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it-happened-one-fic · 2 months

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It's Nice - Floyd

Author Notes: So. Just like with all Floyd fics this one has featured copious editing and has been trapped within my Google docs for quite some time as it underwent that lengthy process. But here it is. A premarital hand holding fic for Floyd. This fic was edited while I was listening to "They Don't Know" by Tracey Ullman which I can almost promise you influenced how this fic turned out. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ pre-marital hand holding/ romance implied/ sfw

Word count: 1365

I sat silently next to Floyd, watching as the unpredictable young man toyed with my hand and fingers.

Simply put, it was an odd way to pass time, but, according to Floyd, my hands were interesting.

And evidently enough, he did find them interesting. After all, the infamously mercurial merman was just sitting next to me, leaned over so that he was largely lying on the table in front of us as he reached over and toyed with my fingers. Apparently perfectly satisfied as he fiddled with them while simultaneously being beyond careful with them. Almost like he thought they were fragile or something.

It was almost enough to make me forget exactly why all of my classmates found Floyd to be a fearful entity.

My gaze slowly shifted to our hands as I pondered what exactly made my hands so uniquely interesting to him, and then the young man in question let out a giggle.

I frowned slightly, glancing his way questioningly as he sat up with a smile on his face as his eyes stayed on our hands.

I didn’t get to actually ask him anything though, since he opted to explain without any prompting, “Your hands are so teeny~ How do you get anything done?”

His two-toned gaze found mine as he teasingly questioned me, and I frowned at his words. Slipping one hand out of his grasp, I held it up to better inspect it for myself.

Sunlight streamed through my spread fingers, but, for all my careful looking, I could not find anything unique, interesting, or particularly small about my hands.

In fact, it just looked like a hand. Plain and simple. Nothing special or unique about it at all.

“Are they really that small?” My response came out as more of a murmur than anything, but Floyd still managed to hear it.

“Sure they are! Look,” As he spoke, one of his own hands wrapped around my wrist as he pulled my arm, and me with it, over so that he could flatten his left hand against my right one.

He leaned around our hands, which were now pressed palm-to palm, to look at me with a wide grin, “See?”

His eyes were glimmering at me as I focused on our hands and found that, sure enough, his hand was far larger than mine, with the tips of his long fingers clearly visible over the top of mine.

“Well, I guess in comparison…” I trailed off as I noticed Floyd’s expression shifting from playful to curious as he looked down at our hands and sat back so that he was now sitting directly in front of me.

Slowly, and almost carefully, his hand shifted until his fingers slipped in between mine and folded down over my hand.

He looked utterly fascinated as he carefully held my hand in his with his fingers slipped through the gaps between mine.

And, largely by instinct, I mirrored his motions. But instead of staring out our mismatched hands, I was watching him as I interlocked our hands and caused his eyes to go wide.

It was one of those moments where Floyd looked anything but scary. In fact, he stared at our interlaced fingers with an almost childlike innocence that confused me.

What was so special about holding hands?

He’d tugged me along after him, all but squeezing the life out of my hand along the way, so why…?

I stilled, with my questioning thoughts grinding to a halt, as I realized, with no small amount of surprise, that Floyd had never held my hand like this.

Instead of lacing our fingers together as they were now, he’d always simply wrapped his hand around mine. Enveloping it in his larger hand as if he were trying to completely hide it from view.

Perhaps it was to ensure he had a better hold on me, but then I’d always found that I had a better grip if I had laced my fingers through another person’s and locked our hands together in that fashion.

It was a wild shot in the dark, but I found myself eyeing the young man closely as I slowly began to question him, “Floyd, have you never….?”

I trailed off, not entirely sure how to finish my question. But Floyd evidently understood what I was asking since he nodded and responded fairly easily.

“In my mer-form, I’ve got finger webbing, so…” He trailed off, opting to continue to gaze at our hands before giving my hand a tentative little squeeze that had me wondering if this really was the same young man who usually gave out bone-crushing hugs and had what might be the most merciless grip I’d ever experienced.

Though, to be fair, whenever I received one of his squeezes, it was what he referred to as a ‘tiny squeeze’ and was more of a hug than the vice-like hold that he usually dubbed squeezes.

But instead of commenting on his typically crushing grip, I tentatively finished his sentence for him, “So you’ve never held hands like this?”

He nodded, his eyes still on our interlocked hands, with his dwarfing mine as he continued to hold my hand with a surprising amount of gentleness. Almost like he was afraid I would break or slip right from his grasp if he did anything else.

I frowned slightly as I watched him in silence, but it was a strange thought, because I didn’t think I’d ever outright run from him since our early meetings, when he’d been chasing me and making life generally difficult on Azul’s orders.

Since then, I’d gotten so that I was much closer to him and the other two young men of the Octavinelle dorm that had been involved at that time. Now I only ran from him in a more playful manner, though sometimes I was genuinely trying to get away from him; it was never out of fear.

But perhaps a stranger thought was the one of how he’d never held hands like this. Though it made sense in regards to the webbing he had in his merform, it was still strange to think that he’d never done so while on land.

He’d been here for a fair bit of time, after all. He was a second year here at Night Raven College already, and Azul had said they’d gone to some sort of boot camp when they’d come on land, so he’d had plenty of time to hold hands.

But perhaps the opportunity had never arisen. Either way, the novelty of holding hands like this did explain his quietness.

After just a few more moments of silence, his gaze lifted so that he was looking at me once more. An almost embarrassed smile crossed his face as he spoke once more, “It’s nice. Holding hands.”

He held up our interlocked hands as if to show me how nice it was, and I smiled at how our palms seemed to fit together like two puzzle pieces.

His hand was larger, but mine still fit perfectly in his palm, and our fingers interlaced like they’d found the perfect place to rest. Almost like it was meant to be.

It was almost laughable, in moments like this, to think that so many of the other students here at NRC thought I was insane to spend time with Floyd. But then, I supposed most people didn’t see this side of him.

And, with an odd degree of surprise, I realized that he was right. This was nice, holding his hand like this.

Floyd was always a mercurial person, and somehow that made quiet moments like this all the more special.

By no means did I have a problem with his playful nature, and I could understand his mood swings. I had bad days myself.

But when compared to the usually busy days of time here at school with him and all of my other friends, moments like this seemed oddly precious.

And perhaps that was why my smile spread the way it did, and I gave his palm a tiny squeeze and received a very careful one in return as soon as I softly responded, “Yeah… It is.”

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lovemari · 4 months

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IMPORTANT: Hello! My old account, Lovemari, got deleted. Therefore, I had to make a new one. I'm honestly pretty upset about this so I'll take some time to recover! Thankfully, all my posts are saved as I write them in google docs before posting. Please like and reblog so I can reach my old followers and potentially new ones!

Love & Care - Wanderer x Reader

Reminder: I'm not an experienced writer so construction criticism is always welcome! Also, I write for fun. I just wanted to share my work around the world!

You were no stranger to ugly looks and gossip at your high school. People found you hideous and odd, often avoiding you. You never knew why humanity could be so downright cruel.

Whenever you faced these problems, you talked to your boyfriend, Wanderer. You've only just recently dated him, but you feel like you could spend your life with him eternally.

Wanderer held your hand, resting your head on his shoulder as you let out all your pain. Although he was never one to understand emotions, he encouraged himself to understand yours.

The Wanderer would whisper words of comfort in your ears, letting you know that even though people may dislike you, he'll always love you.

It was later found out that the reason people are pressed about you is because of your relationship with Wanderer. He was always the campus crush and dating him would make girls jealous. Therefore, the girls often made you feel inferior, hoping you'd break up with your boyfriend.

You kept quiet about this. You didn't want to make Wanderer lash out on this group of individuals. You didn't want to be the reason for Wanderer's downfall.

Despite your efforts to keep quiet, Wanderer knew something was up. He often gave you notes in class, asking you what's the problem. You would say “nothing” even though you're not very good at lying, making his suspicion rise even higher.

At night, Wanderer visited your dorm. He crawled into your bed and turned off the lights, “(Name.)” He whispered, though his voice somewhat stern,“I know something's wrong.” He concluded. You took a heavy sigh, deciding it's time to spill the beans, “You know them?” You began, referring to the group of girls. Scaramouche nodded, “Yeah. Were they bothering you again?” He asked, cautiously. You shook your head, “Not exactly. You see, the reason they're bullying me is because they're jealous of us.” You concluded.

It took a few moments for Wanderer to process this. His eyebrows furrowed, “How stupid.” He hissed, “How dare they lash out on you..” He glared, sounding quite annoyed. You didn't have an answer. Wanderer gave you an assuring kiss, “Just stay away from them. Always remind yourself that they're only wasting their time being mad.” He assured you, wanting you to understand the fact that they're jealous of you and angry that you have what they could never get. You wrapped your arms around Wanderer, without saying a word.

You knew you found a good boyfriend, who not only cared about you, but also for you.

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sweetflanfiction · 11 months

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Second Chances

Universe: Read Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur x reader

Disclaimers and Warnings: *spoilers* My BF just finished the game and we couldn't bear Arthur moving on, so...I had to shift the plot a bit ahahaha... Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about 1899 is from google, so inacuracies will be plenty. The reader is on the older side, and identifies as a female.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

• ··········· • ············ •

You found him lying, unconscious, near the entrance of a shallow cave after chasing a runaway horse. Mac, your shepherd dog, kept barking and you thought it was the stalion that scared him, surprised to find a full grown man lying half dead on the rocks.

