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wanderersbell · 1 year

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lost and found

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff, modern!au

warnings: none

word count: 4444

✧.* when a lost cat drags in your very snarky and attractive apartment neighbor, you end up with a bit more than you bargained for.

for the modern au writing event at @yae-publishing-house

it’s nearly the middle of the night when you see her for the first time - a little white cat huddled up by the staircase of your apartment building. your feet are aching from running around all day and your knees are on the brink of giving out from exhaustion, but you don’t even hesitate to approach her and crouch down to get closer the moment you take notice.

she chirps in surprise and stands up to greet you right away, brushing her cold pink nose against your hand and dragging her body against you affectionately with her tail twitching happily in the air.

“aww, sweet girl,” you whisper in a soft voice while scratching lightly around her ears. “aren’t you cold out here?”

the cat of course does not understand this, but she still meows once you finish talking before bumping her head against your hand in response. her fur is lightly covered in dirt and dust from being outdoors and she isn’t wearing a collar which would normally indicate a stray, but she’s so friendly that you can’t help but gnaw your lip in worry.

it’s not abnormal to see homeless cats in the area, and all of which are well taken care of by the people in the neighborhood, but what if she’s somebody’s lost pet? what if she hasn’t eaten in days and nobody has seen or fed her?

these thoughts are what have you ignoring the pain in your legs and jogging to the convenience store a few blocks away to pick up some cans of wet food. thanks to it being ridiculously late on a tuesday night the building is entirely empty aside from the cashier, so in record time you’re able to secure the goods and return to the little white cat that’s still waiting patiently under the concrete steps where you left her.

as soon as the lid is off the can she’s circling around your feet and meowing so you’re quick to set it down and let her at it. just as you had feared, she scarfs it down in under a minute before turning to you with her big green eyes like she’s asking for more. she probably hadn’t eaten for a while, and your chest flutters with anxiety about what to do in this situation.

animals aren’t allowed in this complex, so if she’s a pet she’s likely from the neighborhood nearby and ended up here after escaping her house. surely they have some sort of community group where everyone in the area can report things like porch thefts and lost animals, so you take your phone out to snap a few pictures of her while she continues to lazily brush against your legs.

“i’m sorry i can’t bring you inside,” you say to her sadly, slipping off your jacket to fold up and place under the steps for her to lay on. “i’ll make sure people know you’re missing, so stay here okay? i’ll bring you food again tomorrow.”

she once again meows very politely when you finish, and it takes everything in you to start walking up the stairs to your door and leave her behind knowing she’s stuck out here in the cold all night. when you finally get inside and kick your shoes off the first thing you do is download a neighborhood forum app and make a missing animal report, and it’s only seconds after that when you flop down on your bed and are out like a light.

the next morning, she isn’t there.

your jacket is still where you left it and covered in white fur from her laying on it, but the cat herself is nowhere to be found. you still leave an open can of food for her anyways, but the rest of the day while you’re out all you can think about is whether or not she’s safe and if you’ll ever see her again.

nobody has responded to the report you made last night yet, not even a single like left on the post despite the page having gotten multiple views, and you’re tempted to post in a few other neighborhoods nearby by decide to hold off and see if she comes back before jumping the gun.

later that night when you finally return, she’s curled up on your jacket under the stairs again. a tidal wave of relief rushes through you as you reach into your bag to pull out a can of food and peel the lid off.

alerted by the sound, the little white cats’ head shoots up and she’s already padding her way over to you before her eyes have even fully focused on the source of the noise. when she realizes it’s you, a series of delighted trills leave her throat and it takes everything in you not to scoop her up into your arms and baby her.

you sit with her for a bit longer after she finishes eating before bidding her goodnight and reminding her to stay put until tomorrow.

it’s only minutes after you’ve fled the scene that someone else who had also taken up the task of looking out for this cat for the time being approaches the stairs and clicks their tongue in annoyance at the sight of an empty can of food.

when tomorrow comes around, if she’s still there and nobody has responded to your post, you make an oath to yourself that you’ll sneak her inside and risk the consequences of doing so. it’s certainly more trouble than it’s worth, but you can’t sleep knowing she’s out there all by herself and the fleeting thought of her being taken by someone else and stuck in a shelter fills you with dread throughout the night.

she’s not there in the morning again, but you still leave an open can out for her like yesterday and have a little more confidence this time that she’ll still be waiting under the stairs when the day is over.

as expected, the sight that greets you as the moon hangs high in the sky when you finally reach the entrance to your complex is a sound asleep bundle of white fur on a jacket.

tonight is the night that you’ll take her up to your apartment and look after her, but you decide to let her eat first while you think up a backup plan in case picking her up and carrying her won’t work. a small smile sits on your face as you kneel next to her and watch her eat, lazily scratching up and down her back while she purrs between each bite.

“so you’re the one who’s been feeding my cat.” a male’s voice rings out from somewhere behind you.

you jump at the sound and snap your head around to face the source, the white feline slipping away from your hand to slink over to the person who spoke and meow at his feet expectantly. about ten feet away, with his arms crossed over his chest, stands the most attractive guy you have ever seen in your life.

the first thing you notice is his eyes - a vivid violet ocean encapsulated in his irises as he glares down at your hunched form. there’s a small amount of bright red eyeliner smudged under his waterline in a tiny wing that perfectly compliments his complexion and distracts you so much that you almost don’t see the two black rings in his bottom lip, to which your stomach does a little flip upon noticing. cropped indigo hair frames his face delicately, a sharp contrast against his ivory skin that looks soft and unblemished from where you’re crouching.

when you finally recover from how unfairly gorgeous he is and process his words, your brows crease together in a frown.

“your cat?” you can only watch helplessly as the white feline stretches up on her back legs and balances herself against his shins until he reaches down and scoops her up.

“yeah, obviously.” his tone is sarcastic as he gestures to the animal in his arms with a nod.

“then why does your cat live outside?” when you finally push yourself to your feet you realize he’s no taller than you are, standing at perfect eye level as you regard him with a suspicious look.

what kind of terrible person leaves their pet outside? it’s clear to you that he’s bullshitting and the cat isn’t really his, but if he’s so keen on being a jerk about it then he can have the same energy in return.

he purses his lips (curse those metal rings glinting under the fluorescent stair lights) and tilts his head back in a mocking manner. “she’s mine because she likes me the most.”

we’ll see about that.

“c’mere kitty, pspspsps.” at the sound of your voice the cat squirms out of his hold and pads over to you with a series of sweet little meows. the smug look you send him as you lean down to scratch her ears has his jaw visibly clenching with irritation.

“also, what’s so wrong with me feeding your cat?” you continue. “shouldn’t you be grateful?”

“grateful? she’s going to end up fat if we both feed her.” the man huffs.

“okay? so then stop feeding her.”

“no,” he retorts. “you stop feeding her. i was doing it first.”

“well that’s a shame. what do you want me to do about it? shall we take turns?” your tone is heavily sarcastic as you suggest this, and you’re positive that if looks could kill you’d be six feet under by now.

“what, like divorced parents? isn’t that always rough on the kids?” he counters and shakes his head. “she deserves better so just let me handle it.”

you look him up and down suspiciously, trying your best to ignore how hot he is. “why should i? i don’t know you.”

“are you-“ he releases an aggrieved sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “fine, then let her choose.”

the cat, who’s sitting patiently watching you both exchange heated remarks, doesn't move a muscle. thirty tense seconds pass while she just looks between you and him with mild confusion, her tail flicking softly behind her until she gets bored and slinks off to go curl up on your discarded jacket, leaving the two of you standing in defeat.

“just let me take her inside.” you sigh, too tired to keep this up.

the man looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “inside? are you crazy? we aren’t allowed to have pets.”

“okay, and?” you shrug. “you’re telling me that wasn’t also your plan?”

his eyes close and he seems to be contemplating something for a few seconds before speaking up again.

“one more night.”

“what?”

“one more night and if she chooses you tomorrow, i won’t argue.” he explains carefully, red lined violet eyes watching you closely. “but if she picks me, i’m taking her instead.”

reluctant to agree but unwilling to back down, you give a short nod and the deal is set. you both turn away at the same time without another word.

the next day, as the two of you meet under the stairwell at the same time and the tiny white cat beelines past you towards the man who wears a grin so smug it has your hands clenching into fists in irritation.

“have you even had a cat before?” you begin interrogating him, failing at trying not to be jealous over the whole thing. “do you even have everything you need? do you have electrical wires hidden and things she could eat and choke on picked up?”

he looks like he wants to argue, but instead shuts his mouth in a thin line and turns his head the other way, bangs falling into his eyes with the action.

“…no.”

with a defeated groan you drop your head into your hands and heave a large sigh.“we’re going to the store then. you need a litter box so she needs to stay out here until you do.”

“wait- we’re going to the store?” he asks, clearly against the idea of you tagging along. “why can’t i-“

“c’mon.” he pauses when you turn on your heel to start walking the other way, leaving him momentarily perplexed while staring after your retreating form.

there’s a place open for another hour down the road that should have everything you need, and you’re determined to not let the cat sleep out in the for cold another night so even though you can’t stand this guy, you may as well do it for her.

after swearing under his breath the man speed walks to catch up to you. the walk there is completely silent and neither of you acknowledges each other once, but once you walk through the sliding doors into the building you look over at him and wait until he meets your eyes.

“i’ll grab the litter, you grab the food. it’s that way.” you say while pointing to the isle. without another word, you take off towards your destination and spend a few minutes checking prices on different brands.

it’s not long before the man returns to your side with a small bag in his hand and you realize a little too late that of course he would have no idea which kind of food to pick.

“put that back,” you tell him while grabbing a case of litter.

“what? why?” he asks sharply, looking slightly offended.

“that brand is bad for them.” you explain while following hin back to the food isle. he’s visibly vexed as he trails after you.

“if it’s bad for them then why would they sell it?” the man deadpans.

