#because i don't like just getting a journal and only writing fic stuff in it

[yndrgrl]

yandere! bakugou uses you to get to someone else, but ends up falling for you instead

long ass fic. fem! reader. regular! au. enemies to lovers. lowkey crack! fic. tsundere! bakugou.

warnings: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, somnaphilia (idk how to spell it), degrading, bullying, spitting, public sex, hatefuck

a/n: requests are open :) (plz request something, idk what else to write about 😭)

---

"no." that's all you said. so flat, so robotic. that's all you wanted to say.

bakugou was a pushy man, however. "it wasn't a question."

"oh for real?" you gasped, putting both hands to your cheeks to show your faux shock. "no."

"listen, you're gonna help me win over uraraka-"

"no, i'm not, bakugou," you denied once more. you don't even know why he came to you in the first place. it was clear as day that uraraka had a major crush on izuku, & izuku liked uraraka just as much.

honestly, what surprised you the most is that bakugou even had a crush. i guess it makes sense that it would be on uraraka though.

"yes, you are because i have something over you," bakugou threatened lowly.

you scoffed, "oh, do you now?" there wasn't really much he could have over you that would make you help him-

he slammed a journal on the desk, a slam echoing throughout the library. it was your personal diary.

you lunged for your journal, but he snatched it & threw it into his bag. you screamed at him, "how'd you get that, you sicko?!" the only way he would've gotten that was by breaking into your dorm room.

"are you going to help me or not?"

yes, you could've bought a nicer, leather journal with handcrafted pieces of paper, glued recent pictures of your life & decorated the pages with washi tape, stickers, & colored markers, but you didn't want to start over yet. your journal is a year & a half old, every page nearly filled; it's a deep dive into your mind. every overwhelming event in your life, every good memory, every goal you strive to achieve is written down in that book. bakugou katsuki had that all in his possession.

that's why, two days after you found out what he has, you're sitting with your usual study group in your designated, outdoor study area-- plus bakugou. your bluetooth speaker played a playlist shared throughout the group. you sat on the edge with uraraka beside you & bakugou across from you.

"y/n," someone said, catching your attention; it was uraraka. "i didn't know you & bakugou were friends."

you wanted to laugh. you quickly told her, "we're not-"

"we're good friends," katsuki overlapped with his lie. his scowl upturned into the smallest smile when uraraka glanced up at him.

"oh wow, i had no idea! the two of you are so hard-headed, i wouldn't have expected the two of you to get along so great," she said back with a giggle. you loved uraraka, but she's too friendly sometimes.

bakugou, trying to play into the cool-bad-boy character, said, "yeah, well she makes it hard sometimes, but it helps when she has cute friends, i guess."

never in your life did you think you would hear big, tough bakugou flirt in your life.

they continued their conversation that you tuned out, rereading your notes & constructing plans on how to get your journal so you could expose him. everyone was invested in their own stuff. obviously, bakugou & uraraka were talking amongst themselves. momo was explaining to jirou & mina some math topic that they were sobbing about. tsu was on her laptop as she tried finishing a power point that was due the next day.

your chin was propped up by your hand, humming the song that started playing. "um, excuse me," a masculine voice called out. it caught the attention everyone at the table. you heard bakugou scoff, & you could only assume he rolled his eyes.

you looked up at the source of the voice. he was right in front of you, face red, cheeky smile. he was cute in the way that a puppy eager for a treat was. "you're y/n, right?"

"yeah, i am," you confirmed, matching his grin.

he introduced himself by saying his name & told you that he was in the hero-support program. he then said, "i just wanted to say that you're just really pretty."

compliments were one thing. compliments from complete strangers always messed you up though. "oh, th-thanks." you're so awkward.

"so like, maybe i could get your number, & we could go on a date or two?"

you glanced back at all your friends, who all had big smiles as a way of non-verbally saying, "get your manz, bitch!!"

bakugou on the other hand, had an expression of confusion & anger-- the anger was permanent though.

"i mean, i don't give out my phone number, but maybe we can snap or something?"

the guy nodded with enthusiasm, pulling out his phone to give you his username. "cool, well sorry for wasting your guys' time," the boy said to you friends before turning to you & saying, "i'll hit you up later?"

"can't wait," you replied back.

as soon as he was out of earshot, mina squealed, "oh my god! you're such a flirt!"

jirou teased, "you're so awkward, it's literally so funny."

"you're my pretty best friend," tsu croaked with a laugh.

"guys, nothing is gonna happen," you said with a blush. "i'm just gonna be his friend."

"how does it feel to be hit on for the first time, loser?" bakugou yawned, as if he's been hit on ten million times by fan girls & milfs or something.

mina retaliated, "what are you talking about? y/n gets hit on all the time!"

uraraka jumped in, "yeah, what's was that? guy number five?"

"y/n?" bakugou questioned, & all your friends nodded. "that thing? doubt it."

"what's there to doubt? you just saw it," you growled at him, he annoyed you so badly.

after that study session, he got uraraka's number like he hoped for, but he was more curious about you. he never realized until that day how often you do actually get men's attention. bakugou always assumed you were some bookworm, writer nerd who leeched off of his darling, uraraka for popularity & personality.

"i don't get it," bakugou muttered, staring at your figure across the cafeteria. he was surrounded by his friends, who all followed his gaze.

kirishima groaned, "dude, just ask uraraka out already." it was routine that bakugou would say something about how shitty nerd, deku, isn't good enough for her affections or how he would be a better match for her.

"no, it's not that," bakugou corrected, glare not breaking off of you. this caught kirishima, denki, sero, & mina -who sometimes sat with you as well- off guard.

"what are you talking about, bro," denki asked.

"i don't get it. she's not even that cute," bakugou scoffed, slouching back into the bench. his eyes finally tore away from you & awase from class 1-b.

"who?"

"y/n, i think," mina assumed, & when bakugou didn't deny it, they all knew she was right. "why does it even bother you?"

"it doesn't," he said, glancing back at you. awase left you, & in his place was the floating, fighting machine uraraka. he didn't feel the need to say anything about her though, but he felt like he had to. "she's weird, uraraka shouldn't even be friends with her."

"there it is," sero sighed, making all the others laugh.

"shut up," bakugou scowled at them. everyone was used to it, so they weren't that threatened.

"but seriously, bakubro, don't hate on y/n just cuz she's best friends with uraraka, & you're jealous," kirishima told him. he always did this to the blonde. he wasn't scared to tell him off.

bakugou, infuriated, yelled, "i'm not jealous of her, okay? it's just stupid how she has everyone wrapped around her finger, so don't be some dumb, y/n defenders. hop off her fuckin' dick."

"i'm just saying, man. she's super cool, has a useful quirk, & is an awesome fighter," kirishima said, holding his hands as a way to show he was backing down.

"if i were you, bakugou, i would be trying to be her friend," mina said.

mina's words played on repeat in bakugou's head for a week. it was driving him crazy. even though that bridge of being friends was already burned & he kept telling himself he doesn't care, he can't help but want to be closer to you.

he said it was all for uraraka in the end. after all, when they were texting the other day, she said that she would want a future partner to get along with her friends or else it'll be a deal breaker.

bakugou deduced that if he was on favorable terms with you that uraraka would fall for him-- & maybe you too. he felt himself physically jolt when he thought that. why in fucks name would he want you to fall for him? he thought for a second. it's not like he wants to be with you or anything, but he doesn't want you with anyone else.

he somehow found himself in front of your dorm door past curfew. bakugou, at this time, was usually asleep, dreaming about a life where him & uraraka lived happily ever after. however, tonight was different. he didn't feel like thinking about the short-haired brunette.

he doesn't even know why he's outside your door.

in his head, he rationalized that he just loves uraraka so much that he'd give up sleep to become your friend. it was such an urgent situation that he didn't even bother putting on shirt.

he fished in his sweatpants' pocket for a lock pick, the same one he used to break into your dorm the first time to steal your journal. bakugou jammed it into the lock, opening the door with ease. he shut the door carefully before stalking further into your room.

there you were on your bed. swaddled in your fluffy duvet, cuddling a stuffed animal. you must've felt his presence because your sleeping self started shifting & ended up kicking off your blanket. you ended up on your stomach, one leg crunched towards your side while the bottom leg laid straight. you faced away from bakugou.

his breath hitched, something inside him twitched. bakugou couldn't help but stare. he had to admit that you had the body of his dream girl. wait no, his dream girl was uraraka-

he cut his own thoughts off when he saw how your ass looked in that position. the blue hue from the moonlight flowed into the room because, for some reason, you felt no need to close your curtains. he could make the shape of you so clearly. he reached for you.

he told himself that he wouldn't be cheating on his soon-to-be lover. it's just a touch, a friendly touch that friends share with each other.

his fingertips ghosted over your exposed thighs. you were wearing nothing but thong & an oversized band tee. the gentle touches turned into full-palm caresses. her skin is so smooth, bakugou thought. he loomed closer to you, inhaling deeply. she smells so nice.

he climbed over you with the agility of a shadow. the bed didn't even creak. he kneeled over legs, & his hands found your plush ass. he kneaded your bare butt, shifting you so you were fully on your stomach. you remained unmoving; you usually take melatonin gummies right before bed anyways.

bakugou kept groping your ass while his cock hardened into its full length. his hands wandered, thumbs grazing over your entrance. he grasped you, & he spread your ass cheeks apart. you must be dreaming about something dirty because your thong was soaked.

bakugou readjusted himself so he was on level with your ass. "this is just what friends do," he hazily whispered to himself. "friends help friends get better."

he blew on the wet patch, watching your pussy twitch through your panties. bakugou waited for a second, trying to grasp at any sort of self-control but, when you subconsciously propped your ass higher for him, he couldn't help it. he mentally apologized to uraraka before he dove into your ass.

his tongue licked your clothed slit, & he felt how thin your thong truly was. he only got an inkling of what you tasted like, & he craved more. bakugou lapped you juices through your panties, dampening the light grey cloth into a darker shade. his jaw hinged open to allow his tongue to delve further down.

he found your clit through your thong. he pressed his tongue against you, & sleeping, unsuspecting you let out a moan. "oh fuck," bakugou whispered in response, diving back into your pussy.

he pulled your thong up. it rode higher in your ass, then the part the was covering your pussy disappeared between your lips.

he started eating you out again, groaning in pleasure when he finally got to touch your bare skin. he slurped your juices over & over.

bakugou didn't realize that he pulled his sweatpants & boxers down to his knees. he pulled away from your pussy, a string of your juices & his saliva connecting him to you.

on his knees, he positioned his big cock between your ass. a moment of clarity hit him, it wasn't right, he knew that deep down. you really didn't do anything to him.

your phone next to your pillow buzzed. he grabbed it, his hung cock still pressed against you. it was a message from uraraka that read, "wait what did you wanna tell me about bakugou earlier? you looked so concerned haha."

you were trying to tell him? what a fucking bitch, bakugou thought with pure hatred. you were trying to sabotage him with your words, your pretty little mouth, with your dumb, stupid body.

his rationality was once again thrown out of the door. uraraka would want me to show y/n her place, he thought. he climbed off of you. he had to show you what your mouth was meant for. your mouth wasn't meant for snitching, it was meant for sucking cock-- his cock.

bakugou turned your head & pulled it at the edge of the bed. thankfully, it's like your body already knew what was gonna happen, your mouth was already agape. he pushed his tip past your lips. your tongue lazily stroked against his length. he moved his dick in & out of your throat, & yet somehow you still remained motionless.

his control turned into animalistic thrusts, gagging you over & over, & you still stayed asleep. "fuckin' stupid bitch," he groaned, throwing his head back. your throat expanded with each thrust to accommodate his thickness & length.

spit & his precum spilled out of your mouth & onto your silk pillowcase. because you were sideways, his heavy balls slapped against your face, nose shoved into his pubes. you gargled & gagged in your sleep, but you still handled him so well.

his passionate angry finally swelled up & shot down your throat. even though he was cumming, he kept half-assed thrusting in your throat, coating every inch with white. all for uraraka, remember? because bakugou completely forgot what drove him to do what he just did.

the next day, as you entered the classroom, he heard you tell to uraraka about how the melatonin gummies really worked. "yeah, i was completely knocked out! i drooled so much, my pillow was drenched. it was disgusting."

"really? i know that they're good, but i never drooled that much. maybe you really needed that sleep."

as they passed bakugou's seat, uraraka waved at him with pink cheeks. "hey, bakugou."

"uraraka," he said back to her. he watched your smile drop into a frown, your eyes rolling. he was winning over uraraka, he knew that, but he didn't feel satisfied. he yearned the banter between the two of you more than uraraka's affections. "what was that, idiot?"

uraraka was shocked at first, thinking he was talking to her until she heard you shoot back, "shouldn't you be watching ochaco instead of me?" if he didn't know any better, it sounded like you were jealous.

"y/n, let's calm down," uraraka sheepishly suggested, but it only angered you more. why was she on that weirdo's side? why wasn't she on your side? even after you told her what he did to you, she didn't even care; in fact, she seemed flattered.

"yeah, calm down," bakugou chimed in with that disgusting, cocky smile, "go in the back & drool all over your desk."

"eavesdropping now? you really are obsessed," you huffed, marching towards your desk that was, in fact, in the back of the classroom. you thought uraraka was right behind you, but by the time you turned around to sit in your chair, you noticed her take a seat next to bakugou.

the bell rang, & in rolled your sleepy teacher, mr. aizawa. he called roll, held an hour long lecture while you took notes, then assigned a 4-page essay with three sites sources. after he was done, he questioned, "now that we're done with that, what is happening today?"

iida's hand shot up along with his entire body.

"go ahead, iida."

"the 1a students from ketsubutsu academy are training with us today." oh right, you completely forgot about that. you were not in the mood to socialize with those uptight, cocky rich kids today. even though you took the melatonin gummies the night before to ensure a goods night sleep, you got everything but that. you felt like you were melting all night, & now you just felt restless.

"good, iida is correct," mr. aizawa confirmed. "they're already waiting in training facility a, so get dressed & be there in 10 minutes."

"yes sir!" & they all scurried out of the classroom.

your entire class entered the facility in their hero costumes. like mr. aizawa said, the visiting students were already there, stretching & warming up. mr. aizawa, once he noticed his entire class, announced that on the white board was everyone's names & assigned training group for the day.

everyone, including the other class, crowded around the board to find their names. "y/n!" your best friend, who you were extremely pissed off at, cheered. "we're all in the same group!" we... all?

you look at uraraka to see who she was referring to. "it's just my luck," you groaned, of course it was bakugou. "i just had to be put in a group with you!" you wanted to shout at everyone. you wanted to shout at uraraka for being swooned by a creep, you wanted to yell at mr. aizawa for putting you in a group with bakugou, & you wanted to scream, jump, yell, & hit bakugou over the head with a bat just for being the aggravating, prideful bastard he is.

