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#she has no fucking clue who that is but shes just excited to meet people and make friends
Greta: A SPEEDSTER?!?
Greta: I HAVE TO TELL YOU ABOUT ALL THE WACKY HIJINKS BART AND I GOT INTO!!!
Judy: Cool! Okay!
Judy: I have no idea who that is but I'm game!
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diejager · 21 days
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I know your requests are closed at the moment but I just needed to share this thought with someone.
How about sweet and innocent reader who’s dating Johnny and it’s all in love with him, and has no clue that his best friend Simon is utterly obsessed with her?
They meet in the military and started dating right away, before Simon got his claws on her. She’s a sweet little thing that doesn’t belong there but somehow she endures, she bubbly and cheerful, always kind to everyone and Simon can’t take it.
One night the whole TF141 has to stay in a safe house during a mission, they all sleep on the floor and by coincidence (or not), she chooses to sleep between her boyfriend and Simon. Poor sweet thing wears a sleeping mask to sleep so when in the middle of the night some long and rough fingers slip into her pants, she just smiles, tries to swat the hand away but eventually gives in. The thought of fucking in a room full of sleeping people is exciting, and Johnny has always leaned into the dangerous side of things, so it doesn’t even surprise her.
Eventually those touches lead to taking her pants off, pressing her ass into the erection rubbing her backside. She doesn’t even notice the size difference, she just thinks it feels better because of the adrenaline of doing something forbidden. And it isn’t until the last moment, after she’s come like never before that she realises that the man that just filled her up isn’t her boyfriend when he whispers in her ear:
“I knew you would enjoy a real cock filling that sweet cunt of yours”.
XDD the sheer shock and disgust you feel at Simon’s act, followed by a sense of betrayal towards you and him, for betraying the trust your sweet boyfriend had for you both. You stick more and more to Johnny’s side, as far away from Ghost as you can, and you even sleep on the other side now, between Johnny and Kyle. Ghost might not like it and Johnny might be confused at the sudden change, but it makes you more comfortable, so you stick to it.
It does remind me to @shotmrmiller ‘s fic about Ghost simping of Johnny’s girl. I think I mentioned it a few times, now, but it’s good.
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bellewintersroe · 3 months
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Jenson Button x FamousReader!2009
this is like a second part (can be read individually) to THIS. Here’s just some more headcannons of what it would be like when Jenson is in a relationship with a famous British celeb who’s extremely popular, especially amongst the party scene. warnings: mentions of sex, oral sex, nothing too graphic but I just knowww Jenson gets down and dirty. mentions of alcohol and some drug use? not to glamorise it we all know celebs ain’t innocent ok. for this case 18+ 😇
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Jenson is a cutie ok, the more he falls in love with his SO the more he finds himself looking out for her in the garage. Whether this be before or after his race, just imagine his head poking out of his car, or he’s fully suited, helmet still on, glimpsing around trying to find her.
lots of cuddles, he’d keep an arm slung around her, especially if they’re in public where there’s paparazzi- in that case he’s keeping an extra tight grip on her.
despises the paparazzi ok- he’s a polite man, pretty tame, but British press in the 2000s were VILE and for his girlfriend, he can’t stand the idea of them even looking at her.
helps shields her eyes when the flashes are too bright.
Taxis home together at questionable hours of the morning, limbs sprawled over each other and getting caught snogging in the backseats.
drunk sex- especially when he wins the championship, he’s so smug and proud, fucking into her with all his energy, cos he’s world champion baby 😏. lovesss seeing her legs pinned up over his shoulders.
thanks his girl publicly after he wins his championship.
as I mentioned in the part prior to this, Jenson LOVES going on holiday with her, like he’s a bit of a perv when it comes to seeing y/n in a bikini, especially after he’d already seen to many shoots of her before even meeting each other.
never admits to being a fanboy of her but the smirk would say otherwise.
getting down and dirty on a yacht, hidden by a beach towel whilst he fingers her, he has his sunnies on and he’s smirking, pressing kisses to her temple and whispering sweet nothings.
“you’re doing so good aren’t you?” “all these people taking pictures of you and nobody has a clue what we’re doing.” “should put on a show for them, shouldn’t we?”
so mf dirty, his British accent makes it 10x sexier too.
sex in the pool of a yacht, and every single room in there, wants to try everything with her, but he isn’t pushy in the slightest- Jenson wouldn’t ever come close to making her feel uncomfortable.
They’d deffo see pictures released of them both the next day and giggle because nobody would have a clue what was happening under that towel.
can be really soft in sex, like stroking her face, talking her thru it -omfg I need him.
Deffo wants to try like anal, and certain kinks- I feel like she would too, idk when they’re both drunk they’d decide they wanna try something and sometimes it’s an utter fail.
other times it’s just giggly, exciting sex where they’re both eating fucking whipped cream off one another or something.
soft, gentle moans from him, especially when the sex is more passionate, when it’s rougher I feel like he’d be quiet but let out some grunts whenever he’s out of breath or gets really into it.
He’s a sucker when she goes down on him, like he’s a mess omg- if there’s one way to elicit moans from him that’s exactly how and she’s soooo good at it- he makes plenty of public innuendos about this.
I feel like y/n would wear the smallest little mini skirts, like she’s a Y2K queen and befriends lots of other wags at this stage- constantly pictures walking around the paddock looking cool asf.
Deffo a trend setter, but they’re the type of couple in 15 years that the younger generation look at and go ‘they’re together?!?’
as they get older they deffo become more private, but not secretive.
can spot each other in a crowd instantly, when he wins a race you best expect him to practically JUMP onto her, sometimes he forgets he’s bigger than her lmao.
The cameras go CRAZY for this and their faces are printed all over the newspapers.
Quiet, lazy mornings in England, especially when it’s cold out and Jenson finally has time off- the two of them can really appreciate the quiet side of life at home.
makes him want to settle down- but I think he’d be worried at first about bringing a child into the world- they’re having too much fun with each other, but I think they would calm down after a few years.
occasional bickers, maybe they both walk out of a nightclub and she’s storming ahead of him with a face like a slapped arse. Jenson would make a comment and y/n would be pissed that all the onlookers heard.
Y/n and Jenson’s relationship on the rocks?!
bitch the next morning he’s on top of her having the best make up sex ever.
Seriously their stamina is insane so they fuck like rabbits.
I feel like because y/n maybe has grown up in the public eye? Or fame came in her teens, her behaviour can be fairly erratic at times- like especially before Jenson the partying and boozing was out of control, but being a few years older he really settles her down in life.
like not that she’s troubled (I’m not gonna glamorise it but it’s real life) but it can’t be easy dealing with everything and fame at a young age, I feel like Jenson would take care of her at times, like if she gets wayyyy to drunk he wouldn’t lecture her, but he’d deffo have this sad look on his face, clearly he’s worried.
she’s ok tho, especially with him and like I said she settles down and matures a lot with Jenson.
She’d probs smoke weed every now and then and idk if Jenson would like it, especially when he’s so focused on racing, but he tries it once or twice and would probs just fall asleep immediately.
I feel like he’s so cuddly at times, like in the middle of the night he’d just snuggle up to her. So cute. On holiday on sunbeds he’d be so cuddly, grabbing at her and it causes for some really cute paparazzi pictures.
not to glamorise droogz and drinking but them two probably party a lot in the first year together.
Jenson is the type to eye his gf up from the other side of the room, nods her over or something sexy.
hand would start on your shoulder and end up on her ass- so many headlines the next day…
But yeah they’re such a popular, attractive couple, you either want to be with them or want to be them.
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outerbankspov · 11 months
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Hi I was wanting to request a drew x y/n idk why I keep thinking about this so drew is out at a bar or a club or something with the cast and y/n is there with like her own circle of people and has no idea who drew is or what outer banks is and drew sees her and is like absolutely starstruck and needs to get her attention and talk to her and he’s pleasantly surprised to find out she has no idea what his show is and you can make it end with like a steamy makeout or something idk and add whatever you want to make it more interesting but pls and ty you’re writing is so good 🤞😇😇💗
OO PLS I LOVE THIS!!! (Lowkey want to make this a series… should I?)
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- You and your girls made your way into the last booth available at the bar laughing and eating chips with your drinks. “Wait so he refused to eat your food?” One of your friends ask your other friend with a laugh. You look up from your friend and spot this guy, 6’4, blue eyes and beautiful. He flashes his beautiful smile at you and you blush. He was with a lot of people, they all seem pretty close and man do they all look EXPRESSIVE! He starts doing karaoke and singing to you and making a big fool of himself, you found it adorable and smiled wildly. After he’s done he goes to the bar and looks at you again. “I’m gonna get another beer” you excuse yourself and confidently walked beside him and ordered your drink making it known to his ears. “You have an eye for good taste” he smirks. You finally meet his eyes and your heart almost fell apart. “Thank you.” You eye his drink and smiles. “I could say the same, whiskey huh?” The tension was strong already, you can feel it. “Mhm” he nods. “I’m Y/N. And you?” Your say sweetly hoping your voice didn’t sound to high pitch. He stares at you for what seems like hours. He couldn’t believe it, he’s Almost relive that this beautiful women he met at the bar doesn’t know who he is. “I’m Drew Starkey” is all he said. “Drew! I like that name” you lean a little into him and he looks down at your lips. “Do you know me?” He asked and immediately regretted, a really stupid question. She playfully glares at him before taking a sip of her drink. “Never in my life! But I happen to meet a man name Drew here so….” He laughs and leans into her so he’s whispering in her ear. “ you’re hot by the way.” your cheeks immediately flushed and you are glad for the bar lighting. “Anywho. Here’s my number” she kisses the napkin with a red lips stick and folds it, slowly putting it in his front pocket. Biting her lip with bedroom eyes she smiles and hurry’s away to her friends.
A little more later….
“He’s totally checking you out! Go for it!” Lucy one of your best friends tells you with a hint of mystery. What y/n doesn’t know is that Lucy and her friends all know well on who Drew Starkey is and the crew he’s with except y/n herself. It’s not that she’s clueless or anything she just don’t know who he is. “Okay fine. Wish me luck?” You say taking a strong shot of your liquor. You get up and makes her way to the table, very bold move but hey you have liquor in your system. “Drew ?” You say while everyone has their eyes on you with smiles. He turns with a big grin on his face. “Hey you! What’s up?” He stands up and excuses himself from his friends. “I was maybe thinking…” you bite your lip, nervous as hell. “Go on” he demands. “I will love to go on a date with you” he says before you can even spit it out. “I’m more then excited for that!” You say in a low tone. You both just look at one another, he can’t believe you have no clue who he is and it makes him happy. You, you’re just so love stuck by this man. “Do you maybe wanna?” He grabs your hand and pulls you towards the bathroom, pushing you into the stall and locking it. “need your lips on mine now” he mumbles. He pulls you into a kiss and you both moan softly. He licks the bottom of your lips asking for permission and you grant it with a groan as his tongue massage yours. “Fuck” he groans into your mouth. Hands grabbing at anything he can find. “Drew” you say when you hear people enter the bathroom. But he doesn’t let up, he’s so obsessed with you that all he can think about is YOU. “Do you know how happy I am that you came up to me? I’m a chicken shit, was so scared to come up to someone this gorgeous” he mumbles as he takes your boobs in his hands and squeezes them, casing you to let out a soft moan. He bucks his hips forward and apologizes. “Sorry, you just sound so sexy” he laughs. “God Drew, you make me feel so good” he picks you up and leans you against the stall wall, groaning into each others mouth.
“Take me home Drew Starkey” you look him up in the eyes and he almost moaned out loud. “Yes come on” he grabs your hand and you both leave the bar, both looking at their friends with a smile. “Gonna make you mine.” Drew whispers into your ear as you both walk to the car.
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20thcentwriter · 1 month
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Get him back [Michael Gavey x OC]
Chapter One- When Edith Met Michael
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Word count- 1.2k
Cw- swearing
Vaguely proofread
A/n hello everyone, welcome to chapter one of my series. I don't consider myself a great writer but I hope you enjoy this series I have planned. I kinda have no clue what I'm doing really and any tips and tricks would be very helpful. All I know is that I'm excited to discover the relationship between Edith and Michael.
Also apologies for this chapter being kind of short. I just wanted to establish the breakup between Felix and Edith and have her meet Michael. It will get more interesting
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“You’re breaking up with me?!?” Edith can’t believe what she’s hearing
… Well maybe she can a little bit but it doesn’t mean she thought this would really happen.
“Umm…Ed… yeah. You know we’re both going to uni in two weeks.”
“Felix Catton don’t you fucking bullshit me. you and I are both going to Oxford.”
”Okay umm…” Felix brings his hand to rub his chin. “ it’s just that this whole past year I’ve been so great and understanding about your boundaries regarding sex but I thought by now we’d have already done it though. I don't think it’s going to work.”