“good question. here, grab this one.”

silently, he takes the bag from you and you lead him down a few other isles to grab things like food and water dishes and a small pack of mouse toys with bells before taking everything to self checkout. he’s strangely quiet the entire time, just letting you do your thing after having no choice but to accept that he knows nothing on the matter, and you can’t help but find it a bit endearing.

when you scan the items, the man hovers behind you silently until you pull out your wallet to pay. he rudely shoves you aside with his shoulder and swipes his card before you can even begin to protest, but anything you were about to say dissipates into thin air and is replaced upon seeing the name on his card.

“kunikuzushi?” you ask with mild surprise, reading the letters out loud.

the man’s shoulder tense up at the sound of his name coming from your lips but he’s quick to recover and clicks his tongue.

“don’t call me that.” he grumbles, typing in his pin with a little more force than necessary. despite his irritation expression, there’s a hint of amusement in the way he speaks that makes you think he truly is just putting up an act.

you watch him for a few beats to figure out if he’s serious or not before humming and nodding like you’ve just come to a conclusion.

“kuni it is then.”

kuni snaps his head around to glare at you, but the pink flush that stains the tips of his ears and cheekbones gives him away. “don’t call me that either.”

you give him an innocent smile and reach around him to grab the receipt and bag before heading to the exit, not bothering to wait and see if he follows. as expected, his footsteps approach from behind.

“cant believe i’m stuck living in the same complex as you.” kuni hisses under his breath when he catches up. you find yourself staring at his lip rings for a moment before ripping your eyes away.

“speaking of that,” you start to say, completely ignoring his prior words. “how long have you lived there? why haven’t i seen you before?”

kuni looks like he’d rather not answer, huffing an exasperated sigh. “around five months now.”

he won’t tell you much, but you force a little more small talk out of him until the two of you finally arrive back at the complex and scoop up the cat to bring her inside. she doesn’t make a sound once on the way up, and you can’t help but thank her silently for keeping quiet since you’re definitely not supposed to be doing this.

when you step inside, kuni’s apartment is clean and organized and dark just as you had expected. the walls are almost completely bare save for a few band posters and the only things decorating the small living room are a black leather couch and a tv on a simple glass stand. it takes no time at all to set things up while the white cat sniffs around the house and takes in her new surroundings.

the litter box gets tucked into a corner of the bathroom, the food and water dishes set on a mat by the kitchen counter, and a few toys are laid out around the place where she can bat them around as she pleases.

“you have to let me come visit whenever i want.” you demand when you’re finally being shooed out of the front door by him.

“what? absolutely not.” kuni snaps, turning back to give you an offended look.

“you have to! wouldn’t she be sad if she never saw me again? divorced parents both still get to see the kids.” you insist with full seriousness.

kuni watches you quietly, absentmindedly moving his lip rings back and forth with his tongue before sighing in defeat.

“fine, whatever.” he concedes. you’re about to pump your fist in delight, but he stops you to finish. “you can visit once a month.”

“one a week.”

“no.” he argues.

“please.”

your begging seems to do the trick, because kuni’s shoulders quickly drop in defeat when you look up at him with pleading eyes. “are you serio- fine. once a week.” he grumbles. “just get out now, it’s late.”

and so, because you’re fairly certain he’ll let you get away with it, you start showing up every night to see her.

kuni acts like it’s the biggest inconvenience ever when you turn up at his door every time after that, but he never denies you entry, begrudgingly stepping aside and letting you coddle the little white cat that lives with him.

you tell him about your day even if he insists he doesn’t care, and still listens intently and tells you about his when you ask in return. you learn more about him this way. he won’t tell you exactly what his job is, only that he works from home and occasionally takes small trips to collect something from people. it’s vague and makes no sense to you, but you don’t pry more than that.

he’ll sit on the couch while you kneel on the floor and throw her toys around, watching you laugh and fawn over her until he eventually kicks you out.

you discover that he’s actually incredibly easy to get along with, nowhere near as cold and unapproachable as he looks at first sight. he’s attentive and clever and loves nothing more than to laugh at your expense, but you find that you don’t mind letting him if it means you get to see the frown slip off of his face, even if just for a moment.

this little routine continues for almost an entire month before one night, kuni shoves his phone in your face with a grim expression. after pushing it away a bit to actually be able to see the screen, your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach.

it’s a missing pet post, with images of the little white cat attached.

after reading a bit, the situation becomes clear. her family had gone on vacation and hired someone to watch her, but that person let her escape and never said a word about it. her family didn't find out until they returned to her being gone, and were now clearly frantically searching for her and hoping she was still alive.

“oh no,” you whisper sadly, looking towards the feline who’s happily curled up on the couch. when you meet kuni’s eyes, he almost looks a bit torn.

“i’m calling them tomorrow.” he informs you bluntly.

“wait, but-“ you start, trying to ignore the stinging burn of tears that threaten to fill your eyes. seeing the cat, seeing him, has become something to look forward to in the last month. the thought of seeing her go has a lump forming in your throat, bringing with it the selfish urge to keep her for yourself instead of doing the right thing and taking her back.

“her family needs her. she needs to go home.” kuni says in a way that shows he’s trying his best to be sympathetic.

even though he seems fine for the most part, there’s no way he isn’t going to miss her. he took the risk of letting her stay with him, and went out of his way to make sure she was comfortable and well taken care of.

“i know, you’re right. i just…” you trail off quietly, fingernails digging into your palms.

kuni meets your eyes, and a moment of silent understanding rushes between you like a heavy current.

“i know.”

the next day, she gets returned to her very relieved family. kuni takes care of it since you’re not home, and then a week passes by, as slow and miserable as ever. you have no reason to go over to kuni’s apartment anymore, so you haven’t spoken to him since, and every night you go straight to your own place and spend the evenings by yourself.

it’s impossible not to miss the sweet little cat, the pleasant trill of her meows and the softness of her sides rubbing against your legs.

but it’s even more impossible not to miss kuni. the way he always waited for you to stop talking before he answered, the way he would open and close the door for you even while telling you to get out of his hair, the sound of his stifled laughter when you would trip over a cat toy or mess up your words.

one night, when you come home late as per usual, kuni is sitting at the bottom of the stairs appearing bored out of his mind. you don’t even notice him at first, but when you do your whole body freezes in fear until you realize who it is.

“you scared me!” you accuse sharply, slightly irked by the unapologetic look on his face.

he’s as attractive as ever, his red lined eyes creased together in amusement as he watches you gather your bearings. it may just be a trick of the light, but kuni seems almost nervous as he stands up and approaches you.

“did you eat dinner?” he asks while shoving his hands into his sweatshirt pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

“um,” you respond intelligently, willing your eyes not to stray away to his lip rings. “no?”

he clicks his tongue and turns to start climbing up the stairs. “then come on.”

you follow after him wordlessly, having an internal battle the whole way up over whether or not he just asked you out or if you’re reading way too much into this.

why was he even waiting for you tonight? he barely managed to put up with you whenever you came to pester him and the cat, so there’s no way he’s actually interested in you… right?

“you eat meat, yeah?” kuni asks as he opens the door for you and waits for you to step inside. his apartment is the same as you remember, the only difference being one less cat and a navy throw blanket folded over the back of the couch.

brushing off the way it makes your heart twinge sadly, you take off your shoes and nod. “yeah, i do.”

“good.”

in the next thirty minutes of comfortable silence that pass, you find yourself sitting on the couch and helplessly watching as kuni moves around the kitchen and prepares something with practiced ease. the sleeves of his sweatshirt are rolled up to his elbows as he works, showing off his pale forearms in an all too distracting way.

his bangs keep falling into his eyes and every time he tries to blow them out of the way you have to fight back a smile. his hair was a bit shorter when you had first met, so he must be due for a haircut by now.

it’s strange to think that in the last month you had managed to become so fond of this grumpy stranger who nearly tried to fight you over a lost cat, but there’s no denying the way your heart rate picks up when he glances over and catches you staring every now and then.

as the delicious smell of stir fry fills the place and your mouth water uncontrollably, you make your way over to the small dining table and take a seat at one of the chairs. kuni carries two plates over and places them down before sitting opposite of you.

“sooo,” you finally break the silence. “what’s all this about?”

“eat.” kuni ignores you, gesturing to your plate with his fork.

“but i-“

“eat.” he repeats himself, a bit louder than last time. his violet eyes narrow in your direction when you raise a teasing brow at him.

“fine.” you huff. when you stab some of the food with your fork and shovel it into your mouth, you can’t stop the shock that spreads over your face as the flavor hits your tongue.

“it’s good!” you gush in genuine surprise. you never would have thought he was good at cooking.

“of course it is.” kuni says proudly, finally digging into his own portion. he gives a small satisfactory hum as he chews, and you feel your heart twinge again - this time for another reason entirely.

“come over again for dinner tomorrow.” he says with no room for negotiation before taking another bite and avoiding your eyes. the tips of his ears are visibly pink despite the low light and you agree easily with a muffled laugh.

“why are you looking at me like that?” kuni asks suspiciously after he swallows his mouthful, realizing you’ve been watching him a few moments later.

you smile knowingly and look away. “no reason.”

it seems that as fate would have it, finding that little lost white cat was only the beginning.

#yaepublishinghouse #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #genshin impact #my writing

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 10 months

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Hi! Other people have talked about this, but have you ever thought about how the destruction of Kaz's life led to the preservation of the other crows' lives? Without Kaz, none of the other five would have made it to the events of Six of Crows. Inej and Nina would've died at their respective brothels, Wylan and Jesper probably would've died in the streets of the Barrel, and Matthias would've died at Hellgate. I just think it's interesting and almost poetic how all the horrible things that happened to Kaz meant that he was in a position to protect the other crows from horrible fates themselves. Kaz was all alone with no one to help him, but he helped the other crows through his personal tradegy. Five lives were spared while one was destroyed. It's especially considering Kaz's 'destroy everything' mindset. I wonder if the crows realise this. I wonder if Kaz realises this. How would they all react? Sorry, this got really rambly, I just can't stop thinking about it. Do you have any thoughts about this? (Hope you don't mind me asking?)

