#I HAD TO PUT THIS IN A DOC AND I WAS WRITING IN BETWEEN CLASSES WAH

[mark-seins]

May I please ask 3 and 9? For.. hmm. I can’t decide between Mimi and Hoa Sen. So how about both? Is that alright?

(Answer for the ask game: self insert lore!)

hi void! Yes absolutely you can ask for both! That means i can ramble about both my beloveds hehe~

3. how do the other characters generally feel about your self insert?

For Hoa Sen, the Dandelions consider him as Ephemer’s right hand man. Though if we’re considering specifics... sans Ephemer since I’m assuming this question asks for other people BUT the f/o ehe.

Skuld first met Hoa Sen at the fountain when he was searching for Ephemer. Hilarious story, Skuld was a bit cautious about Hoa Sen considering how quiet he once was and she generally wasn’t the type to hang around with secretive people. She only then realized Hoa Sen was a chatterbox but only when he gets comfortable and knew the person well. From there, Skuld and Hoa Sen were absolute yappers in arms - and also try to help each other ask their crushes out. (Skuld helps Hoa Sen get with Ephemer while Hoa Sen helps Skuld get with Mayuri who’s a party member of Hoa Sen’s party: The Unchained)

Brain was Hoa Sen’s ex. Yes. You heard me right. They both sort of had a bad fall out and when they saw each other again in the Computer Room it was SUPER awkward. However, being able to see each other again gave Hoa Sen and Brain the closure they needed. They usually bicker to each other but it’s not out of malice but platonic affection. Brain gets annoyed when Hoa Sen purposely gets on his nerves, but he always found a good come back to shut him up!~ I’m sure once missing link comes out (cries) I’ll definitely develop more of their relationship post-KHUx especially as Hoa Sen reincarnates in his second life as Hoa Dao (My KHML self-insert oc).

Lauriam didn’t know Hoa Sen well outside of passing by and being acquainted after missions. When he became a Dandelion Leader, he started to learn about Hoa Sen more when he met Ephemer, and at some point the two met each other and Lauriam admitted that he didn’t expect Hoa Sen to be -... different than he appear. By that he means Hoa Sen exerted a cold, leaderly attitude with his team that to see Hoa Sen laid back and goofy the next hour was almost jarring for Lauriam in a interesting way.

Ventus sees Hoa Sen as an older brother figure. He follows him around like a little duckling and tends to ask Hoa Sen for any fun outings to spend time together. He wished he built a snowman with Hoa Sen... but... wait... who was he talking about..?

For Mimi, the people in Tatsumiyajima generally welcome and love her. At first, Fumihiko was unsure of Mimi due to her mysterious origins (she is a reincarnation of a god/eldritch species so to speak) and was skeptical around her while she was young due to her unique nature. However, gaining Kazuki’s trust gave Fumihiko a reason to trust her as well. Maya genuinely sympathizes with Mimi - being someone rather lonesome with a place she doesn’t know whether she belonged anywhere in the world, and treats Mimi very kindly. She was really glad that Miwa, her niece had someone around her age to be very close to.

9. who are your self insert’s closest friends?

Unironically, both Hoa Sen and Mimi are closest to each other. Close enough to be mistaken as lovers, but as close as family can be. They are incarnations of gods whose battle determined the fate of the world - of eternal life, or eternal death. However, life and death cannot live without the other.

I think an example that can portray how much the two care for one another is how the two help each other learn of the morals they once did not understand. Mimi never understood how death can be so natural to life because of the grief that follows, but she understood through her journey with Hoa Sen that death is - at most, the solution to let go of grief as death can bring peace than eternal life. Hoa Sen in contrast, learns of the value of life through how much joy and love Mimi shares - that even as death is inevitable there is always time to share the beauty of being alive. Mimi and Hoa Sen are foils, and it’s beautiful of them to learn about humanity which their destiny lies upon.

