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wikiangela · 5 months

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✨ 2023 writing round-up ✨

tagged by @exhuastedpigeon <3

I posted 22 fics this year (including the multi-chapter fic I started last december) and 21 of those were 911, and 20 were buddie lol the very first fic was the ending of my sambucky era (or a pause, I might go back who knows) and then buddie fully took over

idk what it was about this year, bc I've been writing buddie since march 2021, but now it's like the only thing I write haha

putting all the fics i've written this year under the cut bc it got loooong haha - clearly, march this year was big for me, so many fics haha

January

June 14th, 2025 (I've been waiting for you my whole life) Sambucky, T, 3.5k

A year after getting engaged, Sam and Bucky get married. A little oneshot that takes place after the events of my fic "sounds like an angel (he might be a demon)".

___

March

The one with groceries and bad coffee buddie, G, 1.3k

It’s fucking coffee, of all things, that finally does it. Or, Buck buys Eddie's favorite brand of coffee for his loft, and Eddie's brain short-circuits, leading to a realization.

Fine buddie, 1.6k

Eddie’s foot feels heavy on the gas pedal, while his hands grip the steering wheel tightly, to prevent them from shaking. He’s driving almost on autopilot, while trying his best to compartmentalize and focus on just getting to the hospital, trying not to think about Buck- about what’s happening in the back of the ambulance right now. Or, after the drive to the hospital after Buck's hit by lightning, Eddie loses it. Sort of 6x10 coda.

don't know what I'd do if your tomorrow never came buddie, 1.9k

He can’t help but think that this is some kind of sick joke from the universe, which he doesn’t believe but he knows Buck would. “The universe is screaming at you and you refuse to listen” is what Buck said once, it feels like a lifetime ago. He didn't believe it, then, either. And now the universe is mocking Eddie, having him have to tell their kid about Buck, just like Buck had to tell him about the shooting. Eddie doesn’t know how Buck did it, how he had the strength, because he’s on the verge of breaking down and shattering into a million little pieces. Or, Eddie goes home to tell Christopher about Buck getting hurt.

we got time (but we're only human) buddie, 1.6k

“We got time, Eds.” Buck chuckles. “Not enough.” Eddie’s voice breaks a little. Buck squeezes his hand. “We almost ran out of time, and I can’t just wait until it happens again, Buck. Besides, life is short. We’ll never really have enough time, because a lifetime with you wouldn’t be enough." Or, Buck wakes up from his coma, and Eddie, done with wasting time, confesses his feelings.

I can't love you any more (than I do now) buddie, G, 2.6k

Eddie's pretty sure he and Buck are dating and kind of living together. Neither acknowledges it, until Eddie finally does.

I don't mind a detour (as long as I still get to be yours) buddie, G, 1.4k

Buck falls asleep on Eddie's couch. Eddie has feelings about it.

___

April

me and you only equals love buddie, E, 6.6k

“What would you say,” Eddie brings one of his hands to Buck’s face, traces his jaw, feather-light, barely there touch, and hears Buck take a shaky breath, eyes wide with something like awe not leaving Eddie’s face, “if I wanted to kiss you? Just hypothetically.” OR, Eddie is horny and in love, and after the poker date, he finally kisses Buck - and things unfold from there. aka my first smut lol

you're the one I want buddie, G, 1.4k

“You know there’s only one person I’m interested in.” “And who might that be?” Buck leans back against the counter with a goofy grin, and Eddie wants to just go over there and kiss him. “Just my best friend I’m kind of hopelessly in love with.” Eddie shrugs, and enjoys seeing how Buck’s whole face gets red. OR, no one knows that Eddie and Buck are dating, Pepa tries to set Eddie up on dates, and Buck finds it amusing.

kiss it better buddie, G, 1.5k

Buck burns his tongue, Eddie makes a joke, and everything changes.

stuck with each other buddie, G, 2.5k

Buck's new fixation is buying unnecessary kitchen gadgets that end up in Eddie's kitchen, they all cook together, and Eddie can't keep his feelings in check.

I'm free in salt water (embrace the deep end, leave everything) maddie fic, 612 words

Sobbing, Maddie got up and, fully clothed, stepped into the ocean. Cold water was splattering against her, as she kept walking, fighting against the waves that tried to push her out. She was determined. It wasn’t her first attempt at killing herself, but it would be the first time she would be successful. OR, What was going through Maddie's mind as she walks into the ocean? (wrote this one when i was bored in class in college about a year before I posted this and idk if I like it tbh but it's posted haha)

___

May

I'd marry you with paper rings buddie, G, 3.4k

“If we’re not married by the time we’re, like, forty, we should just marry each other.” he chuckles, and downs the rest of his beer. And Eddie… Eddie knows it’s a joke. Obviously. It can’t be anything but. But still, it does something to him. He’s thought about it, fantasized about it, but hearing it from Buck, even jokingly… “Why wait?” his tone is also teasing. He can play it off as a joke, while still looking for Buck’s reaction, for any indication about how he feels. (...) “Let’s just do it now and get it over with.” Or, Buck makes a joke that leads to an unplanned marriage proposal.

Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life? buddie, G, 2.9k

Buck spends time with Eddie and Chris, and for some reason finds himself incapable of telling Natalia, which leads to some realizations.

what a mighty good man buddie, G, 3.4k

Buck loses his phone, and Eddie calls him to help him find it - but he does not expect the ringtone Buck has set for him.

___

June

me, you, our kid and a dog buddie, G, 4.7k

Buck and Chris try to convince Eddie to get a dog, while not even living together. It leads to more unexpected changes than Eddie could ever imagine.

___

July

you been looking for love (let me show you how it's done) buddie, E, 12.2k

“Are you-” he frowns, the confusion somehow winning with the urge to just lean in and kiss him so thoroughly he’ll forget about any other kiss he might’ve shared with any dates. “Are you doing all this on purpose?” “Doing what?” Eddie tilts his head, licks his lips, and – Buck’s almost a hundred percent sure – drops his gaze to Buck’s lips for a second. “Eddie.” Buck takes a deep breath, and wants so badly to kiss the smirk off of Eddie’s face. “Please.” “What for?” “You’re driving me insane.” he whispers, nails digging into his palms to prevent himself from reaching out. But Eddie’s thigh is pressed against his, and somehow his hand is on Buck’s knee now, and Eddie’s looking at him in such a way, that it makes Buck hot all over – or, hotter, his palms are sweating, actually. “And I feel like you are doing it on purpose.” or, Eddie is a tease, Buck is horny and jealous of Eddie dating, and a regular evening takes an unexpected turn.

___

August

For a holiday (and forevermore) buddie, M, 95k, 30 chapters

Eddie's sick of personal, intrusive questions about his love life whenever he visits his family, so he starts bringing Buck for the holidays as his (fake) boyfriend. He only wants to shut them up, and doesn't expect that the small crush he has on his best friend could actually turn into something more... (my baby fake dating holiday fic <3)

I could get lost in the feelings (just say that you belong to me) buddie, E, 15k

“Wait, wha- how- how do you feel about me?” Buck asks, his voice quiet and almost hesitant. “Buck, really? Isn’t it obvious? Do I have to spell it out for you?” Eddie sighs, eyes finally locking with Buck’s. “I think I’d like you to.” he whispers, eyes wide. “Just so I- just so I’m sure.” “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Eddie mutters, and then, frustrated and sad, and angry, he takes the few steps separating him from Buck, grabs his face with both hands, and crashes their lips together. Or, Buck's going on a date, Eddie's so jealous he finally snaps and reveals his feelings, which leads to a passionate evening in Buck's kitchen. aka the possessive smut which might be one of my fave fics ever haha

___

September

baby, you drive me wild buddie, E, 10.9k

He places his left hand on Buck’s thigh now, and Buck’s smirk just grows. “Eddie, I’m driving.” he says mock-scolding, but he chuckles breathily, as Eddie shifts in his seat, angling more towards Buck, taking his right hand and very lightly moving it along Buck’s inner thigh, following the seam of his jeans, until he gets to his dick. “Pull over, then.” he hears his own hoarse voice, as his hand grips Buck’s also already hard dick, getting a gasp out of him, his left hand still on Buck’s thigh digging its fingers into the leg. He really doesn’t think he can wait until they get home. “Eddie.” Buck shakes his head slightly, eyes not leaving the road. “We’re not gonna have sex on the side of the road.” Or, Buck and Eddie have car sex on the side of the road. one of my absolute favorite fics I've written and i think my fave smut ngl haha

___

October

the next best thing buddie, E, 9k

And, look, Eddie could say that it’s all good, delete the message, and pretend it never happened. Except, the more he looks, the more turned on he gets, and his hand starts stroking his dick through the fabric, and- and his mind is clouded by arousal and jealousy, and such strong feeling of possessive want, he’s not thinking when he throws the covers away, takes a picture of his bulge, cock hard and leaking, a wet spot visible on his underwear, and sends it to Buck in response, with a text that says ‘no worries, I liked it. fuck, I want that gorgeous cock all to myself’. It’s so unlike him, he’d never even taken a nude picture before now, but- but this is Buck, who makes some sort of crazy possessive beast roar to life in his chest, and has his body screaming at him to do something, anything to get Buck’s attention on him, instead of whoever the hell was on the receiving end of the messages leading to that one. ‘HOLY SHIT’ is what he gets back, and not even two seconds later, Buck’s calling him. Or, Buck accidentally sends a nude and a spicy text to Eddie - things escalate from there.