"we just had to have a weak fuckin' nerd in your group?" he said to uraraka, but glanced to his side to meet your eye. your fuming expression really got him going. "there's no one more annoying than you-"

"are you y/n?" someone questioned. that just be the last person in your group.

you looked up at him, & with a half-hearted smile, you said, "i am."

"nice, i'm in your group," he told you, "i'm yo shindo. & i must admit, i was not excited for this whole group training thing until i saw a pretty girl like you was in my group."

oh, so he was a flirt? honestly, you didn't mind at all; you needed something to distract you & what's a better distraction than a buff playboy?

"honestly me too, but i think it'll be fun with you," you said back, but you overthought what you said. was it cringy?

bakugou was watching the whole exchange, brows furrowed, vein popping through his skin on his forehead. uraraka noticed, & because with the new-found knowledge that bakugou really liked her, she stroked his arm & asked, "are you okay?"

he looked at her with the same look of anger, now mixed with discomfort, & shrugged her off. "yeah, i'm fine."

he turned his attention back to you & shindo. bakugou's hands sparked ever so suddenly when he took in the scene in front of him. you were eating up all of shindo's praises & brags. your hands tried to squeeze around his biceps but you just couldn't connect your hands. "wow, your muscles are so big~ you must be strong."

"of course i am, i gotta be so i can impress pretty girls like you after all," he winked at you. for a moment, you glanced at bakugou, feeling his harsh glare, & he looked like he was about to explode. you didn't know why though, doesn't he have what he wanted already? he has uraraka right there, & yet he's still mad at you. he still owes you your journal too, so the two of you were not on good terms.

"sorry, i didn't mean to get carried away," you told shindo, pulling your hands away.

as the two of you walked towards uraraka & bakugou, shindo said, "i don't mind, you can touch me wherever, whenever."

you couldn't help but laugh out loud. "god, you're such a flirt!"

"you seem to love it though-"

"y/n, would you stop being a hoe for one second & train like you're supposed to?" bakugou said to you, hands stuffed inside his pockets, looking so nonchalant. you blinked a moment, & you waited for uraraka to say something or to rush by your side. she didn't do any of that

all she said was, with a giggle & eyes staring at bakugou, "that was mean." yeah, it was. it really was. the tips of your ears burned in humiliation, your palms became sweaty, & your breathing was uneven. after uraraka was done ogling bakugou, she looked at you, & her eyes widened. never in her entire childhood friendship did she see that expression on your face.

"dude, i don't know who think you are, but don't talk to her like that," shindo said, stepping forward & slightly in front of you. your tense shoulders relaxed just a bit-- someone is in your corner.

the amused bakugou turned pissed off when your new, little boy-toy went to your rescue, even though he knew you didn't need rescuing. "h-hey, let's save it for training, yeah-"

"i'll talk to y/n however i want, damn weak fuck," bakugou replied, copying his movements & stepping forward. "you're just like her: fucks anything that moves, huh?"

"bakugou-"

"that's it!" you shouted as you shoved bakugou away from shindo. the three of them -bakugou, uraraka, & shindo- were shocked to say the least. he pushed you too far all for entertainment & some obsession. "you're such a goddamn coward, you know that? all you are is a bully who's play-pretending to be a hero! you're such a control freak that, even after you stole my best friend, you still need to have something over me, so you won't give me back my stupid journal. & worst of all, you just stare & glare & act like i'm scum when you're the actual piece of shit! & you're not even ashamed! you want everyone to know! i hate you so much!"

after your tangent/rant, you walked away, quirk firing left & right. you didn't need to hear whatever bakugou was going to say next, it was probably be something so degrading that winds up in her next journal entry.

the three of the gawked at you, watching you walk straight to the state-of-the-art punching bags. uraraka was the first to speak. "i'll talk to her. i've never seen her that... mad. it was like she was a whole new person-"

"you guys are terrible classmates. there was no reason to say any of that. i'll go talk with her," shindo cut uraraka off. before either of them could do anything, bakugou was already strutting towards you, gauntlets sparking.

"who does she think she is?" they heard him utter. they were out of earshot, however, when he said, "making me fuckin' hard then walking away. damn tease."

he caught up to you in no time. you were almost to the punching bags when he grabbed your wrist, his hand was warm & a stinging sensation engulfed your wrist.

uraraka & shindo watched as the two of you screamed at each other, you shoving him, him glaring at you, you throwing a piece of your costume at him. honestly, it would've been comedic if it wasn't for bakugou pressing your buttons.

"what are they? toxic exes or something?" shindo questioned as they began to walk towards the fighting two.

"oh, no, not at all! i would've known," uraraka told him, "they're just... um... friends i think. maybe enemies."

"i can tell that much."

when the actual training began, you & bakugou tried to separate from each other. you were paired with shindo & him with uraraka. but, because of the conditioning & the way today's training was set up, it was inevitable that you two would interact again.

like at lunch, the two of you sat across each other at a table, eating your lunches. you didn't bother speaking, you didn't even want to see bakugou ever again, after all.

or at the water fountain, when he said, "hurry up." & so you took longer, even though you weren't thirsty anymore.

or when you had to rotate partners & bakugou was your only option. the two of you, against the rules, threw quirk-backed attacks each other.

& that's how you two ended up being excused early. while everyone else was getting better, you were locked out & forced to change back into your school uniform, & the only person with you was bakugou.

when you left the changing room, he was leaning against the wall-- almost like he was waiting for you. "you done being mad at me?"

"no, i'm not, & i'll never stop being mad at you," you said, walking right past him. he followed close behind you.

"listen, i didn't mean to embarrass you. i didn't know you'd get so pissy."

"what did you think was gonna happen?!"

"i don't know, okay?" the two of you were yelling at this point.

"you have ochaco, can you please just give me my journal & leave me alone? you two can be happy far, far away from me," you said, cursing yourself for choking up. you mentally prepared for the teasing & "witty" comebacks bakugou had in store.

instead, he asks, "are you jealous?"

"what?"

"are you jealous?"

you scoffed, opening the door to the dorm building. "don't flatter yourself, big guy."

"i'm being serious," he said to you as he leaned on the counter. you were so hungry that you didn't really care bakugou was watching you cook. "because i was."

"what are you getting at, bakugou?" you asked, putting a pot of water on the stove, bringing it to a boil.

"i was so jealous today," he said.

"of what?"

"of damn shindo kid," he responded back. your angered expression contorted into a puzzled one as you looked up at him. when you didn't reply, he continued, "if i knew stupid one liners got your attention, i would've been doing that sooner."

you couldn't believe what you were hearing. the guy who's been making the past few months hell was confessing something you never expected. "what about ochaco, hm? i thought you needed her to breath or something."

"yeah, i guess i liked her at first, & that's why i needed your help," he admitted. he then fished a journal, your journal, out of his bag & stood up. he walked towards you, hand outstretched with your beloved diary in his grasp. you reached out for it when he lifted it above your head with a taunting smirk. "but then i realized that i wanted you this entire time."

--nsfw starts here--

"you're just saying stupid things to get a rise out of me, bakugou," you rolled your eyes at him. you placed a hand on his chest as you jumped for your journal, fingers touching it ever so lightly. it was just out of reach.

you thought you had it, he brought the notebook down. however, you didn't have it. he threw it on the counter behind you, & the hand the was holding it snakes around your waist. his other hand grabbed your face, stroking your cheek as he kissed you.

you don't know why, but you found your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. without breaking your lips apart, he pushed you against the counter, pinning you between his two arms now. his tongue, the tongue that craved you since that unknown night, licked your lips before fighting yours for dominance. his thigh was between your legs. he pressed your core against him, & you moaned.

bakugou shut off the burner during your kiss. he was expecting the two of you to escape into his room, but when you threw off his tie & unbuttoned his shirt eagerly, he knew he needed you right then & there.

the two of you broke your kiss, & he placed his head in the crook of your neck. "you get off on making me jealous, don't you? that's why you were flirting with stupid shindo?"

"wh-whatever, you jerk. you act like you weren't basically grinding on ochaco in front of me all the time?"

bakugou laughed into the nape of your neck. "grinding? all we did was talk."

"same fuckin' thing," you growled in frustration.

"i didn't know you were so jealous of her."

"oh, fuck off, asshole," you said. you were quickly shut up by him biting your sensitive spots all over your neck, sucking & licking to create hickeys.

he took off your tie & ripped open your shirt. he unhooked your bra, throwing it god knows where. "take this fuckin' thing off," he uttered, helping you out of your torn clothes.

"h-hey!"

"shut up, & take it. i'll buy you a new one," he said before fondling your breasts. you bit your lip as your grinded against his meaty thigh. your wetness, even though you had panties on, began staining his slacks.

"bakugou~" you whispered, voice shaking.

"it's katsuki tonight, dummy," he told you, turning you around & bending you over the counter. you brushed your journal out of the way as you pressed you tits onto the cold, granite countertop.

with three fingers, he pinched your pussy through your panties so his middle one snuck in between your lips. "stop being a tease & fuck me already." if only you knew.

"be patient, woman," scowled katsuki, smacking your ass. he set of small sparks when he hit your cheek. "you can't take this cock yet. i'm doing you a goddamn favor."

you doubted him, you really did. he was so cocky & arrogant, how could you not? "i can take your tiny dick any day, don't underestimate me."

katsuki let out a hearty, sarcastic laugh. "you really think so, dumb bitch?" he unclicked his belt, dropping his pants & boxers around his ankles. he started to grind against your ass, & you swore up & down it felt like deja vu.

you gasped as you felt his length between your ass. you've had dreams about cocks that big, sure, but you didn't know they actually existed. "wh-what the fuck?"

"what? still think you take me? still think i'm tiny, sweetheart?" katsuki taunted as he took off your panties. he pressed your thighs around his cock, the base of it stimulating your swollen clit. he thrusted gently; it was so against his brash, aggressive character.

you were not one to back down, so at least you stayed true to your character. "yeah, i can take your skinny ass dick-" you were cut off by katsuki spreading your ass & shoving his girthy length into your throbbing heat. you screamed, tongue hanging out of your mouth as you tried to adjust to him.

he wouldn't let you though. katsuki, once inside your tight pussy, started pounding you. he shoved his cock head into your g-spot over & over, making you quiver & pulsate around him. "sl-sl-slow d-down!" you begged between thrusts. in response, he pulled your head back with your hair. you arched uncomfortably; your pelvis was still against the edge of the counter, but your head was pulled so far back that you could see katsuki's face.

"you think you're all that? you think you can just flirt with all these other guys in front of me? you fuckin' slut," he spat into your mouth, not that it mattered since it mixed with your drool & fell out of your mouth & onto your cold body. "i own you now. i own this mouth, i own this pussy, i own this ass, i own you."

"f-f-"

"c'mon, pathetic whore. say it."

"fuck y-you, katsuki." oh, you were a brat through & through clearly.

katsuki has had enough of your retaliation. you were supposed to be a brainless bimbo begging for more, yet here you were, surprising him again. any bit of consciousness you had, he was going to fuck out if you.

he, without pulling out, let go of your hair & made you stand up. he grabbed both your legs & hoisted you into this air. his hands found their way behind your head, & you couldn't move. you were nothing more than a cum dumpster to him now. "you know, if anyone walks through that door, they're gonna see you folded in half, tears streaming down your face with my cock balls deep in your dripping pussy, & they'd realize how much of a slut you are, & they'd know that you're all mine."

you didn't mean to, but your pussy clenched around his cock tighter as more of your juices squirted onto the linoleum floor. "oh, you like that, princess?"

you moaned in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he praised you. "aw, how pathetic. you must love when i call you cute nicknames & tell you how good you're doing." with whatever head movement you had, you nodded.

"that's a shame because you've been nothing but dirty, i can't treat you like a good girl until you deserve it."

"p-please! i'll do anything!" you cried out, then you started twitch uncontrollably around him. a white, hot wave of pleasure washed over you as you creamed all over his cock. he wasn't done yet, he still abused your cervix, making you beg for him to stop, or at least slow down.

his thrusts turned rapid as he started to groan about how you were all his, how he wasn't going to let any other man look at you, how he would be the only one you ever think about. you knew that was all true. "y/n, you fuckin' bitch, i hate you & your pretty, little face. take it all," he yelled as he unloaded his load into your tight pussy.

you screamed in overwhelming pleasure, squirting all over him once again. the two of you caught your breaths. he set you down once his cock finally stopped twitched, & he spun you around to embrace you. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i promise i'll be the best boyfriend in the world, just give me a chance. i know we're enemies or whatever, but i don't wanna be that anymore, & i don't want to be whatever this is; just fucking like we hate each other then go our separate ways." you've never seen this side of katsuki before.

"i-i'd like that, i'd like to be your girlfriend."

you hated him. you hated how he made you feel. you hated how he infected your mind, how he ruined you for any other man. you hated how you knew you needed him.

#anime and manga #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bnha bakugou #bnha fanfiction #mha smut #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x y/n #bakugou scenarios #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou drabble #bakugou x you #bnha x reader #bnha #mha x reader #katsuki x reader smut #x reader #katsukibakugou #katsuki x reader #yandere #yandere bnha #mha bakugou #my hero x reader #yandere bakugo katsuki

[vhstown]

42!MILES BOXING AU

a wiki-style post — by @vhstown <3

HELLO this is just some extra background info i came up with for the earth-42 boxing au i wrote about in my two-shot fic time out

all of the ideas in this post i came up with by myself! nothing to do with x reader this is just totally nerdy au rambling (how id envision this au in a comic book / fighting shonen etc)

i don't write fighting stories and im not a boxer so soz if any info is unrealistic i just be making this up fr. it's fiction have fun w it!

spoilers for the fic? i guess? i basically just mansplain EVERY little detail cuz i don't have the balls to write a series

a little contents page for your sanity:

KEY FIGURES: Miles G Morales "The Prowler" // Norman Osborn // Harry Osborn "The Green Goblin" // Wilson Fisk "Kingpin" // Adrian Toomes "The Vulture"

THE UNIVERSE AT LARGE: Boxing generations // Sports journalism // Human enhancement and experimentation // Boxing and the criminal underworld

KEY FIGURES

Miles G Morales / "The Prowler"

The big man himself! Started out boxing with his Uncle Aaron after his father's death as a way to cope and get closer to his uncle.

Aaron is pretty well-versed in boxing and likely competed back with the older generation of boxers in Earth 42. Likely fought alongside Miles' dad Jefferson too back in the day and that's why Miles takes particular interest.

Miles' mom is hesitant about letting him go to Las Vegas to compete (drawing parallels from 1610!Rio not wanting Miles to move out of state for college) but eventually gives in.