[zerokaram]

inexperienced, confused sub!abby drabble

ways to help palestine🇵🇸

a/n: this is like super DUPER short, i literally wrote this in class so please bear with me on this, but i hope you guys enjoy it regardless. And thanks to @zdsfv for motivating me to write this !! If i should write a part 2 to this, lmk and i’ll sprint to my google docs

cw: fingering, sex, other inappropriate stuff, abby being inexperienced, abby being confused, reader being a tease, sex with (a kind of) plot, eating out, and swearing.

she had been surrounded by numerous people—girls, who liked other girls. so it really wasn’t a foreign concept. but to engage in those type of relationships herself was a whole new world of discoveries, and ones that she would never really be ready for.

so when she was stationed on the edge of your bed—your head in between her legs with your hands wrapped around her muscular thighs that had now went limp and weak for the first time, it was safe to say that it was confusing the living shit out of her.

the poor girl was just so, extremely confused :((. she had never felt the sensation before, not from any of the guys shes liked in her life. she had never felt the way her heart beat sped up, the way her gasps for air had been restrained to just small little whimpers, the way she shuddered at your touch, the way she couldn’t help but feel like she wanted so much more—and not to mention, from a woman.

she was just so fucking adorable. she didn’t even know what to do with herself either—it was obvious in the sounds that she made, how helpless she really was, despite the tough front she had to put on.

“F—Fuck…please—god!”

she grabbed onto your head—in between her legs, nestling her hands in your hair as the strands intertwined between her fingers, grabbing onto your for even just a little bit of stability.

she may have been known as one of isaacs best recruits in the wlf—one of the strongest at that. but here? She was yours. You had her wrapped around your finger and you fucking knew it. It was evident in the way your fingers pounded into her mercilessly while your tongue circled around her clit—the way that she reacted to it, you don’t know how she didn’t realize she liked girls sooner.

as much as the situation had already stimulated her out of her own mind, your teasing and quite frankly—humiliating coos added to her confusion.

“S-shit…so fuckin’ wet. Owen could never fuck you like this could he? Huh? isn’t that right?” you groan, holding her hands and giving her a light kiss on her clit.

she moaned endlessly—-the pleasure didn’t stop surging into her body over, and over, and over. her mind went blank, letting out only mutters and mumbles as her body that was once strong—now weak, completely gave out to your merciless doings.

“Holy—-Fuck! O-oh god..”

this was only the start of it.

[kwamiwayzz]

Class of '09 Fic Rec List

(Art by Phrogpole on Twitter)

I created a doc sometime ago that included fic recs outside of Jecka/Nicole, but it ended up getting to a point where I started adding fics for pairings that I haven't read (or if I'll even read). It started feeling less honest, and I didn't want to bullshit it. So, now I'm creating this to include any fics I've read that I enjoyed or thought were good/well-written.

General:

Nicole-Fucking-Yu by VirginiaBurke - A fic that starts off similarly to the games, but Nicole is half-Asian. As someone who follows the Wasian Nicole headcanon pretty hard, this was such fun read. Unfortunately, it's incomplete, and I'm not sure if the author plans on updating it or finishing it. It's an interesting character study as well since Nicole's added minority status puts an extra layer to how she interacts with others and how others interact with her.

Solemates by Queen_Bae - Formatting issues aside, I think for the author’s first fic, this had some of the best characterization of Nicole that balances between maintaining her cluster B behavior with some of her more sympathetic traits. It also manages to merge two routes from Flip Side in a satisfying way that makes the canon version feel more like fanfiction than this one.

Life’s Like This by nutal - For people who just played Flip Side and were devastated by that one ending where Jecka left Nicole hanging, this is for you. The dialogue of Jecka trying to convince Nicole not to off herself was pretty funny and sweet. It's also considered a friendship fic which was why I didn't include this in my previous Jeckole fic rec lists.

