#might share some snippets at some point idk

[wispscribbles]

When I finish my ghoap Christmas oneshot that I started way back in start December, and have been struggling with since, then it’s over for you fools 🎅

#maybe it will be done by next Christmas lol #god no I’m scared of jinxing it #it’s not even THAT long I’ve just constantly had to step away from it and start over #and I don’t even think it’s good 😭 but I want it done #and there are bits I like that I want to share so I need to finish this bitch #y’all better be ready to find some leftover Christmas cheer when I post it #we will pretend that it isn’t several months late 😀 #they kill Santa and it’s funny and I don’t want to leave that forever in my wips #correction: they kill someone dressed as Santa but they take it very seriously #it has very much the same vibe as ‘Clue’ did and ppl enjoyed that one a lot #so I hope I’m just overly critical of myself and that this fic is actually alright #how did I write clue in one night????? where did that superpower go???? #might share some snippets at some point idk #wispy update

[magicalrocketships]

Hello hello I heard from em powerful-owl that you're you're cooking up a steamy and emotionall devastating maxiel fic with certain... elements 👀 and kinks 👀 and circumstances 👀 that I might be interested in (I've been being insane over in her asks about pillow humping, among other things lol idk if you've seen) anyway I just wanted to say I'm so excited for your fic! I want to wave my little pompoms and generally cheerlead you because I love our little f1rpf community and the,like, 2 things ive heard about this fic already have me blushing and foaming at the mouth. But. 😊😵‍💫 In a sexy way. 💖 (?? Hang on..pompoms... Maxiel au where max is a way-too-serious football player and daniel is a cheerleader and they have sex about it?? Is that anything) okbye 👍

Y E S, yes, there is a fic a-cooking which has SOME STUFF IN IT YOU MIGHT ENJOY, we can be our own little team of people going feral for a little pillow humping in a fic. In FACT, if you would like a snippet, then you can have one just now. It's basically lots of little snippets from a longer scene, so all the plot bits are gone because they'll make no sense without context, and there's just... you know. Max being a little bit raw at the edges from some plot stuff (not that there's MUCH of a plot, it's mostly 70k+ of Max figuring out who he is on and off the track, and where Daniel fits in) and being by himself in a hotel room etc etc. There's some metaphorical cheerleading by Daniel in this (no actual pom-poms were harmed) but there is a shared hoodie (and by shared, I mean, it's Max's now but it used to be Daniel's).

Max/Daniel, explicit, 2.5k.

Max drinks half a can of Red Bull, takes off his jeans, and puts on Daniel's yellow hoodie. It does not smell very much like Daniel anymore but it is nice that it is his - or was his, because it is Max's now, and Daniel is not allowed to have it back. Max tucks it over his nose for a moment as the screen loads on his TV, sitting down in the seat, controller in hand.

Then, carefully, as his game loads, he stands up and gets one of the pillows. He arranges it in the middle of the bed, lengthways. He lays down on the bed, dick pressed against the pillow, and gives his hips a little roll, just to see.

It feels nice. It always feels nice.

---

Max presses his hips forward against the pillow, holding himself there, squeezing his ass, dick chubbing up in his briefs. He likes this feeling, where his body is getting comfortable, dick getting hard. On the screen he scrolls through his saves to pick the one he wants to play, game loading. He could adjust his dick now that he's mostly hard, angle it so that it's pointing down between his legs because it's easier to rub himself off like that, but he's playing by his own rules and he doesn't want to touch. Anyway, sometimes it's nice to catch the side of his dick, rub a little to the left. It doesn't matter much. He just likes it all.

There's the first little blurt of pre-come, the wet spot in his underwear, the head catching and the material dragging as he presses his hips down. The pillow is going to get wet too, little damp patches as he gets more and more turned on and can't keep still. He deliberately does not speed up. This is his out lap. There's no benefit in going too fast. It can be a whole evening of out laps. No one's watching.

His hips move slowly, and he's up on his elbows for his game, but other than that he's lazy with it. He's not taken his socks off and his toes are pressed up the headboard. A hazy warmth spreads across his skin. He doesn't want to get too hot, otherwise he'll have to take Daniel's hoodie off, and right now he'd rather be in it.

He plays for a while, not his main play through of the game where he needs to focus, but on one he keeps for when he's not paying full attention. The whole time he's hard, rolling his hips down against the pillow. He gets so wet, even like this, even when it's lazy and there's no goal in sight and he's not even focusing all that hard. He just keeps on leaking even when he's not rushed, and right now his underwear is wet all around the tip of his dick.

His phone buzzes with a text so he pauses his game in case it is important. He rubs his dick against the pillow, a little side to side that makes him shiver as his underwear drags across his skin.

It's Daniel: what you up to maxy max???

Max swallows. His thumb hovers over the screen. He does not know what to say. He has not seen Daniel all day, and now he is-- well. He puts the controller down on the bed next to him and rubs his dick against the pillow, except this time with a little more intention. He hides his face in his hands. It feels so good. He shifts his knees so that he's at a different angle, going onto his toes so his calves are stretched out.

---

Did u show yourself a good time maxy

Max does not know what to say to that. It is a nice time. He likes it. It is just--

Maxxxxxxx are u doing it right now is that why u are ignoring me

Max chews his lip. He grinds down, hips rocking. It is not as nice as the pillow he has at home.

His phone starts to vibrate. It is Daniel calling.

Max, torn between embarrassment and a desperate need to hear Daniel's voice again, answers. Except-- it is FaceTime. Max is breathless and pink. What if Daniel is with someone, what if Daniel is not alone, what if--

Daniel is in his hotel room. "Did you come without me?" he asks, laughing, settling himself on the bed. "I told you that orgasms were a good thing, I said--" he stops. "Max. Are you doing it right now?"

"Are you by yourself?" Max asks. He's forced himself to stay still. On the screen he's pink and flushed and his face is blotchy.

"Yeah, of course. It's just me." Daniel whips the camera around to show Max the room. It's empty. "Are you jerking off?"

Max shrugs his shoulders. He is not not jerking off. It is just that maybe it does not count if Max is only fucking a pillow. It is not even fucking. It is rubbing his dick on something that feels nice. He is not even undressed.

"In my hoodie as well, I'm honoured," Daniel says. "You are though, aren't you? In my hoodie." His voice catches a bit. "Max."

"I am not touching myself," Max says finally. "I do not know if it counts. If I am not touching." He rolls his hips down, leaning forward a little so that the angle is better.

--

Max angles the phone down. The screen gets his chin, then Daniel's hoodie, then his briefs -- his one grey pair, so it is a hundred times more obvious that he has leaked in a big circle around his erection -- and him straddling the pillows.

"Can you see?" Max asks.

"I can see how hard you are," Daniel tells him. "How wet you've got. I fucking love how wet you get, babe."

Babe. "No. Can you see." Max rolls his hips forward so that his dick rubs against the pillow. His thighs are thicker when he's kneeling like this. He holds his phone in one hand and presses his fingertips into his thigh with the other. His hips rock forward; he has to squeeze his ass to stay like that.

"I can see you riding that pillow," Daniel says. His voice catches. "It's hot as fuck. Max, it's hot as fuck. I'm already hard."

--- (Daniel has come to his hotel room) ---

Max makes a face at him. "I am very glad that you are not showing your dick off to anybody you meet in the hotel, Daniel."

Daniel makes finger guns at him. "I save that only for you, baby."

"I am very honoured," Max tells him.

"You should be." Daniel hasn't touched him or kissed him or anything, but he looks a bit flushed and maybe like he wants to. Max does not reach for him. "Weren't you in the middle of something important?" He looks behind Max to the bed, and the messy covers and the pillows in the middle of it.

"I do not think it counts as important, Daniel."

Daniel makes a noise like a disgruntled hamster. It is barely a noise at all but the hamster has made its feelings known. "I think you coming is important. I also think me getting to see you come is important." He does not leave any room for Max to say anything back. "Glad we agree. Come on, chop-chop. Some of us want to wank watching other people rub one out on a pillow."

"You are very strange," Max says, but his entire body feels hot.

"That's what all the handsome boys say," Daniel agrees, patting Max on the ass.

Max flushes. "You-- you won't laugh?" There is only Daniel in the world who knows that Max is queer. That is his secret and it is nice that it is shared. But only Max knows how he likes to get off, and now he is sharing it and it is scarier than it should be. It is only an orgasm. It does not hurt anyone.

Daniel's expression softens. He reaches over and touches his fingertips to Max's wrist. "I won't laugh. Promise. I think it's really hot. That's why I ran down here doing my best impression of a tripod."

Max looks down at Daniel's dick. It is not big enough to be a tripod. He raises an eyebrow in Daniel's direction.

"Fine, fine, kick a man while he's down, tell him his dick's not worthy of being a third leg. I won't be offended." He flops down onto the chair, not seeming vaguely bothered that he's just sat on his phone and charger and hoodie. He cups his dick through his shorts. He's hard. He stretches his legs out; he's in his stupid mismatched shoes, barely laced up, and no socks.

Max climbs back onto the bed, straddling the pillows. He arranges himself so that his dick's trapped beneath him, going back between his legs, and he grinds down against the pillow, a delicious warmth trip-spilling across his skin as he gets himself comfortable. He still hasn't taken his underwear off. His hoodie obscures the view a bit. He fiddles with the cuffs.

Daniel holds his hand out. "Give it here and I'll wear it for you. It'll be like febreezing it except it's just a top-up of me and my very manly aroma."

Max pulls off his hoodie. He is getting warm in it anyway, and if Daniel leaves wearing it then Max will just go and get it back again. That hoodie is his now, regardless of who originally bought it. He is not wearing a t-shirt underneath, which is maybe why Daniel looks a bit like he's attempted to go backwards around the track as Max pulls it off then throws the hoodie at him.

---

"This how you like to do it?" Daniel asks, because he's never met a silence he didn't like to fill.

Max bites his lip. He's kneeling, fists pressed into the sheets. He does not think he could stop rocking down against the pillows now, even if Daniel asked. It gets like this, when he's almost done with the out lap, but he is not quite ready for a hot one. "I just like it," he says.

"Feels good," Daniel says, nodding. He's still cupping his dick, not jerking himself off, but looking like he wants to.

"Can I--" Max points at Daniel's dick. He tilts his chin up. "Show me?"

"As you wish," Daniel says, shuffling his shorts down over his hips. He shoves his stuff off the seat at the same time, so he's not sitting on his phone charger. His shorts and underwear are trapped around his thighs. It is very hot, seeing Daniel with his dick out. He is very handsome. Especially when he is in Max's hoodie.