I think in this case aging up Miles would be appropriate considering he's fighting adults but who says a 15-17 year old can't take on fully grown adults (fiction!!!!)

Miles gains temporary fame after beating "The Vulture" who is an old generation boxer.

Miles wants to make his family proud and also take the opportunity to make money so his mom can live comfortably but obviously that goes wrong because his manager is...

Norman Osborn

One of the sport's big shots. Has a LOT of the industry under his influence and potentially rigs matches?

Miles' first manager — Osborn takes on Miles but later lets him go because he's not "worth" the investment (which has nothing to do with actually winning as you'll see later.)

Involved in illegal human enhancement and experimentation, particularly on:

Harry Osborn / "The Green Goblin"

The boxer that takes out Miles in one punch and gets Miles' contract nullified

No consistent fighting style, flimsy and appearing to be nothing like an actual boxer but his win streak is building like no other boxer.

He's juiced up on something 😭 This is one of the main plot points of the AU where boxers and other athletes are being experimented on to acquire "superhuman" qualities. Norman is basically experimenting on his own son (for reasons maybe similar to the canon Green Goblin? Perhaps because his son wanted to be a boxer but couldn't because of a degenerative disease.)

Motivation for Miles would be to fight him again but obviously he can't immediately after losing so he has to build up his wins again and so he goes to:

Wilson Fisk / "Kingpin"

Ex heavyweight boxer and champion, probably an older generation of boxers that came before all the experimental stuff and is now a manager and big-shot and rivals with Norman.

His main thing is rigging matches and earning money through betting systems that only he profits from.

Used to manage "The Vulture" who left his contract after being beaten by Miles.

Miles goes under a contract with him after Fisk takes an interest in his win against The Vulture, and now he's masked boxer (which is pretty uncommon I heard so he sticks out and becomes popular again pretty fast) with the ring name "the Prowler"

Miles very quickly realises that Fisk is shady and he decides to break through the rigged matches that he's meant to lose and win anyway which only builds his popularity and the people betting on him.

Fisk sees opportunity in this and decides to let Miles do his own thing so that he can take down his rival Norman Osborn when Miles finally fights against The Green Goblin again.

Adrian Toomes / "The Vulture"

Long-time boxer with an unbeatable win streak, lightweight champion. By the time Miles is fighting him he's on the brink of retirement but stubbornly fights him anyway only to lose.

More of a minor villain at the start however after being let go by Fisk he turns to Norman Osborn and his experimental technology to make a come back and hopefully face off with Miles Morales again.

THE UNIVERSE AT LARGE

A quick note on "generations" of boxers

Old generation = Aaron's boxing era, prime time to be a boxer more about the sport less about the money, fame, etc.

New/second generation = Includes the Sinister Six and experimental work and crime and the whole shebang. Miles experiences boxing through this generation.

Sports journalism

The Bugle is not only a source of everyday news but they have a department dedicated solely to sports journalism!

In my fic MJ is the one who reports on Miles' win however there's definitely Gwen Stacy potential! A rookie journalist doing an internship at the Bugle and might help out Miles on his boxing endeavours (or you could sneak in an x journalist!reader if you're cheeky.)

If you wanted to take a more classic Gwen route you'd probably involve her in the next thing which is:

Human enhancement and experimentation

Oscorp in some capacity would exist in this universe, likely using the front of a company that supports athletes and their development with their technology.

Osborn uses the company's power and tech to fuel the regeneration of his son Harry Osborn and puts him into boxing (as Harry wanted.)

This technology eventually branches out into other boxers in a new-generation of genetically modified boxers — also the opponents that Miles would have to fight, likely in the form of the Sinister Six (including The Vulture.)

All of the experimentations have weaknesses to them that Miles can take advantage of (e.g. The Green Goblin is only a threat if he can land a hit.)

Boxing and the criminal underworld

Miles Morales soon realises that boxing and the sports world in general is just a massive front for criminal activity.

As he fights more and more matches under Fisk he realises the true extent of not only Fisk's world but the entirety of the boxing world in this "second generation" of boxers.

Aaron quit boxing for this exact reason and him and Miles eventually work together to take it down.

Potential for Miles to be the regular Prowler here? It's pretty much open-ended so he could be written as a vigilante with his usual gear or as a fists-only fighting shonen protagonist.

May include some link as to why Miles' father died? I kept it pretty ambiguous in my fic so he could be a police officer or ex-boxer or whatever you'd like — point is, his father's death motivates Miles to take over the boxing sphere!

a note from me

hello hello this is vee! amateur writer and even more amateur athlete (im not an athlete at all 😭)

this is just a post of my personal ideas, again none of this is canon i just put a lil spin on the original villains

if you're going to write this please tag me because id love to see!!!!!!!! even if it's not related to anything in this post AT ALL if you write or draw anything to do with boxer miles please tag me i am Starving

none of these ideas are very refined and open to change / adaptation! feel free to tack on your own ideas too

i highly doubt anybody's read this but if you did i appreciate u 😭🙏

MAKE MORE ATSV AUS PLEASE (frothing at the mouth)

ill edit or reblog this with any other ideas i might have so this is subject to change i guess <3 have a good one

#vee rants #vhstown #miles g morales #miles gonzalo morales #prowler miles #miles 42 #spiderman atsv #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv fanfiction #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv au

[defodisturbed]

Mastermind - Recoms x Singer!Recom!reader

(A/N: heyy... hey.. im back :3. im sorry for leaving for SO LONG im dealing with a lot of personal stuff right now but im really trying to write more. i want to get faster at typing and i also needa feed my children. also most of this fic will be exposition and the events leading up to the climax like im not even joking its so long. hope yall enjoy this one. mwah) (and yes I based the songs on Taylor Swift and if you're gonna be in the replies being hateful, gtfo my page (kindly))

What if I told you I'm a mastermind?

And now you're mine.

I had always hid my true past from my teammates. Practically everyone. I only really had a journal, and even that was locked away under my rug under my bed. Nobody knew it was there, and nobody could access it without waking me up or making some kind of noise. It was a sacred book to me. I could talk to... something with it. I could express my feelings of wanting to go back to the way things were, but never wanting to leave Pandora. Never wanting to leave my friends. And never wanting to leave my lovers.

I'm a recombinant for the RDA. When I died in my human body, they had my DNA and were already growing my new body to be revived. I have my memories of my past life, and it was awesome. Until... my mom found out she was drafted for the mission on Pandora. I, being the best kid ever, took her place. My fans were scared for me, and tried to convince me not to. They'd heard it all, how dangerous Pandora was. Especially for a singer with no military experience or knowledge. But I accepted my fate. For my mother. For my family. I had siblings back home, and with me going on tour all the time, I wouldn't be able to take care of them if my mother was gone. So I accepted the fact that I was most likely, if not definitely, going to die on this mission.

And I did. My family recieved the news, but also learned about Project Phoenix. They were relieved to know that their kid was going to be revived, just maybe not the same.

-----

"Hey, ma. How're you?" Prager asked as I sat down at the table. It was lunch at the cafeteria. They pretty much just fed us protein-filled slop most of the time. Rarely, they would throw a cookie in there if it was a holiday on Earth.

"Oh, it's going alright, baby. Thanks. Hey, can I ask you a question?" I replied. Prager nodded and leaned in. "Do you think you could ask the Colonel if we could go out in the forest today and just... explore? He doesn't know this, but I actually have some science friends and they showed me some fruits and animals that we can harvest and safely eat. I tried some and Pandora food is good. Like, really good. I wanna surprise the team, and you know Colonel can't say no to you."

Prager agreed and once the Colonel sat at our table, he immediately started.

"Colonel, I was wondering if we could go out into the forest today and just have some fun. Explore, fuck around in some river or something?" Quaritch looked at Prager and gave that ONE sigh. (A/N: its giving "go get my purse") "Fine. But we ain't bringing a baby viperwolf home because Ja wants one." He glared at Ja. He was always the one to see a stray dog and say "please please pleaaaaase mom can we adopt it??" as a kid.

I silently thanked Prager for doing my bidding as always.

-----

We were out in the forest, going over the rules we've memorized by heart now. Once the Colonel finished up, I immediately took off. I was so excited to get some nice food that I didn't realize the cliff drop below me. I was suddenly falling, the wind rushing past my body and feeling almost painful as it hit my face and went away so fast, over and over again.

I dived head first into a lake. The drop wasn't that bad, I realized. Alicia was first on the scene, peeking over the dropoff with a worried look on her face as she hoped to God I wasn't dead. I waved my hand up at her and called out.

"Get down here, this is so fun!! Don't be afraid to get a running start either!" my voice echoed. "Are you okay??" she shouted back. "I'm amazing!!"

Alicia ran over to the others and told them to watch her. She embraced her inner child as she ran as fast as she could and leaped off the cliff. She felt the wind rush past her face as I had, and splashed in the water with me. The rest of my team ran over and looked. We were... fine? Lopez was next. He gladly jumped and plooshed in with us. Then Prager, Zhang, Walker, Warren, Mansk, Lyle, Fike, and finally... Quaritch. He took a chance and jumped.

We were playing and splashing each other with water as we finally relaxed for once. Of course, we had fear of predators. But we didn't care as much anymore. We were playing like kids and it felt so good.

-

After we dried off and got back to the forest, I took off again. This time, more careful. I found an abandoned basket in pretty good condition and took it with me to collect fruits and veggies. I collected some yovo fruit, some other stuff I didn't know the name of but still knew was safe, and finally it was time to get some meat. I was looking to make some nice Pandora burritos for everyone. I found a nice bow and some arrows, perhaps forgotten by a young hunter excited to show their family their haul.

While I was gathering food, one of my favorite songs got stuck in my head while I was thinking about my life back on Earth. I started humming... then singing the lyrics... then full belting the long notes. I didn't realize Lyle was near, close enough to hear but far enough to stay hidden. He'd never heard my songs because he was in the military before I even debuted. I'm sure he was confused who I was singing.

I got some hexapede meat, some meat from hard fruits, and I also took down a lone viperwolf. I put the stuff in the basket to bring home.

-

"What the Hell is all of this? What've you been doing this entire time? Why do you have a bow? Did you encounter a native?" Colonel asked. I said I found it and saw no booby traps so I took it. I explained that my friends at the lab wanted some samples so I got some for them. Obviously it was a lie, but I couldn't spoil the surprise.

He allowed me to take my findings and harvest home. I thanked him and was so excited to make him and our team a good meal for once.

-----

I got out my cutting board and my cooking knife and started chopping. I cooked some of that chicken-y stuff and some of that fruit. I thanked Mansk in my head for teaching me these things.

-

I radio'd everyone to come to my room. I said I had a surprise for them. "I swear to God, if we get there and you're on the bed naked again I will... actually not be mad." Lyle said back.

"This isn't that kind of surprise, Lyle. Just get over here!"

Once they all were in the room, I retrieved a tray with foil over it. The smell wafted into the room as I uncovered the gift. They were all so surprised and hypnotized by the burritos.

"For you guys! You deserve it. Take one, I insist!" I squealed. They all grabbed one and a paper towel and with the first bite, they relaxed their tense muscles and rolled their eyes back. They hadn't had a good meal like this in a good, long while.

"Hey, Y/N, what song were you singing in the forest? You were really loud... must've been one of your favorites or something. Is it on Spotify?" Lyle asked as he finished his first bite. My eyes widened. "You... heard that?"

"Yeah, I heard a little bit too. It was something about a new romantic or something like that." Zdinarsk added. "Yeah you were singing about something related to rings or something too." Mansk said. "I don't know, I could be wrong, but last time I checked, you weren't married." Lopez said.

"Um... can we forget all of that happened? Sorry, I was just getting carried away and I sang some of my own songs and-" I was soon cut off by the Colonel saying, "Wait- your songs?"

I soon shoved them out of my room, begging them to let it go and to not talk about it again. I closed the door behind me as I slid down the metal wall to the floor. I took some big, deep breaths and checked under my bed to check if my journal and hard drives were still there, even though I'd been with them the entire time. Phew! They're still there. I thought.

-----

The next day, at dinner in the cafeteria, I brought my bag with me and sat down with everybody acting like nothing was wrong. Conversation sparked when someone asked, "So what's everyone planning on doing tomorrow? Ardmore gave us the day off." I said I was planning on bingeing my favorite show wrapped in my blankets with my favorite foods. They all agreed and said they would be training, sleeping, exploring, hooking up, or something fun/relaxing.

I suddenly got a call from my friend on the phone. I knew it was something important, because my phone was blowing up with texts while she was waiting for me to answer. I hurriedly ran off to my room for privacy, forgetting my bag full of personal stuff. Including my hard drives. Zdog decided it couldn't hurt to see what I carry around all day, so she started digging. She found my sunglasses, hairbrush/comb, an unopened soda can, some loose candy, and... hard drives?

"Hey does anyone know why Y/N has hard drives in her bag?" Z asked. Nobody knew, so she decided to take them and pass them out for them to watch later. It for sure wasn't porn, Ardmore would've never let it through. It's gotta be some home videos or something.

-----

Zdog and the others piled onto the bed in her room and uploaded the drives onto her computer. They were numbered. They watched the first one and it was a black screen with the sound of a crowd cheering. It was around an hour long. They watched as a... stage appeared. A big one. It was a stadium full of people. A concert? Then appeared the person performing. It was... you. Some already made the connections, while others took a little bit. You were performing for around 70,000 people along with cameras so everyone could watch it live. they watched all of the hard drives all throughout the night, only falling asleep when they went through all of them.

-----

You were in your room, hanging up the call. turns out it was just some cute guy flirted with her at a restaurant. Only then did you realize that you left your bag in the cafeteria. You immediately went back for it, checking everything was there because people just love to snoop. You realized all of your hard drives were missing. You soon were banging on the Colonel's door, asking if he'd seen anybody take them or had anything in their hands. He wasn't there. You knocked on everyone's door and nobody answered. You went back to your room, wailing into your pillow. Those drives were the last thing you had of Earth. Of your entire life before the military. Soon enough, you cried yourself to sleep. In the morning, you slept in. It was your day off, after all. You heard a knock on the door. You recognized it as Z. You opened the door and there she was. She came in without an invite and immediately sat on your bed.

"Y/N. I am... just so sorry. When you left your bag in the cafeteria, I looked through it when I should've respected your privacy. I found hard drives and took all of them to my room and the rest of the team and I watched all of them. In order. All the way through. I am so sorry for disrespecting your right to privacy and watching the videos that were obviously private." She closes her eyes softly, looking down toward the floor with her hands twiddling in her lap. Too embarrassed and disappointed with herself to even look at me.