Aricole:

I Won’t Lose (You) by ThaneOfVainglory - It's a Dead Dove fic in the sense that the themes and abuse are very heavy here. This is a canon divergent fic where Nicole tries to convince Ari to keep dating her after the counselor gave Ari the unintentional revelation that she was in an abusive relationship. Don't expect any happy endings for any character here, including Nicole, because the whole atmosphere of this fic hones in very closely on how vile Nicole can be. Personally, it may not be my favorite version of her, but reading the descent of their relationship was so interesting. If you're looking for a dark fic, especially an Aricole one, this one is for you.

Fishing For Love by ThaneOfVainglory - Ari and Nicole go on a fishing trip with Ari's dad. As usual, Nicole is an asshole here. What's new? But I think what I liked about this fic was how the codependency was written, even if it was only stated (not exactly shown) when Nicole was talking to Ari's dad. Despite Nicole being demeaning to Ari, Ari doesn't mind it (to an extent; or maybe she continues to gaslight herself, who knows). She's trying to work shit out in her fucked up brain, but the thought of being alone terrifies her to no end.

In Sickness And In Health by ThaneOfVainglory - I mostly thought the way the Aricole dynamic was written was pretty interesting. Ari falls ill, and it's the one time Nicole thinks to herself if she actually cares about her through all the abuse.

Off Target by Progman - The dynamic here is as fucked up and toxic as it gets for Aricole. Maybe not to the same degree as how ThaneOfVainglory writes them, but close enough.

Emicole:

Ecstasy by uxugxrl - As someone who doesn't really read a lot of Emily/Nicole, this fic captured Emily's unmedicated BPD brain pretty well (at least in my opinion). Emily worships the ground Nicole walks on, yet won't hesitate to slice her if she as so much seems to be looking down on her.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for trying to block evade?

This happened several years ago, so I'll put the ages that we were at the time.

I [17F at the time], had an extremely close friend [17F] of 3+ years, and I still haven't found any kind of friendship that came close to the level of trust / openness that was there. So some of this backstory ranges from 14yrs to 17yrs.

My home was abusive, and she and her mom helped me figure out what was rational vs irrational, normal vs not normal, and pointing out local resources to get help - which was absolutely amazing and I could not thank them enough.

She invited me to her house pretty regularly, a couple times a week. We'd have hours of skype calls. She got me roped into Undertale & the fandom. Well, not that we really interacted with the fandom at large. We only publically posted some of the art and barely got noticed haha. Between the two of us, we had something like 26 AUs and had a lot of rp with multiverse shenanigans - like over 1200+ pages of google docs rp, because that's where we did like 90% of it. After we hit like 100-200 pages, we'd make a new doc so it wouldn't take so long to load. And we had like, at least like 9 docs I think. I was mostly in it for her, because it was really fun to just make up stories together. I could've done it with any fandom she threw at me, undertale is just the one that was popular at the time.

At one point, I think when we were around 16, I asked her if she wanted to start dating. She said something along the lines of maybe in the future, but not right now - she wanted to focus on school. Even though she declined at the time, she did say she appreciated me asking and that it meant a lot to her. And there were 0 hard feelings about the answer, we just kept on going the way we were going.

She got hit with a really bad level of depression, and stopped coming to school. After 2-3 days, I started calling her every day around lunch time just to check in on her and see how she was doing. See if there was anything I could do to help - bring some snacks, catch her up on classwork for the couple classes we shared, stuff like that. This was for couple months. More than just a mental health day, and the only reason she gave was Depression.

After a week or two of the daily calls, there was probably an aspect of toxic positivity on my end. Like "You gotta Do Something to avoid being trapped in your misery, even if it's just baby steps like sitting outside on the porch or going on a walk down the block" Not maliciously, but more out of not knowing how to handle a situation like this & genuinely wanting to help her because of all the help she's offered me in the past & fueled a little bit by fear because Depresssion is the excuse that my abusive parents used to justify their shitty behavior & neglect. Not because I was afraid of what she'd do to me, but more what she'd do to herself. That's one of the only things I could think where I went wrong, which I completely acknowledge and understand now.

She was still inviting me to her house, and we were still doing our normal thing there. Drawing and writing stories together.

