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cozy-cinnamon-roll · 10 days

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Stitches (Part II)

(Read Part I Here! used to be We Interrupt This Broadcast... changed the name because I feel like this fits better 😅)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Rosie, Ler!OC, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, very brief blood mention, medical themes (non-graphic & painless). And again, this is set right after Alastor gets his ass handed to him by Adam, so you can expect some angst (don't worry, he gets better).

If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige. 💕

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

"Almost ready" I said. "Basically finished" I said. Sorry y'all, the Chronic Illness Fairy struck. 😅 I will say this was my favorite part to write, but also the one I'm most uncertain about... bit more angst in this installment and I'm not much of an angst writer lol... but with Rosie in the mix (especially as a ler), angst never lasts long. 🥰

Also I changed the title. Hopefully it's not confusing that way... cuz without Part 1 this fic makes zero sense 😅

One last thing... I'm so happy y'all like Trudy! Was thinking about posting a lil sketch of her at some point (I need a new insomnia project now that this fic is done 😅). I've been having a truly awful few weeks on the anxiety front, so all the positive feedback on Part I has been quite literally making my days 💕

Hope you enjoy!!

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"Ooh, you stubborn little bastard. You're still gonna refuse to laugh?" Rosie mutters.

Alastor doesn't dare try to speak. All he can manage is a defiant shake of his head.

"Look, my friend. If you 'don't mind a little tickling,' and getting all giggly is your specialty…" Rosie tweaks his bottom rib, eliciting a noise that comes just short of a squeak. "What, exactly, is the problem here?"

"I'm supposed to be in control!" he grinds out through his twitching grin.

"You are in control, sir." Trudy abruptly withdraws her hands, holding them up innocently. "You can tell me to stop at any time."

Alastor cringes. He was sorta hoping no one would point that out.

"Which is why I find it so fascinating that you haven't yet." A sly smirk creeps across Rosie's face.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"I- I'm humoring you!"

"Humoring me?" Rosie tilts her head. "My dear, I hope you're not doing this just for my sake. If you don't want Trudy to check for further injury-"

"No, I do! O-on my terms!"

"This is on your terms."

"Yes, but-"

"In fact, you insisted."

He stumbles again, before mumbling another meager, "…to humor you!"

Trudy shoots her boss a disoriented look - but Rosie, as usual, is hearing her friend loud and clear.

"Alastor." Rosie rolls her eyes, gestures for Trudy to step aside, and scoots over to place a hand on his knee. "Adam is dead. Everyone in hell thinks you're either succumbing to your wounds in some remote gutter or hiding in whatever alternate dimension you just spent the last seven years. You're not even 'on air'." She leans in. "You can drop the act for a moment, if it's what you need."

That certainly hits the mark. For the first time, Alastor's smile falters - not completely dropping, but certainly losing much of the strained quality it's had since he arrived.

"I wish I could, my dear."

Encouraged, Rosie continues. "Well, what's stopping ya? As much as I love spending time with Alastor the Radio Demon… if you wanna take this opportunity to let out whoever's underneath that effervescent grin of yours, you know we wouldn't mind."

Alastor swallows - and for the first time in a decades, Rosie finds his expression difficult to read. "Rosie, I'm afraid I can't really..."

"I mean, you've been holding that same silly show-host-smile for years! Don't tell me you've never gotten tired of it!"

"It's sewn on, Rosie."

"…What?"

He hesitates. "Let's just say today wasn't the first time I've been, ah... stitched up." As he speaks, he gestures to his toothy grin. And for once, there's not a trace of distortion in his voice.

Rosie's dark eyes go wide when she realizes what he means. The cannibal overlord just stands there for a beat, in an uncharacteristic moment of shock.

But, being Rosie, she quickly recovers. "Well, so what?"

"I'm just saying, I'm afraid I can't really drop the act."

"Nonsense! Since when has your act had anything to do with your face?" Rosie flicks her hand, as if brushing the thought aside. "Who cares if you can't show genuine Alastor. I wanna hear him."

"But my microphone..."

"You're doing just fine without it."

Once again, this attempt at reassurance only makes Alastor look more disturbed. "Th-this can't be me!"

"...Well, no. This right here sure isn't the Alastor I know. But…"

Alastor is barely listening to her anymore. His broadcast persona has been his sole identity since he was alive. Now his radio tower has been reduced to rubble, his microphone snapped clean in half, even his carefully-styled clothing left in tatters…

If this is the Genuine Alastor he's now stuck with - panicked, stuttering, weak - he can't imagine how he'll ever be able to face the rest of hell…

But these racing thoughts are once again interrupted by nails tracing up his sides. A sharp yelp cuts the air as poor Alastor just about jumps out of his skin.

"…Perhaps I can offer a little help?" Rosie suggests gently, once she has his undivided (and adorably flustered) attention. "On your terms, of course?"

Alastor just gazes back at her for a long moment. "What do you have in mind?"

"I happen to know something about you that even you can't fake."

The radio demon hesitates… before heaving a sigh and, to Rosie's surprise, giving a small nod of consent.

She breaks into a brilliant (and frankly terrifying) smile.

Before Alastor can brace himself, Rosie's hands have both found his sides and begun working into his waist. Having just watched him squirm around under Trudy's thorough probing twice (and adored every second of it), she already has a pretty good idea of where his worst spots are.

Which is made abundantly clear by Alastor's reaction. Within seconds he's gone from still trying to hold it all in by habit, to giggling into his hands, to cackling hysterically.

And it's the kind of laughter she's spent the last seven years missing. This isn't the confident, taunting chuckle he brings out for battles or brushing off rivals; this is bright, helpless, occasionally hiccuping laughter, the kind that is nearly impossible for him to stop once he starts - and the kind she only has the privilege of hearing when something truly amuses him.

"You can't sew your laughter on," Rosie reminds him. "This is all yours."

Rosie's fingers creep up under his shirt to scribble on bare tummy, adding a couple new sweet spots to her mental catalogue. This technique brings out even more of her favorite little quirks: the way he bats playfully (and completely ineffectually) at her wrists; his repeated attempts to speak around his laughter that only result in frantic spurts of incomprehensible, giggle-laced gibberish.

As she traces her nails across his lower belly she also finds a tiiiny layer of unexpected pudge. Which probably shouldn't surprise her - he's been out of the battle scene for seven years, after all. All those deer carcasses have to go somewhere.

Regardless, she finds it terribly endearing for some reason... and the surge of affection translates into a corresponding surge in the intensity of Rosie's tickles.

"AHaha! Ro- Rosie!" he blurts, his voice jumping a full octave higher than normal. "Stop!!"

Rosie removes her hands immediately. "Stop?"

"Aha- ah- well- I mean, er…" He stumbles breathlessly, and gives a sheepish cough.

"You didn't really want me to stop, did you?"

Rosie resumes with a chuckle, reeling herself in just a little. "How 'bout we say... oh... 'enough,' if you really want me to quit?"

Of course, she has to go and say it out loud.

"M-more of a reflehex..." he admits reluctantly.

Alastor tosses a shaky thumbs-up at her, already too lost in his own giggles to manage a verbal reply.

And he's gotta admit… Rosie was absolutely right. He wouldn't stop her right now for all the souls in hell. There's a reason Alastor has the most recognizable evil cackle of any other overlord. He can't help but find dissolving into laughter as cathartic and exhilarating as always - even if this time, it's not at some poor soul's misfortune. It's a result of his best friend's affection for her darling deer demon.

"As fun as getting your soft little belly is," Rosie muses, pausing to let Alastor catch his breath for a moment, "I can't help but wonder if you're ticklish anywhere else…"

Alastor may be off the air, but Rosie can practically hear the screech of microphone feedback just by the look on his face. "….I plead the fifth."

"Have you considered his ears?" Trudy pipes up shyly. While she'd managed to restrain herself behind an impeccably professional bedside manner earlier, it had taken everything in her power not to stroke Alastor's ears when she'd been close enough to do so. They were just. so. fluffy.

"Ohhh, heavens…" Alastor, for his part, curls in on himself at the mere suggestion.

Rosie grins. "Hey, 'no' is always an option."

A long pause. Alastor can't believe he's considering this. But the sensation of being tickled, as unbearable as it is, does feel awfully pleasant… and it's been so long since anyone has dared to touch him…

And what else does he have to lose at this point, anyway?

"I suppose if you're… very gentle…"

"Are you aware that your ears are the softest thing in the nine circles?"

This stipulation ends up backfiring. When it comes to his ears, gentle is worse. So, so much worse.

Poor Alastor is too busy clutching his stomach and snickering madly into his sleeve to reply.

"I should know, I work in retail. These right here-" Rosie traces her fingers down the feathery-soft edges, sending the radio demon into a new round of hysterics. "-Would fetch a pretty penny."

"They're nohot for saHA-ale!!"

"Nooo, I should say not." Rosie's hapless victim lurches back into the cushions as her fingers find the fluffy region at the base of his ears. Even without the microphone, his cackles have no problem filling the room. "You're the only demon classy enough to wear them."

"And don' you - GAHaha! - f-forget it!" He's so drunk on laughter now that he's beginning to slur his words. His careful elocution has gone the same place as his steady tone, and lack of stutter.

Luckily, he's also far too drunk on laughter to care.

...Right about there, Rosie notices that the faint hum of radio static in the air is no longer just in her head.

He is laughing his heart out for the first time in weeks. Genuinely laughing for the first time in decades. And laughing completely for himself, for his own enjoyment, without need for intimidation or control or image or audience, for the first time since long before he died.

While Trudy typically can't say much for her self-preservation instinct, she's got enough of one to feel hesitant joining her boss in tickling the most powerful overlord in hell (outside the pretense of medical intervention, at least). So she just stands back, watching fondly as The Most Dangerous Overlord This Side of the Pentagram utterly destroys the deer demon.

...At least, until she notices a flicker of green light out of the corner of her eye. Lying forgotten on the end table, the splintered ends of Alastor's microphone are sparking and crackling like live wires.

The surgeon creeps over for a closer look, staring in fascination. And then - just as Rosie gets poor Alastor behind the ears and delivers a scribble to his tummy at the same time - she ever-so-gently nudges the fractured ends closer to one another.

To her surprise, a bright green spark arcs clear across the gap. For a fraction of a second, the whole staff radiates a flash of a familiar green glow.

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"Keep him laughing, Rosie," Trudy murmurs over her shoulder. It appears the Radio Demon's downfall will be nothing more than an intermission.

Thanks for being so patient with me y'all! Hope it was worth the wait 💕

💜- Cozy

#lee!alastor #ler!rosie #ticklish!alastor #oh deer he's ticklish #hazbin hotel tickling #hazbin hotel tickles #ticklefic #dr. trudy sawblade #my ocs

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luwritesomething · 1 year

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read the thing you wrote abt mickey altieri 🥺🥺 i love that man so much. if i could, i was wondering if i could request something abt him? maybe something where the read has insomnia and he helps them actually sleep <33 only if you want, of course 🫶

Mickey Altieri x Reader: Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby.

Words: 1199

Warnings: mickey is a killer but reader doesn’t know that (however this is not what the fic is about). there are light mentions of anxiety, stress and pills (for headaches), i think there's swearing (bc it's me).

Summary: after a movie night with your boyfriend mickey, you don’t want to go to sleep.

