#one of the few character things that actually gets to me sometimes

[spaceclefairy]

Keep that Coffee Hot

You, a bounty agent. The Ghoul, a bounty hunter. The Ghoul needs to cash in on his most recent job and ends up with more than the contract promised.

When the Ghoul walks through the front door of your office, you know he's here for one of two things: a contract or a cashout. This no-name wasteland town is little more than a hub for the bounty agencies, so you get rough characters milling in and out of town all the time, but no one can clear a street quite like this Ghoul. You always know when he's back in town - the few people milling about scatter, and even the other bounty hunters coming through make themselves scarce. Even in the middle of a wasteland, he somehow makes the place even more desolate with his just presence alone. 

You don't mind the Ghoul, personally. Dealing with him is part of your job, after all - you're a bounty agent, he's a bounty hunter. You manage the contracts, he hunts the target, you give the payout when he's done. Easy-peasy. He's intimidating, sure, and dangerous, but he's always been all business with you, and he’s damn good for business. 

And if he’s a little flirty sometimes, well, you don’t mind.

This time when the Ghoul struts through your door, he’s dusty from the wasteland outside and carrying a grimy, drippy leather bag in hand. The leather bag squelches faintly as whatever's inside shifts around, dripping brownish liquid on the scrubbed wooden floor. He greets you in his usual way, with a howdy and a sugary darlin’, and plonks the bag down on your desk, goo oozing out from the seams. 

“Howdy, Coop,” you greet, eying the bag with glee. As you drag it over to you, it leaves a snail-trail of ick on the wood, staining it further. You peer into the bag and confirm it's the correct bounty in your contract.

“One mutant heart, as requested,” the Ghoul says. He watches you with a faint amused smile. “Never brought the bounty straight to the agent before.”

You dump the faintly-pulsing mutant heart out on the desk. It’s overly large - much larger than a normal human’s - and gray-brown, and it spurts little gushes of blood when you poke it, so you know it’s still fresh. You’re surprised it’s still working, but that’s why you paid for the Ghoul: he gets things done quickly. 

“That's because I'm the client this time.”

“Aw, you asked for me?” the Ghoul teases, only a little derisively, grinning at you. “That’s sweet.”

You roll your eyes. “I didn't ask for you - I gave the contract straight to you.”

“Straight to little ol’ me, huh?” he grins, resting his elbows on top of your desk.

Anyone else would have been shot for getting this close to you and your contract book, but you’ve always had a little bit of a soft spot for this Ghoul. It might be the flirting swaying your judgment. It might be that he’s actually fairly polite when he comes in - for a bounty hunter anyway. Regardless, you can’t deny you let him get away with more than you let the others who come in for payout.

“That’s what I said, Cooper,” you say as you duck down under your desk to retrieve a sack of caps from the safe and a case stocked with chems and rad-away. “You’re expensive, but you’re worth it. And I needed that done quickly.”

The Ghoul gestures down at the faintly thumping heart. “What’d you want with that guy anyway?”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“Explains why you wanted his heart in a bag,” the Ghoul comments. He sounds vaguely impressed. “Your ex-boyfriend was a mutant with two heads.”

“Four heads if you count the two below the belt,” you reply. You hand the Ghoul the bag of caps first and the case full of chems second. “Here's your payout and a bonus for quick work.”

The Ghoul opens the case slightly and snaps it shut, apparently pleased by the way his non-existent eyebrows raise. He shoves the bag of caps and case into his shoulder bag and slings it back over his shoulder. “Much appreciated. You got anything else for me to do?”

“Plenty. Let me check the contract log.”

You reach for your book to check, but he stops you by dragging the book over to him. Truly, anyone else would have been shot. Not him. He flips open a page and runs a gloved finger down the crease in the spine, pretending to read whatever’s on the page.

The Ghoul glances up at you. “Are you in the contract log?”

You meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. “Are you telling me you want to do me, Cooper?”

“Sure am, darlin’.”

You lean back in your chair, eyeing the Ghoul where he stands. You’ve always liked his eyes. It’s the only part of him left that looks like there’s still humanity to him.

The Ghoul steps back. “But, if a ghoul’s not really your thing…”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Then what do you say?”

You pause, pretending to think, but you don’t really have to think about it. “Sure, why not?”

“You got a backroom or somethin’ or we just movin’ your book out of the way?”

You nod towards the door behind you, not that you’d be opposed to just fucking him here in the middle of your office. “Yeah, I got a backroom.”

Said backroom constitutes little more than a spare desk and chair with a window, but that’s really all you’ll need. There are no curtains for the window, so whoever walks by is going to get an eyeful of what’s going on if they peek in at the wrong time. You don’t particularly care, and the Ghoul surely doesn’t.

The hat and duster stay put as the Ghoul backs you up against the desk. He’s only a bit taller than you, but his presence takes up the remainder of the tiny, boiling hot room. The hollow, pitted flesh of his face appears raw and red, but his eyes are pretty and alert. His lips are dry and smooth against yours, raw like the rest of his skin. You don’t mind - there’s no room to be picky out in this wasteland town. 

You’re not sure how he’s not miserable in the heat of the tiny room, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. In any case, you drag him closer by his belt, fisting your hand in his duster.

The Ghoul kisses you again, then strips off one of his leather gloves with his teeth and tosses it on the desk behind you. “Guess a ghoul is a step up from a mutant, at least?”

You yank his belt open and shimmy his pants down over his hips - he doesn’t let you get them down any farther. “I like ghouls.”

“Well, then, you’re a fuckin’ weirdo, ain’t ya?”

You slide down the side of the desk and hit your knees, your back pressed against the creaking wood. “Works out well for you, doesn’t it, Coop?”

His still-gloved hand wraps around the back of your neck, the leather sticking to your skin in the heat. “Sure does, darlin’.”

You take his exposed cock in hand and lick him root to tip, grinning at the hiss he gives you. His hand tightens around the back of your neck, catching in your hair. He looms over you, his unoccupied hand planted on the desk, blacking out the sides of your vision with his duster. You slide your hand down around the base of his cock and inch your lips down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks out, and he groans, low and slow, hips twitching like he's fighting the urge to just bury himself in your throat. You look up at him, wrapping your tongue around the tip of his cock, and his eyes are dark deep in the hollows of his eye sockets. 