After 4-5 weeks [? estimate, time is an illusion] of her not showing up to school, I can't remember if I asked if it was helpful or if she suggested that I stop calling every day. Calling every day was making her feel worse.

I did end up calling the next day or two at lunch - crossing the boundary was not my intent. We had planned to hang out on the weekend again, lunch is just when I remembered & had time to call to ask if she still wanted to hang out or if she wanted some space. I think she said yes to hanging out, didn't mention anything about crossing the boundary. Same with the next day - there was something I needed to ask clarification on, it wasn't a check in, nothing was mentioned of the boundary. I can't remember what it was now. This is another one of the places where I think I went wrong, which I acknowledge & understand.

I did stop the check ins like requested though. After those two off days, I did stop calling her every day at lunch.

She finished out the school year having shown up to class maybe 3ish times, I think.

Again, we were still hanging out regularly. There was no indication that I was doing anything wrong, there was no indication that anything I was doing was wrong. She was still the one inviting me to hang out at least half the time.

There were some problems that I was noticing that I just wanted to have a casual chat about and figure out, but she kept pushing it off as a "I don't have the energy right now, we can talk about it later" and we'd go back to the fun things. I don't really remember what those problems were.

In the summer, I went to a different state to visit my older sister that I hadn't seen in years. I talked to her about it, I was excited for it. We were still chatting regularly during my trip over skype or discord.

And then, during my trip that I was so excited about, she drops this bombshell. She sends me several massive messages detailing out a bullet point list of everything I've done wrong, that she's explicitly breaking off the friendship, and blocks me. 95% of things on that list either flat weren't true, or gross misunderstandings of what happened.

It was genuinely horrible things too.

For example, one of the things on the list was "Suicide baiting" or "Suicide guilt tripping" or something along those lines, which had happened several months if not a year before this. -I've only ever communicated feeling acutely suicidal to her 1 time. -Long before that, she made me promise that if I ever felt suicidal that I was supposed to immediately talk to her about it, for her own peace of mind so she wouldn't worry about me. -I reached a point of feeling acutely suicidal due to abuse at home & general existential dread, that happened to be during a time we had an issue.

I purposefully waited until after the issue was resolved, like 2 weeks, before telling her. I did that specifically so it would not be taken as a guilt trip or a form of coercion while still holding as true as I could to my promise. She made me promise to tell her, it was something very important to her. I made very clear to say "this is something I experienced a couple weeks ago due to unrelated things, it is resolved now, I got help through xyz means and genuinely feel better. You made me promise to tell you so I am telling you, I didn't want to say anything while we were having a problem for xyz reason." I just wanted to talk, and clear up the misunderstandings. I wanted to have a good conversation about figuring out where the communication went wrong, try and figure out how she came to these conclusions, and how that differs from my point of view. Do something to work it out, and just talk about it, and try and salvage this 3+ year friendship.

After I realized I was blocked, I was going through so so many emotions all at once. The whiplash of going from 5 to 100, Upset that I wasn't given any sort of chance to explain, the 5 stages of grief, being thrown away like the gum off your shoe, worrying about her and if this was the stage of isolation for depression, holding out the hope that we could still just talk and work things out, angry that she kept pushing off and refusing to have any sort of serious talk before this, doubting if anything she had said on 'normal vs not normal' - particularly communication styles, thoughts that maybe she was abusive and manipulative all along, maybe I was continuing the cycle of abuse, trauma flashbacks, anxieties that I had since squashed as 'irrational', fear that this was a sign that she was about to fucking kill herself and maybe the whole list was a lie so I wouldn't try and reach out and stop her, doubting my own reality and maybe the entire list she sent me was true and she was justified in her actions.

Simultaneously trying to process intense feelings and realities if it was true and I'm really secretly a horrible monster, if it wasn't true and she was about to die, and old traumas getting dug out of the grave.

God I was such an emotional wreck and did not know how to process or understand anything that was happening.

