#whoops I tagged this anon out of habit at first

[mini-games]

...It's so quiet.

[You hear a disembodied voice start speaking upon entering.]

Hello? Do you know where Mini went? They said they were going on a quick walk, but it's been hours and they haven't returned.

...Don't be frightened. I am the old Mini-Game Lobby owner. Though it seems I might have to start working again if I don't find Mini soon... (Below the cut are tags and other extra info!)

tags:

MINI-GAME RELATED TAGS: mini-game (used for posted mini-games)

scavenger hunt mg (used for the scavenger hunt mini-games)

arena games mg (used for arena games mini-games)

hide 'n' go seek mg (used for hide 'n' go seek mini-games)

user-submitted mini-game (used for mini-games made by you)

not a mini-game (non-mini-game posts)

CHARACTER RELATED TAGS: ooc speaking (posts where I speak out of character)

mini speaks (anything where I'm just talking)

mini speaks? (in character text, but I'm not really talking.)

minis art (my art!)

!mini fanart (fanart of mini! thank you so much :D)

!cat shenanigans (interactions with npcat)

!mini lore (mini (character) lore things)

!terro lore (terro lore things)

tag!anon (the anon with a bad connection in which there text seems to be cut out at times. turns out it was just hashbang-mods)

song lyrics anon (the anons that speak in only song lyrics to tell the others what's going on)

LORE SEGMENTS: sun blackout (the predicament where the sun was extinguished and it was definitely not caused by me at all (<- lie)

ice arc (the period of time during the sun blackout/sun saga where the ice people came and infected me. very roleplay.)

interrobang war (the war that was unfairly waged against the interrobangs)

gnome armada (an armada [fleet of warships] of gnomes thats happening. seems the gnomes have beef with mini and nef.)

status god arc (the time status obtained the power of the developers)

minis mourning (mini mourning the loss of terro during status god arc)

status two arc (the aftermath of defeating status with a double kungpowpenis)

leftover ice (arc) (mini's scars from the sun incident are colder and more painful than ever.)

prison break arc (mini breaks out of prison and has nowhere to hide. seems there are people in the library that are fairly friendly.)

carrion arc (other people call it "scream arc." im calling it carrion arc because its mini's first experience of carrion.)

plus-minus-contingency arc (plus minus is trying to "purify" the world except he's really bad at it.)

mini's rage (some anons informed mini that plus minus has severely hurt terro. they are Not Happy.)

the STATUS is DEAD (arc) (kunpowpenis times 10. y. yeah.)

frozen 2 arc (mini gets turned into an ice person again.)

MISCELLANEOUS TAGS: important (important posts. please look through these tags!)

kung pppp (oops.)

moon arc (my silly hermitcraft season 8 reference that got taken seriously and it almost turned into real lore. whoops.)

other info: I have never run a gimmick account before I do not know what I am doing. Making this blog was a very impulsive decision on my end, but I'm willing to see where it goes!

My main is @shiningnightstars

Update: I canNOT keep up with all the lore tags and such. I will miss things I am so sorry. On top of that, if I'm speaking in tags then that is CONFIRMED out of character.

Also, if any post needs to be tagged, PLEASE inform me! I tags things as "tw (subject)" Things I will not tag (and why):

colored text (part of the gimmick is the colored text. sorry, I won't be tagging every single post! your warning is right here.)

swearing/cursing/profanity (I won't be swearing, however the others do swear a lot and I don't feel like tagging every instance of that.)

caps (I use caps a lot and I don't want to tag just my regular speaking habits if im constantly posting with them!)

Have a great day!

Mini design:

(UPDATE - JANUARY 26: This design is slightly outdated due to the latest arc. If you need a more current design, please DM me or send in an ask!)

#not a mini-game #epprbcu #ooc speaking #games speaks

[greenhikingboots]

heyo!! I'm not sure if you've already answered this because I don't have Tumblr and I keep getting blocked by the log in wall whenever I scroll too far. But why did you delete your old AO3 account and works? Where you getting bullied 😰 I know the jonsa ship and Sansa specifically is well hated...

Hey, anon. I haven't answered that before, so I'll give it a go now. I think it's neat that you're interested. I haven't had any issues with bullying apart from a few random comments on AO3 that were less about Jonsa and more about my writing choices. Whoops. I tagged that fic as a fix but still let Rickon die? My bad. I didn't realize I was supposed to anticipate the preferences of that one specific reader and not do that. *eye roll* That's just one example, but despite my snarkiness about it right now that kind of stuff doesn't actually bother me too much. It is what it is. So anyway. I deleted my old account more because I wasn't satisfied with my work, wasn't finding fulfillment in writing as a hobby anymore, realized I cared more than I wanted to about kudos and comments -- yeah, that kind of stuff. But mostly I felt a lot of self-inflected pressure to post updates quickly. And so my speed became too much a measure of my sense of self-worth. Lame. I took a break for a while, but I'm back to writing now with a healthier mindset. (Though, let's be honest, I still want those damn kudos!) If you don't already know, my new AO3 name is GreenHikingBoots. Since I write for both Jonsa and Dramione, I wanted a name that wasn't fandom specific. And I like the color green and I do a lot of hiking IRL. So there you go. Oh, I should probably clarify that everything I have published under that new name, apart from my current Jonsa WIP called Inevitable, was previously published on my old account (though edits have been made). Most of that is Dramione, though. Also, that isn't to say every old fic has been re-published. Two of my more popular works -- For Better Dreams (Jonsa) and Between the Lines (Dramione) -- are still in my Google Doc and will hopefully get re-published in the future. I'm working my way through shorter fic ideas first. For what it's worth, compared to how I used to do it, I now have firmer plot plans and more detailed first drafts before I start publishing. And I give more author's notes warning that updates may take a while. And those factors go a long way in helping me maintain this hobby in an enjoyable way. Basically, these days, I'm into slow and steady wins the race. Oh, come to think of it! Here's another thing I should have said sooner: major shout out to the Jonsa fanfic writers who take their sweet time publishing updates and the readers who are understanding of that. I didn't see that as much in the Dramione fandom, but I think seeing it here helped relieve a lot of my anxieties. I think that's about all I got on the topic. I'm not going to say TL;DR. But a summation? I'll try. Here goes: Fandom and fanfiction writing is supposed to be fun, not feel like work! I took some time away because I hadn't internalized that. I've since developed some better habits and saw some good examples of people who had internized the message, and that helped. Now I'm back and enjoying writing more than before. Yay! Thanks anon. This turned into a really rewarding thing to write about. Hope you don't mind me getting all philosophical. ;)

#ask northernlady #who is also greenhikingboots #and was dakotadelcour if you're a dramione fan #not an identity crisis #just like jonsa to much to stop using this tumblr #and start using my greenhikingboots one #which was the plan at one point

[maybeeatspaghetti]

vintage, rain, sweaters

Vintage - favorite decade?

The 1970s, definitely! I know a bit about gay culture in NYC in the 70s. Did you know that the location of the 8th Avenue burger joint Shake Shack used the be the site of a gay porn theater and, later, a sex shop? Whenever I’ve been to Shake Shack, it’s kind of like this big secret—I feel like I’m probably the only one who knows that where people are eating, men used to have sex on the floor of that theater. Not that you wanted to know this, and I’ve gotten kind of off-track from just answering the question; I just find it very interesting. But now, if you ever go to Shake Shack, you can be in on the secret.

Rain - favorite type of weather?

Cloudy and warm.

Sweaters - what's your go to fall outfit?

Jeans and a sweater is probably what I wear most often. Sometimes I’ll fight the weather and pretend it’s warmer than it is and wear t-shirts into December. And then I complain about how cold I am. 

#asks #unofficialthespianlesbian #whoops I tagged this anon out of habit at first #sorry!

[nafeary]

Napoleon, Theodorus, and le Comte’s Reaction to MC saying “I love you” first

Anon asked:

Hey there! I really like all the stuff on your blog, so could you do the suitors reactions to you saying I love you for the first time (like, if the route plots didn’t really happen). If all of them are too much, maybe just Napoleon, Theo and Comte. Maybe also include a little scenario? Thanks in advance.

✧✎ A/N: Heya, sweetest anon! Thank you so much for this request (and for including three of the daddy line), this was really fun to do~

Theo’s got... slightly longer than the others (almost a whole scenario by itself whoops). Don’t worry Napoleon. I have a WIP of yours. Thanks @juminly and @delicateikemenmemes for helping me out with Theo, and @marie-quentin for giving me a quick crash course in French. Drink water, y’all :))))

Warnings: slight suggestiveness, and implied sexual activities.

Napoleon Bonaparte

Pardon? Could you run that by him again?

