothers was a bitch!

From the second we walk in, there were woman, whether their were in a relationship,married, or even betrayal their same-sex partner, had cornered us.

One was a blonde, who I can tell had the personality of stupid trying to seduce Dean with her luscious but totally fake breasts. While a brunette who was staring Sam down and was the bartender of the bar didn't give a damn if she had other people waiting to be served. It disgust me how women could be so depraved for a man.

I wanted to get out of there. The room felt as through it was trying to suffocate me. It hurt my heart to see I was the only one left out. To keep myself from bursting into tears, I did just that but my attempt to leave was cut short by a hand on by wrists.

Turning my head, I came face to face to a man who was pure hillbilly. He had messy hair,oily jumper and I remember that when I was at the bar, I would turn my head and he would smile at me.

"Where do you think you're going, darling?" The man asked. I can tell that he was drunk and had the slightest clue as what he was doing.

"Going home," I replied. "And I appreciated if you remove your hand from my wrist." I tried to Jerk him away but it was a useless attempt.

"I don't think so darling, You're looking very pretty there's no need for an angel face like you to scurry away..."He tried to pull me along, but I stood my ground. Then he does the unthinkable, He roughly pulls me against him loosing his balance completely falling on one of the now broken tables.

Everyone turned their heads Including Sam and Dean who immediately lest from their social gathering to my aid.

"Hey Asshole!"Dean replies as he and Sam walked over to the scene. "What are you doing with my sister?!" He began to throw insults at the poor man, while ignoring Sam's attempt to help me up, I stood up on my feet.

"I'm fine," I replied. "The fat ass broke my fall."

"Fat ass?" The man shouted. "Who are you calling a fat ass you bitch!"

"Hey!" Dean shouted. reaching down to jerk the man up by his collar. "Don't fucking talk to my sister like that!"

"What happened?" Sam asked, taking my hand and I jerked it away.

"Oh! Like you care! he was trying to rape me!" I shouted. "Forget it! I'm getting the fuck out of here!" The last thing I remember was Dean calling that fat bastard "a Son of a Bitch" before throwing punches and Sam trying to calm him down.

At the Hotel, I stood fully nude in the shoulder letting the warm water abuse my body. I was just so relieved that I got out of there.

So what I acted like a ass. So what if I act like a jealous girlfriend. I'm not going to be held responsive. I could hear the door to the hotel room opening following the distant voices between the two.

Dean was shouted some sentence that were inseparable and Sam was speaking in a mild tone. I covered my ears, to try to block out the conversation, along with the pounding of the door, but it a useless. Finally, I finished my shower, wrapped myself in a towel, and took a deep breath. I made my way out of the bathroom with my head down before glazing at the faces of my older brothers.

Sam, who now has a sad look on his face. His green eyes sparking with concern. Whilst Dean has a pissed off expression, trying his best to remain calm. There were no words that were unable to fall out of mouth. I just walked passed them and climb into to very large king side bed we shared with saying a unexpectedly surprising, I suddenly began to cry my ear out.

Almost immediately, Sam and Dean's expressions changed. If they were confused, I could say the same thing. The reason why I was crying, I couldn't understand. I was always the second tough one when it comes from intense situations, I guess with everything that we had been through together finally had took a toll on me. I see with my watery eyes Sam turned towards Dean and he nodded his head. without hesitation, they began to walk towards me.

Dean lay on my left, Sam lay on my right. They huddled up against me trying to console me. Sam was wiping away from my tears, while Dean began to rub small circles down my back.

This warm fuzzy feeling began to grow inside me. I gaze into Sam's eyes and I can see the easiness and calm in his face. Then I did the unthinkable. I reached my hand and caress his cheek and I leaned in a kiss him passionately on the lips.

There was no feeling I can't describe other than, I felt as through I explode into a million pieces. What was more shocking is that Sam didn't pull away. He gave in and began to response with my advances. Dean was anxious to show his passion. I could feel his lips on my neck, his hands trailed down to my breast giving them a firm squeeze.

I moaned in response breaking my lips with Sam replacing them with his. I tried to show my love for the both of them. Wanting to give them all of me...

Everything happen in a flash. the removing of clothes. The hot soft lips on my heated skin. The feeling of being completely filled. Like flipping a page in a book. Like riding the biggest wave and suddenly ,you're caught in the tide.I felt so much pleasure.

It felt like Heaven. It was heaven...

That was last night...

And here we are...

Today is a new day. I stare at the ceiling with a smile on my face as I felt warm naked bodies sleeping silently against me...

Nude Dean on my left...

Nude Sam on my right.

Right now, I can't say that God is pleased. Not with the events that had happened. Now, When I said I love my brothers...I love them more than just a sibling nature. I love them, I'm madly in love with them! When I think of their eyes and their smiling faces, it makes my body want to explode in fireworks.I don't care what people would say. I don't care if our father would turn over in his grave, I feel like I'm the luckiest girl in the world! it always will be the three of us forever...

Sam and Dean,

My brothers, the lovers.

The End.