___

November

I wanna spend my forever like that buddie, G, 8.6k

Eddie catches a cold and stubbornly denies he's sick, while a fondly exasperated Buck is trying to take care of him.

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Writing Round-Up: Share what you wrote this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you wrote or just the ones your most excited about.

no pressure tags: @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @daffi-990 @loserdiaz @lover-of-mine @giddyupbuck @spotsandsocks @housewifebuck @underwater-ninja-13 @hoodie-buck @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1 @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @thewolvesof1998 @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @pirrusstuff @fortheloveofbuddie

#2023 writing round-up #writing round-up #tag games #i wrote so much at in march-april-may and then there's a decline lmao #self recs #i love most of the fics on here ngl #this year has been good when it comes to writing #clearly the lightning got to me lmao how did i write so much about it #this is so long lmao but ill never pass an opportunity to self rec sns 🙈

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shsenhaji · 1 month

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✒️ March Writing Round-Up 🖋

I was actually able to get some writing this month, even though I was pretty busy!

I wrote a book review of To Shape a Dragon's Breath by Moniquill Blackgoose for Strange Horizons (http://strangehorizons.com/non-fiction/to-shape-a-dragons-breath-by-moniquill-blackgoose/).

I also wrote a few poems, including a fan poem (a first for me!), and finished a chapter in one of my fantasy WIPs that I've been working on for months!

I'm hoping to have more time in April to fully get back into my WIPs, and maybe write a book review or two.

#mine #writing round-up #poetry #fantasy wip #to shape a dragon's breath #moniquill blackgoose

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marley-manson · 3 months

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the topic is Trapper and the army as foils, you have three hours, go

In no small part the satire of Mash, particularly in the first half of the show, is tied up with gender performance.

The army represents traditional, stifling and violent masculinity. This is shown through everything from freudian jokes about guns (eg Frank and Margaret's flirtations in The Sniper or The Gun), to Margaret trying to cajole Hawkeye into performing a more traditional standard of masculinity while treating him like a soldier in Comrades in Arms Part 2, to many jokes and comments about (usually) Hawkeye not being a real man in contrast to army standards and various specific army personnel (eg Lyle in Springtime, Flagg in White Gold), to Frank and Margaret's worship of the masculinity of the army ("He's twice the man you'll ever be," re: Flagg and Hawkeye, Margaret's lust for MacArthur, Frank pursuing the sniper in The Sniper in an attempt to be a "real man" in Margaret's eyes, etc) to many jokes positioning the military as a sexually aggressive man pursuing Hawkeye ("Sure, the sun the moon the stars, your high school letterman jacket. Same deal I promised nurse Baker." "A receipt please, and promise you'll go out with other doctors," etc.)

In contrast, the main characters all fail to perform traditional gender in some way, from crossdressing to immaturity to indecisiveness to peacefulness to Margaret's masculinity and Frank's pathetic failure to live up to his own masculine ideals, to just about everything about Hawkeye. His cowardliness, his jokes about not being a real man, his jokes about taking the feminine role in sexual encounters with men and women, even multiple double entendres about his average at best penis size.

Trapper is the most traditionally masculine of the main cast. He still subverts masculinity in some subtle ways here and there, such as the occasional feminizing joke and mentions of not being in great shape, but overall he's the more butch counterpart to Hawkeye's fem. He plays the role of boxer while Hawkeye plays the role of diva in their respective manager/star roleplaying episodes. He's broader and buffer and plays football, often seen playing catch with someone while walking around the compound, while Hawkeye disdains sports and doesn't participate. He reads Field and Stream which Hawkeye derides in Alcoholics Unanimous while making a wry comment about shaving his armpits. A past lover nicknamed him Big John.

And there are many, many jokes about Hawkeye and Trapper being sexual partners. The recurring Uncle Trapper and Aunt Hawkeye gag, if my father sees this you'll have to marry me, for me? only if you put those on, your father and I will tell you what we did to have you, that's when I fell in love with him, etc etc etc. It's constant. In these jokes Hawkeye usually takes the feminine role, though not strictly every time ("Me and the missus," is one exception in As You Were, the dance in Yankee Doodle Doctor is another).

Trapper's masculinity is differentiated from traditional military masculinity in a few ways. Most obviously, Trapper abhors the military's violence. He never uses guns and mocks Frank's obsession with them, he's a healer rather than a soldier, and he's disgusted by the results of military violence on the men on his operating table.

He's also secure in himself. The military's brand of masculinity is strongly characterized by insecurity and overcompensation. Frank is the main representative of this military insecurity - a coward who insists he's brave (The Army Navy Game), a man who clings to a phallic gun to compensate for his sexual and gendered inadequacies (a main theme of The Sniper, perfectly mirrored when the army itself comes in with a vastly disproprotionately powerful automatic machine gun on a helicopter to shoot down one sixteen year old), a homophobe repressing his own attraction to men (As You Were, the original script of George), etc. We also see this in Flagg, who implicitly sublimates sexual urges into violence (seen when he suggestively caresses his gun while describing how he wants to torture a boy in Officer of the Day).

Trapper doesn't need to overcompensate. He's well-endowed physically, he's portrayed as a competent and considerate lover, he's a brave man who doesn't mind being seen as a coward, and he may or may not be attracted to men but either way he's not a homophobe (George) and he doesn't express his sexuality through violence. When Margaret proves herself stronger than him, his response is to be impressed rather than offended (Bombed). When he dances with Hawkeye for a gag, he doesn't mind letting Hawkeye lead.

He's also differentiated in terms of tradition, with the mliitary representing a more propagandic 50s traditionalism, and Trapper representing a 70s, countercultural freedom from tradition. We see this in the way Trapper has plenty of sex despite being married, while adultery is a court-martial offense in the military. It's notable that he's open and carefree about it, while Frank and Margaret are surreptitious and hypocritical in their affair. This lack of traditionalism is also shown in his disrespect for authority, often in direct contrast to Frank and Margaret's worship of it, and his allyship to George who the military would persecute for his sexuality.

So ultimately we can see that while Trapper and the military are both examples of masculine performance, Trapper's masculinity differs from the military's in being more flexible, less violent, less traditional, and more secure. The military's masculinity is far more toxic than Trapper's, particularly in the context of 70s counterculture media, which aligns womanizing with sexual liberation rather than a lack of respect for women, accurately or not.

This contributes to their respective dynamics with Hawkeye.

Hawkeye, we've established, is usually more feminine, and there are a myriad of jokes characterizing Trapper as his sexual partner, as well as the military as a sexual pursuer.

The jokes Hawkeye and Trapper make about their relationship tend towards cozy domesticity. They're Radar's "aunt and uncle," they directly roleplay marriage ("Martha, we're going to have to move, the people upstairs are impossible,") and less directly behave as though married (the bickering in Alcoholics Unanimous, the discussion about naming their pony in Life With Father). Occasionally they're treated as a healthy couple in contrast to Frank and Margaret's toxicity ("While I'm gone, promise you'll go out with other doctors," vs "Touch anyone else and I'll cut off your hands" in Aid Station).

In some instances the jokes lean towards predatory - "If you're trying to get me drunk, it'll work," or "Who is this man in bed with me?" "I followed you home from the movies," but they're always playful, always fond. If Hawkeye takes on a submissive or victimized role in these jokes, it's one he has fun with and discards just as easily in the context of the rest of his relationship with Trapper.