He doesn't tolerate your teasing long. No, he tangles his hand in your hair and presses himself deep down your throat until your nose is flush with his skin. You gag around him, and he grins, pulling out and thrusting back in so you'll gag on him again.

“That's it,” the Ghoul says, teetering right on the edge of breathlessness, “you take it so well.”

You punctuate his words by scraping your teeth down his shaft, which he seems to like by the way he slams himself down your throat. Your eyes water, and you can feel the tears rolling down your face as surely as you can feel sweat snaking through your hair.

“Look so good on your knees for me,” he says, threading his fingers through your hair. He catches your chin with his ungloved hand, tilting your face up with his cock still in your mouth. His thumb swipes through the tears staining your face. “Pretty as a picture.”

The backroom is only getting hotter the longer you're stuck on your knees, clothed and trapped underneath the Ghoul’s duster with him. You're sure you're soaking through your clothes by now. Your hand snakes down to undo your top and pants so you can get some relief from the heat. It doesn’t help much, but it’s enough to keep your head from swimming.

The Ghoul takes that as an indication you’re itching to take your clothes off (you are). He hauls you to your feet, picks you up, and deposits you on top of the desk, looming over you with a grin. You let him strip the rest of your shirt off and help him get your pants off of one leg. You squeeze his hips between your thighs and hook your foot around his back, pulling him flush against you. 

“Take off the duster, Coop,” you say, moving to tug it down his shoulder. “It’s too hot in here for that.”

He takes the hand clutching his duster and pins it down to the desk. “I think you just want me to get naked.”

You smirk. “That, too.”

He strips off the other glove with his teeth and grips your hip. “Maybe next time, doll.”

“Aw, you wanna fuck me again - oh, fuck-”

The Ghoul doesn’t let you finish teasing him, instead thrusting into you with a rough stroke. The words get caught in your mouth, and he loves that. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Dick,” you say, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him into a breathless kiss. “Just come here.”

The Ghoul yanks you closer by the hip and wastes no time rutting into you. He can’t decide where to put his hands and runs them up your hips, your sides, grabs at your tits, before finally settling one hand around the back of your neck (seems to be his favorite place to grab you) and the other hand down in your lap so he can press his thumb to your clit. You clench around him, and that just makes him thrust into you harder, rubbing tight circles into your clit.

You’re not gonna last long - not like this. It’s hot, and he feels so good, thick and heavy in your cunt, and the way he groans in your ear and licks at your neck makes you whine.

You can tell the Ghoul is getting close to from the way his hips start to stutter, pressing deeper into you, pace quickening. He yanks your head back by your hair and latches onto your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin.

He presses his lips to your ear, “Where do you want it, doll?”

“Inside,” you reply, tightening your legs around him. “Less cleanup. And I’ve got extra radaway.”

The Ghoul takes that to heart, pounding into you until you cum with a sharp whine. It doesn’t take him long to finish after you, spilling himself deep inside you. He pulls out, cock soaked and softening slowly, but he’s not done with you. He stuffs his fingers into your cunt to keep you full, pumping in and out, and keeps pressing down on your clit with his thumb. It’s teetering violently on the edge of too much, overstimulating you, but you cum again anyway, this time harder and louder from the aftershocks ripping through you.

You drop bonelessly to the desk when he pulls his fingers out, and you watch him idly through your comedown as he licks his own fingers clean.

After a beat, you clamber up onto your elbows. “You still want another contract?”

The Ghoul adjusts himself and zips up his pants, chuckling lowly. “I just fucked you stupid and you’re talking about work.”

You grab your shirt and pull it down over your head, climb down off the desk, and set to work pulling up your pants. “Gets boring around here - gotta keep you coming back somehow.”

He snorts. “Oh, babydoll, you’ll be begging to get rid of me if you keep that up.”

“Try me.”

“I could use another contract,” he says. The slow grin that spread across his face would give anyone else chills. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your little book out there.”

#cooper howard #fallout prime #fotv #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #fallout the ghoul

[redroses07]

How The Evans Would React To Reader Who Has Panic Attacks

A/N: Hi guys!! This is just what I headcanon Evan's characters to be like with a partner who has panic attacks. As someone who deals with panic attacks personally, this hits really close to home. I hope y'all enjoy, and comments are always appreciated.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡

Tate Langdon

Has experienced panic himself, so is surprisingly good at handling them.

Will hold you as close as possible until it passes.

Lets you cry into his chest and sometimes even sheds a few tears himself.

Combs his fingers through your hair and presses soft kisses to your forehead.

He's mostly quiet during them considering he's not the best with his words, and mostly relies on his physical presence to comfort you.

Tate hates seeing you like this, so he always pushes you to have a conversation about what triggered the attack once you're calm.

Tate obviously isn't a mental health expert, but he wants to help you to the best of his ability.

Kit Walker

The SWEETEST boy oh my lord.

Kit will immediately drop whatever he's doing and rush to be by your side.

He takes both of your hands in his, and pulls you into him.

"Look at me, sweetheart. You'll get through this."

Is super vocal, and his words always help calm you.

Will kiss your tears away until you don't have anymore to shed.

"I love you hon, it's gonna be okay."

Once you've calmed down some, he'll carry you to bed so you can rest.

Listens to your every request and does whatever in order to make you feel comfortable.

Also makes sure that he knows your triggers so he can help minimize your attacks.

Kit is the king of communication, and your relationship is built on honesty and transparency.

Pre-Death Kyle Spencer

Also extremely sweet and loving.

I'm a firm believer that Kyle is an amazing listener so over time he becomes very well equipped to help you.

"Hey babe are you okay?"

"Oh shit!" He immediately pulls you into him.

Will sway back and forth as he holds you to help soothe you.

Also I think he would have a habit of humming softly in your ear, whether it's consciously or not.

Jimmy Darling

I know for a fact that Jimmy is a big hugger, so his first instinct is to give you a big hug.

He doesn't have much experience with panic attacks, but I'm sure my queen Ethel taught him how to be empathetic.

I feel like he would sing to you to calm you down, doing what he does best yk?

I think he'd be a super anxious boyfriend, so he'll constantly check in on you for the next few days to make sure you're okay.