Author's note: thank you so much for requesting, @altierirose!!! mickey will always have my heart, and he’s so fun to write for. i didn’t make this explicitly about insomnia, but reader does have trouble sleeping and that’s what this is about. no hate to dirty dancing, btw!!! (just a bit.) i'm giving you a follow bc there's not much people appreciating our boy... feel free to request whenever !!!! this is my attempt at not using "y/n" anymore.

Criticism is appreciated and request are open (except for the Wednesday fandom)! Hit that anon button and tell me your idea! You can see the character i write for HERE.

Every Friday night was reserved to you and Mickey since you two had started dating, some months after the beginning of your first college year. It had been agreed by the two of you, because you had soon realized that college life was messy, difficult and crowded; and a little bit of bonding time reserved for your relationship sounded like a good idea. Slowly, it escalated from cute little dates in the campus’ cafeteria to coffee shops outside the enclosure, until you two finally retreated to one plan and one plan only — movie night.

Fairly chosen, one week he was the one to choose one of his movies in between his precious collection, worthy of a Film student; and the next one you would choose, sometimes with better or worse criteria, but always having fun. Popcorn, candy and a blanket pulling you close together, his hand either around your shoulders or wrapped around your waist, letting you lean into him. It was a great plan for a Friday night.

This week it was your turn, and you had purposely chosen a movie that would piss off his movie buff extraordinare’s taste; something like Dirty Dancing. Mickey had bitched around for quite a while, not letting you hear the somewhat awful dialogues, but amusing you anyway because even if he could be annoying, Mickey was still funny and charming, in his own way.

The movie ended not too late, to Mickey’s relief, and as soon as the credits rolled in your little TV he jumped out of the bed with the empty bowl of popcorn in his hands, while he roasted the movie like it had personally offended him.

“It just makes no sense.” He said, putting the bowl in the only table you and your roommate had in your shared dorm. Your friend had always been kind and comprehensive enough to allow you to have the dorm whenever Derek, Mickey’s roommate, didn’t want to leave his. Mickey turned to you, still in bed, with a wide grin. “And seriously, Baby? It’s just so unrealistic for someone to spend a whole summer being called Baby by everyone.”

“Mickey, it’s a movie.” You laughed quietly, your head cocking to the side.

Mickey pointed at you with his index finger. “That’s not an excuse, and you know that.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Whatever.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that sight, and you watched him do so. Mickey looked really handsome when he laughed, as his face filled with joy and beaming happiness — you liked the way he enjoyed himself around you. It was something sweet.

“I’m dead.” Mickey was able to say as soon as he stopped laughing, exhaustion washing over him after a hard week. His body felt sore, you could tell by the way he crawled to your side in bed. His body next to yours, even on top of the sheets and blanket, felt so familiar. A smile was shot your way. “Let’s go to sleep, uh?”

Something inside you crumbled suddenly as soon as you saw him getting inside the bed, without bothering to look if you were doing the same because he thought it was rather obvious. It produced you a feeling close to anxiety, thinking about sleeping while you slid by his side — this week had been hard on both of you, but what had kicked your ass the most wasn’t assignments and classes, like it had happened to him, but sleep.

A series of all-nighters the last week had thrown you off, and now your sleep schedule was messed up. You had laid in bed every night, eyes closed, waiting for Orpheus to sweep you out of the world and into sleeping, but it hadn’t happened — as much, an hour or two before your alarm went off you would fall slightly asleep, producing you low headaches that you had successfully avoided with a few pills.

“But it’s so early.” You said, and your voice went a little higher like it used to do whenever you lied, catching Mickey’s attention.

His eyes drifted to your alarm clock behind you, head tilted. “You’re not tired?”

“I am.” You sighed, and then you stuttered a bit, before confessing. “But… I haven’t been sleeping well. It’s– It’s silly.”

Mickey’s body language changed instantly. His back straightened, so he could sit up with it against the headboard, body turned to look at you and give you his full attention. His eyes scanned you slightly, making you look away in embarrassment — you were a grown adult, and not wanting to go to sleep without a good reason was childish, you knew.

“Is this about the murders going on?” Mickey asked quietly, like someone else apart from you could hear him talking about the matter that had been hunting everyone in your circle for the last couple of weeks. Two people had been murdered in the new, based on real events, slasher’s opening night. “Because if it’s that, I can promise you, you have nothing to worry about.”

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head, to prove your point, then just shrugged. Mickey watched you curiously, carefully. “I think I’m just too stressed. The exams, and all… College life isn’t as good as they paint it and, I don’t know, maybe I can’t take it.”

A beat of silence, then two, before Mickey’s brows furrowed together. “That’s bullshit.” It surprised you enough to not let you speak instantly, giving him time to speak first. “I mean, I understand you being stressed, it’s natural. But if you can’t take it, then no one can.”

“That’s not true.”

“But it is!” He insisted, seriousness written all over his face. You had only seen him this serious once or twice before, when he was passionately defending a horror movie from Randy’s criticism, and when he had asked you out for the first time. “I think you’re taking it all too seriously. You stress too much about every single test and—”

“But it is serious, Mickey.” You interrupted softly, wrapping your arms around your knees for comfort. “I can’t slow down.”

“It shouldn’t take your sleep away.” He retorted. His hand reached out for you, comfortably squeezing once. “You’re doing great. I mean that. But you need to chill.”

Nodding slightly, your gaze fell down and away from him, processing his words. The silence settled between you, but Mickey needed to know what you were thinking — not anymore to have the upperhand, but because he was worried, and if there was something pure in him, that was his love for you.

His hand left yours to barely graze your chin, lifting your head and gaze up. “Is that all of it?” Mickey asked softly. His eyes shone. “Nothing more on your mind?”

“That’s all.” You muttered, nodding slightly. He gave you a smile.

“Wanna go to sleep now?”

Once again you nodded, and you two slid inside the bed. He switched off the lights and his arm surrounding your waist and pulling you closer didn’t startle you. Mickey didn’t fall asleep until you did, surrendering yourself to the calm circles Mickey rubbed onto your back and his even breathing close to you.

#mickey altieri #mickey altieri fic #mickey altieri fanfiction #mickey altieri x reader #timothy olyphant #scream franchise #scream #scream 2 #lu writes #lu writing #my writing #writing #fanfic #cigarettes after sex #inclusive reader

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writersblockedx · 2 years

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𝙎𝙪𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

Hi, Welcome to my supernatural masterlist! As this is the fandom I seem to have written the most for, it’s taken up around half of my main masterlist, so I thought it’d be easier to have a whole separate one where you can find every fic related to supernatural.

★ - Angst ☆ - Fluff ☆ﾐ - Series

Dean Winchester

★ Careful What You Wish For Dean’s been pining for his best friend for years now. Though, it isn’t until he breaks out from the Jinn’s dream world (in which she took the role of his girlfriend), that he comes clean.

★ Survivors Guilt When Dean returns back to the land of the living, he seeks out to locate his girlfriend. He finds her sitting alone at a bar; it’s obvious this time without him has changed her.

★ When Evil isn’t so Bad Dean was brought up to believe demons were nothing but the enemy, a monster to be slain. But when the Winchester Brothers find Y/n, a demon whose not so bad, his opinion begins to sway.

☆ Remedies for Insomniacs Y/n is notorious for getting herself hurt. So when she can’t sleep, Dean fixes up everything he can to ease her insomnia.

★The Soulmate Situation It’s written in every hunter handbook that to stay clear of ones soulmate; a rule of which Dean has lived by all his life. After Y/n fixes up Dean’s wounds, it becomes clear she’s more than just his nurse. The boy does everything he can to push her away.

☆ﾐ The Side Effects of Curses While hunting a witch, Y/n gets a rather harmful curse placed on her. Slowly, the people around her begin to forget her existence - Dean is the last, and only, person who remembers, stopping at nothing to lift the curse. Part two When Y/n bumps into her forgotten friends on a hunt, they team up together, unaware of how they once knew her. Dean gets a hunch something is up and doesn’t stop until he figures out what exactly.

★ Lawless Y/n is assigned the impossible case of catching the Winchester brothers. When she finally gets her hands on them, a threat of which only they can solve hits. Y/n has no choice but to turn to them for help.

★ If It was a preference You had your own history with the Winchester brothers, in particular, Dean. So when the two bumped into you, accompanied by a new hunter partner, jealousy can’t help but grow.

★ That Grey Area When Sam and Dean discover that their fellow friend and hunter is in fact getting involved in witchcraft, they can’t help but take matters into their own hands.

☆ The Exception Y/n and Dean have been silently pining for one another since they first met. Though, things suddenly start to come out when the two venture on a hunt on their own.

☆ Bad Dreams When the mark begins to conjure vicious nightmares for Dean, it’s only a matter of time before his best friend finds out.

★ Places We Shouldn’t Go When Y/n suffers a panic attack at a crowded bar, the brothers do all they can to help calm her.

☆ Unwind After a long hunt, both of the brothers are tired and in need of Y/n’s comfort.

Sam Winchester

☆ Coffee Stains and Stolen Jackets Sam is utterly infatuated with a girl in his weekly lecture. When she comes in one day, wearing a coffee stained shirt, he offers her his jacket; it just so happens to be the start of something.

★ Places We Shouldn’t Go When Y/n suffers a panic attack at a crowded bar, the brothers do all they can to help calm her.

☆ Unwind After a long hunt, both of the brothers are tired and in need of Y/n’s comfort.

Casitel Novak

★ Healing Wounds Y/n usually sits behind the front lines, doing all she can to research the monsters that the brothers slaughter. When the girl finds herself shoved into the frontlines, Cass worries it may go south. When it does, he struggles to keep his feelings to himself.

If you’d like to get tagged in any future supernatural fics click here! Other than that, happy reading!

#superntaural #supernatural fanfic #supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader #imagine #fanfic #masterlist

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writerpyre · 4 months

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Hello!!

It’s been a LONG time but if you’re inclined to read please have a bonus chapter to an older fic: first time in just over four years that I’ve posted anything for any fandom!

I found it in my files today and being as it’s been so long, I figured why the heck not, as I reckon it’s about time I came back with something. It’s not technically new writing, but I’m pretty gosh darn happy with myself either way. I’m finally at a place in my life where maybe things are going to be ok? I mean, I’m 31.

I’ll see what else the fates bring (my bestie is pretty unwell — not sure what’s with this people closest to me getting horribly sick thing), but I think I’m in a place where if I go back to using my writing to cope I’ll be fine. I can at least hope.

(For those who have by this point probably given up anticipating an update for Fulcrum (or anything related to it) never fear, for that one is next on my agenda! I’m ‘Bound’ and ‘Determined’ to get John through his decade-long predicament. Haha.)

Either way, have a chapter. :)

(For those who are unaware, Kent is my OC, Virgil’s identical twin who died of complications from a heart condition, three days after their birth. Technically part of my AIE “AU”, I originally wasn’t intending to ever post this part, as it’s a practice piece I used to look at who Kent Tracy may have been had he survived past infancy.)

Midnight

The soft sounds of Virgil’s snores rumble through the room from the top bunk, but Kent lays in the bottom bed, wide awake with his pen in one hand, the flashlight in another; scrawling furiously across the pages of his notebook.

It’s past eleven again, and the fourteen-year-old boy can’t sleep; the insomnia from sleeping all day has kicked in again, and all he can do is while away the hours until his father and older brothers roll out of bed. He doesn’t fear waking up his twin brother; Virgil doesn’t wake up unless someone holds the alarm clock right next to his ear; volume up on full, so it’s highly unlikely that he’s going to be disturbed from the light.