You got off your own horse and approached the man, rifle in hand and eyes darting back and forth, waiting for an ambush. He wasn't moving, his face wore a peaceful expression with his eyes closed. Faded bruises matted his face. The only thing telling you he was alive was his chest slowly moving.

Shushing Mac you poked the man with your boot, waiting for any movement or for him to open his eyes.

"Hey buddy?" You ask, shaking his leg with your foot. Nothing. "You need help or...?"

Taking a deep breath you shook your head and went back to your black horse, Dusk. You were about to mount up, your foot already on the stirrup, when you heard a groan and a cough.

"I...." You turned at the sound. His eyes were still closed. "...dead?"

Mac ran to the man and whined near him as you grabbed the water canteen from the saddle bag. You took three big steps to kneel next to him.

"Not yet, friend..." You poured a bit of water on his dried lips and he opened his mouth to drink some of it.

"Sick..." He coughed and you nodded.

"You want the doc?" You asked, moving his hair out of his forehead.

"He always had a plan..." He coughed again and turned limp.

Touching his neck, you could feel the faint rhythm of a heartbeat. You were torn between leaving here and taking him with you. He seemed sick and told you as much, but you couldn't leave a living being alone in this place, not with the night falling. You rubbed your forehead under your hat and groaned.

It wasn't easy making a makeshift stretcher, but you managed to do a decent job with the scarce resources around you. Looking at the man, he coughed softly and you grabbed your bandanna, wrapped it around your mouth and nose and walked closer to him. You started by grabbing his shoulders and dragging him to the improvised bed. He sure was heavy, taking a few minutes to get him on the stretcher and secure him. By the end you were sweating, breathing heavily, while the big man lay unconscious.

"I'm sorry mister, but I can't leave you here to die." You finally said apologetic and patted his shoulder, before mounting up and clicking your tongue making Dusk walk towards the ranch.

• ··········· • ············ •

His dreams were filled with forest creatures and voices, some familiar and some brand new. In his mind, he was already dead to the world and did not really care about much of anything. He found peace in the end. His deer friend was walking around him, closer than ever, so close he could almost touch the creature. A small bark scared the magical creature and the cowboy cursed.

• ··········· • ············ •

"Mac!" You hissed at the black and white dog who tilted his snout at his name being called. "Come on!"

The small animal happily walked out of the guest room, following you downstairs where you could hear two voices talking amicably. You turned the corner and walked into the parlor, smiling at the two men sitting there.

"Ah! Miss Graham. I was just telling your father that your guest seemed to have been the victim of a crime." Doc Brant smiled back at you. He was a tall and slender fellow, his thin face adorned with a curled mustache and small round glasses pinched on his nose. He was a friendly fellow, with a strange sense of humor, but no malice behind it.

"Really?" You scrunched up your face as you sat on the arm of your father's armchair, Mac finding his spot next to you, lying at your feet.

"Seems to have been the victim of an attempted drowning." He chuckled when he saw your eyes grow wide. "I'm just joking. His lungs seem to have a bit of trouble working. I can hear slight fuzzyness in his breathing and he seems to be fighting a fever..."

"Fuzziness in the lungs....TB?" Your father said between puffs of his cigarette.

His voice echoed fear. He was always scared of it, since your mom had passed from it. He was the opposite of the doctor. Big, brawny, tough farmer, manly man. His face held his years well and his cheeks were always rosy from the sun. He sat comfortably in his arm chair, one hand stroking the large greyhound beside the chair.

The doc tilted his head, his eyebrows raising a bit on his forehead as if thinking about something. His expression changed after a while and he shook his head in a convincing manner.

"Nah. If anything he seems to be coming out of a big round of the flu." He finished the glass of water he had in his hand and placed it on the table. "He might have been food for the coyotes if you hadn't picked him up."

"Well, if there's one thing Miss Graham over here is proficient at, it is picking strays." He joked, patting your leg.

"I don't remember you complaining before. 'Sides, every stray and get seems to help us up to this point." You smiled and fetch the glass. "Is there anything we can give the man to make him comfortable?"

"I'll get Mrs. Brant to make you some medicine today and you can pick it up tomorrow evening. Until then...just help him fight the fever with some cold water to his forehead and wrist. If it spikes too much, throw him into a tub filled with cold water. Also, he seemed dehydrated because of the fever and his previous address, so get him some water and some food that is watery."

You and your father nodded at the instructions. Your father pushed himself out of the armchair to walk the doc outside, while you headed to the kitchen, hearing Mac following behind you.

Mac was one of the many strays you brought back home. Your father always joked that you were a magnet for creatures in need. Cats, dogs, deer, horses, birds and now people seem to appear on your path when they need help. The dog at your feet limped towards you one day when you went to the general store in town. He was whining, his tail between his legs and could not, for the life of you, leave the pup there. The other dog, Luca, a big lanky hound that never left your father's side, wandered into the ranch one night, his ear half bitten off and his left eye blind.

"You reckon he's gonna survive?" You heard your father come inside the kitchen and sit at the table.

"Hope so..." You said honestly and turned to him, leaning your back against the simple kitchen counter. "You think his people left him to die on the rocks?"

"You said he was peaceful, so maybe he wanted to die there." You made a face at his words.

"I don't get why people quit fighting to live. According to the doc he had a flu. I had the flu, it ain't nothing to write home about..."

"You're lucky. Your momma was watching you up there." He pointed to the sky. "People die from the flu, you know that. Especially if they don't get treated. And he didn't seem to have any money on him. Maybe his people had left him there for their own sake."

"I know..." You sighed and grabbed a pot. "Chicken soup for dinner?"

You heard your father chuckle and stand.

"I'll get the eggs. Come on boys." He whistled to the dogs and both pets ran outside.

• ··········· • ············ •

The deer kept circling him, but every time he got close it ran away. He saw it lying down in a patchy grass meadow and walked determinedly towards it. The deer meant peace, a quiet death he didn't deserve, but craved. He deserved to die in a ball of fire for all the crap he had pulled, for all the shit he had endured.

Maybe that's why it ran. Because it knew he didn't deserve peace and quiet.

"I have a plan Arthur." He turned to the familiar voice, half in anger, half in fear.

• ··········· • ············ •

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #high honor arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfiction #ao3 #fanfiction

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fandomhype · 3 months

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Plagiarism Somerton

I obviously didn't watch the new James Somerton apology video ON his channel because I did not want to give that man the views and you shouldn't either! It has been re-uploaded and summarised elsewhere so that he doesn't benefit if anyone wants to see it.

The original hbomberguy video was wild to me because of all the stealing, I found it highly entertaining, loved all the Memes and it honestly did my imposter syndrome wonders! but then I watched the Todd in the shadows video and it really upset me.

He didn't just steal from other LGBT creators he lied to his mostly young LGBT audiance who were looking to an elder gay for guidance and to learn about their history.

Todd's video starts with a clip of James lies being spread by another person on a podcast, there's clips of people discussing his made up gay nazi fanfic he has presented as hard facts. He actively harmed his own community for cash! There are young gay men bringing that subject up in conversation being laughed at for falling for it and that leaves a really bad taste in my mouth.

Now I'm not a part of that community but a lot of people I love are so that angered me a lot.

...and then he comes back with another apology video, conveniently within the three months he would have had to post something on his channel to retain his monetisation status weirdly?! In which he blames both a head injury and his ADHD for his theft - at no point does he address the lying in either apology video or any of the apology posts he made that I could find.

I have combined ADHD, when I was first diagnosed the NHS referred to it as ADD with Hyperactivity element but everyone seems to have gone back to calling it ADHD and that is the term used most commonly online so that is what I refer to it is as.

I am medicated but there has been a world wide shortage of my medication and I was without it for some time over winter, which was HELL! I got nothing done.

I am in no way a big creator, Youtube for me is a fun wee hobby that will hopefully grow and allow me to collaborate with other people with similar interests but ADHD is for sure a large part of my journey as a creator.

I've published like 7 videos and currently have around 10 being worked on because, you know... ADHD! *siren noises*

I know that I am forgetful sometimes, just for the record I also had several head injuries and concussions as a child because Lil undiagnosed at the time me truly had no fear of climbing or other dangerous activities so I have my script (because free talking a subject with this brain would be nearly impossible) open in one google doc and my research open in another. It's not hard.

That's the way it was at school, college and Uni too. James claims he went to Uni to do business. Every university uses anti-plagerism software for essays and has done since like the mid 2000's? so he knows not to copy pasta. He's straight up lying there.

Another thing he's lying about is his ADHD making him forget he copied things. Now if you tell me a joke that I like it'll stick in my head and I will straight up tell it as my own later, I've been called out for this many times! But entire articles? whole sections of other peoples videos? (he also flipped a fan Vid he had ripped off of another YouTube to avoid detection and tried to pass it off as his own) No that's not something you can accidentally do even with a swiss cheese brain like mine.

Weirdly all the the paragraphs James claims he accidentally copied were also edited to remove aspects of the Trans, Bi and Ace experiences that James markedly does not believe exist. Strange considering he accidentally copied them and assumed they were his own words? Imagine going back through a paragraph you think you wrote yesterday in the edit the next day and finding swarths of things you don't agree with there?!

Why am I telling you all this? Well because I wanted to put my two cents in as a creator with this condition, partly because I felt it was somewhat of an attack on us!? He's put it out there that ADHD creators are liable to steal from others and that's not ok by me. Also I just really like the sound of my own typing!