Max grinds down into the pillow. His dick feels so good like this, trapped in his briefs, so, so wet. Now that Daniel is here and he is watching, everything suddenly feels more urgent, like he wants to fuck from now until he comes, no more lazily rubbing himself off.

---

Max fucks his hips forward. He blurts more pre-come into his underwear. Daniel's dick is so slick, and his hand around it lazy and wet with lube. Max chews on his lip, his mouth dry. He shoves at his underwear, pushing it down so that it is trapped beneath his balls, stretched tight and a little painful across his his thighs.

"God, I love your dick," Daniel says.

Max does not touch himself, even though he wants to. His dick drags against the pillowcase, leaving little damp marks on the cotton. "Yours is very handsome too."

"I know, baby." Daniel grins, but then his gaze goes back to Max's dick, at where he's rubbing himself off. "This is hot. This is how you come?"

"A lot of the time, yes," Max tells him. "I like it."

---

Max buries his fists in the pillows, holding himself up so he can fuck his hips forward, arousal drenching his skin. It is a good thing he has lost the hoodie because he is flushed pink and starting to sweat, skin blotchy with heat. The muscles in his thighs flex. He still dreams of riding Daniel's thigh, of rubbing himself off across Daniel's tattoos, of coming all over them. It is not-- they are not-- maybe he will still get to.

---

"You going to come for me like that?" Daniel asks. He has shoved the sleeves of the hoodie up, and Max can see the rose tattoo on his hand. Maybe when he comes on Daniel's thigh he will also get to come across Daniel's rose. Imagining that is very hot.

Max just nods, swallowing. He bites his lip again, because if he doesn't he'll make all kinds of embarrassing noises. He changes the angle a bit, whining through his teeth as the cotton catches his slit. He is going to come soon. All of that build up, multiple lazy laps as he played Playstation, is meaning that now it's flipped to a hot lap it's going to be quick. Top of the leaderboard. P1.

He's cataloguing everything he can about Daniel jerking himself off. The way way he cups his balls, switching from thumbing the underside of his head to jacking his dick; Max steals all the data he can, even as he ruts against the pillow, god, it feels so good, he likes it so much--

He is going to come, and he is going to come without even touching himself. He's going to come grinding down on his pillow with Daniel's eyes on him, with Daniel jacking off to him, because of him, in front of him. He is going to come.

Max fucks his dick into the pillow, his orgasm star-bright as he nears the edge. He can taste it on his tongue. He is not at home doing this by himself. He's with Daniel.

He comes, pulsing stripes across the pillow, head tipped back. He groans, breathless, even as he rocks his hips through the comedown, as his orgasm shivers across his skin.

He drops his ass back onto his heels, tilts his chin up. Meets Daniel's gaze defiantly. He has made a mess.

Daniel is still jacking himself off. His skin is flushed pink. He's too hot in the hoodie, Max can tell, but he's still wearing it, he's going to come in it, he's going to come in it and give it back, and Max is going to wear it and smell Daniel and he's going to get hard all over again.

"Fuck," Daniel says. "Fuck, Max. That was so hot."

"You should come, then," Max says. Then, after a beat: "You should come on me."

#my fic #fic i wish i was writing #fic I AM writing #first time in three years baby #maxiel #we're just going full on with pillow humping snippets today #nobody look at me #f1

[minthara]

i extracted files and searched for Minthara's name, some snippets (I sadly cant see who says them AND its really hard to tell one line from another) and it shows the romance is either bugged or they cut it out of the game

its all jumbled up, so theres 100 % more i cant find, but it doesnt mention her name. i did not add lines i personally encountered in game

SPOILERS

pregnancy

So, Minthara has one in the proverbial oven?

I hope we're not finished with our current labours before Minthara drops her egg. War is the perfect nursery for a child.

Minthara with child… Somehow I can't picture her sitting around the campfire, knitting baby booties…

Minthara's pregnant. A new life, a little one, sprung from all this fuckin' chaos.

companions about/to minthara (GUESSED BY ME!! IT DOESNT SAY WHO!!)

It's funny seeing you so smitten, Minthara. Didn't think you were able.

How curious - I've only ever known Minthara to moan with pleasure when somebody's losing a limb.

So, you and Minthara, is it? I suppose that little spark we shared has been snuffed out then. I don't blame you though - she is a… compelling prospect.

And you're carousing with Minthara.

Not interested in Minthara's leftovers, I'm afraid.

Any doubts about falling for a foe, Minthara? Or does that just add spice to things?

Minthara's something of a closed book, but I suspect a heart of gold lurks beneath that stern countenance.

So. You and Minthara. Wow. Impressive.

I bet Minthara is fun.

To choose Minthara over, well, anyone… It's certainly a brave decision. One might hazard to say reckless. Stupid. Fatal…

I hope you and Minthara are very happy together. Or miserable. Whatever she prefers.

Right. Well, far be it for me to stand in the way of true love. Or anything else Minthara wants, for that matter.

What about Minthara? Weren't you guys in some kind of horrific power play masquerading as romance?

Hey, so, what's romance like in the Underdark, Minthara?

And you favour Minthara, no less. I thought you valued yourself. Minthara certainly doesn't.

pc to/about minthara (GUESSED BY ME!! IT DOESNT SAY WHO!!)

Amorous passions usually make people more considerate, Minthara. Kinder. Sympathetic. Better at cooperating.

Even my people know the value of a carefully crafted coalition, Minthara. Is our own alliance not a case in point?

Who do you love, Minthara?

I'm yours, Minthara.

I've decided to pursue a relationship with Minthara. I thought you should know.

You've judged my affections wrongly - I am much closer to Minthara!

It was only sex, Minthara. Do you have to be so dramatic?

I'll do it. Just please - don't hurt Minthara.

Yes. I'm yours, Minthara.

She comes in here, into our camp, and lays hands on my Minthara?!

We'll find your family, Minthara. And slaughter them. Would you enjoy that?

You think I'm beautiful? Oh, Minthara.

narrator (GUESSED BY ME!! IT DOESNT SAY WHO!!)

You slept with the drow Minthara. You pleased her.

The guard is happy to let you pass - Minthara is rather less happy about your choice of words.

You slip into Minthara's mind while all her attention is focused on saving her own skin. You can feel her guilt everywhere, writhing and churning. All it takes is one little push…

idk

Who knows how long the real Minthara has been strapped to Orin's altar? We owe it to her to bring her back safely. She would do no less for you or I.

You're that True Soul that's been chumming around with Minthara, aren't you?

Care to share any of Minthara's weaknesses? Or would it take too long to go through them all?

And Minthara is - eh. A friend of yours, I am sure.

Distract her with thoughts of your night with Minthara.

Orin, masquerading as Minthara… That certainly explains her vociferous antipathy towards me.

And what more beautiful terror can there be than that wrought by Minthara and her love?

Why so surprised? Minthara murdered her way out of the womb.

I'm glad to know you have a softer side, Minthara. I was beginning to think you rather heartless.

Minthara Baenre. It is fair to say her intimacy is not easily won. Nevertheless, I did. Tried. (ORIN??)

My good friend Minthara is the funniest person I know.

Orin thinks Minthara's abduction is an ultimatum to kill Gortash.

status

Partnered with Minthara

Orin abducted Minthara. She told us that she'll release her if we kill Gortash.

Minthara is in Orin's clutches.

searching for "baenre"

It is true. Surface food lacks flavour. House Baenre banquets were legendary.

#bg3 spoilers #minthara #petra.txt #im gonna kms now í hope its bugged not taken out of the game #bg3 #minthara baenre

[magistralucis]

A princeling fair to see, the pearl of minstrelsy [Oltyx/Yenekh snippet]

(I started scribbling this after seeing @eleooooooo's take on necrontyr Yenekh a few days ago, holy hell that boy is fine. And such a fine boy deserved another. IDK if I'm going to make this a full thing, but it's been a long time without any content from my end... and we could all do with something sweet, always 👍)

------

On the day Kynazh Oltyx's statue was unveiled on Sedh Yenekh recognized the sweetbitter inkling of his fate.

News seldom came so fast in fringeworlds such as theirs. The young prince had recently returned from war, and the dynast Unnas in his pride had commissioned for him this statue, a copy of which was to be instilled in every world held by Ithakas. As Yenekh made his way to the central square, it seemed that over half the planet had joined him to bear witness. Patriot champion, the whole city whispered, a fine lad and a strong warrior, a true leader to his men. And since the lot of everybody on Sedh was tied to the mercy of their high command, they were very interested to know what this one promised, and were all in all pleasantly surprised.

Yenekh had never seen anything like it. Royalty for him had always been stoic. Aloof and distant, most of the time, crushingly immediate when they deigned to gaze upon Sedh. That was how Unnas was depicted, indeed all the kings of Ithakas before him, towering over the people in their bold-faced majesty. That was how Kynazh Djoseras was depicted, the elder prince who'd drawn similar crowds some years before, his slim face uncannily stern as he stared straight ahead of him. (Unlike his father he was only ever shown alone, and only as a side profile, though his judging gaze was felt by all who saw him.)

But there was no precedent for Oltyx's statue, not among royalty, nemesors or overlords. His was a full-body sculpture, unlike his father and his brother carved in friezes. It was of realistic size too; the statue was set on a high plinth, the bodily proportions slightly magnified to account for perspective, but otherwise one could almost believe it was the real kynazh standing up there. Already that was too down to earth to be the norm, but what really shocked the denizens of Sedh was the expression - for yes, Kynazh Oltyx had an expression, a genuine marker of personality. The fair prince stood with glaive in one hand, the other held palm-up as if in hail, and he was smiling.

It was not a vivid smile, nor a triumphant smile. They would have understood that, although privately, they might've thought it uncouth to show that much emotion when a stoic stare would have done just as well. No, his was a demure smile, so subtle that it seemed a sculptor's secret grace: the prince's eyes were slightly downcast, hooded as if he were sharing sweet mysteries, and the curve of his mouth rose so delicately one might think it a trick of the light. His raised arm seemed almost inviting, as if to swear oaths to a lover, or to clasp his admirers in an embrace.

It was a sight to take Yenekh's breath away. Indeed, it was the closest thing to benevolence any of them had ever seen from the heart of Antikef. It was so unusual, so unlike royalty, that as Yenekh stood there starstruck his elders began debating whether this was a serious depiction of the prince or not.

Though, well, surely it was. Like Yenekh and the other warriors of his ilk Kynazh Oltyx had come of age during wartime. This was the first time his image had been presented all over the Ithakan kemmeht, the royal court had to get it right. The dominant consensus was that the sculpture would not have been approved, neither by his older brother nor his father, if it hadn't reflected something about the prince's reality - a point which Yenekh's father considered paramount, and took great care to impress upon his son.