It had been a morning like any other, welcoming the culprit who’d come to wake him up with his wonted kisses

However, this time around, he hadn’t met an interfering hand—which was by far his favored option. The other ones entailed pillows, fists, and even a certain someone’s foil

So when he met lips, molding together with his like a familiar imprint, he immediately shook off his fatigue, surprised to see his lover before him

His astonishment didn’t stem from the kiss itself (as you’ve done way more than just that), but you’ve never indulged in his habit before

Not only that, but it felt so much more...

Intimate. Passionate. Amorous...

Romantic. Purely romantic.

Your hands rose to his cheeks, cupping them in an ever so gentle embrace. Feeling almost weightless within your gentle expression, he sighed in the intimate comfort only one’s other half could provide.

“‘Leon?” The most idyllic melody made his eyes open, blinking a few times to adjust to the sun’s flaxen rays. He had to halt a few moments, for as his eyes managed to adjust, the golden glow hugging your form truly made you appear out of this world.

“Yes, nunuche?” Your loving and tender gaze almost made him melt, and it was a miracle that his question sounded as nonchalant as he was hoping for it to be.

“I love you.”

Napoleon couldn’t help the pounding of his heart. In all his years, no one had ever managed to make him feel so precious. Of course, he’s had his previous lovers, but as you stood before him like an angel of fortune, holding his head up in a pretense of it being the most wondrous diamond...

He couldn’t help the laughter spilling from his lips. At your affronted expression, he pulled you to his side, your cheek squished against his neck. Closing your eyes against his laughter’s shock waves—tens on the Richter scale—you couldn’t prevent the pout from conquering face.

Napoleon halted his laughter, although not completely, and his arms cocooned your midriff to lean in. Your toes curled as his lips brushed your ear.

“Je t’adore, nunuche.”

Theodorus Van Gogh

You might have to bring him to Isaac or Leonardo to fix, because you’ve completely broken this guy

He always expected to say it first, so he’s kinda mad??? But also really touched??? Fix him, please

It was no secret that Theodorus Van Gogh considered himself to be very domineering

Not because he wants the other person to feel save and protected... it was simply due to convenience pssst don’t tell him

Of course, he found it more than endearing when his girlfriend took the leash from time to time, and he genuinely enjoys her initiations of affection

Everyday, it took Theo all the self control he could muster up not to break into a smile at the sight of you, not to pick you up and whirl you around, not to throw you over his shoulder to carry you to his room...

Anyway, if you were to tell him the famous three words first, he’d be pure molasses in your hands

“Do you need more syrup, Theo?”

While the amount of liquid gold suggested the attendance of the entire mansion, it was only himself and his lover at breakfast. You had risen later than usual (due to certain nightly activities), and Sebastian was so kind as to allow you a day off.

“We’ll see,” he murmured, nevertheless thanking you when you brought him more with a disbelieving snort.

As you ate breakfast in the kitchen, not wanting to bother yourselves with setting everything up in the dining hall, he did not let your “inconspicuous” array of glances go unnoticed. Whenever he caught your eyes, you’d quickly avert your own, a faint blush dusting your skin. Perplexity marred his mind at your bashful actions.

Just when you stood up to do the dishes, he grabbed your arm, turning you around to trap you successfully underneath his form. Bewildered, you squirmed in his grasp, but that only made him pin your wrists in place. While this might not be your first time in this particular position, you could still only huff at his stern expression. “What did I do now? Do you always have to—“

“Quit your yapping, Hondje. Is there something on my face, or why do you keep on staring at me?” he spoke, as blunt and stoic as ever.

You chastised yourself— should have been aware that nothing could escape his detail-oriented eyes. Nonetheless, there was something... disparate about this morning: the hushed words of devotion, the warmth of nonchalant pecks—dare you say, it was almost domestic. It caused feelings of joy and felicity to ignite in your chest, and a certain sentence to cross your mind.

“...I love you, Theo.”

It was apparent that he’d been caught off-guard, a hand flying up to cover a short fit of coughing. And as his grip on you faltered, you flung your arms around his neck, urged by both embarrassment and closure.

“Y—you. Gadver...”

“Have I rendered the great Theodorus Van Gogh speechless?” You couldn’t help the teasing remark; eager to see his flushed expression, you peeled yourself out of the embrace. However, just as swift as he had faltered, his iron grip on you toughened once again, this time around closing the proximity to an intimate distance.

“Have you finally lost what little sense you had before?” His tone’s giddiness betrayed the harshness of his words, despite his best attempts to suppress that. As you tried to focus on anything apart from his breath caressing your neck, you espied the brilliant blush raging on his cheeks.

Deciding not to comment on his obvious joy, you pressed a kiss to his collarbone. “Don’t you have to punish me, then? I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder.”

When you pulled back to look at you love, you were met with his wild cerulean orbs. You’ve heard of people comparing them to ice, but you likened them to the tropic’s water; it might look trifling at most, but once you dive in, it would tell tales of colourful facets. Just like a big misunderstanding, crying out to be revealed.

You couldn’t care less that you were in the kitchen, that anyone could walk in on you, as he pulled you closer to himself, your legs finding their way around his waist.

Comte de Saint-Germain

He’d definitely be shocked at first, widening his eyes at your forthcoming admittance

After all, these three words might seem minuscule to a lot, but they held enough power to truly cement a relationship

Whenever he looked at his chérie, he felt the need to tell them to you 24/7, but he reconsidered that it was only right to give you more time to grow accustomed to him (and his period)

After a few months of living together, and a solitary trip back to the past (which proved itself vain as his offer was declined once again), he resolved to tell her these fateful words

He heard his amour before he saw her, the sound of your steps hurrying down the staircase growing more and more pronounced. Ere he was able to turn around to greet you, you practically pounched onto him, fingers clasping by his waist as you embraced him from behind. You squeezed his middle section gently in an effort to breathe in his scent.

Shock subsiding, he enbosomed your hands with his own, having missed your warmth—your devotion—as it crowned him with more than the sun could ever wish to.

“I have something—“

“—to tell you.”

Both of you spoke up at the same time, prompting you to smile in delight. Hearing composed, albeit joyful, laughter spilling from your lover’s lips, followed by the incessant remark of ladies-first, you uttered the words you have been longing to say, “I love you.”

The gentle rising of his torso came to a sudden halt, and he twisted around to face you. He might not have been gone for too long, but you’d missed each other regardless.

You knew the feeling was mutual as his golden eyes burned with desire, his walls coming down bit by bit, exposing a rare sight of the count’s vulnerability. With his hands inching just above your lower hip, the not so innocent innuendo of their barely proper distance to your butt was duly noted.

“I’ve been hoping to tell you these words myself, ma moitié.” His mouth traced the shell of your ear, and you felt him smile against your skin—as gentle as flower petals, yet just as seductive. “Perhaps we could arrange my reciprocation in private?”

Tag list: @juminly, @kisara-16 (I totally forgot that you asked me to be tagged quite a while ago... I’m sorry (*´Д｀*))

#ikemen vampire #ikemen series #ikevamp #ikemen headcanons #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen napoleon #ikevam napoleon #ikemen theodorus #ikemen theo #ikemen le comte #ikemen comte #ikevam theodorus #ikevam theo #ikevam le comte #ikevam comte #napoleon #theodorus van gogh #comte de saint germain #ikemen vampire headcanons #ikemen vampire fanfiction

[fytheuntamed]

Today is the one year anniversary of this blog! I still remember how nervous I was to make it, unsure if anyone would even find it in the sea of other blogs, and now here we are! One year later and all of you have brought me so much happiness anytime you reblog, like, comment, send asks, send messages, use my tag, etc! It makes me very happy to be a part of this little corner of tumblr and I just have to say that you guys are some of the funniest and sweetest people I have ever seen in a fandom. Also, the talent?? You guys are constantly inspiring me with your creations and I know I’m not the only one.

Please check out the faq if you have any questions and please continue to interact with this blog to your heart’s content ❤️

I’m also planning on doing a prompt event in the fall, so please check out that post here and let me know your thoughts!

I’m also going to be posting and replying to a whole bunch of asks that I’ve received over the....months (whoops!) under the read more. (if you have an ask that i answered, i’ll @ you below)

@yllylia​, @lan-xichens​, @fabfuckingfour​, @vexingcosmos​, @felinesomnambulist​, @nikosomething​, @thirdofjune​, @briee-elle​, and a whole bunch of anons!