"Z, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have been so secretive. Especially with the ones who love me most. The truth is, I was a very rich and famous singer on Earth. You probably know that by now. So does everyone else. But I'm trying to work through it and not be embarrassed to share my past."

"It's not your fault. I love you. We love you. You never have to hide anything from us, but if you don't want it to be shared, that's okay too. So... can we listen to some of your songs?" Z laughed. I said yes an radio'd everyone to come to my room. I had a surprise.

MWAH I love yall!!!! hope you guys enjoyed i've had this au stuck in my head since like last year :) 💋💋

@dyingofcookies ITS HERE BESTIE

#zdinarsk #avatar zdog #recom zdog #z dog #z dog x y/n #recom lyle wainfleet #recom squad #recom quaritch #recom mansk #recom oc #james cameron avatar #original character #avatar x reader

[kittyandco]

i actually have no idea what to do right now [more info and an insight into how i've been feeling lately under the cut].

i've been trying to find a job for almost 10 months. i'm tired of this. i'm tired of slogging through applications and unfair job descriptions, changing my resume for the 50th time (or not and just mass applying), writing new cover letters (or not and just using the same one), researching companies to prepare for interviews for hours at a time, scrutinizing my every move and breath because i know that they're already doing it and it still isn't good enough. i'm almost 250 applications deep. many interviews that never amount to anything. it feels like i'm running out of jobs to even apply for. [trying to move beyond retail but even those are hit-or-miss] thinking about job applications and employment is basically a compulsion at this point and i WISH i could get it out of my head.

i am bored beyond belief. i hate how much time i've had to fill with just scrolling my dash or my youtube home feed when it's the same stuff on it over and over and over and not even deciding on anything to read/watch. how much time i've spend just... laying there. there have been times where it's just so hard to take care of myself, where i don't have much of anything motivating me.

my life has amounted to absolutely nothing (i know that isn't TRUE but it feels like it right now); i won't even reach any semblance of independence that i so desperately need anytime soon. i thought i could. i really thought i could succeed. i can't seem to move forward in any way at all. my two options are standing still or moving backwards. idk what to do. i've tried everything i can think of

it's gotten to the point where i'm either angry, sad, uncomfortable, or guilty all the time and i hate it so much. the only time i don't feel that way is when i'm working on my personal projects, reading, or hanging out with my friends. that can only take me so far, too. because sometimes, especially with the reading and personal projects, it feels like an obligation to get my mind off stuff, rather than what i want to do. i just feel trapped in a small, small world.

i've just gone nonverbal for the past few hours. i can't even look my parent (the one who isn't constantly criticizing literally everything i do on top of everything going on and knowing how i've been feeling) in the face and say hello. i try. very hard. to not seem hopeless. but this happens a lot. i'm so irritated i just want to be ALONE for ONCE. i don't want to answer to anyone. i'm ready to just get away. i'm just so beaten down

i have editing and extensive writing experience so i've been thinking about opening paid requests to edit essays or other types of writing, or even fic commissions, but i know that it isn't even going to go anywhere. all anyone cares about is art anyway and i stopped posting my writing here long ago because of that. so i probably won't even bother

please don't comment with advice or questions about job applications or anything of the sort. no "something will come along" please... it's just so painful to hear now. when i say i've heard it all, TRUST ME. i do not want to hear it.

anyway i just wanted to get this out where others could see it but not in a one-on-one conversation, and not in the private pages of my journal. my journal is full of stuff just like this, and it makes me feel worse just continuing to fill it with spiraling of the same same same same same same because nothing ever changes for me

and finally, if one of you is going through the same thing, take solace. you aren't alone. you are loved despite how you feel

#meows

[dejwrites]

i don't mean this in a rude way and i'm also black but i've always had this question but never knew if it's okay to ask but why do you think representation of black women in fanfiction is important? cause i've seen never seen hispanic, asian, (especially south asian) indigenous ect fanfiction before, reader's looks are almost always neutral

for one, i always find it strange that black writers in fandom spaces/fanfic communities are always questioned on why they write black reader. like we're really the only group of people that get asked this as if it's our phone number and literally, the answer to this question can be found in countless popular posts on here explaining black people frustration of reading 'ran his fingers through your silky hair', 'you blushed so hardly your cheeks stained red', the fanfic aesthetic edits that have white girl in them, the fan art made for the fic where it's y/n and character and y/n is drawn as a visible white woman...i can go on.

but to answer your question, it's important for black representation in fanfiction, just like it's important to have black representation in books, tv shows, movies, modeling, art, journalism, tech, the health industry, etc. it's important to have black representation in fandom spaces period, especially when we engage in fandom type of stuff—we're usually bullied and hit with anti blackness *cough* see black cosplayers for example *cough*. plus, i think it's important because i know in some years there will be some 18-year-old jujutsu kaisen loving ass black person stumbling upon my or one of the lovely black writers archived blogs or a03 account (pls tumblr and a03 survive so the next generation can experience it hehe) and eyes literally lighting up reading fanfics where reader is described of having natural hair, box braids, brown skin, etc.

and for the last portion of your message, with other poc communities..if they wanted to describe reader's looks and culture for their specific community...they could. maybe it's a preference for them to have reader neutral...just like for some black writers it's a preference for them to write reader as neutral as possible.

pls let's leave the 'why you write reader as black' type of questions in this year. frankly all obviously white coded reader in fanfics aside........black writers can write reader as black because we fuckin' can.

#━━ ♡ inbox things [ answers ] #tw: discourse

[wintervalewritersecond]

retrocognition - xavier thorpe

masterlist

requested: yes! requests: open! I love your writing so much! If you have the time could you please do a xavier x reader where him and the reader don’t really get along at all, kinda enemies! And the reader is a witch and she is having difficulty doing a spell but then Xavier comes in and bothers her and somehow she accidentally casts a spell that makes them go into the future. in the future her and xavier are like married with kids and they both are kinda freaking out over seeing their future selves and when they get back to the past Xavier is trying to deny what they just saw but they eventually end up together?

A/N: this idea is so super cute <33 i hope you like it :) they dont quite end up together just yet, especially because they were enemies before and this is only one small fic, but i do hope you enjoy reading! <3

wordcount: 2,772 warnings: she/her reader, incorrect information about witchcraft, xavier annoys reader

Xavier Thorpe and you do not get along. Then why is it that he is in your future?

"Here you are!"

You thank Thornhill before stepping into the empty classroom. The bag on your shoulders is heavy as it is filled with countless jars of ingredients, incense, candles and different types of water. To top it all off, it had a thick book filled with all the spells and sigils you know.

There was a history test coming up, and you thought of the perfect way to learn from it; seeing the past.

Sure, it might be a bit extreme, but if you have the power to do it, you might as well use that to your advantage. From what you know, you have everything to perform the spell.

No one else was going to enter the classroom any time soon, so you could use all the tables to put your stuff down. Jar after jar, candle after candle came out of your bag before it neatly got placed in its own spot. For a spell this hard, you needed all the space and organization you could get.

You had performed this spell once before, but it had been a while. The last time, you only went backward a week. You only wanted to know at what time you were going to meet your friend later that day.

Now you were going to try to go back to the 1600s to learn about Joseph Crackstone. Sure, the entire city knew of the history, but none of them have truly lived it. Pilgrim World is just a poor excuse for trying to remake it while selling fudge. You are not a Crackstone fan considering he would have killed you back in those days, but he wouldn't be able to see you in the past anyway.

With the spells that you performed, you turned invisible when being in a place where you shouldn't be. It is like watching a movie. You see them, yet they don't see you. You open your journal, flipping through the pages before seeing the one you need. It had a sigil on it already, one connected to the Retrocognition spell.

Just as you light your first candle, the door swings open. You look up, slightly annoyed. Did Thornhill rent the room out to another student?

"You're here?"

Out of all students, it had to be Xavier.

For some reason, the two of you never got along. Not because you didn't want to befriend him - no. He just decided to be a complete ass to you since the beginning. The two of you were in the same friend group, yet he never spoke a positive word to you. It would always be something snarky or negative.

"Yeah?" You raise an eyebrow. "Thornhill told me that I could use it. It was going to be empty the entire day anyway."

"I was allowed to use it for my Botany homework."

"Xavier," you groan. "Just use the other half of the classroom. Just... Stay out of my way. I have a History test that I need to learn for."

He circles your table as you only keep setting things up. You can't have him messing up your spell. More candles get lit as you crush up some flowers and herbs.

"Is this your homework?" He lets out a laugh. "I wish my homework consisted of scribbles and some seasoning."

You roll your eyes as you place each ingredient in its designated spot. If he messes up your spell, you will kill him.

"It's not just some scribbles. They're called sigils, dumbass," a sigh leaves your lips. "And they are for history class. There is a test coming up."

Another laugh leaves Xavier as he flips through your journal.

"How are some pen marks and rose leaves going to teach you History?"

"Xavier, we both know you're too dumb to understand this. Just go to the other side of the classroom and don't bother me."

The last thing you needed was the journal. You had to place it in the circle of candles, drawing the sigil while saying the incantation. But, considering the tall boy had your book, you couldn't get the spell started. He is flipping through the pages with a big grin on his face.

"Oh, look at me!"

He takes hold of some rose petals, sprinkling them around on the table and the floor.

"I am Y/N," he lets out a laugh before grabbing more ingredients, spilling them on the table.

"Xavier, stop it! You're messing with my spells!"

"That's not true," he takes hold of your hand before pushing a pen into it. "I am merely helping with your 'oh so important' History homework!"

He takes your hand to write on the paper, making random shapes and lines.

"Look! I could be a witch, this is easy."

"Xavier! Stop being so annoying!"

You take the pen off of the paper as Xavier's hand still holds yours, but to your surprise, the paper actually starts glowing. No way that he had activated a spell.

"Retrocognition?"

A bright light exploded in the room, making you shield your eyes with your hand. Xavier also lets out a yelp, what the fuck happened?

When the light dims, you finally open your eyes again.

"Where the fuck are we?"

In front of you is a house. A beautiful one, but certainly not one from the 1600s. Music can be heard from inside, together with some talking and you even hear a meow.

Someone walks past you, carrying a bag on their shoulders. He is tall and his hair flows to his shoulders. The man is not that old, though older than you and Xavier now. A smile is on his face as he walks up to the house.

"Wait a second," you let out a giggle. "Is that you?"

Xavier walks up to the guy as you follow him. It certainly was. His face looks almost the same, yet a bit more mature. It is like he is looking in a mirror, one that shows him his future.

"You look old," you laugh, elbowing the artist.

"Shut up," he rolls his eyes. "What happened with that stupid spell that you were trying to cast?"

"Someone happened to fuck it up," you narrow your eyes at him before nodding to the door. "I'm going to see what your old ass is up to."

Future Xavier unlocks the door, allowing you and Present Xavier to slip inside. Not that they would see you anyway. The music gets a bit louder as you hear some movement from what seems to be the kitchen.

"Love? I'm home!"

"Aw," you look at Present Xavier, trying to hold in your laughter. "Someone is dumb enough to be stuck with you. That's sweet."

"You jealous?" Xavier raises an eyebrow as he looks down at you. "At least I know that I won't be alone in the future."

You roll your eyes, slowly following Future Xavier around.

"Look! He is even wearing a wedding ring!"

The house truly is beautiful. It is filled with plants in different corners, a cozy couch, a big kitchen, and huge windows. If you didn't know any better, then you would surely have said that this is your dream house.

"I'm in here!"

Your eyebrows furrow when you hear the new voice. It is strangely similar, but... it can't be, right? Xavier catches up to you, not fully sure what to do. He has never been in a spell like this before. Hell, he didn't even know any spells. Sure, he would say 'open sesame' when trying to unlock his door if his hands were full, but the door never swung open.

You stop in your tracks when your eyes fall on the new figure.

In the kitchen is a shorter girl, one looking exactly like you. Her height, her body language, her voice, and her face. What are you doing here with Xavier? A high-pitched laughter can be heard as Future Xavier hurries to the table, dropping his bag before picking up a small girl.

"There's my favorite girls!"

Future you also has a ring on her finger, one that fits together with Future Xavier. Present Xavier stops walking as he takes in the three figures.

There he is. Holding a young girl with one arm while the other is resting on your shoulders, pulling you into him as Future you lets out a giggle.

"What the fuck?" Xavier whispers.

It was weird enough to see himself in the future, even if he didn't change too much. But it is even weirder to see himself together with you, and with a child. You are also frozen in place, your eyes fixated on the three figures in front of you. What type of spell is this? Is this actually real? Or is this only your imagination playing tricks on you? Surely not. If Xavier can see it, then it must actually be happening, right?

"I'm getting out of this," Xavier groans, turning around to walk back out of the front door before his eyes fall on an item.

On the wall hangs a big canvas with a very specific scene on it. Future him in a neat, black suit. Next to him stands Future you, dressed in a long gown. Both have big smiles on their faces. His fingers twitch, did he paint that? The picture almost seems to move in front of him as the figures get closer and closer, sharing a soft and loving kiss before returning to their original positions.

"Y/N, get us out of here!"

Xavier is confused and even slightly scared. You break your stare as you look over to the tall artist. With only a nod, you take his hands in yours, whispering an incantation to break whatever spell you were in right now.

Another bright light makes you close your eyes as you return to the Nevermore classroom. Xavier pulls his hands out of yours harshly.

"What was that!?"

"I don't know!" You let out a deep sigh.

Your journal had stopped glowing, only pen stripes from whatever sigil Xavier had come up with are left on the page. You run your fingers over it, confused as you try to read off of the pages.

"It's precognition," you let out a whisper. "We were supposed to see the past, but instead... it was the future."

Xavier lets out a short laugh before shaking his head.

"Whatever that was is not my future."

He slings his bag back on his shoulders, glaring at you as he backs up.

"We will never talk about this. Ever."

You weren't in the mood anymore to try any other spell. Instead, you just cleaned up the mess of flower petals and herbs before retreating to your dorm.

-

The spell had really messed you up.

After that dreaded day, you had tried multiple times to find out what happened. To find out if it was true. But no matter which color of candle you used, or what type of incantation, they all gave you the same answer.

This was your future.

Xavier Thorpe.

You tried to talk to him, maybe if you did, you could avoid the future that he seems to hate so much. Sure, Xavier wasn't your best friend either, but at least you don't despise him as much as he despises you. He is pretty and mesmerizing, but the way he treated you was just the worst.

He would sit on the opposite side of the table during lunch breaks, and would completely ignore you before, during, or after classes.

"Xavier looks even angrier than usual," Ajax snickers. "What did you do this time?"

You roll your eyes as you read through your journal. Is there really not any other Truth or Future spell out there?

"Absolutely nothing," you shrug. "Maybe he is in one of his moods."

"I don't know," the Gorgon chews on the end of his pencil. "He's been really moody this past week."

