if i don’t write something by the end of the week, someone shoot me.
*sits you down and makes you sit through a horrible interpretative dance about how much i already adore you because yes, we have another one*
Killing him is all right, I guess. I’m working with someone who’s killing him off already, and in turn I’m killing Clark!
What do you have in mind? :D
So, what’s the prompt?
That’s up to you, I guess. It’s a very vague challenge, so AUs and all that are okay… as long as you kill someone.
I’ve got to ask, is anyone willing to kill off a couple of characters with me?
I saw this challenge on fanfiction.net and I have honestly been aching to do it. It’s basically an angsty fic for an OTP, a”who could kill who better” scenario. So if, for example, the pairing we agree on is Mine, then I get to kill Micah, and my partner in crime gets to kill Shane.
Send me a message if you’re interested!
Hi! :) I’ve never been good at explaining why I ship things, but it’s kinda like this:
In the beginning I didn’t think about them much either, you know, too focused on the ships that were actually happening or so damn near close to even spare a thought for what once was. They were together, loved each other, took care of each other—past tense.
But then I saw things when Micah came back, small, hardly noticeable things that I completely blew out of proportion. The things that we Mine shippers hold on to. Like how they had a good foundation of their relationship, how they were still able to find one another in the midst of so a tragedy. The fact that their love was able to transcend both the time and distance that was put between them; that Micah never yelled, never got angry at anyone, at Shane, for what happened when he got back; that Shane said that he’d never let his father hurt anyone he loves ever again; that they clung onto each other after the fire, etc.
These things, I guess, made me realize that no, they are, in fact not over. That these two beautiful, selfless individuals will never stop loving each each other, present tense—and are, in every sense of the word, soulmates. Even if they’re not meant to be together.
If I find out that you ship Mine, I will automatically want to get to know you, and hug you, and take your hand so we can go off and cry over our beautiful, tragic ship together.
Hi! :D The gif is from the movie Killing Bono.
Yeah, of course!
Just remember that the quality of my fic will vary from all right to chicken shit. :D
Micah returns to Ohio for the first time in months that summer, but it doesn’t take him long to find his destination. Everything does feel like a distant memory to him now, but he thinks it’s also like riding a bike, and old habits are relatively easy to fall back to.
He walks over then, and drops to his knees, unfazed by all the dirt that suddenly clings onto his faded jeans.
“Hi Jude,” Micah murmurs softly, as he reaches out to brush his fingers against the white marble headstone. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’m not used to this.”
Julian nudges their shoulders together. “What? Caring about what other people think of you?”
“Yeah.” Logan gives a weak laugh. “Isn’t that dumb?”
“We’re friends,” Julian offers patiently. “Friends are supposed to care about each other’s feelings and all that other shit.”
“Yeah, well…” Logan begins, sounding unsure, “You’re the first person who isn’t friends with me because…”
He trails off, stays quiet for a long time, and Julian knows it’s because if he continues it’ll be too much for him, like if he shares too much of his soul things will probably blow up in his face again.
“I’m not friends with you because I have to be. I really do want to be. Friends with you, that is.” Julian says honestly, but it sounds like such a cheesy line from a movie that both boys can’t help but snort a little.
THANK YOU GINA. YOU ARE FAR, FAR TOO KIND AND DON’T WORRY, I AM TOO INVESTED IN THIS SHIP TO EVER STOP.
When I say “I will go down with this ship” I don’t mean “Watta fantastic ship, may all the good children be graced by its perfection”. I mean like I will go down with this ship. I will casually survey the damage when the show ends and I’ll see the characters get their endings and I’ll watch my fellow shippers board onto lifeboats and leave as my ship slowly, gracelessly sinks and I’ll go into the control room and grab the steering wheel. And, I’ll look into the sea and the waves that are the new shows will crash around me and I’ll cry softly. I’ll touch the splintering wood and whisper, we sailed for a good while, didn’t we? Thanks for everything. And, I will. Go down. With. This. Ship.
Shane, Micah begins unsteadily.
The point of his pen comes to an abrupt halt mere centimeters away from the tissue paper when it starts to tear. Micah sighs heavily, contemplates about setting his pen down, but ultimately decides against it. Then he starts again, his grip on the pen not as tight, his handwriting neat and solid, but almost impossible to read.
Shane, we’re flying above the city now, and all the bright lights remind me of you…
how do you even hate someone like micah randall, man?
Yeah, go ahead!
(sits here and eagerly awaits posts on your writing blog)
listentotherush answered: putting up the christmas tree, derian?
Julian can’t remember the last time he decorated a Christmas tree.
A huge tree would be delivered to his mother’s house every year, sure, but he’s never around to catch more than a glimpse of it, let alone decorate it. Even when his parents were together, his father had been busy with his films, and his mother focused on getting him one movie role after another. The most Christmas-spirited event Julian can remember is probably when his mother booked him a Christmas-themed photo shoot, complete with a new fake family with just as fake smiles, and a real turkey that Dolce Larson didn’t let him eat afterwards.
Derek knows all this, after years of friendship, so one year he forces, ah, persuades Julian to come home with him during the holidays.
blainewantsallthecocks answered: Mine getting each other for Fab Fiv secret santa
Erin wakes him early on Christmas morning, with a gratuitous phone call and a wave of giddy happiness that could rival that of a six year old’s. She tells him to arrive at the Anderson’s house a little before five, so he can work on the hot chocolate that he apparently has a knack for making.
“And don’t forget to bring your Secret Santa present,” the redhead reminds him.