I tend to not publish asks like this so as not to spam this blog’s followers with unrelated content, but know that I see them and that they make me very happy ❤️❤️❤️

thank you so much!! i haven’t made a new wardrobe edit in a while due to how time consuming they are to make, but i will definitely make more in the future! messages like this are honestly a huge part of what keeps me creating, so thank you ❤️❤️❤️

A while back I posted about having graduated and the anxiety of looking for a job given what’s going on in the world; you guys were so supportive of me, so thank you for all the kind words and encouragement you guys sent my way ❤️❤️❤️

I honestly had so much fun making pride icons for all of you and my brain still does a little “!!!” when I see someone in my activity feed who’s using one of them. So thank you to everyone who is using them and I’m glad you guys enjoyed/are enjoying them! Also....the first time in three years that you’ve changed your icon, and it was to the one I made you?? That’s the biggest compliment ever, anon, thank you 😳 😳

i want to thank everyone for their understanding in regards to this blog being something i do as a fellow-fan, therefore there will inevitably be times where i disappear for a day or so or simply don’t reblog/post much content over the course of the day because i’m busy with real life stuff. at the end of the day, i run this blog because i love the untamed, so even though it’s a lot of work (more than one might think), i do it because i love it and i want to share my love and other people’s love ❤️

love received!! i'm really glad my blog can bring you some happiness ❤️❤️❤️

thank you all for your kind words and support!!

nikosomething: i’m glad you think my tagging system is neat lmao because sometimes i feel like it’s a total mess due to my many tags, but the reason i include so many tags with each post is so that it’s easier for you guys to find the specific content that you want to see! the search function on this blog’s desktop theme actually works really well, so i encourage you guys to take advantage of my copious tagging habits to find the niche content you’d like to see. (For example: wondering if i’ve ever reblogged something that involves jin ling and....bunnies? just put ‘jin ling’ and ‘bunnies’ in the search bar and you’ll have your answer!)

all: One of the biggest goals I have for the blog is to a, spread the love, and b, get content creators noticed! I feel like tumblr’s algorithm gets worse everyday, making it harder and harder for content creators to get their content noticed, which is incredibly disheartening and frustrating. So! I do my best to find this content and reblog it, because what I’ve found is that posts don’t get 0 notes because they’re bad, but simply because no one has seen them. And i know i’ve said this before, but folks, if you value awesome, free fan-content, let creators know!! reblog their posts!! leave comments and tags!! it makes a huge difference. thank you for noticing my efforts on this front ❤️❤️❤️

lmao i’m glad i’m helping you get your xichen fix, anon. i don’t think i can claim credit here, as these days i mostly reblog the gifs that people tag me in, but thank you nonetheless ❤️❤️

#admin post #ask #you guys are angels #it's not even an exaggeration to say that i'm constantly referring to you guys as angels whenever i see the cute things you put in the tags

[glitchvault74]

Writer Tag

Tagged by @valkyriejack!

Tagging anyone who wants to do this idk what writers haven't be tagged yet whoops

1.  How many works do you have on AO3?

In total: 135 For Fallout: 69 B)

2.  What’s your total AO3 word count?

In total: 645,034 For Fallout: (if I did my math right) 317,269

3. What are you top 5 fics by kudos?

Overall: 1. Back to Back (Star Trek TOS) 2. Truth Serum (Star Trek TOS) 3. Vocalizations (Star Trek TOS) 4. Allergies (Bugsnax) 5. Your Willingness to Help has been Noted (Bugsnax)

For Fallout: 1. The System is Rigged (Deacon/OC) 2. Don't be a Stranger (Rated E; Nick/Mysterious Stranger) 3. Stuck (Nick/Deacon) 4. That Man (Nick/Stranger) 5. Have been for the past year but thanks for noticing (Nick/Stranger)

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

I do! It's something @falloutglow got me into doing so I do it now out of habit. :>

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

I'll be honest, I don't remember how some of my fics end and if they end with angst so I'm not sure which is angstiest.

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

That's subjective and personally I find it hard to say which ends "happiest"

7. Do you write crossovers?  If so, what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Gravity Falls/Trollhunters ship fic of Standford Pins/Blinky called Six Fingers, Six Eyes

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I got one once. Late 2020, I posted the first chapter of a fic I had started in like 2013 but never finished, and even before I had anything else I had written for it posted, I got a looong nasty comment that 1. complained about the fact that I didn't want to finish the fic 2. made a lot of assumptions about what the fic would be/should be when, again, only 1/7 chapters were posted and 3. these assumptions were really gross and the exact opposite of the kind of fic i wanted to write. All on anon too! I ended up turning on comment moderation so whoever left that comment wouldn't post another one like it.

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

In a fashion... It's less actual smut more "what if the eldritch being got with the robot"

10.  Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone asked me before if they could and I thiiink I said yes but I don't know if it ever happened.

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

Yeah! A few of my older fics were co-written.

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

Deacon/Rig (OC) just like I really like the dynamic I give them and it makes me happy

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

All There Is (Lego Movie 2). I had a few other cool things planned for it but I lost steam on it after a while.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Uhhh speed? I write a lot and fast? Does that count?

16.  What are you writing weaknesses?

I'm start a lot of projects and take forever to finish all of them.

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

idk man just try to be respectful about it if it's a language you don't speak and try not to rely on google translate too much but don't hound any bilingual friends for translations either

18.  What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Fairly Odd Parents but those fics don't exist anymore they were lost several computers ago and were terrible anyway.

19.  What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

The System is Rigged! It has a really special place in my heart and everyone should read it.

#miscellaneous content #valkyriejack

[likesomekindofcheese]

Hide Your Love Away (Paul McCartney x fem! Royal! reader Oneshot)

From an anon request:  can you write Paul x reader oneshot or something where she’s going to have an arranged marriage the following day, which is forced by her family. but she doesn’t want it since she’s secretly dating Paul. So they go on their last date, pretending it’s their honeymoon just for one day since they know they have to be separated after that🥺(sry I’m a sucker for sad/angst fic with lil fluff)

Word Count: Less than 2K

Warnings: swearing, angst with fluff, mentions of weddings and sex. Lack of editing,

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! In order for the premise to work, I decided to make you a member of the noble class who has to marry into royalty  (I got inspired some by The Crown on Netflix, whoops) when you really love Paul. Much love to my angels @joeneslee​ @bens-jawline​ and @rhapsodyrecs​ for helping me when writers block stuck for this one!

 “I just met him, how can I marry him?” you asked with tears blinking in your eyes.

Sighing, you could tell the diadem on your mothers head was beginning to droop. Your father began cutting his meat with more fury. It made the metals on his suit follow in a clink, clink, clink.

“Because this marriage is important to us- to your whole family!” he said.

“But he…I…how do you know it will work?” you question. The diamonds on your necklace feel like an icy grip.

“That doesn’t matter, you will make it work. You always have. It’s the price you pay for your title. It’s going to secure everything. The Prince of Cardonia already agreed to it,” your mother said.

“I…”

“Y/N, you’re a duchess. You do understand the consequences if you don’t do this…money will fall, we’ll lose protection…our house, everything.”

Squeezing your hands together, you began to blink away tears.

“And think of how the alliance will help us, politically. Do you want our people to suffer?” your father pointed out.

You agreed to the match. In a way, you could be a good leader still. Carry out orders. Make changes. Protect people. But it was useless now.

In your room, you began dialing madly for his number. Pacing, the ring on the phone seemed to last forever. Who knew a chance encounter at a party for music led to you both. Then all these phone calls. The meetings. Then meetings led to more talk. And soon your mouths stopped talking and started kissing.

“Y/N…I’m speechless…and you…you can’t say no…” Paul wonders. Your throat feels dry.

“I don’t have a choice! I…I didn’t choose this, they just…announced it,” you mourned.

Those calls are made in plenty the following weeks. You get fitted for the wedding gown a month later. It’s a wide gown decked in lace covering your neck and shoulders with a long train that leaves lace down like a cape. Everyone says you look beautiful, but you don’t feel like it. You are constantly asked for details about the wedding. You gave boring answers. You don’t want to make it too fussy, but at least pretty. But it’s soulless, you feel like.

The day comes sooner, so Paul suggests something…a trip.

You don’t know how, but you managed to get away. You had a few trusted friends who covered for you

The prince of Cordonia isn’t like Paul at all. He is stiff and dull. Not abusive, you don’t think, but that could change.

Paul is super ambitious and works to get the secret trip right.

Right as you get on the plane, making sure it is private and paying guards and the pilot extra, you look at Paul.

“We could…pretend…”

“Pretend what?”

“Pretend we’re married. That we’re going to be at our honeymoon…I don’t know if we’ll get a chance to later…”

Smiling, you begin to drum your fingers on the tan plush arm of your seat.

“How in god’s name did a damn Beatle escape from the press?” you asked. The plane whirred as it soared over the air.

Paul sighs, taking a sip of water from a plastic cup. 

“A lot of help, that’s what. Didn’t you get your friends in? Well, I got friends too,” he answered with a wink that always flipped your stomach.

“Where are you even going?”

He smiled.

“Ibiza, Spain!”