"Hey, how're ya feeling?"

"Jimmy, I told you I'm okay."

"I know, I know, I just want to be extra sure."

James March

I feel like he'd lowkey be super confused, especially the first time you had an around him.

Given the fact that he's over 100 years old he doesn't even know what a panic attack is.

I feel like he would think you were being possessed at first and freak out.

Once he does understand though, he'd actually be very loving.

For one thing, if James happens to fall in love with you then he is IN LOVE.

He would devote his life to you and nothing about you could deter him from loving you.

The main thing he'll do to comfort you is kiss you everywhere.

Like he will kiss your cheeks, your shoulders, your nose, your lips. Not in a sexual way, but in an affectionate way.

Kai Anderson

I think he'd be super super awkward about it.

Like I can honestly imagine him giving you a pat on the shoulder and being like "get it together."

On the other hand, if he's in a good mood, he'd start talking about how once he takes control of the country you won't have to deal with anything like that anymore.

If he's feeling extra generous he'll even hold your hand to help you relax.

Kai is your typical narcissist so he would deal with your panic attacks in the only way that he knows how, making it about himself.

But you know that's just how he is, and that he shows his affection in his own way.

#evan peters #american horror story #ahs #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #tate langdon #ahs fic #ahs tate #ahs x reader #ahs coven #ahs hotel #ahs fanfiction #ahs cult #james patrick march #james march x reader #tate langdon fanfic #tate langdon x reader #kit walker fanfic #kit walker x reader #kit walker #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x reader #jimmy darling #jimmy darling x reader #kai anderson #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x you #james march x you #ahs freakshow #ahs asylum

[writingonleaves]

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character

warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift

word count: 5.6k

author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!

~*~*~

When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 

It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.

She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 

At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 

She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.

May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)

I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 

I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 

But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.

When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 

At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.

I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.

I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?

The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 

But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.

After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?

When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 

I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 

June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 

I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?

I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.

I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 

Yet we still hurt each other. 

This fucking hurts.

You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 

Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 

When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 

Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?

I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 

All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 

It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.

And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.

The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.

I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 

So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.

Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 

So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?

I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 

I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?

You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.

Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 

Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?

It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.

I fucking loved you.

I wish it ended differently.

July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)

I really really fucking miss you. 

I do. 

I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 

I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.

I miss having you as a friend. 

I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.

Do you get the urge to do the same?

July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)

It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 

Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 

The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 

In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.

I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 

October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)

It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 

Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?

But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 

Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 

Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 

But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 

I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 

But I did once.

You did too, right?

November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)

I hate Halloween. 

Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 

Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 

It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 

We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?

Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 

Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 

I looked for you in every crowd for years. 

That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 

I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 

It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.

I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 

But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 

I hate Halloween.

November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)

I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 

Or maybe not. 

I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 

Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.

June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)

Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 

I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.

I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 

I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 

I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 

But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 

I hope you're moving on. 

And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 

If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.

Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 

Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 

But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 

Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 

She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.

And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 

She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.

After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.

Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 

Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 

Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 

It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.

Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 

(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)

She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 

The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 

She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 

Jeremy walks into the book store. 

Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 

As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.

Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 

The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 

The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 

The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 

Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 

“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 

Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 

He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 

“I see you bought my book.”

“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”

“You’ve been watching?”

She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”

She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”

“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 

She swallows. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ve already read it, you know.”

“Read what?”

Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”

“Oh.” 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”

She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”

“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 

He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”

“Could I get a signed copy?”

“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”

He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”

She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”

“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 

“We’re just going in circles now.”

“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”

“The point, is that I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”

He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”

“I do.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What are you going to let me do?”

“I live in Brooklyn.”

“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”

She tries again. “It’s been five years.”

“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”

Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”

“I hurt you too.”

He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”

“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”

“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”

“Even after reading the book?”

“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”

“Try for what?”

“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”

“Why did you never text me?”

“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”

“The message?”

“You blocked me, right?”

Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”

He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Who are you guys playing?”

“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”

She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.

to my first fan, 

i still love you too. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx

yours, 

noelle

He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 

“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”

“Oh.”

“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I’d be more surprised if you didn’t.”

She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”

His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.

#k writes #hockey fanfiction #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl writing #hockey blurb #hockey writing #boston bruins #jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman blurb #jeremy swayman writing #jeremy swayman fic #jeremy swayman fanfiction #jeremy swayman x ofc #jeremy swayman x oc #jeremy swayman x reader

[fallow-hollow]

Aaa! Your Kabru x reader was really nice! May I request a Holm x Reader where the reader helps him when he freezes up in rapid situations?

pick-me-up

…ft! holm kranom x gn! reader

…tags! pre-relationship, fluff, a little banter, reader knows some magic, some magic lore i may or may not have made up

…word count! 1167

…notes! people who are madly in love with side characters are truly god’s strongest soldiers. i hope i characterized your man correctly!!

As close as you and Holm were, neither of you really seemed to idealize one another too much. Being in the dungeon, you had to be aware of all your teammates’ strengths and flaws, regardless of personal opinion. When it came to the gnome you called your closest friend, even he didn’t deny it — he did not operate well under pressure.

Considering that you were in a place where foes could ambush you at any moment, anybody could see why this wasn’t a great quality to have. From being unable to save your friends to even being unable to save yourself, there were a lot of potential consequences to locking in place during the middle of combat. Something had to be done about it sooner rather than later, and if he had to ask someone, he’d rather it be you than anybody else.

The plan was formulated during some downtime the party had — something to stop Holm from going stock still whenever he felt overwhelmed. Luckily, your companion already had an idea for you.

“I figure the easiest way to deal with this’ll be using magic.”

You nodded. Not much of an obstacle, since you already had at least a few spells under your belt.

“As long as you have a rudimentary understanding of magic, it’s not gonna be too hard to get down.” For a moment, the gnome deliberated, wondering how to explain the concept to you. “You know how healing magic can hurt sometimes?”

With a grimace, you shook your head in understanding. Rin and Holm were pretty good about that sort of thing, but there had been more than a few occasions in past parties where healing and injury hurt even more than obtaining it. Seeing that you were familiar with what he was saying, the man continued.

