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thelittlebirdwriter · 2 years

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Walk Through Fire For You

Frank Castle x Reader

Requested: No

AN: This might be entirely ooc, but I had a sudden bout of inspiration because I simp for this man very much ok canon? what's canon? no only frank castle.

Note: Reader was born and raised in Italy, translations will be at the end of the fic. Reader is Bruce and Nat's adopted kid, has the ability to control time, also she's really good with swords bc badass. This is a soulmate au, the one where the danger meter reaches 10, you're transported to your soulmate. However it is established relationship-ish bc for angst purposes, Frank thought reader died :( Ok anyways onto le fic

Check out my Masterlist ○●○● "Y'know, Red...My girl would've loved you" Frank said, a somber smile gracing his features. "Why is that?" "Well you got...morals 'n shit. She did too, always tryin' to see the good in people, even assholes like me..." Monster. My fault. "Was she your soulmate?" "Mm-hmm. She, uh... she's gone." My fault. My fault. My fault. "Oh. I'm...sorry, Frank." Frank laughed humorlessly. "Why d'you think I'm doing this, Red? Those bastards took her. I'm gonna make them pay, dammit. Whatever it takes." My fault. My fault. Daredevil was silent. He opened his mouth to something, but decided against it, "watching" the Punisher carefully. ...Were those...gunshots? "Shit," Frank muttered. "They're here." Matt fought valiantly, or as valiantly as one could while chained to a post, but they were outnumbered. And then they were unconscious. ○●○● "So, daughter mine, about that soulmate..." "Dad, don't start." You gave Bruce Banner, your dad, a dirty look. "I just wanna know!" he held his hands up in surrender. "Did...something happen?" "...You could say that." He looked less than satisfied by that answer, and you sighed. "He...he's better off without me." He gave a small chuckle and a sympathetic look. "You know, I thought that about your mom. But here we are, and now, we have you. You are the best thing in mine and your mother's life." "Talking about me?" Nat said, peeking into the lab. "Hi, maman." "What's the matter, kiddo?" "Nothin', just...love problems I guess-" Dark. Black. A brick wall? A terrifying wave of dread settled in your gut. Frank's in danger. A quick glance at your meter confirmed it. A ten. Shit. ○●○● Frank Castle came to in a dark room, tied to a chair and beaten to shit. "Took you long enough." Red. "Where the hell are we?" "Uh, by the sound of it, some warehouse." "In the butt-fuck middle of nowhere?" "Yep." "Ah, boys. So glad you're awake." An unfamiliar voice, coming from a dark corner of the room. However, the click of a gun, presumably pointed at him, was less so. If they shoot, I'm dead. "Look, we can talk about this. You just-" "Unfortunately, Mr. Castle, this is not a negotiation. It's an execution." They sighed. "Say goodbye to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen...although he'll be following close behind you-" They were cut off by the static sound of the walkie-talkie clipped to their belt. "Can I help you? I'm kind of in the middle of something." "There's a girl." The person on the other side whispered, terrified. "Got swords. Moving really fast. Too fast to shoot." It can't be. There's no way in hell- "Well, take care of her somehow. I have other issues to attend to." "We'll tr- aughh!" A new voice spoke. "Where is he." It is. Oh, fuck. "I don't know what you're talking about." Their captor spoke smoothly. "You know damn well what I'm talking about." Frank breathed her name, shocked. "Your soulmate?" Red murmured to him. "It's her. She's...Oh, my god, it's her." "I'm upstairs." The asshole said. "But I really wouldn't advise coming in here, if you wish to spare these idiots." "We'll see about that." ●○●○ No time, no time, no time- Oh, my god. Time. You flicked your wrists, slowing the time to almost a stop as you took care of the fuckers around you, before bolting upstairs. You let time slip through your fingers, resuming at its normal speed as you slammed the door open. "Oh, what a shame. She didn't listen." The asshole aimed the gun at Frank, and you saw red. "Say goodbye..." You stabbed at their knee, grabbing their wrist and twisting it, maneuvering the cocky motherfucker into a kneeling position, until you hit them on the head