TL;DR : James Sommerton is a suck ass liar and he doesn't get to use his disability as an excuse for what he did! and...

****** ADHD DOES NOT MAKE YOU STEAL SHIT!!! ******

Also watch Todd's Vid, everyone saw the Hbomberguy one but this one goes deeper:

youtube

#james somerton #actually adhd #james sommerton #hbomberguy

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bruhstation · 7 months

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Any fun facts on your bigg city cast you would like to share?

Can you share how you wrote fortezza bigg city. Such as inspiration and resources you found?

of course! I have a lot to share too (copy pasting some of these from my google docs, haha!)

their nicknames are their boats' names. conveniently, some of them are quite fitting for their sailors.

example: "ten cents" because he always asks to borrow a dime from his coworkers (and seldom returns them), "top hat" because he never goes anywhere without it, "hercules" because it's derived from his real name, "zip" because its both his given name and has a plethora of meaning in the dictionary (he was named first, then his boat), "boomer" because of its literal meaning and because he started going by his boat's unceremoniously changed name, etc.

they all refer to their boats with "she/her" pronouns.

zip doesn't know big words and talks simply and concisely. he knows how to read, though slowly, but is still learning how to write. he reads many children's books that are easy to digest in both story and words, like pollyana, pinocchio, heidi, the wonderful wizard of oz, and various children's fables. he also likes doing word puzzles like crosswords and word searches from newspapers.

zorran knows how to forge other people's handwriting, making him an even more valuable asset to captain zero.

top hat's family runs a boutique. he dresses and acts like an upper class socialite, much to his parents' disapprovement.

the bridge cafe is a popular hangout place for bigg city port's sailors. the members of the star fleet and z-stacks meet each other here coincidentally. navies also stuck around the bridge cafe when they got stationed in bigg city port like bluenose and grampus, much to the annoyance of everyone.

captain zero and captain star got married in 1909, at age 25. they got divorced in 1931, at age 47.

the reason? captain got involved with criminals for money, basically lying about his job as a normal, well-adjusted businessman who’s probably involved with bigg city port’s mafia or other mercenaries, so captain star divorced him. both because he’s a patriotic navy at the time and because captain zero has created more than enough lies for captain star to handle. other people got dragged into the aftermath of their divorce and lies. also they're not beating the mid dad allegations

captain star and captain zero rarely show up in person. they're very careful of their public appearance.

the z-stacks are part of something bigger. zip doesn't know this.

johnny cuba has some blackmail on captain zero.

ten cents and zip are thomas' grandparents.

zorran is diesel's grandfather.

regarding the story, here are some (fun) facts I want to share.

themes of names, youth, and freedom will be prevalent.

fortezza bigg city is set in 1938. the narrator is captain star. the stories are excerpts from his diaries.

if you’ve been following me for a while and paid attention to casa tidmouth, I aim to make FBC the foil to CSTM. it’s similar but also different to casa tidmouth. both feature regular, unremarkable people who are just doing their jobs while juggling with their environmental threat and conflicting relationships with their loved ones. the difference is that CSTM has more of a mystery urban fantasy feeling to it (gold dust, sodor's 70s tech in the year 1999, lady’s patrons who are keeping secrets from their loved ones, etc) while FBC has more of a realistic background to it (interwar era, criminal backgrounds, the great depression, etc)

the titles of both works are italian. casa means home. fortezza means fortress.

a lot of literature I've read are inspirations for fortezza bigg city. demian, catcher in the rye, moby dick, the little prince, l'etranger, watership down are some of them. emil sinclair's character and his relationship with frau eva and franz kromer helped me write zip. you can say that ten cents is his max demian wait who said that.

many of t*tsuki f*jimoto's works are huge inspirations for fortezza bigg city, and my works as a whole. ch*insaw m*n, g*odbye eri, m*rmaid rhapsody, and f*re punch are some of it. the way he writes adolescents and their complex relationships with their parental figures became a great help to me. I also write from my personal experiences and thoughts, especially regarding the captains' relationships with their youngest members. (here's some panels from g*odbye eri that stuck with me)

h*useki no kuni is also an inspiration, but its effects are not as big as the one in casa tidmouth.

many clothing resources are taken from vintagedancer, old magazines, photos, leyendecker's works, and even my university's library. here are some of my favorites.

despite the way I've described captain star's relationship with TC and captain zero's relationship with zorran+zip and the overall setting of it, I want FBC to have a more hopeful feeling to it. I have a vision of making FBC some kind of crime comedy (it's hard to describe the genres of my stories)

I think that's all I have to say for now!

#asks #isjssjsjshuuuuuuuuuuuuyyyyyyyyyy #this is tugs #fortezza bigg city

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writercole · 9 months

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Stay

Summary: Flight school teaches Bradley about more than just planes. Words: 1298 Warnings: angst, a lot of angst, MLM. A/N: If you don't ship Hangster, skip this. No beta. Mistakes are mine. A/N 2: I'm working on finding a replacement for google docs and it seems that I have some searching to do to be able to comfortably share my docs with betas. I'll figure it out at some point.

Part of my A to Z song challenge filling S - Stay by Black Stone Cherry.

Part 2

I do not consent to having my works translated, reposted, fed into ai, or otherwise taken. This is my intellectual property using characters owned by another. As I am not profiting off of this work, this is entirely legal and falls under free use.

The tarmac was scorching as Bradley Bradshaw stepped off of the plane. His lay over in Dallas saw him stuck behind a beautiful blond man with green eyes, one who wouldn’t stop flirting with the flight attendants. They ate up every second of his attention.

At baggage claim, he stood silent as the carousel began spinning, bags coming from the vinyl flaps sporadically. Heavy footsteps approached from behind and stopped beside him. Bradley looked out of the corner of his eye to see the green-eyed blond from the plane.

He was even more beautiful up close, slight freckles across his tanned skin. Bradley felt a stirring inside of him.

“Hey,” the man said.

Bradley turned his head and found that he was wearing the same gray tee as he was, emblazoned with NAVY across the chest. He nodded in acknowledgment, “hey.”

“I’m Jake,” the blond introduced, extending his hand out.

“Bradley.”

They shook hands and then dropped them, turning back to the spinning carousel, waiting for their bags to come around.

“Boot camp?” Jake questioned.

“Flight school.”

“Same.”

Silence fell over them once again, the luggage coming out faster and faster. “Nervous?” Bradley asked.

“A little. You?”

“A little.”

“Bus or Uber?”

“Uber,” Bradley responded quickly. “Busses make me want to puke. Besides, I’m not due on base until tomorrow so I’m going to grab a room nearby.”

“That’s my plan, too. Wanna share a ride?”

“Might as well.”

Their friendship only grew from that point on, getting to the point where they were inseparable. The life that they led in the military was a difficult one to make friends in and when they did, they tended to make it stick.

Until they started breaking off dates to hang out with the other.

That’s when Bradley realized he was falling fast for the cocky asshole that was nice to him. The one he’d close down bars with, the one who would drop everything at three am and hold him when his anxiety got the best of him. And that terrified Bradley.

He had no family left; his parents had both passed away and the only uncle he had betrayed him. But Jake had become everything to him and he didn’t know how to handle that.

“Hey, Brad,” Jake nodded as he sat next to the man in the theater.

Bradley murmured something absently, refusing to look up at Jake lest he see the preemptive rejection in his face.

“What’s wrong?” Jake asked.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“No, it’s...it’s nothing. Really,” Bradley insisted, his gaze meeting the intense stare from the man who had become his best friend.

Jake looked skeptical, like he knew that Bradley was lying, but before anything more could be said, the lights dimmed in the theater and the movie started.

Bradley couldn’t concentrate on the film, not when he could smell the intoxicating mix of Jake’s cologne with his natural musk. Not when he could feel the warmth of Jake’s knee centimeters from his own. Not when Jake’s hand landed on Bradley’s thigh.

Brad looked over and found Jake staring at him. Jake’s hand cupped Bradley’s face in the darkness of the theater then slid behind his neck, pulling him in while Jake crashed his lips into Bradley’s. Sparks flew between them as their lips moved against each other, hands caressing hungrily. Bradley pulled back and broke them apart with his hand on Jake’s chest.

“I – I’m sorry,” Jake sputtered quietly.

“Why?” Am I not enough? Am I not what you wanted?

“I misread the signals and I let my own feelings -”

“Shut up,” Bradley interrupted with a lopsided grin, pressing their lips together again.

The kiss changed things between them. No longer were they just friends and no longer did they spend their time with the other students. They would often sneak out and meet in parking lots or warehouses, hiding their affections from the world. Their little bubble was their own and no one needed to know, not if they were going to burst it.

Being out in the military was still a taboo thing and neither Jake nor Bradley were comfortable being the ones who got the short end of the stick, the ones where were given shit because of who they were attracted to. Rumors swirled about them, about how they had secret girlfriends in the city that they visited instead of hanging out with the people they were working with. Jake and Bradley let the rumors fly.

Graduating flight school was easy enough when they could study together and practice working with one another. There was a trust building and an ease with which they worked together in the air, predicting each others movements accurately more than a majority of the time.

The mission was billed as highly dangerous. Take out targets that were poised to invade a neighboring country. Bradley’s heart stopped when Jake was chosen as a team lead. He almost vomited when Jake chose him as wing man. Neither of them were ready for this.