"After all, you are soon to present yourself at the royal court," he said, resting a warm hand on Yenekh's shoulder. "The war is over - the body politic, within and out of Antikef, must resume its role - you are the next branch of Sedh's nobility, and among our finest, and it won't be long before the future of this world rests on your shoulders. Go, see if you might seek the younger prince's favour. I daresay we'd flourish somewhat if he were to look kindly upon Sedh, even if it were he alone who did so."

Back then nothing was more important to Yenekh than the will of his father. "I will." He said, and prepared to present his home in the best light, though he didn't seriously think anything would come of it at the time. Yenekh's father had once heard the same words from his father. His father's father, too, and that father's brother all the way up the House of Aetis, and little had changed for their pains.

It was not for lack of faith in Sedh. Yenekh loved Sedh, thought the world of it even, but they were just too far away from the crownworld to merit royal attention. That was not for lack of faith in Antikef, either, the distance was not negotiable. From the royal court's perspective Sedh was not even in the provinces, they were beyond the provinces, where the kemmeht was stretched so thin that one might peer through it like a veil. The lords of Sedh were not weak - they'd defended the border for uncountable generations, they had strength, they had pride - but there were a million things they could beg of royalty, while royalty required nothing from Sedh other than its continued obedience. If its lords did not plead for grace they wouldn't see any at all.

How could Yenekh alone possibly change this state of affairs?

Yes, he supposed the young prince was wondrous fair. (Yenekh began to dream of him often from the day he laid eyes on the statue.) Perhaps he might even be kind. That wasn't a good reason to tie an entire world's hopes on one person, not that it'd stopped them doing it to Yenekh. Such is the kinship of youth, the warrior thought wryly, and he kept all this in mind until his first official engagement came around.

He was among innumerable youths from the kemmeht. All were sturdy and bright-eyed. All had favours to seek. Much to Yenekh's surprise, those were the only correct predictions he'd made about his lot. It was his first time encountering the royal court, but it wasn't at Antikef; no, it was with the Nihilakh, at Gheden's famous Lantern Festival to hail the new year. He did not blend in as thoroughly as he'd expected, though it wasn't in a bad way; for the first time in his life Yenekh was made to understand he was beautiful, though no one at Sedh had ever remarked on it. (Compared to the lords of the inner worlds he'd thought he was so plain, but his white-and-blue robes accentuated his form gracefully, his silver belt and collar shining bright.) And although he could never have hoped for a prince to look directly upon him, that was exactly what Kynazh Oltyx did on the day they met, the central square teeming with the lords of a hundred dynasties.

Yenekh knew the prince at once, at the faintest snatch of his rich warm voice. He moved carefully past the youths of Ithakas - the kynazh was turning his head, just as Yenekh reached the front of the group - as Oltyx looked upon the darkest and faintest star of his high kingdom, his brown eyes widened, and he smiled that same gentle smile Yenekh had admired upon the plinth.

"Gosh." He said. "You're pretty."

In that instant Yenekh was consumed by love's first flame, and he yielded to it as he’d never yielded before.

#warhammer 40k #wh40k #the twice dead king #oltyx #yenekh #necrons #necron #snippet #fanfiction #it made sense that oltyx would be damnatio memoriae'd after his exile #but man was it sad to read there hadn't been all that many depictions of him at antikef to begin with anyway 😭 #i wanted to imagine there had been at least one beautiful thing of him scattered around the ithakan kemmeht #so that all would bear witness to his bold and compassionate self #and i want to believe yenekh had a huge fucking crush on him even from their necrontyr days... i mean dude WAS a whole god damn prince!!! #he was swole as fuck and a war hero how could they not have revered him........ ghghhghg 😳🥴🙃

[shotmrmiller]

MILLER MILLER MILLER

I KNOW YOUR VERY BUSY BUT MY STARVED SELF NEEDS THIS OML

https://youtu.be/ZY1f7E_2iFA?feature=shared

THIS SONG RIGHT HERE GIVES ME THE ABSOLUTE CHILLS YOU HAVE NO IDEA HHHH

My heart fills with a sort if nostalgia, and my stomach fills with butterflies. It's very exhilarating! I can't help but imagine a sort of small drabble of like.. Simon realizing he's in love with you. Nah cuz I ain't no writer but uhmmmm I'm finna Write something and it's gonna be crusty but tbh idrc

Lmao this is turning out to be long even tho I'm writing it on a whim and pulling everything outta my ass-

You and Simon had a sort of tension ever since he got injured on duty about a year or so back.

Since you were the only Medic in the medbay at the time, you were the one to care for Ghosts wounds. Even though he was very cautious on the job, he managed to get himself a gunshot wound to the abdomen. He had lost quite a lot of blood, causing him to be in-and-out of consciousness.

As you swiftly work to get him a blood transfusion, you slip off his mask and pat the side of his face to try and wake him up. He groans with blurry vision and pain.

You attempt to keep him awake with questions, or making him talk.

"Sir, I need your name"

He coughs up a bit of blood, causing you to wince since it splattered a bit on your cheek.

"Ghost.."

"Alright Ghost, I need you to stay awake for me, yeah?"

"I can try, but no promises" he says with a cheeky grin, which quickly dissipates into a painful expression as you work.

"Alright big guy, I need you to turn on your side so I can see if there's an exit to the bullet"

You start pushing him to his side to assist him, and cut his shirt to find no exit of the bullet.

"Alright it's still in there, so I'm gonna need to dig a bit. I'm gonna give you something for pain" you say as you pull out a srynge of fluid, sticking him with it before he can react.

You get the necessary tools ready, and start digging carefully for the bullet. After pulling out a small silver clump of metal, you start sewing him up.

"Here's a souvenir for you"

You hand him the bullet. He chuckles a bit, but not too much.

(That's literally all I can think of as a backstory lmao ik it's lame hh)

Ever since that late night shift at the medbay, you and "Ghost", later on changed to "Simon", had become close. So close in fact, that it got to the point that even if he had a small cut or a very minor scrape, he would make a B-line to your section of the building.

You would always tease him for such things, giving him a sticker of his choice after every visit (And yes, you carry stickers around for him).

For some reason today, you hadn't seen him at all which was out of the ordinary. You found yourself waiting for him throughout the day, but he never showed up.

You mope away to your designated barracks, face saddened. After JUST getting comfortable in your bed, you hear a knock at your door.

You sigh, getting up frustrated to see who the hell it is. You swing the door open in grogginess to be met with Simon standing there with a sort of look on his face, and not a good one.

Lmao cliffhanger because it's 5am and the idea I had in my head was literally just an emotional Kissing scene in the rain when Simon has to go on a mission that he might not come back from, and you both realize you love eachother idk. (That's why I originally came here with the song lmao but I got distracted hhh sorry for wasting your time 😭) btw this was my first time attempting to write something so sorry that it's musty.

-♦️

kissing in the rain!

who cares about backstory! who cares if it's a repetitive trope! if that's what you're wanting your story to be then write it.

honored to be the recipient of your first ever little snippet.

let me give you a hug and i'm saving the song in my playlist.

[genuine-wrestleboy]

is there...a touchstarved fic coming?

IT'S COMING I PROMISE it's a little mechanophilic rn is that a turn off for anyone? idk please have a snippet i love you for waiting

“They hired me to fix you,” you add, like that might sway its decision. “We met once. I don't know if you remember.”

The animatronic stares without speaking, and you get the impression of narrowed eyes, a thoughtful frown. A flock of late-migrating birds goes by outside, calling mournfully into the brisk morning air. The animatronic perks up at the sound, then shakes itself violently and jabs a finger at the back of its head.

“Get it out.” Its voice is stone on stone, grinding and guttering, and silly though the sentiment may be, you can't help but think that it sounds painful.

“Okay,” you say amiably. At this point you wouldn't be surprised if the animatronic had some way to troubleshoot its own systems, but it seems best practice to see what's going on for yourself before you start pulling things loose.

While you get your tools, the animatronic lowers itself stiffly to its knees. You feel its eyes follow you, heavy as a human gaze, and something about it puts flushed heat up the back of your collar. There's that inchoate sense of appraisal again, like it knows something you don't and is waiting, amused, to see whether or not you figure it out.

“Alright, I'm going to touch you now.” You feel a little silly for the warning, but you figure it doesn't hurt to be polite.

Its response comes slowly, as though it has to think about it. “Very well.”

Even still, when you start exploring, it freezes, so quickly that you worry that something in the long-neglected mechanics must've finally shorted out.

“Shit, everything alright?”

“Just do it,” says the animatronic tightly, and then lets out a staticky, startled sound when you touch it again that makes you very glad it can't see your expression. It's not a moan, because you wouldn't know what to physically do with yourself if you had to deal with the implications of that, but the sounds share a border so close that they could rub off on one another, like wet paint.

It feels like every nerve in your body has migrated to your hands as you search for a seam in the matted fur. Fine, ashy grit collects in the whorls of your fingerprints, staining them a waxy grey.

“We should really get you cleaned up after this,” you say, just to say it.

The comment is met by the pinched, metallic sound of old fans scraping into agonized motion. A new rush of urgency tenses your muscles. Care and deliberation are all well and good, but you don't exactly trust the efficacy of the cooling system after all this time, and none of it will do you any good if everything's too hot to touch by the time you find your way in. Adrenaline urges you along, and you feel a surge of triumph when your searching fingers close on the hidden pull of a zipper. Age and grime stick the teeth fast together; you worry at it while trying desperately not to break it. When the fur finally peels apart, it does so with the stiff, reluctant cling of an unripe orange.

Underneath, the metal is greasy black and tacky to the touch. Thick dark liquid coagulates in a shallow divot the size of your smallest fingernail, sucks at the pad of your thumb when you move to swipe it aside. 

“Let me know if this—” you begin, then falter. If this hurts, you were going to say. Over the animatronic's shoulder, you can see its fingers claw against its thighs. You clear your throat awkwardly, suddenly too aware of your own fingers, the metal heating steadily beneath them. “—if anything feels wrong,” you finish lamely.

The animatronic grunts noncommittally. As carefully as if it were made of porcelain, you press the tip of your screwdriver experimentally under the divot's hidden lip. Slow, careful pressure—a small hatch pries stickily upwards, and excitement flares in your chest. It's tempered only a little by the smell that follows, a burst of wet, cloying rot that thrusts through your sinuses and lays itself in your mouth like a sluggy second tongue. You don't gag, but it's a near thing. 