Hey, your fic 'Pense Bete' series are my favourite fanfic I've ever read. Not just CMBYN fic, but any fic in general. On days when I just want to smile or feel warm from the inside, I'd just read any random chapter from it.

You mentioned about throwing in the towel, I hope you never do that, because even today I'm waiting for the remaining chapters 🙈

If you wish to share it, you may share this, although I usually ask as anon, but I really want you to stick around.

I was thinking about that story last night--specifically the final chapter of Allegro, which is light but sad and puts everything we've heard from Elio into question. So much of it is there already, but it's a hard sell and I am weary.

That is a beautiful thing to be told. Thank you so much for it. That makes me happy. I love love stories. I just wanted to talk about love but also challenge myself. I am very grateful to PB readers for being such an intelligent bunch. I hope that both Andante and Rondo can work as standalones provides some consolation.

My main issue with that series was severe burnout. I worked stupidly hard on those two chapters of Finale and I had a whole "is that all there is to a fire?" feelings after. That, plus a sprinkle of fandom nonsense, made me feel like I needed a long vacation. I'm still kind of on that vacation.

I could easily finish the last chapter of Allegro but it would probably frustrate readers to then have to wait for the conclusion of Finale which wouldn't come right away. But never say never.

All these stories live in my grandma's attic head so they're complete in there. I know where I left Elio and I know where he winds up. If I do ride off into the sunset, I won't leave him hanging. I take years to do things sometimes but I do them. 💗

*

sorry I don't have anon asks enabled but I truly appreciate you writing to let me know, hahahahawhat.

from this meme

tell me things. if you don't want me to keep the ask private, let me know.

HII, how is my favorite akaashi lover doing? 😩💕

first THE EVENT LOOKS SO FUN! I hope you have fun doing the request <33 after this ask I will send in mine!

about your crush, if you use LOA? idk if you know about that and subliminals, you can attract him and get him ask you out! I can try to find good subs if you're interested hon.

then your friend knows what is best for him LMAO

I really miss draken :(( my boy deserved so much, he always cared about the gang PLS I WANT TO CRY 😭 but at least he's with Emma :( bye I'm going to cry rn. wakui have the "hands of god" after drawing mitsuya's new look. you're not pathetic at all! i do the same thing before i start reading a new chapter 💀 mitsuya having many panels is a bad sign for me😐

I do the same 💀 I have 0 love life pls. I'm going to end up manifesting someone because I'm tired of being single. BUT YOUR CRUSH SEEMS TO SHOW INTEREST IN YOU BBY! you just have to throw a hint, in one of those he notices it and makes a move (I don't have any romantic experience💀 keep that in mind)

Your favorite Akaashi lover? ( ꈍᴗꈍ) You know exactly how to make me feel mushy hehe💕 I'm doing OK! I have my last exams this week and after I'll be free for the next 4 months. How about you hon?

THANK YOUUU i started working on the requests tonight and I had so much fun! Also, i dont know if you had time but i didn't received your request yet (i'm not pressuring you! Just wanna tell you that in case Tumblr ate your ask)

I actually didn't think of LOA, it may work tho! (At this point i'm willing to try almost everything to help me LMAO) If you're willing to help me find good subs, i'm more than interest, thank youu <33

My heart shatter each time i think about Draken </3 it's like i remember that he isn't here anymore and won't ever see a future where Mikey is happy.... K BYE I MADE MYSELF SAD the only consolation is that he's with Emma, poor bby also deserved better :( Ayyy Mistuya better not die, i will drop the manga if he does 💀 honestly, with the leaks and the chapter that comes out tomorrow, i'm more scared for Inupi and Senju but no one is safe.... Wakui plz all i ask for is no more trauma, we all had enough

Everyone around me is either with someone or flirting here and there, getting laid and here I am, giggling at 2D boys and writing fanfic about them 😐 I DON'T KNOW IF HE IS, maybe he's just polite you know 🙁 i dont want to get my hopes up for nothing because he's like the only boy in MONTHS that i showed interest in but hey, at least i should try something and if it leads to nothing then i tried! I manifest for a cute person to show up to you soon enough 🛐

Fabricated Camaraderie - SPN Fanfiction

Title: Fabricated Camaraderie

Fandom: Supernatural 

Words: 3.5k

Setting: Season 8 (slight divergence)

Characters: Dean, Sam, OMC

Ship: None

Ao3: Link 

Summary: Ever since Dean had gotten out of Purgatory something had been off. He'd been prone to violent outbursts, rarely slept, rarely ate. Sam is at a loss of what to do to help his brother. Dean is at a loss how to cope back on earth surrounded by humans.A chance meeting with a veteran in a storm shelter may finally allow Dean to begin to heal.

Trigger Warnings: PTSD, eating disorder, mentions of violence,

Authors note:

Look who joined the Supernatural bandwagon (come on how long did you expect me to last only being wholocked and not superwholocked?)

Anyway, yes I know I need to update my other fics, but I had to write this. I'm also ignoring my finals. But it's my birthday so who cares. This is my birthday present to myself.