You don't really respond. What are you supposed to say? 'Oh, he found out that he and I are married in the future and he absolutely hates it.' That sounds incredibly stupid. Even if it is true.

-

Later that night you sat in your dorm yet again. Around you is a circle of candles in all sorts of colors, their flames the only source of light. It feels like you have read every single page of all your Witchcraft books at least five times, yet you still haven't found any spells to help you out. There has to be something that can show you a different future, right?

A knock on your door pulls you out of your focused state. Who would be at your door right now? You don't have a dorm mate, and from what you knew, most of your friends were out to Jericho. You stand up from your seat, walking up to the door to open it. Behind it stands Xavier with a tired look in his eyes and his sketchbook in his hands.

"Can I come in?" He mumbles softly, looking down at you with the softest look he has ever given you.

You step to the side, allowing the artist to enter your room. He stays silent. No snarky comment, nothing mean. Just silence.

"Have you found anything else?"

The only answer you give him is a shake of your head. You had really tried. Xavier his reaction during the spell was enough - he didn't want this future. At least, not with you.

"Can we try again?"

His question shocks you. He wants to enter the spell again? Go through more scenarios of the two of you together?

"Are you sure?"

He nods, placing his sketchbook onto your bed before stepping into the circle. You just quickly follow him, opening the page of scribbles that Xavier had drawn before. His hands are already reaching for yours when you speak the incantation.

Another bright light.

This time, you aren't in front of the house. Instead, you appeared in it, already. There is no furniture around you. No curtains, no couch, no table, not even a wooden floor.

"I can't believe this!"

Future you squeals as she runs around the house, inspecting every room once more.

"Look! This one can be your art studio, and then the room next to it can be for my spells and potions!"

The woman pulls Future Xavier with her, holding his hand tightly as she spits out different ideas for the space.

Present Xavier swallows thickly, his hands balled up into fists.

"Are you okay?" You whisper, looking up at his taller figure.

"I have seen this before."

How would he have seen this before? He knows nothing of witchcraft - the spell he performed before was just a simple accident. The spell ends quite quickly, returning to just you and Xavier in the middle of your bedroom. It stays quiet. The only movement comes from the lit candles whose flames are moving in the non-existing wind.

"Why did you want to see it again?" You softly speak up. "You hate the outcome. It didn't change one bit."

The boy shakes his head, reaching for his sketchbook before flipping through the pages, stopping at one specific drawing which seems familiar.

"I haven't been able to sleep this entire week," he admits. "I had these dreams. Dreams that felt like the one spell. I drew all of them."

He holds his hand up on the page, the figure of you pulling Xavier with you before disappearing behind one of the pencil lines. You can almost hear your excited chattering and Xavier's laughter. But that is not the only thing he drew.

Different dates, your wedding, even sketches from the little girl.

Everything was exactly as the spell had told you.

"I convinced myself for so long," he mumbles. "I tried to tell myself that I didn't like you. That, if I ignored you, you would stay out of my way. But I don't want to do that anymore."

You let out a giggle, looking up at him.

"Alright," you whisper. "We can start over?"

Xavier looks at you, a relieved look on his face as he nods. Though the future scared him, he now does truly want it. He felt like he didn't deserve a future with you after how he treated you. But, he might change his mind. He might be able to change himself and make up for all the times he wished he could hold you, kiss you, be with you.

"Yeah," he nods with a smile before he holds out his hand. "Xavier Thorpe. Nice to meet you."

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe oneshot #wednesday imagine #wednesday oneshot

[atomicwinnerdreamland]

Heyyyyyy I saw you were taking requests :)

Can we please have some NY and Louisiana hc’s?

Hii! Yes of course :D

New York:

-He likes to paint and read. His favorite things to paint are sunsets/sunrises, architecture (CA's Golden Gate, FL's Disney World, his own buildings, etc), and plants. His favorite types of books to read are psychological thriller, fantasy, and coming of age classics (occasionally romance as well, though he'd never admit it)

-He and California have little arguments where they talk about how similar they are to each other. "I have the Brooklyn Bridge!" "Well I have the Golden Gate!" "I have the New York Times, you copycat!" "No you're the copycat, I have the Los Angeles Times!" They're not really arguments though since these conversations usually end in laughter.

-Speaking of the NYT, he likes to journal. Whenever he can't resort to violence to let out emotions, he writes his feelings out on the nearest piece of paper he can find. Sometimes he burns them, other times he keeps them in a special drawer to read for later. He also likes to write little moments that occur in his life that he finds interesting; like eating good food, making a snowman, discovering a new song he knows he'll hyperfixate on for months, etc. He also likes to write books, though most of the time they're just little picture books you could read to kids because that's all he has time for

-I've mentioned this before, but New York plays board games with California. He wins against Cal in Monopoly but loses against him in Uno. New York also plays games (board games and party games) against his northeastern besties and he's very competitive when doing so.

-He's a fashion icon. The other states ask him for fashion advice and he delivers since fashion is a passion for him 💅 He's been told he could be a model, but he never actively pursued a modeling career bc of his statehouse responsibilities

-I feel like he'd be a huge fan of Taylor Swift, especially 1989 TV. Evermore's another one of her albums that he vibes with since a song called coney island's on it and bc it's a calming album for him :)

-He's friendly to Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine. All three states are kind and don't annoy him, and New York appreciates that. They also all play in the snow at times. He also has a soft spot for Indiana, Wyoming, and Alaska.

-This one's a popular one, but my baby over here has insomnia. The only way he can get a true night's rest is if somebody's there to cuddle him ane calm his mind down, like *coughs* California. This fic by @alaskashigh is a great example of this if you want to read one :)

-Him and Illinois get along well. They buy each other coats for the winter and argue a lot about pizza and sports teams. Through this, New York managed to get along with Indiana and Minnesota, and now all three of them like to grocery shop together lol

-When that whole fiasco of the skies turning orange occured in the Northeast, the first person New York turned to was California, and rightfully so. California helped patch New York up and gave him advice on how to deal with stuff like that. New York told the rest of the NE what Cal told him so that they also know what to do.

-He shows he cares through gifts and actions. He doesn't say "I love you" very often, but he'd hurt anyone who hurts his loved ones, give you his coat when you're cold, make you some food, or plants specific flowers when he finds out what flowers you like. New Jersey usually helps New York with the planting part, and that's one of the rare times those 2 get along.

Louisiana:

-Louisiana hangs out in the woods with Florida and Texas just to get away from the Statehouse and to gossip.

-One of his favorite songs ever is House of the Rising Sun, and he never misses an opportunity to sing it. You can hear him sing it while he cooks, cleans, or when he does really anything. The states aren't annoyed about it though because his voice is captivating.

-He's a very comforting person. The states go to him whenever they need somebody to talk to because Loui can do it all: he can listen, cook, and make jokes.. whatever you need to feel better.

-He enjoys learning about old folk tales, urban legends, and superstitions in the US and around the world. The states often catch him watching paranormal true crime documentaries with a grin on his face, and the only state that's not unsettled by this is Florida.

-Speaking of Florida, he and Florida go on dates by doing the most dangerous stuff. Skydiving without parachutes, doing hit and runs, armed robbery in important government buildings just to make Gov mad, whatever crazy things these goons can think of. But on other times where they're feeling relaxed, their dates are just them cuddling or eating. They enjoy both bc they have each other :)

-(TW: suicide, death) If he was a normal person, he'd be dead a long time ago. He's been stabbed, shot at, beat up, hanged, basically killed, but since he's a personification he just sustained the injuries and went on about his day. When he found out he was a personification, he killed himself just to see what'd happen. Would he clearly see the paranormal stuff he likes so much? Would he see an afterlife? Imagine his surprise when nothing happened to him.

-He can read, but he just doesn't want to. He just likes to read his Mama's recipes and children's books. When New York makes a new children's book, Loui usually asks him if he can read it, and New York lets him.

-He was a nice kid in high school. Respectful to his Mama, probably indulged in some sports, escaped to the woods once in a while, and had a decent group of friends that were just as wild as him. He's the type of guy to not make any enemies, and he was one of those rare ones who were good looking in high school (I wish that were me lmao)

-He and Texas are buddies and cook together a lot. When Louisiana needs help with anything, especially natural disasters, Texas is the first one to make sure he's okay and vice versa. When Florida's off doing... something that definitely is a threat to his life and/or someone else's (aka being himself), Loui and Texas go to parties together. Loui gets drunk and usually almost blacks out whereas Texas only takes a couple drinks to make sure he and Loui get back home safe. They got each other's backs, basically.

-He and South Dakota get along most of the time, and the only time they don't is when SD talks about Pierre and pronounces it "peer". Loui doesn't take it too seriously, but they like to jokingly argue about it.

-He has a big heart and it's obvious. He likes to show love through his words and his actions. Like New York, he wouldn't hesitate to throw a punch to someone who has hurt you, but he also would stop whatever he's doing to make sure you feel loved and taken care of. He's almost burned the statehouse down once because he was comforting his buddy Arkansas, but California was around to stop this potential fire. He also likes to say he cares about you, you can occasionally hear him say je t'aime mon amour/mon ami(e) & tu es magnifique. (I love you, my love/my friend & you are beautiful).

That's all I have for now, thank you for the ask :D

#wttt #welcome to the table #wttsh #ben brainard #welcome to the statehouse #wttt new york #wttt louisiana #wttt headcanons #wttt caliyork #caliyork is slightly mentioned tho #wttt floui

[cookinguptales]

I almost wrote a small essay in the tags of that "fanwork as content" post but realized that it would probably be better off as its own post. So now it's... a large, rambling essay. lmao

Like... to preface, AO3 is great, it's a great resource for fandom, it feels good to have a centralized location that works well. That said, there has been a steady decline in how I've felt treated as an author since we switched to an archive-only model of fic.

For people who are newer to fandom, pre-AO3 (and even in the early days of AO3), people often crossposted fic. Sometimes to websites, sometimes to journals (particularly LJ/DW), sometimes to communities, sometimes to kink memes...

AO3, while certainly one of the primary places you could upload stuff, wasn't necessarily where you would get most of your primary interaction about your fic. It was always designed to be an archive, not a social media site.

But since we moved to an archive model (and away from LJ/DW) I've noticed that fic gets almost no traction on sites that actually are intended for social interaction. I'm not saying it's easy for any creator in fandom, but god. The numbers on fic posts are just downright demoralizing.

I don't mean to sound arrogant here, but I think I'm a pretty good writer. People seem to really connect with my fic. In multiple fandoms, I've written fic that most people have read and enjoyed, to the point where people have just taken it for granted that if someone reads fic in the fandom, they've probably read something I've written.

All this is to say, I know I've written fics that people like. I know I've written fics that people connect with. And I know those posts still only get like 5 notes sometimes on Tumblr.

I'm proud of my work and I'm happy that it's gotten such a warm welcome on AO3!!! But there are times when I feel like all this means that I could write literally the best fic on earth and still no one would talk to me. People still wouldn't want to interact with me on social media sites.

I wrestled for... honestly, a long time with all this. I had a hard time putting into words why this felt so uh. Bad. Was I just self-conscious about my own writing? Yes, but that's a separate issue. Was I just jealous of others' popularity? Sort of, but it went deeper than that.

I had an issue with a fandom that I don't write in anymore. I got a lot of fanart based on my fic, which was great, which was amazing, there were even fan comics made. Visual media travels better on social media than fic. That's just a fact. And I had to watch as repeatedly, art based on the fic I wrote got thousands of notes while my fic got maybe 12. And I realized the power of social media vs. AO3 because it did get to audiences that weren't familiar with my fic and people started to give those artists credit for my ideas.

I remember watching the tags of those posts because it was occasionally the only way I'd hear feedback on what I'd written (imagine getting one comment and 5 notes on a fic, then seeing dozens of people in the tags of fanart saying that it was their favorite fic in the fandom! it was weird!) and seeing the tags gradually devolve into "oh, this is such a neat idea for an AU, artist OP" or "wow this dialogue is perfect [artist] I love it" and like

It's weird to feel so happy because so many people are enjoying your work in a transformative way but also so unhappy because you have been completely removed from the equation. No one... even knows you wrote those things anymore. You have been removed in favor of a more "marketable" version of your work.

It's uh. It's a bad feeling. I stopped writing in that fandom eventually.

So again, I felt like... idk, like there was no point in me even trying. Because I could write the best fic on earth and still somehow get erased as a person. People would want my "content," but they wouldn't want me.

I think that's what hurt my feelings so much.

What I've realized is this: what I miss is the sense of community. On LJ, you could post a fic, cross-post it to a community, and there would be comments that would become conversations that would become lasting friendships. Not always! But often. I still talk to some people daily who I met through fic on LJ over a decade ago.

In the archive model, there has almost become a death of the author. The me on social media and the me on AO3 are very different; more importantly, it's almost like it's viewed as the "me" is on social media, but the work is on AO3. I am absent. There is only the fic, not the person who created it.

And that's okay, but when you try to combine those two things on social media and it goes over like a lead balloon... idk. There's an odd sense of dehumanization. I don't mean it in like... I don't know, a dramatic human rights violation kind of way. More that I literally feel like less of a human person the way I interact with fandom these days. Like I'm no longer a person who writes fic as a way to connect with my fellow fans and more a "content creator" whose human side is separate from my creation and never the twain shall meet.

(And I'll admit it feels especially galling to be forced into the capitalistic "content creator" box when it's not even a thing I can make money off of, lmao. It's like the worst of both worlds. I feel like if I can't make money off fanfic, I should at least be exempt from capitalistic social trends during its creation.)

I'm not so much complaining about my current fandom; WWDITS has actually been one of the best fandoms for interaction I've been in since the birth of AO3. That's one of the reasons I keep writing stories for fellow fans to read -- many of those fans feel like my friends, and I want to make them happy.

I think that poster was right when they talked about how the pivot from fan to "content creator" has fucked up fandom. There is this sense that we should be treating fandom like a job, often a fast-paced one with no pay. There is this idea that we should be separated from our "content" like you might a worker from their product, and blah blah blah alienation of labor, Marx, I get it, but damn if that isn't a shitty thing to do to your fellow fans who are making art for the love of art.

There are so many things I do love about AO3. I like having a central, organized place to put my fic. I like not having to worry about my work being lost to the ages. I like having an organized comments section I can return to on bad days to cheer myself up.

But I don't like the way that fic has kind of been relegated to a portion of fandom where people aren't particularly social. I don't like the way that authors are separated from their writing. I hear people complain sometimes about A/Ns because god forbid an author leave any trace of their actual personality to distract you from their content.

I can't have DMs with someone on AO3. I can't add someone to my friends list. There are no "beloved mutuals." There is just my work and the people who are kind enough to comment on it, even if they never actually engage with me elsewhere.