“There we go,” you say, a little nasal, “that's not so bad, right? Oh, look at you, you're gorgeous.”

Visible now under the hatch is a snakes’ nest of wires, blue and red and black, their insulating skins shedding to reveal gleams of greening copper so expertly soldered that you can still make out every path between the joints. The patterns are alien to you, though, unlike any of the machines you've worked on before, as though whoever was responsible for this one was making it up as they went along. It's fascinating in its novelty and exhilarating in its sheer blunt competence. 

How had the creator managed it, to make an animatronic that was still capable of such complex operation after, if what your now former boss was to be believed, thirty years of inactivity? There must be redundancies built into the design to preserve functionality in case of damage, but the fact that they're still effective is astonishing. It makes you want to do something embarrassing, like lean forward and kiss it. If it weren't for the awareness of your impatiently shifting audience, you probably would.

Instead, you focus on the captivating puzzle in front of you, sorting gingerly through the wires with reverent, gloved fingers. They part readily under your touch, slick with more of that dark, acrid liquid, though by now you’re starting to get used to the smell. A rigid tension seizes the animatronic's shoulders, as though it were stopping itself from moving away. The fans in its chest whir and screech.

“Hanging in there?” you ask.

“Don't coddle me,” it bites out, and you laugh before you can stop yourself.

“Who's coddling? I just wanna make sure I'm not touching anything I shouldn't.”

As you speak, you slide a fingernail between two wires, teasing them apart with a soft shlick. Sitting beneath them, top left like a postage stamp, is a battered chip of purple plastic. Corrosion bleeds from its edges in crystalline gobs and fans out in feathery white veins, caustic mechanical mold. Where it meets metal, rubbery ribbons of sealant curl away to bare the fragile circuitry below. You let out a short, appraising breath between your teeth. 

It looks—to use a technical term—bad, but you know better than to mess with anything when you still don't know what it does. You hover a fingertip over the chip, testing for heat. You expect it—a functional heat, at least, enough to confirm that it's still doing what it's meant to, whatever that is. What you don't expect is the chill. It's like the chip is carved from ice, radiating a cold well below the air around it. The unexpected sensation gets a gasp out of you, prickling up your arms in gooseflesh that feels like nails raked lightly along your skin. 

Heat rises into your face, and sinks into your belly. Humiliation nips at its heels.

“There's a chip here,” you blurt, your own silence taking on uncomfortable weight. “D'you know what it's for?”

It's a long shot, but your aim proves true.

“Yes,” says the animatronic, sounding pleased.

#fnaf springtrap #springtrap fnaf #springtrap x reader #springtrap #ask #my fic #anon

[compacflt]

Fully support your desire to cut down on the extras as they're already so long, but as someone who was also looking forward to the sickfic section and is sad to hear it's been taken out, I will simply have to ask you about it instead! First off the discussion of home in the snippet you shared was delicious - when do you think Mav started thinking of the house as 'their' home? And Ice taking Mav to the hospital has a lot of crunch there around how they're seen and how they act in public, especially if Ice was worried and Mav was kind of out of it. Do you think Ice would have taken Mav in to the hospital if he'd really been spiking a fever and decided he needed it? How would he explain themselves? And I suppose a separate, related question: who are their official next of kin/emergency contacts?

the reason i got rid of the sickfic is cause all those questions were answered better elsewhere in the extras ❤️

i was kind of annoyed that the house inconsistently appears to be the property of whomever the plot calls for at the moment -> another reason to cut the sickfic

Yes Ice would take mav to the hospital. it happens elsewhere LOL, maverick is extremely incident-prone

obviously a fun surfing injury with friends != the sickfic’s ice taking “a friend” to the hospital in the middle of the night for dangerous levels of illness-related dehydration… implies familiarity, intimacy above everyone else… the hospital staff would probably assume they’re together, yes, & i don’t think ice would challenge that at all, especially if he had to make sure all the paperwork was filled out right. just not worth the effort. “is there anyone else we should call for mr mitchell?” / “Um no. Just me.” Yeah i took him to the hospital at 4am bc i love him and im worried about him what r u gonna do about it 🤨 violate his hipaa rights? It’s 2009 gay people exist grow up🙄 hospital staff isn’t gonna tell anyone, so who cares

(Luckily for ice in the sickfic he didn’t have to take mav to the hospital)

the point of the sickfic was to establish a precedent for one of them voluntarily taking care of the other who is unable to take care of himself, to set up the parallel of maverick taking care of Ice when he Really gets capital-s Sick. but then i still can’t bring myself to write ice actually being capital-s Sick because i have some weird neurosis where i simply dislike thinking about ice (powerful guy) being helpless or incapacitated or, um, dead. so the mav-sickfic isn’t really relevant anymore because i haven’t written (and never plan on writing, besides that one half-assed one-shot) the corollary ice-sickfic. so the sickfic became the Nixed-fic ❌

And according to this wip wednesday snippet, they are each other’s emergency contacts. don’t ask me how that works or how they figured that out, idk. some stuff you do have to talk about for logistics purposes i guess. which is kind of the point of all the house-related/money-related discussions I’ve written throughout my fics—they Have to talk about the logistics because that’s real life. But they don’t INTERPRET those logistics or assign them a normative value.

for instance debriefing presents (maverick’s) death & taxes as the only two things that ever get them to actually talk to each other lol. logistics become a vessel through which they can talk about their situation without actually talking about it. The state of being each others emergency contacts might be a death-and-taxes discussion—acknowledging permanence without acknowledging permanence

#so is wearing protection (or not) during sex! #i still have a hard time identifying the stakes in this fic that i wrote on a whim sometimes #is it just not saying i love you? or is it everything that goes along with saying i love you? #bc really the way ive written them they are baaaasically married in the 90s #which is obviously a huge criticism that i keep leveling at myself: no it does not make sense for them to buy a house!!! for instance. #would it make sense for them to be each others next of kin either? idk! #all of this predicated on me not knowing the legal ramifications of next of kinship or homeownership and because it’s fanfiction not being #interested enough to research it #i say this all the time but this is one of those areas where i know if i were older/had lived longer my writing would just be better #idk if they would be each others next of kin but OTOH idk who else they would ask to do it! #man i wish i had infinite tags i actually have so much more to say #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #asks #edts notes #need the icemav fanfic where ice & mav try to figure out their tricare benefits #thank you for the ask! #some sections just aren’t the right vibe too #like me & the sickfic just did not vibe with one another

[quill-pen]

Blessing (Married!EbenezerXReader)

Hi. I'm new here. Nice to meet you. Oooohhhhh, boy I can't believe I've done this. Can't believe I've joined Tumblr; can't believe I've written this and have an idea for a whole story to go with it. I just cannot believe any of this.

To be honest, I knew it would happen. Once I heard that song and saw the animation and found out Luke Evans was going to play Scrooge, I knew if I watched the movie, something like this was bound to happen--especially when Scrooge sings and looks like that. I mean GOOD. NIGHT. (You cannot tell me this was not a deliberate decision. These people knew exactly what they were doing.) But how could I not watch it because: A) IT'S 'A CHRISTMAS CAROL' AND I LOVE 'A CHRISTMAS CAROL'--of course I had to watch it and see how it measured up to other versions. B) LUKE FRICKING EVANS. C) LUKE FRICKING EVANS SINGING. D) SILVER FOX SCROOGE VOICED BY LUKE EVANS. SINGING.

I knew what I was getting into--I knew it was dangerous. ... And I went for it. And I tried to stop the inevitable afterward, but it's the inevitable. There's no fighting it--there's only assimilate. So I assimilated. And here we are.

So, basically, overall, just really consider this like a teaser, I guess. Because the truth is I have a whole idea for a story behind this thing and after this thing, and this was just something that popped into my head that I had to get out and share to see what people thought. And, according to AO3, I won't get my invite until the 7th and I just can't wait that long. I'm so pathetic.

Basic synopsis for the story I'm planning: Reader insert, obviously. Takes place at least 6 months after the events of 'A Christmas Carol'. Jacob Marley actually had a daughter. (He married only to have an heir, never really felt anything for his wife, took a long time to have a kid, and, when they finally do, it's a girl--so he's not involved. [Because this Marley in particular seems like that type.]) Because her family is quite harsh, the mother flees to America with her daughter, and years later, early 20-something reader-daughter returns to London with a dead mother to bury in tow, meets and befriends Scrooge, and is pulled into her mother's very hoity-toity aristocratic family and everything that comes with that life. Reader, ultimately, can't go back to America (things...), but the only way she will be allowed to stay in the care of her mother's family (and presumably get whatever she might have inherited from her mother because no way Marley left her anything) she has to marry. Cue the gallant and handsome Ebenezer Scrooge to the rescue. (He's not what the family was thinking, but Reader is also not a high priority and Scrooge does have money and is of decent enough birth, so, eh, he'll do.) Yada, yada, yada, a marriage of convenience, slow-burn, friends-to-lovers romance, domestic fluff, and drama, a little spiciness, some heartbreak, and heart-mending, etc. Isabel at some point does make a return (whether she's widowed or still married, idk right now) hence the exchange we have in this thing. Let me know what you think. I'd be very interested in knowing if anyone would be interested in reading a story like this. In the meantime, enjoy this tiny little snippet of an idea.

Oh, yeah, btw, if I do this thing, and I put this back into the story, it will be much sadder. For reasons. I won't go into it now, but you can probably guess.

Pairing: Ebenezer Scrooge x F!Reader (married)

Warnings: FEELINGS, tears, declarations of love, fear of losing someone--just feelings. Oh, also kissing after influenza in Victorian London I guess? *shrugs* Probably not the wisest decision for a few reasons. Isabel may also not be shown in the best light here because of Reader's POV, but I assure you we do not hate Isabel here. She is so sweet and lovely, and I hope she really ended up as happy as she looked in that picture.

Summary: You have been extremely sick with influenza for a time. Finally, you come 'round. When you do, you are greeted by an overjoyed and emotional husband. Some romantic and fluffy sweetness ensues.

A/N: Lots of inspiration from Poldark here. I'd be lying if I said I'm not going to take lots more inspiration from it with the actual story if/when I write it. Also did not put Prudence in this in order to strictly focus on the main relationship, but you bet your bottom dollar she's going to be in the story. I love that mastiff. One of the best things they added to the movie, even though it doesn't actually make sense for Scrooge's character to have a pet.

Oh, and first-ever reader insert. Wish me luck!