“Well, that’s actually how healing magic is by default. When it doesn’t hurt, that’s because the caster is using a separate spell to numb your sensations.” As you listened, your mouth formed a little ‘o’ shape to show your interest. “Naturally, you can alter people’s sensations with magic in other ways, too.”

“Oh,” you would interject, “so I could use magic to make you more….focused?”

“Not quite, but yes.” At your approximation, he held up his index finger. “I was thinking you could use just a little bit of mana to sort of perk me up, almost like a spike of adrenaline to set me back in motion again.” His hand then lowered, turning over so his palm faced upward. “It’s pretty simple, just transferring mana through touch like you would with a healing spell.”

“I can do that, no problem!”

Ah, he was still looking at you, even after you said that… was there still more he wanted to share? When your eyes wandered down to the hand he held out, embarrassment that you hadn’t realized sooner quickly washed over you.

“Ah, you wanted to practice?” At first, you feared that your slow uptake had caused Holm some annoyance, but the relaxed smile on his face didn’t give way in the slightest. He seemed almost amused, really.

“Guess I should have been more clear about that, huh?”

The smirk on his face let you know that the question was most certainly rhetorical. Answering it would have been a moot point anyway, so instead you pouted and mumbled, “You’re always so snarky with me… not fair.”

Transferring mana was something you were fairly familiar with doing, so you were able to take the gnome’s hand into two of your own with little hesitation. Back when you’d just joined the party, the act of touching him made your cheeks heat up, but exposure to it over time had made the experience far from unfamiliar.

Just remember to envision the flow of the mana, you reminded yourself. Truly feel it, from your head to your toes, through your veins and bones, and out the tips of your fingers. Feel the current connecting you to him…

With your eyes trained on your joined hands, half lidded while you chanted the spell as instructed, you hardly noticed the way your companion’s ears actually twitched and perked up when the incantation was completed. Only when his whole body jolted did you shoot up in turn, concern pooling in your irises.

Said concern seemed to be unneeded, judging from the pleased look on his face. It was one that brought you relief, not just from the knowledge that you’d done well, but from the sight of him alone.

“That’s good, I think you’ve got it.” Even his voice seemed cheerier than before, and you weren’t quite sure if it was from the magic, your success, or both. Nonetheless, it was kind of nice to see his usually laid back demeanor become more enthusiastic from time to time. “So remember, the next time I get stunned in an overwhelming situation, use that if you’re near.”

“Of course!” You grinned, knowing you’d always be neat if you could help it.

That little practice session with Holm had been a few days ago by now. It took quite a while for a situation to actually arise that called for your little backup plan, but you most certainly kept your word.

Perhaps if it was just one stray suit of living armor, Rin or even Daya would’ve been able to dispatch it just fine. But in a whole hallway full of them with no way around, you could only tiptoe past them in hopes that maybe they’d ignore you, or even end up just being normal suits of armor. You should’ve known, of course, that the dungeon is no place for wishful thinking.

When the intimidating armored figures inevitably sprung to life, the first thing you did was look to Holm. Unsurprisingly, he was completely still by your side, eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open while he didn’t even shake or quiver.

Just do what you talked about. Transfer the mana as quickly as you can. You may have taken the latter half of that a bit too seriously judging by how, instead of taking his hand like you had during practice, you immediately reached for his face instead.

Only halfway through chanting the spell did you notice the slight tint on his cheeks, likely from embarrassment, and it took everything you had in you to continue the spell without stuttering from your own flustered state. After all, restarting the spell would take even longer, and that was pretty much the exact opposite of what was needed right now.

The second the spell had been completed, the both of you pulled away from one another, invigorated by both magic and embarrassment respectively. You heard Holm utter a quick thanks to you, but you were too busy feeling completely mortified by the way Kabru had just glanced at the two of you, seemingly more entranced by your interaction than the imminent peril you were dealing with.

You’d never hear the end of this, would you?

#ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ fallow’s works! #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi x reader #dungeon meshi imagines #delicous in dungeon #delicious in dungeon x reader #delicious in dungeon imagines #holm kranom #holm dungeon meshi #holm kranom x reader

[trans-cuchulainn]

hello and welcome to the niche corner

hello i'm néide and this is my blog, which mostly consists of me being grumpy about niche things. i have multiple degrees in medieval irish literature and while sometimes i use these to be vaguely educational, more often i use them to write incredibly specific fic about characters nobody else cares about, and this fic can be found on ao3 (for logged-in users)

so this is a guide to my incredibly specific fanfiction, which i feel also gives a reasonably good introduction to the kind of thing i'm likely to be yelling about on this blog

i am reliably informed that you don't actually need to know anything about the source material to have fun with these fics (or suffer from the angst), but also they can be more fun if you do. some have bibliographies/refs/explanations so i also know a few people have used them as a way to get started with medieval Irish lit which will never not be extremely funny to me

current WIP: chasing someone else's dream (16k, WIP): a cú chulainn/láeg reincarnation fic. they have been reincarnated, not for the first time. they've also been cursed, and thus, unlike in every life before this one, they've never met. ngl this fic contains some of the best prose i ever wrote, please read it

group chats of the ulster cycle, or, the in loco parentis series

a modern AU of the ulster cycle. sort of a college AU, turned into a ballet AU halfway through. consists of:

in loco parentis (135k, complete): my magnum opus. cú chulainn and láeg are university flatmates; group chats featuring all your favourite ulster cycle characters and also some you probably never gave a shit about; cú chulainn as a tiny trans ballet dancer and ferdia as his pas de deux partner; baking; everybody hating on conchobar; nobody dies; way more feelings about both ballet and shostakovich than anybody was expecting, including me; and much more. comes with explanatory notes / bibliography because i'm just Like That

getting the dee (9k, in progress/abandoned): a prequel to ILP, sort of a longes mac nuislenn fic except nobody dies and there are more sex toys. naoise/deirdre with guest appearances from conall. one day i'll go back to this but also i'm a coward

valentáin's day (4k oneshot, complete): a prequel to ILP, featuring láeg and cormac in the pub on valentine's day making fun of all their friends in relationships. they make out, fortunately their friendship survives the experience.

and when you move, i move (2.5k oneshot, complete): a sequel to ILP. just a horny lil cú chulainn/ferdia oneshot set a few months after ILP wraps up.