(authors note continued)

This borrows from canon more than it actually follows it. I'm actually not too sure how canon-compliant it is because I'm basing this off of other fanfics and youtube clips. But I'm obsessed with Purgatory PTSD!Dean and there is simply not enough of it. So I wrote this.

You can almost imagine this as you would someone coming directly off of season 7 having not seen season 8 and only read minuscule spoilers. Because... in a way that's exactly what has happened.

Dean will probably be different in every fic I write. This is traumatized/soldier Dean. He's not the Dean from previous seasons because that's not who Dean is when he gets out of Purgatory. He's a different Dean.

Just... Just read it lol. Hopefully, you'll get some enjoyment from it!

I had no intention of it being this long but it just kind of... kept going.  

Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

~TH~

"Dean, I promise, It'll be fine." Sam tried to use his eyes to will calmness into Dean's rigid body. He lightly touched his brother's shoulder only to feel a harsh flinch and remove his hand. Dean stiffened his shoulders and managed a nod.

It was already getting to him. He'd only been in this emergency center for twenty-three minutes and eighteen seconds and it was already making him tense and overly watchful. Sam offered a warm, if slightly timid, smile.

"I'm going to go find the person in charge, see if I can find out when we can get out of here." He raised his hand as if to offer his brother a consoling touch, but decided against it, dropping his hand almost awkwardly as he turned and walked away.

Unsure of what to do, Dean allowed himself to sit against the far corner. His back was ramrod straight, knees slightly bent with a hand lingering around his bootstraps, his eyes doing a constant sweep of the room. There were maybe two dozen people in the makeshift shelter. The room was windowless, underground, and had only one exit. There were other doors, leading to bathrooms and an industrial kitchen. But only one way out. He didn't like that.

From what he could tell, there were seven minors. Three elementary, two probably not school age yet, and two teenage boys. The other guests were varying levels of adults. None seemed to be the type that would cause problems, but you could never be too sure.

There were two or three men who could cause problems if they wanted to. He'd have to be sure to watch them.

A gust of wind came from above them, the sound of metal creaking and a large thump as if something was hitting the above-ground portion of the building. Dean's hand subconsciously tightened around the hilt of his knife hidden in his boot.

There were too many people in there with him. He'd been actively avoiding large crowds and confined spaces. He knew he couldn't be trusted in either. He was currently in the midst of both. Ever since his return from Purgatory, things hadn't been... right. He knew it even if he wasn't quite ready to admit it and well, Sam certainly knew it even if he didn't know everything.

More than once Dean had come back to reality with his brother's pale face under him, a knife placed dangerously on his throat. Sam was always watching him now. Waiting for him to snap. Waiting for Dean to plunge a knife into the neck of some innocent man because Dean thought he saw vampire fangs.

Dean was waiting too. He was waiting for the moment Sam realized that he was a lost cause. Waiting for him to snap and lose complete control of himself. Or maybe to finally get over his year in Purgatory.

The way things were going, the last option seemed unlikely. This wasn't like his return from Hell. Sure, he'd had problems when he returned. There'd been panic attacks and flashbacks and nightmares, but this was different. Before he had been traumatized. Years upon years of torture did that to you (as did years of being a torturer). But this, this was different. When he had returned above ground things had more or less returned to normal (well besides his brother drinking demon blood and the realization that angels were not only in existence but involved in his life.) But now that he was back from Purgatory, it was like... like he wasn't actually back. His time in Purgatory had seemed to settle even deeper than his time in Hell. Perhaps it was body vs Soul. Maybe it was losing Cas and some twisted Survivors Guilt. It could just be that Heck and Purgatory were so very different. Being hunted 24/7 for one year was different than being strung up and tortured for thirty. But his one year with the monsters had shaped his world and personality more than Hell ever had. It had made him colder, more brutal, kill now ask questions later. It had made him a whole lot like his dad. He hated it. But he couldn't stop it.

He had almost forgotten what humanity was like. Forgotten that there would good people who cared for others. Forgotten that not everything was a "use or be used" situation. Forgotten what gentle touches and kind words were. Benny had been a Vamp for too long to really feel in touch with his humanity and even Cas had seemed to have forgotten his time on earth. Dean wished he could feel comfort in Sam's small contact, but even the smallest brush of skin set off his fight reflexes. He hadn't felt at ease since he'd woken up in Purgatory and he was starting to believe he would never feel relaxed again.

A couple of the children were playing in a corner. Tag or just some vague childish chasing game. They were loud. He closed his eyes and could hear their footsteps. If he really concentrated he might even be able to hear their breathing.

He was tired. He supposed he could risk closing his eyes so long as he made sure he kept his ears in tune with his surroundings. He had barely slept since he returned. How was he supposed to sleep when there was no one keeping watch? Logically, he knew there was no point. There was nothing to watch for. Nothing was after him. He was the hunter in this world, not the hunted. The logic didn't matter. He'd been running on pure instincts for months if not the entire year. His instincts had taken him over in almost an animalistic way. He would lie in the too-soft motel bed until Sam was asleep, then move to the more bearable floor. He'd sometimes manage an hour or two of sleep before some distant sound awoke him and his adrenaline kept him from any semblance of rest. He could always ask Sam to take a turn at watch. But he couldn't do that. His brother wasn't used to the endless days of no rest. Sam needed sleep. Sam, for all of his issues, was actually the sanest between the two of them at the moment. Sam would call him out on his paranoia and it'd turn into some chick flick moment that Dean didn't have the energy to process or even tolerate.