Blessing

The mist was beginning to clear, the weights that pulled you down into the darkness becoming lighter and breaking away.  You were coming fully into the light now--awakening, though you hadn’t truly been slumbering.  After an eternity of unknowing, you were becoming aware again.  Aware of the world; of the air you sucked into your aching windpipe and lungs; of the accursed dryness of your throat; of the dampness of sweat coating your body; of the weakness of your body and the heavy and hot softness that surrounded it.  It was stuffy and uncomfortable.

With a groan, you tried to open your eyes just to see exactly what made you uncomfortable.  You’d never known trying to open eyes could be so hard or make one so very tired.  Eventually, you prevailed: And when you did, you found yourself blearily gazing out into a bright, blurry world.  You groaned and squinted against the light, then slowly tried again.  After a period, things became clearer and the light became less blinding, and you were able to finally look around.

You found yourself tucked deeply into your bed, covered by several blankets along with the heavy comforter.  No wonder you were so hot.  You tried to shift the blankets a bit, but they were quite heavy, and you still felt so weak, so you simply resigned yourself to their near-suffocating embrace for the moment.  At least until you could find somebody to help you move them.  

Your eyes slowly traveled around the room, taking things in, until they finally came to rest on a familiar figure at your bedside.    

Ebenezer sat in a chair but was slumped over, half-laying on the mattress with his arms folded beneath his head.  He was sleeping--snoring ever so slightly.  He looked something of a mess; his steely hair mussed and muttonchops unkempt, his shirt collar askew, sleeves undid, and messily pushed and rolled up his arms.  You could see prominent stubble on his chin and around his lips--too prominent for it to be his typical morning shadow.  

You opened your mouth to speak, but found yourself unable to make any sound beyond a whisper of a croak.  You licked your dry lips with an even dryer tongue and tried to swallow before attempting to speak again.  A bit more of a crackle came out that time, but nothing loud enough to gain attention.  Oh, bloody hell and vexation!  Slowly, having to summon up what seemed all of your strength to do so, you slid a trembling hand across the mattress and reached out to thread shaking fingers into your husband’s hair.  You ignored the greasy sensation of it.  Ebenezer unshaven and unwashed?  Just how much time had passed?

You gently began to stroke the man’s scalp and tug his hair, all the while still trying to speak his name.  Each attempt earned you more of a sound coming from your throat.  “Ebenezer…” you rasped, fighting to keep your eyes open.  These little efforts put together were all wearing you out so quickly.  “Ebenezer….”

The man stirred, snorting softly and groaning.  Slowly he raised his head and blinked the sleep from his eyes before looking up at you.  His sleep-blurred gaze lasted for a mere second before he came fully awake, slate-blue eyes widening in alarm.  He stood up from his chair and moved to sit at the edge of the bed, leaning over to you, taking your hand that had been in his hair into one of his as he did so.  With the other hand, he reached out and touched your sweaty brow then your cheek.  “Y/N?” he murmured in some disbelief.  “Y/N, darling, you’re awake!”  His lips were pulling into an overjoyed, open-mouthed grin, his bushy, gray eyebrows crinkling his forehead as they shot toward the sky.  Turning his head slightly, but never taking his gaze off you, he called over his shoulder.  “Ida!  Ida!”

It was mere seconds before your lady’s maid was rushing through the bedroom door, looking greatly concerned.  “Yes, Mr. Scrooge?”

“Send for the Doctor!” your husband ordered, still gazing at you.  “Quick as you can!  She’s awake!”

“Right away, Sir!”  With that, Ida vanished just as quickly as she’d arrived.

Focused solely on you now, Ebenezer scooted closer to you, cupping your cheek in his hand as he gazed into your face with such relief and joy you could see a thin sheen of tears in his eyes.  He kissed the hand of yours he held.  “Oh, my darling,” he crooned softly, stroking your cheekbone with a thumb.  “Oh, my dearest, dearest darling!”  He then leaned in and planted a kiss on your brow (obviously not caring about the sweat and whatever other disgustingness covered your skin) and kept up a frenzied shower of them all over your face before finally catching up your lips.  

He immediately pulled away.  “Water!” he exclaimed.  “You’ll want water!”  He let go of your hand and pulled away only long enough to reach over to the bedside table where a pitcher and glass sat.  The man poured you a generous helping.  “Here,” he said.  “Drink.  Slowly.”  He helped you to sit up and lift the glass to your parched lips as he noticed how shaky your hands were.  Ebenezer watched carefully as you gulped the liquid down.  “That’s it, my love.  Drink.”

It seemed to take forever to finish the glass, but you were so savagely thirsty you couldn’t bear the thought of stopping until the water was gone.  When it was, you pushed the glass back to your husband.  “More please,” you croaked, the water having loosened your voice.

Ebenezer did as you wished, filling the glass and helping you hold it yet again as you drank deeply that delicious, revitalizing fluid.  There was about a quarter of a glass left when you finally felt you’d had your fill.  “Thank you,” you gasped, allowing the man to take the glass away. 

“Of course.”  Once storing the glass, your husband turned back to you again, eyes gazing deeply into yours, concern mixing with the joy that sparkled there.  Taking both of your small hands into one of his, he reached up with the other to brush the hair from your face and caress your cheek.  “How are you feeling, my dear?”  His eyes pulled from yours for a brief second to look you over, as if he’d be able to see anything that might be wrong or afflicting you.

The corners of your mouth twitched a bit, but you were simply too exhausted to smile.  “Tired,” you sighed.  “In need of a good bath.  And a bit suffocated.”  You looked pointedly at the mound of blankets atop you.  

Easily picking up the message, your husband set about clearing off everything down to the comforter.  “Better?”

“Much.”  You leaned heavily back against the pillows and gazed wearily up at the man, who was back to holding your hands and stroking your hair.  Now that he was awake and leaning over you, you could get a much better look at just how bedraggled the poor fellow was.  Not only was he unwashed and unshaven, but his face also seemed to be much more lined than usual, making him look much more like the old man he claimed himself to be.  His cheeks were more sunken in, and there were bags under his eyes and dark circles around them: He looked as if he hadn’t properly slept or eaten in weeks, never mind days!  “Ebenezer…” you trailed off, not quite sure what to ask.

But your husband knew what you were wanting to know.  He always knew.  “You’ve been ill for quite some time, my love,” he answered quietly, smoothing back some flyaways from your forehead.  

“How long?”

“Two weeks.”  He smiled thinly, pain tinging his gaze.  “You were touch and go there for a long stint.”  His lips trembled and a tear crept past his long lashes to his cheek.  He paid it no heed but blinked back against the sting of its siblings.  “My worst nightmare--I was so afraid I would lose you.  A time or two I thought I had.”

Your memory of the time he spoke of was all a blur; a blizzard of flashes of light and darkness; numbing mist and painful sharpness; muddled voices and snippets of conversation that were sometimes too soft to register and other times so loud your head had pounded.  You couldn’t decipher what had been real and what had been hallucination.  Your head had been swimming then, and as you thought back through it all, it wasn’t much better now.  You could remember one thing though.  One extremely painful thing:  “I saw her,” you whispered.

Your husband gave an inquiring look.  “You saw whom, Y/N?”

You gazed deep into his eyes as you felt an ache rise in your chest and tears prick at your eyes.  “Her,” you repeated meaningfully.  “Isabel.  I saw her.  And you…” your voice broke off.  You swallowed hard and wrenched your gaze from his, finding it too painful to look at him as you continued.  “She’d come to take you with her.  And you went.”  You took a shuddering breath, trying to control yourself.  “I wanted to die, the pain hurt so.”

Ebenezer’s gaze softened in empathy.  “Oh, darling,” he murmured.  He squeezed your hands.

You looked back at him, vision swimming and tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks.  Pulling one hand free of his grip, you wiped at them.  “She wasn’t here, was she?  Truly?” you quivered, sounding pathetically meek.  “You didn’t go with her?  She didn’t take you from me?

The man shook his head firmly.  “No,” he stated.  “No, Isabel wasn’t here.  It was just a dream.  Isabel didn’t take me.”  He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, gazing into your e/c-hued eyes with all the sincerity and adoration in the world, and added with gentle finality, “And she never, ever will.  I’m so, so, so sorry I ever made you feel you had to worry about such a thing, Dearest.  You are, without a doubt, my greatest blessing, and the absolute love and light of my life, Y/N.  I am yours and yours alone, mind, body, and soul, in this world and the next should I be granted the choice.”

Those words, that declaration of complete and utter love from the man you loved more than you thought any human being could love another human being, made your heart swell and fill your chest to the point you feared it might explode.  You were most definitely crying now as you gazed up into those beloved slate-blue eyes.  “I love you, Ebenezer Scrooge.”  The words seemed feeble, far too feeble after the eloquent, soul-deep statements your husband had just made, but there was simply nothing else you could think of to say to explain your feelings.

Despite your insecurities over them, the words seemed to be more than enough for Ebenezer, for the man smiled lovingly and returned, “And I love you, Y/N Scrooge.”  He brought up your left hand that he was holding and kissed the delicate and simple gold band on your finger before pressing your hand to his breast over his heart.  “With my entire being.”  With that, he leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss--a real, tender, lingering, devoted kiss.

You closed your eyes and melted into it.  Slithering your free hand up, you slipped it around the nape of Ebenezer’s neck and loosely tangled it into his steel-toned locks, gently tugging him deeper into the kiss.  He gratefully obliged.  It was evident you’d both missed each other’s affections.  That would have to be remedied in its entirety sometime soon, but not now.  Not just yet.  (Truly, you had no strength for such activities right now!)  Right now it was more than enough for you to know that your husband was yours: “Yours and yours alone--mind body and soul,” as he’d stated.  For to have a heart such as Ebenezer Scrooge’s for your very own--a scarred but beautiful heart that was so full of love and kindness and care and joy and passion--was truly the greatest blessing anyone could ever be given.

#ebenezer scrooge x reader #married couple #love declaration #scrooge 2022 #scrooge x you #scrooge fluff #married fluff #victorian england #probably don't kiss somebody right after they've been sick for weeks #seriously why'd they have to make him SO FINE #God help me #Youtube

[acourtofthought]

Hi! I love your blog! I came into the fandom a bit late and kinda liking Elriel (their art was cute!), but they don’t really do it for me anymore & I think Elucien and Gwynriel would have more interesting journeys. An argument I’ve been seeing a lot since Azriel’s POV chapter is that the series is about the sisters, and Azriel would never have his own book (I’m guessing because an Azriel book would kinda rule out an Elriel endgame). But then a lot of the same people go on to say Lucien and Vassa would have their own book, which then comes across as pushing Lucien into another relationship to get him out of the way… so idk.