This is where the AITA comes in -

I was pushing through back to back panic attacks trying to contact her and figure out what was going on. I didn't want her to die, if that's what was happening. I didn't want to be discarded and thrown away like a piece of trash, if that's what was happening. I didn't want to have 0 chance of learning & growing as a person even if this friendship wasn't salvageable due to my monstrous nature, if that's what was happening.

So I block evaded like fckn crazy. Gmail, pet game sites, discord, skype, deviantart, whatever online platform that we shared that had messaging enabled. I called her phone several times. On the 3-4th call, her mom picked up and told me that none of the above was true. That she wasn't about to die, that I wasn't being thrown away like trash, and that I wasn't a monster. She didn't agree with her daughters actions and thought it unfair to me, but ultimately it was my friend's choice. All simultaneously which just did not compute.

If the list she sent me was true, I was a shitty horrible person. If it wasn't, and she isn't about to die, then not be able to just have a calm sit-down conversation at some point about it and clear it up - if I wasn't worth even attempting to make that effort then I was being thrown away like trash. I kept trying for days afterwards to talk to her - just, anything at all. Nothing got through, she never responded to anything.

And... that was that.

I didn't have a chance to talk to her again. I didn't have a chance to clear up misunderstandings, or understand what I did actually wrong and where, or any sort of closure.

Sometimes if I'm remembering it and feeling paranoid, I'll check and see if she's alive by looking at her online profiles for any activity. Like, maybe once a year tops now. According to the petgame sites, she's still alive at least. I'm assuming she got new social media. Literally it's just a "is she alive, do I have to worry about causing her suicide" check, I don't stalk or look into anything further than that.

Anyway, AITA for how extensively & desperately I was block evading?

What are these acronyms?

[cadys-ramblings]

I realized something recently: the reason I resonated so much with the secret history when I first read it was because richard's experiences are like a dramatic reflection of my own. subconsciously I knew there was something similar between us as I read it. for a long time, I just thought our personalities were similar. we share an MBTI type, one very few characters have, so of course I would lock on to one of the few, right?

now, as I have matured greatly, I realized that our similarities are far beyond our manner.

in 2022, I was spending hours a day on pinterest. I found my way into communities of like-minded girls who love pretty things like coffee and books and autumn leaves and cats and chunky sweaters. many of these girls labeled themselves with different aesthetics, namely coquette or dark academia or old money. I always considered myself "downtown girl." they always put their self care first, had the best makeup, the coolest doc martins, and the latest trending book (which is how I found the secret history, ironically.) though these aesthetic labels seem harmless on the outside, they had a great psychological affect on me that I only recently realized.

I built my pinterest account and taste in music and movies around this downtown girl aesthetic, as well as a few others I took interest in. I went paddle boarding with my best friend and took pictures of the sparkling lake to memorize how beautiful I felt in the moment. I redecorated my room and refreshed my wardrobe in hopes that people would see my photo dumps or outfits on the street and think, "wow, she is straight out of pinterest." many of these things I did genuinely enjoy. I still wear my big sweaters and bootcut jeans and I'm listening to my playlist full of taylor swift and the smiths as I write this. despite this, I still played up my enjoyment for other people to see.

it got especially bad when the school year started. after spending so much time on pinterest, I had idolized this group of girls with similar interests and ideas of 'aesthetics' to me, so that when I saw a pretty girl in my biology class carrying a latte and colleen hoover book, I wanted to drop everything to befriend her (ps, I don't like colleen hoover, it was just the idea that she was a 'reader' like me.)

I became so fixated on befriending her and her other friends, all swifties and readers and activists, that I neglected the great friends I already had. I didn't want to do activities that I couldn't document, either with photos or my mind, because it didn't fit my aesthetic. I wanted friends who would fit my aesthetic. looking back, this was one of the worst things I have ever done to my friends, even if I never told them about my real thoughts.