“Spain! I’ve never been to Spain!” you cried. Running up, you give him a girlish hug and kiss his cheek.

The jet plane landed and you both made your way to a hotel. Paul donned fake facial hair and as soon as you were led to your suite, he ripped it off. Though it looked red and tears stung his eyes.

“Oo-owww!”

You began to laugh hard at his reaction before tossing yourself on the feathery bed. That first night you both indulged in a large dinner while watching the sun go down and after much evening walking, settled into your bed for the first sleep after traveling.

When you both woke up, you saw his face first. Then your eyes flitted open. The sunshine of the Spanish morning poured in from over his head. He looked even more angelic.

“Hello husband!”

“Hello Wifey!” he said, kissing your forehead. 

Both of you cuddle up against the cold air from the AC before ordering a breakfast and spending time in your pajamas…as well as out of them. Smiling and taking in each other. Chatting about the habits of his other band members and laughing at them like normal.

They explored old towns. Spanish architecture, orange and tall, surrounded them. You bought lunch at little local restaurants, usually saving room for cold gelato served in cones dusted with cinnamon. It was touristy. It was cliche. It was perfect.

Both of you go through markets all afternoon when it’s too hot to do anything else. Thanking the heavens for shade and cheering at the sight of a working fan. One market had a tendency to be overpriced. Not that neither of you couldn’t afford it. 

Glancing over there was a young woman eyeing a necklace. Maybe a local. Her eyes were bright as she admired how the gems shone in the light and how they flattered her skin. But when she glanced at the price tag, she frowned.

Nudging, you murmur “I’ll be over there…”

You walk up to the young woman and smile.

“Hello, do you like that necklace?” you greet.

She blinks in confusion and sighs.

“Yes, I do” she says in a voice as sweet as honey. “It’s just…expensive, is all. I’ll look for another one.”

From the pocket of your pants you pull out several dollar bills and hand them to her. She is frozen looking at the numbers. It’s enough to buy at least five necklaces here.

“Not anymore…”

“Why are you doing this?” she asks.

“Let’s say…I have more than enough. Least I can do.” You answer.

Walking back, you see Paul’s eyes grow wide and then he smiles. He wraps a hand around yours as you walk out. Glancing back, you can see the girl is slack jawed. Then she went and bought the becklace with a smile as big as her face.

As soon as he got home, with only a few packages of things, Paul flung himself on the bed.

“Ooof! I’m bloody exhausted!”

You lean over, smiling. His face has gotten a little red from the sun. Your hands creep over to his shoulders.

“Let me massage you sweetheart…I don’t want my… my husband to be in pain,” you insisted.

Paul grinned larger at the use of the word.

For the rest of the night, you went over piles of photographs Paul managed to take. His love of the camera made him keep it as close as if it was his baby. You both managed to find local places and take pictures. The cheesiest pictures one could manage. Smiling faces, wide arms, and mountains and beaches and buildings too beautiful to be real.

“I’d like to keep a few…” you say.

Paul looks up at you.

“Is that…is that possible, Y/N? They look through your things, y’know…” he warned.

You shrugged, looking at one picture you took of Paul smiling, squinting into the sunlight with a castle from long ago far behind him, poking out of the green hill. Then another one where you managed to travel out and visit another real palace with elaborate floors outside and pigeons flying by.

“I can manage. I have…have places in my home only I can enter. Royalty, y’know…”

Looking back, only your closest friends were in on this. Friends you knew would not tattle. Friends who could influence any nosy servants.

He leaned over on the bed, in a white shirt and long pajama pants. Placing a hand, he traced a strand of hair.

“You might be their duchess, but you’re me girl. Always.”

The next morning, both of you were napping, naked, and smiling in post-coital bliss. Unaware that it was already noon. And there was a newspaper with your brunch.

As you groaned, opening your eyes, you heard Paul nearly spit out his tea from the tray.

“Oof, too hot for you?” you teased.

He looked at you and turned the page.

There was a small, minor article. It shouldn’t have caused much attention. But it was about your parents. It mentioned them addressing rumors that you were running away with another man and may have been spotted in Spain- or someone who looked like you. They couldn’t tell who the man was, but it was not your betrothed.

“Oh shit.”

You toss the paper onto the sheets, looking at Paul with his face, white as the sheets.

“We’ll…we’ll just have to be careful…” you suggest. Leaning forward, you cup his face and he nods.

You both had to be too careful. You went to beach. The sun was bright and you tasted the salt in the wind, but you had to look around you. Everytime there was a stranger, you felt their eyes on you. Both of you picked a time when there would be less people, but it felt there were now invisible cameras somewhere.

Both of you waded in the water and laid around in a towel underneath an umbrella for shade. But even in the most relaxing moments, you couldn’t help but worry if eyes were staring. Paul opened a picnic basket and handed you a bowl of strawberries, but you wondered if even a nice snack would somehow make it’s way to tabloids.

The next few days, you were more careful. Going to less crowded places. On your penultimate day, you ignored the paper. Paul was still asleep. You glanced for any news. Once you saw a photo of your parents worried faces. “We are concerned for our daughter…”

You tossed it into the trash bin. You would deal with it later. You wanted to enjoy each minute while you had it.

You kept trying to sneak into sites with less people, odder hours. If not, you were at each other like rabbits in your hotel room. Savoring intimacy and feeling one while you still could, or lazing about in your pajamas-ordering food and watching the sea. Talking about everything and nothing.

Paul opened his eyes, lashes fluttering. You couldn’t’ help but smile at him. His lashes were long, curved naturally without any mascara. How could one man be so beautiful?

“What…what is it?”

“Nothing hubby…” you said quietly, kissing his forehead. “Let’s just…let’s just enjoy the day.”

Spain had the loveliest sunsets. You watched from your hotel and then walked at night. The stars were out and the ocean was calming. Both of you felt a breeze. Paul handed you his jacket. Even in the dark, you could make out quiet sniffling. Clutching his hand, you turned to the ocean to look up at it’s infinity underneath a night sky. You never let his hand go the rest of that night. You wanted this pretense to last long as it could until you could no more, when the plane landed and you were back home at the palace with photos of Spain snuck into the bottom of your suitcases. 

 Besides, there was a wedding next week. 

Taglist: @stardust-killer-queen​ @queenlover05​

#royal au #royal! reader #royal! y/n #carrie writes #paul mccartney #paul mccartney angst #paul mccartney fluff #paul mccartney x reader #paul mccartney x y/n #paul mccartney x you #paul mccartney oneshot #paul mccartney imagine #paul mccartney x fem! y/n #paul mccartney x fem! reader #bealtes oneshot #beatles imagine #bealtes fanfic #beatles fanfiction #paul mccartney fanfiction

[danyok]

Can you please do 70 for Phun and Noh?! ❤️ I love your one shots and no one ever writes PhunNoh! Thank you sooo much! (No matter if you get to this one or not, I LOVE when you do prompts!!)

Anon. You made my life with this request, okay. I could not help but scream about it when I read it. I love Phun and Noh so much. They do not get the recognition they deserve. So thank you so much for requesting it!! (Thank you sooo much!! I’m glad that you enjoy them!) Whoops, this ended up a lot longer than I anticipated. I just have a lot of feelings about these two ok. [Prompt List] @blievable wanted to be tagged in this, so here we go!

70.  “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

WC: 1414

“Where’s Phun?”

The question caused Noh to stop as he was in the middle of putting his guitar up in the case. There’d been a showcase that night there at the university. Phun hadn’t been able to make it, but Noh had known that for a while. He had some sort of project due and his group working on it were finishing up that night so that they could get it turned in by morning. “He’s busy,” Noh told the person that had asked, putting his guitar into the case and closing it with a snap. He picked up the guitar case and looked at the person that was talking to him. He didn’t like the look on their face - it was a sad one and made Noh disappointed all over again that Phun hadn’t been able to be there. “It’s fine. No need for such a sad expression.” Noh flashed them a smile before waving and saying good-night, that he’d see them in class the next morning. He didn’t hang around after that, and made his way out of the building so that he could catch up with the friend that had promised to give him a ride home.

Noh sighed heavily as he walked down the steps, trying not to let himself start overthinking about the fact that Phun wasn’t there walking next to him like he should have been. Somehow, it seemed that no matter how hard they tried, they always ended up back at the same moment. It was difficult to keep a relationship going when they were too busy to see one another often. Things would be going great, and then the doubt would start to slip in the less that they were able to see one another. Noh knew it was his anxiety, his doubt in himself that made him start to question things - he knew that. It did not make it easier to shut out those thoughts, to stop himself from thinking how much better it would be if Phun spent his time with someone else, someone better suited for him. He didn’t want to end things, to lose his best friend, but sometimes he felt like he was already losing him anyway.