He doesn’t mind overly much though, these quiet hours before the dawn. Being one of six children often means that aside from the two hours of study that their father enforces every day, it’s very rare for any of the Tracy children to have any time to themselves without another sibling interrupting it somehow.

It’s nice to have this time to write, and consider and dream without his two youngest brothers asking ‘What are you doing, KT? Can I see? Lemme look!’ he finds it bliss to not have his father wanting him to help with chores or his grandmother wanting him to watch Alan while she takes Virgil and Gordon out, because their father is busy in the office again.

It’s peaceful, and as much as he likes a bit of chaos and excitement, Kent also likes to have some quiet now and again. He loves the way the moon streams through the curtains in the bedroom, how he can listen to Virgil dreaming and feel his brother’s happiness and quiet soul soar through their twin bond.

He feels the pressures of being the sickly child; the one who everyone has to be careful of and look out for too much, and for Kent, these moments when he doesn’t have them looking over him in concern and hovering when he’s ‘too pale’ or ‘overtired’, it just makes him feel more whole somehow. At fourteen, he just wants them to stop seeing him as the ill one and allow him to grow without them worrying that he’s going to overtax his weakened heart.

In these moments, he can remember his mother, and how like him; she was a writer, although with six children before she died, she never got to achieve her dream of getting a novel published. Sure, she wrote for the local newspaper, along with the kindergarten teaching and the music lessons she taught in order to help their father with the monthly bills, but it’s something that Kent knew she always wanted to do. Now she’s gone, he’s more determined than ever to achieve that dream, and make his mom as proud of him as she was as his other brothers.

That’s not to say that he didn’t think she was, but he just wants to do something that his three older brothers haven’t yet.

Kent loves his family, but he just wants to get out of this little box, pre-packaged, made just for him, the one that labels him as the sickly child, the one who is to be worried over and assisted.

It’s not that his father, Grandpa and Grandma don’t expect him to amount to anything, just that somehow, Kent has this invisible label on him that instantly informs people that he’s ill and that he is given just that little bit more leeway to get to places a little easier. There’s nothing more Kent hates more than to be told that he needs to take it easy, or that he can’t do something, just because he’s sick.

That’s why he uses this time, past the hour he should’ve been in dreamland to work harder on anything he ever has in his life, because he wants to make them proud, to break out of the accidental constraints that his condition has placed upon him. He’ll rise above and beyond those automatic assumptions, and prove to everyone that he can do just as much as his brothers. Even if it takes him a little bit longer, even if he has to work a little bit harder, he will achieve his goals.

As he packs up his book and caps the pen an hour later, still not sleepy but content that he’s worked with what he can for tonight, Kent is determined that he’s going to become a published author before he hits his eighteenth birthday, because he’s a Tracy, and for a Tracy, failure isn’t an option.

He’ll lie awake for the rest of the night, and yes, he’ll be completely exhausted and will spend the day in bed tomorrow, but he’ll keep with him through his grandmother’s fussing and John and Scott’s smothering, the peace and tranquillity that this time has given him.

He’s happy, and he knows that if his mother is watching, she’ll be proud.

#pyre talks #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #fandom #my writing #pyre writing tag #The Bound Universe #Kent Tracy #Kent Slayton Tracy #with any luck I *will* update Fulcrum soon so I’m not lying in my author’s notes #personal #long time: no writing

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general--winter · 1 year

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uchiha shisui x reader - get some sleep

author's note: I promise I am working on requests, but holy shit I love Shisui so much. There's not enough content for me to be satisfied, so I think it's my job to provide. Please take this vent fic about my insomnia and my long distance relationship where I wish I could cuddle with my partner to sleep like this :(

rating: general

fandom: naruto

pairings: uchiha shisui x gn!reader

word count: 2288

warnings: insomnia

summary: You haven't gotten a good night's rest in weeks, and your roommate (secret crush, actually!) takes notice. You try to keep yourelf under control, but the sleep deprivation catches up to you.

The back of your eyelids are supposed to be the best thing you look at every day. Most people spend one third of their lives looking at it, so how could it possibly be so hard for you to enjoy it?

Your whiny grunt echoed throughout the eerily quiet and dark room, the sound of shuffling sheets ricocheting off of every surface imaginable while you adjusted your sleeping position yet again. Their slipping noise might as well have been as loud as standing next to a damn waterfall, because it made your eyes snap open for the umpteenth time that night. Accompanied by a throbbing headache and a parched mouth, you resigned yourself to a while longer with no sleep and padded your way into the kitchen of your apartment.

3:28 read the clock while you poured yourself a glass of water from the almost-empty filter. Fuck, had you seriously been awake and aware that entire time? Catching the clock in your room throughout the night at 12:50, 1:36, 2:47, or even 3:04 convinced you that yes, you couldn’t sleep. Again.

How long has it been since you’ve gotten more than one or two hours of fitful rest at night? A week, at least. Your sanity was practically caffeine and a prayer strung together with kiddie glue and ninety-nine cent store twine. At first you thought it was work. Five back-to-back A rank missions would ruin any jonin’s month, especially if you flubbed the last one for your team due to lacking the coordination necessary. But even after you were given the next three weeks off by the new Hokage, a friend of yours by the name of Kakashi, it was as if sleep was even harder to come by.

You figured maybe it was a jutsu of some kind that an enemy had been able to place on you, but Sakura was personally able to confirm you were not under any sort of chakra influence at the hospital. She was able to prescribe a medication to help you sleep while you waited for a formal appointment on the matter, but when you got back to your room, you gazed at the half-empty bottle in disappointment. All that did is give me the migraine of my life, you thought, wincing at the pain that was no longer there. You had headaches every night after laying fitfully on your pillows for hours on end, but you could have sworn that one had you dying, nauseous and wanting to murder the sun and every bird that started chirping that morning.

A door on the other end of your apartment gently made a noise, something you definitely didn’t expect. Your breathing became rapid as you sat on the edge of your bed, waiting to see if you heard anything else. You weren’t in a state to fight at all, and your roommate, Shisui Uchiha, somehow slept like a fucking log when he wasn’t on a mission. Your face contorted into a scowl. Sure, Shisui was nice, you considered him among your closest friends, and you maybe had the slightest crush on him, but this already smelled rotten of a half-baked scheme. But there’s no way you woke him up in the middle of the night, right?

Knock, knock, knock!

The sound of your own bedroom door being gently tapped made you jump and wind up a fist, ready to see who would come through, daring to invade your home.

“Are you alright in there?” a gentle voice you recognized immediately sounded through the thick wood.

You had woken your roommate and secret crush, Shisui, up. Somehow. You’d been so quiet, too, at least you thought. Why was he up? Or was he never asleep?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded in a rasp through the door. “Just had to grab some water. Forgot to take a glass with me to bed.”

He made a noise of confirmation. “Sounds like you need it. Jeez. You were stumbling through the kitchen like a bull in a pottery shop.”

“Is there anything you need?” you pointedly asked. I’d like to get back to kicking and whining in bed.

“I actually can’t sleep. You want to hang out for a little while?” Shisui proposed through the door.

An odd development. Shisui of the Body Flicker, one of the strongest shinobi in Konoha, was to your knowledge, the heaviest sleeper you’d ever met.

“No, I’m okay.”

“Come on, not gonna help a friend out?”

Ugh. He’s gonna pull this.

You swung the door into your room to greet him. From above, Shisui was giving you a pout and serious puppy dog eyes. His black locks were smushed in on one side, making a small mound of hair. And looking at his eyes, they were cutely puffed up from lack of sleep. This man was too adorable for his own good. You wanted to reach your hand out to smooth his hair, and you almost did in your sleep-deprived state.

“Guilting me, huh?” you instead said.

“You know you can’t resist.” He threw a lopsided grin your way.

“No, I can’t,” you grumbled. You took your full glass and stumbled out of your room. The lamp had been flicked on, bathing the simple common room in a warm, yellow light. Vaguely, you recognized that splashes of water were tipping over your cup and hitting the rug.

In one swift motion, Shisui took a seat on the couch and draped his arm over the top, inviting you to sit next to him. You took him up, grabbing the remote on your way. Ah, you wondered, he probably just wants to watch more television and didn’t want to disturb me.

A year or two ago, due to the many scientific alliances and treaties between the great shinobi nations, technology and communications developed at a rapid pace. One of these new inventions, television, provided entertainment in the homes of the masses via video. The television could show the viewer anything that was filmed with cameras; it looked like you were actually somewhere you were not. And well, your roommate had developed a habit of watching various nature documentaries in his down time. For the cute animals.

“Do you wanna watch Kiri Geographic?” Shisui snatched the remote from your hands and flicked on the television. “I’m going to put it on anyway, but what I’m asking is if you’ll be interested or if you’ll whine the entire time.”

“No, no,” you muttered. “Sounds like a good plan.”

The channel flicked on. On the screen, images of various sea creatures that lived in the Land of Water were shown. You registered some seals preying on penguins. The storylines of these shows really were ridiculous, the narrator always took the side of the prey, but what about the seal? Doesn’t he have to eat? Why does no one ever…

You jolted up automatically as your muscles lost control of themselves; your body began to slump towards the man sitting next to you. The smell of rosewood wafted to your nose and shocked your entire system when you realized your head had almost plopped straight onto his chest. Shit. I wouldn’t have been able to recover from that.

“All good there?” Shisui asked, not peeling his eyes from the television. You thought you caught a glint in his eye.

“Um… yeah, I’m okay. I just…” you started, your voice drifting off. You hated bothering Shisui with your issues, no matter how big or small. Unfortunately, he was persistent, and your brain was immensely foggy.

“Just what?” He lowered his arm to your shoulders, making your entire body stiffen like a wooden board. The simple motion sucked all of the breath out of your lungs and caused your heart to skip a beat. There was no reply to muster.

“Seriously, (Y/N), use your words. Something’s up with you.” Shisui threw another grin at you.

Why is he acting so damn flirty tonight? you wondered. Sure, the two of you teased each other all of the time, but not like this…

“I, uh. I think I’m getting sleepy out here, so I’m gonna go back to my room,” you lied through your teeth, springing up and away from Shisui’s touch. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And don’t feel bad about the television, it won’t keep me up.” No, my dumb fucking body is doing that just fine.

“Your body is keeping you awake?” Shisui flicked off the program, leaning forward towards you. Had you just said your thoughts aloud? Fuck. It sure didn’t feel like it. In embarrassment, you scampered back to your room, the Uchiha hot on your heels.

A feeble attempt to shut your door was met by Shisui’s calloused hand on the edge, boxing you in. The warm light filtered into your dark room around the corner.

“Can I come in?” he gently asked, his soft eyes looking down at you.

I don’t want to bother him but… I think he wants to help, your brain struggles. On one hand, it’s totally mortifying to imagine telling Shisui any of the problems that had plagued you for the past weeks. But your body had enough of this. It made the decision for you, hijacking your brain.

“Yes, you can come in. Please help.”

Giving up, you opened the door further for him, immediately getting into your double bed to hide under the covers. Shisui took a seat on the edge, his eyes softly looking down at you.

“I know everything from Lady Tsunade and Sakura-san,” he said in his smooth and relaxing voice. “You can’t fall asleep. Nothing’s working.”

“Why would they tell you?” you questioned back with an unintended amount of venom. “I was about to tell you anyway.”