I thought the original three (and a half?) books were about Feyre’s journey and then SJM expanded the series and decided to explore different characters with two POVs per book. I feel like this was said in an interview, but I don’t have it on hand. I enjoyed reading about Nesta; and I do think Elain is getting a much needed book, but that still leaves at least one more novel and a novella. I could see the novella being multiPOV like ACOFAS, but I would imagine the second upcoming novel would follow characters that aren’t Archerons (if not Azriel, then maybe Mor? There’s still a lot to discover with her!). Sorry for the rambling & if you addressed this before. At the end of all this, my question is: has it been stated the series is only about the sisters? Or is that born out of specific shipping preferences?

Hey there!!

I actually started off in the fandom like you did, thinking E/riel was going to be a thing but when I went back and really dived into the books I switched up my preference.

I'm not sure whether it's selective memory or whether certain people only share certain snippets of these interviews and that's when the rumors and misinformation runs wild.

I do think the sisters inspired her to realize there was more to the ACOTAR series than just what was going on with Feysand:

But we know for a fact that the spin offs were never only going to be about the sisters:

She confirmed each spin-off would follow one new pairing and as there were two sisters and three new full length books, I don't know how anyone can claim the series was only ever about them. She said there were various stories she was deciding on for the third book, one that might even take place before the events of ACOTAR. There's also an interview where she says, "and I say three but" there are so many stories she wants to tell so while we know with certainty that Elain and Nesta were always getting a book.....

...she never planned on stopping there and I think that's proven by the recent announcement that she is now contracted for an additional 4 books beyond the two she still has left in ACOTAR (some of those 4 could be additional ACOTAR ones).

Maybe the debate is more centered around who was getting the first two spin-offs? That they feel it should be the sisters because her plan since ACOMAF was to always continue on with their journeys?

To that, I do see the point they're making because if SJM originally thought the third spin-off was going to be a prequel then logic would be that Nesta and Elain got the first two books. SJM obviously drew them into the series in a major way by introducing them to their mates all the way in book 2.

But the problem with the other side is they are convinced that means Az will be getting a shared pov when what's more likely is that Elain was to have a shared pov with Lucien.

Say the third book was going to be a prequel and that meant we only had two books left in the current world of ACOTAR. In ACOWAR, who had more unresolved plotlines which would make sense for a pov in the second spin-off, Az or Lucien?

Az had open ended storylines for sure, his unrequited love for Mor and his hatred of the Illyrians.

But who was the unknown heir to the Day Court with unknown powers? A brother who wanted to reconnect with him? Who had been chased out of his home in Spring and has no real home right now? Who had recently suffered SA and abuse? Who had an unresolved mating bond? Whose father was still abusing his mother and refusing to allow him into Autumn to see her? Who befriended a female with a still unbroken curse and traveled to the continent where Koschei is? Who had traveled with Elain's father before his death, a big deal when you consider how close she was to him?

Lucien had just as much setup as Elain and I think that means SJM knew he and Elain were the book she was sure about while deciding on who was getting the third. Because again, there was a chance the third was going to have nothing to do with the current cast if it was to be set in the past. To me that means she was planning on wrapping up Lucien's storyline in the second, along with Elain's. I find it impossible to believe that he's played a starring role since book 1, had trauma after trauma thrown his way, was shocked at finding out he had a mate after believing he had already lost her (a MMC storyline for sure when you consider Rowan), only for her to just forget about him in favor of E/riel being the second book.

I think, in trying to prove their ship is happening, some pick and choose specific lines from her interviews that support their narrative. We all do this in our interpretation of them to some degree but the problem comes when people manipulate the interviews, sharing single lines while cropping the rest and passing that around the fandom as the whole story. Or paraphrasing her actual words in a way that twists them in their favor rather than supplying the actual interview.

#elucien #pro elucien #antie/riel #anti e/riel #acotar series

[greenhappyseed]

We know Dabi has been stopped but Toya's heart has yet to be saved. Outside the Toga theory of her helping the Todorokis, what will the family be able to do? because Shoto has passed out and he seems to be the only one who could reach his heart.

I also have a question regarding how Toya is even alive and how badly burnt is Endeavor? he seems like he has third-degree burns

Let’s start with your second question, because that’s an easier answer. Toya is alive because Horikoshi wants him to be. Toya burned to a crisp before and survived (albeit it took 3 years in a coma and some AFO/Ujiko intervention). Also, a walking, talking skeleton isn’t the most outrageous thing we’ve seen in a manga where the dead can be completely reanimated and quirks can bend the laws of thermonuclear physics. Enji is badly burned, but he had massive burns after the Hood fight and the PLF war too. His current burns seem worse but I imagine he will heal fine, just as he has done before. Pretty sure Enji wont regrow an arm though. Toya probably won’t either, but he might depending on if & how fast he can heal (he’s already got an eyeball open).

As for what the family can do, there are lots of ways this could go. While Shoto understands his brother best, he’s not the ONLY one who can reach Toya’s heart. This is all guessing and tossing out ideas — I’m clearly not in Horikoshi’s head — so here are some possibilities (certainly not the ONLY possibilities):

AFO gets past All Might and everyone will have to converge at UA with AFO, Shigaraki, and Izuku. If it’s an all hands on deck scramble, I can see Enji asking Toya to help, and Rei telling Toya this is what he always wanted (like how Inko apologized to Izuku). Then all those robots can zoom to UA.

Natsuo said, “All that awaits us is pure hell,” and he’s right it won’t be easy, but if Rei and Fuyumi go to Toya’s side and show him they love him and are glad he’s alive, I can see Natsuo coming around. (Maybe Enji even thanks Rei for icing his fireball so Toya could live.) I think Natsuo giving Toya positive attention would mean a lot to Toya.

Or maybe Natsuo, with his medical knowledge, revives Shoto? This seems straightforward but idk because so many of the 1A kids are out of commission (see last bullet point below).

Based on 391 leaks, Hawks is standing in response to hearing the Sad Man’s Parade decimate the heroes on the ground. He knows he’s the root cause, and he knows he owes an apology to Himiko and Toya. It could be Hawks and Toya that help Toga and not the other way around.

Or maybe Hawks just goes to see if his surrogate father Enji is alive and ends up butting into the Todofam business.

We know a vestige battle is coming — Shoto, Bakugo, Tokoyami, Iida, and Mina are down. So is Machia. Toya and Enji are badly injured. But they all have a chance to show each other their past (from their POV) in the vestige world, like how Yoichi showed Izuku snippets of his past with AFO. When AFO is on the ropes he may think he’s better off in the vestige world that he (mostly) controls, but what he actually does is accidentally give everyone a chance to understand each other. This is basically an expanded variant of the “Izuku and Tomura share memories because Horikoshi loves Akira” theory.

#bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha 390 #mha 390 #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #toya todoroki #Dabi #todofam #Rei todoroki #bnha 391 #mha 391 #hawks #keigo takami

[waterfallofspace]

HI!! same anon who asked about vnc here. i feel like your answer is enough of a go-ahead for me to be a bit more unhinged so first of all PLEASE SHARE YOUR VNC THOUGHTS. at some point. you must be the change you want to see in the world and whatnot. ive been on a skk kick but my bimonthly vnc rewatch is my sanitys single saving grace. vanitas is such a pathetic worm and he deserved to get stomped painfully into the ground /aff

also just letting you know that a second season is unlikely bc the anime adapted 55 out of 61 chapter (WHICH ON THE BRIGHT SIDE easy to catch up!!! :"D) the only time ive seen an anime get THAT close is with... bsd. which. well. sure was something. but i doubt theyd go that route with vnc

i have... alot of opinions on the ships. but its ALOT. however i will disclose that vanoe <3 SO JUST KNOW THAT IF YOU DO POST ANYTHING VNC/VANOE RELATED.... there will be at least one person (ME!!) screaming about it FHDJDJSJ

Oh it's completely a go-ahead, I'd love the chance to be deranged about them!!! Gonna stick it under a cut because it's gonna be long ahahaha~ (possible V/anitas no Carte spoilers under cut, so be warned!)

Augh I know, I mean look at this man!!!! He deserves to be wrecked in the most gorgeously affectionate painful whumpening <3 I want to bite him (and we know he'd like it LMAO)

I adore skk and satosugu, but Vanoe will always have such a sweet place in my heart~ gah tragic beloveds (that are at times, not tragic) are my bread and butter.

Yeahhhh, I did hear about thatttt, but I'm still hopeful that after... idk... 5-6 years... we might get more.... I just!!! They can't end it like that!!!! I mean it's an ending I can live with, but god I crave so much more!!!!

Omg if you ever wanna discuss the opinions I'd be so happy to listen!!! I have some opinions about dif ships in there too (Olivier and Roland are In Love and you cannot convince me otherwise).

So I adore Vanitas like I mentioned, but um... Olivier also owns my heart. We don't get enough of him I love him- the way he gets a headache every time Roland is there???? ICONIC OF HIM <333

He's just... he's so gorgeous. He has the aethetics that I adore, and a personality I find intriguing and fun~ Gahhh now I need to rewatch again hahahaha~

(also love Roland but in the same way I love Noe, just lil sweethearts <3 also also Chloé and Jean-Jacques <3 are so precious <3 to me and each other <3 )

Aaaand a little snippet as a 'thank you' and 'congrats' for making it to the end of this way-too-long response, here's a lil taste of what I had headcanoned for Vanoe

Vanitas: Soft, little rapid ones, 'iHh'tchiew! hiH'tchhue!' and he is so. mad about it. Will often try to stifle so no one hears them, orrrr add a yell/growl to try and unsuccessfully make them sound more 'fitting'. Truth is, they fit him better than he'd ever admit~

Noe: Harsh and (fairly) Loud, and it surprises literally everyone, Vanitas most of all (despite hearing it however many times now). Think something like, 'hHRZShh'ieh! ah'yieASHhuh!' You'd think someone this soft-spoken and sweet would have a dainty little sound, but nope~

#waterfallasks #waterfall snzcanons #should be tagging this 'waterfall talks too much' LMAO #can you tell ive been holding thoughts about this in my head for months bc its been MONTHS #genuinely im so happy to talk about them any time like i love them!!!! #im also sorry for how long this was ToT and for the recent spam of ask answering #but god non i love you for asking about them im so!!!!! about them!!!! #i do have more in my lil hc document and i may actually get around to sharing it/writing for them sometime soon #gotta finish a few other projects first (im SOOOO behind on requests im so sorry djsakgl) #and got a lil birthday thing to finish too~ but these are my beloveds and you know what i might need to hc for R and O now too

[birlwrites]

🎢, 🍦,💖,🤗,😬, 💔, 🤲?