Hi, first of all of course I don’t mind you asking I live getting questions so much!!! And second of all this is such an interesting topic and it’s so true!! This probably includes a lot of the same things that you’ve already said, but I’m just going to copy and paste a text message I sent my friend about this topic about a year ago:

“I’ve thought about this before and I really think it’s a true statement of Bardugo’s writing skill; they’re lives aren’t inexplicably intertwined or connected so they met by fate for an inscrutable purpose, but their connections with each other allow them survival and to achieve their purpose, whether they believe it to be divine or otherwise, but it’s Kaz, who feels outside of or desperate to the group, that is the cause of it all. He represents so much without doing anything, he is their entire life force in so many ways, but the real tragedy of his story is that his happiness was sacrificed because his purpose is to lead them to their purposes. Nina’s purpose is to unify Fjerda and Ravka, Matthias’ purpose is to lead her there, Inej’s purpose is to protect young people like her, Wylan’s purpose is to create change in the upper classes and to make people realise the hardships faced by everyone in the city, and Jesper’s purpose is to guide Wylan to that. But Kaz? Kaz doesn’t get his own fulfilment, he had to sacrifice his childhood to give them their fulfilment instead, but he will never realise that. His loss of Jordie means that all of them can achieve their purpose and change the world, but Kaz has been left with nothing but blame that he must find someone to pin on. So he gives it to Rollins. Rollins is by no means a good person, but the undeniable fact is that Jordie still would have caught the Queen’s Lady Plague, and probably still died from it because even the richest people who could afford medicine were still being killed by the outbreak. Kaz needs someone to blame and get revenge on so he can bring his own fulfilment about, and I think that’s the most heartbreaking thing about him. Everyone he’s ever cares for found their purpose, but he has nothing beyond destroying Pekka Rollins - and he even admits it himself. He says he’ll take down Rollins, and when asked what he’ll do next he says “I don’t know. Build an empire, then burn it to the ground” ”

Fun fact: that conversation culminated in me saying that I wished there was some way of writing my essays about the Grishaverse, or basically saying that essays shouldn’t be gatekept to academia and that if I want to write and publish studies of the Grishaverse then I should be allowed to. All of you have made that possible for me, it’s amazing, and I can’t believe there are nearly 1000 of you following along thank you so much

Thanks for your question!!!

#grishaverse #leigh bardugo #six of crows #crooked kingdom #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #nina zenik #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #kanej #soc kaz #six of crows kaz #six of crows meta #soc meta

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marzipanandminutiae · 1 year

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Who would you consider the most GNC character in Crimson Peak?

Interesting question!

Aesthetically none of them are, really. Thomas and Lucille are outdated in their wardrobes, as Edith notices, but they're right on target for their expected gender presentations. Edith, too- the suit she wears to her publisher's office may have menswear inspiration, but it's a style that was quite mainstream and popular for women in the era she's portraying (c. 1895- 6 years before the movie is actually set, but we'll let it slide because the costumes are so gorgeous).

Now, if you get into gender roles, everything is on its head. One thing I believe Del Toro did intentionally was playing with gendered archetypes in Gothic stories. Thomas takes on the "femme fatale" role, seducing the hero(ine) into a trap before ultimately regretting his actions too late and trying to make it right. And he's been occupying a conventionally feminine space in his own life since childhood, too, with his sister protecting and quite literally saving him since they were children. His sole contribution to the murders is also unusual for a male character: poison, normally considered a "feminine" weapon. All the brutality and direct violence is Lucille's doing.

Speaking of Lucille, she's all over the place re: gendered behavior. On the one hand, taking on the protector role for Thomas is definitely outside the norm for Gothic female leads. On the other, by the standards of her time, she slots perfectly into the Angel In the House archetype: a woman who acts as an emotional rock for her man, has no ambitions outside the home, controls the domestic sphere absolutely, and gives of herself endlessly for others. Self-sacrifice was a much-lauded "feminine virtue" in the Victorian era, and I think that's an important lens through which to view Lucille's actions, in terms of gender roles. There are layers here- as I said, she takes on the more active "masculine" role in her relationship with Thomas, but at a deeper and more historically-informed level, she's a dark mirror of a Proper Victorian Lady. For Gothic literature, she breaks gender roles; for the context of her era, less so.

(Even her hobbies are feminine-coded for the time period: natural sciences like lepidopterology were considered appropriate for a lady, if she had no intent towards a career; reading and playing the piano and writing poetry doubly so.)

Edith stands on the uncertain ground of the New Woman, a lady of the 1880s-1900s who broke with conventional gender roles in some ways while upholding them in others. The New Woman was usually feminine in appearance, but she worked outside the home, had sociopolitical opinions and publicly voiced them, and embraced "daring" activities like riding bicycles or smoking (Edith does neither, but one unused costume sketch featured her in cycling bloomers standing next to a bike). Media of the day lauded and ridiculed women like this by turns. And Edith very much lives the contradictions. She's attempting to publish a novel, but she acts as her widowed father's hostess- normal for an unmarried adult daughter back then -and shows evidence of expecting to take on a domestic role at Allerdale Hall once she marries. She is described by her character bio as being a suffragist, but hating politics in general.

In the story, she takes on a role conventionally filled by a man for all her nightgown and candelabra are iconically Gothic Heroine: unraveling the mystery, saving one male "damsel in distress," and violently taking down the final villain standing. So she's sort of there in the middle, in a lot of ways.

(Alan, of course, is just very unhappy to be here. And pretty much Clever, Dashing Victwardian Hero Classic, in the wrong story.)

tl;dr- In terms of presentation, none of them. In terms of behavior and interpersonal roles...probably Thomas. Poor little meow meow, weak-willed and always in need of saving. He's a fainting amoral damsel, Your Honor, and we love him for it.

#ask #anon #crimson peak #long post #meta #thomas sharpe #lucille sharpe #edith cushing

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year

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Bruce Wayne x Male!reader

Summary: (Y/N) just wants to spend time with Bruce after work. Bruce spoils him rotten.

Warnings: None, just fluff.

So, this is going to be the 3rd part to the teacher series and it's kind of a filler because I have one idea for a oneshot, but it will take me a while to write due to school and other commitments, but it will get written and published in the near future.

(Y/N) sighed glancing at the watch. It was already 2:30 and his day ended half an hour ago. Why was he still here? Well, a parent was late and they didn't even call to say they were going to be late. Just as he was going to pack up and go to the manor where Bruce was probably waiting. Yes, he moved to the manor after the kidnapping and after Bruce told him he was Batman.

It was a shock, of course, but (Y/N) had accepted that. It took a couple of days to process, but it kind of made sense.

He started packing up, because for one his day was over. He didn't work like most of his coworkers, he worked until 2. He was happy with the schedule and he was even happier today. Bruce was home today, on a Friday none the less, which meant that he was going to spend the Friday afternoon with his boyfriend.

That is, if the parent shows up. He sighed. If they aren't coming now, they won't come. He started packing up his stuff.

" Why are you packing up? " A high pitched voice asked him from the door.

" Well miss Jones, my workday is over and you didn't call or let me know you were going to be late and I am under no obligation to stay here after my work day is over. "

" Then why did you call me here? I was in the middle of something important. "

" I wanted to talk about your sons grades, they have been going down in the last few weeks. "

" Well, that is your fault. "

(Y/N) was stumped. What the hell?

" How is it my fault? "

" Luke always says your subject is too difficult. You need to make it easier. "

" Ma'am, my subject isn't too difficult. I have kids who are aceing it. And besides, I have offered him some time after class to help him, but he said no. So, we can meet again next week today, but preferably at 2. "

" So I came here for nothing? " Miss Jones scoffed.

" Yes, because you were late and I don't get paid overtime. "

Miss Jones scoffed and left his room. He sighed in relief, but groaned when he heard his phone ringing, but that groan quickly turn into an excited yes. Bruce was calling.

" Hey hun, did the parent come? "

" Yeah, but half an hour late, so I told her we could meet next week. "

" Okay, I am back at the manor and waiting for you. It's been a while since we spent some quality time together. "

(Y/N) smiled sadly. Bruce was right.

" I know Bruce. " (Y/N) responded, leaving his room, going straight to his car. He was going to cuddle Bruce until he goes on patrol.

" And that is why I am going to smother you in affection darling. "

" And I can't wait for that to happen. I will see you in a little while, I have to drive. "

" Sure thing, drive safely. "

(Y/N) hanged up and got into the car, putting the keys in and started the car. He can't wait for Bruce to smother him in affection.

After a long drive back to the manor, he parked the car and took his bag. He closed the door and quickly went into the manor. He took of his shoes and put his jacket away on the hook. Then he popped his head into the living room. No Bruce.

Okay, he must be in their room then. He made his way up the old staircase and went straight to the bedroom. He stopped for a moment once he smelt something flowery. Could it be roses? Or lavender?

He opened the door. He heard the water going from the bathroom and Bruce was just stepping out. The two men locked eyes for a moment, before they reached out for one another in an embrace.

" Hey hun, I missed you. " Bruce muttered into (Y/N)'s hair.

" I missed you too Bruce. Did you about to have a shower? "

" I wanted us to have a bath together. If that's alright with you. "

" It is. And also, do you mind if I change into your clothes? " (Y/N) asked, looking up because of the height difference.

" Hun, I have told you before, you can always take my clothes. I love how big they are on you. " Bruce smirked, leaning down to peck (Y/N)'s nose.

" Go on and get into the tub. I will just pick out your favorites and I will join you in a minute. "

With a kiss to Bruce's lips, (Y/N) went to the bathroom. Bruce prepared him a bubble bath. (Y/N) stripped and threw his clothes into the basket. He looked at the warm water, then stepped into the bath. He lowered himself into the warm water, sighing from the warmth that enveloped him. He closed his eyes, leaning back. It was truly relaxing. He opened his eyes once he heard the door opening.