Phun would always be his first love. He still loved Phun. He could not help but fear that they were only together out of convenience, out of a sense of comfort and familiarity. There were no major attempts made at spending time together anymore. Phun knew he was guilty about that, too, so maybe it wasn’t even just Phun who was going through the motions. The fact that they were at a point where Noh was second guessing everything, and not for the first time, just made Noh feel as though maybe there was no reason in dragging things out.

There were a few people still milling about outside the building they’d held the showcase in, talking and laughing and Noh tried not to let it irritate him - but there was a spike of annoyance and he wanted more than anything to just go home. Noh slowed his steps to a stop when he realized that standing ahead of him a short ways was Phun with a small smile on his face that seemed to fade a little as he gave Noh a once over - were his thoughts that clearly displayed on his face? “You brought flowers,” Noh said once he realized that Phun was holding a small thing of flowers in his hand. Phun nodded with a hum of agreement as Noh slowly walked over to where he stood. “I thought you had that study group tonight.”

“I did,” answered Phun with a nod of his head. “But I told you I would try really hard to be here.” Phun didn’t tell Noh he had eventually just told the group to take care of the rest because he had somewhere else to be. He knew that things had gotten difficult again. Classes took up so much of his time, but he tried. He thought he’d gotten better at balancing things out. Still, he knew the showcase had been important to Noh. When it came down to it, how could he have been anywhere else? “You were amazing up there.”

“You saw it?” Noh nearly dropped his guitar case in surprise at that comment. While he hadn’t expected to see Phun at all that night, after seeing him standing there, he had figured that Phun had just gotten there.

“Of course I did.” Phun gave a slow smile as he watched the different emotions play over his boyfriend’s face. He took a step closer to Noh and lightly tapped his face with the flowers. “Did you really think I wasn’t going to be here?”

“Well, I…” Noh stumbled over his words when Phun sent him a look that told him he was being ridiculous. Noh then let out a slow breath and shook his head a little. “You’ve been busy, and classes are important.”

“Not more important than you.” Phun wanted to sigh when he saw the flicker of doubt on Noh’s face, though Noh attempted to hide it by looking off to the side instead of at him directly. Phun wasn’t sure if he was more angry or sad that Noh still felt so much doubt in him, in them and their relationship. He was not sure if it said more about Noh or him. Did he need to work harder at reminding Noh where exactly he wanted to be and why he worked so hard at school so that Noh didn’t doubt everything? Or was it more that he needed the reminder that he wasn’t someone that Phun could just walk away from? “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

“No,” he replied with a slight laugh. “No. I don’t think that. I just thought-” He broke off, scrunching up his face when Phun tapped him in the face with the flowers once again.

“You think too much.”

Noh narrowed his eyes a little at Phun’s comment, but he wasn’t exactly wrong, so Noh didn’t try to argue it. He knew that he had that habit, getting far too up in his head and those anxieties that he couldn’t always shake off. “Ai’Phun, what are you doing?” Noh asked, leaning back slightly as Phun stepped up even closer and slid his free arm around Noh’s middle, holding him close. Phun’s face was far too close to his own for them to be standing on campus. “We’re at school!”

“It’s after hours,” Phun countered with a small smirk on his face. “No one is here.” Noh used his free hand to vaguely gesture to the other students who were nearby, though none of them were paying the two of them any attention in the slightest. “We’re not in high school anymore.” Noh clicked his tongue against his teeth at that comment, though he understood that the comment was a way of stating that nobody cared if they were affectionate like they would have if they’d gotten caught when they were younger.

Noh seemed for a second that he was going to consider Phun’s words, but he shook his head instead and put his free hand on Phun’s shoulder, pressing gently but enough to keep Phun from getting any closer than he already was. Phun just smiled at him and then raised the hand still holding the flowers to use his fist to tilt Noh’s head down enough that he could lean in and press a lingering kiss to Noh’s forehead. Noh inhaled sharply through his nose and gripped tightly to Phun’s shoulder. “Come on,” Phun said as he removed his arm from Noh’s waist and lowered his other hand while taking a step away. He smiled rather cheekily at the almost dazed expression on Noh’s face. Phun then took a hold of Noh’s free hand with his own. “Let’s go so we can put these flowers in water.” Noh didn’t respond with words; he nodded his head and linked his fingers together with Phun’s as they started to walk together to where Phun’s car was parked. They had things they needed to talk about still, issues to work through and deal with, but those could wait until they weren’t standing on campus. As Noh trailed after Phun, a small smile formed on his face as those doubts and fears he’d felt earlier slowly started to fade away.

#phunnoh #phun/noh #phun x noh #lovesick #reminders #lovesick the series #my fics #prompt fill #ask #anon #anonymous

[searchingwardrobes]

Twister AU: Ch 6/7

This chapter has very little plot and no tornados, but I have a feeling you’ll all like it anyway *wink wink* It also explains more of Emma and Killian’s back story together after they became orphans. I have had this chapter brainstormed for so long, I was dying to get to it and share it!

Rating: T for peril in most of the story, but in this chapter the T is more for other “stuff” . . .

You can read this from the beginning along with my AUs of The Fugitive and Adventures in Babysitting on Ao3

Tagging @shipsxahoy @shady-swan-jones @tiganasummertree @bethacaciakay @artistic-writer @teamhook @kmomof4 @cat-sophia @hollyethecurious @coliferoncer @thejacketandthehook @dassala @branlovesouat @allofdafandoms-blog @flslp87 @pocket-anon @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @jennjenn615

  The sound of the camper coming to a screeching halt behind them caused Killian to pull away from her. He turned his back on his team and paced several steps away, his head in his hands. Once the others jumped out of the camper, he had composed himself. Yet he gave Emma a wobbly smile and squeezed her hand.

“It didn’t work,” Ruby muttered, going straight for the machine, “it still didn’t work!”

“It was only an F2, boss,” Smee spoke up, removing his red cap and twisting it in his hands, “smaller than the last one. Maybe it just wasn’t strong enough to take her.”

Killian patted Smee reassuringly on the shoulder as he walked past, headed for the truck. Wordlessly, he climbed in, then rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Emma’s heart ached as she watched him.

“What’s up with him?” Ruby asked.

Emma shook her head. “Nothing. Let’s just get this thing back in the truck.”

Smee and Ruby stood there dumbly in the road watching her.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” said Ruby hesitantly.

“He just needs a minute, alright?” Emma snapped, and the two of them rushed to help her with DOT.

Once they got the machine loaded, Emma said nothing as she climbed into the passenger seat. Killian simply took his right hand off the steering wheel to reach over and grab hers. Emma just stared at their intertwined fingers.

“Uh, boss.”

Smee was standing at the driver’s side window, his hat practically in knots. He never did like it when Killian got moody. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“We’re only 15 minutes away from Laverty, and um . . . Ruby thought Granny would like to see Emma, so . . . “ the man shuffled his feet.

Emma leaned over the console after feeling the slightest pressure from Killian’s fingers. She glanced at him long enough to see the tiniest glimmer in his eyes.

“Sure, Smee,” she told him, “it’s been way too long since I’ve been home.”

As Smee turned, whooping as he ran to the camper with the good news, Killian turned to Emma with a smile on his lips. He brushed a kiss to her knuckles before starting the truck.

“Home. You don’t know how much it means to hear you use that word, Swan.”

*****************************************************

Her room still hadn’t changed. The walls were still painted a pale yellow, the same white daisy wallpaper border at the top. The frilly white curtains with the pattern of tiny buttercups still fluttered at the window. She still remembered when she was eleven and Granny had just finished decorating it. She had asked Emma for her favorite color and flower. “They didn’t have buttercup wallpaper,” she had apologized, “so I hope you like daisies.”

Granny had asked to adopt her. Killian, too. But neither one of them wanted to let go of the families they had lost, not completely, and Granny had understood. But decorating this room just for Emma had been her way of saying that no matter what her birth certificate said, Emma was home.

She had been nervous coming here. When she ran and hid from Killian, it meant hiding from Ruby and Granny too. They hadn’t known about Henry either. But just like Ruby, Granny didn’t get angry. She just hugged Emma tight and insisted she sit down immediately and show her every picture she had of her new grandbaby.

“Don’t you mean great grandbaby?” Killian had teased, earning him a glare over their foster mother’s bifocals. They only called her Granny because Ruby did. Though she was more like a mother to Ruby than a grandmother too, having raised her since Ruby’s mother died of a drug overdose at seventeen.

Emma shimmied out of her blue jeans and slipped into a pair of pajama shorts. Then she pulled her thin sweater over her head and tossed it on the floor too. Then she unhooked her bra, maneuvered it out from under her tank top and added it to the pile in the corner. Killian always lectured her about her messy habits. His room down the hall was always kept so clean it would have passed a military inspection.