Through breathy laughter Edith can’t help containing her anger “Wait- So what you’re telling me is that you are done with me because I'm not ready to have sex and you’re horny ?!?!”
“That's pretty much the case, yeah.”
”You know what Felix Catton, I can't believe I thought you would ever be understanding.” Edith starts, heels turning to walk away so he couldn’t see the tears whining to spill. “You fucking suck and fuck you!!!!”
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“What a fucking asshole,” Edith mutters under her breath peering out the window of her room. She shakes her head looking at a completely okay looking Felix Catton chatting and laughing with other popular rich kids who some Edith use to call “friends” .
The term “friends” would frankly be a loose term for Edith because they were more of people she hung out with because she was dating Felix, they weren’t true friends. she’s never exactly had a true friend.
Eddie knows he doesn’t deserve anymore of her feelings towards him but it’s hard. All she wants to do is scream and cry, telling Felix that he’s so pathetic.
Edith knows she can’t, all those other girls would come right after her, saying she’s jealous and desperate. how could he just break her heart and be completely okay? He’s most likely even moved on already.
Taking her eyes off from her ex, Edith flops onto her bed with a groan. All she wishes to do for the rest of the day is sit on her bed and read her book, draw in her sketchbook and maybe play her guitar. She’s aware though that she has to go to the dining hall tonight. Edith hasn’t been able to eat all day as she’s been moving in.
The idea of having to potentially sit near a perfectly fine Felix makes her want to gouge her eyes.
It's also her luck though that she’ll be stuck with some maths loser who forces you to answer sums, showing off how smart they are. If she were to compare the two she would take the maths loser but still not ideal.
Completely done with reality, Edith grabs her ipod, headphones and sketchbook off her nightstand and drowns out the world with music and drawing until she has to leave her room.
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This is just great. I don't have to sit next to Felix but I also can’t find a seat in the first place. Edith can’t help but comment in her head, walking the dining hall in hopes of a spot to sit.
In a way she did luck out but she doesn’t know where to sit. That thankfully for Edith isn’t long lasting as she finds an open seat next to a boy with dirty blonde hair and glasses. Not thinking to whom she might have to converse with, she quickly walks over and sits down desperate to begin eating.
As she's eating, Edith can't help but feel uneasy and like someone to the right is staring into her soul through her ear. She looks up to the right and piercing blue eyes fill her vision. she whispers an awkward hi and smiles at the very strange boy and he in return moves his eyes down to her messenger bag.
Edith’s bag is decorated with little doodles that draws on it when she’s bored. The boy quickly turns his head away from muttering something under his breath that Edith didn’t pick up on but knew couldn’t have been nice.
What an ass.
The feeling of uneasy and bitterness doesn’t die the more she sits next to this guy. It was also not exactly possible to find a new seat either as the only other open seat was across from him and somehow for Edith that would be even worse. She feels bad for whoever would be sitting across from him
Like the universe reading her mind, another boy around her age with dark brown hair and glasses, who after struggling to find a place in the dining, eventually seats himself, somewhat reluctantly. right across from the strange boy.
The two boys stare at each other in silence for a few minutes, the brown-haired boy also clearly uneasy like Edith. it was the other boy who reach his hand out though to the brunet to introduce himself and Edith finally learned this strange boy’s name
”Hi I’m Michael Gavey”
The other boy accepts Michaels outreached hand and Edith learns his name is Oliver Quick. The boy begins to converse with one another. The last thing she got by fully eavesdropping was Michael asking Oliver if he was also a Norman no-mate too.
Not really interested, Edith turns her attention back to her half empty plate. the quicker she finishes the faster she can leave and not have to be in the presence of this Michael Gavey.
Even with half eavesdropping and half ignoring the two. Edith slightly laughs to herself as Michael tells Oliver even though he doesn’t like math, he is some math genius and to ask him a sum. Oliver clearly uncomfortable and telling Michael he’s fine and that he doesn’t need to ask him a sum
Edith though couldn’t expect was was to come out of a now agitated Michael.
“ WELL ASK ME A FUCKING SUM THEN!!!”
Jesus fucking christ Edith curses to herself while the whole dining hall quiets at the sudden intrusion of loudness. Among the same surprise, She is also intrigued and she smirks knowing something that would give her a little happiness asking Michael.
Before Oliver could clear the embarrassment he's feeling at Michael's sudden outburst, Edith interrupts. “What's 34+35?”
The attention of the boys are turned on to Edith as she smiles as Michael answers but then realizing what sum she asked, face turns to annoyance at the question, clearly knowing she is taking the mick out of him.
“Haha, very funny….” Michael’s voice trails waiting for a name
“Edith Pemberton and you said to ask a sum”
“Well Edith Pemberton i don't think I was talking to you Ms.” I'm wasting my money on an vapid arts degree”
“How fuck do you know what I'm learning.”
“Lucky guess based on how you're dressing and your… interestingly designed… bag.”
The gull this guy has to judge after literally yelling at someone to ask him a sum.
“Well Mr “I think math and science is better than the arts” you're wasting your money on a subject you don't really like so guess who's money is really wasted”
“Well at least I'll be making money post grad How about You? Oh wait Probably not.”
“Wow Michael Gavey you deserve a Nobel prize for solving the meaning of life!! Making money!!” sarcasm spilling from Edith’s mouth, not wanting to let this guy win.
Due to the bickering fight Edith and Michael were having, either of them failed to realized Oliver used it as a way to escape the situation
“God you're such a cunt Edith Pemberton.”
“Takes one to know one bitch.” a smirk reappearing on her face as she picks up her now almost empty plate and bag to leave a now bewildered Michael Gavey.
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Taglist- @fan-goddess @iamavailablesstuff @callsignwidow
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Text
Man-Sized
7/9 Shadowplay
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Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!OC
Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).
CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.
Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.
Christmas came and went, and all she knew was that Simon wasn't working. She still didn't know where he lived – whether he had a home in Manchester or if he resided elsewhere. He could live in London for all she knew. He could live down the street, and she wouldn't have a clue about it.
She sent him pictures of her family and the Christmas tree, of the cute pajamas her parents had got her – they still got her cozy sleepwear as a gift, like she was a child. She sent her a photo of herself later with that thing on. Or most of it on, anyway. She even added a few hearts to her texts, knowing he wouldn't return them. Simon was born at a time before emojis were even invented.
She didn't know if he spent the holidays with his family. It was odd to even imagine Simon in a happy, domestic setting, sipping grog or decorating a tree. His father was dead, and he rarely talked about his brother or mother. All the details he had given her of his life were from a pre-military time.
True to his habits, he only sent a short reply on Boxing Day that said: "See you soon."
And she waited. She went back home the next day and sat in her lonely apartment watching historical dramas and eating chocolate until she felt sick, and he never came. She stayed there the day after, didn't leave the house even for the store. On the third day, she started to get anxious, on the fourth, rather angry. No one turned that extra key on the lock of her front door, and she felt like an idiot.
On New Year's Eve, she decided she would get the fuck out. She would not stay at home like a whimpering, lovesick puppy, waiting for its master to come home.
The long-distance relationship was getting on her nerves, and his occasional unavailability didn't feel exciting anymore. It was just vexing. Sometimes it felt like a paranoid exaggeration that he couldn't tell her when they would meet again. She didn't need much: just a fixed date would have sufficed. Her other life was stupidly on hold because she was always on high alert for him. This had been going on for months, and it was high time she did something else. Just for the shits and giggles. To hell with his soon.
So she went to see her friends and drank herself into an impressive stupor.
It wasn't her usual approach to dealing with anxiety and frustration and a yearning heart, and it didn't work as well as she had hoped. But at least she got out of that stupid flat and saw some people who actually had time for her. She had been invited to a party before the holidays with the knowledge that she would not attend – just like she never attended any student shenanigans and was rather curious as to why people kept inviting her.
But right now, an evening full of alcohol and uni people who had normal problems, problems she should've been thinking about too instead of her supersoldier, sounded better than binge-watching Outlander for the fifth day in a row.
And it was actually loads of fun. She decided right then and there, while having her fifth or sixth drink, that she should leave the house more often. Connect a little, get acquainted with new people who did normal shit. Even if they were a bit boring compared to a certain brooding giant who made love to her like she was a goddess.
She laughed so much that night that her stomach hurt, and a few boys from school were really after her at the party, quenching her need for validation and attention just a tiny bit. The whole crew went to see the fireworks to the city, and they all shared some bubbly in the frigid night, and even if she wanted Simon to somehow teleport himself behind her at the turn of the year, to grab her from behind and raise her in the air and whisper something naughty in her ear, the longing wasn't enough to rob all the fun from that night.
When she walked home, feeling a bit wobbly and more than a bit guilty for having flirted with not one but two guys, she reached for the pocket that held the push dagger Simon had given her. It received loving attention every time she walked to school or to the club, the excitement of doing something forbidden soon having turned to a feeling of security and a promise of prowess, all granted by Simon. It was almost like a comfort object, the way it instantly carried her thoughts to him.
Home felt dark and shabby and even more lonely after having a few good laughs with cheerful people her age, who studied the same subject and had big plans for the future. Her plans for the near future were another day alone, but this time, with a hideous hangover. That future felt so dreary that she didn't quite catch the familiar dark shoes in the hallway as she barged in and fought herself out of her heels all but suavely.
She went straight to the bathroom for a late-night shower, and the men's shower gel bottle – the one Simon had brought to her apartment because he didn't want to smell of "girl shampoo" – stared at her like a reminder of what she couldn't have. She then brushed her teeth and went to get a glass of water before crashing into bed.
Even in the dark, she could see a man sitting on her couch as she stepped into the living room that extended to an open kitchen.
She didn't panic this time. Her reaction was a simple, annoyed sigh upon seeing that he was yet again trying to gauge a reaction out of her.
"You really need to stop doing that."
She could see him tilt his head a little at her bitter tone. They had never fought, but right now, feeling emboldened by the booze, she had a feeling that an explosion was about to happen. Returning to a dark home filled with a dark man was such a contrast to the spirited, youthful gang she had spent her evening with that all the laughter left her for a moment.
How long had he even been here? It was nearly 3 AM. She had gone to the party as early as she deemed acceptable, wanting to get some fresh air and fresh vibes as soon as possible. If Simon had come to surprise her in the evening, he had had a long night.
"Where were you?"
The raspy voice was demanding, and she fought back a jolt of irritation just from hearing that dominant tone. It was just a simple question, but it felt like an interrogation.
And she wanted to scream.
Where were you?
How many times have I waited for you to bless me with your presence?
She had been away just this once, and he hadn't called, hadn't sent a text, had chosen to wait here for her to return from her all nighter, and then accused her of not being home.
"At a friend," she said.
"Which one?"
"Marc."
She heard him draw air upon hearing that she had been to some other guy's apartment.
"A new friend," he noted.
"He had a party," she explained, then tested her luck like an idiot. "It was fun. I made lots of new friends."
She turned to get that glass of water and noticed Simon had done her dishes while she was away. There were flowers in a vase on the counter, too. He had wanted to surprise her on New Year's Eve, probably hoped to spend another peaceful evening at home together.
A tiny needle pushed into her heart at the sight of the pink tulips. Simon didn't know it, but they were her favourite flowers. She wondered whether he had been to the club to see if she was there, only to come back when he noticed she wasn't up tonight. If he had sat on that couch as hours passed by, with dread sinking in from the thought that she might be out somewhere, cheating him with another guy. The needle inside her heart burst into flames.
"Where were you?" She whispered. He finally rose and walked to her, much in the same way he had done when she had been upset in this exact same spot when morning light had filled the room.
"Covering my tracks."
She already knew that "covering tracks" meant he took extra precautions before coming to see her, whether there was a real, heightened risk or not. Christmas time might be a heightened risk: those who wanted him harm would probably want to know where he spent his holidays. Who his loved ones were.
It meant that he was devoted to her, an actual sign of care and deep affection. Simon had just made sure he wouldn't set her in danger.
She could feel his warmth behind her, could smell him, and felt distress spike in her chest when he wouldn't proceed to touch her but just stood there. She turned to face him with a quivering lip and wasn't sure whether she was about to burst into tears or a manic giggle.
He was wearing a black hoodie this time, but it didn't quite manage to make him look any more youthful or boyish. But it was snug, almost cute. The size of it probably double or triple XL to accommodate those shoulders and that chest. That hoodie told her he had definitely planned to stay home, cuddling and making love while the tulips slowly opened their blossoms in that vase.
She knew he came here for her softness. He would never admit it, but he craved the softness of her bed, her couch, her body, even the food she made for him with love. He had just wanted to spend the evening filled with some color, laughter, and affection, certainly not go and watch exploding fireworks that would only remind him of war and death and darkness.
Suddenly she felt guilty about getting so worked up. She felt shame for her condition: she was still drunk, like a sailor, wearing nothing but flushed cheeks and a towel.