" Is the water okay? "

" It's perfect Bruce, now please join me. "

Bruce nodded and started taking off his clothes. (Y/N) was compelled to watch Bruce's muscular body.

" Do you like what you see? " Bruce teased his boy.

" I do, now get in and hug me. I need the cuddles. "

Bruce laughed and motioned for (Y/N) to move forward. After (Y/N) had moved forward. After Bruce sat down, he wrapped his arms around (Y/N), making his boy lean against his front. (Y/N) was happy now, content that he was finally wrapped into his lover's arms. He smiled and let out a happy sigh.

" I missed you Bruce. Are those investments finalized?" (Y/N) asked.

" They are. We are officially one of their partners now. "

" That's nice. "

" I missed you too hun. I missed your hugs and kisses, your excitement when you talk about how your students are doing well... I still remember how you pushed Damian to be better and working with him on your own time... " Bruce remembered, smiling at the memory.

" Does this mean that you will have a bit more stable work hours? "

" Until a new business deal, yes. But until then, I will have 9 to 5 work hours. "

(Y/N) hummed, closing his eyes, leaning his head back onto Bruce's chest.

And they stayed like this for a while. They didn't need to say anything, they simply needed one another. After a while they moved to the bed, because they got wrinkly and water got cold.

Right now, lying in bed, facing one another. Bruce's arm was around (Y/N)'s waist, making sure to bring his lover closer.

" Bruce? "

" Yes hun? "

" Do you think that I could come with you to the next gala? "

Bruce's eyes widened slightly. His boyfriend wanted to stay out of the spotlight and he didn't want to be hounded by the media.

" Don't get me wrong, I would love that, but are you sure? There won't be going back. You will be in the spotlight. "

" I know that, but recently I was thinking about it. I am ready for the spotlight and I don't want to feel like I am a dirty secret. And before you say anything, I know I am not that, but I feel like I am. "

Bruce smiled at his lover, moving closer to give him a kiss.

" Okay. If you are 100% sure, then sure. Now go to sleep. I will wake you for dinner. "

(Y/N) nodded and closed his eyes. He felt Bruce pulling the warm covers higher and a gentle kiss to the forehead. Bruce muttered an I love you and settled next to him, ready to take a quick nap. He needs to tell the boys about (Y/N)'s wish, so they could make sure (Y/N) has a perfect gala.

#bruce wayne x male reader #dc x male reader #dc comics #batman x male reader

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mybrainismelted · 4 months

Text

Fic Writers Interview

Thanks for the tag @energievie!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 4, plus my masquerade fic so officially 5

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

About 70,000. One of my works is shared, plus keeping the math vague because of masquerade :)

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Battlefield Chicago

Weed Dreams are made of this

Offices, Onions, and Optimisim

Just Gallavich Things Not listing the other one or where it fits in this list because masquerade, of course

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely. I try to respond to every comment I get, because I appreciate anybody that takes the time to read my work and respond to it!

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

None. I don't do angsty endings, at least not yet!

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Well, only one of the ones I can talk about is actually a completed work, so.... Offices, Onions, and Optimism it is!

7. Do you write crossovers?

Nah

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No yet, which I'm super grateful for. The comments others have been getting lately are horrible.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Pleading the 5th (I know I'm not American, I'm doing it anyway)

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I know of

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Weed Dreams is co-written with @jrooc

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Gallavich, of course

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

oh, I have a bunch of unpublished WIPS, so one of them most likely

15. What are your writing strengths?

Comedy, and the ability to tell a story without a lot of dialogue

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Scene description. Where are they? Who knows! Let your imagination decide what each space looks like

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Hmmm. It can serve a purpose in the right situation. I don't think I would do it without consulting with someone who speaks the language.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Ok. Well... published, it's Gallavich. If we are talking about stuff I wrote just for personal enjoyment, my very first foray many, many years ago was in adding to Mercedes Lackey's Valdemar book series.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Not sure there is anything else right now - no room in my brain for anything else

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written

Ok, well I love Battlefield Chicago, even on the days when it's a slog to get the next chapter finished. But Weed Dreams just makes me laugh, so probably that one.

tagging some people to join in! @jrooc, @juliakayyy, @notherenewjersey, @ms-moonlight-inn, @depressedstressedlemonzest, @deathclassic, @palepinkgoat

#tag game #fic writer interview

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jokatsuya · 2 years

Text

The little things

Sherlock x reader / Sherlock x Gn/reader

Wordcount: 714

Warnings: actually none as long as you are not a high functioning sociopath (if you are: Watch out! This story contains pure fluff.)

Summary: (Y/n) provides the little things that make Sherlock happy, offering him a moment of peace from the folks like Donovan and Anderson.

A/n: I hope you guys like this little idea of mine and honestly, I love it. Like, imagine the whole thing! I melt away. If you want more stories like this, feel free to request it. At the moment I only plan to write for characters played by Benedict Cumberbatch. But who knows, for Mycroft I could turn a blind eye. Since this is the first story I'm publishing like this, I'd really appreciate any criticism, suggestions and requests. This is my own story, so don't make an Anderson move and publish it as your own. Sharing is allowed though, as is liking. Yours JoKatsuya

Completely beside himself, Sherlock comes storming in and runs up and down quickly, while stroking through his already completely messy hair. He doesn't even seem to notice me as he plops himself down on the couch without giving me the slightest glance. With a few impetuous movements he mumbles himself into his sleeping robe with his back to me.

After staring at him for some time and wondering what is tearing him apart inside, I slowly and quietly get up from the armchair and with a quick look at the kitchen clock, which shows 22:56, I make my way towards the light switch to turn off the large ceiling light.

I creep over to the couch where Sherlock is lying and lie down gently behind him. Even though he alone almost completely fills this space, I somehow manage to lie down next to him comfortably. My hand slowly glides over his back to his, despite the fact that it is ruffled, soft hair. In gentle movements I stroke his untamed curls from his forehead.

The now only dimmed light caresses him immensely generous. After a short time, my hand finds a slow, tender rhythm that I maintain for an indefinite time, while I breathe in the tart musky scent of the man, who, despite his otherwise so cold and antisocial nature towards other people, also has a vulnerable and lonely side to him.

Of course, he does not admit this to himself. Sherlock Holmes openly admitting his feelings? Never! Not even to me really properly. But over the last few years I have come to understand the small gestures of the great consulting detective. One may think I deduce his feelings together. Admittedly a very bad word joke of my side, which however describes our relationship pretty much exactly. For other people a probably very dissatisfying thought, which is thrown at me far too often by others.

I brush one of the stray dark curls behind Sherlock's ear. Judging by his behavior earlier, he must be upset about something, or much more likely, someone. After a few more minutes in the same position and the same routine of my caresses, I feel my hand slowly go numb, leaving only a slight sting.

By means of gentle movements I try to reposition myself, taking my hand from the so calmed Sherlock, who is rarely seen like this. This action is followed by a deep grumble and when I, still unable to find a better positioning, don't continue my crawling, Sherlock's rough voice rings out: >>Continue.<<

A grin sweeps across my face as he slides a little further to the back of the couch and I can finally take up a comfortable position again. My hand wanders back into his curls and starts again with the same rhythm as before. >>Who was it this time? Anderson?<<, I ask half in jest, half foreboding.

>>Anderson.<<, he passes briefly, places his head a little differently and continues, >>He really thought he could solve the case himself and contaminated so much evidence.<<

My grin widens and I press my face against his back, hoping he won't notice, but wrong thinking, after all, he is the great Sherlock Holmes.

>>Are you laughing at me?!<<, he drives at me with his face rushing to me and his eyebrows scrunched together. I bite my lip and look into his blue-gray eyes examining me. He never fails to fascinate me. Little things like a simple laugh in a light-hearted, intimate situation and a highly intelligent man just don't seem to go together, I guess.

>>But isn't this giving you a chance to...um...expose him in front of everyone?<<

A brief moment of silence and an absent look on his part before saying nothing more. He turns away from me again and puts his head back in front of my hand. With a triumphant feeling I go back to my previous activity. Just knowing that this self-proclaimed sociopath accepts such a gesture from my side so openly is a wonderful feeling that no one else gets from him. No, no one but me and that's one of those little things I mean.

Such little things, which are a completely normal gesture for normal couples, get such a precious meaning through him, which makes him so special.

Strictly do not: copy, claim or translate those stories of mine anywhere else

#sherlock x reader #benedict cumberbatch #bbc #sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock bbc #Benedict Cumberbatch x reader #Sherlock fic #sherlock fanfic #sherlock x y/n #sherlock x you #Benedict Cumberbatch x you #Benedict Cumberbatch x y/n #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #221b #221b baker street

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game-set-canet · 2 years

Note

Another Jannik request. You are also tennis player, but you are not in top 100, co you can afford your own physio on the tournament’s so Jannik is helping you to recover after match. (Massage, passive stretching.. you name it)

No disadvantage

Pairing: Jannik Sinner x reader

warnings: none

author’s note: sorry that it took me so long to write and publish it! I had quite a big writer's block 😩 but I hope you like it! I tried my best! (also: pls note that English isn’t my first language! (and maybe my ambition outweighed my talent 😂)

MY MASTERLIST

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

The Australian Open has always been your favourite tournament of the year. Even as a little kid, you used to watch it on TV and dreamt to be part of this amazing tournament. And now, 12 years later you are finally here! It’s your first time here in Australian and you even managed to qualify for the main round!

The only downer is the fact that Camille wasn't here - Camille is a good friend of yours who usually helps you as a physio at the tournaments in Europe. But here in Australia she couldn't travel with you and by now you can feel every muscle in your body. Your father tried to help you as good as he could, but even though he was your coach and tried very hard, he couldn't help you with the sore muscles. The loosening exercises that Camille had shown you didn’t help anymore. Your father had already asked various physios of other players, and some had agreed to look after you, but of course their own players had priority.