Everything was going well. Until they were a click from their target and a bogey appeared.

“Rooster, evade!” Jake called through the comms, dropping the left wing of his jet and piloting down a bit.

“I can’t shake him,” Bradley panted. I’m sorry, Jake.

“ROOSTER. EVASIVE MANEUVERS. BREAK RIGHT.”

“Hangman…” I love you. I’m sorry. I didn’t want us to go this way.

The plea was cut off by the sound of gunfire and the screams of Jake as he watched smoke billow from the left engine of Bradley’s jet. Missiles deployed as Bradley scrambled to find a clear path to land in the debris that fell around him. The last thing he remembered as he ejected from the burning aircraft was Jake screaming ‘fuck your orders!’

Bradley couldn’t stand looking at Jake. He knew that the only reason he was alive was because of Jake’s insubordination and it wasn’t something he could handle. Jake disobeyed orders to save Bradley. Bradley knew what that meant; Bradley would have done the same thing.

But Bradley didn’t know love that way. And he was scared to learn.

The moment that he was released from the hospital, Bradley called Uncle Ice, a man he hadn’t spoken to in years, and begged for an immediate transfer. He was set to ship out on the next flight, less than two hours later. He tried to avoid Jake, preferring to disappear into the night. It didn’t work.

“You’re leaving?” Jake’s voice rang across the empty room as Bradley zipped his bag.

“New orders,” Bradley choked out. I can’t stay here. You’re a distraction.

“Liar.”

Bradley hung his head. Jake knew what was happening. Jake knew Bradley better than he knew himself. “I can’t.” I can’t love you like you deserve.

“Is it because of the mission?”

“Partly.”

“I couldn’t let you die, Bradley.”

“And I can’t be the man you think I am.”

"I know that you're afraid," Jake whispered, "but I'd rather have what I can with you, whatever you're able to share, than not have you at all. I love you, Bradley. Please, stay." "I -" Bradley sighed, his heart swelling then shattering as he realized what this would be. "I have to go. I can't do this with you. I'm done. We're over. No more." I can’t leave you like my father left my mother. I can’t become her, either. Bradley turned away, pretending not to hear Jake's feeble voice calling his name, trembling as he begged Bradley to stay. Bradley kept walking, grabbing his bag and walking out of the door, letting it shut with his fears. Too afraid to let his parents down. Too afraid of what everyone would think. Too afraid of not being normal. Too afraid to stay.

Part 2

#writercole #hangster #a to z song challenge #stay #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #hangman #rooster #hangman seresin #rooster bradshaw #hangman x rooster #rooster x hangman

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lakesparkles · 9 months

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LiS True Colors fanfic (prologue)

Terrible title, I know lmao, but it doesn't have an actual title yet. I'm finally ready to start sharing my fanfics, this being the first one here.

The main idea was "what if Alex had Max's powers too?" because I wanted to write a time travel story, basically. It starts after the ending of the game, but not an official one, I guess? I kinda mixed two of them. The beggining of the fic will be more Alex/Steph but there are a lot of mentions of Alex/Ryan in this prologue too.

Last thing is that English is not my main language so sorry for any mistake! Here's something I drew for it:

You can read it on this google doc or under the cut: (1424 words)

Prologue

Alex doesn't understand how doing exactly what she wanted can be so scary

What if Alex had Max's powers?

---

The bus gave a sudden lurch, and Alex had to catch herself from falling off the seat. For that measly second, her mind returned to the real world, looking around. Beside her, Steph was going through the same thing, cursing under her breath as she returned to her previous position.

Then it ended.

Her attention immediately returned to the window, her cheek resting on her hand. Outside, the trees and mountains were farther apart. Different. Quite different from Haven Springs. The realization of that knocked her over again, making Alex swallow hard as she began to think about how her own decision hadn't made her as satisfied as she'd hoped.

Maybe it was because she didn't think it would happen so soon. I mean, Alex was never an optimistic person. Far from that. Because optimism never made her life easier. However, part of her had found small hopes just a few weeks ago, when she'd been on a bus much like this one: seeing Gabe again could be weird, but could also be good. She could find connections, comfort, and everything else she'd lacked before. She could make Haven Springs her home.

She would be lying if she said that things didn't turn out the way her more unrealistic self imagined.

And again, even that hadn't gotten her anywhere. For there she was, heading towards the opposite side of the country, just as she had started.

Alex sighed, burying her face in her hand.

"Look," Steph's voice made her reluctantly focus on something that was not her thoughts, "you might be the one among us who reads minds... Buuuuut something tells me you'd have a blue stain around you right now ... It's blue, right?

A second sigh came out of Alex's throat, but this time, she too turned her head and smiled slightly. A sad smile:

"I am really sorry. I think I'm kind of tired."

"But already?" Steph didn't seem convinced, "It's the first hours of our incredible journey! When we're in Pennsylvania you won't even be able to stand up then!"

There was a certain good humor in her voice, which Alex appreciated. She was already tired of all the disguised judgments she had received in the last few days in that city.

"You're really used to traveling, huh!?"

"I prefer to believe that I wasn't born for only one city!" Steph closed her eyes in a dramatic pose, pointing at herself.

It was lovely. Alex's smile rose a few inches, until she noticed the blue stain start to appear around the other one. It was small and lasted a few seconds. Alex even tried to avoid reading Steph's thoughts, but it was almost involuntary: as none so far made me feel like I should.

"I'm with you on this one!" Alex laughed awkwardly.

She knew her thoughts would take over again. So she didn't even turn her face to the window. Instead, she slowly laid down on Steph's shoulder, giving the other woman enough time to stop her if she wanted to. But of course Steph didn't move a muscle, just resting her head on Alex's.

The contact was still awkward. Something she knew she would need more time to get used to. It was just one of the many consequences of growing up with little affection. She now avoided and begged for it in equal measure. It was like that when she hugged Gabe for the first time after meeting him again: awkward, out of place and strangely nice.

She felt her brother's affection in unusual ways, being when she discovered that he had bought a guitar as a gift, days before she arrived; or when everyone in town spoke to her with a certain familiarity during her first week there. "Gabe couldn't stop talking about you!", Ryan confessed one afternoon that he spent at her apartment, "He guaranteed that everyone would love you! He said that you could form a band with Steph. That you wouldn't even complain about watching the boring documentaries I liked. Scary how right he was... And now I understand why he thought that...".

Every time she talked about Gabe with Ryan, she felt a warm feeling in her chest, in a way she knew she wouldn't feel with anyone else. The two understood each other and expressed their love for Gabe through each other as well. It made that anything but real, as if they were just two old friends reminiscing about stories and would soon see Gabe again.

Affection for Alex often took that form: being able to pretend everything was fine with someone else.

At that very moment, Alex had her legs on top of Ryan's. He gently placed his hand on her knee, lightly caressing the area. Something so small and ordinary and…weird. She didn't know if she liked it, and it made her uneasy.

She wanted something real and different from the feelings she'd stolen from someone else. And she knew reality was always a little scary, so she seemed to be on the right path.

It intensified when she handed him the rose at the festival, her heart beating a mile a second. Even worse when she kissed him for the first time, the gold and purple mingled in him as well as her. She was close enough to feel everything that went through his mind. It was always a mixed bag, just like it was with Alex. Confused. Scary. New. Comfortable.

Maybe all that fear wasn't so bad after all.

Purple certainly followed her through the rest of that short relationship.

She saw how Ryan was paralyzed as she confronted his father. Or when he himself yelled at her, telling her to stop it.

Ryan didn't believe her.

It wasn't the anger she was so used to that washed over him as he refused her touch, almost as if he was disgusted with her. Or when he started avoiding her for the next few days, his guilt prevented him from even getting close.

No. It wasn't anger. Or sadness.

It was fear.

Now Alex couldn't help but think of everything from the start. At all the other times that emotion was present.

Maybe it wasn't as normal as she wanted to believe it was.

"It's like this in the beginning!" Steph's voice again brought her back to the real world.

Alex needed a few seconds to even understand what was said:

"Huh?"

"This weird bus adrenaline! It's always kind of sad, at least it was like that for me too" She said while practically rubbing her face against Alex's, "But let me tell you a secret: Salem will never be the best part! We have many places to visit even before there!"

"Is that talk about 'the true treasure are the friends you made along the way?"

Steph lightly punched her arm, even though she was laughing:

"I'm serious, okay? The good part is that we'll never know if Salem will really be our final stop. Maybe we'll walk into a hotel in the middle of nowhere in Ohio and decide that's where we belong."

"Is that what happened when you stopped in Haven Springs?"

"No..." She admitted, "But that hope always wanted to get me out of there."

Alex still appreciated how much the other tried to cheer her up, so she decided to shrug her shoulders, giving up:

"Who knows, right? We might not even stop anywhere! Let's just keep traveling. We just need to get temporary jobs to buy a van."

"Then we can make a short list: ‘places to visit before death'! We will travel the country!"

"And then we'll go down to Latin America. Somewhere has to be our place."

"Or no place will ever be our place!"

"You make it look like a good thing." She chuckled.

"You understand me, Alex."

That simple sentence cut the conversation short. Alex lifted her head from her shoulder, then made eye contact with Steph. She had said the last sentence simply, as if she was joking. However, the way she was looking at Alex now, it was as if she had confessed to something much bigger, which she had been keeping inside for a long time.

The color purple washed over Steph.