"Are you angry?" She searched for judgment in his eyes. He watched her sternly, didn't betray any emotion other than that of guardedness.
"Why would I be angry?" He said in a Should I be? kind of way.
"Because I'm drunk?"
She must smell of booze, of a whole pubful of drunkards. Not ladylike at all. He had heard the state in which she had barged in — she had even sung a dirty song in the shower.
She felt like a child compared to him, felt like every guy she had talked to at that party tonight was like a child compared to him. The shyness never quite left her, even if they had known each other for months now.
What if he was angry? Or disappointed?
Or worse yet, disgusted?
"You said you didn't like women who drink."
She certainly wasn't a drinker, even if this night had been a bit rowdy. But trying to explain to a man who disapproved of drinking that she wasn't an alcoholic while smelling of booze was somehow too funny in her sleepy, partied, lovelorn state.
She couldn't hold it in any longer, and a stupid little chortle pushed through her lips. This time, he raised a hand and took hold of her shoulder, as if to ensure she was okay.
"I never said that," he said gently. The brown of his eyes was blown dark, and she vaguely remembered that dilated pupils meant drugs or darkness or love.
"One of the guys wanted to walk me home," she blurted out of nowhere. The alcohol in her system had apparently decided it was quite alright to tease him a bit for taking so long. His head pulled back, a subtle indication that he didn't like what he was hearing.
"Or actually, two. It was funny when they both came to give me my coat when I was leaving."
He was silent, the feeling of being reduced to a flustered child – or a drunken moron – in his presence only increasing by the minute. Either he was genuinely astounded by her behaviour, or then she was really pushing her luck with her drunken babble.
And fuck, she would never get over his eyes. Perfectly almond-shaped and so big that supermodels would kill for them. But it wasn't the warm, dark chocolate or the eternal exhaustion of hooded lids that made them so enticing. It was the look of having walked through hellfire… and having emerged undefeated, with scars and a sardonic, knowing smile. He was like Lucifer cast out from heaven, a fallen dark angel who had been thrown to Hell, who merely shrugged at his fate and then started to rule the whole goddamn place.
She opened the towel and let it drop to the floor, then took a step and wrapped her arms around his neck. He went rigid as she pressed her body flush against him, the amber eyes roaming her face while the rest of him was stiff. It was a new situation, her meeting his solemn stare with bold teasing while making it clear that she wanted him to rut her — on that counter if need be. Or better yet, she wanted to climb onto his lap and ride him, run her nails down his chest and sink them in, perhaps to the point of drawing blood.
It was usually he who ravished her…
"I've been a bad girl," she tried to imitate a seductive voice but it turned into another giggle.
Good God… She wished someone would come and put some duct tape on her mouth.
But then a hand was placed possessively on her hip, a thumb brushed over the side of her stomach. Those eyes were now looking at her much in the same way they always did when she was dancing for him. Hungry and dark. Proud… Pleased.
He had looked at her like that for months and months now. Like he owned her. In a stupefied recognition, she realized he had looked at her that way before they had even shared a word with each other.
He moved in a sharp flash, scooped her in his arms and started to walk toward the bedroom.
"Are you gonna punish me?" She whispered without even bothering to cover the heavy anticipation in her voice. He wouldn't say anything, but when they reached her bed, she was thrown on it. Gently and with care – but it was still more of a flung than setting down.
"It's not really a punishment if I enjoy it, right?" She laughed with excitement, all the remnants of her anger dissolving into a soft buzz that gave a nice edge to the upcoming retribution. "I guess the joke's on you."
He still wouldn't budge, still wouldn't speak…
"Are you sure you're not angry?"
She rose to lean on her elbows and watched him undress with a soldierly sharpness. Under the black hoodie was a black t-shirt — of course. But only now did she notice that he was wearing grey sweatpants. Fucking sweatpants.
Why did he have to be such a kissable, huggable cuddle muffin on this night of all nights? Those sweats were so far from the glitter and glamour she had surrounded herself this evening that she felt another burning sting beneath her sternum. The ample bulge against that soft, grey cotton was visible even in the darkness.
The muscles bunched as he pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the floor. She would probably never tire of seeing those shoulders, not to talk of his divine forearms that were so different from the skinny little things she usually saw at school or even at the club she danced in. Even she had more muscle in her forearms due to pole dancing than some men – but Simon… God, he was an absolute specimen. And with that tattoo slapped on that bulky, veined muscle, she could verily fall on her knees and pray to this man.
Her earlier teasing felt stupid as hell. She wasn't interested in anyone else than him walking her home. That ship had long since sailed.
And how could anyone compare to him? Those boys she had talked to would shit themselves if they saw Simon, even without his gear. Would turn tail and run seeing him in those cozy sweats, even. She wanted to explain herself even if the cleverest thing would be to just shut up.
"Marc's just a friend from school. He was in this group project and then we started to talk about our plans for the New Year, and then I figured I should go to this party because I never go anywhere, you know, and -...mh."
His pants were off, all of them, and she could see his cock spring free, already hard, like he always was when she was lying down like this and he was about to descend upon her. The night swallowed most of him, but it wasn't enough to hide those forearms, that hungry, slightly amused glint in his eyes – or that heavy, obscenely thick erection that was jutting from between his equally massive thighs. It was veined like his forearms, surrounded by the palest, faint hair, similar to the almost invisible ones that coated his chest and back here and there. Everything in him was heavy and thick, except that pale breath of hair…
Her mouth shot full of water, and rich heat pooled between her thighs, which instinctively clamped together as if knowing that this man was too big for her, even if evidence already proved otherwise. He always told her how tight she was, but she felt like it was more the cause of his size than any asset of hers.
"I thought it would be good to connect with people because you never know, right?" Her mouth kept yapping on while her eyes were glued to his massiveness. All of it.
He crawled to the bed between her legs, which opened by themselves for him as if this man was a whole VIP pass that granted access to the exclusive area of her.
"If you wanted to know where I am, you could've just called me. You never tell me where you are or when you come back. You know, "soon" could mean anything."
She expected him to insert himself to her opening, to push in with a full-blown ego because he must already know she was wet from just seeing him, the bastard. But instead, he dove face first to her folds while sweeping her thighs over his shoulders like they weighed nothing.
"But I get it, you need to–"
A pair of hot lips surrounded by a peak stubble hit her skin, and her head fell back with a moan. Her thighs drifted even further apart as his tongue traveled up her slit, parting the swollen lips with so much love that she knew he definitely wasn't angry with her.
Oh no.
She had only managed to amuse him again.
And of course she had. Her intoxicated state and desperate attempts to make him jealous must've told him that she was a bit of a mess because of him. He wasn't petty, even if he was possessive. It was crystal clear to everyone in this room that she had just tried to distract herself, and she was featherbrained if she thought she could fool him.
"I was mad at you," she confessed with a sigh. "I still am…"
She peeked a look down. The sight of a brawny, wide man on his knees between her legs made her more heady than all the punch she had had that night. The bulk of muscle on his back made her legs look sleek and slender and weak, the coarse stubble against her delicate, swollen folds made her head spin even when she was lying on her back. The faint scent of tobacco and his musk were like incense to her; she inhaled it like it was her only way to heaven, that haze of blazing masculinity, of fire and smoke that was thoroughly him enveloping her as she fell back on the mattress.
Her hand found his hair; it was cut shorter from the sides, but the top had generous amounts to grab hold of, and she curled her fingers there while pushing her cunt against him. She was tired of pretending that it didn't feel fucking best when he gave her head.
An exceptionally hungry kiss echoed through her body, making her spine arch and her legs slide up and down his back. How could it feel like he was kissing her instead of fucking her with his mouth? She had taken Simon as a man who didn't worship women like this, but like always, she had been wrong. Even the very thought of a commanding officer of some super special tactical unit having his face buried between her legs was enough to send her to the verge of orgasm. Not to talk of seeing and feeling him actually there.
She sighed as his hands drew her against his face by the thighs, then gasped as a firm, thick tongue – thick like the rest of him – thrust inside her.
"God… yes, just like that…"
If she was pulling his hair a little too hard, he didn't mind. Or at least he didn't say or do anything about it. At first, she had thought that perhaps he tried to make her shut her mouth this way. Speak with moans and sighs instead of words. But now she felt like she was his prisoner, about to make the confession of a lifetime.
"It drives me crazy, the waiting… I'm always waiting for you." It was a miserable sob, and she was arriving at the center, the numb, veiled core of this whole conundrum.
"You drive me crazy, Simon."
He let her monologue go on. If anything, he encouraged it with his tongue, with his lips that nibbed her swollen bud and sucked.
"You're so annoying." She felt him huff a brief chuckle against her, inside her even, as she was open and dripping and hurting, wholly at his mercy. "Like, no one comes even close. And, and, I…"
The darkness made it seem that she could spill any secret in such a lightless, safe cavity where there was suddenly no time, no past and no future to make her pay for what came out of her mouth next.
"...I love you."
But the laws of cause and effect still applied to this world, and Simon stopped, breathing into her pussy like a long-distance runner.
"What?"
His first words since forever hit her folds with a husky, tentative roughness. That voice was better than any dark rum or gooey chocolate cake or even a hot tub bubbling with maple sugar bath bomb. The heated knot in her stomach coiled and twisted, her eyes were brimming with tears.
"...Nothing."
He breathed into her tender folds, she could feel his lips draw into a smile. He kissed her right at the center, at the core of her, and she jerked a little, bit her lip, and waited.
"You sure?" The gruff, murky voice still talked to her pussy, like it was there where the confession of his prisoner was to be found.
"Yes..?"
A devastatingly languid lick stroked her folds, and the starved sigh was that of a happy, happy man. He had a winning hand, and he knew it.
"Are you absolutely positive?"
She swallowed, her lips trembled, and her heart rammed against her chest as her drunkard's brain thought of the terrible fate that awaited her if she yielded to him. What if they were still playing? She hated poker, especially when she was playing against Simon who always had a royal flush in his hand. She wanted to play together, not against each other.
"For fuck's sake, why do you always have to…" she started, then bit her lip again as he plunged his tongue inside, so deep that it made her chin shoot up toward the ceiling and her hips grind against his face.
"You always have to win," she sighed strenuously, on the brink of tears.
"Love you too," he rumbled against her, and her walls clenched around nothing, more moisture leaked to coat his chin.
"Wh-...What?"
He picked up where he had left, proceeding to kiss and lick and suck like it was just some small talk they had briefly shared while he was eating her out.
"Simon…"
"Shh."
She pursed her lips from happiness and allowed him to finish the job, which didn't take long in her state of bliss and drunken overstimulation. She came with a cry, leaked love in the air – leaked literally, on his lips.
He rose to sit after he was done, panting like it had been a while since he had tortured anyone like that.
"What took you so long?" She asked when he threw himself to lie on his back next to her.
"What took you so long?" He huffed, and she wasn't sure if they were talking about their mutual absence or the late confession. She turned to press against him, thrumming with love. He shifted too and took her in his arms, and her head was shoved against the plates of muscle that made his chest. He was still hard, and she wanted to take him in her mouth, to return the favor tenfold.
"You're so annoying," she chirped with a broad smile while crushed against the world's safest chest.
"Copy that."
"I love you."
His cock twitched between them when she said those words. It was his only reaction to her repeating that long-kept secret.
"You're drunk," he commented with sleepy, honeyed amusement.
"I'm drunk, and I love you."
He sighed and pulled her into an even heavier hug. "Come 'ere."
They cuddled sometimes, mostly after sex, but it was never this ardent. She ran a hand up and down his back while the other was squeezed somewhere between them. She could hear his heartbeat, steady and powerful underneath her cheek.
"Don't send me pictures of your family," he grumbled through half-sleep. "It's an unnecessary risk."
He had rigged her phone with schizophrenic detail so that their calls and messages couldn't be traced. He had even built a sort of a Faraday's cage out of a shoebox, wired mesh, aluminum foil and whatnot, where he put his phone when he came to her place. She didn't even know all the things he did to ensure no one knew about their relationship. Safety measures weren't doubled, they were tripled with Simon.
She gathered the photos she sent of herself were a weakness for him since he never forbade her from sending them. She didn't know if they got destroyed right after, though, or what kind of a headache it was for him to get rid of all the metadata.
"Whatever you say," she murmured while pressed flush against him. His erection wouldn't die, and in her opinion it was unfair, downright sinful, to leave him in such a state after he had given her so much love. She raised her leg and swept it up the side of his thigh until it came to rest on his hip so she could rub against him.
"You need to sleep," he said, but didn't stop her. He even allowed her some space to snake a hand between them to grab him and guide the tip to her folds, still soaked from his treatment. The notion that he prioritized her rest over his own pleasure only made her more wet. He responded with a shallow, hoarse exhale as she helped his cock against her slickness, coating it with moisture.