It's... a weird feeling, to feel so loved and unloved at the same time. Like you keep writing trying to make something good enough that people will talk to you but like. That's really not how it works. lmao. The best fic in the world won't make you friends anymore. It won't make people see you as a fellow fan rather than a pen name under a title.

My fic is some of the most personal stuff in the entire world, but my personhood is stripped away from it. It's so fucking weird. People like my fic, but they don't like me. They remember my stories but not the person who told them. It's bizarre. It feels like having your life and experiences strip-mined for content, and then the rest of it is just... left behind.

Frankly... I work in the publishing industry IRL and I have had opportunities to write professionally. Real, tangible opportunities. But I turned them down because I've seen it, the way that trying to fit such an intensely personal art form into a capitalistic framework can be exhausting, dehumanizing, and stressful. I don't want that for my work. Fandom has always been an escape from that.

But now fandom is starting to conform to those exact same capitalistic frameworks (and ofc without any kind of capitalistic compensation) and I hate to see it. It's so stressful. I feel like we're losing a lot of what makes fandom fun for writers and we're getting pretty much nothing in return. I'm not surprised that so many writer friends I know in fandom have quit.

like damn, I just wanna have fun with a bunch of dumbshits who love to overanalyze vampires and cry over their dumbshit shenanigans, not take on a second job. one that, I reiterate, I am not being paid for.

(Note: I am not asking for payment, just that I not be treated like a worker. The tradeoff for treating someone like a worker is that they get compensated for it. If I'm not being compensated, no one gets to treat me like this is my fucking job.)

It's a weird thing, because for a lot of people, fandom has become their job. Fanartists at cons selling fanart, youtube essayists making money off videos, professional cosplayers with sponsorships, etc. And so fandom is becoming more corporate, more capitalistic, more marketable. It's frustrating for those who don't want to capitalize on our fannish output, and doubly frustrating for people who are legally unable to do so.

I'm realizing as I write this that I'm most upset about the nonconsensual capitalization of fandom, particularly when imposed on people who are unable to access the very meager benefits of capitalism. I didn't ask for any of this!

Feels like when I'd be forced to go to assemblies for the US military when I was in high school. Like I'm morally opposed to all this but I'm also not physically fit for "service" anyway, so it's doubly insulting. I feel like I've been opted into the, ah, corporatization of fandom when I'm not even eligible for employee benefits. None of this should even apply to me! ;;

Okay!! I'm all het up now so I'm gonna go eat lunch and go for a walk! No monetization of hobbies, only trees.

#I need to go look at a tree lmao #just me #vent post #ask to tag idrk

[ginnyw-potter]

A recap of 2023

so this is the year I wrote. I wrote more than I have ever done and so I thought it would be nice to look back on 2023 and look a little further back as well.

I used to write fanfic, I think I started about 14 years ago. I am not a native speaker and my English definitely needed some work then. I also have so many qualms about my old writing (I apparently hadn't found out about paragraphs yet), but we all have to start writing somewhere.

I stopped writing little by little, feeling burned out and completely stopped in 2018 (for various reasons). I don't think I wrote anything at all in 2019 or very little. In 2020 I dipped my toes in again with a few oneshots.

End of 2021 is when I started writing again and finally came back to writing Harry Potter fanfic. I started out with a longfic of 70K words! It was a struggle and I think it's like a muscle that wasn't being used. A Guiding Light is the fic that got me back in and I posted it throughout 2022.

And then I started two new fics because I was inspired again. I started posting those at the end of 2022/start of 2023. Knight of Mine and Peverell's Progeny have both surpassed the word count of Guiding Light with ease. It was never my purpose to get to a certain word count, and it is not what I focus on, but going from nearly 0 words in 2020 and slowly increasing, it's amazing to see myself putting out so many words.

And as well this year I focused less on what things I think people want to read and got a little more self-indulgent and it is so rewarding. It really makes me enjoy writing it even more.

My mental health has been shit before and it really took a nose dive in 2018, but this year I finally started feeling like myself again. My anxiety has gotten so much better and in turn I have been sick way less (although I did knock it out of the park at the start of the year with about 5 weeks of various illnesses) so I feel like I can enjoy life more in general. I am not sure if my writing helped me get there or if I am writing more because I am feeling better. All in all, I think writing has been helping me get through various things and it is one of the only things I enjoy doing consistently.

I haven't kept exact track of how much I wrote in the last year but based on my AO3 statistics as they are today (26th of Dec), I think it's safe to say that 2023 has surpassed all the others before.

You can see the majority of what I wrote, 414K of a total 541K, has been posted in the last year. It's crazy to think about. A lot of people found my writing as well this year and it's been so amazing getting that feedback ...as well as crazy paternity guesses with emojis, begging me for horse smut (that is still a no-you know who you are) and bribing me to update early... they really do make my day and some of you are too funny for your own good.

Looking ahead a little, I want to see what else I can achieve in the upcoming year. I am not setting any specific goals for myself other than continuing to work on my ongoing fics and not starting too many new ones (*pushes Pirate AU back under the bed*) Buut I am curious how much writing I actually get up to and so I made myself a little tracker.

Bullet journaling is the only other hobby aside from writing that I seem to be able to do consistently. I just kind of fell out of it in the summer of 2022 and finally picked it back up again for 2024. I think when I wasn't writing, it was a good different outlet for me and I still enjoy it. It simply slipped out of my habits, especially when I moved out on my own last year and I was too focused on keeping up with chores and other stuff. Now I am a little more organised, so I do hope to keep it up. It will also force me to do something else than writing once in a while, which is probably healthy for me.

This tracker looks a little chaotic, I know, but i wanted to get everything on one page. Maybe next year I can tell you exactly how much I wrote.

And word counts are nice but I think improving is also important and I do feel like I have managed to learn a lot of things this year and I will continue to do so in the coming year. I take great inspiration from other people's writing. I always get inspired when I read an especially good fic (which often ends up with me starting a new WIP, send help) and I discover new ways to put in descriptions or how to phrase something a certain way. And talking to other fic writers on here, or discord, is also where I learn a lot. A ton of you are so talented and it is such a joy to be able to discuss things, pick your brains and get feedback. Sometimes I just learn things by reading along to someone else's discussion. Sometimes you find answers to questions you didn't know to ask!

I also want to thank my beta readers, who have read so many words this year. They are so FAST and then apologise for being slow. I cherish them so much.

If you read up to this point, thank you! If you've read a fic of mine this year, thank you as well. If you left me kudos or comments, recced me... you get a little kiss on the forehead.

If you have achievements of your own this year that you are proud of, do share them! (Reblog or send me an ask, I want to hear about it!) Let's celebrate all the work you put in!

#writing #fic #personal

[pinkboxess]

ruminations on fanfiction

I have been all happy today because of all the requests I got, so I'm thinking about all the reasons I love fanfic, and all the happiness it brings to my life, yada yada yada.

So, I majored in English, and for the first half or so of my undergrad, I planned to go into the publishing field. (This will be relevant, I promise.) I wrote things that I submitted places and tried to get published. Some of them were accepted and some of them were rejected. I took editing classes and volunteered as an editor for my school's literary journal.

And I didn't like it.

I realized after a little bit that the more "advanced" I got into that field and that world, the more I disliked it. It wasn't what I was best at, either. I never really got the hang of making good editing decisions (as in, deciding whether to accept or reject a submission). Trying to cater my own writing towards what publishers wanted was also less than enjoyable.

I love, love writing, so it's not that I regretted my major or lost the passion or anything. But I like writing the most when it's not going to be evaluated. Either when that's my own writing being evaluated by a publisher, or me as the editor evaluating someone else's work. Those are important jobs that I don't want to dismiss as inherently immoral or something like that-- if you're an editor, that's awesome. But it just wasn't for me. I always liked people's pieces too much or not enough, depending on whether it spoke to me, personally. It was too hard to be objective. I didn't really like trying to be objective.

So I don't write stuff to send to publishers anymore. For one thing, I'm in grad school now in a different field, and for another, I just really don't enjoy myself as much when I'm writing a piece that makes my brain go into that mode of "this has to be good" in a literary sense of the word good. At some point in my life I might like to go back to that kind of writing. But for right now, it's just not enjoyable, and since writing is a hobby for me, I don't make myself try to sit down and write something that I'm not excited about.

But I write loads and loads of fanfiction because fanfiction is so freeing. It's the epitome of self-indulgence. It's like this giant playground where I can write about vulnerable concepts like sexual desire and body image and aging and relationships. I mean, personally, I don't see myself writing sex scenes in anything except fanfiction, especially ones so detailed and intended for enjoyment.

But it's really like you're writing in this separate little safe bubble where you can do anything you want. The only feedback you receive is positive (I mean, just personally, I've never received a hate comment, so I can say that.) You can write works that are as short or as long as you want. You can post every day or once a month. You can always write the exact same trope, or you can do something totally new every time. And whatever you write, there will probably be an audience for it.

It's writing just purely for the sake of enjoyment. You're not trying to be good. You're not trying to pen a masterpiece. You're not submitting it for approval-- instead, you're posting it to be enjoyed freely, with zero barrier to entry. And that's what prevents me from losing motivation. I don't get tired of it, because it's always fun, and if anything about it isn't fun, I just don't do that.

I am so glad I've found some people in one of the corners of the internet who read my fics <3 it's such a fun hobby and distraction and escape and therapy substitute. Thank you for feeding my hyperfixation/special interest/obsession.

#see even if it wasn't already evidence that i'm a writer #the length of this post proves it #i never can be brief can i

[seffien]

i've got a new fic i'm writing so let me introduce you to its main character: billie. or billy. either's fine. i havent come up with a definite hairstyle for them yet...

but this one works. i like it.

besides that, billie is heavily into freaky salmonid, specifically the horrorboros. she's only seen it in photos from SR workers, but she knows it isn't just there. they have to see it.

more info on billie:

people don't even know if that's their real name, though they did choose 'billie' and not 'billy', like how other people spell it.

she's seen as a bit of a toned-down cryptid because of how she acts. no one's seen her in person for a year, and any photos of her are older than that. few have seen her smiling.

the eye part of her mask is glossy from sleep deprivation, and her eyes have that same tired sheen as well. even without those, she's also got some crazy dark circles going on so anyone who even glances at her knows

has no (real) job, no friends, no nothing. the only reason they can live the lifestyle they do is because...

1. she had a habit of saving money but didn't save any for this, she just got kinda lucky

2. when she did start preparing, she stocked up a lot of food. she barely even eats it (and barely even eats at all), and

3. she's got a site set up where she anonymously does salmonid research on a blog, and other people with her interests donate money and click ads and all the other stuff that gives journalism websites cash.

lots of people think she's a freak. it started when she began to show interest in salmonid, but too many people pushed her away, so now she's holed herself up in her tiny dingy apartment and probably wont come out for a while

due to her lack of sunlight, not only does she down vitamin d supplements and drinks like crazy, but her ink color went from a bunch of bright colors to just one color: black

and on that note, her hair's getting kind of long and a bit unkempt.

...may have something wrong with her.

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon 3 #i uh. i did not mean to do all this #anyway heeeres billie yaaaay :) #behindthefics #billster

[endtown]

the amazing bear and nadine fic. chapter 1. 1,268 words.

hello all. it is kc. i was thinking earlier today about how much i miss writing the stupidest fanfic of all time without any kind of thought or planning like i did when i was 13. and i don't really involve myself in fandom spaces, so i decided.... why. not just do that for my ocs?

i'll update this post (or the next) with an actual summary when i come up with one, but i'm sort of just going with the flow for now. for the time being, i'll try to update this weekly or biweekly, and i have no idea where it will lead. so uh, feel free to leave suggestions and stuff if that's what ppl do.

anyways, enjoy!

It was normal for Bear to struggle with sleep. It was something that he usually didn’t mind, but the past few days, he had actually been resting well. So as he watched the clock on the wall, it all felt a lot more defeating than usual. Whenever he got more than one night of good sleep, there was always this small hope that maybe this meant things would just be better.

A naive thought, sure, but he couldn’t help it.

There was a typical routine that he went through when this kind of thing happened. Lay in bed for a while, hope to sleep, decide that wasn’t going to happen, and head into the little makeshift kitchen they’d set up in the library attic. There, he could listen to the radio and eat. Or read whatever book he was interested in that week. Or maybe, if he was feeling especially brave, even write in a journal. But typically, by this point, he’d given up. The goal was no longer to sleep, but instead, to pass the time before work.

After a bowl of cereal without milk, and some time spent listening to a man on the radio talk about the science of stars, Bear decided he was done waiting. It was a quick drive over to the only gas station in the town of Palmyra, leaving him 30 minutes early to open up but... Well, Bert wouldn't mind. If anything, Bert would go on some long rant about how Bear was one of the few in his generation with actual work effort, and whatever else older guys who were kind of balding liked to talk about.

(It was always something about "I wish my kids were this motivated." And Bear never said it out loud, but he wished sometimes that he wasn't.)

It was just him at this hour, Bert wouldn't show up for a few more. He had never minded opening the shop early, though. There was a sort of peace that came with the soft flicker of the lights as they turned on, the sound of a mop against the floor as he cleaned up, and the radio playing softly in the background.

Jean jacket always stays on at first, while he waits for the heat, but it's taken off and thrown over his chair behind the counter after a while. By the time the door is unlocked, he is stood in one of the aisles with a box of chips to unpack, dressed in simple jeans and a shirt. His boots were work boots, plain and simple. Only worn because they were borrowed.

It was early, meaning that aside from the occasional bell, there really wasn't much noise. At a certain point, Bear even decided to sit behind the counter for a bit with one of the books he was working through. This one, Lenny had promised, was a classic. The Outsiders. Just the right size book for a day like this one.

And while he can read through quite a bit, he certainly cannot read through the loud, obnoxious arguing that comes with a couple pushing in the doors at six, loudly insisting on including everyone in their debate. Well, everyone meant Bear, because who the fuck else was there to talk to?

(Passing cars? The only thing near the gas station was trees and the highway.)

The argument was over dinner plans, or something. He didn't care enough to try and work it all out, and instead focused on trying to finish the page he was on. But, mid thought, one half of the couple comes right up to the front desk.

"Can I get the bathroom key?"

Their hair is bright pink, matching nails and makeup. The outfit that they've got on is not only bright for a small town like this, but far nicer (and more revealing) than what Bear was used to seeing in town. It was funny, considering whoever they were with was dressed a lot closer to Bear. Except this guy's shirt had some kind of sports branding, while Bear's was basic.