miscellaneous ulster cycle oneshots

i will be honest, most of these are sad fics of oidheadh con culainn ("the death of cú chulainn") because i just love writing angst, but there's a couple of others in there

to walk this world alone (6k): extremely niche fic featuring láeg after cú chulainn's death. some otherworldly happenings. sad but not as sad as it was originally going to be.

counterweight (3k): cú chulainn/láeg during oidheadh con culainn, anticipating cú chulainn's death. this one's pretty sad too.

dindsenchas (3.5k): missing scenes between cú chulainn and láeg during táin bó cúailnge. narrated by the landscape of ulster and addressed in second person to cú chulainn himself because the best sex scenes are the ones narrated by a tree.

in one dwelling place (2k): láeg/cú chulainn/emer. vaguely smutty, vaguely fluffy.

we'll say goodbye, today (2k): cú chulainn and láeg during oidheadh con culainn, anticipating cú chulainn's death. big sad hours.

glorious as the sunrise (3k): this is just angst. cú chulainn/láeg during oidheadh con culainn again. not particularly shippy but they love each other very much.

a marriage of inconvenience (3k): modern AU. cú chulainn wants to marry emer but unfortunately never bothered to get divorced after he married láeg for househunting purposes. a very silly fic.

of grief and glory (1.7k): cú chulainn deals with the aftermath of táin bó cúailnge, especially fer diad's death. more sad times lol.

flight risk (2.3k): teenage cú chulainn and láeg steal a spaceship. they get caught. fun scifi AU.

other medieval lit fics (non ulster cycle)

patron saint of toasties (2.5k): finn cycle fic. oisín took time out of uni to travel and now all his friends have graduated and he's lonely enough to text the christian union's "text a toastie" hotline. which is how he meets patrick. very silly modern AU gen fic mostly taking the piss out of st patrick

two birds of a feather (2.8k): yonec (marie de france) | togail bruidne da derga crossover fic. bird dad support group. conaire and yonec hang out and bond over their dads having maybe been birds. stupidest thing i ever wrote and i adore it.

quiver and shake (1.8k): fourth branch of the mabinogi fic. gwydion and gilfaethwy's special brotherly bonding time. canon typical content warnings apply.

other

absent thee from felicity (11k, WIP): hamlet | romeo & juliet crossover modern AU in which horatio and benvolio attempt to deal with the aftermath of their respective tragedies. sad at first, will gradually get sillier. haven't updated in a couple of years but that doesn't mean it's permanently abandoned, i'm just busy

if you've never read any of my fics before and are wondering where to start, i firmly believe the reincarnation fic (current WIP) is a good one because it has a solid mix of angst, shenanigans, and weird fuckery, so you can experience the tonal whiplash of the rest of my fics all in one place! but it is a WIP and i make zero promises about upload schedule, it happens when it happens, so not so good if you're impatient haha. plenty of others to get you started though

#my fic #medieval irish #ulster cycle

[rubenhopclap]

out of curiosity what's the moment being a hardcore Ruben stan really clicked for you

Really good question, thank you for asking.

I enjoyed when he was onscreen, even on first watch, but that's not exceptional. Brennan does great voices etc, he's a very funny presence, but all this can apply to Gertie, or a billion other NPCs. His art is so huggable, but that wouldn't be it on its own.

He kept growing on me slowly every time I went back through scenes to fact check and he was there. Even when we actually had the episode where we found out about Jace's involvement in his life and the confrontation with Henry, I got more engaged with his character but I wouldn't say I reached my full tipping point quite yet.

But what happened was, there were a couple posts where people thought it might be a trick, and that Henry was being inappropriate. Jace snapped because he was under stress, but ultimately he wasn't wrong in telling Henry to butt out, kind of thing.

I don't want to shame anyone for having that idea, it's a mystery season and I think it's normal and fine to reach for possibilities that stretch what's likely sometimes. But ya know, I went back through the scene to double-check my memories, and get the quote about Jace saying that he didn't even read all of Henry's concerns. (Which I feel like made Jace pretty clearly Wrong in that scene, even if he had turned out to just be a shitty teacher/administrator and not Ankarna-connected.)

And as I was again going back through his scenes and he kept growing on me, I was making more posts about him and realizing how few other people were posting about him in the tag. I got to thinking about it, like

"well hang on, we have this character with a great design. he's presented a lot like the emo equivalent of Zayn's caricature of gothness in season one. they've already investigated and found out he doesn't have a history of being toxic to anyone even though he's famous now and has the opportunities. and we just got huge evidence that the 'maybe some of the RGs are being manipulated and actually fine' that people wanted for Oisin in particular might actually be true for him."

and my first instinct was to check myself and go like "well remember just bc you're super invested in small NPCs doesn't mean anyone else would be, he's actually very minor and has little screentime-HANG ON A MINUTE. he's had more screentime than any other Rat Grinder! So then why-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" And idk something about this kid who had more people going "maybe his uncle is evil for trying to protect him" than "oh damn we just found out he needs to be protected" made me go you know what. if nobody else is gonna take this corner of fandom than somebody gotta

And I rolled up my sleeves.

#fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #ruben hopclap #rat grinders

[pandalexoxo]

OKAY BEAR WITH ME Y’ALL. I HAVEN’T PLAYED THE GAME SO I’M JUST GOING OFF OF SOME TIRED OLD MAN TROPES.

FRANCIS MOSES x READER

also, i haven’t written down any of my rules, but i don’t have any limits! i’ll write whatever requests people send me! whatever your dark mind can think of will be my pleasure to create!

i don’t mind if you’re not 18+, since, if i ever do make smut i’ll just label it as 18+ and TRUST that 18+ ONLY will read. you all have probably seen, but i’ve just written about my thoughts of different fandoms so far so there’s no 18+ posts YET. (maybe i’ll make this account SFW and do another for NSFW? idk, i normally post on other platforms but randomly decided to give tumblr a try lol)

as a NM/trans man myself, i TRY to keep my readers gender neutral by not really describing the characters features. hard on TRY bc i know the last blurb fic i made of dead plate was Rody x Male Reader lol, oopsies! anywhooo, enjoy~!