So, it's important to note that Hawkeye and Trapper support each other and look after each other in an equal, enthusiastic friendship. From Trapper ensuring Hawkeye gets to sleep in Doctor Pierce and Mr. Hyde, to Hawkeye supporting Trapper when he wants to adopt a child, to Trapper right at Hawkeye's side as they attempt to procure an incubator, they are there for each other every step of the way. If their relationship is a marriage in some ways, it's a healthy, strong, and non-traditional marriage, an equal and open partnership free of jealousy and insecurities.

Compare that to the military's relationship with Hawkeye. In jokes it's characterized as powerful and predatory, far from an equal partnership. Sometimes it approaches positive - in Carry on Hawkeye, much of the humour is derived from Hawkeye and Margaret's gendered role reversal as she assumes military command of the unit. Hawkeye playfully calls her sir, seductively lies on her desk like a secretary in a porn film, and most notably treats an immunization shot as sexual penetration in a prolonged gag about sexual role reversal. Hawkeye has fun playing a sexually submissive role to a representative of military authority in this episode, but it is a submissive role.

Several of the one-off jokes have a similar sensibility, such as the double entendre of "My bellybutton's been puckering and unpuckering all day," in response to a representative of MacArthur assuming their excitement over the general's arrival to the unit, or Hawkeye's "Okay, take me, I'm yours," to Colonel Flagg. They demonstrate a willingness to play the receptive role on Hawkeye's part, but they also, pointedly, disturb the object of the jokes.

When Hawkeye makes these jokes that sexualize military authority, he's attempting to be provocative as well as defiantly drawing disruptive attention to his own powerlessness as a drafted surgeon. The power dynamic between Hawkeye and the authority of the military only goes one way, and Hawkeye gets a kick out of pointing it out in ways that perturb the representatives of that authority, but it's a power dynamic that takes its toll on him.

Many of Mash's plotlines revolve around Hawkeye rebelling and attempting to seize some scrap of agency back from the military. Adam's Ribs, for example, in which he starts a mild riot over the food he's being fed and spends the episode attempting to procure barbecue ribs from Chicago (which Trapper procures for him), or Back Pay where he tries to charge the military for his forced labour. A particularly notable example is Some 38th Parallels, in which Hawkeye complains about being paid the equivalent of a nickel per operation, and his frustration manifests in impotency until he can perform a gesture of rebellion against the military.

One unfortunate consistency of these episodes is that the army ultimately retains its power. When Hawkeye achieves his goals, it's only in small ways that do little more than satisfy his own need to assert his sense of self. Often, Hawkeye doesn't achieve his goal at all, but is thwarted by the army, such as in For Want of a Boot. In every instance he remains powerless in comparison to the authority of the military.

So the context in which Hawkeye makes these sexualized jokes about the military literally fucking him is one of abject helplessness. In a sense, all he's capable of is pointing out what the military is doing and putting it in his own, audacious terms. He's not capable of preventing it. His jokes usually have an edge of bitterness to them in delivery, and when they don't, that tone is imparted anyway by the greater context.

With Trapper, Hawkeye can play-act a marriage or an assault, but in either case he's an enthusiastically consenting, equal partner. Trapper's performance of masculinity allows for Hawkeye to take any role from victim to wife to husband, and enables Trapper to respond in kind from a position of equality and respect. The military, in its insecure, domineering performance of masculinity, is a dictatorial authority, never allowing Hawkeye perform any role but a feminized, victimized one, and only ever giving him the choice of whether to perform with a wry smile or a sneer.

In short, Trapper is the cool, considerate service top to the military's insecure domineering boyfriend.

I'm tagging everyone who enabled this lol, share the blame. @beansterpie @majorbaby @professormcguire @rescue-ram

#mash #this was dumb but writing it was somehow cathartic for me lol #i should've done this with frank and hawkeye as foils wrt subverting masculinity bc i think that would've been much easier #but i got caught up in this honestly. it's incredibly fun to write this kind of shit #maybe i'll post a round 2 sometime #marley on mash #ship ht #mash gs #and like... it's a little bit parodic but also sincere to an extent lol. this is absolutely one way of reading all the freudian #undercurrents in the show. it's definitely silly to contrast trapper and the military to make a point about how the show depicts #masculinity especially for like 1800 words lmao but it's a very fun angle #trapper mash #hawkeye mash #long post

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 4 months

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Headcanon that Mordred is outed as a Druid the first time he gets drunk because he starts speaking in the druid language, no one understands him and when Gwaine points it out, Mordred starts crying with panic.

Percival replies in the druid language and tells him it’s okay, that they just want to listen but they don’t all understand when he’s switching between, Mordred nods and starts answering questions about the Druids before eventually passing out on Merlin’s shoulder.

Merlin and Percival take him back and get him into bed. He doesn’t remember any of it the next day, but Arthur casually mentions that he’s going to need an ambassador when he makes peace with the Druids, Merlin telepathically tells Mordred to volunteer because he’d be good at it.

#this is me making up for the angst coming soon #that shit nearly made me cry to write #bbc merlin #headcanon #merlin headcanons #arthur pendragon #merlin #merlin emrys #i’m bad at tagging #percival #sir percival #the knights of the round table #mordred #sir mordred #gwaine

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awesomehoggirl · 1 year

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GUARDIAN ANGELS?

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jtl-fics · 1 year

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Fluent Freshman - Part 20

FF had watched more than a few self-defense videos when he believed that Andrew Minyard was looking for a dark alley to stab him in. He had learned how to turn the attacker’s momentum against them. Had learned about disarming the person trying to stab him.

He’d even had Matt teach him a few punches claiming that it was for the dust-ups that tended to happen on the court.

He, naturally, does not use any of that knowledge because his mind immediately reverts into Lizard panic mode the moment Jackson Plank takes another step forward with a knife (HUGE. Is it wild that he is thinking about Crocodile Dundee right now?)

“If you come quietly you won’t get hurt.” Jackson says and he reverts to who he is as a person and he freezes. His bravery was used up maybe it was only ever tied to great pump up songs and now in the silence of the alley he is back to being Stone-Faced Smith.

“You’re going to dial up Wesninski and if you don’t say EXACTLY what I tell you to then I’m going to have you SING in agony.”

Y’know in that moment he stops thinking about Crocodile Dundee.

He thinks about a movie that is far more ingrained in his mind than any number of self-defense videos or one-off lessons with Matthew Boyd where he’d been trying not to flinch. A movie he had watched in better days with his family and had been a favorite of his Grandma’s (and his).

He thinks about Miss Congeniality.

Sandra Bullock as Gracie Hart has taught him everything he ever truly needs to know when he takes a step back and Jackson comes at him.

He strikes right at Jackson’s nose with the palm of his hand.

“SON OF A-“

The knife is dropped and FF kicks it under a dumpster.

FF grabs the single weapon he has on his person.

The McDonald’s Megamind Happy Meal Light Effects Brainbot.

He points the LED light straight at Jackson’s eyes and just like Aaron in the car on the way back, “Shit, that’s bright!” And now completely blinded by a combination of watery eyes and LED McDonald’s toy he proceeds to SING just as Gracie Hart had taught him.

S - Solar Plexus. He punches Jackson there as hard as he can.

I - Instep. He smashes his booted foot down on the inside of Jackson’s shoes (who the fuck wears LOAFERS to a kidnapping?)

N - Nose. He’d feel bad about hitting it again if Jackson wasn’t y’know…a hitman out to hurt Captain Neil.

G - Groin. He may have to give himself just half a second to apologize to all of mankind for what he is about to do. His step brothers had definitely kicked him in the groin plenty of times to try and get a reaction. It’s an art to not let anyone know that your ball has retreated up into lower intestine. He kicks Jackson as hard as he can (collegiate athlete) with the boots that Nicky had let him borrow. He is right on target with the toe of his shoes.

Jackson goes down.

The next thing he does is not something Gracie Hart had taught him but does still feel like the right thing to do in this situation. He kicks Jackson in the head and the man goes limp.

If FF throws both hands up in the air and lets out a “I am Miss Congeniality!” Victory cry into the alleyway well no one is around or awake to know that.

He feels like he deserves a sash and a crown and some flowers.

He looks down at Jackson and then over at the van the man had hopped out of. He was definitely PLANNING on kidnapping Captain Neil so he probably has like…some kind of restraint?

Well, better to completely subdue this guy before he tries to figure out the game plan for Romero. Wait, what’s that next to the Crocodile Dundee knife, are those...?

***

Roland is calling for a second time.

Andrew had let it go to voicemail the first time. It was usually Roland complaining about Nicky, Aaron, or Kevin doing something exceptionally stupid in their inebriated states. They have a system. Roland will call and leave a voicemail detailing the dumb shit his family has gotten up to and then he’ll let it go.