And though he fumbles for a moment, that could easily be blamed on the time of day. Key is produced from under the counter, handed off, and pinky is gone. Bear doesn't have to look up to know that the guy, (a boyfriend? protective friend? general creep? he couldn't tell), had been watching the whole thing. With his partner gone, though, the stranger takes to finally looking throughout the place for something.

He comes up after a bit with some chips and a couple of energy drinks. The same brand Bear had at the beginning of his shift. The process of scanning them in is typical, reading out the total of around seven dollars to the guy, and waiting. Because the guy could just pay, and they could not deal with each other anymore. But of course not.

He pats his pockets, before groaning. "Fuck. I left Nadine with my fucking wallet." He mutters, and without saying much else, wanders off. There is another ring as the front door closes behind him, and Bear wonders for a moment if that will just be it. But the banging on the bathroom door and the yelling that follows is loud enough to be heard through the walls. So when the guy comes back in, Bear is not shocked to see how angry he seems.

"Have you got like. A fuckin'.... Extra key, or some shit? They won't answer the fucking door." And he wonders for a moment if the guy is worried about his potential ...whatever they were. But no, this is just pure anger. Bear doesn't get a second to even think before the guy is waving a hand in his face to make sure he's following along. So with a quiet nod, Bear produces the backup key. Of course.

It is an awkward walk out to the little bathroom they have set up, and Bear gives a gentle knock just to make sure he isn't going to open the door on anyone. But once again, nothing. The entire time, whatever this guy's name is, is muttering to himself about how much of a bitch Nadine was, and whatever else. It was less muttering, and more... whisper-yelling? Once again, making it hard to focus.

But Bear does get the door open. And inside? Yeah, absolutely nothing. Not even the original bathroom key had been left behind.

"THAT FUCKING BITCH STOLE MY WALLET!" Comes from behind him, making Bear jump just a bit, but it doesn't matter. It seems that interest has been entirely lost in the gas station worker, as the guy runs back to his shitty excuse for a sports car. Whatever he was doing, he was doing it without explanation and quickly. Well, as quickly as he could. There is two, three, four attempts to start the car before it goes. And then a few moments adjusting mirrors and settings before he finally drives off.

Bear is left with silence, again, as he watches the car disappear out of sight. Expression does not change, because not even an energy drink could perk him up to deal with shit like this. No, there is not a reaction from him until he hears a voice behind him.

"God. What a fuckin' loser."

And to his shock (dismay? he really didn't want to be in the middle of anything), he turns to see the pink haired stranger standing behind him, and in the middle of the tiny excuse for a bathroom.

Fuck this. He should've stayed in bed.

#the nadine and bear fic. #idk how to tag this so......................

[cypanache]

Hi! I recently read Patchwork Heart (like twice in two days) and I now have brainrot from that fic. (Which is to say that I loved it.) And I’m sad that it’s incomplete but I’m grateful that you wrote it, and all your other Parks and Rec fics. I remember reading a comment from you (from like 11 years ago lol) where you said you’d been writing for 14 years and you encouraged someone who was feeling bad about their own writing. Which gave me the motivation to keep writing, and made me think, how awesome must it be to be a fanfic writer for so long? This is a rambly comment to say that I’m glad you’re still writing (even if it’s not for Parks heh) and you’re a great inspiration!

(Also I’m aware this isn’t a question but I don’t really know how Tumblr works)

Well this ask officially made my year. (P.S. - Asks don't have to be questions. Especially when they're as lovely as this)

You know every once in a while I think, am I being totally ridiculous just leaving my live journal out there like that? Really, who's going out and reading stuff from over 11 years ago, except ... yeah I've totally done that myself. And I'm forever grateful for the authors who let their stuff just float along and exist. So I'm gratified to know that I did that for you today. And extremely gratified to know that I was able to give you a little motivation to keep writing. I have been doing this for over twenty years with varying levels of success and intensity as my life evolves, but I keep coming back to it, because really at the end of the day, fanfic is one of those hobbies that more than anything make me feel like me. When you find that, you owe it to yourself to hold onto it. Even if you can't do it perfectly or quickly.

I am not going to lie, I'm very sad Patchwork Heart is incomplete as well. That was an unfortunate product of life circumstances overwhelming me and by the time I paddled my way to the surface my emotional relationship with Parks had changed. But I am forever in love with the complete human disaster that was teenage Ben Wyatt in that fic.

Sooooo this isn't much, but this ask made me go back through my google docs. Here have part of a camping trip:

Griggs-Knope-Wyatt (Whatever) Family Vacation  

Hell – 375-369 days to go

Yeah, it’s official, Ben does not get camping.

At all.

Look he gave it a fair try.  But he just-  he doesn’t get it all right.  He doesn’t get what’s so fun about sleeping on the floor (”Ground,” Marlene informs him, “It’s called a ground when it’s outside, dear.") or getting so many mosquito bites, or having to make sure your food is put up in a certain way so raccoons won’t get to it.  And you know what he really doesn’t get?

Ghost stories.

He does not get ghost stories.  They’re not scary.  They’re particularly not scary if your dad is telling them.  And when your step-mom takes over and does manage to tell a scary one, well then you’re outside, in the dark . . . scared.

Oh and his tent collapses on him in the middle of the night.

Yup, okay.  Not.  Having.  Fun.

Ben just wishes he could convince himself that’s actually because of the camping.

Leslie’s been withdrawn and subdued for the past two days.  Not angry, just quiet.  He tried to talk to her yesterday morning like a dozen times, but the one time he got anywhere the fact he was trying to take the whole thing seriously only seemed to make it all worse.

He doesn’t know what to do for her.  Has the sneaking suspicion there’s actually nothing he can do.  Or at least nothing he’s willing to do.

So yeah, maybe he’s going to just lie here under the wreckage of what used to be his tent for a little while.

Except he can’t even seem to manage that, because the next thing he knows there’s the sound of footsteps and a flashlight is being shined into his eyes like an interrogation lamp.

“Benjamin?”

Ben holds up a hand to shield his eyes and squints up at the outline of his step-mother standing over him.  “Umm, hi?”

“Benjamin dear.  Your tent’s on the ground,” she informs him as though she’s not entirely sure he’s aware of this fact.  Sometimes he’s pretty sure his step-mother thinks he’s an idiot.      

“Yeah, so umm, funny story about that.  You know what it was, it-  it fell.”

The fact he always winds up saying stuff like that around her probably doesn’t help.

Marlene doesn’t respond for long moment, and even though he can’t see her face he can pretty much picture it.  It’s a face he’s pretty familiar with.  The one that says ‘I worry about your ability to dress yourself in the mornings’.

“I don’t-  I’ve never really camped,” he continues, unable to help himself.  Marlene’s silences are just about the most effective interrogation technique he’s ever encountered.  No wonder Leslie’s usually so talkative.

“I never would have guessed,” she shoots back, before adding, “Well, should I just leave the two of you alone or would you like some help putting it back up?”

“No- no, help would be good.”

There’s a long pause, then:  “Ben, dear.”

“Yeah?”

“You need to get out of the tent.”

“Oh.  Right.”

---

So in a surprising turn of events (at least in his opinion), Marlene actually turns out to be a pretty good teacher.  Like okay she isn’t the most patient person in the world, but she’s incredibly precise in her explanations of how to do things like tie a hitch-knot, and Ben’s always been more comfortable with precision over intuition, so it doesn’t take him too terribly long to catch on, and when she pats him lightly on the knee in approval, it feels like getting an A in your most demanding class from the teacher who scares the shit out of you.

All in all, Ben’s feeling kind of good about things by the time they get the tent back up, so when Marlene points out that it’s only an hour or so until sunrise and asks whether he wants to help her make coffee for breakfast, he says yes, thinking maybe things are looking up.  

Yeah, no, that was obviously just designed to lull him into a false sense of security.

“So,” Marlene opens without warning or preamble, “Leslie tells me I’m returning the Purdue sweatshirt.”

He barely manages not to tip over his cup of coffee. “Yeah, um, sorry about that.”

“Ben didn’t we talk about that? Um-”

“Is the sound in dumb.  Yeah I know.”

The look she gives him could level small countries.  Ben keeps his head down and tries not to have an aneurysm.

How does he get himself into these situations?  Really why is it sarcastic, smart-aleck things always come out of his mouth at exactly the wrong time.  It’s not like he’s trying to be a wise-ass.  He’s not really trying to be anything really.  (Except maybe invisible.  Invisible would be nice right now.)  But for some reason it happens anyway, and he can’t seem to stop it.  It’s like this leak, this crack in his personality.  Ninety-five percent of the time he manages to be exactly the kind of guy he should be, the kind he thinks Virginia Wyatt would have wanted him to be.  The kind of son his perpetually fragile father seems to need.  Quiet and polite and respectful.  But every once in awhile the pressure of keeping everything else in just gets to be too much and these little drops of acid seep through, landing where they’re not wanted and scarring once they’re there.

Except Marlene Griggs-Knope doesn’t scar that easily.

“Oh, sit up straight.  Really, Ben if you keep going through life acting like a spineless jellyfish, it won’t just be Leslie who treats you like one.”

“I don’t.” he mutters under his breath.

Only he says it to the picnic table so that probably undermines his whole protest.  He forces himself to sit up and look Marlene in the eye (Okay, it’s more like her forehead, but come on, cut him a little slack here.  Do you want to look Marlene in the eye?  Yeah, that’s what he thought.  Shut up.</i>)

“Leslie doesn’t-”

But he can’t make himself complete the thought, because . . . yeah, sometimes she kind of does.  And, shit, it’s Leslie’s mom, and Marlene’s giving him this look that clearly says ‘don’t bullshit me about my own daughter.’  Still, Leslie treats everyone like that, at least everyone important to her.  Ann gets, like, twenty-three instructions a day.  And, well, he likes it.  It’s been a really long time since anyone paid that much attention to anything he did.  It’s how he knows he’s important, that she cares.  If she ever stopped trying to micromanage his life, well then he’d just be another ordinary person on the outside, wouldn’t he?

He opens his mouth to try again, but Marlene waves his efforts away with a dismissive hand.  Oh good, apparently he’s now already used up whatever small amount patience she had allotted for him today, and it’s only, what?  Five-thirty in the morning?  This is probably some kind of new record for him.

Yaaaay . . .

At that moment from across the campsite, Leslie unzips her tent and steps out into the new dawn, only to freeze, eyes going wide, at the obviously unexpected sight of Ben sitting at the picnic table with her mother.

He tries to remember enough Morse code to blink her a S.O.S.

And any other morning it wouldn’t matter that he’s pretty sure he just looks like he’s having an epileptic fit, Leslie would have already come over and rescued him. 

Instead she just turns back around, grabs her towel and a bar soap out of the tent and trudges off to the shower facilities, leaving him alone with Marlene to fend for himself.

Okay, Leslie is officially really upset.

“She will get over it.”

At Marlene’s observation, Ben whips his head back around only to find himself pinned by his step-mother’s sharp assessing gaze.

It feels like all the oxygen just got sucked out of the . . . well, earth.

He opens his mouth to stammer out a disclaimer but only manages a strangled kind of gurgle, which Marlene, thankfully, ignores.

“Leslie is no stranger to disappointment.  She’s a very resilient girl.  Always has been.” She says it matter-of-factly and maybe even a little proudly, then immediately counterbalances it with a sigh of exasperation. “Realism, however, is unfortunately not your step-sister’s strong suit.  Particularly when it comes to people.”

Ben just presses his lips together and fiddles a little with his coffee cup, drumming his fingernails against the metal.  He’s not really sure why Marlene’s telling him all this.  Not that any of it is exactly revelation.  To know anything about Leslie is to know she puts too much faith in life in general and people in particular.

So no it’s not like he doesn’t realize Leslie’s been disappointed by people before—her father, Lindsay . . . And then suddenly it clicks with him, the why behind all of this.

People leave.

In Leslie’s world, people leave her.

For some reason he’s never thought about it before, about her history and the painful lessons life’s given her.  After all, he’s the one with the dead mother, the great tragedy that defined his entire fucking existence before he met her; that he wears like a poorly healed scar on his personality.  Leslie always seemed so untouched by comparison.

But she’s not.  He can see that now.

Because yeah, maybe his mother was ripped out his life.

But people walk out of hers.

By their own choice.

Of their own free will.

Ben drops his head to stare down at the film that’s started to form on his rapidly cooling coffee in shame as he realizes he’s been making plans to join them, to go off to college and then conscientiously extricate himself from her life, little by little, bit by bit, until he’s down to a subsistence diet.  To the bare-essentials of what he needs to survive.  Never once thinking about Leslie’s needs.

God, he is such an ass.

Marlene who has been silent for a little while, gets up to pour herself another cup of coffee, before coming over to sit back down and drop another bombshell on him.  “You know, sometimes I wonder if your father and I should have waited until after the two of you went to college to get married.”

Oh god. He feels a cold finger of dread crawl its way down his spine at her words, and suddenly all he can think is:  She knows.  She knows how he feels about her daughter, and he’s going to die.  Up here in all this outdoors, Marlene probably knows a dozen ways to kill him and make it look like an accident.  Maybe that’s why they’re camping in the first place.  Maybe this was her plan all along . . .

It’s about this time that the rest of what Marlene’s saying starts to sink in.  “—it’s not that we’re not happy you two get along so well.  After all, that’s the whole reason we decided to get married when we did.  Give all of us the chance to try to be a family.  But--” she purses her lips, and narrows her eyes, “Maybe we were a little too successful?”

And the terror’s back.  “Too successful?”

“Up until two days ago, all Leslie ever talked about was going to IU and being close to home.  She’s already learned the fight song.”  That makes him almost smile despite himself, because of course she has.  He bites the inside of his mouth just in time to stop it.  Marlene continues.  “And your father tells me you’ve been collecting brochures for out of state schools ever since the two of you moved to Indiana.  But suddenly here I am buying sweatshirts for Purdue.”

“I didn’t ask-”

Marlen waves his protest away.  “Of course you didn’t.”  Then in a seeming nonsequitor:  “Did you know Ann Perkins did Model UN all last year?”

-----

When I get a little more time I'll try to bullet point out for you where I was going.

#cy writes things #parks and rec #ben wyatt #leslie knope #leslie x ben #step-sibling au

[veeagainsttheday]

Tagged by @ghostalservice!

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason. <3

First fic: That Inspirational Stuff , a long Poe/Finn fic set after the Last Jedi where I tried to create the satisfying character arcs that the actual movies never would for Poe and Finn. It's funny that this is my first fic listed on Ao3 because the very first fanfic I ever wrote in my life was handwritten in a journal when I was 13, when I tried to imagine a sequel trilogy to the original SW trilogy.

Last fic: Here Comes the Bride, Ed/Stede and inspired by the S2 teaser.

Wrote once: I'm not sure how much this counts, but I wrote a Pacific Rim/OFMD crossover fic, lovers in a dangerous time, which is the only Pacific Rim fic I've ever written.