I think much of this issue stems from growing up knowing there was something different about me but never really knowing what. now, I know it's neurodivergence, but when I was younger, I couldn't understand why people thought I was weird. they never directly said it, but I could tell by the way they looked at me when I talked to them or how they made strange false assumptions about me they later confessed. I wanted nothing more than to fit in while still being myself, which I believe is why I was so attracted to the idea of aesthetics. my style naturally changed to something more 'socially acceptable' during this time and I was no longer being called emo bitch in the hallway. people would approach me or talk to me in class more than years before. I finally felt like I was being accepted by these 'normal' people. but, of course, I am not free from the shackles of being neurodivergent. these 'normal' people still eventually found me weird or felt there was something off about me. not to be dramatic, but richard being excluded from the bacchanal is a great allegory for being a weird girl to me.

I am obviously not performing rituals to bacchus or killing my friends, but I find richard to be an incredibly relatable character, so much so that I wonder if donna tartt wrote the secret history with similar experiences in mind.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Midnights

Pairings: Eugene Roe x f!reader Summary: Eugene and Y/n have been in love with each other since Toccoa. The pair final admit their feelings for each other and things get a little heated. Warnings: smut, sexual images, 18+, minors dni Disclaimer: any writing of Band of Brothers characters is strictly based of their fictional representation within the show and is meant as no disrespect to the real hero’s.

The beer was cool against Eugene’s lips as he raised the bottle, taking a long swig of the golden liquid. He watched the scene unfolding in front of him, as George Luz tried hopelessly to flirt with the poor barmaid who wasn’t the slightest bit interested. He’d been at it for the best part of an hour but he still hadn’t given up hope. Eugene and Babe Heffron gave up trying to help him, wanting to preserve what little dignity George still had left as the barmaid landed another wounding blow to his ego and resigned to a game of darts with Buck Compton and Joe Toye.

“The winner gets two packs of smokes?” Joe asked, twirling the dart delicately between his fingers, a smirk on his face.

“You’re on,” Babe replied, dragging Eugene with him who followed reluctantly, downing the rest of his beer before taking the darts from his friend and lining himself up with the board. “Go on Gene, show 'em what ya got.” Babe cheered, clapping his hands enthusiastically and causing a red tint to spread across Eugene’s cheeks. He threw the first two darts with ease, not letting the noise of the bar or the jeering from his comrades distract him. Before he threw the third dart, the door swung open letting in the cool evening breeze and sending a shiver down Eugene’s spine, a pleasant relief from the sticky sweat beneath his class A uniform. His dark eyes moved to the door where they met those of a certain female medic who was smiling jovially and waving at a group of his fellow Easy Company men. Eugene gulped, averting his eyes back to the darts board when he felt a hand appear on his shoulder. “Do I notice a blush on those cheeks, Eugene?” Buck whispered into his ear, causing Gene to duck away from him.

“No…got nothin’ to blush about…just warm in here,” Eugene tugged at the collar of his uniform, emphasising how warm he was.

“Sure thing, Doc,” Buck smirked at him as Eugene took his last turn before handing the darts off to Joe.

“Buck’s right you know,” Babe chimed in, following Eugene as he retreated to the bar. “You’ve just gotta talk to her, she’s a nice gal and if the way she’s been looking over here all night I reckon she feels the same way.”

Eugene leant forward, coughing frantically on the sip of beer he’d just taken.

“Christ Gene, don’t die on me,” Babe laughed, slapping the medics back playfully. Eugene gave Babe a stern glare causing the young paratrooper to put his hands up in mock surrender. “Just think about it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the evening drew on, Eugene found his senses dwindling from the alcohol he’d consumed. He’d somehow been drawn into a drinking game with Chuck and Floyd and could feel his brain begin to falter as he fumbled his way through the bar to a seat in the corner. Eugene's mind was swaying aimlessly when a familiar figure sat down beside him, equally wobbly from their alcohol intoxication.

“Hey Genie,” she blushed, running her hand through his dark locks causing him to freeze. “How’re you doing?” She mumbled, slumping down beside him.

“I… ’m okay… good…you?” Eugene gulped, glancing at Y/n as she grinned.

“I’m good but I’m even better now I’m here with you,” she grabbed ahold of his hands. “Do you want to get some air, it’s a little stuffy in here.” She bit her lip and batted her lashes. Eugene gulped again.