You had just finished your match. A close three set match but you did it. You won. You can’t remember the actual ranking, but you might get Top 105 after this win. You are very happy about your win, but you have a strong pulling in your shoulder. During the last set of one of your services, a sharp pain went through your shoulder and neck and although the sharp pain had subsided, there is still a dull ache in your neck muscles. You sigh and stretch out on the mat on the floor of the cool-down room. With each breath you feel the tension in your shoulders and neck, and you let out a loud cry of pain.

"Are you alright?" you suddenly hear a voice next to you. Without looking up, you murmur a quiet "No" - assuming it’s just a member of the WTA staff.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just tension in my shoulder."

The stranger settles down on the floor right next to you: "Where's your physio?"

Your head is still resting on the mat, eyes closed: "In London, probably."

"In London?"

"Yes, normally a friend of mine is my physio, but she couldn't come with me to Australia because of the quarantine regulations because she's not officially my physio and-" you lift your head to look at the WTA employee and freeze: sitting in front of you is none other than Jannik Sinner.

Quickly you pull yourself up from the mat and immediately wince because of the pain: “Oh my god…”

Jannik raises his hands in apology: “That looks bad! How did you even manage to survive without a physio until now?”, his smile is little insecure.

You take a quiet breath and brush a single strand of hair behind your left ear: “Luck? Pure power of will? I don’t know…”, the dull ache in your shoulder calms down a bit. Your gaze is fixed on the ugly floor in the cool-down room, but out of the corner of your eyes you are watching him: he wears a trainings outfit, the white cap lying next to his crossed legs. His orange hair lies in perfect curls, only one strand rests on his forehead.

He plays with the sweatband on his wrist and doesn’t seem to know to do or to say next.

A few seconds pass without a word.

“Can I help you?”

You look at him with wide, surprised eyes. Maybe you're just imagining it, but his cheeks look a little redder than they did a few minutes ago.

“I think, the only thing would be for you to lend me your physio”, you try to joke, your cheeks heating up as well.

“Of course! My Physio will be here in about half an hour! I’m sure he has enough time to give you a proper massage or something!”

Before you can think about it, you it slips out of your mouth: “Oh my god, that would be-“, you interrupt yourself, suddenly remembering your manners, “I mean, no that’s not necessary, I was only joking! I can’t ask for that!”

“No, that’s fine! Honestly! I insist!”, a bright smile appears on his face.

He has a really beautiful smile. And eyes. Eyes which seem to glint.

“Well…thank you…although I feel really bad because I make use of your physio”

“All good! I’m happy to help!”

Silence reigns again. No one of you knows what to say.

But it was Jannik again you broke it. “Congrats to your win by the way! You game was fantastic…I think you’ve hit the most aces of today’s WTA matches.”

“Thank you”, you return his soft smile, “You watched my match?”

Jannik turns his head sharply and breaks the eye contact as his fingers play nervously with his cap, but he nods in response.

You try to ignore the warm feeling in your stomach (and on your cheeks) and take a deep, long breath. But immediately a sharp pain jerks through your body and you exhale shakily because of the pain.

“That’s gonna be a long half an hour until my physio arrives”

You don’t say anything. It feels like all muscles in your upper body are on fire.

Jannik seems to understand your pain because he looks at you pitying: “Yeah…I’m…well, I’m not sure if i…but…”, he’s gnawing on his bottom lip, “I could try to ease it a bit, if you want?”

“You?”

“Yes! I mean, I had a similar problem last week and I think I know what to do…”, he gives you an encouraging smile, “So?”

You don’t think that’s a good idea, partly because he isn’t a proper physio, partly because you feel like you’ve got a swarm of butterflies in your stomach - nevertheless you give him a quick nod and lie back down on the mat.

His fingertips feel hot on your skin. At first he doesn't apply pressure, but only gently strokes you skin - trying to find out where most of the tension is. You can’t help but feel your heart speed up: this is a bad idea.

“Tell me, when it’s too much, ok Y/N?”, his voice is just a whisper.

Slowly he begins to apply more and more pressure, moving from your shoulder to your neck. The pressure hurts but feels relaxing at the same time. And the pain helps you to stay focused and not to think about the fact that Jannik Sinner is massaging you.

You’re not going to lie: you’ve always had a little thing for him. Although Rafa was your favourite player, Jannik was your favourite out of the “Next Gen”. Not only because he is a very talented young player with a bright future ahead of him but also because he always seems very friendly, humble and very down to earth. You try to watch all his matches and even try to learn some things from him through studying his game in videos. Your father says you could learn a lot from his footwork. Yes, focus on his footwork in the video you watched last night – and not on his hands working real magic on your tensed muscles.

He reaches a certain point, and you couldn’t hold back a moan.

“Good?”

“God, yes!”, and you suddenly realise which sound you made just seconds ago, “Wow, that’s embarrassing! I’m so sorry! I-”

“No, all good! Nothing to be sorry about.”, you hear him laugh quietly but at the same time you feel his fingers tremble a little.

You try to calm your pounding heart and Jannik continues to work his way through your tense muscles.

The silence is interrupted by the soft beeping of a smartphone. Jannik’s hand disappear from your back: “My physio is here. I text him where to find us. He will give you a proper massage.”

“I think you did really well!”, you sit up slowly and carefully, “It’s much much better now!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I can breathe without any sharp pain! You’ve helped me a lot already!”, you smile at him “Thank you so, so much Jannik!”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing! I…can I invite you for a drink? A non-alcoholic one, because we both have to play? As a thank you?”

You except him to say no, and prepare to put on a poker face and not let your disappointment show. But instead of a polite refusal, he beams at you: “I’d love that! Let’s say tonight?”

“Yeah, meet me in the lobby at 7pm?” “Can’t wait! But now I have to go to practise! My physio will meet you here in about 5 minutes!”, Jannik stands up and smiles at you, “See you later, Y/N! And again: Congrats on your win!”

#jannik sinner x reader #jannik sinner imagine #jannik sinner x you #jannik sinner #jannik sinner fanfic #jannik sinner fic #tennis imagine #tennis fic #tennis fanfic #my writing #my imagine #mira's imagines #tennis imagines #tennis fics #tennis fanfics #tennis fanfiction #tennis fanfictions

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chaemolypi · 2 months

Text

Sims 4 Legacy Challenge: Stranger in The Alps by Phoebe Bridgers

Heya! I like to make legacy challenges for the Sims 4 :)

This one here is based off of the album "Stranger in The Alps" by Phoebe Bridgers. I'm not done yet, but the first three gens (Smoke Signals, Motion Sickness, and Funeral) are going to be below.

Once I finish more I'll post them! There will probably be a google doc as well. If you have any pointers or ideas, please message me. I would love to hear other people's opinions.

Hope you enjoy!!

Gen 01: Smoke Signals

Talking through your emotions has always been hard, so instead you’d write about them. You lost your best friend after you got pregnant, now you focus all your attention on music and your baby. You slowly begin to rise in fame through the years, but you still have a missing piece.

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Traits: Music Lover, Loner, Creative

Skills: Two musical skills, Writing

Job(s): Entertainer (Musician Branch), AND a part-time job (Ex.- Barista)

Favorite Color: Deep Blue

Optional:

Bonus Traits: None

Lifestyles: Close-Knit and Indoorsy

Goals/Tasks (Check as Finished)

Complete “Musical Genius” Aspiration.

Master Writing and two musical skills of your choosing (Singing, Guitar, Violin, Piano, etc.).

Acquire the Close-Knit and Indoorsy lifestyles.

Have a relationship with your best friend as a young adult (which results in the heir), and lose contact until you are an elder. You can marry your best friend as an elder.

Only get pregnant/get another sim pregnant once.

Only ever have a romantic relationship with your best friend.

Get to the top of your career (Entertainer: Musician branch) while also having a part-time job.

Put all of your part-time money away for your heir. I use this one by Ravasheen.

Become a celebrity. You can quit your part-time job once you’re a three-star celebrity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gen 02: Motion Sickness

As a kid, paychecks barely covered anything your parent needed (until they got famous, of course), so you vowed to not let your kids grow up the same. They deserve a stable income and home. You looked for stability in the wrong person as a young adult, but maybe you’ll get a second chance later on in life?

Aspiration: Goal-Oriented (Teen), Big Happy Family (Adult)

Traits: Perfectionist, Family Oriented, Loyal

Skills: Parenting, Logic

Job(s): Doctor

Favorite Color: Moss green

Optional:

Bonus Traits: None

Lifestyles: Hungry for Love

Goals/Tasks (Check as Finished)

Complete “Goal-Oriented” aspiration as a teen.

Be a straight-A student as a child and a teen.

Go to college with honors.

Get to the top of your career (Doctor)

Complete “Soulmate” Aspiration.

Master Parenting and Logic skills.

Acquire the Hungry for Love Lifestyle

Have an on-and-off relationship with an adult or elder as a young adult. (Together one season, apart the next, and so on)

You must break up with them once one of you ages up/they die.

Date a new sim afterwards to complete your aspiration for.

Only have children as an old adult and/or elder.

Have at least 3 kids.

Become good friends with your children.

Become best friends with the heir.

Have a movie night with your whole family once a week.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gen 03: Funeral

Your parents are your best friends, and you simply cannot imagine life without them, until the inevitable happens.

When you were younger, you were this cheerful, mischievous person who had friends surrounding you, but once your parents died, things turned for the worst. Without them, you feel like you can’t speak to anyone- except for your childhood best friend, so you two move far away to live on your own far away from your memories. Writing stories about your parents helps you a lot.

Aspiration: Master Writer

Traits: Bookworm, Loyal, Loner

Skills: Writing, Gardening, Handiness

Job(s): Self-employed (Self-Published Author)

Favorite Color: Plum Purple

Optional:

Bonus Traits: Gloomy

Lifestyles: Single-and-Loving-It, Close-Knit

Goals/Tasks (Check as Finished)

Complete “Goal-Oriented” aspiration as a teen.