with the handle of your sword. "Cagna." you spat as they slumped to the ground. Your head snapped up as Frank breathed your name, voice cracking. You knelt before him with a sad smile. "Frankie, mi tesoro, did they hurt you? Are you alright?" "'m okay, 'm fine." ●○●○ Frank stared in shock as she knocked out our captor. It's her. Holy fuck it's actually her. He said your name softly, and you looked up at him, smiling. God, I missed that smile. And those eyes. I missed her. You walked over, cradling his face in your hands. You were saying something, but he couldn't quite understand what. He could make out an "are you okay" and he told you he was fine. Was he fine? He wasn't sure. "Don't ever do that to me again." he whispered, getting tired. "Ever." He felt your hand on his chin, tipping his head up towards you. What were you saying? "Stay awake. You can't sleep yet." You sliced through his bindings, leaving him to slump to the floor. "'m tired...Get Red. Don't forget 'im." You looked at him quizzically. "O'er there," he slurred, pointing a heavy finger. Just a little nap... ○●○● "Hey. Hey, Frank. Wake up." You had set free the man in red, who introduced himself as Daredevil. "Shit." "I'll get him out of here. Lead the way." "We have to get him back to the tower." Shit shit shit shit shit. "Lead. The. Way." The Devil said, trying to calm you. The meter was at a 9 now, still too high. You and Daredevil dragged your soulmate to the Avengers tower, laying him before your father. Your mom wrapped a gentle arm around your shoulder, attempting to soothe your panic. When they said he needed to rest and recover, but would be fine, you still refused to leave his side, holding his hand and watching him carefully as he slept. ○●○● Frank came to, again, in some kind of medical wing. He glanced to his side to find you, asleep, but looking troubled, and still holding tight to his hand. "You're awake." called another voice. He looked over, already moving to protect his soulmate, when a short, tired looking man stepped into his vision. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt her." "You're...you're that big green guy from the Avengers." "Mm-hmm. And the girl you're about to rip your stiches trying to protect is my daughter." Frank glanced from you to the man, confused. "Adopted." Bruce supplied helpfully. Frank nodded, glancing your way again as you stirred. "Mornin' sunshine." he said, and you smiled gently at him. Alive. Alive. Left me? You placed a gentle hand on his furrowed brow, hoping to soothe him. He tipped his head up to kiss your palm and your smile became more genuine. "Why'd you leave?" He asked you. "I, um..." you trailed off, looking at your feet. "I thought you were dead. I thought you died." You opened your mouth to say something, but stopped when he called your name sharply. "Why did you leave?" he asked again, voice breaking. "I'm sorry." he watched as your eyes filled with tears. No, no, no, don't cry. Please don't cry. "It's okay," he said softly. "It isn't. You almost died." "'m fine, sweetheart. I'm here." he leaned up, tilting your head towards him to kiss you softly. "Ah! Ew! My eyes! Disgusting!" Tony screeched as he stepped into the lab. You pulled away to flip him off, before tugging Frank back to you. "Okay, okay," Bruce said, "Don't tear his stitches now." ●○●○ Translations- Cagna- means "bitch" in Italian Mi Tesoro- translates to "my darling" Anywhooo I thought this was kinda cute but idk leave feedback (and requests, please, I'm out of ideas)

#frank castle x reader #the punisher x reader #frank castle fic #frank castle fluff #frank castle soulmate au #im such a simp for this mf #its unhealthy

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voraciouslyindulgent · 5 years

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ooc

I found a super old drabble I wrote about Nickel before she showed up in the comics because I couldn’t wait like a sensible person. I kinda like it, even though it’s completely canon-divergent, so I’m gonna put this here in case anyone wants a light read.

Featuring: Tarn, other DJD, Deadlock, an OC, and of course snarky grandma Nickel.

Enjoy. <3

“Please don’t tell me it’s another crate.”

Tarn paused at the end of the disembark ramp, and squinted until his optics calibrated to the hot bake of twin, alien suns.

“I’m gettin’ real tired of delivering parcels for you, Tarn.” Deadlock scowled from his hip-cocking in front of a pod. “I have better things to do, like my job.” The fanged mech crossed his arms, and tapped a ped against the sand.

“We all have jobs, Deadlock.” Tarn waited until Helex rolled out the carpet before walking out from the shade of the Peaceful Tyranny.

Deadlock gave him a deadpan stare. “Are you fraggin’ kidding me?”

Tarn tilted his helm. “I do not enjoy the sensation of rock grains chafing against my gears, however fine they may be.” The carpet sank under his steps.

“Oh no. Rock grains.”

Tarn hummed a chuckle.

“As I was sayin’,” Deadlock grimaced, “I have more important things to do than playing delivery bot for you. Call a courier next time.”

“No job is more important than the other.” The tankformer stopped before the smaller ‘Con, “You know better than to judge the work by its nature.”