Alex smiled.

Maybe she wasn't so wrong about affection and love.

#my writing #life is strange true colors #alex chen #steph gingrich #ryan lucan #at this point I don't even know if it's good or not #I only know that writing the next scene is being hard already so I decided to make the first scene a prologue #it's ridiculous how nervous I am about sharing this

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coffeebanana · 1 year

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Apparently I'm raiding my google docs for snippets I wrote months ago and probably won't ever continue (I might as well share them though!). This is post-HM core four fluff. CW: mentions of depression

*** “Quit stealing all the pillows!” Alya yelled before playfully whacking Marinette with a giant teddy bear.

Marinette stuck out her tongue. “I’m not stealing them, I’m arranging them nicely for all of us.”

“Uh-huh. And that’s why they’re all on your side of the blanket?”

“I mean, they are right now. It’s not like I’ve claimed the whole side to myself.”

“So you won’t mind if I go lay down on that pile?” She pointed to the highest stack of pillows.

“Of course not. I mean—wait, not yet! I still need to—Alya!”

Adrien smiled, resting his head against the back of the couch as he watched them bickering. Marinette caught his eye a few seconds later, grinning widely and making him feel warm all over. Nino sat beside him, unaware of the world as he stubbornly searched through his photos for a meme he apparently had to show Adrien (and no, apparently it couldn’t wait).

It baffled Adrien that they were doing all this for him.

He still felt sort of numb most days, his father’s crimes and the uncertainty of his own existence looming over him. But today…today was okay. Today his friends were building a blanket fort just because they wanted to make him smile.

Granted, there had been very little progress in the actual building process, but the smell of cookies baking and the sound of laughter made up for that.

Marinette soon gave up on hoarding pillows and crawled over to sit beside him. Adrien easily tossed an arm around her and pulled her in closer, his heart skipping a beat as she sighed contentedly.

“You okay?” She asked a few seconds later. “You’ve been quiet.”

Adrien squeezed her shoulder. “I’m good. Just taking it all in.”

She hummed in response and cuddled in closer. “Let me know if you need anything?”

“I…” He’d meant to say he would, but there was maybe a fifty percent chance of that being true, and he didn’t feel like lying. “I’ll try.”

Panic coiled in his gut as Marinette pulled back a little, searching his expression. But she just smiled and kissed him lightly.

“I’m proud of you.” She whispered the words against his lips before pulling back with a smile.

Now, Adrien definitely felt like a fraud. Because he was certain he hadn’t done anything worthy of her pride lately. Some days it took him hours to even get out of bed. He barely went outside. He couldn’t even remember if he’d showered that morning.

“Why?” he asked.

She tucked a strand of hair behind his ears—it was getting long, but he kind of liked it that way—and regarded him steadily. “Why not?”

For some reason that sank in, even though barely anything did these days. He couldn’t understand why anyone would be proud of him, yet it hadn’t occurred to her not to be?

He didn’t realize his eyes felt wet until Marinette reached up to wipe a tear, her forehead pinched in concern. She opened her mouth—no doubt to ask him for the millionth time if he was okay—when Nino cut her off.

“Yes!” He pumped his fist in triumph, leaning forward and waving his phone. “Found it! You gotta—dude, what’s wrong?”

Adrien shook his head, because nothing was wrong. Everything was perfect, really.

He hadn’t felt so safe and loved and free in longer than he could remember.

Ironically, his words remained trapped in his throat. Instead of trying to explain, he just pulled Marinette back to his chest and buried his face in her hair when she squeezed back tightly.

It didn’t take long for Nino and Alya to pile into the hug too, and for once, Adrien wasn’t ashamed to be a sobbing mess.

For once, he was certain he was happy.

#miraculous ladybug #core four #ficlet #coffeebanana writes #cw depression #healing #friendship #long post #miraculeakless

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jbunnyxo · 13 days

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To The End of The Earth & Across the Seven Seas (Son Goten x Bulla Briefs)

Warnings/tags: soulmate AU, lots of angst, mature themes, drug usage, etc.

Author's note: I haven't published/written anything new in a long time, so please excuse any shit writing. I've had this piece stored in my Google docs since forever and decided to edit it as best I could before posting. Please be nice!

Read on AO3

❝I want to leave on you evidence that I existed.❞

His presence resembled that of a force of nature and it demanded to be felt, like an uncontrollable blazing fire engulfing it's exhausted prey and surrounding it in its scorching clutches. She had been made to feel oblivious as to what she was truly falling into. It felt like a horrid and dreadful nightmareーor perhaps it was just a mere distinct form of reality disguised as a magnificent dream, she thought, that only existed inside of her head. She couldn't exactly decipher which it was as she lost herself in the illusions he had managed to summon to ruse her to eat out of the palm of his hand.

Whatever it was, it was inexplicably addicting and each hit left her aching for more. He had made her veins rush with an adrenaline that was far more superior than any high a mere drug could give her. Her blood coursed with the purest feeling of lust as he reeled her in with just the tips of his fingers; his sadistic grin and charming personality a mere illusion to distract her from who he truly was underneath.

He had disguised his vicious poison into a miraculous remedy; manipulating it into her bones and weakening her from the inside out. With just a mere drop, the impact brought her down to her breaking point like a ticking time bomb preparing to explode and obliterate everything in her wake. Even so, she found herself irrevocably marveling at his immense complexity and in the darkest corner of her mind, it felt as though all of the stars and planets alike had perfectly aligned for them in this very moment in time. He had entranced her with his fabricated deceptions in the most elegant way possible; like a melody playing on and on inside of her head.

He had a death grip on the atoms and stardust that made up her entire being and she would be lying if she denied that every ounce of her heart was entirely and forever entangled with the strings that made up his own. But their red strings were never meant to be woven into one by the fates. Nevertheless, she could have sworn to the heavens above that she felt their souls relentlessly intertwine for just a mere fraction of a moment and gravitating towards each other with an otherworldly magnetic force ever so powerful they couldn't help but become utterly compelled by its intensity. Falling for this disguised tornado of a man was the last thing she anticipated, but falling from the good graces of the gods was ever so exquisitely destructive; the essence of chaotic fate. How could heaven save one of their own angels who had willingly fallen into the arms of the devil himself?

It had occured all within a blink of an eye; much too swiftly and unable to give her a chance to escape. Every cell and fiber of her mere being wailed in pure and utter affliction as her mind kept relentlessly gnawing at her, but she was far too defenceless to cease it. And then, all at once, everything came collapsing down in pieces before her.

The everlasting bond between the two souls had been severed in two. Her life revolved around him until it didn't and the world was swept right from under her feet, leaving nothing but smoke and mirrors in its wake. The despair of losing him had pierced a hollow hole inside of her soul and made her wish for her own end. She had let the agonizing grief of losing him encase what was left of her heart like the absence of the sun. The pain she had been forced to endure pulsed with wrath and fury, but it was the only evidence that everything was real; he was real.

And if there were anything that was worse than the searing fires of hell, she was living it in this very moment; struggling for air as his magnificent form held her down. Not even the ancient Egyptian sands could turn back the hands of time as her heart froze underneath the bitter ice; its beats becoming as fragile as her shattered dreams. He was full of endless wonders and she wanted nothing more than to explore them. Now she knew what true love felt like and she wished that she didn't because when she loved, she poured every ounce of her being that she had to offer. She loved passionately and unconditionally and that, in itself, was her fatal and inferior flaw.

Forbidding herself from ever being truly happy, she reluctantly decided to seal herself away from the pain and what better way than to live inside a black and white world? Falling in loveーor the idea of fallingーwas a thought that terrified her to the bone, but living inside this dull and agonizing world was the only way she knew how to keep her heart guarded and protected; stopping at nothing to save it from falling into the pit of her stomach. It was untouched ground for her and exploring it meant facing the unknownーsomething that was much more frightening than falling.

But seeing him standing there in front of her like a flashing bolt of lightning was the simultaneous moment when she ultimately realized that she was in love with him. She was in love with the color of his eyes and the way they lit up his breathtaking features. She was in love with the sound of his deep voice and the way her name rolled off his tongue. She was in love with his smile and the way that simple action gave her strength to continue fighting for the happiness that only he could bring out in her. She wanted to memorize the slope of his nose and the line of his chiseled jaw. She wanted to touch the shade of his full lips with her own and run her fingers down the tone of his soft tanned skin. She wanted to memorize every nook and every cranny of his body. She yearned to learn what made him smile and what made him happy. She yearned to learn what made him angry and what made him sad. She yearned to learn how his beautiful mind worked. She was desperate to analyze every hidden part of him and every atom of his being, right down to the stardust lingering within his bare soul.

She needed so desperately to reach down deep inside of him and ignite him from within. She needed so desperately for him to feel the same love she did. She wanted to be the one who he woke up to each and every morning. She wanted to be the one who he held in his arms each and every evening. She desired to become his world, as he had become hers.

She desired so desperately to shatter him in the most ravishing way imaginable. She wanted to know him on a deeper level entirely. She wanted to be the one who he held in his arms when he felt like his world had crumbled down and he couldn't reach for oxygen. She wanted to be the shoulder he cried on when he was too crestfallen to form coherent thoughts. She wanted to become his incandescent sun and shine upon him when it felt like all of his strength had abandoned him. She wanted to become his moon and illuminate the dark skies when it felt like all hope was lost. She wanted to be the one who he shared his own private universe with.