“Yeah, course…I’d…love to.”

Y/n grabbed hold of his hand, leading him between the crowds of paratroopers to the door, a few whistles and shouts of ‘go get her Gene’ followed them.

The cool air brushed Eugene’s face, bringing some relief from the stifling heat of the bar. Taking a deep breath and watching as the air left his lungs in a small puff into the night, he began to feel some relief.

“Eugene, I need to tell you something. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while and now that we’re going back into combat I need to tell you before it’s too late and I don’t get the chance,” Y/n rambled, reeling off the sentences in one breath without turning to face him. Eugene moved slowly, fearful of frightening the panicked woman who stood before him. They were facing each other but Y/n wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Y/n?” He squeezed her hands lightly causing her to look up, his eyes pleading with her.

“You don’t feel the same do you?” She asked, her bottom lip began to quiver and her eyes watery. The image broke Eugene’s heart and he quickly stepped forward pulling the young woman into his chest. Her shoulders shook a little and he rushed to comfort her. “Shhh mon amour, please don’tcha think that,” Eugene begged, pressing his lips firmly to her hairline in a desperate attempt to bring her some comfort.

“I have loved ya since I laid eyes on you, ain’t ya the most beautiful, strong and brave woman I ever seen,” this time it was Eugene’s turn to ramble. “I was just too afraid in case ya didn’t feel the same.”

Y/n looked up a little shell shocked from his confession. She’d never heard the Cajun man speak so plainly or so much that she wasn’t sure how to reply, instead she grabbed hold of his collar, pushing her lips to his. Eugene let out a small yelp of protest before he too cercumed to the kiss, winding his arms around her waist and holding her firmly against him.

When they pulled apart Y/n was smiling widely, “Do you maybe want to walk me to my billet?” She bit her lip, watching as the cogs of Eugene’s mind turned frantically.

“Y…yes,” he finally stuttered, taking hold of her arm and they began the short journey to the house where Y/n was staying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We shouldn't be doin’ this,” Eugene groaned as she began placing hot, open-mouth kisses along his jugular, nipping at the sensitive flesh. “Y/n.” His hands gripped ahold of her hips, stopping any movement and causing Y/n to look up, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him worriedly. Had she overstepped the line? Did he not want her? It had been pretty clear how he was feeling when he’d carried her up the stairs, stripping her of her clothes as they went. Y/n swiftly climbed off his lap, stepping away from him and straightening the nonexistent creases in her uniform shirt. “I'm sorry… Gene, I'm so sorry… I didn’t,” she began digressing, unable to meet his eyes as her lips ran wild, words tumbling from them at an embarrassingly rapid rate.

Eugene stood quickly, stepping over towards her and grasping hold of her hands, bringing them up to his lips and silencing her ramblings.

“It ain’t that at all, ma chérie, of course, I want ya. I've wanted ya for so long but I needa make sure ya want this too. I need to know how far ya wanna go with this because honestly,” he paused, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t think I'll be able to stop myself once we’ve started. God, I'm weak.” Eugene slumped back down on the bed, running his hand over his face with a low groan, “It’s just that I’ve never felt this way before and I know it's wrong and we shouldn’t but I…” Gene was silenced by Y/n’s lips pressing firmly to his, her hand winding around his neck and into his hair as his hands came to rest upon her hips.

“I want this, Gene,” she breathed, her breath fanning over the sensitive skin of his neck. “I want you.”

It was as if a switch flicked in Eugene’s mind because the next thing Y/n knew she was pinned beneath him, his strong arms resting on either side of her head, his mouth sucking deep bruises on her abdomen and his hands trailing down her sides, stroking her hips lovingly.

“Gene,” she gasped as he grazed his teeth along the skin of her lower abdomen. “God, yes Gene. Yes!” Eugene’s hands worked quickly, slipping her underwear down her legs and discarding them across the room, placing small kisses on her thighs.