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

oh, definitely career goals: tyrant - it's unhinged from chapter 1 and only gets more so

🍦 What’s the sweetest fic you’ve created so far?

i was torn so i picked 2 afslghjksdf - the first one is sun and shadow, aka the pjo au, and the second is the point of creation, which is a check please fic with lardo/ransom in which lardo is a composer and ransom is a poet and they make art for each other and it's very soft

💖 What made you start writing?

hmm i don't think there was ever a set Moment - i've always been coming up with stories, and i'm p sure my parents have some picture books/graphic novels/comics/idk what to call them drawn by yours truly at age <5. i started actually like, typing stories in a word processor in about 4th grade because my best friend was writing a story and i wanted to copy her

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

3 things: first of all, try not to jump straight into posting your stuff somewhere like ao3. get a feel for what you like writing and what makes you happy before you start introducing things like 'how many people kudosed my fic today' - there is SO MUCH fic out there, and it can be very hard to build an audience/find your people, especially when you're just starting out. there's no reason to demoralize yourself right away. build up your sense of what YOU like before you start worrying about whether other people like it. (sharing your writing with your friends is different - they're your friends, not faceless internet people ashfkjhsf)

second of all, it's important to make sure that you're actually enjoying the process. writing fanfic should be fun - if it feels like a chore or an obligation, it might be time to step back and see if you've accidentally turned it into a job instead of something you do solely because you enjoy it

third of all, writing a complete fic beginning to end is a skill in and of itself. don't expect yourself to just sit down and bang out a multichap fic with flawless pacing and an amazing ending. that's something that requires practice. the best way to practice is to finish what you start. you don't have to finish absolutely everything - as i said, this should be fun - but just be aware that if you want to complete your fics in a satisfying way, you need to practice writing complete stories. one-shots are a great way to start!

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

ohhhh man

honestly, the entire concept makes me wince, but tbh probably lachrimae. i feel like that's the one most likely to inspire the 'why aren't you writing original stories, you should be writing original stories' reaction

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

i have a few, all regulus angst - we've got implode--, survived by, and happy birthday, which i wrote when i was ~15 and, if i do say so myself, KILLED IT.

implode-- is about sirius rescuing a mostly-dead regulus from the cave, survived by is about sirius finding death eater regulus after evan's death (there's a theme LMAO - that's a fic i wouldn't be able to write these days, i'm too attached to evan now), and happy birthday is canon-compliant snapshots of regulus's life from age 11 to age 18

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

ABSOLUTELY. HERE'S LACHRIMAE

-

Voldemort says, "Do you consider yourself a fighter, Regulus?"

It could pass for conversational—silk floating on water. He hisses the tiniest bit on Regulus, a tiny whistle of air after precisely pronounced syllables like an ice cube against the back of Regulus's neck. Regulus's mask gleams at his side, awkward and useless in his hand—he can't put it on, but he can't put it away, and so there it stays, a glimmering ghost in the sun.

What sort of answer does Voldemort want? He doesn't want Regulus to fight, he wants to keep his Seer safe, but there has to be a reason he's asking, a reason he called Regulus in the first place.

Regulus doesn't consider himself a fighter. He's... flexible. He bends, goes around instead of through. Fire and brimstone have always been more Bellatrix's thing, and Voldemort must know that.

"You," Voldemort says, "have a habit of responding to my questions with silence."

Great.

-

send me fic writer emoji asks!

#ask games #should i make an inbox tag #this post is a little long sorry lol

[hella1975]

wait hold on a ursa takes both zuko and azula away fic??? idk how anyone hasn’t done this concept but hella you’ve tapped into a concept that has to be explored at this point! making it zukka is also just the norm around here too.

ah im glad you like the sound of it! i refuse to believe im the first to think of that idea bc i dont think ive ever had an original thought but there's definitely a lack of ursa exploration in the fandom. the thing with this wip is that it's going to be so ginormous and so multi-faceted that it's actually really hard to explain the plot of? like ursa takes zuko and azula with her but ursa is so damaged by what she's been through and is too busy prioritising survival to be loving anymore and their life on the run is so brutal that zuko and azula - still only 9 and 11 years old which is a big reason of why their relationship is able to heal, bc they're still so young - really lean on each other to cope. initially it's a survival thing, but they grow to just genuinely get on well with and care deeply about each other. and one way they do that is that zuko starts telling azula stories! like the two of them become huge avatar nerds bc of these stories and actually i might just give you a snippet bc this is rlly hard to explain LMAO

Neither of them had any idea how to just be nice to each other, but Zuko wanted to be nice. He wanted Azula to be safe. He wanted to protect her. She was his little sister. She always had been, and she needed him. Now, more than ever. 

“You know, Mother used to tell me about our great-grandfather.” Zuko said quietly into the shadows, a whisper to ensure Ursa, always so quick to anger these days, didn’t wake up. “You know he was Avatar Roku?” 

For a while, it was painfully silent, to the point Zuko was certain Azula wouldn't respond. Then; “Of course I know. Some of us actually paid attention in our lessons.” Azula sniped, but she sounded a little too cutting, in a way she only sounded when she was unsure. She didn’t like it when she didn’t know what Zuko was leading to. 

Zuko turned to face her direction, the cheap blanket scratching his chin and not covering all of his body. At eleven-years-old, Zuko was finally starting to grow into himself.  

They were in a town on the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom, barely a speck on the map, and currently, their names were Riku and Aoi. Ursa has been very clear; her children were to never use their birthnames, no matter how alone they thought they were. They were living in a cottage with half a roof, their mother funding the rent by sewing patches onto dresses for a seamstress. She was barely in the house, but Zuko knew even when they left in a few day’s time – as they never stayed in one place longer than a week or two – he would still barely see Ursa. He wondered if she knew how reclusive she’d become. 

“She told me stories about all the Avatars. I always wished she’d tell you them too.” Zuko said a little sadly. “I never understood why she didn’t.” 

This silence was different, and they both knew Zuko wasn’t just talking about the stories. 

“Tell me.” Azula breathed, so quiet Zuko almost missed it. 

“The stories?” Zuko asked in surprise. He had been waiting for Azula to cut him down, to tell him to go away like she used to. But...  

He realised maybe Azula wanted to be nice too. Maybe she was tired of being looked at like a monster by the people supposed to love her.  

Maybe she was just a nine-year-old girl who needed a bedtime story every now and then. 

“Yes, Zuko.” Azula hissed, and his name was so shocking it was like a curse. “The stories. Tell me about the Avatars.” 

So, Zuko did. 

“Water, earth, fire, air.” Zuko whispered, remembering how Mother told it. In the shadows, Azula’s eyes burned gold. “Long ago, the four nations lived together, but everything changed when the Fire Nation, the superior nation, began to share its wealth. The Hundred Year War began, and the only person able to stand in the Fire Nation’s way was the Avatar, master of all four elements. But when the world called for him, he fled...” 

It became a tradition, after that. Zuko would lie beside his sister on the nights neither of them could sleep, and after an entire day of hiding himself, he’d turn to Azula and just talk. In Kyoshi Island, he told her of Avatar Kyoshi murdering Chin the Great. In Makapu village, he told her of Avatar Roku – Great-Grandfather Roku – battling a volcano. And in the Western Air Temple, he told her of the Avatar who never was. 

“He’s out there somewhere, though.” Zuko uttered wondrously. “One-hundred-and-twelve, the last airbender. Can you imagine it?” 

“You’re in your head too much.” Azula sighed. She always pretended not to care, but as the months dragged on, she allowed herself more. First, it was in her asking for a specific story. Then sometimes, she’d slip up and laugh. In the fragments of these nights handed over to ancient legends, as scraps of lies left behind in their wake with every new roof they found themselves beneath, Azula was more herself than ever. She could be, in front of her big brother. That was something she learned. 

They learned other things, too. They learned that the Earth Kingdom was starving, that the Fire Nation was hated, that people weren’t rebelling; they were suffering. The story changed. When Zuko saw technological advancements that bewildered him in the Northern Air Temple, he stopped saying that the Fire Nation was the superior nation. When he saw children with burn scars and amputated limbs, he changed ‘began to share its wealth’ to ‘attacked.’ When the stories he told his little sister of the Avatar turned into a lifeline, a speck of hope in a world of ashes, ‘fled’ became ‘vanished.’

Zuko learned that a war was a war, that his father was not a hero by any means, that they got out just in time. 

And it was hard, but the two had their own rebellions. Zuko and Azula didn’t get on in Caldera, but out here with a string of fake identities behind them and a death sentence at the end of it, they only had each other. Their mother was a wound, their father was a blade, and they were, through it all, still just kids. They leaned on each other in the places they used to bruise. Azula took the softness she tortured her brother over and began to protect it. Zuko took the coldness in his sister he used to despise and chased it away. When Azula drew the curtains and hid in cupboards to hold a flame in her palm and just breathe, Zuko made sure Ursa didn’t catch her. When Zuko lay beside Azula and talked to her until she finally fell asleep, Azula didn't push him away. 

Azula, he whispered, and it was a promise that she could still be who she wanted to be. 

Zuko, she breathed back, and it was a recognition that, through it all, she still saw him. 