“They know how stubborn you are. Kakashi had to force you to take off for the next few weeks, yeah?”

Dramatically, you turned your face into your pillow and let out a groan.

“Okay, so what? What are you gonna do about it?” You turned to face Shisui.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” he proposed with a soft look on his face. Shit. His expression was oozing with concern, with fondness, with… love? It swayed you. Drew out a deep, repressed desire of yours. You drew up the corner of your comforter and scooted over.

“Lay… with me?”

Fuck. Why would I do that? you scolded in your head. I’m such an idiot, I’m so stupid, he would never—

“Of course,” he whispered, laying next to you.

Your head emptied of thoughts. Shisui was laying down next to you. Your roommate. Your friend. Your crush. His warmth and smell encapsulated you. You were drunk on it, your mind hazed. In a moment of what you would call ‘brilliance’ nowadays (but at the time it was more so a moment of ‘idiocy’), you decided to wrap your arms around Shisui and bury your head in his shoulder blades, relishing in the texture of his cotton bed shirt on your face. He laughed lightly, and you could feel the vibration on your cheek.

“You wanna cuddle? Is that going to help you sleep?” Shisui teased. You knew that this is incredibly out of character. But you were delusional from lack of sleep. If Shisui could get you to fall asleep, then you were going to kill two birds with one stone— finally sleep and show your feelings to Shisui Uchiha.

“It’s not. But I figured it would be comfortable.”

This drew another laugh from him. He spun around and you were now laying against his shoulder, the rest of your body flush with Shisui’s. From under you, his arm came and wrapped around your waist. The view of his face was foreign. Up close, he was incredibly handsome. You could see every detail of his lashes, every shadow that wisped around his eyes. It caused your heart to flutter uncontrollably.

“Hmm, comfortable. Laying against me? I might get the wrong idea if you keep saying things like that.”

“No, I think you’ll be getting the right idea.”

“We can talk about this in the morning” he whispered, his other hand reaching up to brush a stray piece of hair from your face and rest palm-down on your cheek. His scent washed over you. You were positive he could feel your heart racing there.

“But I think I know how to help you sleep. Only for one night, but getting one night of normal rest might help you get back into the rhythm,” Shisui spoke gently to you, his black eyes meeting your own in the dim light of your room.

“And what would that be?” you questioned, voice slurring with exhaustion. You could barely focus on anything but how beautiful his eyes were.

“I can put you under a genjutsu. It will put you to sleep without fail.”

“Really?” you asked, elated. In an instant, you were nuzzled into his shoulder, arms wrapped around his lithe frame. “Can you at least stay here with me? After I fall asleep?”

“Yes,” Shisui laughed. “I can stay here. Now look into my eyes, okay?”

You obliged without question, the thought of cuddling with Shisui all night and finally getting a night of rest overwhelming you. His eyes focused on yours. So softly, so lovingly. You gazed right back with a similar expression. Red filled your gaze. Shisui’s Sharingan. The tomoe spun slowly, hypnotically. You were enraptured. Shisui hugged you against him tightly but ever so gently. His scent comforted you. His legs wrapped around your own. You were safe. You were secure. You were protected. And your eyelids, heavy with sleep, closed. Shisui finally bestowed upon you true, blissful sleep.

#naruto #naruto x reader #naruto fanfiction #uchiha shisui x reader #uchiha shisui #one shot #im in my shisui era don't disturb me im getting enrichment time in my enclosure

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masterwords · 2 months

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Yo! I love reading these, you’re putting in the MOST.

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ?

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare? (You know I’m eagerly still awaiting that nightmare fic, so I’ll have this as an appetizer)

26. What are their vices? (Specifically in their relationship)

Can’t wait to hear your thoughts !!

Heyyy, I'm happy to put the hotchgan vibes out there! A lot of my regulars have moved on to other fandoms or are taking much needed breaks from these spaces so it's feeling very lonely out here. I need the hotchgan like I need air. lol Thank you for indulging me! And always being there to shove me into a fun story!

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’?

Man, I could really see it going both ways but god...just imagine it's Hotch. They haven't said I love you yet. There are plenty of things he does that just piss Derek off (and rightly so)...things that they're ready to go to blows over, even. And Hotch makes a decision that Derek doesn't like and finally, in a moment of pure desperation, Derek just says "WHY?!" and Hotch without even thinking says "Because I love you" and that's it. There's no more argument. Because what can Derek say to that? Mr. Repressed just verbal vomited in the sweetest most pathetic way.

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?

Okay. That fic needs to happen ASAP. I'll work on it tonight with a glass of wine and see if I can make it happen. I really love it, but my writing has been trash lately. BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT IT. Derek is hands on, he's going to try and soothe Hotch. He's going to hold him or run his hands through his hair, he's going to be physical as long as Hotch wants it. (And he does. I think we've established that this man is touch-starved.) Hotch on the other hand, he's more of an acts of service kind of guy. He's going to ask Derek if he wants to talk about it, he's going to get him a glass of water or a snack or ask if he wants to talk. I don't want to get too much more into detail because I'll dip into the story I'm writing for you. I will say, the direction I took is unexpected I think...which is why I'm struggling. I can't just fall into my usual comfort zone. And that's a good thing but harder to write when words are a challenge.

26. What are their vices? (Specifically in their relationship)

Ohhhh...I love vices. LOVE THEM. First of all, they're both so similar so one thing I think they both do is try to be in control at first. I can see Derek thinking he's helping, Hotch has to be in control at work so much that he feels like he's helping if he plans the date night or takes charge of weekend plans. And it isn't that Hotch minds that, he's totally fine with it, but if they both think the same thing? If they both try to plan the weekend without talking to the other? Things can get a little hairy. Lots of mixed up plans, rescheduling, apologies after hotly debated pros and cons for each plan and a big calendar posted on the freezer to help keep them on the same page.

Now, as far as different vices - I think Hotch is an over planner and Derek is very spontaneous, which can cause some friction. Vacations especially could be problematic. At home, I think that Hotch is a little messy and Derek is a bit of a neat freak (though their cars may tell a different story). Hotch is reserved and doesn't speak up when he's sick or hurt or might need to talk, which drives Derek insane. Hotch will suffer in silence until his insomnia kicks in, until he's awake all night, until Derek notices that he hasn't come to bed. "Do you need to talk?" he'll ask when he smells the coffee at 4am. Meanwhile, Derek takes his frustrations out on household projects instead of talking, so Hotch has to find out that Derek is struggling by coming home to the kitchen sink being ripped apart because of an irritating little drip. "Did you have a bad day?" Hotch asks as Derek rips the p-trap out from under the sink...the p-trap that has nothing to do with the little washer that needed replacing in the faucet to stop the drip...because he's moved on to a clog or something else now.

Communication is not a strong suit for either of them, which is a hilarious thing to say about a couple of FBI Agents with law degrees. LOL At work they're masterful, but with one another? Well...it's a learning curve. But the kissing is good and everything else can take its time, they have their whole lives to figure it out.

want me to talk about hotchgan? i will...at length...and hey, if you don't vibe with those questions, ask some of your own. i'll talk about them all day.

#otp asks #hotchgan

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thesmollestsnek · 1 year

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I’ve seen a lot of fics n headcanons where Dick Grayson has adhd, and I see you. But also. Consider: Tim Drake having (undiagnosed) adhd. As a certified adhd bitch myself, I have A Lot to say about this, so more under the cut.

Before we get into it, just a quick disclaimer: pretty much all of my dc knowledge is from fandom osmosis, so. If you see something that’s ooc or contradicts canon no you didn’t. Now with that out of the way, on to the main event!

Okay, so! First of all, let’s start at the very beginning. That’s right, I’m talking about Tim Drake’s “night photography”! Now I’m not gonna say neurotypical kids don’t get up to some dumb ass shit when left unsupervised for long periods of time, because they absolutely do. But. The complete disregard for the many, many dangers a young child alone in Gotham at night would face is still notable. And he doesn’t just ignore danger - he runs straight at it. That shows an impressive lack of impulse control, and inability to factor future consequences into current decisions, both of which are hallmarks of adhd. Plus, hyperfixation kinda… changes? How you perceive things. So if Tim was hyperfixated on getting the perfect shot whenever a major crime/fight happened near him, he may not have processed that he was danger at all during the part most likely to scare a neurotypical child away.

Next, we have the coffee. Yes, I know the coffee thing is super overblown by the fandom and not really supported by canon but ssshshhhhhh my world my rules Tim drinks lots of coffee. Now, this one’s kinda obvious, but caffeine is a stimulant and surprise surprise so are most adhd meds. I have seen firsthand how ppl with undiagnosed adhd will mainline caffeine as a form of self medication, whether they’re aware of it or not. Some people use soda or energy drinks, but coffee’s also a really popular choice for this kinda thing. So not only is it completely plausible for someone with undiagnosed adhd to self medicate by drinking a shitton of coffee, it’s extremely common.

Next up! We have the insomnia. Which, again, I think might be played up a lot in fic? But this is my world and you’re reading in it, so. Tim’s an insomniac. This is one of the less well known symptoms of adhd, but again I speak from firsthand experience when I say it’s a big one. Insomnia is extremely common among ppl with adhd, for a couple reasons. One is time blindness, which I’ll come back to in the next point. But also? It’s just really hard to turn your brain off. And if a large portion of Tim’s brain space is being devoted to casework, guess what. That inability to turn one’s brain off will manifest as late night case solving blitzes. Not to mention that hyperfixation, again, changes the way you perceive things. When I hyperfixate on something I often lose hours at a time, and bodily needs like hunger, tiredness, the bathroom, etc aren’t just unimportant they straight up don’t register. With the number of times I’ve come out of a hyperfocus to realize that I have a dehydration headache that’s been brewing for at least an hour, or have completely skipped a major meal, or desperately need to pee, I can 100% believe Tim not noticing any sleep deprivation symptoms until he’s finished whatever he was working on. And I, again, speak from experience when I say that if you happen to hyperfixate at something at the wrong time of night you will be staying up way later than is reasonable. Which brings me to my next point of…

Time blindness! My most favoritist thing in the whole wide world! (/sarcasm) This shit can and absolutely will fuck up your ability to be a functioning human if you let it. Having no internal clock causes more problems than the obvious losing track of time. It means your appetite is sporadic at best and you could very easily forget to eat. It means your sleep schedule has a tendency to just disintegrate if you don’t keep on it. It means being completely dependent on external clocks to know how long things are/should be taking, even for stupid shit like cooking food or brushing your teeth. It means that if you don’t set an alarm for something there is a very real possibility that something isn’t happening no matter how much you want or need it to. In short, it completely fucks up your ability to care for yourself without a lot of external regimented support. Now, who does that remind you of? Which member of the batfamily is known for neglecting his own health? I may not read many comics but the sheer number of “Tim Drake subsists solely on coffee and spite” jokes on ao3 and tumblr is very telling.

His brains. Tim is very, very smart. Have you ever heard the phrase “twice exceptional?” It describes Tim Drake to a t. Plus, I’m living proof of how you can be both smart of brain and dumb of ass. This may be more of a “my family who just so happens to consist entirely of twice exceptional adhd dumbasses” thing than something most ppl with adhd experience, but. You can be really smart and incredible at putting together complex plans, both ahead of time and on the fly, and still have. No common sense whatsoever. Which seems to be a lot of Tim’s characterization: incredibly smart while simultaneously being a complete dumbass. So make of that what you will.