If Roland calls twice then there’s an issue.

Arm still around Neil’s shoulders he answers the phone, “What.” He asks.

“You need to help your new friend. There’s some guy following him, he’s armed and dangerous and looking for someone to grab to get Neil’s attention. He tried to lead the guy outside but he’s standing watching it for now so there might have already been someone waiting?” Roland gets out in a rush and Andrew is up and moving towards the stairs even as he’s closing the phone to disconnect the call.

Neil, of course, is right on his heels. “What is it? Did something happen?” Neil asks and they are up the stairs and pushing past Frank and his stupid pineapple shirt. Andrew spots Nicky and he spots Aaron.

“Get Nicky and Aaron somewhere safe. I need to go help Smith with something.” He says because whoever this is wants Neil and Andrew will not let Neil get within grabbing distance and won’t mention it. Neil, blessedly, does what Andrew asks without question.

Andrew scans the crowd and finds a man whose gaze goes between his phone and the back door.

A face that Andrew had memorized.

One of Nathan’s surviving men.

In the same Zip Code as Neil.

And that man has the audacity to still be breathing.

He looks and Nicky and Aaron (drunk, drugged, and useless because Andrew had wanted them to be) are with Neil and Roland is directing them to the backroom.

Andrew goes out the alley and can feel Romero’s eyes on him.

He’s prepared for a lot of things to see out in that alley. He’s angry that FF hadn’t just come down and grabbed him and Neil (he does not need TWO martyrs) and he wants to know what the fuck FF was thinking (or if he was thinking at all). Even with that anger he does not wish to see FF’s blood spilled all over an alleyway because Andrew’s family needed to be protected and FF was the only one sober enough and aware enough to do it.

He knows what Nathan’s men are capable of.

Knows that Romero was one of Nathan’s best so if there is someone out in the alleyway then it’s likely one of his other bests.

FF doesn’t even know how to use a knife. He had asked and FF had firmly declined every time Andrew had brought it up after the first fainting incident. “I’m not interested in learning that. No.” Had been the standard response.

He knew FF had at least taken a lesson or two from Boyd on throwing a punch considering the one he shot out a week ago when a Striker came at him after the third time FF intercepted a pass.

Still, Andrew had not anticipated coming out into the alleyway and finding an unharmed FF securing an unconscious Jackson Plank’s arms behind his back with fuzzy handcuffs.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asks and FF looks up at him with a flush on his cheeks.

“It’s not my fault this is a weird sex alleyway! They’re the first thing I found on my way over to the van to look for actual restraints.” FF says immediately and Andrew almost laughs at the insanity of it. “Wait, where’s Captain Neil?” FF looks around nervously.

“He’s with Aaron and Nicky in the backroom. Roland gave me your S.O.S.” Andrew says even as he quickly makes his way away from the door and towards FF. “Romero is watching the door. Let’s give him a reason to come out.” He says going over to Jackson and when he rolls the man over he raises an eyebrow at the piss stain on his pants and the blood dripping down his nose.

He looks to FF who resolutely does not look back at him.

It’s a story he’ll get out of his friend eventually. Looks like FF didn’t really need those knife lessons. Something settles a bit more in Andrew, it’s nice to have someone else in their group that could handle themselves in a fight.

Andrew finds a phone and FF rolls Jackson back onto his stomach, “He could choke on his own blood.” He shrugs and Andrew wouldn’t care if Jackson choked on his own blood in fuzzy handcuffs in a back alley but he can understand FF not wanting a murder charge.

Andrew looks at the phone and sees the the swipe pattern clear as day. It takes him two tries to get the order right but then Jackson’s phone is available for him to get over to the texting app.

The texts he reads there make him angry. There were a lot of plans on what the two of them were going to do to Neil before his body was offered up to a different crime family to show that Romero and Jackson had no loyalty left to the Wesninski line.

He types out a text to Romero that will have the jackass come out thinking everything had gone well and they had two hostages. He looks over to FF, “You ready for round two?” He asks.

“There isn’t a tap out option right?” FF asks and Andrew laughs at the joke.

Always cool under pressure it seems.

“No.”

“Then yeah, I guess just hit send.” FF says with a shrug.

Andrew does just that.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

Didn’t wanna leave ya’ll hanging on that particular cliffhanger for too long ;)

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

#Fluent Freshman AU #I would like to thank Sandra Bullock's performance for allowing me to write the stupidest fight scene ever #I would also like to thank my sister for getting engaged on April 25th so Miss Congeniality was floating around in the noggin already #Andrew: Smith is really cool under pressure. He can make jokes at a time like this.#FF: What if no one believes me that I found these handcuffs in the alley?#He's too focused on the embarrassment of using those handcuffs to focus on the fact that round 2 is about to happen #Did my 'research' involve finding out EXACTLY what McDonald's happy meal toys were being offered November 2010 #Perhaps #The internet really does just have like a whole shitload of people who will just have a database of seemingly useless knowledge #I love those people #Neil may be pacing up a storm in the back room but Keeping Nicky away from the dance floor is a full time job #For ONCE Aaron is the easy one to deal with #Roland just gave him a virgin drink and he's happy #AFTG #AFTG OC #AFTG AU #AFTG Fic #My Fics #It's shorter because I didn't wanna leave ya'll hanging #FF - Pt. 20

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insomnya777 · 14 days

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do you guys know that youtube dating show called the button. because i was watching it with my friend the other day bc we were bored and we were like this seems funny and i somehow got a boat boys fic idea based off of it. so if i make a fic about the button dating show will people underdtand or is it too niche

#let me know guys #my idea is just like. they just broke up #jimmy n joel were watching the show #jimmys like i dare u to submit an application #joels like bitch don't tempt me and he does it #and he gets accepted or wtv thats not the important part #anyways he shows up and his turn comes around and after a couple rounds hes sitting in the chair alone waiting for the next person #and someone walks up #and hes like Fuck i know that insufferable swaggering and that grating voice #etho sits down in front of him n just kinda blinks twice like what the hell r u doing here #they both open their mouths to speak but joels talking before etho can even get a word in #crossing his arms saying what do you think you're doing #etho rolls his eyes and says i could ask you the same thing #they bicker for like two more seconds and they're both really annoyed bc their break up ended not very amicably #the button flashes red #joel glares at etho “don't you fucking dare press that i'm not done getting mad at you"#etho looks amused leans back in his seat and doesn't press the button #after a second the button is like “i'm sensing some tension here”#joel snorts #and stuff happens. i dont know #do i write it yes or no #boat boys #smalletho #trafficblr #hermitblr #nya talks

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silversoulstardust · 8 months

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[punk hazard/dressrosa arc spoiler heavy lawlu rambling]

recently I saw a video that was comparing luffy to naruto and the fact that luffy is not a hero when compared to naruto because naruto saved people even when the people that needed saving refused it (ie uchiha sasuke) but luffy? luffy saved countries on his selfish whim and all the other people he saved, he waited until they asked for it. he waited nami to ask for his help and robin to tell him she wanted to live.

except you know who? trafalgar law.

we could tell that law was planning on a suicide mission when he went to punk hazard on his own. he sent off his crew to zou and was wandering alone to find out more about the SAD factories and knew he risk angering doflamingo by destroying it. during that time, he saw an opportunity, formed that alliance with the strawhat and marched on to dressrosa.

retrospectively looking at it, there was no doubt that he was using the strawhat crew. he was putting them all in an unprecedented amount of danger by stepping on doflamingo's turf, the risk he wasn’t willing to put on his own crew that he sent away much earlier.

law definitely felt guilty over it.

at least for a little bit, when law watched luffy almost got his ass handed to him by doflamingo when law was helplessly restrained on the flower hill at the new king’s plateau and was making a fuss for the others to let him free despite his heavy injury until robin who could see through law’s intention and action had to say it: “luffy is here because of his own free will.”

after the deal at greenbit fell through and law found out doflamingo had been manipulating the press, he tried to break the alliance. threatened to kill luffy once luffy uncuffed him. but luffy just shut him up and lugged him all over the place like a sack of flour over his tiny shoulder and fought doflamingo till the end.

one could argue that luffy did that because rebecca asked him to, but revenge against doflamingo was also one of the things that occupied law’s the most since he lost cora-san. he just didn’t directly ask luffy to beat the shit out of doflamingo on his behalf. yet luffy did it anyway.

so back to the whole naruto vs luffy comparison at the beginning of this post? at least there’s one exception where luffy helped someone against his will and acted like a goddamn hero. and it is towards the damsel in distress that is trafalgar d water law.