She wondered idly as she slipped between the cool sheets if his room looked the same too; navy walls with that anchor wallpaper border. He used to dream of the ocean, hadn’t he? Yet here he still was in the landlocked Midwest. She ached for him to let go, and not just for her and Henry.

Emma rolled onto her back and flung her arm over her forehead. The ceiling fan was still the same too – that faux white wicker. It always made a funny whistling sound as the air passed through the gaps in the wood. She remembered lying in Killian’s arms as the sun came up, the slow movements of the fan casting shadows on the wall. She remembered him trailing kisses down her bare shoulder and laughing about what an impractical ceiling fan it was. Funny the tiny details a person remembers. She rolled over on her side to face the wall. This room hadn’t changed, and that fact made her heart race with so many memories. It was the same bed, too. She had grown up in this bed; in more ways than one.

She wasn’t surprised when she heard the door slowly creak open or when the bed dipped behind her. Then his arms were around her, and she felt herself finally relax into the mattress. He pulled her closer, and she didn’t resist. It was all so easy to fall back into.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Killian mumbled into her hair, nuzzling his nose against her neck.

Emma snorted. “We said goodnight like ten minutes ago. I don’t think you tried.”

His arm shifted to her hip and she rolled over on her back to face him. He smiled down at her, propping his head on his other hand. The one at her hip made lazy circles, fiddling with the fabric that barely skimmed her thigh. It sent shivers through her that she tried to ignore.

“I’ve never slept very well in that room,” he told her. Then his smile turned more salacious. “I’ve always preferred your bed.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “When you think about this bed, you aren’t thinking about sleeping.”

Killian chuckled, his hand drifting up to her waist. His fingers teased with the hem of her shirt. “Hmm, we did make a lot of memories in this bed.”

“Killy!’ she gasped, smacking him in the chest.

“Ow!” he protested, rubbing at the spot where she hit him, “I was thinking about when we were kids, for your information.”

“Right. You mean when we were fourteen and sixteen, and you finally made it to second base right before Granny barged in?”

He groaned a bit melodramatically as he rolled backwards onto the pillow. “Don’t remind me. That was the most humiliating moment of my life!”

Emma, rolled over too, propping her chin up on his bare chest. Maybe not the smartest idea, but everything with Killian was just so natural , it was almost subconcsiou. “Just humiliating?” she teased.

He grinned down at her and winked. “No. Also glorious and life changing, and God you have gorgeous breasts!”

She bit her lower lip, and that probably wasn’t conscious either. Maybe. “At fourteen? I doubt it.”

“Oh, but they were,” he told her in a completely sincere voice.

He rubbed his hand up and down her back, and she was suddenly aware of every point where their bodies touched, especially her breasts pressed against his chest with only the thin fabric of her tank top between their skin. She swallowed and pulled away from him, pulling the blanket up as she rested back against her pillow. But Killian wasn’t letting her get away quite so easily. He rolled on his side so he could look down at her again. He reached down and traced her jaw with his fingertip.

“But,” he told her softly, “being completely serious, I also remember being a scared kid of twelve who hadn’t slept since he lost his father and brother on the same day. And then you came, this beautiful but sad little girl, and we understood one another. I heard you crying that first night, the same way I still did each night. So I snuck in here, and –“

“You said it’s okay to cry; I cry too.” Emma took a deep breath, remembering Killian as a scrawny kid, standing in her doorway with his hair sticking up on his head.

“You reached your hand out,” he continued, “and you asked me to stay with you.”

His fingers were in her hair now, and her resolve was crumbling. He had stayed that night, her first night in this room; had lain there next to her, a little awkwardly, holding her hand until she fell asleep. He came to her room almost every night, unbeknownst to Granny. Some nights he tiptoed back to his own room, but other nights he stayed. His awkwardness eventually melted away. He would read to her by the light of a flashlight, giggle with her under the covers as they planned how to get back at the bullies at school, or sit by the window as he taught her all the constellations. He shared memories about his brother, and she would tell him about her parents.

And one night, when she was thirteen, something shifted. He was suddenly looking at her the way he was right now, his fingers finding their way to her hair. He whispered how beautiful she was, and then his lips were on hers, chaste and slightly awkward. And it was here that he had held her and told her in between kisses that he loved her and always would.

When she was sixteen, he slipped into her room after his high school graduation. She had wanted to give herself to him completely, but he was afraid she was too young. It wasn’t their first fight, but probably their worst one. She was scared, terrified, that he would forget her while away at college. Get too mature for her, and never come home again.

But he had proved her wrong. Love letters weren’t really a thing anymore. For everyone but Killian Jones, that is. Because he wrote her. Not just emails, but actual letters that came in the mail. Poetic, beautiful things in his ridiculously pretty handwriting. Granny of course commented on how overly dramatic it was since he drove home to see her practically every weekend. She was always calling Killian dramatic.

And when he came home for Thanksgiving, as Granny served his welcome home dinner, Emma had leaned over and whispered in his ear what she was planning for him that night in her room. She ran her hand up his thigh to punctuate her point. He almost choked on his iced tea and kicked the table so hard that Granny’s lasagna almost went sliding to the floor. She giggled now at the memory.

“What?” he asked her in the present, his fingers still entangled in her hair.

“I’m just remembering things,” she told him, reaching up to touch his scar. The one he got when the barn door hit him beneath the overpass when he was twelve. He turned his face to kiss her palm, and something broke open and unfurled inside of her chest.

“Emma,” he breathed.

She slid her hand up to dig her fingers through his hair and pull him down to her. Their lips slid over each other in a familiar dance, and Emma sighed into it, her lips parting to let him in. His hands traced the curves of her body, his touch igniting her in a way no one else ever could. Her back arched up off the mattress as his mouth latched onto her neck and his hand slipped up her shirt, cupping her breast.

“Killian,” she gasped.

She meant to say something else; about how she just broke off an engagement to another man, how they couldn’t just pick back up where they left off, how they hadn’t really finished their earlier conversation. Talk. She meant to say they should talk. But instead she peeled off her tank top and added it to the pile on the floor.

#cs ff #captain swan #cs movie au #cs twister au #twister au #childhood sweethearts

[anoceaninthesun]

What do you think of reviewers who post at the last chapter and say, "I usually review only on the last chapter. I like your story blah blah blah" Doesn't this common habit among the fandom readers take away any motivation for writers to update frequently? I feel there are more reviews for people who update once a month, than people who update once in three days.

This is interesting because despite the main way I interact with fandom spaces being from writing fanfics, I generally don’t get asked much about my opinions on reviews, despite having loads of them. Caveat to my response is I speak mainly from my own experience with maybe brief generalizations I feel fanfic writers would more or less agree on.

To the first part of the question, um, well honestly even if infrequent I guess I’d prefer to see people review throughout. This is because my fics tend to be longer. I do often get reviews from people along the lines of “I would’ve stopped to review sooner but I just got so caught up in binging I waited until there was nothing left to read, whoops” I get that sometimes that’s true. If it’s a really thoughtfully constructed longer review than I guess I’m good with that. If it’s 36 chapters published in the span of two years with over 200,000+ words (which is where ASiT currently sits) and you give me maybe two lines....yeah, I can say you likely aren’t exactly my favorite person when I open your review. 🤣

But this is because I spent two years cranking this out piece by piece and the returned investment is already so little I feel two sentences to sum up all that’s been read and processed and hopefully enjoyed, is less than the bare minimum. So in summary on that less is never more for longer works in my opinion. If you’d like to leave shorter comments here and there that are chapter specific as you read it makes a lot more sense for me.

Yes, lazy reviews in short absolutely do drain away motivation. I’ll just bluntly come out and say that. By lazy I mean the specific kind of reviewer often admits they thought it was okay to keep reading and not review, not even at the end, and they tend to pop up only when there hasn’t been an update in a while. That’s....yeah.

Personally I hardly ever do every three day updates. When a story is in its infancy and I’m trying to get a feel for how it’ll take off so I’m cranking out these short chapters consecutively you may see me do that with little regard to how many reviews the chapters are getting as long as it ups the word count, which in turn often makes the story easier to find and generates attention....but on longer works I strongly advise against trying to do updates weekly. Why? Well on systems like FFN (Fanfiction dot net), this will actually not move your work to the top of the system when the page refreshes.

Due to an outdated algorithm they have, one of many, it has to be like 8+ days between chapters before updating will cause your story to float to the top of the fandom’s page of recently updated fics. So for example if you update every three days, people already following and favoriting may be alerted but new readers just scrolling through not using tags won’t see it because it’ll have been buried. So yes people who update monthly absolutely do usually (notice italics) get more traffic than people updating much, much more frequently. Updating that frequently can also give readers a sense of entitlement in my experience and the experiences of other writers I’ve heard from.