Favorite fic in biggest fandom: Not sure how to quantify biggest fandom, so I'll go with OFMD. My fav fic I've written for that is The World Beyond. I am proud of it because I wrote it as being post s1 in terms of where Ed and Stede's relationship was at while also being set in a dystopian cli-fi near future, and, now having seen the trailer and teaser, I kinda think I got the post s1 vibes right.

Fic I wish more people read: The Legend of the Gentleman and the Outlaw, by Lucius Spriggs (La Leyenda del Hidalgo y El Bandido, translated by Jim Jimenez), I just think it's neat. I tried to write it using the structure of Cloud Atlas and mostly succeeded. There's two chapters done in bird POV. And I particularly love Lucius's arc in it.

Fic I agonized over most: don't let me die with my soul in the air, my massive retelling of S1 and beyond from Ed's POV. Holee shit I agonised over this guy, especially S1E10 Ed. Rewatching his scenes in that episode was heartbreaking.

Fic that sprang fully formed: Mile High Club, I genuinely think I wrote this thing in like... two days? I had to get it out of my head via keyboard.

Fic I'm proud of: Runaway Effects, which I co-wrote with @petrichorca. It was my first ever collaboration and I think we made something really beautiful that I think about all the time.

tagging @petrichorca @elapsed-spiral @mxmollusca @emi--rose and anyone else who wants to join the fun!

[shamera]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @bbcphile 🥰🥰🥰

1. How many works do you have on AO3? site says 21! (I also have 50+ on ff.net from when I was younger, and uhhh idk how many that I shoved into my dreamwidth/livejournal never to see the light of day again.)

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 619,848

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently Mysterious Lotus Casebook! (Although I might sneak something for Love and Redemption or Scum Villain.) I am mostly a writer in the Final Fantasy XIII fandom, although I have spent years in Code Geass and Merlin fandoms. Before that, it was Fullmetal Alchemist, Naruto, Harry Potter, and Star Wars.... loads more.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Leave Me Your Starlight, Code Geass fic Nunnally-centric time-travel fix-it

Five Minutes, FFXIII fluff oneshot featuring Noel and Hope

World Enough and Time, Code Geass AU post-apocalyptic rewrite

First (and Second) Impressions, FFXIII modern babysitting AU Noel/Hope

Lost in a Moment (lost in a song), Mysterious Lotus Casebook post-canon fix-it casefic

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to! I'm, um. I'm really bad at it. In that I will attempt to respond to everyone in the first few days, but then I get distracted doing/writing something else and I am so tunnel-visioned that you won't hear from me until a week later and then I feel bad about taking so long to respond. Also I am very, very bad at responding because while I love love love seeing comments, it's just happy reactions and incoherent noises from me. How do I words to translate my appreciation???

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? ...probably everything I wrote as a kid? I have very different ideas on angst nowadays, but I guess while I was writing it... between Gedächtnisse (FMA fic) and Sound of Silence (HP fic), I guess!

Newer stuff might be between The Other (FFXIII fic) and Test Subjects (FFXIII fic).

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I write a lot of fluff pieces nowadays! But overall, probably Something About December (FFXIII fic), since it's a Christmas fic or Family (FFXIII), which was written to give Sazh more support in the third game.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Once, someone pointed out my join date on the website and asked me why I was still writing fanfiction.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have, but generally don't. Even most of my ships are closer to gen than not. I'm closer to the repulsed spectrum of ace, but I do like attempting to write all sorts of things.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Yes! Love them! I've written a good handful-- but the craziest one was when I was... 10? 11? and I wrote Orions'Ka on a notebook and when I typed it up, it was well over 60,000 words. It had absolutely everything I loved back then.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not by a person, no. By website bots, yes.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I have had... people ask me if they could translate my fics? My answer is always yes, but I don't recall seeing it anywhere.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I had an entire online journal with my best friend back in middle school.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? ...MXTX ships, maybe? I don't feel particularly strongly about ships most of the time, only about characters, who I will ship around for the fun of it. But for MXTX pairings, that just doesn't feel right. They just belong together.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? ....my old Harry Potter stuff, I'm sorry. Not a fandom I got back into again.

16. What are your writing strengths? I've been told it's characterizations! And descriptions.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Everything else. Confidence, I guess. Also energy and interest. And once I overcome those, plot.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? ...me, or fics that do that? Because I've seen fics do that, full on paragraphs of dialogue in the original language but descriptions in English, and I don't understand. But if it's just... an important word, a statement, something the fandom would normally understand kept in its original language because there's just no good translation in English for it, then it absolutely works. Some things don't translate well, and fans usually like learning more about their canons. I personally try to keep things mostly in English nowadays, though, but I slip time to time.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Star Wars. I was in the single digits age, and wrote an introspective ficlet on Luke and Leia's feelings about how the original trilogy's ending, sitting together on Endor to watch it all burn.

20. Favorite fic you've written? ...I don't know if I have one. I either tend to be proud or hate what I've written, depending on the day, my mood, wind speeds, and cats. Currently I want to say Lost in a Moment, because I finished that recently and I had so many doubts about it so I'm proud I got through it.

Tagging... omg, anyone who still follows me all the way from FFXIII days and writes, or all the way from the Gundam Wing days gosh.

but also @seventhstrife, @rhystheceo, @teekettle, @adriannasharp @tunnelofdusk 🤭 ya'll suffer through my random selection because I know you guys are writerssss

[aceofstars16]

Headaches

Okay so...I found this old fic...I might share it on AO3 at some point too? But eh, I'll share it here first. (I put it on AO3 now)

It's like...a four year old fic, and I'm pretty sure it was going to be part of a continuation story I had for Gravity Falls. But it kind of works as a one shot too? I edited it a little, but it still has some of my old writing style to it lol

Also, don't ask me what is wrong with Stan, I'm like...pretty sure it was part of my idea for the continuation, with Bill kind of coming back, buuuut...for the sake of this fic maybe it's just some residual effects of Bill going into his mind? *shrugs*

Putting it under a read more because it's eh a fic, so over a thousand words lol

“Another headache?”

Stan waved his hand. “It’s nothing, I’ve had hangovers worse than this.”

Ford couldn’t help but frown. He'd seen Stan wince more in the past week than in the entire time he’d been back on this earth.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, Poindexter. Come on, we have work to do.”

Trying to brush away the knot of worry in his chest, Ford followed his brother out onto the deck. Just a headache. Ford knew better than that, he'd brushed aside a headache once…never again. But this was Stan, it could just be a headache. Then again, it could be something more.

-----

“Maybe you should take it easy.” Ford was hesitant to speak, seeing as Stan only seemed to get more stubborn when he brought it up, but the quiet grunts of pain coming from his brother scared him more than he’d like to admit.

“I’m fine. Besides, you wanted to…what was it? Study the stars or something with this.” Stan grumbled as he hammered a bolt into Ford’s makeshift beacon.

“Study the paranormal activities in the universe, yes. But it can wait, we won’t reach the next anomaly site for a few days. And it looks like a storm might be coming, so waiting would probably be best.”

In reality, setting up the beacon earlier would be better, especially if the storm was related to any disturbances in the multiverse, but Ford had put his work before his family for too long. Never again.

Stan huffed but looked at the clouds forming and shrugged. “Doesn’t look like it'll be a big one.”

“You never know. Come on, I’ll cook us something.”

“Is that supposed to entice me?” Stan quipped, punching Ford lightly on the shoulder – or lightly for Stan.

“My cooking isn’t that bad…though it did get me kicked out of a dimension once…How about I just heat up some soup from a can?”

“Fine, but none of that mushroom stuff.”

Ford tried not to show his relief at Stan’s acceptance of taking a break, and nodded. “Deal.”

-----

The ship rocked back and forth as the storm raged on outside. Stan’s snores filled the air as Ford stared at the notes in his new journal. But his mind wasn’t on them. It was distracted by memories. Bloody eyes, hysterical laughter, regret, and fear that froze him in his tracks.

Shaking his head, Ford tried to reason with himself. It was just his anxiety acting up again, he was being paranoid. Stan just had headaches from being at sea for so long, or from working a little too much. There were so many other explanations for it.

But as he looked at his brother, fear trickled down his spine. What if it really was more than Stan was letting on?

Pulling out the map, Ford quickly deducted where they were at, before searching for the closest city.

-----

“What do you need in town again?”

“Just some extra fuses and parts in case anything breaks.” Ford said quickly, looking at the address he had managed to find on the computer – he still preferred paper to electronics when it came to finding things, but he had to admit computers were a little faster.

“Can’t you just fix them with what we already have? Half of the boat is filled with junk only you know how to use.”

“Just taking precautions.” Ford said, waving his hand, though he couldn’t help but feel a little relieved that Stan seemed to be acting more like himself. He didn’t appear to have a headache today, which was good. Though it could make this trip a little harder. Doubt crept into Ford’s mind. Maybe the headaches really were just something that would go away on their own. But the nagging worry in his chest kept Ford moving forward. He wasn’t going to gamble on this, not when it could hurt Stan.

Stan didn’t respond so Ford once again focused on finding the correct building. It was easier to spot than he thought, though he did notice the internet had it wrong. See, paper was better.

“Hey, that’s not a machine shop. Sixer, what is this?!?”

Ford had been expecting resistance, but he still let out a sigh. “As I said, it’s just a precaution. You’ve been having these headaches far too much for my liking.”

“You have got to be kidding me! I’m not going to some scam artist and paying them money for a headache that is just a headache!” Turning on his heels, Stan started marching back towards the ship, but Ford quickly bolted forward and grabbed his arm.

“Stanley. Please.”

Those two words stopped Stan in his tracks and he glanced back, meeting Ford’s eyes. An understanding passed between them, or maybe Stan just saw the worry Ford knew must have been brimming in his eyes.

“Fine.” Stan consented, but poked Ford’s chest. “But it’s a waste of time and when they say nothing is wrong you owe me some toffee peanuts and ice cream.”

Forcing a small smile on his mouth, Ford nodded. “Okay, though I doubt we’ll find toffee peanuts here.”

-----

They found toffee peanuts.

The doctor’s visit was, as Stan put it, a paranoid waste of time and money. And maybe he was right, maybe the headaches were just a result of stress, as the doctors said. But that didn’t stop the worry in Ford’s chest, in fact it almost seemed to be worse after the doctor’s analysis.

“Come on Sixer, cheer up. You can’t be right all the time.” Stan tossed an arm over Ford’s shoulder, a triumphant grin on his face.

A small smile touched the edge of Ford’s mouth. At least Stan was acting like himself, which was a good sign. Paranoia. Maybe thirty years in the multiverse had made him a little too suspicious of things.

-----

Days passed, and Stan seemed much better. Ford found his anxiety easing, if only a little. Yes, he still tried to keep an eye out to see if Stan was wincing or holding his head, but as far as he could tell, the headaches were gone.

“Just a little higher!” Ford called, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the beacon. The trip to town had added a few days to their anomaly trip, but now they were almost there.

“Always have to have it just right, hey Six-AGH!”

Ford froze as he saw Stan grab his head and fell to the deck.

“STANLEY!”

Rushing over to his brother’s side, Ford dropped to his knees. “Stanley?”

A groan was the only response and fear wrapped itself around Ford’s heart. He knew he should’ve insisted upon more testing, or medication, or something!

“Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Stan didn’t respond, but when Ford pulled him to his feet, he was standing mostly on his own, though he leaned heavily on Ford as they made their way inside.

Despite his own physical strength, Ford was panting as he helped Stan onto his bed – though maybe worry was a part of his fatigue. Plus, he wasn’t exactly thirty years old anymore.

As soon as Stan was lying down, Ford started rummaging around the cabin, looking for ibuprofen or any other pain reliever, along with ice and heat packs. All the while trying not to dwell on the fact that they were in the middle of the ocean, days away from the closest doctor.

“Sixer?”

Ford froze as Stan spoke and quickly rushed over with the few things he had found. “I’ve got you Stanley, here take these and you should-”

As he glanced up, the words stuck in his mouth. The world flipped and the air grew thin. Ford couldn’t breathe. He swore he could hear laughing, though maybe that was just a broken mind replaying sounds from all those years ago. From when he had felt blood falling from his eye, when Bill had used him. Only now it wasn’t his eye that was bleeding. It was Stan’s.

“No…no no no no.” It was the only word Ford could gasp out as memories, fears, total paranoia overtook him. Yellow eyes everywhere. Maniacal laughter. Crushing guilt. A mistake he could never fix. Screams mixed into the laughter, phantom pain raced through every inch of his body and there was no escaping it.

“And you thought you were the smart one, Fordsy.”

“Stanford Pines.”

“Fordsy Fordsy Fordsy”

“Sixer.”

“Outcast, just like us.”

Bill was everywhere, mocking him.

The voices blurred together. Ford could see them, he could feel them. Bill was in his head. Even though he couldn’t be, the metal plate kept him out. But he swore he could feel him.

“Sixer.”

A gasp turned into a sob was the only response Ford could make to the noise in his mind.

“Ford!”

Sharp pain shot through Ford’s head and he looked around, and he realized he was on the ship, staring at Stan – whose brow was creased with pain and whose eye was still bleeding – but who was gripping his shoulders, lifting him up from the ground.

“St-Stanley…”

“Ford, what…? Are you okay?”

“I…” His chest still felt tight, and Ford swore he could still hear Bill. It was only when he glanced at Stan again that he realized his brother was blurry through the tears in his eyes. And compared to Stan’s firm grip on his shoulders, he was shaking like a leaf.

“Ford, gosh darnit, TALK TO ME!”

“Bill…it…he…” Then a sob escaped his mouth. Ford hadn’t felt so broken in…well maybe it hadn’t been that long but that didn’t make it any less terrifying.

Arms wrapped around him and another sob escaped his mouth as he let himself hide in his brother’s embrace.

“That triangle is gone, Sixer. And if he comes back, I’ll punch him in his stupid eye. Got it?”

Ford couldn’t form a response, only a whimper escaped his mouth, but he managed a small nod and Stan’s arms tightened around him. He didn’t deserve such a good brother, after all he'd done, Stan was still there for him, hugging him when he was the one with a bloody eye and terrible headache.

“Got it?” Stan spoke again and Ford would’ve laughed if his mind and body weren’t so jumbled up.

“Got it.” Ford could only speak in whisper, but Stan seemed satisfied.

“Good.”

#gravity falls #stanford pines #stanley pines #ford pines #stan pines #sea grunks #gravity falls fanfiction #aceo writes things #was that my tag? I do not remember it has been a looong time #call this practice for when I hopefully finish timetrapped lol #have fun and enjoy the writings of little - not as traumatized and broken me