And most compellingly? I think it’s funny. This kid is brothers with Dick Grayson and best friends with Bart Allen and especially next to those two people would never expect Tim to be the one with the quote unquote “cant sit still disorder”. Yknow what? Let’s take this a step further. Let’s make Bart autistic. (I don’t know enough about the flash family to say how accurate this is but for the sake of the joke let’s say he is). People see Impulse standing next to Red Robin and they think they know which one is adhd and which is autistic and they are Wrong. Tim n Bart are Completely unaware of this but the rest of their team finds it hilarious. There’s probably at least one running joke about it.

#tim drake has adhd (you can’t) change my mind #btw I don’t mention it here but my version of batman is 1000000% autistic #I’d offer to give headcanons on which batfamily members I think are which flavors of neurodivergent but.#I’m not NEARLY as familiar with any of the other things I headcanon them as #also none of the other headcanons are quite as solid as this one #I think Bruce n maybe Jason are autistic. Damian’s def got Something going on but idk if I care to put a name to it #dick most definitely has some cptsd but also? I think there’s a portion of ‘weird’ things he does that aren’t from anything specific #he’s just Like That #there’s most definitely some more stuff floating around in the family I highly doubt any of them is 100% neurotypical #I just can’t be bothered to figure out who’s most likely to have what and why lol #maybe some of my other nerdy neurodivergent peeps can chime in with their thoughts?#and just to reiterate:#all of my dc knowledge is from fandom osmosis and that’s how i like it #headcanons #dc headcanons #tim drake #tim drake headcanon #red robin #dc red robin #red robin headcanon #adhd #adhd tim drake #adhd red robin #neurodivergent tim drake

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damatris · 7 months

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I was tagged by @fieldofclover!

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.

First fic you ever published there: Born of Familiarity

I ended up hyperfixating on The Witcher (all versions tbh, it's got so many cakes. And it's still having me in its grip.) in 2019 when Netflix released the 1st season. In spring 2020 I was painting a portrait of Geralt and the sentence "To Geralt Jaskier registered as quiet." popped up in my head and didn't leave me alone until I started unveiling the reason. And then I ended up writing the thoughts down in fic format, writing prose for the first time in like 8 years and fic in maybe 14 years? The overwhelming positive reception only fed into the rediscovering of how much fun writing prose is (had been doing only comic scripting) and I continued writing more fics. That one also ended up being the 1st fic of the series that's my main focus.

Last fic you published: Flying High, Falling Low (Latest update was on Winter Winds and Snowmelt though)

I'll be talking about both fics later on.

Any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once: Ouija Phone

It's a very slightly longer than a drabble crack fic for The Umbrella Academy. I just thought it'd be funny. It's also the only fic that's not for The Witcher on ao3.

Your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works: Winter Winds and Snowmelt

Will talk about it later.

Fic you wish more people read: I Get To Watch You Grow Up Now

This one is purely book based fic involving Dandelion and Essi. It's a short snapshot of their almost familial relationship. I personally like how it turned out despite not much happening.

Tbh, I'm not surprised at all that this particular fic has far less interaction than my other ones since it's not geraskier or has any other ship either. Plus Essi is only in a single one shot in the book series so she's not so well known character.

Fic you agonized over the most: Flying High, Falling Low

Decided to go with this instead of any long fic because the amount of agonizing versus word count is higher despite having written a bulletin point fic a couple of years ago which I used as an outline.

This one was for the Disability Pride Month Challenge in a discord group and I decided to use bipolar disorder. Which is what I have so I ended up using A Lot of personal experiences and that was both difficult and freeing. It's not the 1st time I've put them on paper or even leaned into fics but this time there wasn't much redressing some of the symptoms into different things/reasons and creating distance that way.

It's kinda surprising how very, very few fics there are with bipolar Jaskier since a lot of his canon behavior fits it. But from what I've observed, people tend to give him adhd if he's written neurodivergent. I wonder if it's because of adhd is better known or if it's because of the stigma still clinging to bipolar disorder (...most likely because of a combination...).

Fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort: There's Harshness In Your Voice And Softness In Your Hands

This is a funny and lighthearted one with concussed Jaskier. It was so much fun writing him being a bit loopy and saying only parts of his thoughts out loud to Geralt's exasperation. Plus, I got to write a whole silly ditty for it that I posted as a 2nd chapter. The whole fic was written wayyy past midnight during an insomnia spell which absolutely lent itself for Jaskier's thought process. It's also my most popular fic by a pretty large margin when looking at kudos, however I don't consider it as such. (That would go to Biting Snake Isn't Better Than Knife In Your Back due to the comments and bookmarks. Sorry for sneaking in a fic not asked for)

A work you are proud of—for whatever reason: Winter Winds and Snowmelt

Winter Winds... Gosh, I have so many feelings about this fic (And Biting Snake too which is the immediate prequel). I'm really happy with the way I managed to treat serious topics about mental health, recovery from trauma, and building healthy relationships both romantic and platonic. It's not a perfect representation but the way multiple readers have told me how much they see themselves/in general identify with what the characters are going through and how it has brought them comfort makes me feel like I've done a good job. Not to mention that people have loved the slow healing and found each chapter interesting is so so great to hear. Especially since Winter Winds is the longest fic by a large margin in the Geraskier tag on AO3. Which I still find absolutely wild! I have no idea how it's currently a bit over 472k words.

Also, I'm so very proud about the fact that I'm currently writing the last chapter of it. It's been a long ride, both with time and word count. I started it in fall 2020 so it's going to be slightly less than a 3 year project. And I'm almost finished. I'm actually having so many feelings about finishing that the last chapter is a very slow writing as I'm also letting go of the fic and all the emotions I've gone through while writing it. Although, the series it's part of isn't even close to finished so I don't have to say goodbye to these particular versions of the characters.

Uhh.. I never know who to tag but @dapandapod maybe you want to talk about your fics...!

#iida rambles #the Witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #the Witcher fanfic #Witcher #adventures with writing

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cleanwhiteroom-archived · 1 year

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Hi, mate! Thanks to this account I now know that Cwr and Elementals had new works (if I can say that about September 2022). I read DCWT and I exploded in the street a few minutes ago after reading one of ur post about new texts. Can you help me to know in what order I need to read all the new stuff and where I can read/listen them? Is only Pacific Rim related or there is some other fandom and/or new original world?

@umbra-life HI SORRY hello! Yes! Welcome! I do need to update my pinned post one of these days - today is sadly not that day because it is 1am but rest assured I will be fixing it soon!

If you kept up with CWR’s work in Pacific Rim prior to 2015 or so, then you probably read Designations Congruent With Things, Out of Many Scattered Things, and the one shots such as Like The Twist of a Plot. If you’re looking for new CWR shenanigans in the Pacific Rim Universe since 2020 or so, the big New Addition is called Aftermath and it is gorgeous 🥹 You can download/read Aftermath on CWR’s blog here! If you want to reread everything in the Designations universe, I’d probably suggest just going in release order: DCWT, OOMST, Aftermath, and then the one-shots. The first three are all on CWR’s site for download, and I have a doc of the one-shots I saved in The Before Times here. As for audio- Elementals released a recording for DCWT Ch 20 and Ch21! No official word on whether we’ll get the rest, but their website does say audio for Aftermath is coming so fingies and toes are crossed 😇

The OTHER new stuff CWR has been/is currently releasing is all in the Stargate universe - before writing in Pacific Rim, CWR originally started a triptych of Stargate fics: Force Over Distance (complete), Mathèmatique (WiP) and Ad Noctum (WiP). In the last few years, CWR has begun to rewrite FoD, and rework/add on to Maths and AdNo. 🥹 Likewise, Elementals has also been releasing new audio for these updated/new chapters, available on their website - AND the newest update this weekend is Elementals is maybe now allowing us access to in-progress audio 😱 go look at their site for details. It’s ridic.

Figuring out the order to read the Triptych is both straightforward and complicated - you should read FoD first, and then can read Maths and AdNo in any order after that… but should someone reading FoD for the first time start with the original complete FoD first and then the new WiP version of FoD for instance? Or just jump straight to the new versions? I wish I knew for certain pal - my gut though says start with the new versions on CWR’s website and if you’re fascinated and want to take the time to compare to the OGs then I have copies of them in my google drive for your perusal! That’s just me though - Anyone else out there have an opinion on whether newcomers to CWR’s Stargate triptych should read the originals first or start afresh?

Tangentially related to the DCWT side of the ask……… This ask actually sent me down a bit of a rabbit hole. And that rabbit hole is ‘what order do all the chapters of CWR’s Pacific Rim tale ACTUALLY take place in?’ And while part of me worries that reading them in chronological order would fundamentally mess with CWR’s intent (why do I get fractal vibes from stories within stories, drilling down and expanding on smaller and smaller sections? I could be reading into things…) I couldn’t help myself. And turns out untangling their order is mostly sort-of possible so I maybe put that list together below for anyone brave enough to attempt it lmao. Take the order with a grain of salt as some of these like The Twist of a Plot could maybe take place later or sooner than I’ve put them but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’m running this post so what can ya do ya know?

CWR’s Pacific Rim media in Chronological Order, for funsies and for insomnia:

Epistolary Empiricism & Science Charm (OOMST) - In Medias Res (One Shots) - Aftermath 2015 Ch5 & Ch11 - Kingmaker & Lady Stardust (OOMST) - first 1/4 of The Blue Guitar (OOMST) - Aftermath 2015 Ch21, Ch26, Ch31, Aftermath 2017 Ch4, Ch10, Ch17, Ch34, Ch40, Ch46 - the rest of The Blue Guitar & The Crystal Lake (OOMST) - Aftermath 2020 Ch8, Ch12, Ch19, Ch24, Ch29 - Geneva 2020 (OOMST) - Aftermath 2020 Ch33, Ch43 - Failing the Solo Trial & Things Exactly As They Are (OOMST).

(Pacific Rim Film)

DCWT Ch1-9 - Aftermath 2025 Ch2, DCWT Ch10, Read Receipt (One shots) - Aftermath 2025 Ch15, DCWT Ch11-22, Under Pressure(One Shots), DCWT Ch23, Double De-Clutch (One shots) - DCWT Ch 24 - Ch28, Aftermath 2025 Ch25 & Ch48, Like the Twist of a Plot (One Shots), Aftermath 2027 Ch23, Ch27, Ch30, Ch35, Ch38, Ch42, Ch45, Aftermath 2028 Ch3, CH7, Ch16, Ch22, Ch37, Ch41, Ch49, Aftermath 2030 Ch1, Ch6, Ch9, Ch14, Ch2, Ch28, Ch32, Ch39, Ch44, Aftermath 2035 Ch50

Will I ever take the time to read these in order? Only time will tell, but researching all day sure made it feel like I already did 🙃

#asked and answered #updates!#cleanwhiteroom #elementals #DCWT #Aftermath #OOMST #force over distance #mathématique #ad noctum #okay it is finally time for sleep

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bendingwind · 9 months

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I was thinking about this instead of sleeping last night (yay lifelong insomnia), and I still don't think I'm going to put this story on AO3, but I think tumblr can have this little story about Rangiku as long as y'all suffer through me talking about it first. I don't know if anyone will want to actually read it, but if I'm gonna keep talking about it I ought to make it available to read somewhere 😅

So because it's important, we'll start with the rating and the warnings above the cut, so anybody can avoid this if they want/need to. Please heed the warnings, I am not fucking around with them. Dead Dove Do Not Eat etc.