Footsteps were coming near him, he felt the hilt of the knife, finding comfort in the way it had conformed to his hand. His eyes snapped open, grip tightening.

"Dean," Sam said cautiously, slowing his steps to make sure his brother was seeing him, not a monster.

"Sam," Dean rasped. His voice sounded rough like he hadn't spoken in days. It might have even been true. He wasn't much for small talk. He preferred to keep his answers to short sentences, only giving out the information that was needed. Dean remembered a time when he would talk non-stop about whatever entered his mind. Now, not much entered his mind, and what did would probably traumatize the listener.

Sam approached with a careful smile. He sat down beside his brother, making sure not to touch him, or even brush across him. Of all the things Purgatory had taken from him, that might be the thing he missed the most. The gentle, natural touches between two people. His brain had reprogrammed him to think that all touch was inherently bad unless he was the one to initiate it. Even then it depended on how traumatized his brain was feeling.

"I talked to some of the locals," Sam began, "storms aren't uncommon here. Probably nothing more than a seasonal storm. If it reaches full Tornado status they'll let everyone know, but until then, there's not much we can do but ride it out."

Dean nodded, his eyes back to following the chaos of the room. The kids had settled down and were playing some hand slapping game in the left corner closest to the door. Most of the adults had gathered into one of three groups. There was a group of middle-aged women near the kids, sitting in metal chairs around a six-foot white table. The young adults were standing around by the stairway leading to the one exit, holding white styrofoam cups, talking too loudly, and laughing even louder. The men sat at their own white table, looking relaxed and at ease with the situation. The groups posed little threat. The people that had him worried were the loners. A woman read a book in the corner, low threat level. Old man sleeping on a cot, low threat level. Two lovers making out in the kitchen, probably wouldn't emerge anytime soon, low threat level. A large man in his mid to late fifties, still appearing to be in good shape, sitting alone at a table, eyes flickering towards the Winchesters at random intervals, high threat level.

"Are you..." Sam's voice wavered, as if unsure if he should continue. Dean would almost say his brother was afraid of him. It was a fair assessment, he was kind of scared of himself. Didn't make it hurt any less. "Are you doing okay?"

Dean contemplated the proper answer for a moment. He honestly wasn't sure. He hadn't attacked anyone yet, if that was what he was asking. A pretty low bar, but fair for his current mental state. He didn't plan on attacking anyone, but he rarely did. The noise was starting to get to him, but in a more generic way that had plagued him since Hell and less in an 'I'm going to slit someone's throat' kind of way. So far at least.

"How long is the storm supposed to last?" He asked instead. Not the first time he ignored a question. Wouldn't be the last.

Sam shrugged, still eying his brother carefully, "Could last hours, could last days."

Dean nodded, setting his jaw. If they were down there for days, things could get bad. Sam knew that and that's why he was watching him, gaging him. Dean's hands twitched causing Sam to tense beside him.

"I'm fine, Sam." He offered. "It'll be fine."

"Just, just try to relax, okay?"

Dean couldn't help the small scoff that escaped his lips. Relax. Yeah right.

"You hungry?" Sam asked carefully.

No. He wasn't. Even if he was, he'd only be able to choke down a few bites before being too full to function. Dean glanced at his brother. Sam had been trying to get him to eat more. His stomach had shrunk. It really wasn't his fault. There hadn't been much to eat in Purgatory. He'd learned to ration, eat only what it took to survive. Enough to keep you energized. Overstuff yourself even when it was available and you'd be sluggish. Not at your best fighting. He always had to be at his best. He'd gotten sick once. Whether it was off of the food, exhaustion, or some hidden or ignored injury, he'd been delirious for a week. Had only eaten crushed berries fed to him by Benny, and even that only once every couple of days. Ever since then he could barely stomach any food. Hadn't eaten at all today. It wasn't like he couldn't go several days without feeling any serious effects. But his brother was worried. And hovering.

Dean nodded. Sam's eyes widened in surprise and his mouth flickered into a genuine if hesitant smile. "Uh, well, they've laid out some food, I could go get some if you'd like. It, it might take a minute 'cause it has to be microwaved."

Dean offered his own tight smile. "Thanks, Sammy."

His brother nodded, hurrying to his feet like he was afraid if he waited too long, Dean would change his mind. He watched Sam make his way to the table in front of the kitchen. A woman started to assist him and Dean turned his attention back to the man who had been watching him earlier.

He had moved. No, he was moving. He was making his way towards Dean. Looked like he had been waiting for Sam to leave. Dean tensed, positioning himself to rise to his feet quickly if needed. The knife in his boot was now fully in his grasp. He wasn't supposed to have any weapons. Sam had made him leave his other knives and gun in the car when they had taken shelter. Sam didn't understand that without his knife he would feel naked and exposed. And right now he was rather glad to be armed.