Have at least 5 close friends and 1 best friend as a child and a teen.

Be close friends with all of your family members.

When your parent(s) die, leave home to live with your best friend in a different world.

Once they die, you can only have a relationship with your best friend and your heir.

Never have a real job; only get money from selling books you write. Your best friend cannot have a job either- must sell what they create.

Complete the “Master Writer” aspiration.

Master writing, gardening, and handiness.

Grow a garden, and grow the death flower.

You cannot date anyone after your parent(s) die.

You and your best friend must adopt at least 2 children.

Never leave your home- the heir can leave for school and/or work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thats all for now! I'm working on Demi Moore but its kinda difficult because its not my favorite song. I would love some feedback though!!

#sims 4 legacy #sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 gameplay #the sims #sims legacy #legacy challenge #sims 4 legacy challenge #ts4 #ts4 legacy #the sims 4 #sims 4 aesthetic #ts4 simblr #ts4 gameplay #ts4cc #my sims

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gaast · 2 months

Note

Why did you start writing horror short stories? You've probably told me before but I'd like to hear again!

Hmmm.

I started writing by writing really awful poetry starting in 5th or 6th grade. I remember in 7th grade English we had to write poems and the teacher read out some of his favorites and he wanted to read one of mine but I said no. That's just how I am.

Anyway, that experience still ruled, because someone in that class wrote something incredible and I was envious.

Well, anyway, one day I overheard a classmate who I respected kinda trashing my poetry, and he was right about it, so I stopped doing poetry and started writing stories. So I was like 13 when that happened, and I was regarded as one of the "emo kids" even if I didn't look the part because I was mentally ill. And also I grew up on like, Invader Zim and the older, edgier Nicktoons, so I was predisposed to writing darker stories.

Almost all of my writing from that era should actually survive on my deviantArt account. I wouldn't recommend it.

I wouldn't necessarily term that writing "horror," though. I was reading more (and therefore getting inspired by) Ayn Rand and Thomas Pynchon at the time (in 9th and 11th grade, respectively), so I wrote more self-consciously metafictional and postmodern stories, for better or worse. So I went from, like, imagining the minds of different fucked up killers to writing a sort of extension of "Six Characters in Search of an Author" mixed with Saw or something.

I sorta stopped writing as I attended college. I joined Tumblr with the fucking url "hewritesthings" and I never wrote things. The last thing I wrote before college was a choose-your-own-adventure-style thread on 4chan's /x/ that turned into a horror comedy piece where an evil flying penis monster was trying to summon John Cusack. That thread got archived.

After I finished grad school, it took me months to get back to reading, let alone writing. The person I was dating at the time and I had been talking about our OCs extensively for years, so I started writing slice of life stories about them as much as I could. Around the time I made this a habit was around the time I started thinking more seriously about what I wanted to do with my writing. At some point I decided I wanted to be published.

I think my repertoire was actually more sci-fi speculative than anything, as a lot of what I wanted to write was actually shit related to technology, as prompted by my Digital Humanities courses in grad school. I had a ton of good ideas I wanted to do for all these different sci-fi concepts, but none really panned out.

Around 2019, though, a few things happened. I joined Mastodon for a while and on the instance I was on I met another writer whose speculative work was inspiring to me. I thought of her as a rival, in a way, as well as a friend. The inspiration she gave me inspired me to write some of the work that I feel denote the transition to my current writing style--"Maintenance," which uses tech to enforce gender binaries in a way verging on horror, as well as the Twines I (at least, at one time) had in my itch page, particularly the one about bleeding out as you hang out with your friend at the mall. That was a bit too self-aware to be horror, but the later Twines I wrote about myself were definitely more in that vein.

Then, for NaNoWriMo, I threw out the initial concept I was developing about life on a space colony and ad-libbed a story about a person with edible skin.

This protagonist stuck with me, and the next year, as my relationship was clearly becoming toxic, I wrote a story expressing my frustrations, using that character as a base. I wrote it for an anthology of queer horror called Skulls & Spells, and it was accepted--my first publication. As part of the promotion for the book, all the authors collected in it answered a few interview questions that they posted on their Kickstarter; these questions were all about horror. And as I answered those questions, I realized that horror was simply the best way to tell queer stories the way I felt they needed to be told.

Because for me, queerness is monstrousness, but it's not right to make that monstrousness empowering. Rather, to be a queer monster, one must be a victim, must be falling apart, must refuse power and wholeness and identity altogether. Every queer story must be a horror story because it cannot fit comfortably within lived (heteronormative) experience.

As such, what got me writing horror was more a long process, fragmented and fitful, of finding myself in my writing and exploring my own philosophies, artistic or otherwise. It's not a grand tale--I was 13 and wrote about creepy forests or some shit to writing about gay robots in my 20s to now focusing on body horror as I hit 30--but it's a process that's still developing.

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ihaventcomeupwthanameforaheroyet · 3 months

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True reason why Memnoch chose Lestat of all vampires: his attention to insignificant details made Memnoch hope this one in particular won't be bored to death by the middle of his story. He chose well, because Lestat obviously wasn't bored. Good for him. Good for him!

Meanwhile me, a 3rd generation atheist (none of my parents or grandparents were religious and neither am I):

?????????????????????????????????????????????

Memnoch is, of course, guilty of the terrible crime of oversharing. And overexplaining. And overstimulation. Which means, by the time he actually gets to the point, neither Lestat not I want to ask any more questions. No, sir, excuse me, we just want to go home. And maybe this was Memnoch's intention all along, because, you know... His story just isn't consistent. I literally don't understand how he went from "I don't support any violence" to "in my realm, I cure violence with even more violence". However, by the time we get there, I am so exhausted with all this unnecessary information that I don't want to ask for any more details. I just want to go home. And maybe that was exactly why Memnoch actually provided so much detail. He wanted us (and Lestat) thoroughly exhausted by the time he gets to the point. So exhausted we'd let any inconsistencies go unnoticed.

I don't know what to make of this story. Obviously, Lestat saw something that ruined him for a while. But what was this thing? I have no answer. One thing I can say: he found himself in the big boys' game, and they used him in a way he'll probably never fully comprehend. And I'd rather stop here, because i literally don't have enough information to realize what's the meaning of all this. Which is probably a usual part of human experience, and it makes sense if the whole thing is a common part of vampire experience, too.

Anyway, Memnoch is finished, TVA is next. I remember some parts of this book. Good one. (Also, I'll never be normal about the fact that TVA and Pandora were published on the same year. Listen, in Marius' place I would have escaped to the North Pole, too! Also, I can't stop imagining David writing down TVA and Pandora in parallel.)

Anyway. This book is done with. Good.

(Also, I still can't stop thinking about David the Devil. I mean, I love David being with us, but the very idea is just so cool!)

#rereading tvc #memnoch the devil #thinking aloud

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damonjuicyscock · 2 years

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Pictures of You - Chapter 16 (90's Liam Gallagher X Reader)

Pairing: 2000's Liam Gallagher X Reader

Warnings: Language, Angst (Mention of blood bc Liam and Noel fighting... AGAIN), fluff, smutty (Oral female receiving, P in V sex, protected sex, listen to Liam and ALWAYS WEAR A CONDOM).

Words: 2429

Summary: Back on tour with Oasis in 2000 as their official photographer as you've always been, you find it hard to have a moment alone with your husband. Also, Barcelona in May 2000 doesn't go as expected.

A/N: Hello ! I am back only today, but college is really being a pain in the arse so I'm sorry if the chapter only comes now. I beg you all please to be indulgent and not to leave me comments when I'm late, I know it, but sadly I can't do otherwise, I'm doing everything that I can to work on both college homework and my writings here. ;)

Anyway, here's chapter 16 (Anyway here's Wonderwall), I hope you'll enjoy it as per usual, next chapter will be the epilogue (yes Liam is leaving us for now, but he will come back of course !) and I don't know when it'll be published, (probably this weekend, because this time, no homework to do, at least at the moment.)

Enjoy !

(Damn this man...)

2000:

Back on tour with Oasis, with a baby.

It wasn’t simple, you can tell, so for each gig, Maggie was looking after baby Lennon while I was taking pictures.

Meg had also brought Noel’s and her’s new-born baby girl Anais.

Having a sexual life was also complicated.

Lennon was sleeping well and generally slept through the night, but as if by chance, everytime Liam and I were trying to go at it, Lennon started crying, which always caused Liam and I to argue. The thing being none’s fault. Draw.

It wasn’t until the end of the first part of the European tour that Liam and I got to be alone.

Peggy came a few days in London and was staying at Paul’s. With his agreement, she asked us if we agreed on letting her take Lennon with her for us to be just us two.

And oh, thank you Peggy.

March 28th 2000- a train from London Victoria:

Liam, where are we going?

Not gonna tell ye, it’s a surprise.

Can you at least give me a clue?

Nope, it would ruin everything. He answered

It was 11 am and we were on a train, going nowhere, or at least, somewhere I didn’t know where.

When we arrived in Chertsey, I immediately understood.

Don’t tell me that’s what I think! I exclaimed

And what d’ye think?

That we’re going to Thorpe Park.

And yer fucking right. He answered, smiling

Liam, I’m 30.

And?

And I’m 30, that’s all, I may be too old for that shit.

Shut yer cake ‘ole love, there is no age to have fun. Remember?

Remember what? I answered, holding both his hands

We’re gonna live forever sweetheart. So let’s fucking have fun.

Liam would always stay young in a way, that’s a fact.

And he would always make us feel like it.

So ready to feel like a kid again?

Fuck yes. I answered, kissing him

We left the train station, walking to the amusement park.

And we wouldn’t only be kids again. We would feel intense thrills only adults like us can feel.

We had fun, you can say it.

Screaming on the top of our lungs and holding hands in rollercoasters, getting soaked on the loggers leap and laughing out loud, stopping to kiss passionately in the middle of a labyrinth, eating cotton candies and candy apples.