#my gosh this rambling almost go off tangent because i cant round up my own thoughts #i feel so normal about them :)#i wanted to include manga screenshots to go with the rambling but it'll require me to go through the manga and i simply do not have the tim #i shouldnt even be here rambling about lawlu in the first place i have a garda vetting form to fill up and get packing bc im moving soon #am i putting lawlu up there against the great sasunaru? maybe #lol #lawlu #lulaw #trafalgar law #monkey d luffy #one piece #chromie writes #chrmz.txt

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mothwingwritings · 12 days

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Can we have Ren/Fox (TPOF) and Mc with a child?Long after Fox decided to stay with MC, they both had a daughter (probably not something with consent and a bit of Stockholm syndrome).The daughter asks her mother how she got the scars and this makes MC have memories of post-traumatic stress.

I was so tickled by this ask that I started manically typing out a response for it nearly as soon as I saw it in my ask box (which at this point, was quite some time ago. Forgive me, I am a mess lul). I wrote the whole damn thing in a fit of passion, excited to release it into the world… But ultimately hated it and thought it was garbo, so I scrapped it and tried again. Wrote a second iteration and thought ‘hell yeah, this is it!!! Sick!’, but then I read it AND HATED THAT ONE TOO AAAHHH!!!

I rewrote this… so much…

But I never give up on my dreams, and you shouldn’t either! Persevere! Don’t give up on yourself! Here’s your daily motivation for the day! Keep writing even it makes you cry!!! :D

Anyway, so I wrote this third one, comprised of new stuff and the stuff I actually did like from the first two stabs, and it ended up being the one. Truly it is a Frankenstein of a fic lol. Regardless of all the reworking, I had a lot of fun writing this and enjoyed the prompt very much!!! I I hope you enjoy reading it just as much. :)

I’m sorry if the writing seems a tad too mature for the reader’s daughter in this, writing children isn’t my forte. ^^;

Due to the nature of this fic, IT IS 18+ ONLY!!! Thank you!

WARNINGS: Incessant mentions of abuse of all kinds for reader and mentions of physical abuse for her child!!! Reader is heavily scarred from said abuse and that’s a main theme in this fic so please avoid if that is upsetting to you. Also, though not the main focus, there are multiple mentions of child abuse in this fic, as well a part where reader goes off verbally on her child, so please be mindful of that as well! Other things of note: reader is a parent in this (which you can probably tell by the prev warning lol), reader getting hurt, blood, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, being held against your will/isolation, mentions of noncon, sad family stuff :(

Diminishing rays of afternoon light splayed through the open window of your quaint living room, casting a comforting orange glow over everything they touched. The light gave the environment an ethereal and nostalgic feel, wrapping you in peaceful warmth as the sun sunk lower and lower. The loveseat you occupied was plush and inviting, and a mug of your favorite tea stood at the ready on the small coffee table beside you, steadily cooling with help from the last hurrah of winter blowing in gently from the outside. Besides the slight chill, the wind brought with it the heavy scent of freshly bloomed flowers, a delightful precursor to the oncoming spring.

Relishing the rare moment of serenity, you couldn’t help but wish that all your days could be this lovely.

You smiled down at your daughter who sat perched in your lap, happily flipping through the newest gift she had acquired from her Father- a thick picture book full of bright illustrations highlighting various exotic animals. As it lay sprawled across her tiny lap, her chubby finger pointed out each animal she took an interest in, her high pitched voice chirping away as she explained what she liked about the creatures. She got particularly excited when she spotted the page full of foxes, jabbing at the red one feverishly as she exclaimed “its daddy!”

Spotting the foxes began her down a path of assigning an animal to not just herself, but you as well. She didn’t find it fair that only her father had kin in the animal world, even though you pointed out that she technically did as well by sharing half the man’s blood. Your revelation did little to deter her, she wanted something new, something just for herself, and she wasn’t going to stop until she found her perfect soul animal. So she continued on, scanning each page in earnest until she found a creature that suited her.

She ended up picking a bunny for herself, supplying you with a comprehensive reason as to why she chose it. As she explained in great length, skimping no details, you couldn’t help but hold back laughter. She spoke as if she were a professor teaching a class, and you did your best to keep a straight face as she yammered on with her shoddy reasoning, deep down knowing she only picked a rabbit because of how cute they are.

After she was done waxing poetic about bunnies, she continued scouring the book, coming to a halt once she reached the wild cat section. She stopped with a gasp, beaming up at you as she pressed her finger firmly against one of the images on the page.

“Mommy this one is you!”

Your eyes traveled to the picture she was rapidly tapping, “An African Wildcat, huh?” You smirked down at the little girl in amusement, “Why did you pick that one for me?”

“Because it looks just like you!”

You chuckled at her enthusiasm, “It looks like me? How so?”

“It has marks just like you do!”

Her innocuous words sent a chill up your spine. Eying the stripes that crossed the cat’s legs, you felt a great unease begin to overtake your body. Her reasoning was not lost on you, the cats coat did quite resemble the jagged scars that covered nearly every inch of your body, and just like the feline in her book, your limbs were the most prominent location of said ‘markings’. You quickly shook your head, not wanting to dwell on it further. In hopes of moving on from the subject, the outpouring of words that flew from your mouth were jumbled and messy.

“O-oh, I see,” you stuttered, clearing your throat to steady your voice, “well you certainly picked a cute animal for me! Thank you baby, it was a good choice.”

She smiled at you innocently, a gesture that usually made your heart melt with affection. But as her tiny hands moved from the book to your arms, that smile did nothing but fill you with dread, the realization that you wouldn’t be getting out of this sticky situation hitting you like a brick to the face.

“Yeah mommy, the kitty’s marks are just like these ones,” her stubby fingers gently traced the old wounds, a look of reverence reflected on her cherubic features. “They make you look like that kitty mommy,” her little voice cooed, “I like them a lot!”

Your muscles constricted at her words, a slight tremor coursing through you as you involuntarily tightened your grip on her. She took note of this, looking up at your strained features with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Don’t be sad mommy,” she spoke assuredly, “I really do like them! I think they are pretty!”

Her words burned you, scorching the inside of your frozen shell of a body, leaving you feeling sickly and discombobulated. The room around you started to spin in a hazy blur, a wave of nausea making you nearly wretch. Your breathing grew erratic as you tried to calm yourself, inwardly repeating that your daughter was just a child, a little girl barely four years of age who had an incredibly limited view of the world. Her words were not meant to upset you. Her opinions were coming from a place of total naivety.

Yet still, the mental assurance did little to help with the extremely uncomfortable position you now founds yourself in. It wasn’t as if this was her first time noticing your scars. She had mentioned them before, her curious mind trying to piece together the reason that her arms appeared different from your own. Each time she brought your old wounds up you couldn’t help but feel flustered, responding with weak explanations and misdirection to try and quickly brush off her questioning.

The marks came from a silly mistake, or a childhood accident, or from a careless moment when mommy should have been paying more attention. It was always excuses on repeat. How many lies had you told her on this topic alone?

But even if they were lies, it beat telling her the truth. You didn’t want to have to explain where the scars on your body actually came from to anyone, let alone a child, and especially not to your own daughter. How could you possibly word it gently, or in a way that she would understand, when you barely understood why you had them yourself? How could you look her in the eye and tell her that these markings were a permanent sign that you had been very, very hurt and that it was her own fathers hands that inflicted the pain?

Reliving the horrific moments that left your body in such a state was overwhelming enough on its own, but to also have to lay bare her father’s sins, relay to her the unsavory proclivities of a man who she idolized and adored, was not something you were keen on doing.

She didn’t know her daddy like you knew him. She was ignorant to the constant state of concern you lived in, unaware of the worries that plagued your mind and kept you up each night. All the troubles of the hell she had been born into were completely lost on the small, carefree girl.

But honestly that was for the best. You had made an unspoken promise the moment she entered your life that you would protect her no matter what. From the day of her birth onward it became your mission to keep her as happy and healthy as possible.

Ren had broken you, but she did not have to suffer the same fate.

At this point in her life, your daughter knew nothing of her daddy’s profession or ‘hobbies’, and you wanted it to remain that way for as long as possible, if not for the rest of her life. You dreaded each time Ren came home from an auction, terrified he may let casually slip too many details about his ‘lively client’ or that he would carelessly step through the door with the stains of his liaisons still littering his clothes. Your daughter was at an age where she was brimming with questions, and she was relentless in getting answers to each question she asked. Everything had to be explained in complete detail for her to be satisfied, drop the subject, and move on. She was a smart little thing, possibly too smart for her own good. You highly doubted a silly joke or wave of the hand would assuage her whirring mind should Ren grow too impetuous in her presence.