The man continued his slow approach. He had a slight upturn to his lips. Not quite a smile but nowhere near a frown. The way he was approaching, hands in front of him, casual but yet in clear view, slow pace, neutral leaning on positive facial features, he was trying not to startle Dean. Everything the man was doing was to keep him at ease. Dean didn't relax, but he loosened his grip slightly. He glanced towards where his brother was talking to someone at the food table.

The man was about three feet in front of him at this point. He stopped, nodding to Dean. Dean jerked his head in what he hoped was an agreeable enough nod. "May I sit?" The man motioned to the spot Sam had vacated.

He answered with another jerky nod.

The man sat slightly further away than Sam had. Dean's grip returned to his knife, his heart rate picking up a little. There was a long stretch of silence. Dean watched the man from the corner of his eye.

"How long have you been back?" The man asked.

Dean felt a jolt of confusion. How could this man possibly- Dean swept the man with his eyes. Military. This man was clearly military. Probably Marines.

He could honestly deny any military service, but he practically had been. He might not have served in the traditional sense, but he was just as much a soldier as anyone who had served.

Dean's tense posture lessened slightly, the set in his jaw not as hard. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a long breath through his nose. "Two months, three days," eighteen hours and twenty-two minutes. He finished silently.

The man nodded silently. Dean could sense the motion even with his eyes closed.

"Steven." The man said.

Dean opened his eyes to accept his outstretched hand. "Dean."

The man nodded again. Dean felt surprisingly comfortable next to the man. An unspoken comradery, even if slightly fabricated.

"It does get better." Steven offered.

Dean snorted. That was hard to believe.

"How long were you deployed?"

His hands twitched, "A year."

"You saw a lot of action."

It was a statement, not a question. Dean nodded in confirmation. "Too much. Or not enough. Not quite sure yet." It was true. He had seen so much he should be done. He should be itching to give up this life, stop hunting, and live a real life. Yet he seemed to want it even more. He just wanted to hunt. Not killing took almost more effort than killing. It terrified him.

His hands twitched again and he noticed that they had taken on full tremors.

"Who'd you lose?"

The question wasn't prying or cold. It was left open, to be answered or not. Dean set his jaw, feeling that deep guilt that never really left him alone surge forward. He dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand. "Friend. Hi-his name was Cas." He choked out. He felt his throat start to burn with unshared grief. "He should have, should have made it back. He w-was so close. I could have saved him. I could have! B-but he slipped and-" his eyes were squeezed shut and now he was gritting his teeth, willing the wetness behind his eyes to dissipate.

Steven was silent. Dean hadn't really talked about losing Cas. Even to Sam. But the moment the question was asked the words fell from his mouth as if they had been burning to be released. In a way, he supposed they had been.

"I'm sure you've heard it before, but it wasn't your fault."

Dean clenched his fists, shaking his head. "I-I should have made sure. All that, all that fighting and surviving and killing and, and he didn't make it back. All because I lost my grip. I let him go."

Steven didn't ask for the circumstances and Dean was grateful. Instead, he turned the conversation."Who's that?" Dean opened his eyes to watch Steven motion towards Sam with his chin.

"Brother. Sam." He swallowed hard, his lips twitching upward. "H-he's the reason I made it home. I, I knew I had to. For Sam." Not that it was doing much good. Sam was afraid of him. Sam would have been better off he had died in Purgatory.

As if reading his throughs, Steven shook his head. "It does get better. If you can ride out these first few months, you'll make it."

Dean offered a non-committal hum.

"Will-" he stopped, it was a stupid question. Inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Of no importance to anyone. Steven nodded in encouragement. "Will I ever be able to sleep on a bed again?"

He knew how stupid it sounded but he needed something. Anything. A goal. He needed something concrete to look forward to. 'Better' in their line of work was a twisted term. It held no real meaning. He needed something with meaning.

Steven nodded slowly. "It might take some time, but yes. Maybe try the couch first. Might take a couple of nights, but you should be able to handle it."

Dean nodded seriously. Couch. He could do that. Maybe he could try the Impala. Let Sam drive and sleep in the back. Any sleep was better than no sleep.

"Is it just you and your brother?"

A nod.

"He ever take the night watch?"

Dean turned to fully look at the man. Steven's eyes of quiet understanding were more comforting than he expected.

Dean shook his head. "Never asked him to. He, he wouldn't understand. It's stupid. There's nothing to watch for."

A sad smile played at the other man's lips. "You still need to sleep, son."

"I've gone longer." Dean shrugged.

"What if I kept watch."

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"I know you don't know me, but one soldier to another, I could watch, and you could sleep."

The lights were on, but there was talk of shutting them off soon. Not like he couldn't sleep in broad daylight. There were people around, but if Steven would watch... and Sam would be back soon. He might actually be able to sleep a few hours.

"Okay." He said quietly.

He was about to lie down when he glanced at Sam who appeared to be waiting in line to use the kitchen, the couple must have been kicked out as the lights were now on and several people were moving around in the room.

"Do you, do you have any suggestions about, about food?" He wasn't sure what compelled him to ask. It wasn't something he should be asking a total stranger, but this man seemed to know more about him than anyone should.