Rating: Hard Mature Warnings: Underage (at least physically) pregnancy, unplanned pregnancy, extremely unwanted pregnancy, lack of access to healthcare, child abandonment, a brief mention at the beginning of child/infant death, some tokophobia, one mention of potential child harm Pairings: Gin/Rangiku, though Gin isn't really in this story much, and it is primarily a story about Rangiku

This story has been sitting in my brain since I was in my late teens or so, and it's one of my most vivid memories from my first round with the Bleach fandom *mumble mumble* years ago. I had one fic in particular, ✨creatively named✨ Secrets of the Seireitei, which I found in my google drive of saved old Microsoft word docs. It was a series of drabbles I wrote about different characters in the Seireitei, and one idea in particular was repeated across three different stories; this idea I'd had as a teenager that Toushiro was Gin and Rangiku's kid that they'd had to abandon in the Seireitei because of Circumstances.

So I guess it's not surprising that the first thing I chose to write when I decided to start writing Bleach fanfiction again was the core of this particular story. It doesn't fit with canon, doesn't really even make sense with what we know (and I'm not sure it did then) and it's very sad and very dark. Gin and Rangiku are physically probably 14-16 when this story takes place, though because of how time works in the Soul Society they're older by years than that.

Rangiku is one of my favorite Bleach characters. I also fully believe her not only capable of this but likely to do it, especially in her younger years, but your mileage may vary and that's okay!

I think if this story had been possible and if it were real, Rangiku wouldn't have made the connection with Toushiro when he arrived at the Seireitei and assumes her kid is out there somewhere just doing his thing. Gin realizes immediately upon meeting Toushiro (Toushiro's reitsu signature is very distinct and similar to Rangiku's in my mind?) and it's one of the rare occasions he loses his composure because he previously had no idea he even had a kid. Toushiro figures it out much, much later (like, post-canon) after Momo says something that makes him start thinking, but never says a word to anyone about it. ANYWAY. The story:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

chances & choices

Births are rare in Rukongai. Babies not so much--all sorts of things can go wrong in childbirth and early life in the world of the living, after all--but births? Those are rare. It takes the kind of spiritual energy you usually only see in the clans to conceive at all.

Rangiku is six years old when she dies, and she has spent the majority of her life in the world of the dead, eking a meager living off the streets of the Rukongai. Even once she met Gin, even once they became Gin-and-Ran, too young and too old all at once, times had been lean until Gin had gone and gotten himself made a Shinigami a decade past.

All this to say, Rangiku could hardly be blamed for taking so long to realize what was going on.

****

It starts with more hunger than usual, a ravenous appetite like she’s never experienced before, more than even the money Gin brings on his rare visits can support. She takes up more odd jobs than usual, waitressing in a cafe in the nicer part of District 3, where she lives now, and she manages to make ends meet.

Then there are the dizzy spells that make her spill a tray or five, and lose her the job at the cafe. She’s put on weight, eating so much food, and she thinks she will just have to remember how to be hungry and count on the extra weight to see her through until Gin’s next visit.

She grows weary and listless, loses more than one other job when she’s caught napping when she’s supposed to be working. Still she doesn’t understand what’s happening to her. She thinks that, most likely, she’s finally dying.

Nobody ever explained to a Rukongai brat how babies are made, or what a pregnancy looked like in the world of the dead. No one ever saw the need.

****

If Rangiku ever saw a pregnant woman in life, the memory has faded, and she feels only mild annoyance as she gains weight, as her belly expands and her breasts grow even larger, because really they were a bit much to begin with. She has been eating an awful lot, after all.

Gin visits.

He is just as confused as her.

The day after her visit, the old woman she lives with stops her as she begins to leave for her new job at a fruit stand.

“I thought for sure you would tell him,” Obāsan says.

“Tell him what?” Rangiku asks curiously.

“About the baby,” Obāsan says, with what seems like great patience. “I understand you haven’t wanted to say anything to me before, but I won’t kick you out.”

Confused, Rangiku looks over to where the little girl Obāsan adopted is sleeping. She’s been here even longer than Rangiku had the money to pay for bed and board. She’s not sure why it would change anything, and regardless, she would hardly call Obāsan’s ward a baby.

Obāsan reaches out and places a hand on Rangiku’s arm.

“When you’re ready to talk, Rangiku, I’m ready to listen,” Obāsan says with a pat, and then she turns away.

Rangiku is puzzled all the way to work, and then she’s too busy hustling up customers and counting change to worry about it. The fruit stand is more popular than ever these days--the old man who runs it calls her his lucky charm.

****

“You really ought to at least see a midwife,” Obāsan says at last, and Rangiku looks at her, puzzled by the unfamiliar word.

“What’s a midwife?” she asks.

This time, Obāsan’s gaze is flat and assessing.

“Rangiku… I haven’t wanted to pry, but I am beginning to wonder now… do you even know you’re pregnant?”

The meaning of that word doesn’t register either, not immediately. It’s strange and unfamiliar, alienated from the vocabulary of the Rukongai.

“I’m what,” she says when at least she remembers what it means.

“My goodness,” Obāsan says, clucking gently, but her eyes are a little wide, “what did you think was happening, dear?”

Rangiku’s stomach sloshes nervously, and she feels dizzy.

“I think,” Obāsan says with a deep frown, “that we had better have a discussion, Rangiku.”

****

A baby.

The thought had never even occurred to Rangiku before. Rukongai brats didn’t have babies, they ignored babies lying on the side of the road. The kinder natured ones might offer a simple prayer that someone from one of the better districts was looking for a baby and might stumble across the poor soul.

Obāsan summons a midwife, who inspects the size of Rangiku’s belly and shakes her head.

“I don’t know, really,” she says at last, “I’d say she’s six months or so along, but I don’t really know how these things go over here. I didn’t think people had babies after they died.”

“The nobles do,” Obāsan clucks.

“I thought they just sort of picked the most powerful baby they could find in the districts,” the midwife says, shrugging. “Well, the more you know, I suppose. Do you think that she’ll give birth the same way a living woman would, or is it different?”

“How should I know?” Obāsan asks, a little scandalized.

Not for the first time, Rangiku is afraid.

****

She understands that the little fish in her stomach is the baby, now, moving, and that someday it’ll be born.

It feels like a death sentence.

Babies are a burden, out in the border districts. They eat and they bring nothing in. Obāsan says she’ll be able to feed the baby milk instead of food for a while, but even so--

Gin’s visits are irregular at best. When she comes home from work, exhausted and sore, and senses him at Obāsan’s house, she turns and walks away.

She’s only marginally surprised when he doesn’t follow. Her reiatsu feels different, strange, these days.

****

How will she support a baby, anyway?

They need a lot of attention, according to Obāsan, and Rangiku needs to work to bring in money, especially if she’s going to keep avoiding Gin. Gin is… Gin is Gin. She’s not sure how he would react to a baby.

She’s not sure he wouldn’t simply kill it rather than let it be a burden on her.

She hasn’t been able to work lately. She’s too tired, too dizzy, too big, and anyway it’s the middle of winter. The fruit stand only has a handful of early yuzu for sale.

“I think it will be soon,” the midwife says with a puzzled frown, on one of her visits.

Obāsan clucks.

“Do you think we could find out more about it if we approached one of the noble clans? Surely they know…”

“They’d kick us to the curb,” the midwife says, shaking her head.

****

Rangiku is no closer to a solution when her reiatsu and her belly begin seizing with the contractions Obāsan had warned her would come. She still has no idea what she will do when she pushes a crying baby out of her own young body, sobbing, and the midwife sets him on her ample chest.

****

Obāsan was right. The baby needs a lot. He wakes her constantly at night demanding to be fed, drinks the milk that her breasts have begun to produce, and Obāsan clucks and wonders if it’s normal for spirit babies to feel hunger or not. Obāsan herself has never experienced hunger since her death.

Rangiku doesn’t think it matters much whether it’s normal or not, only that he is hungry. She curls up around him on her futon, strokes his soft head and hums a song to him, one she learned before she died. She doesn’t remember where.

“You look tired, dearest,” Obāsan says one day, frowning at the shadows under Rangiku’s eyes. “I wish your young man would at least come around to help you.”

Rangiku lied, months ago, and said she wrote him a letter. She’s never said anything at all.

****

The baby doesn’t sleep, either. He cries at all hours of the night and wakes Obasan’s ward, who often cries as well, for all that she looks as if she’d been four or five in the world of the living. Rangiku is tired to her bones from the sound of children crying. It makes her want to tear her ears off her head.

Obāsan catches sight of her one of these nights, while she’s trying to soothe the baby back to sleep and Obāsan is comforting the little girl.

“Rangiku, perhaps you ought to go visit a friend for a few days. Get a few nights rest,” she says. Rangiku looks sharply down at where the baby is feeding from her breast.

“I’ll buy some goat's milk down at the market. It’ll be fine for a day or two,” Obāsan says. Rangiku shouldn’t, she thinks, but she does. The girls she stayed with when she was working at a sake bar in District 8 are only too happy to have her visit for a few days.

She sleeps through everything but meals on her visit, instead of going out drinking as they had planned, and her friend Kiku only laughs and waves her hand.

“I still can’t believe you have a baby, Rangiku-chan,” she flutters.

Rangiku wants to know if Kiku would like to trade.

****

She’s never done so much laundry in her life. As beautiful as her baby is, all he seems to be able to do is shit and pee and eat and cry. Gin visits, and Rangiku waylays him outside the house.

“What’s with all those little things?” he asks curiously, eyeing the drying lines.

“Obāsan’s adopted a baby. Let’s go find somewhere quiet,” she lies, and Gin grins wider and agrees.

****

“You really need to name him, dearest,” Obāsan says, one morning in the third month of the baby’s life.

“Hm,” Rangiku says noncommittally. She has never loved anything as much as this tiny soul with his shock of white hair, like his father. She has never been so afraid of anything as this tiny soul with his pretty, wide-open eyes. She has never hated anything quite so much as the thin sound of his wail.

Obāsan sighs, and begins to bustle around the stove.

“Obāsan, I’ve been thinking,” Rangiku says. “Gin will be visiting soon. I’m going to go to the Seireitei with him, and become a Shinigami.”

Obāsan pauses in her movements.

“And your son?” she asks.

“I’ll keep sending you money,” Rangiku says vaguely. She can’t bring herself to ask, not outright, not like this. A chubby hand grabs at the short strands of her golden hair. “Just as soon as I’m through the Academy.”

“Gin won’t send money any more, and he’s a seated officer. Your pay will be less,” Obāsan says cooly.

“I’ll make him,” Rangiku says, “I’ll say I owe back-rent. I’m strong, we both know I am. I’ll be seated soon enough, myself. I’ll… I’ll be a Lieutenant!”

Obāsan scoffs in a way that shows she’s entirely unconvinced.

“Please,” Rangiku says, feeling tears well in her eyes. She grips one of her baby’s chubby hands in her own. “I don’t know how to be a mother. I can’t do this.”

“You’ll have to learn,” Obāsan says, sounding angry now. And then, softer, “I’ll help you, Rangiku-chan, don’t be afraid.”

****

But in the morning, Rangiku is gone.

#z.text #fanfiction #untagged because this doesn't need to breach containment

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thelittleredheadedmusician · 7 months

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Tagged by @radioactivepigeons Thanks Pigeon!