And without knowing it, I realized I needed this day more than ever.

We came back in London, where Liam took me on a date in a lovely restaurant on the docks. The restaurant was charming and after leaving it, we went for a little walk.

Liam had bought a bottle of rum for us to share at home, while watching a movie.

Without doing it on purpose, Liam put the adult channel and there was a porn.

We both inclined our heads looking at the actress’s position.

That’s… He started

Complicated to reproduce. I pursued

It requires…

A lot of flexibility and training. She’s definitely a gymnast. What.The. Fuck.

Yea, what the fuck.

Liam put another channel.

We’re definitely fucking not doing this.

No indeed, we’re not.

Liam looked at me.

No Liam, we’re not.

What? So I can’t fucking look at ye without ye thinking I’m a fucking perv? I was going to ask ye what ye want to watch! He laughed

Sorry my love. I have an idea.

Tell me.

The mirror on the ceiling of our bedroom.

Oh… Ye wanna cuddle and sleep?

You totally misunderstood me Li’. I said, a grin on my face

Oh, I see! Ye want me to be ye movie don’t ye?

Yes, that’s the idea.

But what kind of movie?

Oh, I’ll let you decide what kind.

Liam approached me, put his hand on my hips and started kissing me.

While he deepened the kiss, I laid down on the couch, with him on top of me.

I felt his hands wander a bit everywhere and tugged at the hem of my PJ tee.

I let him take it off me and I did the same with his.

He got the access to my breasts and started kissing them. I moved uncomfortably.

Don’t worry baby, you’re still beautiful. You’re even more.

I smiled, relieved.

His lips kept sliding down until he found the hem of my PJ shorts.

May I? He asked

You better. I answered, smiling

He tore it off me, not wanting to wait anymore, leaving me in my undies.

And now, we’re pursuing this in our bedroom. He said, looking at me with love and lust

He took me in a bridal style, transporting me in our bedroom and laid me on our bed, him on top of me.

Now look at the mirror on the ceiling and let me make ye feel good sweetheart.

He slid my undies off and started licking at my clit, causing me to throw my head back on the pillows, while looking at what Liam was doing to me in the mirror.

It was so arousing, and I was wet.

Soon, I flet my orgasm approach.

Are ye close baby? Ye wanna come?

Fuck… please Li’, make me…

He sped the movements of his tongue, and I became a moaning mess, my whole body trembling in pleasure, Liam holding my hips down on the bed, helping me riding over my climax.

When I came down from my high, I felt my husband move to take the rest of his clothes off.

He was about to enter me, but I stopped him.

Li’.

Wot? Ye changed yer mind?

Hell no! But…

But what?

Huh… condom?

Oh yea, sure, soz, I forgot ‘bout that.

I wasn’t taking the pill anymore; I didn’t want to. But I didn’t want another child. At least, not yet.

Liam fumbled in the night table and took out a little blue package of it.

H ripped it open with his teeth and rolled the condom on his hard member.

This time we’re ready. He said

He kissed me and slowly entered me.

I hissed in pain. It had been quite some time that we didn’t do anything, and Lennon’s birth also probably acted on this.

Are ye okay? Liam asked, worried

Yes, just give me a few minutes please.

Of course love. He answered, smiling at me

Liam let me get adjusted to his size and left kisses everywhere while doing so.

I got to relax, and I finally nodded, indicating to Liam that he could move.

He started thrusting in me, slowly, making love to me.

My eyes were riveted to the mirror, looking at Liam’s hips rolling against mine, and looking at his exquisite ass.

Fuck… Yer so tight… I love ye Y/N… Do ye like to watch me make love to ye?

I answered with a loud moan.

I’ll take this as a yes. He added, also moaning

My nails dug in his back. Seeing both Liam’s body moving against mine and his face contorsionning with pleasure threw me over the edge.

Oh God… Liam…

Ye wanna come? Yer close baby?

Yes!

He sped up his movements and my body started shaking in pleasure again and left me being only whimpers and cries.

My eyes shut themselves in the process, and I heard Liam grunt loudly a first time.

I love you Liam… I love you…

I love ye Y/N. So fucking much!

Liam grunted again and this time, he spilled himself in the condom.

He collapsed next to me, and we laughed, taking time to come down from our ecstasy.

Wow, what a day… I said

I know, right? He answered

We laughed again

Still so proud of himself. I added

I am proud, would ye like to talk to him? He pursued

I kissed him a few times, starting to tickle him.

And this morning, me missus was telling me that she was too old to have fun and now yer tickling me as if we were fucking teens.

Yes, I know. And you’re right Li’. I’m not too old. Fuck… I’m fucking thirsty. I’ll go have a drink.

Leave it to me. What d’ye want to drink?

Well I know someone who has bought a nice bottle of rum earlier…

Liam smiled at me.

I’m going.

He kissed me before leaving the bedroom.

When he entered the kitchen, I heard him yell like a little girl.

Li’ are you okay?

Y/N, Help me please!

I put on my nightgown and join him in the kitchen. Liam was sat on the table, his legs drawn up against him.

Hey, what is it? I asked, worried

The…the…the mouse, just here. He said panicked, showing me the little animal with his finger

Huh what?

I’M FUCKING SCARED OF MICE Y/N! He shouted

Oh boy. The man never had feared his violent father and his big brother but was scared of mice. What a paradox.

Being married to the man Liam Gallagher is, had its good and bad moments as you all know.

And a bad moment came, again. This time it had nothing to do with me or cheating on me.

It was fare more worse than that. It was attacking his own family.

May 24th 2000- Barcelona-Spain:

On this day, Oasis were supposed to play in Barcelona.

But Whitey had tendinitis, so the show was cancelled but postponed to July.

So the guys spent the whole night drinking. Liam and Noel seemed to go along, as if Liam had grown up since our son was born.

I took this as an opportunity to take pictures of the band.

But oh, Liam can be a pain in the arse and be a total fucker when he’s drunk, he should never have ventured into such grave territory as that on which he has embarked.

Noel was showing pictures of Anais to the rest of the band, proud of the dad he became 5 months before.

Maybe was he joking as he always told me, or maybe was he serious, but Liam’s humor wasn’t to everyone’s taste. Especially Noel.

Oh I’m soz Noel… Liam started

Fer what?

Yer daughter.

Why? Ye think she’s ugly, don’t ye?

Oh no, she’s pretty!

Then what the fuck our kid?

I’m just soz fer ye that she’s not yers.

Fuck off! Noel answered, laughing at first

No really, I mean it. Ye really should take a paternity test, she doesn’t look like ye at all.

Liam! Shut the fuck up! I said, shocked, thinking he was being serious

Yo, what d’ye mean? Noel said, starting to get angry

What is it right, is that yer missus has most likely gone elsewhere during our studio sessions in France.

Liam, stop it! I shouted

Take this back right now William. Noel threatened

Well I’m soz but I’m just helping ye face the fucking truth man.

Oh shit, here we go again… I said, rolling my eyes but starting to panic

Noel threw himself on his brother and started hitting him and punching him. Liam tried to defend himself, but Noel was so enraged that the adrenaline of the moment made him stronger than he originally was.

He split his brother’s lip open, blood spilling out of it.

Gem and Alan tried to separate them and finally got to, Noel still wanting to take the life out of his younger brother.

I helped Liam to get up.

I’m fucking leaving, ye went too far this time! Noel yelled

Oi, I was joking! Can’t ye take a joke anymore?

It wasn’t fucking funny Li’! I answered

Noel opened and slammed the door; I ran after him in the hotel’s corridor.

Noel, wait, don’t go! I said, grabbing his arm

No Y/N, I’m soz but I’m leaving, ye won’t change me mind.

Listen, Noel, He’s drunk, he doesn’t mean…

Stop defending him Y/N! He has no excuse! None!

Yes, you’re right, he has no excuse, but alcohol…

Alcohol is not a reason, he can’t act like this because he drank too much, he has no right to! I’m leaving, I go back to me wife and daughter. Take care Y/N.

You too Noely.

I went back in the room we were in and saw Liam with a tissue in one of his nose holes so he wouldn’t bleed on the carpets.

He’s a crazy fucking bastard! I was only joking!

The fact Noel was leaving pissed me off even more.

I went towards Liam and slapped him.

You fucking idiot! I yelled

Oi!

There is no Oi! For fuck’s sake Liam, don’t joke with this kind of things!

Not me fault if me humor’s not Mr Chief’s taste!

This isn’t fucking funny! Wouldn’t you feel insulted if it was about Lennon and I?

Liam knew he was wrong, but he hated it.

Ye know what, fuck off Y/N. Shut the fuck up, I don’t wanna hear yer fucking voice.

Nice, you won’t hear it then. But think about booking another bedroom because you’re not sleeping with me tonight!

Perfect, I’ll go to the bar!

The next morning, I woke up alone in the bed. Liam didn’t come back.

I called his name, but there was no answer.

Happily, as I wasn’t drinking alcohol anymore, I wasn’t shitfaced so I could go looking for him with my mind cleared.

I went into the bathroom and let out a little scream when seeing Liam asleep in the bathtub.

I shook him and he grumbled.

Come on Liam, wake up. I said dryly

Let me sleep.

Well if you want to sleep at least go to bed.

Yea yea, two minutes. I’m soz fer last night.

That’s not to me you should apologize Liam. Call Noel.

Yea yea. Tomorrow.

As you wish… I sighed

It was going to be complicated. Noel only came back two months after and their relationship would never be the same anymore.

#liam gallagher oneshot #liam gallagher fanfic #90's liam gallagher #liam and noel #liam gallagher fluff #liam gallagher smut #liam gallagher #noel gallagher x reader #oasis #oasis band

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night-unfurls-its-splendour · 6 months

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🌤️ 🌩️ ☔

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

Published or unpublished? Because have so much favorite dialogue from all of the published chapters. And not much to choose from for Ch. 8. So I guess I'll do one of each.