Chapters get cranked out soooo steadily and quickly that many people won’t feel it necessary to post feedback. They’re not being made to wait and for some (for sure not all but many!!) readers the wait is all they care about. If they’re not waiting/ “being inconvenienced” then they’re not going to comment. That is their sole reason to want to reach out to you to remind you in some way, sometimes politely and sometimes rudely, that they’re still waiting.

That being said, we are most definitely not machines. I know when I discovered fanfic I was barely in double digits and when I clumsily posted my now long-ago-deleted first work, I could hardly be considered a teenager. Now I am an adult, albeit not a very old one, and my priorities have for sure shifted and the free time I found in abundance even in high school, is a lot more limited. I’ve got a lot going on at any given time. A lot of things require me to devote myself to them pretty thoroughly.

Social lives don’t make themselves; you have to work to keep cultivating those no matter if the relationship is platonic, familial, romantic or otherwise. Animals tend to be less likely to bite the hand that feeds them (not that they have in my case) when you spend time raising and training them and then keeping up that bond—not that anyone asked but right now my whole thing is experimenting with fruit salad combos I made myself to see what my new baby bird likes, and renovating his cage so he’s constantly stimulated enough not to try to figure out the locks😂😂.

I’m gearing up to try to kill myself with school again by going for a D.PH next fall (which means I need to apply now and that in itself is a long and expensive process) because living even remotely close to three decades (which is what I would be when I finally finished it) is overrated anyway. If that doesn’t work I can always shave about the same amount of time off my life with emergency disaster management work. So what I’m saying is, all the stuff that young adult me has been juggling for the last three years or so, ten or fifteen year old me would have no clue about in terms of priorities. She could read fics and write fics, read fics and write fics in a cycle.

People want me and writers who are just as busy as me to update frequently, so make it worth our while. Show us why you, the readers, are worth devoting a probably limited chunk of our free time to keep happy with a craft we’ve honed (in my case professionally with the help of degrees), when we could be doing literally anything else. I don’t advise people slaving away at a keyboard to put free fics out there every three days and then getting discouraged when it’s not received as well as they’d like, when nothing is wrong with updating monthly, or hell, even every six months if that’s all your personal schedule allows for.

Sometimes I do surprise updates sooner than expected when a reader has really made my day with a solid review that encouraged me to jump start my writing process or when something has gone well in life and I turn to my writing or when I myself am sick of not finding what I wanna read and want to see more of what I’ve written admittedly partially from wish fulfillment put down to page. But never count on that a writer will feel generous for nothing, is my advise to readers. And if you, anon, are a writer, or some of my aspiring fellow fanfic writers see this, again, go at your own pace to avoid burnout. It’s a really fun hobby that has undoubtedly brought me endless joy but existential rewards aside it can be thankless. You will feel unmotivated and unappreciated at times.

Especially when reviewers roll in after long absences on their parts to feed you a line about why they hadn’t reviewed for a while until you chased them out of your inbox with a broom for badgering you between updates. Hopefully this wasn’t too rambling to get something from. Thank you for the ask.

#long post #writing #fanfic writing #woes of a fic writer #anon ask

[redvsvblue]

Your writing is awesome. Any fun shipping involving Michael and Ryan in an Airport related AU? (Based off that list you reblogged)

Hey, anon, anon, you’re awesome. :-P. That being said, uh, this…became less of a prompt and more of an entire fic. I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted! (I chose ‘we have the same luggage and didn’t check the tags before we left so i’m calling you to exchange suitcases (and you also had some interesting things in your bag so i’m excited to meet you) au’ from the list!) 

Thank you for prompting, though! I do hope you like it! 

The phone rings awayand Michael holds it between ear and shoulder as he scratches hischin with a yawn. Late morning sunlight splashes over his livingroom, over the plush rug and the stale sofas he hasn’t sat on in aweek.

Michael lowers hisbowl of cereal to the table to flip over the rubbery luggage tagagain, rubbing his thumb over the brand name and drifting over thename messily scrawled in under the plastic covering.

The phone connectsand Michael snaps to attention, listening carefully to the silence onthe other end.

“Hello?”

“…Yeah?” Ascratchy voice replies, thick with sleep. And probably jetlag,whoops.

“Ryan?”

“…Is this Jack?”

“Uh, no, this is –I’m Michael. We, uh, we seem to have the wrong luggage.”

“Yeah, I figuredthat out when I saw the Amiibos. Give me a second.”

– 

“So, you livein Austin too. Thank god you weren’t connecting.”

“Yeah,thankfully.”  

“…I gottaask, what’s with the knives?”

“They’re –for a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Shut up.”

“And what’swith the makeup?”

“Okay, that’sdefinitely for afriend.”

Michael waitspatiently in the window seat at Starbucks, scrolling idly through hisphone as he waits for this Ryanto show up with his luggage.

“GavinDipshit Free?” Someone asks, tearing Michael from his screen as helooks up to see – well, who must presumably be Ryan,a charming smile and a polite hand extended and Michael’s suitcaseby his legs.

“It’sfor his birthday,” Michael says, grinning back as he shakes Ryan’shand and gestures for him to sit across. Ryanlaughs lightly and rolls his suitcase over under the table –Michael pushes Ryan’s over, and with their own luggage safelytucked next to their legs, they start up a mild conversation. Afterall, Michael does have somequestions.

“Thepotpourri was a nice touch,” Ryan says.

“Yeah,well, I’m not gonna let my dirty socks stink it up, that’s justgross.”

“Iappreciated it. Sorry I couldn’t return the favour.”

“Nah,you were fine. The body glitter is a little questionable, though, Imean, what are you, a stripper? Entertainer?”

Michaelshoots him a teasing little smile and Ryan laughs, shaking his head.

“No,uh, I was at a – convention. With a friend.” Ryan’s eyes driftover to Michael’s forearm and seem to light up a touch, his smilegrowing wider when he speaks. “The one over in Vegas? Theypremiered Far - “

“FarCry, yeah!” Michael says at the same time. “So, cosplayer?”

Ryanlifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug.

“Myfriend’s more into it than me,” he says. “At least, she putsway more effort in. The glitter was for her Overwatch day.”

“Whatwas yours?”

“Booker.From – Bioshock - “ Ryan grins when Michael starts eagerlynodding along, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Well,you gotta show me pictures now,” he says.

“I– eh, they’re not great,”Ryan says, pulling out his phone nonetheless. “Although Meg did doa pretty great Elizabeth.” He leans in a little to whisperdramatically as he opens his phone. “The photographer, however, alittle overpriced,I think.”

“Aw,dude, I know photography people!” Michael exclaims, hunching overRyan’s phone when he brings up the photos to show him. “Oh, thoseare good, yeah, shereally is a great Elizabeth.” He glances up at Ryan a little slyly.“And you’re a great Booker.”

Ryanclears his throat and flushes the faintest pink, murmuring his thanksas Michael zooms in on details.

“Didyou make the costumes?” He asks.

“Ah,no, that’s more Meg’s deal.”

“Dude,listen, next time you need a photographer, hit me up, I know a fewpeople,” Michael says, turning the phone back around. “I mean,Gavin’s all over that shit.”

“GavinDipshit Free?”

“Theone and only.”

Michaelbreaks into friendly laughter and Ryan shares it, pocketing his phoneand shifting a little in his seat.

“Hey,uh, listen, let me get you coffee and you can tell me more about yourcrushed snowglobes?” Ryan asks, something hesitant in his tone.

“Yeah,yeah, that’d be – great,” Michael says, and Ryan’s pleasedlittle smile is incrediblyendearing. God, it’s only been half an hour and Michael’s alreadythoroughly impressed with the man.

“Hey,wait,” Michael says, catching Ryan’s arm before he walks past. “Idon’t know your last name.”

“Haywood,”Ryan says, turning to shake Michael’s hand again. “Ryan Haywood.”

“Jones.Michael Jones,” Michaelreplies, clasping his hand to Ryan’s and grinning at the littlefirm shake Ryan gives.

– 

“Ithought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow,” Ryansays as he pulls his bag off the carousel – checks the tag andshows Michael to prove it.

“Eh,there was a snowstorm comin’,” Michael says, shoving his hands inhis pockets and shivering a little in the chill of the airport.“Bumped all our flights either earlier or later. Figured I’drather lose a day on hotel fees than getting stuck in Jersey foranother week.”

Ryanhums in agreement and pushes his beanie up out of his eyes, pullingup the handleon his suitcase to lean against it as he waits with Michael.

“Convention?”Michael asks. Ryan nods.

“Meetanyone interesting?” Michael teases, has done ever since he foundout Ryan has a penchant – ormore of a habit - ofaccidentally flirtingwith people.