“Of course.” A drawl of syllables. “So,” the gunfighter jerked his chin, “if he’s not in a crate, why d’you need another one?”

Tarn regarded the other mech. The suns were blazing against his treads. Heat rolled from the sand in visible waves.

“I…caught him committing questionable acts with our marks.” He answered, a slight cringe in his gaze. It was not a lie, but it was not the whole truth. He had to preserve the reputation of the Division, and a sniveling plea for a transfer would not do.

“Marks?” Deadlock frowned. “Y’mean…”

“Yes.” The tankformer replied. “The ones we cross off from the List.”

“You caught ‘im having a romp with Listers and he’s not in a crate?” Deadlock looked like he was calculating advanced aerophysics.

“He was not fornicating with our marks.” Tarn explained. “He was eating them. Well, what parts that could be salvaged.”

“…Oh.” The smaller ‘Con took a shutter of optics. “Great. I can’t wait for a trip across the galaxy stuck with the guy.”

“He won’t cause you trouble.” Tarn reassured his comrade.

“So long as I’m not dead or dyin’.” A grumble.

The leader of the DJD laughed, and looked to the pod. “Where’s our new medic?”

“On her way.” Deadlock glanced over his shoulder, and gestured at the door. “Said she didn’t want any help.”

As though summoned by the mention of her person, a little aft wiggled into view, followed by stout peds ending in wheels and noises of exertion. A minibot appeared, inch by inch out the door, lugging a case twice her size and thrice her volume. Sparks flew where the metal container screeched against the ramp of the pod, dragging grooves into the scratched surface and chipping paint.

“Hey hey!” Deadlock snapped around, arms unraveling. “That’s my pod you’re carving the Rusty Canyons into.”

“Oh shut your yapper already.” A curt, dry voice retorted. “I’ll buy you a new one, Primus-damned.”

Tarn frowned, and watched the tiny body strain and hiss as it yanked at a case sinking into the sand. He tilted his helm toward Tesarus, and sent him a glance.

“Got it.” The behemoth of a grinder nodded. He walked towards the minibot, and reached for her luggage.

“Na-na-na!” A little blue hand slapped Tesarus on the arm. “Off! No touching!”

Tesarus started. His lips curled. “Listen here, you squirt—”

“Squirt? Ha! You wish.” The minibot snorted.

Tesarus blurted a blip of static. His grinding blades whirred.

Tarn’s optics narrowed.

At last, the tiny medic stopped before the leader of the DJD. She took a blast of air, and craned her neck cables as she gave him a full once-over. “It’s nothin’ personal, big T. Flying and I just don’t agree. It gives me a migraine.”

“I would prefer you to address me as ‘Tarn’.”

“Of course.” The little femme grinned. “I’m Nickel.”

“My pleasure.” Tarn knelt down, and extended his hand.

Nickel shook his index finger. “Phew! What a place!” She scanned the horizon of sand dunes, optics pinched. “My internals are fryin’. Extreme heat is not good for my little fat chassis.”

“We will depart shortly.” Tarn answered the minibot. “Gyrodyne is on his way.”

“Oh good.”

“Regarding what you mentioned earlier, about flying...” The tankformer frowned. “Most of our work requires space travel.”

“Yeah. In a proper ship.” Nickel tossed Deadlock a glare of irritation with a scrunch of her nose. “That, is not a ship.” She pointed at the pod. “That is a piece of scrap a certain idiot traded our perfectly well-ventilated and steady shuttle for.”

“Don’t.” Deadlock pointed right back. “You do not insult Gasket.”

“Now he’s named it!” The medic threw up her arms. “Turmoil’s gonna be real happy for you.”

Deadlock narrowed his optics, and growled through his fangs.

“Speaking of,” Tarn stood up, “send Turmoil my regards.”

Deadlock stopped his glowering at the minibot, and huffed. “Oh yeah, he’s just dyin’ to get your regards, Tarn. That’s gonna make all the difference when I tell ‘im what I did to his shuttle.” The gunfighter patted his pod, and stroked its fading paint with a thumb. “But in my books, totally worth it.” A small smile tugged the corners of his lips. “Never owned anything in my life.” He looked down, as though embarrassed.

Behind his mask, Tarn smiled as well. “Peace through tyranny.” He said.

“Yeah.” Deadlock rubbed under his nose with a digit, and straightened when a form scooted out of the Tyranny. “Ah, there’s my cargo.”