"You love me?" She was a lovesick puppy now, and he grunted at her neediness.
"How many times do I have to say it?"
"You only said it once."
"Once is enough."
She glided along his length with slick, moist sounds filling the darkness pulsating with love.
"No it's not."
"Insatiable woman," he muttered, slightly out of breath from what she was doing to him. And as if he had only now noticed that she was handling him and not the other way around, he switched their roles and rolled partially on top of her.
"Could you just say it?" She watched him with what must've looked like the most desperate, needy stare she had ever worn. He simply seized his cock and adjusted it to her entrance.
"Pretty please?" She whispered while he pushed in, only halfway, knowing she was more than ready to take him fully. She even grabbed his ass to force him, but he refused her.
He always had to win… Always.
"I love it when you beg."
The voice was harsh, rugged, but his eyes were soft, even softer than the double bed under her.
"I love your cunt," he continued, and a moan slipped from her as he teased her with a few shallow, unhurried thrusts. "Love the sounds you make when I fuck you hard."
"Mh-..."
"...or gentle. Fuck you real slow and deep. I know you like that."
He finally went completely in, finally gave her that sweet satisfaction that came from being filled. It felt so snug, so gratifying that it could only be compared to having a piece of your favourite cake after a shitty day or taking the first sip of coffee in the morning or easing into a hot jacuzzi when you were cold.
"I love it when you say you're a bad girl when you're the swee'est girl there is."
That one ended in a short, mocking laughter. As if she was absolutely shitty at trying to deceive him in anything.
He continued to tell her everything except the thing she wanted to hear. He told her he loved her bedhead, her cooking, the look of concentration when she was curled somewhere to read a book. He told her he loved her laugh, her sharp tongue, and how adorable she was when she was mad at him. The list went on and on, it even had the time when she had slapped him, on it. She was just about to plead again, beg for it if she must, when he finally relented.
"Yeah, sweetheart… I love you," he whispered in her neck with a burnt voice, burnt from tobacco or barking commands. "Should be bloody fuckin' obvious by now."
She dug her nails into his back, not worrying about the consequences, which were only delightful. The coarse stubble chafed her neck as he kissed and sucked her skin, surely leaving marks.
She was so wet for him that she was creaming around his shaft. Big as he was, he glided inside her with no effort at all, even when she felt herself tighten around him with another upcoming release. She was going to come a second time, a rarity, even with Simon.
He pressed her against the mattress with every thrust, the feeling of being crushed between the plush, soft bed and a bruisingly hard body absolutely glorious. Feeling weightless and completely open, she came while clinging to him, knowing it would send him on another ego trip for having worked her to a climax twice already.
The sound that left her, more like a helpless wail than a satisfied moan, meant she had lost all her chips in a bet against someone who had invented the whole game. Her cries painted the darkness as she throbbed and clenched around his cock like it was the sweetest thing in the world.
"Now what did I say? Insatiable." His voice turned into a wined and dined tone when he was pleased, almost braggingly so, and she wanted to dig her nails in his back again and make him grunt instead. But that voice also caressed her, much like his hips that gently rocked her through the waves of the orgasm.
He came shortly after, through gritted teeth and a feral edge to his peak. Her neck was burning from all the love it was getting, but the last roll of his hips was almost lazy, and he collapsed on top of her, trapping her under a blazing hot chest. A palm slid along the dip and swell of her waist, caressed the side of her thigh, and pulled her leg to rest on his back while he remained buried deep inside her. He turned from a savage, heated man into an affectionate lover so quickly that she could only hang onto him as best she could.
His back had broken into a sweat, but when he eventually pulled out, he didn't roll to the side like he usually did. Instead, he shifted to lay his head on her chest, and clutched her in a sideways hug, slack against the bed and partly on her. The ragged breathing was interrupted by an uneasy swallow.
"Life was easy before you came along. Didn't have to worry about gettin' killed."
More confessions were spoken in the fading night, and she raised a hand to stroke his hair. The light had slightly changed, the wintry night was easing into a break of dawn while they were finally about to get some sleep.
"Guess I have to stay alive now."
Only Simon could make something like that sound romantic, but his tone was somber, as if he was letting an essential part of himself go when he chose life and her. She wondered if she had brought Simon back to life like he had brought her. It wasn't what they had planned for themselves, but here they were: spent and alive, meshed together at the dawn of a new year.
"You're spooking me to death as it is. I don't want to know how you would be like as an actual ghost." She tried to lighten the mood that was slipping into something darker, something she didn't wish to think about after a night like this. But Simon had chosen to make her cry.
"Would haunt you still."
She couldn't say anything from the bittersweet pain that spread through her heart. It was hard to breathe when a choked sigh clawed at her throat and tears threatened to cause a whole flood.
"Did you like the flowers I got you?"
…And just like that, he changed the subject. She blinked back tears and tightened her hold of him, so snugly settled there over her heart.
"I love tulips. Thank you," she whispered in the crown of his head.
"Hm."
He was already on the verge of slipping into sleep, like men used to after a good fuck, especially when already exhausted from work. Or from loneliness. She hugged him so tight she could feel the flare of his ribs as his breath slowly evened out. She caressed his hair, the back of his neck, stroked his back and felt him rumble softly against her.
"Not your pet..."
His last note was more of a weary sigh that turned into soft snoring as he fell asleep on her chest. She was not far behind, drifting off to sleep too while cradling him — precisely like a pet, or a child, her last thought being how oddly beautiful it was that he finally allowed her to hold him like this.
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performativezippers · 27 days
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I've been writing fic for a bit more than ten years now; most of which (eight? nine?) as a pantser. At most I'd make a timeline, for a complicated timey-wimey, wibbly-wobbly fic, but other than that, I just daydreamed the story and then wrote it down 😅
Then in the last couple of years, I tried to learn more about the craft of writing. I never had any training in school or uni, never any class or anything; I did work with a writing coach for a while two years back, and read a lot of advice. I've started to plan stories out more, to be more intentional about what I write -
But I have now run into a problem that I heard pantsers describe, which is that when they plan out the story till the end, they feel like it's done, and the impetus to write it just drops away.
I think I'm still right in the middle of finding my writing approach, which - on the one hand, exciting! I'm learning more about myself, that's always good! But on the other hand, I'm sad about the projects I was working on that I have somehow run out of steam on. I do have other projects that I still am excited to write, but I'm a bit worried I might lose interest in them too as I try to find the right balance between planning and pantsing.
IIRC you are a pantser, right? Any advice on how to not get ahead of myself when I approach a new story? How to keep pace between the dreaming-up of the story, and the writing-it-down?
OMG this is the question!! I am absolutely a proud member of pantser nation, yes, and I'll tell you what works for me, but I do honestly think this is something that (sadly) each person has to figure out for themselves via trial and error.
Terminology for those who don't know:
Pantser: someone who writes by the "seat of their pants," aka no outline, no real clue what happens next. The joy is in the journey!
Plotter: someone who plots everything out before hand, like by outlining or using scene cards or something. The joy is in knowing the journey before you start!
Most people are somewhere in the middle, or vary project by project. There are lots of names for it, like plantser or "headlight method" or whatever, but basically you can think of it as the Kinsey scale, with 1 being solely pantser, 2 as leaning pantser, 3 as equally both, 4 as leaning plotter, and 5 as solely plotter.
I'm a 1.5 I'd say, the 0.5 being from having to learn story beats in order to sell original fiction to traditional publishers, which means things like "the breakup should happen around 80% of the way through" and "inciting incident at 0 or 10%." If that doesn't make sense to anyone reading, don't worry, it doesn't need to! (But if you have questions about story beats, feel free to ask!)
As a true pantser, I typically know the following things before I start. I'll give an example from a long fic I've written and for a book that none of you have read because it hasn't gotten bought yet (SADFACE).
I know the characters and some basic facts about them and their relationship pre-story:
Back to the basket: Alex is a closeted college basketball coach who washed out of the WNBA (life based on Adia Barnes). Maggie is an assistant coach who used to fuck Alex in secret during college and is hella gay.
Original romcom: Libby is great at making friends. Sasha is a serial monogamist. They are both "straight."
Setting and meeting:
Back to the basket: Maggie joins Alex's coaching staff. The fic will last the entire college season (~6 months)
Original romcom: Libby and Sasha meet on a dating reality show. The book will encompass the first 6 weeks of the show.
Primary conflict:
Back to the basket: Alex wants to focus on work because she's A Big Failure. Maggie wants to date. They have undeniable chemistry and horniness.
Original romcom: Classic "straight" friends to gay lovers problems, made worse by the reality show setting.
Ending:
Back to the basket: We get really far in the tournament and Alex and Maggie get their happily ever after
Original romcom: Libby declares her love at the Ceremony, Sasha declares it back after some mental buffering, and they get their happily ever after.
Once I know those things, I'm pretty much good to go. For some books I know the midpoint (I knew the midpoint of my forthcoming novel before I started writing it) but for most projects, including fics, I don't know it until I've written my way there. In these examples, there was a clear time boundary (6 months, 6 weeks), which I find very helpful. When co-writing with the incredible @roadien60, we've put time boundaries on our fics together to help us keep the story tight, compelling, and contained (I mean LOL, Missives is literally almost 80k, but just imagine how bad it would have been if we hadn't been counting down to the eclipse!)
While pantsing, I really try to let the scenes shape themselves, to let the characters simmer when they need to and move forward when they don't. I don't let the characters do whatever they want, because those wants might not make for a compelling narrative or be what I want to write, but I try to let things flow naturally from one event/emotional beat to the next.
This method requires revision, sure, but revising is easier than forcing yourself to draft something that simply won't come, and that's what matters.
I try to be very very careful about NOT thinking ahead. I don't even let myself daydream the things I'm planning to write. I'll think about the next chapter between writing sessions, but never further than that, because if I've so much as thought about it, some of the joy is spoiled. I'll think of great dialogue in my head, and then forget it, and no matter what I write down on the page later, I'll always think it's worse than the first thing I dreamed up in the shower, and that's a kind of regret I don't have space for in my brain.
And the consequences are real! The only fic I took 5+ years to finish, Splice World, is the only one I plotted out all the way. I had to wait until I had forgotten what I plotted to be able to finish it, and even then it was a bit lackluster.
So I guess after all of this word vomit, my questions back to you are:
What was going wrong when you pantsed? What specific problem are you trying to solve for? Sometimes people try to start plotting because they think being a pantser is less "good" or sophisticated or something, to which I say, fuck them!
When plotting, at what level of advance detail do you get bored? If you know the ending, the next chapter, five chapters in the future, etc? Maybe you can find a happy middle there, where you can think a few chapters ahead but not the whole thingy.
How much do you daydream/think about the story without writing it? If it's a lot, trying doing it very little or none and all, and see if that helps!
LET ME KNOW!!
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Doctor Who, but Chronologically 30
Okay OKAY so we have just watched the Christmas Armistice of 1914, but now we move on to one of my favourite episodes of ALL TIME. In fact, full disclosure, this is one of my favourite TV episodes of anything ever. This is one of my go-to options for comfort TV. If I’m ill and sad and cwtched up on the sofa, this is in the Emergency Elanor First Aid Kit. I love it. I love it so much that I will not be quoting any of it, because if I do, I will be posting the whole script. You cannot imagine the extent to which I had to sit on my hands so I wouldn’t do a full episode review accidentally.
It is 1926, my friends, and this is the Unicorn and the Wasp.
Tennant and Donna are back!!!! DREAM TEAM. We haven’t seen them since they were running around Pompei in episode one, my lord that was a while back now. And Jesus, what a return to quality. The companions have been failing the Sexy Lamp Test for so long. The only break was Martha in the Human Nature two-parter, and that was an emotional wringer. But here!!! Donna!!! You could NEVER replace her with a sexy lamp. She is 1000% the co-protagonist. She and Tennant are best friends and they love each other intensely and platonically and they travel through time and SOLVE CRIME while being, at all moments and seconds of every single scene, two halves of a whole idiot, and it is joyful and wonderful and amazing.
Okay okay so
They land in a country manor in England, a part expertly played by Llansannor Court in Wales if I’m not much mistaken, and the interiors are 1000% Tredegar House because I know my Welsh country manors. The Doctor and Donna get ludicrously excited about going to a garden party in 1926, all giggly. They even go and get dressed up, by which I mean Donna does – she exits the TARDIS and gives a twirl.
“What do you think?” she teases. “Flapper, or slapper?”
“Flapper, definitely,” the Doctor beams. “You look lovely.”
… I am having violent flashbacks to Capaldi calling Clara ugly.
Anyway they meet Agatha Christie in time for an honest-to-god murder mystery. It’s fucking phenomenal. It’s silly and camp and the murderer is a giant wasp, except in true Agatha Christie style, there’s a complicated twist involving a secret pregnancy, an expensive gem, the hot young woman (played by her from Rogue One) actually being an accomplished jewel thief impersonating a socialite, and a prodigal reverend. One of these people is the aforementioned giant wasp, except the joyful sci-fi plot is really running around a playground with a balloon and giggling, so it has been primed to kill people in libraries with lead piping like a Cluedo game.