"Too much or too little?"

"Too little. Can't stomach more than a couple bites a day." He glanced up at the man's thoughtful look and added a small cover story. "We, uh, there was a food shortage. Couldn't get much into us. Took, took months before we really got anything and by then..." his voice trailed off, his eyes doing another once over around the room.

"You eat today?"

Dean shook his head. "Sam went to get something. Don't know how much I'll be able to get down though. Probably not much."

The man nodded in understanding. "Eat little often. I know you won't want to, but it's better than nothing. It will slowly stretch your stomach until your ready to eat full meals again." Steven paused as if deciding if he should continue. "Would you like for me to talk with your brother?"

Dean stiffened. No, he would rather leave Sam out of it completely. But that was pointless. Sam was already involved and it would be better for him to know than to be caught off guard.

A single bob of the head. Steven looked pleased.

"I-if you're serious about keeping watch...." He glanced sideways. Dean was tired. This was the first time someone had offered to watch since he had gotten out of Purgatory.

"Why don't you sleep, son. You can work on eating in the morning."

Dean nodded, lying down on his side, if he opened his eyes, he still had a clear view of most of the room. But he let them fall shut. Dean felt the tension and stiffness leave his shoulders as he drifted into sleep.

~TH~

Authors note:

I'm debating a second part. If there's anything you'd like to see if I happened to do a second part, just let me know. If not, It might remain a one-shot. We'll see. I think it can end here just fine if I didn't write more. I'm marking it as complete but follow/subscribe if you like it just in case. It's up to my Muse.

Let me know what you thought! I don't know why but I'm obsessed with soldiers helping Dean and thinking that he is a soldier. My boy has issues for sure.

Anyway, there will likely be more fics soon, I'll try to update my others as well. Finals are this week so I'll be free very soon.

Leave a comment and make my day!

God bless, Jamie

Tags: @pepperonyscience @agents-of-fangirling @pricelesstrashpanda

udgdh maybe long request? so damien haas x reader where when ver the smosh gang go out to drink, damien and y/n are the sober ones that'll keep each other company but recently y/n has been drifting away bc she's in love with him. and one day damien gets hella drunk so y/n has to take him to her apt (which is roommates with Courtney) -maybe some drunk damien singing and giving y/n little kisses and he gets super hungover?? as well as angst/soft shiz?? sorry for the long request!! love yur fics!

A/n: whoa okay anon, I enjoyed myself too much in writing this and I hope this will be to your expectation. *wink wonk* u can anon me again if u liked it pls hahaha enjoy! Though I’m sorry because reader and Courtney aren’t roommates here sorrryyy!!!

summary: Drunk you accidentally kissed Damien. Then you avoid him for days until Courtney invited you out for a drink again. Feelings, kisses and drunk singing. What could go wrong?

a/n2: fluff and angstyy. ya’ll like hurting huh? haha

a/n3: hello, i made a Kofi account and I hope you would support me! I needed a little help with my financial shits and I hope my fanfics can be a little help. 

buy me coffee please, senpais

words: 2.4k

Also a little mature because of alcohol and kissing? lmao can u all guess the songs? it’s only two (I chose those songs because their voices suit Damien soooo much)

You sighed, empty beer bottle in hand as you looked aroundyou. Everyone was drunk. You saw Keith laying on top of Noah on the couch, bothguys in deep slumber. Courtney, Olivia, and Sarah were nowhere to be found, youjust assumed they had taken control over Shayne’s bed right now.

Oh right, the squad was at Shayne’s apartment. They had alittle drinking session, celebrated Shayne’s graduation. Speaking of Shayne,you saw him already fast asleep on the bean bag, empty drinks on the floor andhis Switch console in hand.

You slowly stood up, your head spinning a little and youstopped for a moment, eyes adjusting to the light that came from the kitchen.

You thought about turning the TV off but you scoffed, notwanting to step on Shayne because you knew your balance right now was not atits best.

As soon as you stepped on the kitchen- “Jesus!” You said alittle too loud, hand on your chest as you saw Damien on the floor, completelyhidden by the counters.

He smiled and waved, his cheeks pink and in his hand was abottle of beer.

You groaned, frowned at him but walked towards him. You tooka sit beside him, sliding down on the floor slowly as you cursed your back forhurting a little.

“Hey,”

“Hey,” You rested your head on his shoulder and took thedrink from his hand and chugged down its contents.

You felt the warmth radiating through Damien and you can’thelp but to get emotional. Was it from the alcohol? Might as well blame it ifgiven the chance.

You have liked Damien since the first time he told you hewatches anime. You were smitten, you were pulled towards his radiance that noone can escape.

Damien was the light that managed to blind you.

And now, seated side by side, with your feelings jumbled up.You can’t help but to want to hug him and maybe confess your feelings so theitching in your heart can stop.

He was a dream. Really. He’s a gentleman, loves anime,gaming, a very nice person, and funny. Ever since he became part of the Smoshfam, many people adored him. And you thought to yourself, you were lucky enoughto be his friend, might as well stay as friends than confessing your feelingsand turning into strangers.