“…notthere,” Ryan says, giving him a strange glance. Michaelignores the little skip in his heartbeat and nods, carefully watchingthe conveyor belt for his bag.

Itrattles up to them and Michael lunges for it, wrestling it off thebelt with exaggerated grunts as Ryan laughs behind him, steadying himwith a hand on his shoulder asMichael yanks the handleup.

They’reonly barely out of customs when something jumps Michael from behind,sending him stumbling forward a few steps and shouting an irritated“Gavin!” when he identifies who exactly is squeaking in his ear.

“Gavin,you fuck, I just got off a plane!” Michael yells, laughing anywaywhen Gavin slides off his back to come around his front, practicallybouncing on his feet in excitement.

“Michaelboi!” He exclaims, fiddling with a slim, wrapped gift in his handsand ecstatically presenting it to Michael. “Happy birthday!”

“It’syour birthday?” Ryan asks as Michael accepts the gift.

“Isthis Ryan? LovelyRyan?” Gavin asks cheekily – Michael hisses out a noand Gavin only grins wider, giving Ryan a quick once-over and holdinghis hand out to shake.

“I’veheard a lot about you,” Gavin says calmly. Michael glares at him.

Heknows too much. Michael’s going to have to snap his neck.

“Anyway,boi, didn’t want you to miss out on your birthday!” Gavin says.Michael smiles and tears openthe paper – and his jaw drops open, much to Gavin’s cleardelight.

“Holyshit, Gav!” Hebreathes, ripping the rest of the paper away and stuffing itcarelessly into his pocket as he flips over the copy of Far Cry, thenew one that came out only a month ago, just before he met Ryan. “Ican’t believe you got this for me!”

“Yeah,well, Jeremy can’t, either,” Gavin replies, tapping the cover.“It’s from him as well, but only if you let him play with you.”

“JesusChrist, thanks, Gavin,” Michael says, staring at the cover indisbelief. “…feel kinda bad for ruining your snowglobes now.”

“Nah,it’s fine! They were top! Worked great in the hammer smashin’video.”

“The– hammer…smashing?” Ryan asks, and Gavin turns to tell him allabout his slo-mo channel andMichael drools over the game.

Ryanends up sharing their taxi home, deep in a playful argument withGavin that only gets more ridiculous the longer the night goes on.

– 

“’ello?”

“Ryan?”

“Michael,”Ryan says cheerfully, something rustling in his background. “What’sup?”

“I– think I have something of yours,” Michael says, slowly turningthe envelope over in his hand. “It’sa – con ticket?”

“Nope,that’s yours,” Ryan says. He briefly pulls the phone away tocroon something to his dog.

“Mine?”

“Meghad an extra,” Ryan says lightly. “Said I could give it towhoever I wanted.”

“Areyou – serious?” Michael asks. Ryan goes silent for a moment.

“Thoughtit would be a good first date,” Ryan says. “If you – wanted itto be that. We can just go as friends, it’s okay - “

“Thecoffee wasn’t our first?” Michael jokes, his heart squeezing upin his chest and Ryan’s bright, happy laugh doesn’t help.

“Seconddate, then,” Ryan concedes. “Youin?”

“I– yeah, yeah, I’m in.”

– 

Michaelcurses loudly when he reads the tag on the bag he picked up andglances sadly back at the customs gate, at the strict security guardskeeping a rigid eye on the people. Ryan’sstill in the air right now, a fuck-up with the seating chart andoverbooking meaning he got the next flight but his luggage got thisone – and Michael’s a tired, travel-weary idiot who forgot tocheck the tag.

Atleast this time it’s not as bad – Ryan should be over in a fewhours, but until then Michael’s stuck with his stuff inan unfamiliar hotel in an unfamiliar city with no more clothes thanthe ones on his back.

Michael’sphone rings hours later, while he’s flipping carelessly through TVchannels and seriouslyconsidering raiding the con snacks he knows Ryan has in his bag.

“Hey,”he says, putting it on speakerphone and muting the TV.

“Propertyof Michael Jones,” Ryan reads out. “Austin, Texas.”

“Yeah,shut up, okay, so I got the wrong bag,” Michael grumbles. Ryanlaughs and car horns honk behind him.

“Youshould really be more careful about this,” Ryan teases. “Or get adifferent bag.”

“Youget a different bag!”

– 

Michael’scostume is only loosely a cosplay, some scraps he put together tomake a semi-decent modern Link sort of thing – Ryan assures himit’s plenty fine, but when Michael sees Meg’s Zelda heimmediately realises he’s way out of his depth.

Still,he walks into that damn convention centre with a BJ Blazkowicz Ryanon his right and an Ocarina Zelda on his left, and determinednot to fuck up their costumes somehow.

It’samazing. It’s goddamn amazing and Ryan and Meg hit up all the gamebooths with him and the overpriced stalls – they split up for a fewpanels, Meg finds her other friends and splits for lunch while Ryanleads Michael outside to get some air and refuel, pulling snacks outof his hefty jacket with a grin and setting his guns aside to pullout some bottles of water.

“Ohgod thank you,”Michael gasps, cracking one open and downing half of it in one go asRyan chuckles beside him, tearing open the fruit snacks and tippingthem into his mouth without touching his grimed-up gloves.

Theyconverse quietly against the warm railing, basking in the sun andsharing snacks as they laugh and talk – at one point Michael inchescloser and Ryan twists a little to face him better and Michael’sheart does backflipswhen Ryan smiles at him.

“What’veyou got planned next, big guy?” Michael asks, a bottle danglingfrom his fingers as Ryan shrugs and looks him over.

“Inthe next hour or in the next minute?” He asks.

“Youplan to the minute?”

“Somethings.” Ryan’s eyes drop to Michael’s lips and – oh– oh, that’s whathe means. Michael nervously licks his lips and Ryan’s cheeks flushthat familiar faint pink again when Michael steps even closer, barelyany space between them.

“Sowhat is your plan for the next minute?” Michael asks, tilting hishead.

Inresponse, Ryan simply cups his jaw and leans in for a gentle kiss,softly pressing their lips together and then a little harder whenMichael sighs against him, butterflies dancing in his chest at thesimple, electric touchof Ryan’s mouth.

Ryanhums contentedly and Michael places a hand on his neck to encouragehim closer, captivated by theslow way Ryan sinks into him, the easy way his lips move andMichael’s just aboutto open his mouth -

Acamera shutter goes off and startles them into each other, Ryan’sforehead bashing against Michael’s and Michael’s nose rubbed inthe makeupped grime on Ryan’s cheek.

Michaelsprings apart to snap at the assholephotographer and finds it none other than hisasshole photographer, with that stupid happy grin and that stupidexpensive camera and –

“Gavinwhat the fuck are you doing here?!”

“Meginvited me,” he says simply, tongue poking out between his lips.

“Didyou know about this?” Michael asks, whirling on an awfullysheepish Ryan.

“Maybe,”he allows. “He was –going to take pictures later, for us.”

Michaelsquints at him.

“Ididn’t know he’d do this!”Ryan protests, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It’sa good photo, though,” Gavin adds, stepping forward to showMichael. “’S sweet.”

“Youasshole,” Michaelmutters, grabbing the camera to turn the screen towards him. Fuck,it is a good photo.Fuck Gavin and his fuckingamazing photography skills.

“Asshole,”Michael murmurs again, more reluctantly, and Ryan peers over hisshoulder to study the picture.

“It’sgood,” Ryan says, glancing up at Gavin. “Great shot.”

“Thanks,Ryan,” Gavin chirps, grinningsmugly at Michael. “See? He’snice.”

“HeyRyan, stop encouraging dipshit.”

“Oi!”

– 

“Hey.”

“Hey,what’s up?”

“Eh,nothing much, just callin’. How’reyou?”

“Yeah,yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for Friday, by the way, it was really fun.”

“Yeah,it was for – me, too. Thanks for letting me stay over.”

“I,uh – of course. Yeah.”

“SorryI stole your shirt.”

“Bringit back next time and we’re even.”

“…justbring it back?”

“Wearit.”

“Thatsounds like the Ryan I know.” A pause. “Oh, yeah, actually, I didcall to say something.”

“Hm?”

“Igot a new bag.”

“I– really?”

“Yeah,it’s bright fuckin’ red, can’t be missed.”

“I,uh, I got a new one, too.”

“Ohyeah? What colour?”

“…red.”

“Ryan.”

“No,wait, wait – what brand is yours?”

“It’sAL, it’s the, uh, the AL All-day large - “

“ -large compartment storage case?”

“Michael?”

“…”

“Michael?”

“Areyou telling me we got the same fucking bag,Ryan goddamn Haywood?!”

“Greatminds think alike?”

“Thesame fucking bag?!”

#ragehappy #myan #fanfic #mine #my myan #prompt reply