And should her questioning become too pesky, you fretted over what Ren’s reaction to it may be. The more you tried to avoid thinking about it the more you seemed to fixate on the topic, pondering just how much goading it would take from your daughter before his temper would rear its ugly head. You, above anyone, had firsthand experience in just how volatile the man could be, the scars that littered your body a testament to his turbulent emotions and violent outbursts.

Looking back on it now, it’s a wonder you survived any of it at all.

Ren often told you he loved you, each confession spoken through honeyed words that spilled from his lips easily and often. And while you didn’t doubt those words (you knew better than to, at this point), you also knew his sweet nothings weren’t merely a term of endearment, they also served as your curse. He loved you, but he also loved your fealty to him, your adoration and worship of him and only him. Should you not reciprocate his feelings as quickly or ardently as he expected, the mere thought of whatever punishment he would concoct was enough to send you into a debilitating panic attack.

There were few things he loathed more than when you flinched from his affection or if you exhibited any sign of distress towards his presence, especially after he had spent so many years going above and beyond to provide for you, devote himself to you. You had learned early on to keel any feelings of aversion you had to his advances, several of your more prominent scars a brutal reminder of that misstep alone.

If your daughter uncovered the truth and saw her father for who he truly was, if she began to fear him the way you feared him, how would he respond? If not only his partner, but his own daughter started shying away from him, what length would he go to to correct this behavior?

Dwelling on it made your skin crawl.

But perhaps all of your worries were asinine. Despite his inclination for cruelty, Ren had never so much as raised a hand towards your daughter, even when she did act up. If anything, he was overprotective of her, barely letting her move faster than a brisk jog lest she fall and hurt herself. He hated seeing his little girl experience even a modicum of physical pain, mentioning to you previously that were he able, he’d keep her locked up in a padded room all day and night to prevent any foreseeable accidents or injuries. Surely it was just his idea of a joke, but the insinuation still made you cringe.

It was almost comical, just how greatly the manifestation of his affection for her differed from how he showed his love for you.

His domineering nature shielded her from experiencing any true pain. Every scrape, bruise, and cut she ever received was superficial, nothing that caused major bleeding or left a lasting impression. She had no way of knowing what had been done to you to cause the scars that marred your form, the torment and hell you experienced with each slash, smack, burn. Hell, she probably didn’t even really understand what a scar actually was. All she knew was that her mommy and daddy had strange marks on their skin that didn’t follow any kind of set pattern, weird jagged lines and indents that her soft skin was curiously free from. The mystery of it all was as puzzling to her young mind as it was enticing.

However, some mysteries were best left unsolved, and just as with each other time she brought up this hot topic, you found yourself unable to look into her clear, bright eyes and tell her any semblance of the truth. She may have been forced upon you, but she was your daughter. You loved her, and you refused to be the one to shatter her innocence. You would keep her ignorant for as long as possible, shielding her to the endless nightmare of your daily lives, even if it cost you your sanity.

“Mommy,” her voice jarred you, dragging you from your thoughts, “mommy did you hear me? I said I think they are pretty!”

“T-that’s… I…” You stuttered, struggling to find the right words to say, your voice coming out much smaller than you intended it to. The room felt like it had dropped thirty degrees, your body twitching in response to the sudden chill.

“Daddy told me he gave some of them to you, like this one,” her pudgy, cold finger pressed into the faded heart that resided on your chest, the first of many indelible sins he had etched onto your form. Only the top half of the carved symbol was viewable above the collar of your shirt, so she tugged at the loose hem until she could see it in its horrible entirety.

“Daddy said he gave you this one because he loves you so much,” her voice grew quiet, a thoughtful look in her eye as they drank in wounds you wished you could forget, “Daddy loves me too, right mommy? You think he’ll give me a cute heart someday too?”

You felt as if you had been hit by a train.

“S-top,” the words were forced from your throat, airy and breathless, as if someone was wringing your neck to make them come out, “p-please, just stop talking.”

“What did you say mama,” your daughters sing-song voice responded as her fingers continued to trace and prod your scars, “You are whispering, is it a secret?”

“I told you to SHUT UP!”

As if following your command, your booming voice instantly silenced the small girl. Unused to such a violent outburst from her mother, her happy-go-lucky nature quickly shifted to one of alert, her tiny body going rigid as she stared up at you with fearful eyes.

Seeing her in such a state and knowing that you were the cause of it would normally have killed you inside, making you fall to your knees to beg for the child’s forgiveness. But right now, the thin thread that had been holding you together had snapped, and your words rushed out in a torrent you couldn’t begin to quell.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” You seethed, clasping your hands to your ears to try and block out your own intrusive voice, “Just STOP TALKING about it! What are you even saying? Why would you ever want to look like this?!”

Tears started to flood your eyes, blurring the image of the girl who had quickly jumped from your lap and was now cowering before you. Through your bleary vision, you could see tears were brimming her eyes as well.

“You… You have no idea,” your voice warbled, shaking in equal parts grief and frustration, “You have no clue what you are saying, so just STOP IT. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!”

You slunk from the chair down to the floor, burying your face in your cold, stiff hands. The soft blubbering of your daughter could be heard through your own sobbing.

“I-I’m sorry mommy. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Hearing her broken voice began to shatter the spell you had been under, instant regret jerking you roughly back to reality. Your head sunk lower, your body scrunching itself up as tightly as possible to hide from this cruel reality.

Your screams were born from deeply buried feelings of hatred, tucked far, far away as a means of self-preservation. For a moment, you felt as if you despised your daughter, her existence tethering you to this wretched excuse of a life, binding you irrevocably to Ren. But as you lifted your heavy head, glancing up to stare into her young face, a face so very similar to your own, a face contorted in panic and sadness over her mother’s abrupt descent into madness… you realized it wasn’t her that you hated.

It was yourself.

Your daughter didn’t deserve this. She deserved normalcy. She deserved a father that didn’t pose a threat to her. She deserved a mother that wasn’t ruined by his hands. She deserved a happy and untroubled life, not to be stuck being raised in a barbed cage, navigating her way through life with nothing but the shattered remains of a battered woman to guide her.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked under the weight of your overwhelming emotions, snot and tears running freely down your ruddy cheeks and chin, “I’m so, so sorry baby…”

“What the hell is going on?”

You hadn’t heard the front door open, nor had you heard Ren’s jubilant greeting as he entered your home. He had no doubt been upset by the lack of welcome-it was one thing to be ignored by a child, but his doting wife? That was not something he was not apt to look past.

But surely any feelings of annoyance or frustration fled from his mind the moment he entered the room, his eyes falling upon your crumpled, messy form collapsed on the floor. You cursed his arrival, upset that he entered the scene at such a compromising time, right as you were struggling to regain an ounce of composure and properly apologize to the little girl who had done nothing wrong.

“D-daddy,” your daughter’s voice warbled as she barreled towards him, colliding into his waiting embrace. You wiped at your face in a desperate attempt to hide your previous outpouring of emotions, doing your best to avoid eye contact with Ren as his sharp gaze quickly flicked from you, to his daughter.

This had already become enough of a scene without Ren’s interference, it was best to try and begin damage control now.

“Daddy I-I made mommy cry!” Tears continued to pour from your daughter’s eyes, her face twisting into a look of pure dismay. Her misguided admission of guilt made you recoil, knowing full well it would grant her no favors with the person she seeking comfort from. “I’m really sorry daddy! I didn’t mean to!”

After several endless seconds of silence, Ren spoke.

“… You made her cry?”

His voice was far sharper than it needed to be, further agitating the precarious state of affairs. In most cases he would have offered your daughter leniency, letting her get away with far more than she probably should. However that leniency was null and void if you ended up suffering in the process. Ren could not forgive anyone that caused you any duress (himself, of course, being the exemption) even if that person was his own flesh and blood.

“What do you mean you made her cry? What the hell did you do to her?”

“I-I don’t know,” she wailed, a fresh wave of tears spurred on by the accusatory tone of her father’s voice, “I just told mommy I thought her marks were pretty and then she started crying! I wasn’t lying daddy, I like them! I think they make mommy look really pretty!”

“Her marks…?” Ren’s look of vexation began to dissipate as the meaning of her words donned on him. He lifted his arm, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his own scars to the little girl. Pointing a clawed finger to them, he leaned down until he was looking her in the eye, “You mean like these?”