She was desperate to unravel him in the most sensual of ways. She wanted to know about his childhood and the reason why he considered his father his hero. She wanted to listen to the ongoing stories about him and his siblings and what made them the best of friends. She wanted to listen to the story of when his father took him to his first martial arts tournament. She wanted to know about the first time he fell in love and how it felt to have his first broken heart. She wanted to know about the first time he had been caught drinking underage and the first time he had snuck out after curfew to have an adventure. She wanted to know about every experienceーgood, bad, and indifferentーhe has ever had and experience them herselfーall at once. She wanted to know who he truly was underneath and find the man whose smile, for the first time ever, flashed her world with vivid and vibrant colors; brighter than both the sun and sky combined.

She desired nothing more than to fade into him and become whole again by leaving no trace that one was once two. She wanted their hearts to beat in synchronized rhythm with each other and their breathing to merge into one single motion. She would travel to the end of the earth and across the seven seas, if only it meant that they could be together until eternity's end. Ultimately, she thought, she wouldn't mind losing herself in the transcendent sensation of drowning within him.

The only thing that was worse than existing in this world without a evident purpose, was the fact that she had come to the utterly terrifying and gut wrenching conclusion that her beaten and battered heart was merely just another broken piece of the collateral damage left behind from his entrancing deception and she would never be the same after her world was struck down by his blinding flash of lightning.

Love, she had come to realize a little too late, was all consuming. It had paralyzed her down to her deepest core and tormented her with its unbearable intensity. Loving him was the most exquisite form of self destruction. Loving him came as easily as breathing for her. It always had. How was she ever expected to go back to holding her breath?

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF MY WORK.

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #dragon ball super #dbz #dbs #goten #son goten #bulla briefs #bra briefs #goten x bulla #goten x bra #dbz fanfiction #dragon ball fanfiction #soulmates #soulmate au #my writing #jbunnyxo writes #jbunnyxo

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wormdolls · 28 days

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Nail-Biter

I found an old story in my Google Docs from last year that I actually enjoyed re-reading. I might rewrite it one day but as of right now I'm not doing anything with it, so I figured I might as well post it here. I hope y'all enjoy!

I used to bite my nails.

Usually when I say this, people start to reassure me that they do so as well, and that it’s not anything to be ashamed of. What they don’t realise is this: when I say I used to bite them, what I really mean is I used to chew them down into pink stubs, tearing right into the quick, and nibble at the skin around them too. Frankly it’s incredible I didn’t get an infection from that old habit, but my fingers were always red and sore, with a tendency to bleed. But I kept biting. Whenever I was nervous, or agitated, or even just a little absentminded, my teeth would find my fingers and bite them until I physically couldn’t anymore. Then I would feel stupid and insecure for having such a shameful habit.

I used to joke about it, too. Whenever my more fashionable friends commented on their own nail polish, I would feel the need to bring up those little warped gravestones on my fingertips, as if by drawing attention to them they would become less of a burning point of inadequacy for me. I’d go even further and say I took pride in that rather ruinous part of my personality.

One day things changed—or more accurately, I forced the change upon myself. I went out and bought myself a tiny little bottle of black nail polish. That set me on a vague path to recovery, forcing me to consider whether it was worth wasting nail polish just for that momentary relief. It wasn’t an overnight change by any means, and I definitely chewed off more coats than I care to admit (and accidentally consumed more polish than can possibly be good for someone) but it gave my poor hands a chance to heal and made my nails much easier to look at in the process.

Months went by and my nails were now at a decent length for the first time in my life. It may sound trivial to some, but I felt good flaunting my progress, and they looked even better. I had even graduated to various other colours. It feels ironic that on the morning that changed I was painting them black once again. I was just finishing my pinkie finger when my phone rang, almost scaring me into smudging them. I answered knowing full well it would be my mum—nobody else would call when a single text would suffice. Sure enough, I heard the sour notes of her voice greet me. She sounded upset, and since I was unclear on whether I was the cause, I decided to treat her as one treats a landmine.

“Hi, mum.” My voice rose a few notes and I winced, blowing absently on my nails to dry them. “Is something up?”

“I’m just wondering,” I flinched at the accusatory tone—so I was the cause after all, though I’d be lying if I said I knew what I’d actually done, “Why exactly have you been lying to me.”

“Lying about what?” I said, but my mouth was dry and my chest was starting to fill with fear. I began to raise my hand to my mouth.

“Lying about your boyfriend. Or do you not remember? Come clean, Alice, I know you’ve not really been seeing him.”

“No mum,” I mumbled through my fingers, “I told you I stopped.”

I heard her irritable sigh through the phone and felt my ribs tighten. Mum always had liked my boyfriend much better than I had, enough that when we broke up she refused to listen to my reasons and instead insisted we still see each other. I may have told her, aeons ago, that Maybe We’d Try It Out Again, but I certainly hadn’t told her I was seeing him nowadays. She continued to sink her talons of disappointment into my brain with her next words.

“I don’t know why you didn’t stay with him. He was the best you’re ever going to get.” These words made my sore eyes overflow, and I started to sniffle. I don’t remember the rest of that dismal conversation. In all honesty I was just trying to get off the phone as fast as I could, but what I do remember is that when I did put the phone down, I realised that my hand was now free of polish and that my fingertips looked red and wet with spit. I almost howled in outrage—it was just like that woman to take my one good accomplishment and turn it against me.

In the next few weeks, I tried everything to set myself back to rights, but it was all for nought. As my mother’s words played on repeat in my head, my mood sank lower and lower, and my nails seemed to get shorter and shorter. My fingertips started bleeding again. I stopped wanting to show them off.

It all culminated in one particular night. It was raining outside and instead of being out with friends, I was just staring at the wall of my bedroom and biting relentlessly on what remained of my fingers. I could feel the warmth of blood trickling down my hand as I tore into my flesh but I couldn’t stop. My face was numb. Everything was numb, all sensation centred on my hands, as I ripped into them like a starved animal. My breathing sounded weird. My eyes were tearing up. The sensations intensified and I started to pant, sweat dripping down my face. And then…I wrapped my hands around the first bottle of nail polish I could find, and stared at it hatefully. If I hadn’t started painting my nails, I wouldn’t have had the fragile illusion of recovery, and I wouldn’t be stuck in this rut now, feeling so weak and helpless and…and…

Crash.

I don’t allow myself to be around my nail polish anymore. I scrubbed for weeks, but the neon green is never coming out of that wallpaper. I don’t really care anymore though. My fingers are worse than ever and I’m pretty sure one of them is swelling up, but I don’t care about that either.

I just can’t stop biting my nails.

#short story #tw: injury #tw: body horror #I guess #writeblr #creative writing #writing community #writeblr community #short story writing #tw: blood mention #ArkWrites

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cerealmonster15 · 7 months

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I’m acting on a whim and posting some unfinished(?) fanfic stuff I wrote like a year ago. Part of my many branches of caterella aus that has vague reference to one of my rsa ocs (dañarte)… but with a cater/idia main plot with jamil/azul happening in he background. My blurbs ended in a bit of a sad spot BUT it was always the intention in my mind that there would be happy resolutions 🙏 these were just little things I wrote for my friend and me bc it was an au we talked about…

Context: idia and cater are bonding, but only online over magicam, and idia is kinda catfishing cater (though not maliciously). when i was trying to name my original rsa oc (char) and looking at names, eppa was one of my initial possible choices. It was maybe my friend who had the idea initially of idia having a fake, RSA princely identity that cater gets to know over magicam?

Eventually I picked char for my actual guy, and dañarte became his cousin via me making typos and more discord sillies lol, but prince eppa became a pseudonym for idia and created another branch for the story. I’ve talked a bit about the dañarte lore and some of that comes into play here. Char I guess would too but I don’t think he got mentioned anywhere lol sorry buddy. But ya idia is pretending to be a prince at rsa named eppa who “secretly likes video games” or whatever I think lol. Idia likes his bond with cater but can’t even begin to think of how cater would react if he found out idia was lying to him.

Anyway. This is more cater/idia (and board game boys friendship) focused than anything (lots of idia pov pining lol) and idk if anyone would wanna read it but I’m putting it here to record keep anyway. No ao3 Bc It’s very unedited and unfinished and just kinda blurb writing lol

But it’s the only time if technically written for caydia. And I do like it. It’s just embarrassing bc I get embarrassed with my oc things and my love for romance drama but i guess I’ve been exposing more of it lately lol… shout out to anyone who recognizes the fic I’m referencing that I DID post lol.

Anyway. Copy pasted from my Google docs:

Idia’s computer pinged as a message appeared on screen.

C.Dia - eppa, are u awake?

Idia looked at the clock, startled. It was 3AM… Idia was still up because he was grinding a new event in one of his many, many, many games, but what the heck was Cater Diamond doing up at this hour? Had he just gotten back from a party?

PrinceEppa: ya, why r u tho? It’s crazy late lol

C.Dia: lol ikr

C.Dia: i just cant sleep rn >.<

PrinceEppa: how come?

C.Dia: i got into a fight w/my bf again…

Idia sighed at his computer. Right… Cater’d started dating that prettyboy from RSA.

PrinceEppa: 0~0 thats like the third time this month…

C.Dia: ya ik ;-;

Idia fiddled with the strings on his hoodie. He didn’t really know if his heart could take hearing Cater talk about another guy, but the thought of Cater laying around sad and alone made him ache just as bad… But what was he supposed to say in times like these? Idia didn’t know anything about comforting someone about relationships! He barely talked to people in general!