(Personal note: all my fics are currently locked to ao3 users only to help prevent ai scraping. If you do not currently have an ao3 account and would like one send me an ask and I can send you an invite.)

First Fic: Oh certainly something silly I wrote as a gift for a friend back in middle school. It was a patrol report from Batgirl. First thing that made it to ao3? The Beginning of the Flock which still gets the odd hit, kudos, or comment much to my delight as I feel like my writing has improved quite a bit since then.

Most recent fic: At Least They're Only Losing Money one of 3 fics written thanks to insomnia, the end of series/seasons, and a penchant for grumpy Brits with a smoking problem and/or Key Narrative Foil. Also, painfully insightful look at the fact that I really like crossovers and only write for certain fandoms under those conditions.

Fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship once: See above re: crossovers, this being my only Lockwood & Co. fic & like all my Magnus Archives fics it's a crossover, though I'm still delighted by the response it got. They Just Let Anyone Walk In involves some "real" ghost stories and a personal favorite trope of modern teens with inexplicable swords.

Favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship you wrote the most for: I'm going to count the DC fandom at large rather than the smaller sub-fandoms. Negative Effects of Habits is like the fic that launched a thousand plot bunnies. I adored playing with Mia's moxie, John's kindness, and their combined snark. So much so, I just kept writing their unlikely friendship.

Fic I wish more people read: This one is easy: glitter and gold my love letter to the dcu, its families, and the way the characters all connect in little or large ways and care for each other. I spent a lot of time on it and purposefully used minimal tags as to not clog things up but as a result I know it didn't reach very far. But I love it and I worked hard to try and get it just right so I hope those who do come across it enjoy it.

Fic I agonized over the most: There's two options for this, it's a tossup. Both were wips for the longest time and one took a tonal and stylistic turn in the middle as a result. Can We Get a Refill? a modern au Les Mis diner fic featuring idiots in crush, Romantic investigations, and just a touch of magic. The other is Donna Troy and the Outlaws a pre52 story of Kory, Roy, and Jason being brought together by Donna to try and claw herself out of a dark place and save some kids who never should've died in the first place.

Fic that sprang fully formed without effort: A lot. So many. Most. But I remember listening to this song and just writing this fic as it played in the library. Solider, Poet, King is a pretty good character study for being borderline stream of consciousness. The fact the song got REALLY popular on socials about a year later is kinda hilarious too.

Work I'm most proud of: five phones on the table is a little experimental and something I was worried about how it would turn out but I'm really happy and, well proud, of it. I think it's fitting that it's the Fab Five too, as the Teen Titans are what got me into fandom in the first place.

I really don't know who to tag for this so if you see this and write fic consider yourself tagged! I want to know what I should add to my reading list.

#personal #my fic #dc comics #les mis #newsies

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distortedclouds · 1 year

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So, I've been wanting to say this for a while now xD (read: months and months).

You may (or may not) have wondered why someone (me lol) has been interacting with you so much on Tumblr all of a sudden, but there's a reason for it.

I've been a long time reader of all the work you've written, but you've never seen me in your AO3 comment section. I also never turned up in your dash here. It's been almost two years that I've been going through crippling depression and the usual other shitty things life throws at us for fun - and I had no energy or will to reopen any of my social media, nor login into my AO3 acc. I love nights but some were so dark and scary that I had severe bouts of insomnia. What did keep me sane however, was your writing. The first work I read was "I'm begging for you to take my hand" and I still remember how much comfort it brought me. Even your crack fics, you meant for them to be crack but I was restless to read them every night after awful days. More recently ofc, BW, ah god, I have so much to say, but that's for the comment section ofc.

In short, thank you so much for all your hard work and serious effort. For me when I look back on the last 1.5 years, I think of lots of unpleasant things but also, the good things and one of them is definitely your AO3 treasure trove. A light at the end of the tunnel for me. A warm blanket that tells me things will be okay. Always will be.

So thank you once again. Everything you've written (and continue to do so) brings me so much happiness and inspiration. Things are so much better for me these days and a big part of why I began to write again is because of you. I'm just waiting for my free time so I can spam you on AO3 haha xD So happy to see you on my dash too!

(ah none of this is sensitive or private info btw haha xD Feel free to post publicly. Everyone should know how beautiful your writing is!)

I've read this message like, half a dozen times already and I still don't know what so say. I know our time on Tumblr is relatively short, but it's always nice to see you on my dashboard, especially after reading your aruani fics and I'm honored to know that I inspired you to write

I'm sorry to hear about the hardships you were going through. Times like that feel like they could go on forever and that there's no light at the end of the tunnel. As much as I'd like to say "it be like that sometimes" I genuinely understand since both reading and writing fanfiction for the past 8ish years has been really healing for me, and I'm glad my work was of help for you. Especially with how feel about night, it can be the most devastating when something that we loved turns against us and becomes a place of fear and anxiety

On a more specific note, learning that "I'm begging for you to take my hand" meant so much to you is kind of making me reconsider and view it in a new light. It was my least favorite and everytime I'd get a Kudos on it and I'd internally scream 'nooooo not this one!! go to my other stuff!!' But yeah, it's already being elevated in my brains as I type this

I think in online fandoms we stress so much that fanfic is 100% self indulgent and that we write only for ourselves but choose to share with other. and while I wholly agree with that viewpoint, but I also think writing (which includes fanfic) is also meant to move others and elicit emotions in them, and I'm truly happy I could provide the same joy and comfort your fics provided for me

I look forward to reading your future works for as long as you're happy to create them and I'm honored to learn that you're anticipating more of mine <3

I promise I'll get around to updating BW soon!!

#ask #moonspirit #personal #writing

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trademarkblue · 9 months

Note

Hey, fair warning that this will be a bit long 🥺🥺

First, I wanted to answer your question about anon asks. I like sending anon messages because I have terrible shyness/anxiety that I’ve had since elementary, and even though I’m 26yrs old I still feel like I’m bothering people with asking questions. Not that you have ever given that type of response, it’s just what I’ve always had to deal with growing up. Also, I feel like it helps me talk to others without worrying about being such a fangirl 😆. Although, I understand that not everyone likes having anon messages because there’s a lot of rude people in the world and it’s truly awful when somebody tries to bring others down while using anon.

Also, I just wanted to say that no matter how many months pass, I always think of 7 Years, 6 Months 4 Days.

It’s my all time favorite and sometimes I can picture the scenes in my mind without having to pull up the story, since I’ve read it so many times. I love the way you wrote that story and it truly crushed me when Hermione went home and heard Ron’s voice from the deluminator. but she didn’t think it was real (since she was drinking).

Also, the way the patronus was sent to Ron during his capture, it truly brought me to tears. It was like they both had a way to keep the other alive when they thought that it wasn’t worth living anymore.

That glimmer of hope was exactly what I think of each and every day when I’m having a bad day. Sometimes I feel like nothing is going my way but then I remember that I can reread this amazing story and your amazing writing gets me distracted from my self doubts. It’s like I can focus entirely on the story and know that everything will work out at the end. I can’t thank you enough for writing this story.

You were one of the first Romione fanfic writers that I’ve ever had the pleasure of being able to read your fics. If I’m honest I was never a HP fan but I heard about the series when I was growing up. It wasn’t until Covid happened, and also the time in which I got a divorce, that I discovered the HP series. So I needed something to get my mind clear from sinking further into depression. Insomnia started to take a toll on me (I’d only sleep for three hours) and it was a bad place for me. So, one day I saw a fanfic rec on Pinterest of Romione and I was like alright let’s check it out. Let me tell you that it was your stories that managed to capture my heart and soul. Truly. There are no words in how much I enjoy reading your works.

I can’t thank you enough for unknowingly helping me out with my depression and helping me get my own “ball of light” moment. If it wasn’t for the Pinterest Rec of Top Romione Angst fics, then I don’t know how I’d manage my days/nights.

Sorry for being a fangirl 🥺🥺 but I hope you know how much I love and appreciate all your hard work that you’ve put in for writing. Please don’t let anyone second guess your writing because you’ve made an impact on me for the rest of my life. No matter how many years pass by I will always remember the moment I fell in love with your writing.

❤️

I love your stories🥺 and I hope you have a good sleep ❤️

Okay, so like… I cried reading this last night.

Omg. This is the most touching, sweet, humbling & kind message I’ve ever seen. What an incredible thing to take the time to write out and say. 🥹

I’m overwhelmed. Truly. So pleased to know my writing has meant so much to you and that it got you through some tough times. You are amazing!

Fandom has gotten me through a lot of hard times too, and being able to connect with communities like this really means the world, especially when people are so welcoming, genuine, and kind. I appreciate you too, more than you know! 🫂

And on the subject of anons, I love that it has made you feel less shy about reaching out. Please never doubt that I love receiving anons and communicating through asks about any topic. If you ever want to chat (on or off anon!), I hope I’m pretty non-threatening, and I’m always here for you! ♥️

#fanfiction #anons #speechless

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pleckthaniel · 2 years

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On Mission To Zyxx

I think I heard the first ad for this show on some other Maximum Fun podcast (probably MBMBAM?) in mid-winter, 2021. I had just finished catching up with Dungeons and Daddies. Since I was then jobless, mostly friendless, living with my parents, trying desperately to suppress my gender confusion, and very severely depressed, I was burning through podcasts like crazy and desperately needed something else to listen to. (I was both using them as a remedy for my insomnia and something to do during the often 8+ hours per day I would literally just lay in bed or on the couch.) I had a very vague inkling of wanting to get back into sci-fi, which I’d always loved as a kid, and I was getting slightly burned out on Warriors fic, having recently posted two extraordinarily long one-shots and being very deep in the brambles with Brighter Fires.

Around March, I put on the first episode of Zyxx. I remember not liking it a ton, actually, but deciding to give it a second chance. When the next episode made me burst out laughing at 3 in the morning - genuinely smiling for the first time in what felt like ages - I knew I was going to keep listening.

It took me like.. a couple weeks to listen to the whole show, and then I immediately started relistening, and then again. It felt a little bit magical to be so happily obsessed with something when I felt so stuck, so alone, and so utterly directionless. As I recall, I was literally just finishing up my 3rd or 4th relisten when I noticed something new in the feed - the first episode of season 5. As soon as I finished it, I opened up my laptop - this was like, 5 in the morning - and started writing what would eventually become the first draft for both and if it’s not tonight and Tomorrow might be good for something.

At some point I also pretty much imprinted on Pleck like a baby duckling, for which Ray teased me endlessly, calling me a kinnie - they were more right than they knew, I think. This show does some really interesting things with gender, including multiple nonbinary lead characters, and even Pleck, ostensibly the cishet everyman, has his moments. I was also taking a gender-focused sociology class at the time and it set me off thinking a lot about masculinity and my own relationship to it. The thing is that Pleck is constantly de-masculinized on the show, but never or rarely in a way where he’s accused of girlishness or femininity. I was kinda jealous? It certainly set off more complicated feelings. Some part of that felt more attainable to me than traditional manhood and masculinity. Some part of it felt more difficult.

So yeah, if you wanted to be glib, I may have projected onto a fictional podcast character so hard that I accidentally transed my gender.