WARNINGS! doppleganger mention, possible unconsciousness, possible death, possible unfunny dialogue (bc sometimes i’m the only one who finds me hilarious lmfao), you’re kinda a baddie ngl, you and Francis are besties, Francis is a cat lover?! Francis is a tired old man who hates technology. phone mentioned despite the first wireless phone being made 23 years after the story takes place (use your imagination) uhhh, anything else i forget? comment below!

Francis let out a long sigh of relief, taking his cap off with one hand, using the other to dab away at his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. Upon seeing the exhausted man, you can’t help but smile softly, shaking your head as you get ready to scold him, once again. You cross your arms, looking at him through the window with a playful disappointed glare.

“mhm mhm, what do we have here? you really should be getting more sleep, mr. milkman, your eyes are starting to sport their own eye bags.”

with this comment, Francis shakes his head but is unable to stop the small, yet tired smile on his face. he bends down to place the crate of milk jugs onto the floor before handing over his ID card. you hum, narrowing your eyes when Francis doesn’t give into your whims. you eye his card, glancing at it a few times before slipping it back to him with a chuckle.

Francis’s eyebrow raises in confusion at your reaction but ends up shaking his head, rolling his eyes playfully and sighing softly. he places his cap back on his head and huffs, deeming your reaction as a go ahead inside.

“now… what if i was a doppelganger? you aren’t even going to call my room to check if someone is there? such a reliable doorman we have.”

despite Francis’s playful tone, your grin slips into a frown as you study Francis from behind the glass. this causes him to tense up, suddenly feeling nervous, like he did something wrong. you hum, tilting your head into your palm as you seemingly analyze Francis for a little while before deciding to speak.

“what’s up brother?”

Francis blinks a few times in surprise, his head tilting in confusion at your question. His eyes narrow as he thinks about the question you asked.

“what’s… up… brother…?”

Francis looks up at the ceiling, taking your question to heart. upon seeing nothing on the ceiling, Francis can only shake his head and sigh at your antics.

“are you done with your tomfoolery, (Y/n)? i’m quite exhausted and would like to go up to my room and rest.”

you can only shake your head, clasping your hands together like a disappointed father getting ready to discuss their kids grades at the dinner table. you begin to explain.

“when Francis first walks in here, he always forgets one of three things… his keys, his hate or the crate of milk. you came in here, although exhausted, you seemed put together, unlike Francis, who is clearly going through a midlife crisis. Francis will then ask me about my cat, well, because he’s a cat person, though he insists no one knows. oh, and, Francis’s home phone has been broken for the past few days and is actually at the store, right now. so, Francis being here so soon, isn’t possible. that, and, well, Francis never understands my references, but indulges me anyway… anything else i forgot, doppelganger?”

you bat your eyelashes, smirking from behind the window like you just cracked down the traitor in your group. with each statement, Francis’s doppelgänger’s face becomes visibly more and more angry until the doppelganger begins to completely change: black eyes with white pupils, a wide and eerie black mouth, adorned with long and sharp claws on the end of the doppleganger’s elongated limbs.

“you… you’ll regret this… i will get in one day and get my feast, starting with you. i’ll gut you, keep you alive so you can watch your organs fall out of your body and your blood splatter against-! *CLANK! BAM! PLINK!*”

before the doppelganger could finish his fantasy, much to your amusement, the doppleganger’s body tenses upon being struck before crumpling to the floor after becoming unconscious. you look up from the doppleganger’s body to see the real Francis hovering above the possibly dead doppelganger. you shrug, knowing that you wouldn’t have to call DDD services to take care of the mess, now you just have to clean up the body.

“mmm… tuesday… tuesday…? did i get that right?”

you hold back a chuckle at Francis’s response to your last question. you can only nod, letting Francis have the win this time. pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing, a loud laugh bubbles up from your throat as the two of you realized what Francis had hit the doppelganger with.

“ngh… i just bought this phone, damnit… his hard head must have broken it.”

#tnmn #tnmn milkman #tnmn fanfic #tnmn francis mosses #tnmn x reader #tnmn x male reader #that’s not my neighbor x male reader #that’s not my neighbor x reader #francis mosses x male reader #francis mosses x reader #doppleganger #d.d.d

[embarasseddragon234]

I think it's very important that we understand that Papyrus is a jokester

Like, "Oh, Papyrus doesn't know what a laboratory is!" "Papyrus thinks snow cones and snow are the same thing!" "Papyrus is LYING about-" NO!

He is a JOKESTER! He is making funny jokes and japes! He is just as much a funnyman as his brother! He's saying outlandish things ON PURPOSE to make you laugh!

#one of the few character things that actually gets to me sometimes #Papyrus #papyrus meta #kinda #Undertale #just because he doesnt outright SAY hes joking complete with rimshot like sans doesn't mean he ISNT #let him be funny on purpose #admittedly from what i can tell #this isnt as bad as it used to be #or im just only following people who agree with me #one or the other #it still gets to me a little when I see it

[icewindandboringhorror]