Thankfully, Cater kept going and spared Idia the anguish of trying to figure out what to do next.

C.Dia: are u going to bed rn?

PrinceEppa: no lol ill be up for a while longer.

C.Dia: royalty keeps busy at all hours huh?

Idia tensed at the mention of his lies.

PrinceEppa: something like that. Balancing the princely duties and the princely gamer sessions is tough work 😌

C.Dia: LOL. never change eppa <3

His face grew warm, a bittersweet swelling filling his chest.

C.Dia: can u chat with me a lil longer then?

C.Dia: tell me about ur day or ur games or w/e? I kinda just want a distraction, i dont really wanna be alone rn

C.Dia: if ur not busy anyway >.< it’s oki if you wanna focus on ur gamer mode lololol

Idia paused for a moment, before moving his mouse and closing out of his game. The rest of the event grind could wait.

PrinceEppa: im never too busy for you, cay.

C.Dia: thx <3

Sometimes, even for the prince of otakus, there were more important things than gaming…

But only when those things were really, really, really special.

“I heard Cater and that RSA boyfriend of his broke up.” Azul spoke after several minutes of silently moving chess pieces around the board.

Idia frowned. “Don’t try and use that as a distraction from the game just because I’m winning.”

Azul kept his face neutral so as not to betray any bluff he might have. “Perish the thought. I just thought his sweet prince eppa would be interested in such information.”

“SHH!” Idia hissed. “Not so loud! Besides, I-I already know. He told me…”

Azul raised an eyebrow. “He told you, or he told Eppa?”

Idia focused on the chess piece he moved. “Same thing.”

Azul sighed as he took his own piece and contemplated his next move. “Hardly. Honestly, how can you ever expect to move your relationship forward if you don’t unmask yourself? All this bonding will be for nothing if you don’t use it to the full extent!”

Idia rolled his eyes. “I don’t wanna hear it from you of all people. How long have you been saying you’re gonna ask Jamil out?”

It was Azul’s turn to shush Idia, face reddening. “How is that even relevant?!”

Idia grinned. “Cuz you keep going on and on to me about how I should be more confident with Cater, but you won’t even take the plunge with Jamil! Hypocrisy much?”

“I’m simply waiting for the right time. I would be a fool if I didn’t stick with my patient strategy of getting him to warm up to me before striking! Move too early, and I’ll undo all my progress…”

Idia sighed, thinking back to all the hours he’d spent DMing Cater under a fake name. They’d gotten quite close, but as far as Cater knew, Idia was still that vague acquaintance in the back of his classes.

If he messed up by telling him his identity at the wrong moment, or didn’t phrase it right…

“Lost progress… that’s exactly what I’m afraid of…”

“Idia!” Cater’s cheerful voice called out as he approached the lecture hall desks. “You’re in person again today; that’s three for three this week!” He spoke with a smile as he slid into the seat next to Idia.

Idia jumped at the sudden appearance of his classmate. “O-oh, uh, yeah…”

“Oh, B-T-W, did you hear that Azul and Jamil were on a date Friday night?” Cater said in a half-whisper, leaning close to Idia’s ear.

“Uhh…” Idia didn’t really know how to answer that. Sure, he knew Azul had some overly complicated date-but-not-a-date plan to get Jamil to hang out with him, and then ask him out for real, but how did Cater hear about…?

“I was hangin’ out with the pop music club on Friday when Ruggie texted Kalim that he was serving their table! Isn’t that just crazy?”

Ah. Kalim and Ruggie. That explained it all.

“I mean, I always wondered if those two had something goin’ on, y’know? Like, they had that ‘will they, wont they, playing hard to get’ kind of vibe. Super cute, if you ask me.”

Idia wasn’t really sure that ‘cute’ was a good way to describe anything those two were involved in, but he simply nodded his head along to Cater’s blathering, as he discreetly pulled his phone out of his pocket and switched to his Prince Eppa magicam account, reading the messages from that morning.

PrinceEppa: howre u feeling?

C.Dia: like total trash lol…..

C.Dia: ik he was a jerk but like i miss him, yknow??

C.Dia: or maybe i just miss having someone there. And its almost valentines day lol. Shit timing amirite?

PrinceEppa: that really does suck… im sorry, cater.

C.Dia: thanks, it’s oki tho. Better to get it overwith lol

C.Dia: i really dont wanna get out of bed or go to class…

PrinceEppa: mood

PrinceEppa: u really should tho. Ik it’s hard but itll feel worse if u stay there all alone

C.Dia: urk. Idk if i have the energy to be around people today

PrinceEppa: tbh i get that… i dont rlly wanna go face people either today…

PrinceEppa: how about we try it together?

C.Dia: i wish u went to my school so we really could go to class together <3

C.Dia: but oki. I'll try, for you :)

PrinceEppa: :)

If Cater really was feeling as bad as he felt, he was pretty good at hiding it with that blinding smile and bubbly laughter.

Sure, Idia’s first instinct would be to immediately enable anyone that wanted to spend the day hiding in bed, but… The thought of Cater lying alone in the dark with his thoughts just made Idia sad.

And, if he did that, Idia wouldn’t get to see him in class today…

“Oooh, do you think Azul and Jamil are gonna go out again on Valentine’s day?”

That depends on what Jamil answered on Azul’s questionnaire, Idia thought to himself. He was sure he’d get a full report from Azul later that day at their next club meeting.

Cater sighed. “Another Valentine’s day, and Cay-Cay’s single yet again!” He smiled, but Idia felt that his eyes weren’t lit as bright as they normally were as he spoke. “But, I’m sure some of the boys at Heartslabyul will be hangin’ around like always. It’s never lonely when you live with friends!” He turned to face Idia again. “What about you, Idia? Any steamy plans for Valentine’s day?”

“U-uh…” Idia started fiddling with his hair. It was now or never. ‘A-Actually, Cater… M-my dorm, Ignihyde, we’re h-hosting a movie night that night… Y’know, ‘cause a lot of us don’t really have plans for Valentine’s day and don’t wanna be sulking alone…” He swallowed a lump in his throat and took a deep breath. “...Y-you can come join, i-if you want…?”

Cater blinked a few times, a look of surprise on his face, before breaking into a smile and giving Idia’s arm a small squeeze of a hug. “OMG, movie night at Ignihyde?! I hear you guys have like, the sickest setup! That sounds great; count me in!”

Idia breathed a sigh of relief as the professor began class.

A few seconds in, his phone quietly vibrated as a single message came through. Idia glanced at it from down in his jacket pocket.

C.Dia: a rlly sweet guy in my class just invited me to hang out w/him and his dormmates on valentines day

C.Dia: u were right about getting out of bed. i think ill be okay today ^.^

***

“Hey, Idia…” Cater put his phone down, magicam abandoned where he’d paused on a video of a turtle swimming around an aquarium. “We’ve gotten a bit closer lately, huh?”

Idia paused the game he had up on his tablet. “H-huh? Oh, uh, y-yeah…”

“So, uh,” Cater played with a strand of his hair. “Do you mind if I talk to you about something a little… personal?”

Idia froze. Abort mission, find an escape route, he was not a high enough level for this kind of topic yet! Maybe Eppa was, but Idia!?

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to just say no when Cater was looking at him with those soft green eyes.

“S-sure…”

“Thanks! Y’know, you’re really sweet, and like, such a good listener…”

Idia hoped the redness of his face was hidden behind the flames of his hair that flickered in every direction.

“And I’ve just been feeling so… confused lately, about where my heart’s at. My feelings feel like they’re being pulled in so many different directions!”

Idia could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

Cater sighed, laying his head down on the table. “My ex asked me on a date today. He wants me to give him another chance.”

The burning sensation from Idia’s insides made a 180 as he felt his blood go cold. This was the last thing he wanted to hear his normie crush come and tell him without warning…

“And the craziest part? I said I’d think about it.”

Oh god.

“I know that’s like, totally insane after everything that happened, but… I dunno, seeing him around now that he goes to school here just has my head all scrambled!” He picked his head up from the table, opened his phone again, and gave the turtle video a like before standing back up suddenly. “Gosh, sorry, I don’t know why I just came over here and dumped that on you, Idia. I guess I just find you so easy to talk to, I get a little carried away!” He said with a nervous laugh.

Lucky Idia.

“But, don’t worry about it. I’ll figure things out for myself. It’ll be A-okay!” Cater gave an unconvincing thumbs up before turning to leave.

Super lucky.

“Azul, today might actually be the worst day of my life.” Idia said as he dragged himself into the clubroom and plopped down in the seat across from Azul in their usual spot.

“...Hm? Oh, hello, Idia.” Azul looked up from his phone. “I believe you said the same thing when you came in here to lament about Cater getting together with his… boyfriend, a while back.” Azul seemed tense at the very concept of Danarte. He hadn’t exactly been a fan of the guy since he transferred to not just NRC, but into Scarabia specifically, where he’d made a point to hover around Kalim and Jamil as much as possible.

“I mean, it’s basically the same level of despair. Cater just told me Danarte not only asked him out, but that he’s considering it!” Idia dropped his head facedown onto the table in sorrow. “Like, how could I lose to the same guy twice!? Ugh, honestly, there’s no one as pathetic as me. I am having the WORST time, and NO ONE could possibly understand the agony I’m in right now!”