#the relevance of these avatar stories is that azula has heard them since she was nine years old #like it's a real theme in the fic that azula adapts to their life on the run a LOT easier than zuko and it's because she's #just the right side of too young when they run away that she forgets a lot of what life was like in the fire nation #her personality IS this new life whereas zuko still remembers a lot of their old life and is very haunted by it all #and hates all the lies and having to deny who he really is #and one thing azula builds her personality around - bc of her age - is the avatar thanks to these stories #she seriously hero-worships the avatar which is relevant bc two years after they ran away #zuko gets caught by soldiers and brought back to ozai... when he is thirteen... same age he was in the canon agni kai.... #and ozai burns him same as canon to try get info bc ozai has a VENDETTA against ursa now and is determined to drag them all back #but zuko is actually really clever and LIES and says he has something better for ozai: he knows where the avatar is #so ozai sends zuko off at 13 to bring him the avatar! same as canon! and he sends iroh bc iroh has been clever and stayed ozai's ally #this whole time while working quietly with the white lotus to try and get ursa and the kids back #so ozai trusts him and sends him with zuko to spy on him effectively #so their three years together looking for the avatar is basically the exact same as in canon down to iroh trying to get through to zuko #AND MEANWHILE azula wants to find zuko but she doesnt know how until she hears that the avatar is back #her hero is alive and out there and if anyone can find her brother it'll be the avatar #so she joins the gaang! and zuko follows them and azula leaves him little clues and zuko puts off capturing aang bc he needs to get azula! #but they dont acc all unite until ba sing se and how do they do that? bc zuko starts blue spiriting and he meets sokka #so yeah. it's complicated. there's also a revolution in ba sing se that zukka started SKJHGKSJH it's all a mess #but we get protective big brother zuko and badass sokka and azula mummy issues exploration it's all so fun #ask #also i dont like the writing of this extract bc i wrote it literal YEARS ago like i started this wip before i did my fucking a-levels #so if the writing seems shitty that's my business

[rollercoasterwords]

oh!!!! happy 100k words wfrau!!!!!!! she's getting bigger (<- like you would speak of a puppy). how long is it supposed to be & how far along are you? and also... would you like to share a snippet you like (from any chapter ofc... no pressure if no it's completely understandable)? what do you enjoy the most about writing it? bc it seems like you're having fun & it's so nice to see someone enjoying a hobby so openly online... especially writing... there's this conception that writers don't actually enjoy writing (the whole 'forcing myself to write' bit) and i'm curious to hear your perspective on it!! also!!!!!! i hope moving will be easy & fun & the world will be kind to you with the change <3 i keep telling myself 2 read marx but i can't find any good translations to my native language and reading it in english is making my brain go grgrgrgrgr like an air conditioner on its last leg so alas it might have to wait... so true for liking iced drinks they're really the best!! i've heard someone say it's childish but i think they just live a very miserable hot life in the august heat drinking their hot coffee instead of putting some ice cubes in it :) it's funny you say that about fav line because it's definitely my fav fic of your writing & the ending of it is soooo beautiful i get back to it every time i need to feel something!!!!! that song line is beautiful too omg... and well the weather is hell everywhere at least the world is all suffering together :( i hope the atmosphere isn't suffering too much :/ honestly i am a big 'i would rather be hot than cold' believer because i am from a hot country so i know how to deal with the heat but you know what i'm sure the chill can also be intriguing to some... not me though... i hope the winter will be kind on you <3 thank u for letting me invade ur ask box i am creating myself a room here for now i think. anyway. love and hugs!!!! <333

hello!! she is indeed getting bigger <3 if i had to guess right now i'd say i'm maybe...possibly nearing the halfway point of the fic, plotwise? but honestly it's really hard to say lol. i've got 2 more story arcs to cover in part 3 (plus finishing the current one), and then part 4 is gonna have like...2 or 3 story arcs as well, plus an epilogue. so it just depends on how long it takes me to cover all that ground!

and yeah i'm having a lot of fun writing!! i know what u mean abt the whole "ugh writing amirite" bit that writers do lol and i'm sure i do it sometimes too...i mean i think tone varies a lot and many people who complain about writing still really enjoy the activity, but i do think there is sometimes this self-flagellating tendency amongst some writers to act like writing is meant to be this strenuous, emotionally draining activity like ur...idk sisyphus w the stone or something, and if you're writing something 'easy' or 'fun' you're somehow a lower caliber of writer than those who Nobly Suffer for their art, etc...which i think is dumb lol. suffering doesn't inherently make art any better or more noble

& thank u 4 the well-wishes w moving!! i'm mostly nervous about getting to my flight on time lol i have to go into work the literal day before i leave and then catch a train across the country at 5am the next morning 2 get 2 the airport...not going 2 be fun so i'll take all the well-wishes i can get !!

sorry 2 hear u can't find marx in ur native language :( it's hard enough 4 me 2 understand reading in my first language i cannot imagine trying 2 parse it in a second language...maybe it might be easier 2 find one of his (or engels') shorter texts 2 read? capital is a monster but i started off with a few shorter pieces ('socialism: utopian and scientific', 'principles of communism', 'wage labour and capital,' 'value price and profit') which i found helpful! also there are lots of secondary resources of other people breaking down + explaining marx's work; maybe there's a good source in your native language that could give a summary/overview of capital? there's no one right way 2 learn, it's just abt finding what works best for u!!

iced drink supremacy 4ever truly <3 me myself & i we can only enjoy a hot beverage if it's very cold outside...otherwise i am simply thinking well why would i do that 2 myself... & thank u!! happy 2 hear u like the lines!! v happy w them v proud <3 & also appreciate the well-wishes re: weather i cannot relate 2 the hot-weather preference i much prefer cold...or at least i used to i grew up in a relatively cold climate but then i moved south 4 university so at this point i'm going on 6 years of living in what is categorized as a "humid subtropical climate" & i think my winter tolerance has been all but destroyed it hardly ever drops below freezing...but hot&humid weather is still my least favorite i think i would prefer icy-cold winter + mild summer but i will be actually putting that theory 2 the test this year so!! who knows maybe my hubris will be my downfall...

& of course!! u are welcome 2 stop by + chat anytime...in my heart we are drinking iced beverages 2gether <3 also as requested here is a snippet from ch 14:

“Don’t,” he tells her, firmly, “Don’t say that. I don’t—want you involved. If they ever did anything to hurt you…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” She stares at him, eyes ablaze. “And how do you think I feel? Knowing that they only pick on you because—” her voice falters, cracking, “Because you’re with me?” Her lip is trembling again, tears threatening to spill over from her eyes. Sirius shakes his head, helplessly, at a loss for what to do.

#snippet is a bit spoilery i think...might be able 2 piece 2gether some of what's gonna happen based on it #but also might just be confusing lol #hard 2 post anything from ch 14 without giving some stuff away tho so!! out-of-context possibly-spoilers it is... #ask #wfrau

[capybaraonabicycle]

Dragon's teeth🦷 and fire🔥

Thank you so much!! I will send you one, too, if that's alright <3

Still gonna talk about the cat fic because that's on my mind like every day right now.

Teeth: share a snippet that was difficult for you to nail down/required a lot of revisions.

Since I have not really done any proper editing yet, I can give you something I am not happy with yet? I might completely cut it from the work, actually, but it has changed already and probably will again. The main points are

I need to do a lot more research on dyspraxia because I want River to be a little supportive at least and not completely out of her depths like I am feeling

I should maybe not have Ryan talk about Yaz's love life behind her back? I know he's bound to be curious but I think he'd let her have her privacy and try not to get involved unless she asks him to. Idk I might keep it but make River bring her up instead? But like, I also don't think River would talk about Yaz to him behind her back and it could very quickly come off as objectifying - which she definitely isn't above but not with someone like Yaz who she genuinely cares about and who does not know her very well. Teasingly to her face? Maybe. But not behind her back.

"Mate, I'm just not sure I should be shooting a weapon" Ryan admitted. "Not that I don't want to, but - real life isn't GTA and I have not had proper weapons training - not like you or Yaz. And if you're actually going to shoot these aliens - I am not sure I can do that." There was a small pause, then River said: "The Doctor would be proud of you." "Yeah" Ryan said and Yaz could tell her was uncomfortable with the subject but secretly pleased. "Whatever." "I'll just fetch you some defensive weapons then" River decided. "To be safe. And you can be the one to apply the memory stick while Yaz and I distract them." "That means creeping around their station unseen" Ryan figured. "There were a bunch of ledges and ladders there." "I know" River's voice was more gentle than Yaz had heard it before. "But you can do this. You'll take it slow and if you stumble, you get up again. We'll give you plenty of time. Yaz is good in a fight, I can tell." "Thanks" Ryan said. He didn't sound completely convinced, but a tad reassured. For a while they were silent, the only sound their rummaging around, then he asked something that made Yaz's heart stop. "Do you fancy her? Yaz?" "Obviously" River answered. "I have not been subtle, darling." "Sorry if I originally assumed your taste in romantic partners was strange, being married to the Doctor and all" he deadpanned and she laughed loudly. "Be careful, kid, don't disrespect your dad." Ryan spluttered. "I don't think of the Doctor as my dad!" he insisted. "Oh, you do!" River said and Yaz had to bite her hand to muffle her snickering. "I've seen you two together. It's adorable!" "Whatever" Ryan huffed. "Why are you asking about Yaz?" River asked. "Want to give me the shovel talk? You should remember that you're talking to the most dangerous assassin of the 52nd century. I don't think you could threaten me if you tried." "I could hide the whiskey?" he offered. "And I was wrong" River claimed good-naturedly. "See? I know all your weaknesses" Ryan said. "No, but seriously, I'm not giving any shovel talks. I know that Yaz can look out for herself. I guess I was just curious, her being my best friend and all. Don't want her to get hurt. But like, she can make her own decisions, of course. I'm merely ready to hold you still so she can punch you when push comes to shove." "Noted" River said. "You're a good friend to her." "I try."

Mmmhya, Idk. I think there is ample reason for Yaz to eavesdrop on them and I like the opportunity to show them together a little. I like to think that they would be best friends immediately, seeing as how they spent so much time together when River was a cat. So to generally HAVE this scene is a good idea imo. But I'm really unsure about the execution.

Fire: share a snippet with some dialogue you’d like to show off.

To be fair, I am not entirely sure, Yaz would say 'no biggie'. So I might have to look for an alternative there. But I had so much fun writing that bit of dialogue:

"Great" Yaz muttered. "The Doctor's wife has kissed me. No biggie." "And she would do it again if you asked her to" River winked, pushing herself off the clothing rack and past Yaz, closer than would have been necessary. "Come on, darling, let's go save our wife, then!" "She isn't my wife" Yaz called, hurrying after her. River threw a glance over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling. "-yet." "Stop it" Yaz huffed. This was all giving her way more hope than was good for her. "Hah" River tipped her head back again, grinning at the ceiling. "Make me!" Yaz shook her head to herself. "And here I thought you were insufferable as a cat." "Oh, honey, you haven't seen the half of it yet!"

Just to clarify : Yaz loves Siren very much. The 'insufferable' refers to her aggressively shipping thasmin. Also, they haven't actually kissed. I mean, not like that. Really, for a shipping fic there have been precious few kisses so far. (but loads of platonic handholding and platonic (?) cuddling ❤️)

Hope you liked the snippets! Despite one of them being - let's say unfinished. But I am kinda thriving, having sent the Doctor away and giving Yaz and Ryan some time to get to know River before seeing them together. I think that was a good decision, for me personally mostly :)

#thank you so much for the ask!! #marvellouspinecone #Ryan x River is a great platonic ship and you can't convince me otherwise #I have actually written for them before once #They both immediately think the other is so cool <3 #At least that's what's happening in my mind #Plus River sees Ryan interacting with the Doctor and goes 'note to self: we've got a son now' #I'm still not that happy with the low ratio of Graham in this fic #I fear Graham fans will be disappointed 😕 #But there's 5 main characters AND a TARDIS (who's also so much in the background I am so sorry TARDIS my love) it's hard to juggle