As she nodded her head vigorously in confirmation, Ren tutted, “That’s the reason for all the water works? An innocent compliment started all this fussing?” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Isn’t that a little bit… silly?

You tensed at the sound of his barking laugh, your frown deepening as an amused grin spread wider across his lips. You wished that you could say it was shocking for him to have such disregard after finding the two of you in such an agitated state, but it was painfully in character of him to shrug off your misery and suffering as inconsequential. How he could so nonchalantly normalize this hellish situation he kept you and your child ensnared in, you would never understand.

Your daughter was apparently sharing similar thoughts, as her face began to once more morph into a pre-sobbing scowl. She was no doubt wounded that her father was not offering her the comfort she was seeking, her emotional state already greatly weakened by her mother’s venomous tantrum.

To help quell another round of tears, Ren pulled the child closer, wrapping her up in his arms so that her tiny form was nearly enveloped by him. “Shhh, no more tears angel,” he cooed sweetly, patting her head gently to appease her, “There isn’t any reason to cry, especially because… Well, you’re right! Mommy’s whole body is pretty, isn’t it? Her marks just compliment the beauty that’s already there.”

Slowly but surely, her tears began to dissipate. Hunched over shoulders loosened, and sniffles and hiccups gave way to even breathing. Like clockwork, her father’s gentle handling soothed her, the same touch that destroyed you offering her salvation.

As if under a spell, the turmoil that had overcome your daughter quickly began to vanish, her sobbing fading into quiet sniffles. Once she was fully calmed, Ren continued speaking, “That’s all you meant to say to mommy, right angel? I’m sorry she took it the wrong way, she’s probably just tired or hungry, you know how mommy gets. She’ll get over it in no time flat!”

Heat spread through your body at his flippant dismissal of your feelings, an indignant blush lighting your cheeks as you gripped your hands tightly at your side. Your previous emotional episode left you all but drained, but your will to fight back against his callous commentary could never truly be contained.

“In fact, I bet she is already over it now,” Ren’s voice took on a jovial tone as he directed his focus solely on you, “Aren’t you, pumpkin?”

With the ball suddenly in your court, you flinched as both sets of expectant eyes fell on you. Your own eyes darted from Ren’s piercing glare, down to your daughter’s wide-eyed look of unbridled hope. You felt much like the rabbit that had been caught by the fox, stuck in a lose-lose situation. Seeing him hunched over her small body as she clutched to him as a life line, openly concerned that her mother may once more reject her while her father remained a bastion of strength and understanding, left you reeling. Either you would get heated again and stay the villain, but possibly hold on to an ounce of your dignity, or concede to Ren and have yet another piece of your soul wither away and die-the price to pay so that your daughter could remain in blissful ignorance for another day.

“Aren’t you, pumpkin?” He repeated himself slowly, enunciating each word. The kindness in his voice serving only as a mask for the threat buried beneath.

“Y-yes,” you responded quickly, shooting them both a smile you hoped was convincing, “I am very sorry, baby. Daddy is right. Mommy is just… tired.”

A serene smile lit her face, your words placating her. Seeing her happy once more helped relieve a bit of the ache in your own heart, making the lie worth it.

“Good, good,” Ren affirmed with a nod, carefully detaching himself from your daughter as he stood, “but you know little one, mommy deserves some love too, don’t you think? She may have been in the wrong, but it’s not nice to make her cry like that. Why don’t you go give her a hug, hm?”

With no further persuading necessary, she quickly padded over to you, hopping on your lap with so much enthusiasm that it nearly knocked the wind from you. Her arms tightly latched around your torso as she smushed her face into your chest, rubbing it back and forth like she was trying to burrow beneath your skin.

“I love you mommy,” her voice spoke clearly, any hint of previous sadness long gone. You sighed, relieved that this dramatic chapter was over as you pulled your daughter closer to you.

“I love you too.”

During this show of affection, Ren had made his way behind you, slinking so deftly you hadn’t even known he had moved until you heard him chuckle softly behind you.

“This is what I like to see,” he spoke with a sickeningly dreamy sigh, “nothing makes me happier than when my two girls are happy.”

He placed his hands gingerly atop your shoulders, trailing them down until they rested on your arms. His thumbs pressed gently against the marred skin, rubbing in a small circular motion in an attempt to subdue you. His claws grazed your flesh, uncomfortably scratching against you as they snagged against your skin.

He planted a firm and lingering kiss to the side of your head, pulling away just enough that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. “There really was nothing to cry about,” he whispered breathily, his words quiet enough that despite your daughters’ proximity, she would have no chance of hearing them. “It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you are, scars and all. But you must know that, right my sweet pet? I tell you all the time.”

Ren took in a deep breath, releasing it in a shaky sigh, “Seeing these scars reminds me of all we have been through, all that we share. They are a symbol of our bond.”

One of his claws pressed down sharply, a small bead of blood pooling around the piercing. Leisurely he began to drag his finger up your arm, a thin red line following in its wake. You shivered at the burning sensation, but deigned to give him any reaction further than that.

“Don’t forget pumpkin, these pretty marks are a reminder of my constant love for you.” He chuckled softly, peppering a few kisses to the back of your neck while his claws slowly sunk deeper, “And right now I am feeling terribly sentimental, so for old times’ sake, why don’t I add a few more to remind you just how precious to me you are~?”

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creativesplat · 4 months

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I would also like to see some miphlink, if that's okay!

I was really struggling with what to draw, and then I remembered your ask from ages ago (dang ADHD brain...) anyway, sorry its such a late answer, but Miphlink inspired by Dicksee's La Belle Dame

#thank you so so much for the ask stars!! I had completely forgotten about it (I'm so so sorry!!) and it saved me from an artist-not-arting #you know the sort of pent up unpleasant feeling you get when you need to do something creative but its not happening and then its sad?#yeah I didn't get that because your ask suddenly popped into my head! so very happy about that :) thank you!#link is a horse girl and we need more of it in life #also to try and get the flowy fabric look that Dicksee's La Belle Dame has without putting Link in a dress I decided to modify Mipha's fins #and then added some of that gorgeous salmon colour from the original piece #also the reason the reason the champions tunic etc have that grey tinge to it is because the knight was wearing armour in the original piec #with a beautiful duckegg blue grey colour and I thought including that might be fun too!#anyway #the couple that is perfect for one another and should always be together for all time: Mipha and Link #mipha #link #botw #creativesplat draws #breath of the wild #miphlink #lipha #I really need to catch up on the miphlink tag... its so exciting to have so much wonderful art and writing to look through but I am a rathe #busy/ adhd forgetful bean so whenever I get round to reading or looking at art... there will be a long reblog/ queue of miphlink stuff!#eventually #at some point #because fashionably late (coughjustlatecough) is my middle name!#enough rambling sorry #I love drawing miphlink its like a comfort drawing thing #like her head is so squidgy and so easy to doodle so if ever my brain is bored or I want to draw and need happy hormones but can't find the #mipha is the answer because the squishy head is just sooooo good #the designers of mipha were amazing and I love them #epona #tloz #zelda

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shsenhaji · 1 year

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✒️ February Writing Round-Up 🖋

I did get a bit more writing done this month than in January.

In terms of reviews, I managed to write one - Tress of the Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson. I have a few books I’d really like to review, so hopefully I can get them done in March.

In terms of my current fantasy WIP fixation, I’ve continued to work on that story; mostly in terms of world-building and outlining the plot, but I’ve also written a few thousand words for it too.

#mine #writing #writing round-up #wip #book reviews

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luzisahomosexual · 3 months

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The foxes just won another game. Neil waddles over to Andrew to celebrate using his racket cos he’s so exhausted. When he gets there, he smiles at him before falling to the floor. Without a word, Andrew sits down in front of him. They both sit there silently, staring into each others eyes with their foreheads pressed together.