I literally cannot list every moment I love. It’s just too many. So I shall try to name check some top moments:
“MAIDEN”
“It was a good once”
“I am Inspector Smith from Scotland Yard, and Miss Noble is the plucky young girl who helps me”
“Copyright Donna Noble”
“Major snap out of it. No, right out of it –“
“HOW IS HARVEY WALLBANGER ONE WORD”
The ENITRE reveal scene holy shit
“Ah, let’s see, it’s filed under C” *box contains a Cyberman part, a Carrionite egg, a bust of Caesar, and cables*
Fuck. I just. *clenches fist* I love this episode so damn much
Okay so plot threads. Well! No new info about Donna’s back, unfortunately, so nothing to tick off there. Only, as ever, things to add. There’s a scene where Donna is comforting Agatha (and finding vital clues), and she explains that her last partner ran off with a giant spider. That’s a hell of a thing. Oh, also Donna made her second reference to bees disappearing. But that’s it.
Fuck me but I would burn so much Capaldi for so much more Tennant/Donna.
Anyway the list of plot threads is now going under a read more, Christ on wheels
“She” (an unknown person) is returning (perhaps River returned as Missy. Maybe Me? Maybe Clara???!)
There is something on Donna’s back
An entire planet, Pyrovilia, just… disappeared, somehow. (Maybe because the TARDIS is exploding??? Saturnine was also lost, and that WAS because of the TARDIS exploding. The lion man’s planet was also lost but he was a bit of a knob about it if I’m honest.)
Amy is maybe dead (she’s not)
The Doctor has been cubed (he’s out, but how?)
River is possibly blown up  (unless she’s Missy)
The TARDIS has blown up  (It’s fine now. Except it’s sort of melting now because it’s corrupted, but it’s fine again)
The universe appears to have ended  (the universe is back again)
The Doctor has employed(?) Nardole
(And Nardole was “reassembled???” Nardole had glass nipples and invisible hair?? WHAT THE FUCK IS HE)
There’s a vault in the TARDIS and it contains Missy but we don’t know why (sometimes she knocks for the bants)
What has happened to all these companions and where are the new ones coming from?
There’s an immortal Viking girl now. Her name is Me and she’s now looking after the people the Doctor abandons
What’s With The Silence?
Why was Rory entirely unconcerned by the entire world suddenly going silent when that is Not Normal and should have been, at the very least, extremely disconcerting?
What did the Doctor do to Queen Lizzie One?
Who is Captain Jack Harkness? (Is he the one who gave the companions a warning about the lone cyberman?)
Why is Amy seeing a one-eyed woman in a vanishing window?
What’s with the Doctor’s future involving getting shot by an astronaut?
Is Amy pregnant and why is it inconclusive?
Who is Sarah-Jane Smith?
How is the Doctor Bill’s teacher and why/where does he have an office?
What is going on with the Cyber War and the Cyberium???
Who did the Doctor lose to Cyber Conversion?
What happened with the Other Cyber War?
What happened with the Third War that deleted the void?
Why does Rose seem particularly important?
What’s with the Weeping Angel statues, and why can’t you blink at them?
What order do these Doctors go in? (Eccleston, Tennant, uncertain, Smith, Capaldi, Whittaker)
Which companion just… forgot the Doctor, and how?
Yaz and Vinder are about to die as Mori/Mwri/Muuri
There is a Lupari shield around Earth.
What’s a Time War?
What’s the Rift?
What’s Bad Wolf?
What happened with Amy’s pregnancy?
In which war did the Doctor become a war criminal, and how?
Who is the Master?
Why has Amy forgotten Rory?
Is Rory plastic or not?
Why is the Doctor sulking on a cloud?
How exactly does the Doctor have a cloud?
What exactly happened with Strax to, uh, tame him?
Which friend killed Strax?
Which friend brought Strax back?
Where did this lesbian lizard and human couple come from?
What happened with Clara as Souffle Girl and the Daleks?
How does Clara actually join?
Why so many Claras?
Why is Missy apparently in robo-heaven?
Why is probably!Missy pushing Clara and the Doctor together?
What is Trensilor and what happened there?
Who is Handles?
The Doctor is about to be dissolved by a beautiful geode man
The universe is being crushed by the Flux
Will the Doctor open the fobwatch?
Sontarans are invading Earth again
Who is Kate?
Who is Osgood? Another name of Clara’s again?
The fuck is the deal with the Grand Serpent
Does Martha get to go to an ice cream planet with 12-fingered massage aliens?
How did the Doctor forget Clara?
Who is Bill’s puddle girlfriend Heather?
How did Nardole die?
When does Bill get Cyberman-ed and die?
When does the Doctor shrink and enter a Dalek called Rusty?
Whittaker is falling to her death rn
Was that ring relevant?
Does anyone know the Doctor’s name?
When did Yaz talk to Dan about fancying the Doctor?
When did Dan talk to the Doctor about fancying Yaz?
Who was the Doctor’s wife?
What's happening with the bees?
What happened with Donna's ex and a giant spider?
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vintage-bentley · 2 months
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in depth harry potter spoiler warning. but i wanted to talk about gay!dumbledore. what jkr really does well is the adult backstories. you meet the adult characters from an eleven year old’s perspective. as harry ages (in the last book he’s seventeen) he gradually learns new things about the adults and gains a better understanding of them as full people. but every single one of these adults was already the full person harry understands them as in book 7 all the way back in book 1. a lot of other ya authors try to imitate this and fuck up, either because they get excited and jump the gun, giving us way too much info way too soon, or because it’s blatant that the complexity was added later. dumbledore is a great example. in book 1 when harry first learns who he is (from the back of a candy box trading card with commentary from his friend ron) he’s this highly revered wizard who famously defeated the greatest dark wizard of all time pre-voldemort in a duel. when harry meets him it’s noted that his nose is crooked like it had been broken and never healed correctly. there’s a mirror that shows you your greatest wish and when harry asks what dumbledore sees he says a nice pair of knitted socks. harry can tell he’s lying but doesn’t push because he realizes that was a really personal question, but he doesn’t know dumbledore well enough to know what the truth would be. we get the full backstory drop in book 7. the simple version is: when dumbledore was a young man he was extremely close to another young man, one his brother didn’t like. they wind up in a three way brawl, dumbledore’s sister gets caught in the crossfire and dies. boyfriend up and leaves, brother breaks dumbledore’s nose at the funeral, boyfriend goes on to be the powerful dark wizard that dumbledore battles decades later. so even though harry didn’t know that backstory in book 1, it’s clear looking back it was already a part of him. anyway this is why it drives me bonkers when people say that dumbledore wasn’t gay in the books and jkr just said that after the fact for clout, because it’s an integrated part of his character and arc and has clearly been what jkr had in mind from the get go. no, harry doesn’t get the definition of homosexuality talk but homosexuality is absolutely there (and in more than just how close he and evil wizard were in backstory, in book 7 a homophobic tabloid journalist insinuates dumbledore was molesting harry). people act like him being gay was a retcon when it was just jkr being honest about what she wrote. sorry for the novel but yeah
Don’t be sorry, I’m glad to have this context!! Like I said, I haven’t read or watched HP so I’m completely clueless here and don’t really want to praise or bash Rowling over something I don’t know about. I lean towards praise though because it seems like anyone not caught on the “I hate JKR!” Bandwagon claims that Gay Dumbledore was handled well.
I really like the concept of finding out more about the adults as the child protagonist ages and gains new insight!
Tbh I imagine that this is a similar situation to GO S1: it’s not technically canon because it’s not explicit, and readers/viewers who either don’t want to see homosexuality, or are too entrenched in heteronormativity to think of spotting it, won’t see it. But LGB people and possibly even allies will spot it, because they’re either used to reading between the lines or are willing to see it.
So I don’t think she should be praised for explicit gay representation, which I haven’t seen anyone claiming (although like I said, I haven’t read the books so it’s possible I’d change my mind if I read them). But she’s much different from Neil in that she’s said “yes, it was my intention that he was gay, and there’s clues in the text that point to this and prove my intentions”. Neil has been like “yeah we called him the f slur and made him a gay stereotype for the laughs, but no he’s not gay. He can be literally anything else though”.
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arealphrooblem · 10 months
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A Favor for a Favor Part 5
Part one here
CW for the fic overall: kissing/fade to black off screen sex, mentions of non-consensual drugging, non-graphic wound care, off screen murder mention
Synopsis:
When Roxanne -- Agent name Rocket -- is back-stabbed by a friend and given a serum that drains her of her powers and leaves her helpless, she has no choice but to turn to the one person she can't trust: Her nemesis -- a politician and king of the underworld. With her powerless and in the palm of his hand, what he decides to do with her is greatly influenced by their chance meeting as teenagers that neither of them have been able to forget.
John had stayed home with her today and while he may have been happy to putter around the house, washing dishes (which was weird as hell, watching him be domestic), it was killing her to sit and do nothing while Erik got to prance around scott free.
He offered her chess, which she rejected by laughing in his face.
“Like I’m going to play with a known cheater,” she said. 
“You don’t think I can win on my own merit?” he asked, sounding almost offended.
“Oh probably. But you won’t. You can’t seem to stay out of my head.”
That fact should bother her more than it did. But part of her felt weirdly flattered that he considered her mind so fascinating. She had no dark past or juicy secrets or scandalous hobbies. Super speed was the only interesting thing about her and now she didn’t even have that anymore. 
That evening after dinner she watched him grab his coat and keys. A spark of excitement flared to life. 
“Where are we going?” she asked. “Did you find something out? You should let me borrow a jacket.”
He paused at the door, eyebrows raised. “We? We are not going anywhere.”
“Well you’re certainly going somewhere.”
“Yes. Without you.”
“What?”
He gave her a sharp look.“Let me make something very clear to you: there is no we.  I am handling this. You are staying here and you are not to leave until I get this sorted out.”
Her mouth fell open. “You can’t just -- hold me hostage like you kidnapped me!” she sputtered
“I did kidnap you. If the armed guards, rope, and empty warehouse didn’t clue you into that, I’m not sure what else could.”
“I -- that’s not -- what?”
“There is only one elevator that goes to the top floor,” he continued, ignoring her, “and it is heavily guarded by people who know your face and reputation.”
“I’m more than just fast you know,” she scoffed. “I could find a way out of here that doesn't use the elevator.”
“I’m sure you’d be reckless and stupid enough to try. Which is why great harm will come to those guards and their loved ones if you go missing from this apartment for any length of time. And their pain will rest on your shoulders.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“And also effective.” He flipped the collar up on his coat. “Be a good girl and stay here and nothing bad should happen.”
“I’ve never been a good girl a day in my life,” she spat, trying to regain some of her dignity.
He smirked. “You were the biggest teacher’s pet of your grade, Roxanne. Nice try.”
“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”
“Read a book,” he said with a shrug and opened the door. 
Oh she read a book all right. The book of his underwear drawer. And the storage totes under his bed. And the collection of worn old t-shirts in a forgotten zip up bag in the closet.  And every framed photo and painting in the house, one of which contained a picture of him and the crew at her work the first time he was interviewed. 
She remembered how insistent he was about getting it, glad-handing the caterers and gaffers and camera crew while she floundered between staring at him in awe of finally seeing him again after all these years, and sending him death glares just to let him know that she knew he was full of shit. 
He made sure she stood next to him in the photo but otherwise did not recognize her. Or at least he pretended not to. She still wasn’t sure of that first time, even after all these years. 
 Interesting that he kept the photo framed in his bedroom. There were no pictures of family or friends. He looked so warm and friendly in that photo and yet had no evidence that he actually had anyone to be warm and friendly to outside of politics. 
The library contained an immaculately carved stone chess set along with shelves of books. John mostly curated biographies, self help books (of the learn how to manipulate people variety), historical fiction, classics. Books meant to impress people. Only a small lower shelf by the couch contained well thumbed pulp sci-fi paperbacks, like the kind her dad collected. 
She picked one up and read until she fell asleep on the couch. 
John did not come back that night.
By the time he reappeared, over 24 hours later, Roxanne was moments away from going full crazy town banana pants. Nothing distracted her from her racing thoughts, not the books, not the TV with every streaming service known to man, not the heated outdoor pool on the rooftop terrace or second deliciously long hot bath in his tub. 
“Fucking finally!” she cried as he stepped through the door and toed his shoes off. “What the hell took so long!”
“I would tell you but that might make you an accessory to murder,” he said. 
She froze, stomach plummeting. “That’s a joke, right?”
“Have you eaten yet?” he asked instead.  
“Don’t change the subject! Where the hell were you? What did you do?”