sneeping with his legs up over his head for some reason... weird boye

#cats #love the second picture... skrungly sleepy well rested boye face... #since he's an elderly boy now sometimes when he wakes up from a nap he looks a bit scruffy and squinty eyed #Hard to beleive he's like 15 though.. he still looks like a kitten to me.. due to his giant round creature eyes and childlike demeanor #I think it's interesting that like... baby cats are babies. kittens are kittens. and you can tell a cat is like 'young adult' phase #looking from like a few months to maybe 1yr or 2yrs.. but after that they just always look the same to me #a 5 yr old cat is a 10 yr old cat is a 15 year old cat. unless the cat in question is particulalry aged or youthful #I still have so so little energy... it's been icy here this week. like not even FUN but just scary icy even thoguh i lOOOVE the cold #and its my favorite weather. I think it'd be okay actually if I had a woodburning stove/fireplace/hearth thing. literally thats my only #concern with the power going out. I genuinely don't mind stuff like having to go to the bathroom in buckets or cook over a fire or do other #less conveninet things. Its just that if eveyrhtng is electric then you have no way to cook and all of that. well.. and I literally need #background noise to go to sleep lest my ocd sprials become so loud I am slowly driven into maddness.. but a few battery packs or something #and a phone with one downloaded video I could play on repeat is fine for that. I dont need internet. ANYWAY.. so so sad that my fav #orite season ever (winter) is here. and the first cold of the winter is like... just an ice storm that you cant even walk in. I #love like 4 feet of snow where you can play in it and stuff. But just a thin flat sheet of a few inches of ice over every imaginable surfac #is not really playable. the wind speeds are so high and so many trees fall it's actually not that safe to go hang out outside anyway unless #you were in a totally clear open field. which is SAD also because i love ice and high winds. i love to stand out there and get whipped in t #he face with ice crystals and feel like I'm in some dramatic movie or something. but alas.. the threat of being attacked by a falling tree. #I did go out some but again it's like. literallyyou cant walk on it. so I just squatted and dragged myself along the ground lol #One of my stories has a whole section where the main characters are trapped in a deadly cold environment for a week and have to use magic #to survive and etc. etc. so I'm always like.. ouuu.. I should go in the ice.. it's Writing Research actually.. *foolishly gets frostbite* #THOUGH yesterday I went on a harrowing evil journey down a bunch of icy hilly roads to go check on some person's cat because the cat #had been left in the house for like 5 days at that point with nobody to check on them and nobody else seemed to want to do anything #about it (like call all of the neighbors or try to get someone out there) so I just went myself with a roommate who agreed to drive me. #It seemed acting totally normal and I gave it more food and water but.. I am still worried about it.. Apparently the person will be able #to get back to their house tomorrow but.. I dont trust them. But I couldnt take the cat with me because it's like.. a stranger's cat #basically and also no carrier + very skittish.. so I feared if I just tried to carry them bare handed they'd definitely leap from my grasp #and then it'd be like.. sliding on a sheet of ice chasing a cat and so on.. I still think they need to be watched for health issues tho >:| #ANYWAY.... many cat adventures lately... and strange weather... I wish for a normal week without always so many Things Happening.. augh

[howlinghound11]

eepy

With and without a filter lol

#ok here it is lol #dan vs #this is the new thing i been on for a few weeks lol #anyway i just liked my sketch so much that i had to color it and make it pretty #sleepy dan and mr mumbles #mr mumbles is just like purrin like an engine rn #also slight headcanons i guess #dan just gives off such strong transmasc vibes that i have to remind myself that its not canon lol #and even tho hes not drawn with scars i just know he'd be covered in them he gets hurt like so much yk #i actually forgot to give him a lip scar which i like to do with characters sometimes #anyway #i was gonna put a kinda blueish filter to make it look more like night but i didn't find one i liked so went with the dark edge one #me #my posts #my arts #dan mandel #dan vs mr mumbles #dan vs revival #i dont remember what else i was gonna say #i mean i could tag something else but #no i shan't #lol

[abyssruler]

Sagau w/ an impostor would be so simple with me because the characters can easily tell the fake apart from the real

Mostly because the fake would probably be graceful n shit

Meanwhile the real one keeps picking up every single sweet flower, wandering around to random places and quietly walking past sleeping hilichurls because it'd be rude to wake them up!

Like the characters would have to put up w/ me cooing at the sleeping, snoring hilichurls 😭 like no way am I waking them up

No but really, I can't even ambush the sleeping once, if I need to kill them I at least wake them up before the fight akdhsksj

the thing is that the characters don’t really know what the (creator?) is like, so even if you and the imposter were entirely different people, it’d be difficult to see who’s real and who’s fake because, well, they don’t know you as a person. in fact, because the fake is so graceful and all, people would be more likely to think that they’re the real one.

though because i’m a sucker for drama, i think there’d be factions throughout teyvat, rallying behind you or the fake. some believe that the fake is real simply because they’re more elegant and ‘god-like’ in appearance, so to speak, all intimidating presence and authoritative voice. others believe you’re the real one because only the true god would be so in tune with nature and compassionate with all living beings, benevolent and empathetic and all the good parts that make you human. tho the humanity you have also serves as a double edged sword because it places you down the pedestal of what they think a god should be.

among the archons, the ones i see rallying behind you are venti and nahida. as for the imposter, it’d be zhongli and ei. (though i imagine zhongli would soon see through the fake simply because of how old and knowledgable he is.)

also, you’re a better person than me anon bc i don’t discriminate between sleeping and awake hilichurls. if i see one, i’m immediately throwing hands.

#i like the concept of sagau but sometimes it gets a bit much #also i wish the fandom chose a different name for this trope because self-aware genshin au (sagau) doesn’t fit in this genre anymore #i mean sure it’s what initially kickstarted the whole creator thing but yknow the actual self-aware genshin aus became few and far between- #because of it #that’s really the only gripe about this trope #scratch that there’s one other thing #it’s the over dramatic villainy of the characters when it comes to imposter aus #i mean sure they’d be devoted to the imposter but i don’t think they’d be so needlessly cruel #it just takes away from their character #but it’s all well and good because we’re all allowed to write what we want #this is just an opinion of mine #if anyone reads this mwah send me more asks about my thoughts on sagau bc i love talking about my opinions #genshin sagau #genshin x reader #asks

[orokay]

I think one of my faaaavorite parts of doing commissions is seeing all of the art the commissioner sends for references. SO MUCH incredible gorgeous art that they've received from past commissions or drawn themselves and it's really amazing!! And seeing their characters interpreted in different styles!! I love it so much!!

#what's super super fun is when someone who has commissioned you before and has commissioned other people since comes back #and you see your own art in their references #and sometimes can pick out things the artists who have been commissioned since got from your piece #i super want to shout out voidwife who commissioned me to do two outfit lineups a few months ago and gave me a lot of freedom w/ the design #i loooove looking in her commissions tag and seeing the way other artists draw the outfits i designed it's so exciting #feeling sappy again i get sappy before bed #sleep well everyone!!! #not art #dl #actually not done yet not just art but also incredible characters in general #every oc has SO MUCH love put into them and i always feel so fortunate that people entrust their babies with me #i get to see such a wide range of designs and get to learn a little bit about each one and it's really amazing i can't take that for grante

[13eyond13]

one of the lesser talked about fun things about intentionally reading more books is finding new stuff to be a bit of a hater about tbh