Azul chuckled, his tone solemn and hollow. “I’ll do you one better. Jamil broke up with me today.”

Wait, what?

Idia’s head shot up as he squinted at Azul, who was gazing sadly at his phone again. “Huh!? Wh- Huh!? What happened?”

Azul sighed. “We had another fight- and I mean, you know how we are. We have our differences, our disagreements, and the two of us can be a bit… stubborn at times. But we always figure it out! We were doing so well… At least, I thought we were.” Azul rested his chin in his hands. “But I suppose Jamil didn’t feel that way. He said he’d had enough of the relationship. Enough of me.”

Azul bowed his head to stare down at the table.

Idia wondered if he was trying not to cry. He looked out the window, both out of respect, and also because it felt kind of awkward to stare at his friend who was clearly just barely holding it together after getting dumped.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, when it was clear neither of them wanted to discuss their woes anymore, Idia spoke. “Uh, wanna play the VR headset boardgames today? Now’s kinda the perfect time to… Escape reality, right?”

Azul lifted his gaze to Idia. “...You just want to make me use the virtual dice again because you know I can’t use my perfected dice strategy on them, don’t you?” He straightened his posture, standing up to get the headsets. “I’ll have you know I won’t let your silly game of virtual chance best me today!”

Oh thank god that worked. Idia didn’t think either of them could handle any more emotions for the day, so he stood up and followed Azul with a grin. “Hehe, we’ll see about that, Azul.”

#cereal writes #ocs #oc: dañarte #kind of. he’s not here but he’s involved #uhhh I’m not putting my mess in the main tags #ur allowed to rb or whatever I just dhfbgbgbg I can’t put this in the tags #it’s by will of god if u see it. or if you happen to be looking on my blog for things I guess LOL #I wrote these bits spaced out over time too #each chunk was as I had a later idea and it was in order as I went #but Idr how far apart they were #last time was apparently sept last year #anyway the point was cater and idia could be a lil more real with each other online #cater a bit more open about his melancholy #and idia more encouraging and then #pushing himself to be in person more both motivated by cay to see him #and bc their convos make him wanna be better or whatever idk #sorry the jamiazu bits may not make sense if you haven’t done the prerequisite reading LOL it’s not a big deal tho

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yeastinfectionvale · 1 year

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A Heart is a Heavy Burden

Chapter Two - Are wolves potty-trained? (yes or no this is a time-sensitive question)

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Sweetheart woke up to the smell of garlic wafting through the air. Their window ajar as the sun shone into the room. They rose out of bed, hair tangled and falling in their eyes while their left trouser leg bunched around their knee.

Trudging down the stairs and into the kitchen, Sweetheart was greeted by the chaos of the house. Babe stood by the stove, dancing along to their morning playlist. Angel sat on the floor beside the sofa, a large wolf lazily lying on the carpet beside them, a paw in Angel’s lap. Every few seconds, Angel would lean over and give the wolf a pat on the back before returning to filing its claws.

Sweetheart coughed confused why the supposedly dying wolf was now cosplaying a pampered pooch in their house. “Sweetie!” Angel exclaimed, “look at what we found.” They cupped the Wolf’s face, resting their chin on the top of its head. The same warmth from last night began to blossom again in Sweetheart’s chest as the wolf bared its teeth, mimicking a smile. Babe ran to Angel’s side, hiding their chin in its fur before peering up to look at Sweetheart. “Can we keep him? Please! We could name him Quagmire!” Angel and Babe harmonised as the Wolf howled as if he was in pain. He stood up and ran up to the windows leaping out of it. Sweetheart stifled a laugh and Angel and Babe held each other, fake sobbing into the other’s shoulders.

Something clawed at the door frantically. Babe walked to the door, opening it for the whining animal. The Wolf dropped a plate on the floor, a smug look in his eyes. Babe picked it up, reading the scratchings. “Milo?” The Wolf, Milo, barked happily hearing his name spoken aloud. Angel enveloped Milo in their arms, baby-talking, “oh you smart wolf, whose a smart boy?” Sweetheart moved towards the pinboard of evidence, fingers dancing on the surface until they found what they were looking for. “That’s not a wolf.” Babe froze, dropping a few pieces of bacon onto the plate for Milo to eat, “that’s Milo Greer, the muscle man for the Shaw pack. I had my suspicions when I was able to heal your paw with ease. But you running around playing nail salon instead of being a carcass outside proves it.” Angel pulled themselves away from Milo, eyes wide as Sweetheart walked up to him, picture in hand.

“This is how it’s going to go Milo. You are going to shift back and explain why you have broken into the home of the lead investigator for your missing pack case.” They placed the image down, pointing to a man embracing Tank. His hair ruffled slightly and a bright smile on show, his face sunkissed and adorned with freckles. You could see the outline of his muscles under his shirt and for a second, Sweetheart couldn’t help but feel slightly attracted to the man. Shaking the thought out of their head, they mentally shifted into Investigator-mode, a change felt by everyone in the room. Milo shrunk down as Sweetheart continued their tirade, “shift and tell me what happened to Tank.”

Tense moments passed as Sweetheart and Milo stared at each other, one in anger the other in defiance. The heat rose in the both of them, starting in their chests and engulfing their bodies. Sweetheart looked away in annoyance, unable to stare into Milo’s eyes. “Fine!” they huffed, grabbing their laptop and opening google docs. “You won’t shift? Then you type.” Milo shuffled forward, delicately placing his paw on the keyboard.

Oijlihj The screen read. Sweetheart stared at him.

Iujk908ikj He tried again.

98oikj Angel and Babe stifled their laughs.

Milo gave up and shuffled even closer, using his snout instead of his paw to type.

I CVANYT SHIFRT. FUCKING WARLOXKC ANDS CLOERKMNT CURASED MER./..//.

Milo hit the period button multiple times for emphasis as Sweetheart read what he wrote. “Seriously? You write a full sentence and the only word spelled correctly is Fucking?” Milo nodded, “you can’t shift back because a warlock working with Closeknit cursed you?” he nodded again. “Mr Greer- '' Milo cringed, “all packs were taken off the Closeknit case. I was the one who issued the command. What were you doing defying D.U.M.P?” Milo moved his snout to the keyboard, ready to smack his face into it. Sweetheart stopped him before pinching the bridge of their nose. “We need a better way of doing this.” Angel looked at Babe before quietly shouting, “why don’t you do that weird magic brain communication?”

“Bridging?” Sweetheart asked as Milo looked up at them, “good idea Ange, but I don’t think we can. He’s a wolf and I'm not.” Milo dove into the laptop and furiously smashed him snout into the keyboard.

EW COILD TRYU

Sweetheart looked at him, “are you sure you want to?” Milo nodded.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted asmr sam #redacted milo #redacted angel #redacted babe #redacted sweetheart #a heart is a heavy burden

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bardofavon · 1 year

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✿ did anything major change when you started writing a good myth to when you finished (or where youre at now if unfinished) ?

+ im genuinely obsessed w it and get excited all day sunday knowing an update is coming !! <3

omg you are so sweet!! I started rambling again so the answer is under the cut bc i went on for 10 paragraphs

fic ask game!

and the answer is yes, oh my god yes, like....most things??? i am a known pantser meaning anyone who thinks i started this story knowing where it was going is wrong, unfortunately. i think it maybe took me ten chapters before i finally went "wait, how do i want this story to end????"

i write out of order and i tend to have a rough plan in my brain for how i want things to shake out and certain plot beats that i want to happen, but i definitely don't have anything mapped out chapter by chapter. the chapter I'm going to post in an hour or two i literally sat in front of my google doc and went "ok.......actually have no idea what's going to happen this week........i know what's going to happen next chapter but i have put no thought in how to get there"

SO that being said, i have written the ending scenes and know how everything is going to shake out but for a solid 4 months there I was like "okay, the ending is going to be any of these three things" until i finally settled on a direction.

also, i had a huge existential crisis when i turned 24 and then another even bigger one when i turned 25 and i changed career paths twice and made some MASSIVE changes in my personal life so i would be lying if that didn't also effect the things i projected onto the story in terms of "kaz as a person who knows what he wants and knows how to get there" to "kaz as someone who thought he knew what he wanted but is now incredibly indecisive and grappling with his own mortality" which i think is a positive change overall and is happening very naturally

when i first started this story i was kind of "ooh two bastards are evil together and dark sided and plotting schemes and it's GAY" and then the reality of being in kaz's head is like "ooh.....200k slowburn"

OH and the length, definitely the length. i found a message in the discord server where i sent a snippet of something i wrote in 2021 (that i SOMEHOW still haven't posted) and i was like "this isn't going to happen for another 30k words" (laughs in 70k later and i still haven't gotten there) and someone was like "so excited that means the story is going to be that long" and i was like "I'm estimating it's going to be around 50k" and now here i am around the halfway point at 112k words................sobs..........

i had my big climactic scene penned for happening around when shadow and bone ends, with kaz being forced to make a similar choice to alina (this was over a year ago so in the very early stages of planning the story) and then somewhere along the road i was like...no it's going to stretch across the three books

also very small changed detail but in my notes on my google doc i have the note "the darkling gives kaz flowers and kaz eats them" so if that lets you know how things have changed tonally ahaha.

and i have multiple snippets and deleted scenes created from me writing things out of order and then getting to them and being like...yeah there's no place here for this conversation to happen.....rip.

#a good myth is hard to kill #writing #ask meme

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