The first is from Chapter 5, where Erik has just played her an excerpt from his new composition and Christine is feeling quite inferior to him, as an artist. She says that she has no genius of her own. Which Erik is of course very offended by:

"You must never forget that skilled as I am, though I say it myself, I am not so powerful as to be able to imbue talent where there was none before. I am only able to foster what nature has already gifted you. Do you understand me? And please say that you do, Christine, for you must know—know—that it is not in my nature to lie about music to spare anyone's feelings; even yours."

And then I don't have much dialogue at all written for Ch. 8, but this kind of connects to the above incident:

"Father always said he wasn't really talented," she sobbed quietly. "He said he simply practiced well. When he would tell me of the Angel of Music, I asked if he'd ever heard the Angel, and he shook his head and told me that he'd never been so blessed."

And Erik connects this with the fact that Christine did the exact same thing earlier in the evening.

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

OK its not terribly funny, per se. I've been forced to confront today that I just don't do a lot of comedy in my writing. Except perhaps for the passage in chapter 5 where Erik mentally calls Carlotta a "contemptible cow" and then considers making her "moo" instead the next time.

But this is a scrap I have written for a future chapter:

Only Meg Giry had made any effort in those first few months to befriend her, and that had been an exercise in understanding when Christine required her solitude. That must have been quite an effort for little Meg, curious and nosy as she was. More than once he'd had to hold closed some hatch or panel which Meg had sniffed out to prevent her from confirming her discovery. She was a chronic pebble in his shoe.

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

Ah okay this is actually excellent. Yes.

So I've been reading Driven by the wonderful and lovely TryingNotToLoveYou, where each chapter is named after and accompanied by lyrics from a different Depeche Mode song. Now I LOVE Depeche Mode. Every fic (published or WIP) that I've ever thought of for poto has a title taken from a DM song. It's just such PotO music.

One song in particular has always stood out to me: A Question of Time, in which the narrator expresses his fear and concern for a young girl and how it won't be long before "They" (this can be interpreted to mean men specifically or society in general) start to take advantage of her. He says "I've got to get to you first, before they do". The song also contains the lyrics "I'll take you under my wing; somebody should" which of course brings to mind "The Angel of Music has her under his wing".

This song was released in 1985 and my idea is for a movie based 1985 AU where a young Christine is an aspiring singer who gets signed to Erik’s record label.

I would love to write this fic. The problem is, its more of a vibe, an atmosphere, than an actual story in my head. I don't think I could write a story for any time period after 1918 to be perfectly honest.

In some ways I feel like I have a better understanding of life-patterns older periods. And the 80's would be particularly tough for me because its kind of in the middle as far as history goes. Its not far enough back to feel like fantasy-land but just far enough back that I wasn't alive yet and I don't even have a firm enough grasp of life in the 90's to fall back on (I was born in 95). So even though I'm probably the most familiar with the 80's out of any period in the mid-20th century pop-culturally, I still feel unqualified. And as for plot? Beyond this starting point, I have no idea where I would even start. I can't imagine writing any kind of long-fic, especially a modern!AU one. When the Longing Returns is actually just a short fic that has been stretched out by my excessive wordiness 😅😂

#ask game

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meabh-mcinness · 9 months

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Hello to those who follow me!

As you may (or may not) have seen I was gone for a month? Two? Anyways the reason I was gone was because I decided I didn’t want to just sit around anymore just going from job to job and that I wanted to actually fight for a job in a field that I would enjoy. I did briefly think about becoming an author for my own novels (I even have a few outlined that I might publish at some point just because) but I’m well aware that the writing field is actually skewed towards people with connections and as a homeschooled introvert I had none and even if I did manage to find a publisher who would take me there was no guarantee my books would do well in the first place. And while I wholly agree that people should have jobs that make them happy regardless of the income I’m also aware enough that money is something that is needed to survive in the current society we live in and I don’t like continually asking my family for money.

As such I decided to enroll into a University! I will be majoring in Integrative Biology where I will hopefully go on to either transfer or get my masters in Paleontology so that I can work with dinosaurs and other prehistoric creatures and plants! My other option if I can’t find a decent college of uni for that is to go into archaeology! (Can you tell I like old things ^^;)

I will of course still be writing for the M!IK fandom and will potentially even expand to other fandoms in the future. I have several grievances with the Harry Potter, Twilight, and Inuyasha books/movies so I will probably write in their fandoms eventually. Speaking of I actually have a few almost finished works that I will be posting at some point within the next few weeks including but not limited to Queen B*tch, The Cost of Freedom, and another surprise one!

Thank you again to everyone who sent messages to check in on me and I hope you are all doing well!

#meabh writes #meabh update

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claudiajcregg · 1 year

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I love these! (Doing and asking :) 🙅‍♀️ 🤔 🏅☀️

Grrr. Tumblr ate the mostly written post because of course it did. Thank you for asking, Mia 💕 These were really fun to answer (and also hard). For someone who's really her worst critic, I do enjoy talking about my process and whatnot. I'm sorry in advance for all the rambling.

(If you want to ask me more, the questions are here ✨ )

🙅‍♀️ What is one trope you refuse to ever write?

I just don't see myself doing incest or bestiality. If we're talking more general things, I can't see myself writing cheating (with the asterisk of this being one member of the couple straying, and that there are possible situations where I wouldn't mind). Also, anything extremely violent, mostly because it's not something I often consume in media.

🤔 What’s one genre you’ve never written that you’d like to try?

Oh, maybe action and/or suspense? My writing style (intimate moments, conversations, just vibes) is not the most compatible, but if the situation arose... Sure! (I guess that, in a past life, I wrote around mysteries and crime and whatnot. I was too young then 😬 )

I also would love to be better at writing stories-within-stories. I absolutely do not have the talent to convincingly seem like the talented writers I'm doing. (Once again thinking of the fluffy memoir fic. And another one, which has a super fun premise, but my writing is failing it with this aspect, I fear.)

And not a genre specifically but collaboration? Again, I have super talented friends. I'd stick out like a sore thumb. I think it'd be fun!

🏅 What is the fic you’re most proud of?

I am my own worst critic but I would still probably say all of them, maybe? I saw something in them that I thought might connect with others and that's why they're out there. Even the ones that aren't (so many of them) and might never see the light of day. Writing isn't easy. It makes me nervous and makes me crave validation.

Anyway. The pageant answer is still true but as for actual ones, but using the way I would mentally refer to them, lol.

Big Block of Cheese 2008. I just saw it's at almost 100 kudos... excuse me what. I just felt it was something special from the moment I wrote it. I think I always would've posted it at some point, even if I hadn't made friends. None of my fics come close to it in terms of "love" and tbh, I'm fine with it.

St. Augustine. Just because it came to me so fast (I think it was mostly written in a morning?) and IDK, I love the scene. This one has broken out from most of my other purely CJD stories, whether it was timing or it getting recommended by the right people. It was nerve wracking writing something pre-canon but I think it went well! It was fun to write. I haven't read it in forever so I reserve the right to remove it from the list.

Obviously, star shine started it all but if I had a third spot... Portland. It's probably one of my flops (everything is, but this one especially) and yet. I recall being so proud right after I finished it and wanting people to read it. (It obviously grew since then because I can't shut up.) It's long, maybe unnecessarily so, but god does it get to me. I was in a writing rut (see next answer) and challenged myself to write 'canon' stories, and I think the two are good.

But... To be honest, the answer has to be my unposted multichapter. I always think it's bad until I read it, and it kinda hits, all imperfections aside. 150k words in 5-and-a-bit months (26/3 to 2/9?), 33 chapters. I wrote 2/3 of that in two months (with 19 being the last one I wrote before 19/5), until my muse decided she was done and I decided to actually change jobs. (I also wrote now-published fics like haunted by the notion or don't want you to go, as well as a bunch of other smaller ones, in between! WTF was I on in 2021? I think the mini reunion altered my brain chemistry.) I've considered just dropping a link to the unedited, unbetaed drive on the server one day, ngl.

ANYWAY. Too long-winded!

☀️ Has anyone ever left you a comment that made your day? What did it say?

UM. All of them? real talk here, I don't get many comments so I love them all. I write for a show that ended 17 years ago, for a small (and surprisingly divisive) ship (their loss - there's so much talent) so I should've known going in. It took me some time to internalize it. I'm also not that good a writer, so I'll take it. Comments mean the world to me, even if it's a "lovely" or "great job." Just taking a few seconds means a lot and writers aren't kidding when they say it's motivating. It's also how I've made friends in the fandom so yeah! comments!

To highlight some rather recent ones!

Haunted by the notion got so many from so different people, and they were all so incredibly nice when I was terrified. All of those broke me, and might be the reason why I've been struggling with a followup! (And why I've been wanting to post again soon, rather than wait.) From the other stories, I have two ~recent ones~ I actually bookmarked because they broke me.

miabicicletta's (💕 ) on St. Augustine. I woke up on a Saturday and I remember reading it from bed and crying. It was so incredibly kind and lovely and I couldn't remember the last time anyone had written anything as long. I still think about it all the time. 🥂 (I've now realized Steph also wrote another lovely one ♥️ That story and the love it got, man.)

krazykitkat's on all's well + her comment on St. Augustine because her stories are some of my favorites. I couldn't believe that someone whose work I adored and have read countless times since I finished the show six years ago had read one of my stories, but had liked it???? Didn't compute. Doesn't compute. She's read many since (see St. Augustine, the most recent one), commented and left kudos on a bunch, and it still... blows my mind. (This one happened while I was flying back from Stockholm and was the first thing I saw when I landed.)

But really - so many people have left so many kind messages over the last couple of years, and I've probably gotten emotional at all of them. That there are people out there who are reading the silly little stories that have come out of my brain... wonders never cease.

#miabicicletta #asks #this is unnecessarily long and I am sorry #I really could have talked more about all of these things #as I said I hate my writing but I'll talk nonstop about it

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