#and i know sometimes im probably just not properly picking up whatever the writer is putting down but whatever it's still fun #to actually know what you think about stuff like the highly regarded classics and extremely popular hyped up things #here are a few writers im a bit of a hater about w my opinions now btw #neil gaiman: does not do it for me at alllll #have read the graveyard book and american gods and hated almost every minute of both #in american gods i just found the aesthetic ideas and characters completely unappealing and in the graveyard book #i thought it was dreary and not well described enough... kept feeling like it was too bare bones in some way to picture things properly #i was like 'hmm i wish this was one of his graphic novels instead bc i'd like to be able to see what's going on here a bit better...' #also his humour just never lands for me and i do not often get his references either #ray bradbury annoys me in a similar way to neil gaiman but also somewhat oppositely like where #the way they write characters and plots and ideas and the stuff they care about gets on my nerves in an almost identical way #that i don't know how to define except to say i had a bit of a 'same energy' experience reading Something Wicked This Way Comes #and some of neil gaiman's stuff #but unlike neil gaiman i think that ray bradbury attempts to describe things unusually so much and TOO much #to the point that it takes me out of the story in a different yet similar way #to how the lack of description in neil gaiman's stuff does #what else have i become a bit of a hater about or did not get the appeal of lately? hmmm #oh hp lovecraft hahahaha #least scary stories ever god everything he's scared of is so dumb #like even aside from his extremely racist takes and fear of the 'exotic other' his fears about being cosmically insignificant are just like #yeah and? whats so scary about that hahaha i literally just dont get it #also the amount he writes dialogue in heavy accents annoys the shit out of me #p

[certifiedwerewolf]

I've been watching Sophomore Year (as I said) and it's really reminding me why I was so glad when we started Junior Year to find out that Kristen and Tracker had broken up, because that entire relationship storyline is so fucking annoying. Like I don't know if I've mentioned or not that I find Kristen really annoying in general, but it turns out Tracker, in conjunction with Kristen, is also annoying.

#tracker sometimes has this vibe of like #'i'm going to say the thing kristen needs to hear but doesn't want to' and like #one who is she to decide what kristen needs to hear #and two she will then get annoyed at kristen for not reacting well to it #like the relationship arc went from their entire relationship being about their extremely public sex lives #to being them just fighting a lot because #as near as i can tell #kristen didn't immediately tell tracker about sandra lynn cheating on jawbone? #even though she did a few hours later? and there was literally so much going on? #kristen was literally like 'i wanted to talk to sandra lynn first and then i wasn't sure how to tell you and then a lot of stuff happened' #and tracker is like 'actually you didn't tell me because of this huge flaw in you as a person and now you're in the metaphorical doghouse' #and kristen is just meekly agreeing with her and she STILL makes kristen into a bad person!! #and it's so annoying because those might be flaws kristen has but they aren't at play in THIS situation #do you know how annoying it is that people keep being right about a character who annoys me but wrong about how that flaw applies? #forcing me to defend the character to them in my head? #worst character trait ever o/1o

[undermostcorgi]

the media which consumes your entire soul at age 12 will forever be a part of you. this is an unavoidable consequence of living and you have to accept this fact. no matter how old you get, no matter how long it has been since you last saw its smug face peeking out from the bushes as it follows you, no matter if you think you have outrun it for good and that you're finally finally safe and you hardly even remember it exists anymore and your brain knows a few brief moments of true peace, it WILL catch up to you in your moment of weakness. and listen you don't want to hear this but sometimes this is necessary for your mental health. you will on instinct want to reject it and run away again but sometimes. sometimes you just need to watch that old show or listen to that silly song or read that weird book again as an adult and it will hurt you a little bit in various little ways but it will also heal you a little bit. you can call it nostalgia you can call it connecting with your inner child or whatever you want but just listen to me it WILL HAPPEN TO YOU TOO AT SOME POINT AND YOU HAVE TO BE PREPARED FOR THIS (i am forcibly dragged off the stage by security)

#heed my warning boy #it seems i am not well today #recently made the reluctant decision to revisit what was probably my VERY FIRST real hyperfixation #something that i don't necessarily want to mention by name right now because. well #its pretty objectively bad LOL like i dont think i know of ANYONE still posting about it or really proud of having liked it back in the day #i dont think it is as well known to the general public so it wont get me hunted down for sport even if i did name it probably hopefully #but for those who know its. probably not the best thing to be revisiting lmao (even though i think it might still be being made?? wtf) #but i felt i had to because i was about to start my period and was going crazy insane like you do you know how it is #and i randomly remembered a fanfic i loved and then remembered my fav character and how much i loved him #my actual first ever blorbo oh my GOD he was everything to me #so i reluctantly decided to rewatch “just the first few episodes” just to see how much i remembered and also to prove to myself it sucks #but surprise surprise: nostalgia and hormones are making me actually kind of enjoy it #and now i am suffering from fucking Catholic-like Guilt for not hating it which i think is pretty silly lmao #so im kind of posting this in an attempt to convince myself that its like. FINE and cringe is dead and all that #and that sometimes i gotta be nice to my little mentally ill brain and give it the junk food (bad media) it craves #ESPECIALLY when im on my period LMAO #anyway completely unrelated: why the FUCK do i still remember almost every single fucking word to the delicious tomato song SDHJFKSAJF #i hope no one actually reads this far in the tags bc i know that reveal will probably deal psychological damage to some of you LMAO SORRYYY #ok yeah posting this and then immediately going to bed so that the Haters cant reach me LOL SEE YA

[meringuejellyfish]

oh my goodness freckles 😭

#i go back and forth on whether or not i give tetia freckles but i had no idea they were actually present in concept art #so wild how none of the apprentices have anything of the sort. #thats sort of just a thing with character design is people just do not quite consider casual facial details like freckles and moles for one #reason or another #at the very least characters get scars but like. it has to be a big story thing or relate to their character in some way #which makes sense because character designs are all about communicating information but still would it hurt to give characters #moles just for the sake of giving a character moles. does everyone have to have a clear face #also wheres the rep for people who ran into a bench when they were 4 and still have a dent on their face? (me #dont even get me started on noses. why does every child have to have a button nose with a select few adults sometimes getting a more #prominent nose. drives me crazy #especially because kamome is very capable of drawing interesting noses (i think about this one docter lady all the time) and its like okay #if the apprentices had different noses id be forever happy. #allisters atelier