“Can someone please help me?” Gyrodyne dumped his crates on the carpet, cooling fans a constant whirr. “These are really heavy.” He propped his hand on his hips, and flicked the rotor blades on his back.

“Get your aft in the pod.” Deadlock rolled his optics, and made his way to the boxes.

“Thanks!” The copter pattered toward the pod, and paused at the door. “Is that a leg?” His optics flashed.

“Yep.” Deadlock answered as he hefted the crates on a shoulder. “Met an Autobot when tiny and I stopped for some fresh air.” He walked to his pod. “And don’t even think about it.” He jabbed a finger at the copter’s nose before passing through the entrance.

“I wasn’t.” Gyrodyne exclaimed as he followed inside. “I don’t like legs.” His voice trailed off as the ramp retracted and the door slid closed, a loud clunk over the activating hum of the pod’s thruster systems.

Tarn watched. The piercing sunlight scalded his plating, and the fragrant polish on his derma evaporated in tendrils of white smoke.

The pod began to shake, stirring swells of sand that burst in glittering waves. Tesarus gave him a look, and left without a word, joining the rest of the DJD as they entered their ship. Nickel lingered, a ped turned toward the Peaceful Tyranny. She waited, silent, a slight furrow between her brow ridges as the dial on her forehead wavered.

Gusts of air spat from the pod. Granules of sand beat against his armor.

“…Last farewell is fondest.” Tarn whispered, optics dim. “Fading glimpses of stars to a waking day.”

A burst of flame lifted the pod until it hovered, an outer ring of thrusters igniting.

“Dreary is the white sky cast bleak by a sun no longer warm.” He recited:

“…I am but an observer…”

The pod shot up in a crackling blast.

“…to an unending night,” he murmured, “…disguised in the tides of the world.”

Tarn watched, until the little white orb faded out of the atmosphere.

The carpet was nudging at the tips of his peds.

The tankformer looked down, and spotted Nickel tugging at her crate, which had caught on the edge of the carpet.

“Stupid…glitchin’…spawn of the Unmaker…!” She gritted, engine revving a high-pitched whine as she yanked and pulled at the handle.

Tarn shuttered his optics. “Are you sure you don’t want-”

“Then what are you waitin’ for?” Nickel blew a loud ex-vent, and sagged against the container. “I’m too old for this.” She shook her helm, fans whirring at top speed.

Tarn turned around, and scooped up the crate. He reached to pick up the minibot, but a flash of blue stalled his hand.

“Grab me and I’ll bolt your aft to the hull.” The medic scrunched her nose, and narrowed her optics.

The leader of the DJD stared at the tiny bot. A swell of laughter murmured from his throat.

“Please roll up the carpet and take it with you.” He straightened, and strolled toward his ship. “Make sure Helex gives it a thorough dusting before returning it to storage.”

“You’re putting Helex on cleaning duty?” Nickel called after him. She must have familiarized herself with their files. “One look and I know he can’t dust for scrap. He can’t even dust himself.”

“Well, Nickel,” Tarn peeked over his treads, a glimmer in his gaze, “that’s why you’re here.”

“That’s why you need me.” The minibot huffed.

“Indeed.” The tankformer turned around, a waning smile behind his mask. “Medics are irreplaceable.” He waded into the shadow, cast by the ship against the white light of twin, alien suns.

#ooc #mun fic #long post #if you're on mobile and this doesn't cut i'm sorry

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vidderinserts · 7 years

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Tell Me You Love Me || Anti x Reader (romantic)