Damien may be kind but you don’t know if he was the type ofperson that would avoid you if you confess.

“Y/N,”

“What?” You didn’t realize that you spaced out for a momentbecause Damien was chuckling as he took the bottle away from you.

Another thing that was stopping you from confessing wasbecause you heard something going on between Damien and his friend outsidework.

Of course, who were you to compete against a long-timefriend? One time you have seen Damien with this girl, she was pretty. Longblack hair and thin waist. They were talking animatedly as they walked towardsthe mall—and that pretty much hurt you.

They look so perfect.

“Hey are you okay?” Damien suddenly, his hands on yourcheeks. You realized you were looking at him with tears pooling in your eyes.You felt our insides churn as Damien wiped your tears away.

Your head was slowly spinning but you kept your focus onhim.

“Dames,” You murmured and Damien’s pink cheeks looked likethey were glowing. Maybe because of the alcohol. Yeah, the alcohol.

“I want a drink,”

Damien chuckled, tapping your forehead in the process. “Silly,you’re drunk.”

“No. I can still drink, hell I can even recite the company’smission and vision.”

“Really? Damien raised his brow as he looked down at you,then that’s when you realized your faces were to close. You were resting yourchin on his shoulder as you looked up at him with wide eyes, your noses almosttouching.

You were used to this. The closure. You were known for beingthe clingy, cuddly friend. You always hug your friends or cuddle with them.Whether it was Keith or Courtney, Shayne or Wes. Of course, Damien received themost cuddles from you.

“Damien,”

Your eyes were getting blurry, the spinning in your headintensified as you glanced down at Damien’s lips.

Blame the alcohol.

Your lips landed on his and it was so soft and—his lips werestill, you pulled back only to land a peck on his lips again.

You felt his hand on your cheeks and you wanted to kiss himagain but your eyes failed you as you closed them and drifted to sleep.

~

You groaned, the sunglasses you wore were not doing its jobbecause the sun was still blaring down on you, shaming you from what you havedone last night. After you woke up by 5AM, you found yourself on the couch,Noah and Keith on the floor sleeping soundly and no Damien to be found. Thenyou remembered what you have done and you immediately went home to find thenearest Starbucks.

You threw your empty cup in the trash nearby and sighed.

You have kissed Damien. Your friend.

Now he knew how you felt.

You felt a bile building up your throat but ignored it, theitching in your heart was worse. Maybe this was it, you thought, you hadpracticed what it would be like if you ended your friendship with Damien andthe time has come where your practice won’t go to waste.

Even though you were sobered up, your head still hurts. Andyou’re freaking nervous. It was a Sunday today, and tomorrow you will have togo to work and face Damien.

“Ugh!” You cursed up at the sun, wishing the ground belowwould just swallow you up.

~

The whole afternoon you managed to stay in your cubicle.With some short trips to the bathroom and pantry, you achieved to avoid anySmosh Squad.

It was going all too well when—

“Y/N!”

You squeaked as you looked up from your computer, only tosee Olivia, Courtney and of course Damien. You immediately avoided eye-contactto Damien.

“You startled me, Olivia,”

“Sorry! Just wanted to make sure how you were,”

“Sobered up.” You answered truthfully, eyes now back to thecomputer. You were glad you were wearing your hoodie over so they weren’t ableto see your blushing cheeks.

“You left before we all woke up,” Olivia whined followed byCourtney. “I’m sorry, I was in a hurry,”

“For what?” You just grinned at them. You all chatted for awhile, Damien remained quiet at the side before Courtney said goodbye andwalked away together with Olivia.

Now it was you and Damien.

You sink in your chair as you looked up at Damien.

“Can we talk—”

“I—”

“Y/N, can you come to my office for a while?” One of theproducers asked you, looking up at the file he was holding and gave a smallgreeting to Damien.

“Ah sure…” You gave Damien an apologetic look then left.

Not yet. You can’t handle the rejection yet.

~

It has been three days since you have hanged out with thesquad, and it has been three days since you have seen Damien. The first day wasyou plainly avoiding him and now it seemed that fate was on your side becauseyou haven’t really seen him.

It was a Friday, and the office was buzzing out of peoplewhen Courtney stopped you from leaving your cubicle.

“Hey pretty lady, care to have a night out with us?” She wasgrinning slyly and you rolled your eyes. “What’s in it for me?” You playedalong and Courtney wrapped her arm around your shoulder. “A very good time,”Both of you laughed out loud but you agreed anyway.

Even though you were cautious around Damien, it doesn’t meanyou would stop hanging out with the squad. They are also a friend of yours andyou kind of miss them.

When Courtney said that Olivia and the rest were already atIan’s place, you immediately raised your brow. “We’re not going to a bar?”

“Silly Y/N. Ian has offered free drinks!” She exclaimedexcitedly and you just shook your head, heading to the parking lot and in toCourtney’s car.

~

Three drinks in and the rest of the squad were singing alongthe karaoke Ian has set up in his living room. It was a mess, Shayne wassinging loudly with Olivia and Keith—he was using his CFM voice, Ian was alreadyhalf-drunk and Damien—Damien was on the loveseat, just drinking.