And that’s how the press and fans started speculating about their relationship😋

#I can’t write for shit but they have been taking up 99% of my thoughts for the past 2 weeks and #I keep imagining lil scenarios like this so thought I’d post one if idk #this is probably rlly cringe but wtva💀#HELP THEY HAVE CHANGED MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY #I CANT GO 10 MINUTES WITHOUT THINKING OF THEM #AND THE BOOKS IN GENERAL #I GET HYPERFIXATIONS ALL THE TIME BUT THEY ARE RARELY AS INTENSE AS THIS😭#the last time it was this bad was when young royals s1 first came out and #I felt physically sick if I wasn’t watching the show #like literally #I had a shower and after it I was literally rolling round on the floor cos I felt so sick #love that #yey autism #woop woop #andreil #all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil have taken over my life

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waitineedaname · 8 months

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"Amestris is an allegory for nazi Germany" you fool. Amestris is not an allegory for just nazi Germany -- it's an allegory for genocidal, fascist, militaristic governments as a whole. Yes, it has parallels to fascist Europe, but it also has parallels to xenophobic militaristic US and imperialist Japan. The point is not "look at this outlier of a country committing atrocities," the point is that the country committing atrocities might be your country and you might be complicit in it no matter how morally upstanding you might think you are. To act like only one government is capable of committing genocide blinds you to the potential that any other government might commit genocide too.

#fma #im writing this at 11pm bc i was thinking about it so hard i couldnt sleep #i havent seen 03 but the nazi germany thing bugs me and i think this is why #like yes the parallels to germany are VERY clear #but also the bit where ishvalan soldiers were being rounded up immediately reminded me of the japanese internment camps in the us #and the oppression of the ishvalans is at least somewhat inspired by the oppression of the ainu in japan #the point is that it's COMPLICATED #this series is basically You Are Not Immune To Propaganda #anyway. stepping off my soapbox now.#im putting this in my drafts and i'll give it another read tomorrow to see if i should post it #<- it's been almost a week now and I'm finally releasing this from my drafts #it's a hot take but I'm gonna say it anyway #fma posting

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netherfeildren · 5 months

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✨fellow fic writers!!!✨

i’ve been thinking it’d be so fun to do a year end round up with some of our favorite lines or snippets of our own writing of this year as 2023 comes to a close. i was so proud of myself for finally taking the leap and posting my first piece of fic, and i’m so proud of the body of work i’ve amassed this year, and i’m so so proud of everyone else who’s written their little hearts out this year too!

so please, if you’re so inclined, drop your most favorite quotes and lines from your own work of the year in the reblogs!!! i’m so keen to see everyone give themselves a dandy little pat on the back, i think we all deserve it! 🥰🤩💗

#year end round up!#vic talks #fanfic writing #din djarin fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #fanfiction

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megaerakles · 5 months

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The first thing Jason noticed was that his head was pounding. The second thing that he noticed was that he was lying in a puddle. The third thing that he noticed, after peeling open his eyes, was that he was in a vaguely familiar alleyway in Crime Alley—which happened to be on the other side of the city from where he’d been before getting hit with the energy blast from the Villan de jour’s contraband ray gun.

Something must have gotten busted in the circuitry of his helmet in the blast because the built in comms were making an incessant, high pitched noise that only made the pain in his head sharper, and the internal screens were all wonky and illegible. A quick glance around didn’t reveal any company, so with a groan he pushed himself up and reached for the helmet, twisting it off and setting it aside. “Motherfucker,” he grumbled, rubbing a gloved hand against his temples. The pain was beginning to fade, thankfully, but unfortunately the gaps in his memory remained, and he had no good way to explain how he’d gotten here. Well, one of the others might have an answer, so he reached up to flick on the secondary comm he kept in his ear for when his helmet was off, and—

—nothing. Just the hiss of static that indicated a channel was offline. With a steadily growing frown, he kept flipping through, going through every single channel used by the Bats, and nothing. Nada. Zilch. Either Jason’s comm unit had been fried by the blast that took him out in the first place, or… something worse had happened.

A faint tinkling sound came from behind him and in a second Jason had twisted and rolled into a crouch, his hand flying to one of his guns as he scanned the alleyway. He didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean shit. He narrowed his eyes and reached up to tap the side of his mask a few times, cycling the lenses of his domino until the thermal vision activated. And—aha! Huddled behind the dumpster was a small, human shaped heat signature. A child, then, and based on his read out, a cold one. Likely homeless, and hiding from the strange adult man who’d shown up in their alleway. Since most of the alley kids trusted him to protect them by now, this one probably hadn’t gotten a good look at his helmet.

On the one hand he really should try to regroup with the others or at least figure out what the deal was with his comms, but on the other hand, fuck ‘em, his family could hold on for five minutes while he checked in with this kid and tried to see if he could find them a better place to spend the night. He straightened up but relaxed his posture and slowly approached the dumpster, making sure his footfalls were audible but not overtly menacing. When he was close enough to be heard without shouting, he cleared his throat and spoke in his gentle, talking-to-kids voice.

“Hey, it’s just me. It’s Red Hood. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The kid didn’t respond, so with a sigh, Jason knelt down and slowly eased his head around the corner, trying to get a good look at what he was dealing with without boxing the poor kid in, and—

Oh. Oh shit. The kid was a painfully thin, grimy little thing, with greasy black hair plastered to his forehead and big blue eyes that had seen far too much for his young age and yet had not lost the barest traces of childhood innocence, but he would, Jason knew he would, because he knew this goddam kid because this kid was him.

What fresh time travel hell was this?

———

The first thing Tim noticed was the headache that felt like it was splitting his skull in two. The second thing he noticed was that he appeared to by lying on something like a bed of gravel. The third thing he noticed, after peeling his eyes open, was the face of an oddly familiar child peering down at him.

Since Tim was wearing his mask, the child wouldn’t be able to tell he was awake, so Tim decided to stay perfectly still and keep his breathing even so he could see what this kid wanted. Maybe he was just a fan who wanted a picture?

Weirdly enough, as soon as that thought passed through his mind, the kid took a step back and lifted up a camera to his face, training the lens on Tim’s prone form. And huh, Tim used to have a camera just like that when he was a—

Holy fuck. Tim bolted upright, causing the kid to yelp and scamper backwards, except his foot caught on some gravel and he fell backwards onto his butt. He started at Tim for a moment, but when Tim didn’t do anything but stare back at him, he started babbling.

“I’m so sorry, I was just checking to see if you were breathing ‘cause you sorta just fell out of the sky onto this rooftop and you weren’t moving so I thought you might be dead, but then I saw that you were breathing after all so I was gonna go and watch from behind the air conditioner to make sure someone came and found you or you woke up ok but then I thought you kinda looked like a superhero and I think superheroes are so cool so I just wanted a quick picture to remember what your costume was like but I didn’t actually get any I swear so if you just let me go we can forget about this it’ll be like it never even happened I won’t tell anyone I promise—”

“Tim,” Tim interrupted, causing the smaller version of himself to fall abruptly silent, before starting to stammer again.

“What? No, I don’t know who you think I am but it’s definitely not anyone named Tim. Nu-uh, no way, the name’s Alvin actually—”

Tim just snorted as he reached up to pull off his domino mask and slowly lowered it so he could smirk at his younger self. “Alvin Draper? I think I’ve heard of you.”

Little Tim’s mouth fell open into a perfect little ‘o’ as he stared up at big Tim before he breathed out, “time travel?”

Tim pursed his lips, considering. “Maybe. Or something cross-dimensional, I’m not sure. I’ll have to look into it,” he said as he considered his younger self again and reviewed his options. An exposed rooftop wasn’t an ideal place to do that, and he wasn’t entirely sure what the closest Bat safehouse would be in this era—judging by his own appearance, this was likely towards the end of Dick’s time as Robin, so it was well before he’d advanced to sleuthing out Bruce’s safehouses in addition to tracking their patrols. But there might be another option… “Mom and Dad home right now?”

Younger Tim hesitated, then shook his head looking resigned in a familiar, painful way. “Burundi,” he said flatly. “Big dig. Won’t be back for months.”

“Ah. Well, that works out for us, in any case, because there will be no one else asking questions about me,” Tim said with a shrug as he pushed himself up. His younger self scrambled up as well, all the while staring at Tim with a mixture of disbelief and awe. “Mind if I stay at your place for a bit while I figure out what’s going on?”

“Of course!” Young Tim nodded quickly, almost desperately, and wow was it a little painful to see just how eager for any bit of attention he’d been back then. Tim’s smile was halfway between nostalgic and bitter as he pulled his grapple gun off his belt.

“Now I know you usually would go grab the bus back to Bristol, but I think I’ll stick out if we do that, so… how do you feel about flying home?” he asked, waving the grapple for emphasis.

Young Tim looked like he might have just died and gone to heaven.

#my writing #my fanfic #tim drake #jason todd #Robin round up #fic snippet #I actually wrote this when I had influenza several weeks ago it turned out pretty good #there’s more of course but it’s not ready yet.#is it clear i love time travel fics yet #well this one is actually dimensional travel but same gist

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