Guess who's back with some romance? Well, sorta romance? The actual backstory is a bit vague but I might delve more into it later. But I hope you enjoy! Warning: very lightly implied sexual stuff. OOC Anti. My crappy writing lol Static tingled up your spine, rousing you gently from sleep. You smiled into your pillow, shivering under the strange... you weren't entirely sure what it was. Essence? A non corporeal form? It was something. Crackling in your ear, setting your nerves on edge despite knowing you were safe - possibly the safest you had ever been, or would be again. "G'mornin' love," the pitch of the voice wavered, flipping between a raspy high pitch and lower, growling. "Sleep well?" "Very well." You rolled into your back, enjoying the sheets against the exposed skin. Anti was sitting up, one leg propping up his arm and the other dangling over the edge of the bed. His glitching eyes met yours, a fanged smirk turning up his lips. "You look good enough to eat." "You look like a cat who caught a canary," you mused, sitting up and stretching. Sunlight streamed in through a crack in the blackout curtains, illuminating a strip of his grey-green tinged skin and his heterochromic irises. He was flawless looking, aside from the gashes healed over precariously on his throat. "And then won best in show." Flickering fingers reached out to brush against your cheek, a jittery giggle escaping the glitch. "Only one winnin' that is you, love." You closed your eyes under his hand, the static feeling sending a strange feeling down your cheekbone and jaw. "My energizer bunny." You mumbled, feeling his hand jolt with a bit more energy. Silence enveloped you two, aside from the staticky noise that followed Anti everywhere he went. He stroked your cheek with his rough thumb, eyes back to staring through the crack in the curtain. You briefly entertained the thought of what he might be seeing; your neighbor mowing his lawn, or maybe the girl across the street heading out for her jog. People who only knew of Anti as the 'ill man living with Y/N.' People who had met the demon all assumed that he was dying, or perhaps deficient in something. So the two of you agreed to let that be the cover up. Anti was sick and couldn't leave the house much, sensitive to heat and sunlight. The neighbors sent their regards through you, asking how your boyfriend was. "He's planning on taking over the world." It was usually met with laughter, which amused the green haired man to no end. "It's raining." His voice was mostly settled into the lower range, lacking the giddy madness that drove it to the higher pitch. "Thunder too." "Mm, that's new?" You joked lightly, rolling into your stomach and leaning over the edge of the bed. You grasped the sleeve of a plain black shirt, probably the one he wore last night - though not for very long. "Your sass isn't." "You'd miss it if it left." His head glitched, turning to watch you. The intensity of his blue, green and black eyes made you shiver. "I'd miss you." The sincerity in his words and sureness in his voice choked you up momentarily, before you were able to look away. The shirt was pulled on, you allowing it to pool around your thighs. Thunder shook the house and you sighed softly, combing your fingers through your hair in attempts to tame it. "You know, I've always wanted to dance in the rain." "If that's what my princess wants," a clawed hand offered to help you out of bed and you smiled. After standing you shimmied into joggers and one of his human counterparts' hoodies. "I'd raze the world to the ground for you. Flood cities and demolish towns, if you only asked." The heavy promises hung in the air as you were led outside, stopping only to start a pot of coffee. His black tipped hand found purchase on your waist, the other holding yours gently. You stroked the sensitive skin of his neck with your thumb, humming softly. His eyes flickered, staring into yours. Once upon a time, before he had taken over their body for good, you had found it unnerving. Now you liked to watch the way blue and green rocketed back and forth against black sclera. It really was reminiscent of a tv, an older one back when static overtook screens past a certain time. "You look pensive, doll." He spun you away from him, before pulling you back tightly. You nearly tripped, but his arm caught you around the middle. You were pulled tightly against his chest, back against him. "Did I say somethin'?" "No, it's just..." you chewed your lip, waiting until you were facing him once more. "You promise such big things for me, for us. But... what do I do for you?" Anti paused, eyes above your head to watch across the street. You could hear your neighbor starting her car, hear her toddlers babbling excitedly about what their plans for the day were. "Everything you do, big or small..." he began, voice tilting a bit higher. Was he stressed? "It keeps me goin', gives me a reason to keep doin' what were doin'. Nothin' you do is insignificant to me." Those eyes came back to you, piercing. "You love me, gimme the attention I need to keep up his channel so they'll keep saying my name. You help create what we put there, so I'll be able to stay." You gave a minute nod, despite still feeling that pressing weight in your shoulders. "I'm still able to keep bein' here cause of you, Y/N, and that's more'n enough." You swallowed around the lump in your throat, smiling shakily up at him. You had never known Anti to be a liar, never known him to fib about even the smallest thing. But you had also never heard him sound so sincere, and worried about whether you had gotten the message he wanted to convey. "Anti, I..." you swallowed again, feeling tears prick your eyes. He hummed lowly, reaching up to wipe a mix of rain and tears from your lashes. You saw his sharp teeth when he grinned down at you, kissing the tip of your nose. "I love you." "I know, princess... and I love you."

#antisepticeye x reader #my writing #anti x reader

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bates--boy · 4 months

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#tumblr polls #nothin' but static ( ooc )#writers of ao3 #archive of our own #tumblr poll #fanfic #fanfiction #romance fiction

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bates--boy · 2 months

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#nothin' but static ( ooc )#roleplay #roleplay search #tumblr poll #tumblr polls #archive of our own #ao3 #ao3 writer #rpc #fanfic #fanfiction #roleplay community

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bates--boy · 3 months

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// Y'all know about that headcanon I have about baby Peter eating pretty much anything he could catch on his fort to survive on his own?