“I’ll tell you one thing I didn’t do and that was eat.” 
He made his way to the kitchen and she marched after him, an annoying and persistent little gnat. 
“Did you find anything out?”
He opened the freezer and pulled out a frozen lasagna.
“Preheat the oven to four fifty,” he said. 
“You’re doing this on purpose,” she said, viciously punching the number into his ridiculous touch screen oven. 
“I’m trying to gage how much more you will hate me after I tell you.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t hate you. I might want to strangle you a lot and see you in an orange jumpsuit for a little while, but I don’t hate you.”
He looked at her, cautious and solemn, reminding her powerfully of when she first met him. “You might start.”
A knot twisted in her gut. “You killed Erik, didn’t you?”
“Oh yes. With great pleasure.”
It almost didn’t sink in. Her mind tried desperately to deny it, crying liar at him, because he lied all the time, why not about this? But he didn’t even try to hide it.
“Why?”
“He stole from me and he used it to hurt you. Both were unforgivable.”
The admission that someone hurting her felt unforgivable to him sent her brain into overdrive trying to figure out the implications. It took her a moment to catch on to the the first part of what he said. 
“What do you mean stole? What did he steal?”
He leaned across the counter, arms crossed, face impassive. Ready for a fight. 
“The serum he used to take your powers -- I had it created some years ago. He took it from my labs to use against you.”
She felt dizzy, suddenly. Her pulse roared in her ears. “You made it?” she asked faintly.
He just looked at her.
 “ . . .You. It came from you.”
God damn it, she really was as stupid and naive as he thought. She took shelter with him, thinking she knew the risks, because he was the one person not associated with the Agency or potentially in their pocket. He didn’t need them to have his own power. And yeah, he would definitely take advantage of her vulnerability for his own gain; she expected that. 
She didn’t think he would be the cause of it.
How much of this was an elaborate mind game?  Did he pay Erik to do this to take her out of commission? Did he kill Erik to keep his anonymity? Did he hedge his bets that she would seek him out for help rather than go on  the run on her own?
How long did he intend to hold her hostage here? Was he going to kill her the moment she had her guard fully down, the moment after everyone reported her missing and assumed dead?
“Roxanne,” he said, taking  a slow cautious step towards her. “That serum was not made for you. It was never intended for you. I did not set this up as a scheme to kill you.”
“It sounds exactly like something you would do,” she hissed, throat tight with unshed tears.
“I can’t deny that. But I had this serum for five years. Why would I wait until now to use it? Why would I embed myself in the Agency to do it when any of your fellow camera crew could have done the job? Think, Roxanne. I am a bastard, but I’m not stupid. This was a stupid, reckless plan.”
He made sense. He spoke logic. But that didn’t make it true. He had gotten his power through knowing exactly what to say to people to get what he wanted. 
She wanted, very badly, for it to be true. 
He took another step closer and the kitchen felt suddenly claustrophobic. 
“Don’t,” she said, voice strangled. “Stay away! I just -- I need some air.”
She turned and ran.
In mid January the rooftop terrace was frigid. She had no coat. The cold air felt bracing, though, and it calmed her feverish thoughts. It brought clarity. 
She could not hide from the fact that she might not love John, but she wanted to. She could, if she let herself. That she felt tied to him, responsible for him, all this time. That she understood why he clawed his way into a sense of power and safety through any means necessary even if she didn’t approve of them. She could not cast the first stone because she would probably not be any different in his shoes. 
The thought that he had betrayed her like this felt unbearable. It literally made her sick, like her entire body rejected the idea. She forced herself to confront the possibility anyway. Because as much as she did care for John, she really couldn’t trust him to do anything that conflicted with his best interests.
 And it was in his best interest to keep her powerless. 
Of course, the real problem was that if he did betray her, there was fuck all she could do about it. He could be bluffing about hurting his own guards and their families, but she would never risk it. He lived on the top story of the building, so she couldn’t sneak her way down. If he had the money and ability to bribe Erik, who else in the Agency did he have in his pocket? She had no one else with resources to help her and she didn’t know who she could trust. 
She had to give him the benefit of the doubt. 
She had no other choice. 
Part 6 here
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filipinosamflynn · 6 months
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Golden Son tier list + review! :D
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These books are so fucking good, I want to continue with book 3 already. I have never read books this quickly, but DAMN that was good. You can see my live thoughts while I was reading from the tag "#sam flynn reads red rising", but here are my post reading thoughts below the cut.
Characters: 9/10, everyone served their purpose well and was great except for Antonia, who SOMEHOW still disappointed me.
Plot: 9/10, I have no clue if there was anything for me to complain about.
Personal Enjoyment: 10/10, I was unfortunately spoiled to 2 events within the book before I started reading, but I had so much fun regardless. I wish I had come in 100% blind :(
I have NO CLUE where to start. I guess I'll start with Fitchner. His identity as the founder of Ares was no secret to me when I came into the book, I strayed too far and accidentally got myself spoiled. Despite that, the reveal was still fucking brilliant. I'm surprised by how far he shot up in my tier list, from close to the bottom to being top 5. Wish he didn't die though 😭
Another character that shot pretty dramatically up the tier list was the Jackal. I knew he was gonna betray Darrow from the start based on intuition (thankfully not from spoilers) but DAMN HE DIDNT HAVE TO DO ALL THAT 😭 He's so sociopathic, I love that. I am no longer disappointed by him, and are excited to see what this little fucker has in store next! (Unlike with Antonia. Maybe I hyped myself up too highly for her, I expected her to play a larger role in everything but she feels so much like a pawn, it's embarrassing. She is my unironic least favorite character because of how plain disappointed I am in her, and it's not a fun hatred, it's a "oh she is here again. will she do anythin- nope. okay.")
Roque. Sweet Roque. I thought you were eh in the first book, just a cool voice for darrow to talk to I guess. But after the ending, fuck you 😍 I got spoiled by his betrayal, but honestly I saw his betrayal coming when Darrow kept being unable to reconcile with him. Either that or Roque dies, but uhhhhh I got spoiled anyways so it was going to be the latter. yeah I wish he had died instead of this! 🥰 but honestly and to be fair, yeah Darrow kind of deserved some of it for being such an ass of a friend, but:
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Cassius went down the tier list because the gala fight was AMAZING but he doesn't show up after that again until the end, and that made me feel sort of hesitant? BUT HE IS CLEARLY STILL BEING SET UP FOR THE FUTURE SO HE BETTER NOT PULL AN ANTONIA AND DO NOTHING BUT BE A PAWN.
Sevro is half red, cool! I am so glad he's still such a lovable scamp. I got excited every time he showed up, I love him.
Darrow is still an amazing protagonist, and I am so glad we are past his angsty "I miss my wife" phase, but I can guarantee I will see more of it after the ending. At least I will be mentally prepared for the whump this time.
Mustang is at her prime here. The scene with her in Lykos was so... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH i fucking hope she returns for darrow because these two are awesome and they deserve all the happiness.
Oh yeah, the scene where they revisit Lykos? As I said in a previous post, it watered my crops and cleansed my skin. I am so glad we finally got to catch up with Darrow's family. AND HE GOT TO HUG HIS MOM AAAAAAAAAA- I hoped we would see Darrow talk with the rest of his family, but just everything about this was comfort enough. Rest in peace uncle Narol though. 😥 Even if the meeting with darrow and his mom was cut abruptly short by Kieran's kids, but my heart... 🥹
Ragnar spawns in and just gets to business, and I love him. I love stories where people raised for only one thing learn to break free of their mold (that's why i was so interested in this series in the first place). I think it's so iconic that every time he speaks, the text becomes bold, that instantly endeared me to him somehow.
Victra was good, but her insistence on Darrow was weird. Could be because I'm a hard Darrow × Mustang shipper.
That's all the characters I feel like talking about. Onto other things like the plot! The plot was SO much better than the first book. We're finally out of that fuckass academy and doing actual rebelling finally! I don't know what else to say, the twists and the plots were phenomenal. The fight scenes here are even better than the ones in the first book. Overall, y'all weren't kidding when people said book 1 was the weakest of the series because I am flabberghasted by how good this book is.
I don't know what else to say, all of this has just been rambling. Darrow better break those god damn chains at the end of it all.
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timaeusterrored · 5 months
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(Happy Birthday Vax Florence Eurodyne)
((Well, it’s finally here. A whole year (give or take) of me first playing Cyberpunk. It’s been a wild ride and I’ll be honest, there for a second I didn’t think I’d make it a year. I’ve met so many amazing people, met some not so great ones, and lost some amazing ones as well. But at the end of the day… Vax has survived a year. Happy birthday, sweet boy!))
Kerry had done it on purpose, getting Vax fucked up the night before so he could sleep in. Vax didn’t normally sleep in, and normally he woke up when he felt his partners getting up… and yet he somehow woke up at 10am completely alone without realizing.
The penthouse was silent, but the smell of a nice breakfast greeted him as he came to his senses. He whined and face planted back into the pillow, glaring at where his husband should have been.
Fucker… wait.
What day was it?
Oh fuck him. It was his fucking birthday. Well, his and Vex’s birthday…
He should text her at least today. Maybe they could go- no. Maybe not.
Vax rolled out of bed, stretching as Nibbles and Pluto tried to take him out. The cats meowed at his feet, and Vax realized Jupiter was nowhere to be found. Venus must’ve took him out.
Well this was a little rude. He didn’t expect much from his birthday but some kisses would have been nice. But no one was here. Though a plate of delicious looking pancakes sat on the counter and a full pot of coffee had been made just for him. A little whipped cream heart with cherries added made the fixer smile, and realize he hadn’t been forgotten about today.
As he ate, he realized a note had been left on the coffee pot, in Venus’s handwriting.
‘Come to the place we first shook hands for your next clue <3’
Next clue? What the hell?
Vax thought for a moment, wondering where the hell that could have been. When he and Venus met, his sickness was at its peak and he had been preparing for his meeting with Hanako. He frowned at the memories of that time, of headaches so bad he couldn’t move, the mornings he woke up choking on his own blood…
He shook the thoughts away and looked at the note again, trying to think.
It had been somewhere in the badlands, guess he should go ahead and get ready then.
V had gotten dressed after he finished his food and had started his long drive out to wherever the fuck Venus was dragging him. He found his partners laid out on the back of the Beast, absolutely blasting Lizzy Wizzy’s newest album with Jupiter laying next to him.
The nomad looked up when he heard Vax’s car roll up and Vax smiled. He truly believed he had scored the hottest people in Night City somehow.
When he got out, Venus was standing with a piece of paper in their hand. But when Vax approached, they simply held their hand out for a shake.
“It’s a pleasure doin’ business with ya as always, Eurodyne.”
What? No kisses? No darlin’?
When he looked at the new note is when he realized what was going on. A fucking scavenger hunt.
“No kisses? It is my birthday.” Vax pouted, tugging on Venus’s chrome hand.
“Don’t tempt me! No kisses until later, boss’s orders.” Venus pulled his hands away, and got back into the vehicle, calling for their dog to follow as Vax pondered who the boss of this whole thing was. He thinks he knows.
The next note read: ‘Come lose at cards again, I’ll be waiting -The better J’
Judy.
On the drive over to Judy’s place, Vax had to admit this whole thing was cute and exciting. And obviously a lot of effort was put into it. As he pulled in, Judy was standing outside, messing with the note in her hand with a smile.
“Happy birthday.” She said as if she couldn’t contain herself.
Vax smiled as he held his hand out for the note, honestly excited to see who all was involved.
“Who else is in on this?” V finally asked, just wanting to know.
“Boss’s orders, can’t say.” She shrugged, before heading back inside. She had always been a shitty secret keeper.
‘Come find me at the place we had the most awkward dinner known to man- R’
Vax laughed as he headed back to his car. River.
Kerry and Johnny’s newest song came on the radio as he drove, he couldn’t help but turn it up and wondered where his husbands would be in all of this.
He pulled up to the trailer and found his best friend sitting on the table outside, watching Dorian and Monique play.
“Vax! Happy Birthday!” The kids were immediately on him, giving him hugs and saying they had something for him but it wasn’t done yet.
“Alright you two! He’s on a mission. Happy birthday, V!” Joss said from the door, letting the kids come back in.
“And this is for you now.” River handed him the note, Vax eager to figure out who was next. “Having fun?”
“Dude I’m having a fucking blast. Getting to see my favorite people on my day? Hell yeah.”
“Good, I’m glad. I’ll- uh. Bye.” River quickly walked off, rubbing the back of his neck. Okay so River was a shit secret keeper too. Good to know.
‘The place I hid your man’s asshole ex manager’s couch. -SM’
He was glad to see Mike embracing the Small Michael joke.
He found Mike behind the El Coyote, sitting on a dumpster while he waited.
“Hey dude! Happy birthday!” Mike hopped down and wrapped his friend in a hug. “Was told to keep the meeting quick so here ya go.”