There’s a lot else I could talk about - how listening to the show did, in fact, rekindle my love of science fiction and caused me to read some of my favorite books, how the show’s approach to Pleck’s mental illness legitimately helped me deal with my own Brain Problems more than once, how I’ve met fantastic people and experienced some genuinely just straight-up extremely fun times thanks to this tiny little fandom. But beyond providing me with so much joy, beyond providing me with a lot of the help I needed to pull me back to shore in a tough time, this show has had an undeniably positive long-term impact on my identity and the course of my life, and for that I will never be able to put all my gratitude into words.

#scout talks #mission to zyxx #pleck decksetter mission to zyxx my beloved #none gender left beef #personal #you can reblog lol it's not that personal i just want it to show up in that tag #bc i put a lot of Mentol Illness related stuff in there

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heartlessfujoshi · 1 year

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Hi! :3 I'm so happy to see you back on Tumblr, and that you're taking requests! You're one of the first fic authors I engaged with way back when and I always enjoyed talking to you and reading your works.

Can you please do first snow + Promnis, if interested? :>

I hope you have a really nice holiday and that life is treating you well 💚

Hi!!! <3 Oh my gosh, thank you. It's good to be back. Feels like a bit of normal is returning to my daily life, which is good. And of course I can do that for you!! I hope you'll like what I came up with for it.

Winter Prompts - First Snowfall

Title: Reconnecting Fandom: FFXV Pairing: Promnis (Prompto Argentum x Ignis Scientia) Rating: General (Feels & Fluff, Minor Angst, Post-Ep Ignis V2) Word Count: ~2,055

Summary: With the rebuilding happening in Insomnia, Prompto returns to feeling like an outsider. Ignis is there to remind him that he's more than that.

---

Prompto stares out his window, the paperwork he’s neglecting still sitting right in front of him on his desk. In the background, he can hear heavy machinery being used, as well as the sound of a jackhammer breaking apart debris. A constant barrage of auditory mayhem. It’s a sound he’s become accustomed to since taking residence in the Citadel after the ten long years of darkness. They’re slowly getting the city to the grandeur it had been at prior to Niflheim’s assault on the capital. The sounds of the machines working are like a dulcet tone in his ears - progress is progress.

A soft knock on his door turns his attention back to his desk, an almost guilty look on his face appears. He knows that knock. He’s heard it for the last ten years - always a tiny, gentle knock that happens three times. Three times in quick succession. The knock brings a smile to his face, as it seems old habits die hard. “You don’t have to knock, Iggy. You know you’re always welcome in my office.”

The door slowly opens, and shows his friend’s face - the small scars around his eyes making them look greener in the limited light in Prompto’s office. “It is decorum to knock, Prompto. I’ve told you as such so many times.”

“I guess we’ll always be at an impasse, then.” Prompto pushes his chair back, and walks over to Ignis. He wants to throw his arms around him and hug him, but things have been a bit strained since they’d successfully taken Ardyn down. Gone were the days of friendly touches, hugs, and the like. “How’re you? What brings you here?”

“His Majesty is wondering if you've finished the report.” The expression on Ignis’ face is unreadable, at best. He doesn’t look at Prompto when he speaks, nor does he look in his direction now. “Is it finished?”

A nervous laugh leaves Prompto’s mouth. “Ah, ha, no. I’m still working on it. Does he need it right now?” Prompto looks at the piece of paper that’s mocking him. “I can go and see him, Iggy. I don’t mind. I could use the exercise.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” Ignis pushes his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose, the scar going across it catching Prompto’s eyes. Really, though - Ignis’ scars are now as much a part of him as the scars on Gladio’s face are. They exist - pure and simple. “I’ll go and let him know. Do try your best and get it finished soon.”

The guilt returns, as Prompto watches Ignis head back towards the door. “I will, Iggy. Hey - thanks for stopping by.”

“It is my job, Prompto.” It’s all that’s said when Ignis leaves his office, closing the door behind him.

He goes and stands at the window, and lets out a deep sigh. Since they’d become part of the King’s task force, things had felt different between all of them. And Prompto doesn’t like it, one bit. He misses being able to joke and have fun, but now with Insomnia needing to be rebuilt, all of that has been taken away from him.

Placing his hand on the window, he sees two men laughing with each other. When had he laughed last? Prompto can’t remember. It had probably been before Noctis had returned - which he doesn’t know is a good thing or bad thing. Pulling his chair out, he sits back down and looks at the report that Noctis wants. He can get through it - but then again, if he doesn’t, maybe that means Ignis will return to his office.

Not wanting to deal with that guilt, he picks up his pen and gets to work.

---

Prompto heads to the elevators, calling it a day. He’d finished the report and sent it over to Noctis, and now is going home. He gets into the elevator, then hears someone call out, “Hold it, please!” Prompto puts his finger on the ‘door open’ button, making sure that the person makes it. The person comes to a halt at the door, then looks at him with a wry smile on their face. “Thank you.”

“No problem, Iggy.” He takes his finger off the button, then steps back to the back of the elevator. “Did Noctis have any issues with my report?”

“None at all.” Ignis shakes his head. “Are you heading home?”

“I am. Are you off on an errand for the King?”

Ignis shakes his head. “I’ve been released for the day. I was told I need to go and have some fun. My attitude isn’t conducive to working in the environment the King wishes to be in currently.”

“That bad, huh?” Prompto reaches for Ignis’ arm, but then stops short as it hasn’t been something they’ve done since returning to Insomnia. While the King had been asleep in the Crystal, the two of them had become closer. Nothing too serious - with both of them worried about Noctis, the two of them kept things platonic. But, as they’d dealt with the world in Darkness, there had been many nights when the two of them had shared a bed together, needing the reassurance from each other that they were on the right path.

As he pulls away, Ignis begins to offer his arm towards him. “You know what kind of mood he gets into.” Ignis comments in a dry, offhanded way. Prompto laughs, taking Ignis’ offered arm. As soon as he does, he feels a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. It feels good to be with Ignis like this again. It feels good to laugh.

“I sure do.” He can’t keep the smile off of his face, the two of them now heading in the direction of Prompto’s apartment. “Are you going to walk me home, Iggy?”

“I thought I might.” Ignis nods his head, then puts his hand over Prompto’s, the warmth of his leather gloves on top of his skin has Prompto biting back an inappropriate noise. “Why aren’t you dressed warmer? It’s freezing, Prompto.”

“It’s not that bad.” Prompto looks up at the sky, then stops walking as he notices something peculiar. “Hey, Iggy? Um, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

Ignis comes to a stop next to him, and tilts his head back. “If you’re asking if I’m seeing snow, the answer is yes.”

“But, it’s never snowed in Insomnia before.” He turns to look at Ignis, who has already turned towards him. “Iggy?”

Undoing the buttons on his coat, Ignis holds the lapels open, and pulls Prompto to be against his chest. He doesn’t fight it - he gloms onto him as Ignis’ coat now covers his back, the two of them standing on the middle of the sidewalk, hugging each other. “The barrier is no longer a factor, Prompto.” He points his head towards the sky. “The Crystal no longer is protecting the city, and as such, the weather is now appropriate to the region.”

“Huh.” Prompto doesn’t want Ignis to explain any further, as snow begins to stick to his head. “Iggy - as great as this is, we should probably get out of the snow.”

His protection against the cold disappears as Ignis steps backwards. “Right. Let’s go.” Ignis grabs his hand, and begins to jog towards Prompto’s building, which is only about a block and a half away.

Prompto laughs as they run, the giddiness coming from out of nowhere. By the time they make it up to his apartment, they’re both wet from the snow sticking to them. He grabs a towel and tosses it to Ignis, then grabs another for himself, and starts to towel dry his hair. “I don’t have a ton of stuff here, Iggy, otherwise I’d offer you something to drink and eat.”

“It’s alright.” Ignis sets his damp towel on the rack to dry, then grabs the towel from Prompto’s hand and begins to help him dry his hair. Prompto stands still - more memories of their time together. Similar stances where they’d helped each other after a turbulent rain in Alstor Slough. Huddling to keep warm as they routinely went to Niflheim to make sure that the enemy wasn’t trying to do anything stupid again. Sun kissed shoulders touching as they sat on the sand, looking out at Angelgard, keeping their eyes on the resting King.

He turns around, and sees there’s a flush on Ignis’ face. “Do you miss it?” He asks, knowing that he doesn’t have to clarify what he means to Ignis.

“Sometimes.” Ignis nods his head, then lifts his hand towards Prompto’s face. He closes his eyes, waits for the touch to happen. He drops his head forward when Ignis’ palm touches his left cheek, emitting a soft sigh. “Everything changed when the King returned.”

“I know.” Prompto mumbles quietly, his stomach beginning to churn in an unpleasant manner. “You should probably go home, Iggy.”

The hand on his face remains, then Prompto feels Ignis’ other hand touch the nape of his neck, drawing his head to look up. “Do you want me to leave?”

“You know the answer.”

Ignis’ head comes closer to his, and then he feels the weight of his head pressing against his forehead. “I’m sorry, Prompto. I know this isn’t easy for any of us.”

“You seem to be handling the changes pretty well.”

It’s clear by how he speaks that he’s letting his bitterness show. He doesn’t know how either Ignis, or Gladio, manages to handle these changes with no complaint. He knows he shouldn’t complain either, but he misses his friends. He feels like an outsider, when he knows it shouldn’t be like this.

Ignis’ thumb rubs his cheek with careful, slow caresses. “I’m going to do something that I should have done a long time ago, Prompto. Forgive me for taking so long.”

“What do you mean, Iggy?”

But the answer never comes, as Ignis’ lips touch his own with a tender kiss. Prompto gasps, then sinks into the kiss, Ignis’ arms now wrapping themselves around his body, holding him close. He parts his lips, then feels Ignis’ tongue sweep into his mouth, the touch of his tongue against his own sending sparks throughout his entire body. Prompto waits for Ignis to end the kiss, then takes a few deep breaths. But once those are done, Ignis’ lips are crushing over his, Prompto’s back now pressed up against the bathroom sink as Ignis takes full control of the kiss, his knees and body weak from the kisses.

This time, Ignis ends the kiss and returns his forehead to his own. “I’ll ask you again. Do you want me to leave?” Ignis’ voice is slightly breathless.

“I want you to stay. Stay with me, Iggy.”

“I will.”

They leave the bathroom and go into Prompto’s living room, where they sit down on the couch, and look out the window at the falling snow. It’s going to be cold tonight, and it will no doubt stick to the ground and will make tomorrow another cold day. But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters right now is that Ignis has his arms around him, the two of them are cuddling on the couch, sharing kisses every few minutes. Ten years of making up for lost time. But, there’s no reason to rush either.

Later that night, Prompto rests his head against Ignis’ naked shoulder, exhausted from the activities they’ve just partaken in, his hair damp with sweat. “Why now?” He asks.

“Because I was afraid I had waited too long.” Ignis’ lips brush against his forehead, as Prompto heaves a content sigh. “I didn’t, did I?”

“No. Because I would have waited forever.” Prompto admits. “I’m glad I didn’t have to.”

“I’m glad you didn’t either.”

He shares another kiss with him, then returns his head to Ignis’ shoulder. The snow is still falling, but Prompto is as warm as he can be. Warm from the blankets, the heat in the room, and the heat that both his and Ignis’ body are generating together. It’s enough heat to make him fall into a deep sleep - the deepest sleep he’s had since returning to Insomnia. Where things will go from here, he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care. Because right now, everything is perfect and right in the world.

xXx

Cross-posted to AO3

#promnis #my writing #fanfic #drabble request #i hope you like what i came up with for you ;A;

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