You sighed. When you and Courtney had arrived, you didn’tgreet each other and it honestly killed you. Courtney seemed to have noticedthe atmosphere and asked you what’s up, but being the introvert you were, youjust reasoned out that you were kind of tired.

It was this again. Alcohol.

You guessed since alcohol was involved right now, it wasthe right time for you and Damien to have that talk.

However, being the stubborn you, it was now past midnightand the squad was asleep, all through the night you didn’t get the chance totalk to him.

Courtney and Shayne were on separate bean bags, bothasleep next to each other, the TV still on. Ian was nowhere to be found, youguessed he was in his room. Keith was on the couch, drooling.

It was like déjà vu. Except you weren’t that drunk. You onlyhad three drinks and stopped as soon as you saw Damien drinking alone. Speakingof Damien, you looked at the seat where he was previously in and saw it wasempty.

You sighed.

Maybe he left.

You decided to maybe grab some water from Ian’s kitchen, andthen maybe sleep on the guestroom Ian mentioned to you earlier that that wasvacant.

You slowly stood up and stretch. You sluggishly walkedtowards the kitchen and gasped a little as you saw Damien hunched over thesink.

“Goddamnit Dames, you scared me,” He didn’t answer but youcan see that the tip of his ears was red. You walked up to him and tapped hisshoulders lightly, “Damien?”

“Hm?” He was obviously drunk because when he looked at you,he was sporting a wide smile, cheeks red and eyes squinted together. “Oh hey,Y/N,” He waved but lost his balance. You quickly took hold of his arm andpulled him towards you.

“Dames, how much did ya drink huh?” You got no reply asDamien draped his arm around your shoulder, “We should—sing!” He hiccupped andyou can smell the alcohol off of him. You decided that since you have been abad friend to Damien these past few days, you’ll settle him down on Ian’s spareroom.

“Come on big boy, let’s get you to bed,” You looked at thesink and saw it was clean, meaning Damien didn’t throw up. His hair was wet somaybe he washed his face.

“Whaaat? But we’re singing,” You just shook your head andguided him, thankful that he wasn’t putting all his weight on you. When youreached the spare room, you gently laid him to sit down but he fell on his backcausing you to lose your own balance, and you found yourself in Damien’s arms.

“Y/N,” He called out softly, his eyes closed and youremained still.

“Called her for thefirst time yesterday~” Damien started, even though he’s drunk, he was stillsinging beautifully. “Finally found themissing…. Part of me,” he stopped in the middle but he continued, he hashis other hand in the air, swinging with the song he was singing.

“Felt so close but youwere far away~ Left me without anything to say~~”

With hands on his chest, you pushed yourself up gently untilhis other hand stopped you.

“Y/N,” He called softly.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

Okay, the million-dollar question you weren’t expectingright now.

You were about to answer when Damien released a chuckle.

He released a sighed as he now sang another song, “To be drunk~” Damien started, eyesclosed but he pressed his forehead against yours. “And in love in New York City~” He sang, missing some notes butyou knew that song very well.

“Mmm into morningcoffee,” He murmured but still in tune, “Burning mmhm the hours talking,” he stopped and he opened his eyes.

You both stared at each other.

“Damn…” Hewhispered before leaning in and capturing your lips in a sweet, short kiss.

You instantly closed your eyes and savored the kiss.Damien’s lips were as soft as what you remembered and you want to cry.

Damien’s drunk and you shouldn’t—Damien pulled back, a shysmile etched on his lips as he continued to stare at you.

“Please don’t avoid me… I like you,” Your heart fluttered fora moment, fat tears pouring down your eyes as Damien pulled you in closer for ahug.

You stayed there, both of your feet still on the edge of thebed and you were sure it would hurt in the morning but you don’t care.

Damien likes you. And was hurting because of you.

Boy, you two have a lot to talk about tomorrow morning.

~

You heard a groan beside you and you squinted your eyes, themorning light through the window greeted you so harshly that caused you to buryyour face in a strong, warm chest.

“Y/N…” A surprised voice of Damien welcomed you, and youremembered that both of you fell asleep hugging each other. “Hey,” Yougreeted with a smile and Damien was confused. Confused because he woke up withyou in his arms.

“H-how? I’m s-sorry,” He stuttered but you just hugged him.

“No, it’s okay. I-…” You started, Damien visibly relaxing inyour hug.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you, Damien. After that kiss… I… Iwas a coward,”

“No, Y/N,”

“And I like you…”

Silence. You buried your face on his chest and you heard himsigh.

“If only we talked sooner, we would’ve been kissing,” Damiencommented and you laughed, hitting his stomach softly.

Silence covered the both of you before Damien cleared histhroat, “I… I remember singing last night,” You laughed out loud, hugging himtighter. “Yeah, drunk singing. It was adorable,”

Damien grinned, “Would you allow me to sing to you in thefuture?” You felt your cheeks heating up and you just nodded. You felt Damien’slips on your head.

Now, this wasn’t what you practiced for but you ain’tcomplaining.