Ahhh, so the boss wanted the meetings to go quick. He obviously had to be somewhere by the end of this.
“Goooooo! You got people to see!”
‘Nice and Cozy in here. Come to bar. -P’
Panam was being straightforward as always. It was late afternoon by this point, each place taking quite a bit to get too and find, as well as his rather slow and late start to the morning. Depending on where he was dragged next, he was starting to worry Kerry and Johnny wouldn’t be on this adventure…
He pulled up to back, once again finding his target outside. Short and sweet.
Panam handed him the note, then leaned back against the wall.
“What? No kiss? It’s my birthday, Pan.” Vax teased, making the nomad roll her eyes.
“Short and sweet. Boss’s orders.”
“Didn’t think you followed orders.”
“He’s really convincing- fuck. Fuck you.” Aha! A pronoun! And now a pissed off Panam. She glared at him as he blew a kiss to her and got back in his car to read the note.
And his heart swelled…
‘Go to the place we knew we were fucked. -J’
He’d know that handwriting anywhere. And the note lead him to the oil field.
Johnny Silverhand was sat in the same place Vax had been all those years ago, looking at what was possibly the note he had carved into the metal.
Vax whistled as he approached, his man looking fine as hell today if he had to say so himself. By now, it was around 4:30pm, and most of Vax’s birthday had been spent driving all around the city and Badlands looking for people. He wasn’t complaining though…
“Took you long enough.” Johnny stood, hands in his pockets as Vax stood directly in front of him.
“Had a long day, very little birthday affection I might add. The fuck is that about?” Vax pulled his husband closer by his collar, making Johnny grin a bit.
“Boss’s orders… never listened to orders anyway.” Johnny gave Vax his first birthday kiss, hands sliding around his waist. Their kisses were always a bit intense trying to become one again.
“Where’s my note?” Vax asked when they finally pulled away, but Johnny shrugged.
“Don’t have one. I do however think you should go get you a Jackie Welles at the bar. You’ve earned it.”
“Where’s Ker, J?” Vax asked finally, no note, no nothing. Not even a text from him all day. He had a feeling he knew where he was but if he went down there and Kerry wasn’t waiting for him, he’d be destroyed.
“Just go get you a drink. He’ll be around later. I swear.” Johnny lightly pushed him towards his car, making Vax frown.
The frown didn’t go away when he didn’t see Kerry’s car at the bar… or anyone’s as a matter of fact. He sighed and wondered if Johnny was his prize in the end. Maybe. He hadn’t completely lost hope.
The Afterlife was suspiciously quiet. That was the first thing he noted, the second thing he noted was that Claire wasn’t at the bar, and also the there was no one fucking here-
Hands covered his eyes.
Normally he’d tense up but he could smell the cologne and could recognize the hands from a mile away. He smiled.
“Happy birthday.” Kerry whispered before uncovering his eyes.
Friends and family alike had come out of their hiding spot, with none other than his twin sister at the front, Blue standing behind her as if he had been covering her eyes. The twins stared at each other before everyone burst out a loud ass ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY!’
“Did you have both of us running through the city- did you plan all of this?” Vax turned to finally meet his husband, wearing that blue shirt he loved so much.
“Yes I did and apparently we had some close calls because some of your people overlapped. Now what the fuck is about you thinking I forgot your birthday? I’m an asshole not a fucking monster-“
Vax pulled his husband in for a kiss, one he earned and had been craving all day. Whistles and laughter alike from around them as music began to play.
“How’d I do?” Kerry whispered when they pulled away. It was easy for Kerry to drag them into their own little world.
“Would’ve liked to have a good morning kiss… but other than that I had fun.” Vax teased.
“Then I did my job.”
The rest of the night was filled with talking and drinks, and the twins’ favorite foods. Vax was attached to his partners the rest of the night, okay yeah maybe he was a bit codependent but he loved them! And hadn’t had them all day.
Rogue stated she couldn’t believe Kerry had slipped this by Vax, and honestly Vax himself was surprised. But Kerry knew him like an opened book so he couldn’t be too surprised that his husband knew how to keep secrets… it was Judy they had been worried about.
At some point, Mama Welles had called for cake. Vax was surprised there even was one, but for the first time ever, the Kane Twins got to blow their candles out together.
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my-shields-are-down · 2 years
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What's ur thoughts on the break up? Should Tim have broken it off?
Personally if Tim did break up with Ashley then he'd have to face his feelings for Lucy and I dont think he's ready to just yet.
Thanks for the question! People might be surprised by my answer - especially since I have been anti-Ashley (I call her Voldie in most other places, but not today) for awhile now.
I have mixed feelings about “the break up”. Turns out I have quite a lot of thoughts on this (and some tangents), so this might be long.
First, on the surface the manner in which Ashley broke up with Tim was harsh - a total dick move. She couldn’t wait until he was coherent, she had to dump & dash the instant he was opened his eyes? She couldn’t wait until he was clear of anesthesia? Completely heartless. Rude.
And yet, on another hand, she had an epiphany at some point that a life with Tim where he stays in his job and doesn’t retire is not a life she can lead - so she swiftly takes action and goes. I am all about action, deciding or recognizing what works or doesn’t, what you want and going after that?! Fuck yeah, I support that big time. That said, I would have waited - because that was the more compassionate, empathetic way to do it. The way Ashley has been written, neither of those two things would be considered her top qualities. Lucy? Yes, definitely. Ashley? Not so much.
I think there were clues from the beginning of the episode that this could happen.
1) Tim mentions being on Whole 30 - it was Ashley’s idea in reaction to her dad having some health issues. Ashley and her Dad are wickedly close - I bet she is freaking out that his health could be at risk- so she’s desperately trying to control her life. Tim is part of that world - so he gets controlled to.
2) Ashley got WAY too excited about the possibility of Tim retiring. I felt like she was on a game show and the host had just said, “if he retires, tell her what she’s won Bob!” For a first time conversation on the topic she just barreled through all the possibilities and benefits like it was a done deal. Which made me think that she’s had this conversation with her Dad on more than one occasion and Dad regrets not taking advantage sooner - or he says he does.
She then brushes off Tim’s idea of traveling to see a MLB game in every stadium - which first, I raised my hand and volunteered to go with him, and second I think she does that all the time with Tim. The few scenes we saw her in were about Tim changing to meet her wants and needs instead of them growing together in a new direction.
3) Neither Tim nor Ashley asked any questions about the surgery. Granted because of their jobs as first responders, they’ve have some trauma training and advanced first aid classes. But this is major surgery, major not because of method - the fact they can do a minimally invasive procedure is fantastic, but major because the spine is involved. Like the brain, there’s so much unknown about the spine and the nervous system and LUCY is the only one who asks about the dangers involved the surgery. No one asks about side effects, or lasting damage, recovery times, PT, pain management, etc etc. I get being shocked, but this is why you take someone with you to ask questions while you sit there and freak out about knives being near your spine.
4) Ashley just stood there. She wasn’t holding his hand, or sitting next to Tim in the bed providing comfort and care before during or after the doctor’s visit. She was facing him like an adversary as opposed to sitting next to him as a partner or team member. Without knowing how she and Tim interact when alone, I read this as she was starting to distance herself from him. With him, but not.
She’s not overtly affectionate, she’s very reserved, hesitant almost and I think insecure. She rarely looks Tim in the eye for any extended period of time, and she’s not aware or open to Tim. I don’t think she loves Tim as he is. I think she loves the version of Tim that she’s created in her head, if he changes x, y, z then he’ll be perfect. A confident person loves and accepts themselves, I don’t think Ashley does. She kept looking to Tim for validation, that’s not confidence.
I said it in another post, but I think Ashley’s relationship with her Dad really shapes her relationship with Tim. She’s the apple of Jerry’s eye. I am sure Jerry doted on her and always let her have her way. So she manhandles her relationship with Tim to recreate that type of relationship where she’s the focus, and she controls everything.
Because things with her most important male (Jerry) are taking some hits because of his health, Ashley’s relationship with a Tim is receiving the backlash of that. She’s going to want Tim to provide her with a life that gives HER happiness - a lifeguard in Bali, living with Tim off his free money. When she realized that wasn’t going to happen, she bailed and ran.
I don’t think Lucy ever really entered into Ashley’s mind about the break up other than as a passing thought that Tim has a large cop family to support him.
===
I think if we had waited for Tim to break up with Ashley, we would have been waiting a long time. Tim liked Ashley. He cared about her. I think he was stung when she left him - more proof he’s unlovable, that people who love him, leave him. She was safe. Tim knew what to expect in his relationship with Ashley.
Being in a relationship with Lucy is wholly overwhelming for Tim. Like space, it’s undiscovered territory. He’s been in love - but Isobel didn’t know him as well as Lucy does. He has female friends - but he does not long for Angela like he longs for Lucy. I believe Tim doesn’t think Lucy likes him likes him or more importantly doesn’t think she loves him loves him. Yes, she’s attracted to him and yes, she willingly invited Tim into her home for a night of sexual pleasure. But she said it was biology. He doesn’t yet know it wasn’t just that for her.
IMO Tim never would have broken up with Ashley unless Lucy broke up with Chris and she told Tim that it wasn’t pretend for her. That she loves him and wants to be with him. Lucy, however, is waiting for Tim to do the same thing. She’s waiting for Tim to say he wants her, that he desires her, that he loves her. They are both waiting for the other to make the first move.
Right now, Tim’s overwhelmed with feelings. Feelings about Ashley and their break up. Feelings about Lucy. Feelings about her spending the night in the hospital with him. Feelings about surgery, retirement, marriage, babies, his sister, selling his childhood home, his dad dying, etc. He’s got more feelings on top of feelings, intertwined with other feelings that he doesn’t know which way is up. Before he can do anything, he has to untangle them all, acknowledge and name them and accept and process them. I bet he deals with Lucy first because SHE is the most important thing to him.
Thankfully, Tim is much more adept at dealing with them now. He’s strengthened his emotional intelligence muscle (thank you Lucy), but he’s not a talker - unless he talks to Lucy. He’s an avoider - and he’s going to avoid Lucy because it hurts him not being able to fully connect like he wants to. As he realizes how in deep the connection is with her, I don’t think he’ll be able to do it half way. Unless, there’s an imminent threat to losing her, I don’t think he’s going to be able to let her back in not all the way- his struggle with wanting to be near Lucy vs letting her in all the way, will play out on Tim’s super expressive face.
Tim is in feelings overload- so I expect Tim to revert back to TO Tim or try to at least. I loved that version of him. I’ve loved Tim since day one. He was in self-preservation mode. A hard shell and big time walls preventing people from seeing the anguish and heartbreak over losing his wife. Imagine it - you are married and one day your spouse disappears. Gone. How would YOU handle that? What would YOU be like in the world? Would you put up walls so you could cope? Or would all your emotions be on display 24x7? Or somewhere in between? Tim likely will distance himself emotionally with extreme professionalism as a way to keep his feelings hidden and in check. Without Ashley he now has no protection from Lucy, his feelings are going to be more obviously on display. He will probably make some bad decisions along the way. Until he opens back up and let’s Lucy back in.
Anyway… my 25 cents on the topic.
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house-of-slayterr · 1 year
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Hello Mx. Writer! It's me again:)
How do you think Maggie and Basil and even V would react to see a Riddler v.s. Victor showdown? Aka how they react to the love triangle?
Hello Anon 🥰 how are you my dear?
Oh god, ok. Victor Vs Ed would be a walking nightmare- but god would I want to watch! Also I know we’re talking our Gotham boys right now, but I can’t help but think about what would happen if Birds of Prey Zsasz tried to fight The Batman’s Ed Nashton… terrifying!
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Ed’s love for Y/N is very respect base. She’s a little older then the man and he knows there’s a lot he can learn from her. So perhaps one day when Oswald is really getting on his nerves, Ed goes to Y/N for help with revenge. I mean it’s obvious he’s in love with the boy. Y/N can see it plain as day, so of course she’s going to help the younger villain.
He sees Y/N and Vic fight all the time. Yet they’re still madly in love. Besides he enjoys the thrill of his little feud with her boss. Is Gotham, normal relationships don’t exist. If you haven’t tried to kill each other even once, are you really even a couple? Them spending more time together is totally innocent. Riddler slips in from time to time and tries to crack little jokes and puns at Y/N. He’s not blind, the women is very attractive, but he doesn’t have a death sentence. He knows she’s Victor’s, but a little friendly flirty never hurt anyone right? Besides, he loves to watch her laugh.
And boy is she laughing! You know that classic cackle where you lean back in your chair so far you almost fall, and the other person puts a hand on their shoulder to steady you. That sort of full belly laugh that has a minor insanity behind it. Of course neither of them are sober during these little midnight plotting sessions. That would be no fun. Between the shitty riddles, the booze and plotting to make Oswald so furious the idiot throws a week long tantrum, Y/N feels totally free and giddy. There’s a certain high she gets from strategising a war that’s not serious for once. One where there’s no high stakes, and nobody’s going home having lost something they’d rather not go without.