Yeah...

#nothin' but static ( ooc )#you won't find this in the history books ( about )#hetalia #hws sealand #aph sealand

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bates--boy · 19 days

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ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

This muse started out as an ask blog, actually! I don't really know what drew me to adult!Peter from the beginning; maybe it's because I really liked underappreciated characters, or maybe I saw how little canon material there was of older Peter versus material for his canon age (which was still very little back in the day.) But I think it was the latter, because it meant that I could shape adult!Peter into any person that I want, which was how my portrayal went from bland, goody two shoes upstanding citizen to a nervous wreck constantly facing a plethora of childhood trauma and trying his best.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

I do have rules about not writing rape or incest ships, but it is mostly carried over from my previous rp blogs. In fact, it may be hypocritical of me to even have this rule if you know about the Infamous Fic. I still have reservations about writing this topic, though, because far too many writers and RPers don't treat the subject matter as the horrifying thing that it is, and it's a fetish for some writers, which like... okay, write the rape porn, empty of nuance and trauma or whatever, just do it over there.

I guess another thing I don't like to write is writing against a villain or overpowered character. Over the years, I had sometimes found it to be tedious at best, and unpleasant at worst. Hell, my character canonically is super powerful, and even I don't overdo it. I would never ask a writer of a villain to tone it down, though. It's just one of those things that require curating your dashboard or whatever.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

With that being said, it is wild how much I write Peter getting into arguments or fights. He's a firecracker baby, an asshole of the highest degree, and it's refreshing to find writers who can do a good back and forth, who can write a fight that actually drives the plot and thread forward, and lead to revelations about character motivations beyond "My character is evil, get used to it."

Another thing I like to write is scifi. But I never get my scifi threads. :c

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

I mostly start with the canon material and a little bit of history and go from there. Like, "What could possibly go wrong with an immortal child mostly abandoned in a derelict fort in the middle of the sea? How does constantly being kicked out of places that you know you belong in, being ignored by your primary parental figure during your formative years, and being told implicitly that you're no used to anyone after the war, fuck up a child? What skills did Peter develop as he survived in both an abandoned fort and in the middle of a war zone? Where is the breaking point, and how does his reaction to reaching that point change overtime and with shifting motivations?"

Sometimes, it just comes to me.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

It depends on my sensory load. I mostly like listening to music while I write, because it helps me to put in all the emotions I need for a scene to really make it hit. But if I had a sensory overload all day (talking to people, being in bright and overcrowded spaces, etc.) or if the scene in the thread is chill, I just write in silence.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

I try to plan as much as possible, and even jot down ideas for a thread, but I mostly wing them.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

Yeah, I do! Especially unconventional ships. (In fact, one of my old shipping partners and I had our muses having a baby together.) Sadly, my former shipping partners had left the fandom and the RPC, and most of the fandom characters I'm interested in shipping Peter with are not popular, so there aren't any writers to ship with, especially for a character as difficult to love as my canon-divergent Peter.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

In this sphere, I'm known as Droid! In another sphere, I'm known as Decada! I don't know why I chose those names!

ᴀɢᴇ?

Ageless. [knees crack, back aches]

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

[redacted]

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

Teal.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

Well, I've been singing "Do You Hear the People Sing" for a couple days, now, so it's probably that. Oh, and "Colors" by Coheed and Cambria.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Kon-Tiki (2013)

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Abbott Elementary

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

Chocolate Covered Dreams by The Breed

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

I'm gonna have to agree with Vera on this one, but I really do love savory stuff.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

I would say Summer because I like going out, being able to walk without needing an umbrella or having to layer, and that's when most events like concerts or parades happen. But, god, the sweat! The fucking sweat! I am a fat fuck and it is unpleasant to sweat in every crevice of my body. So, Autumn.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

I used to. The same mun who had written Peter's baby mama. She had also written this adorable and spunky child OC and she and Peter were two peas in a pod! We would gush about how adorable and sweet their dynamic was, and it was heartwarming to see what she had posted about her personal life. (Can you tell that I miss her?)

tagged by: @nezumivc103221 (ay yo, thanks!) tagging: @latvianpoet @the-expatriate @sicilitude @heta-micronomics @gebrochener-adler

#nothin' but static ( ooc )

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