VICTOR DOES NOT LIKE THIS!! That attention should be his. Her laugh should be from him. Not this low level, criminal wanna be. He looks like a damn leprechaun who sprouted real people legs. And when Victor comes home after a long day, looking for his Wife and finds Nygma with his hand around her. He’s seeing RED!!!!
Despite what everyone thinks, Vic does have impulse control. It’s very little but he does know how to show some self restraint. So he pulls himself away in the moment. Course, he does go out and make it EVERYONE else’s problem. Jimbo better hope he doesn’t run into the assassin on his little rampage. Cause Victor is not afraid to cut anyone down to size who gets in his way. He’s furious, and even if this little friendship was totally innocent, that wouldn’t change fuck all to him. Little does Victor know Y/N planned this. She could help Nygma, while playing the side game to rile her lover up. I mean Vic is way more fun when he’s bloodthirsty. Can’t blame a woman for wanting some excitement, or to be dominated every once in a while.
And Victor is playing right into her plan. If Oswald called a meeting because he’s growing suspicious of this sudden friendship, everyone would have to be there. If there’s one thing Oswald likes, it’s humiliating people. Why do in private what you can do in public instead? Needless to say Maggie and Basil have no clue why they’re being summoned that morning. Oswald’s pretty much locks them all in the room and just glares until someone tells him what he wants to hear. Nobody says anything at first, I mean poor Maggie and Basil have no idea what’s going on. But Victor would be the first to make a move. No words, just a punch straight to Ed’s nose.
He’d pull his gun as the man stumbled back and point it right between his eyes. A challenge to try anything, wether that be making a physical move, or attempting to even speak. Nothing Ed could say would make Victor any less trigger happy.
Maggie is the first to recognise this, and would instantly jump up from here chair.
“Woah, Victor, what the hell are you doing?” She’d ask bewildered.
Victor doesn’t move the gun, just turns his head to look at her and smirks.
“Taking out the trash.”
She’s roll her eyes.
“Nygma, what did you do?” She’s demand.
Maggie might be fairly soft spoken, but everyone could tell there was an urgency in her voice. It was gentle but commanding.
“What makes you think I did anything? The bastards crazy!” Ed defends.
Of course, Basil takes note to the fact that Y/N hasn’t had much of a response to any of this. She never attempted to rise from her seat, and there was no readable emotion on her face. It was suspicious, like she was trying to play innocent. Basil just raises a questioning brow at the woman, who gives no indication she’s going to be revealing anything anytime soon. She just sips from her cup while she watches.
Maggie pinches her brow in annoyance.
“Oswald?”
Despite him very clearly taking a more dominant role in the relationship that they have, Oswald steps forward as if his own mother just called him forward. No hesitation at all. She’d look down at the man.
“Why are we here?”
“They’re plotting something against me, I just know it.” He says, anger in his town.
Maggie hand help the exasperated sigh that leaves her mouth. She’s grown used to playing therapist.
“You’re all hopeless.” She scoffs. “Ok Oz, you’re being paranoid. Nobody in this room is trying to hurt you. Edward, you need to wipe that smug grin off your face, Victor put the damn gun down. And you-“
She’d pause when she gets to Y/N. I mean what can she say, she’s not exactly doing anything. Besides, it would be a weighty punishment if she talked back to the woman. Y/N would raise a challenging brow at the girl, smirking a little.
“Stop being so quiet, it’s creeping me out.” Maggie said, shuddering.
Nothing good ever happened when Y/N was quiet for too long. Quiet meant she was thinking, and hard. Y/N certainly amused by Maggie’s lame attempt at diffusing this situation.
“How can I stop a non-action dear?” Y/N would smirk.
Maggie would just look to Basil for help. He’d just nod his head at Edward, showing he’s the weakest link in the group right now. Maggie would clear her throat and approach.
“Look, Edward, sweetie-“ Riddler does not enjoy her tone right now. “You’re going to have to fess up to what you did sooner or later. Or else none of us are leaving this room. And I swear to you, if I have to miss going to the bookstore with Jim to pick out Bruce a book for his birthday, I am going to rip out your spleen and make you crawl across hot coals to get it back.”
She wasn’t fucking around. If anyone hated plans being interrupted more than Y/N, it’s was Maggie. And plans with Jim none the less, she was currently wanting to scream.
“Wait you’re going book shopping with Jim?” Oswald asks.
Everyone can hear the slight jealousy in his voice. Despite him not sharing affection for the girl in that way, didn’t mean he had to enjoy anyone else showing her said affection.
“Yeah, Bruce has been talking about this specific book for months, only place I can find it is down in the offered. Jim offered to go with me, probably cause he has no idea what to get the kid and wants to leach off my gift. But whatever.”
Not true. Everyone in that room new it’s because Jim didn’t want her alone in the narrows. Always the gentleman, that man. She tried back to Riddler.
“So you’re going to sit down and start talking, or so help me god I’ll just let Victor shoot you.”
Nobody really knew if the girl was being serious.
“I’m serious, I didn’t do anything wrong. Is having friends illegal now?” He questioned.
“Now I get it.” Basil chimed in. “Victor you jealous bastard, you do know your wife is allowed to talk to people right? That’s a basic human right.”
Victor would growl, wanting to shoot the younger man as well.
“Ed, apologise to Victor for making him insecure. Y/N apologise to Oswald for making him paranoid. And Victor, put the fucking gun down before I shove it up your scrawny ass. I’m not fucking around today guys, I don’t have time for this shit.”
“That time of the month?” Victor asked.
Yeah that would be the last straw. Screw an actual showdown between Victor and Edward, right now this was about to be between Victor and God. Of course Victor is going to be holding a grudge on Edward for a long time. Messing up the man’s plans and trying to shoot him at practically any opportunity they have when Maggie’s out of sight. Victor thinks Maggie’s and innocent little kitty cat, and frequently makes fun of the girl for being so soft. But, he’s also seen her shot Sofia with no hesitation because Jim was involved. Honestly he was pretty proud of her for that.
Maggie would turn back to him bewildered.
“What did you just say?”
Oh, she’s bold with it. To talk to the Victor Zsasz like he wasn’t gripping a fully loaded gun right now. Basil would be quick to step in, stepping between his big sis and Victor. Of course he’d love to watch her throw a punch at the guy, but he also knows it’s a fight she can’t win. And nobody in that room is thinking straight. He’d pull her backward into a hug, trapping her against him so she can’t move. She’d put up a valiant effort, kicking and grumbling to try to get out of his arms. Even going so far as to bite him, but he’s undeterred.
“Fine, the two do you kill each other for all I care. And Y/N, I hope whatever you’re planning is worth it.”
She’d convince Basil to let her go.
“I’m getting out of here, Basil you’re on family therapy duty today. Whatever blood is spilt, they’re cleaning it up. If I come back and see a maid doing that shit, I’m setting this entire house on fire with both of them inside.”
She’d walk over to Oswald and kiss him on the cheek. As she does so she swipes the keys from his pocket and walks toward the door. Everyone watches as she goes.
“Be back later, love you all!” She’d say, a clear attempt to try and push down any anger she was feeling.
She didn’t want her mood to be sour when she met up with Jim. As the door shut behind her, everyone just turns to look back at Y/N.
“Oh she’s definitely on her period.” Y/N concluded with a smile. “You heard what the lady said, she wants blood she’d and carnage.” She would sip her drink, even further amused as it dawns on everyone they’ve been used.
“Unbelievable.” Basil says, shaking his head.
But sitting down to watch as Y/N just hands him the full bottle of wine she’d been nursing.
“You’re insane.” Oswald grumbles as he also goes to leave the room.
Victor and Edward just stand there dumbfounded, not sure what to do next. Victor cracks his knuckles.
“I’m going to give you a five minuet head start.” He tells the man in green.
“One- Two-“
Yeah, Edwards supposed to be a genius, so he doesn’t even wait for three before he’s sprinting for the door. He’d have to think of a good way to shake Zsasz. They’d watch after him until he was out of sight. Victor just turns back to his wife.
“You’re not going after him are you?” She asks amused.
“No, that idiot can die tomorrow, you on the other hand-“
And Basil takes that as his que to leave. He knows where all that pent up rage is going to leave. And frankly he doesn’t want to see them hate fuck each other.
An; lol I love sassy Maggie in this chapter. I was just in a silly goofy mood today guys, so so is she. We all know Edward ran to the Sirens club to hide.
@keffirinne @flaysthings @howl-fantasies
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weirdthoughtsandideas · 9 months
Text
So my most famous fanfiction is not dcla related (although I bet I made references in it, I always did even before I wrote dcla fics).
Anyway, no, it was this Glee chatfic that I did in 2020, titled "Glee, but it's another chatfic". I literally got crowned "Queen of chatfics" due to this fic when I posted it.
It's over 80 chapters and while that sounds like a LOT, every chapter is super short. One chapter is literally just this:
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It was all really stupid shit like this every chapter but people ATE IT UP. I guess everyone was really bored in 2020.
I am scrolling through random chapters rn and here's another really short one that I am 100% sure I posted at like 2 AM.
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In fact, a lot of this fic was written and posted when I was sleep deprived. But it fits with Glee so :D
Random stuff that happens:
Santana starts a group chat called "lesbians who need help" and then she lefts it herself. However, she randomly joins the chat out of nowhere to answer stuff, before leaving again.
Marley and Madison are dating, because one person I chatted with said it would be funny if they met. So I made them meet.
Faberry secretly dates until they don't
Mr. Schue gets some more kids (since he and Emma had like 5 kids in the finale) and I named them random stuff. However, I had apparently named two of them something that was the names of characters in a musical I had never seen. So everyone in the comments were like "ah so you like that musical" and I was like "NO I HAVE NEVER SEEN IT JUST A COINCIDENCE-"
There's a lot of scenes like this:
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One chapter just has every character writing in caps
I have absolutely no idea what's going on here
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Oh yeah uh. I wrote the whole chatfic because I wanted to make a joke that Brittany could speak swedish because she was blonde. This one joke turned into 80 chapters of nonsense.
One chapter has everyone just spamming "meow"
Ok what the fuck did I write here help
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The more I read of this fic the more I wonder if this actually would happen in Glee or not, and I realize it probably would.
I had a Brittana pregnancy fic that I reference a bit in this chatfic. Problem is that I DELETED THE PREGNANCY FIC LATER because I realized I would never update it so now there's a bunch of references to a fic that's gone sdxfcgvbjn
In one chapter everyone changes each other's names and it turns to chaos
Someone in this fic accidentally admits in groupchat they want to marry their girlfriend after being excited their girlfriend swore.
The best thing I did was ending the fic with Sue breaking the fourth wall
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I can read this in her voice.
So... does this fic deserve to be my most read?
I have no fucking clue. But one thing I do know is that I am hella good at writing chatfics.
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OH YES YES YES!! and Chet has this torrid will they or won't they with the lady with an orchard [and an illegal monkey? is that allowed? no it's not? hi? what the fuck why does she have a MONKEY??] a couple miles down the road
And perhaps Orym's moved down here - used to live upstate and work for the Tempest, but after Will died he couldn't bear it and needed a change of pace? Could be the rest of the EXU gang are he and Fearne's friends from the city who come down every now and again? I have no clue what Orym would do for work, though, any ideas?
FCG doesn't actually live in the area, but he's an online friend of Ashton's that's so deeply ingrained in peoples' lives that someone's almost always got a phone with Discord VC or just a phone call open with him. He texts Everyone 'Smiley Day To Ya :)' every morning
I? Like the idea of Ashton being a mechanic? Not in the tech savvy sort of way, but in the 'fuck John Deer I've pirated their software and I'm going to save you a fuckton of money fixing your damn machines like this' and also just slams and kicks things back into place/until they behave. It works somehow. If you need delicate work that doesn't involve giving a fuck you to the farm machine monopoly or hitting things you're shit outta luck though, sorry.
THAT'S SO GOOD
I imagine that Orym kind of floats between Chet and Imogen whenever they need help, but mostly he helps Fearne in the orchard. He also finds a lot of peace just doing that kind of labor and putting himself to use. I think the also that Imogen always asks him to be there when she gets new animals, especially horses that are going to be pretty spooked.
I think that FCG probably eventually moves out to the farm with everyone because he can do is work remotely after a while (he's a therapist) and everyone is so excited to meet him and also so surprised by how short he is.
And Ashton probably lives in Imogen's basement and it's technically his truck that they all use interchangeably because he's the only one with a pickup. And he's a bit of a reluctant mechanic because he understands how things work and everyone else is stupid to pay full price to replace or fix things when he can do it for a hot meal.
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