Eugene couldn’t believe his luck when he looked up at Y/n, the woman he’d been in love with since Toccoa was here, beneath him, letting him make love to her. The smell of her hair, the soft moans that left her perfect mouth, and her salty, sweaty skin beneath his lips drove him wild. His lips worked quickly, lapping and kissing between her thighs until she was a moaning mess, hands fisted into the bedsheets, back arching off the bed.

“Eugene, please,” Y/n all but cried, fisting her hands into his dark locks, tugging him upwards to kiss him. Eugene’s lips curled up into a smirk, his dark eyes shining. “Please Gene, I need you.” She begged, pulling him flush against her body and fiddling at the buckle of his trousers desperately.

“Someone’s needy, ain’t ya Darlin’,” Gene asked, smoothing down the loose hairs from around her face. Y/n managed to slip her hand down into his underwear, fingers grazing against his hard cock, pulling it free from his trousers. Eugene let out a shaky breath, his hands stabilising himself against the headboard.

“God preserve me,” he muttered through gritted teeth as Y/n ran her thumb over his red tip. Y/n smiled up at him, running her other hand softly over his cheek.

“I love you, Eugene.”

“I love to too, Ma Chérie.” He sealed his lips to hers, stealing the air from her lungs. Gene’s hands shook with anticipation as he dragged the head of his cock up and down your sex agonisingly slow. Eugene let out a choked sound as he sunk into her, both of them reeling at the feeling of fullness. Y/n’s hands gripping tightly to his shoulders, leaving deep red marks on his pale flesh.

“You’re so tight,” he grunted, pulling back slightly before rocking himself forward. Y/n groaned, squeezing her pelvic muscles as Eugene bit back a pained whimper escaping from his plump lips.

Y/n chuckled slightly and did it again, his grip tightening on her hips and he sent her a warning glare. Eugene’s thrust became more desperate, needier. His hands moved to pin hers above her head, chests impossibly close.

The room was quickly filled with soft moans and needy whines as he brought her to the edge. Y/n’s eyes were closed, too consumed by the pleasure building in her stomach, the knot tightening deep in her abdomen.

“Look at me ma Chérie, I want to see ya. I need ya to look at me.” Eugene pleaded, his voice strained as he too fought his orgasm. As Y/n opened her eyes the band snapped and she was sent spiraling into her ecstasy, hips bucking upwards uncontrollably. Eugene soon followed, cumming with a loud cry as he buried his head into her neck, loud breaths muffled by her flesh.

The couple lay there for a few minutes, both too exhausted to move or speak, too wrapped up in their moment of satisfaction.

“Eugene,” Y/n spoke slowly, carding her fingers through his locks. Eugene let out a small hum in response, tilting his head to look at her. “Thank you.”

“What for, Darlin’?” He asked, propping himself up above her.

“For this. For making me feel this way… for loving me,” she admitted sheepishly. Eugene's normally shy features burst with love, his smile growing wider than ever. “It weren’t difficult ma Chérie. It was real easy to love you and I found it impossible to stop myself from loving ya.” He admitted, a red hue growing across his cheeks causing Y/n to smile too.

“Well, I’m very glad you didn’t stop yourself. I love you.” She caressed his cheek, leaning their foreheads together lovingly. “As do I, ma Chérie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @maggiescarborough @mayhem24-7forever @ssprayberrythings @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @elenavampire21 @callmemana @t-nd-rfoot @desert-fern @cherrycola27 @jstarr86 @starkleila @alexxavicry @roostette @floralfloyd @soulmates8 @mayhemmanaged @shanimallina87 @shadowsintheknight @bcon24 @yeahcurrahhe-e @iceman-kazansky @softly-writes

[dao-the-starlight]

A Gift for Clxudy Xuan

SURPRISE!!! It's my secret santa gift for the lovely @clxudyxuan for the @olnfsecretsanta2024 event!

A/N to my giftee Xuan: MERRY CHRISTMAS XUAN!!!! It’s me, your secret Santa!!! Before I say anything let me just say I'M SO SORRY for getting this in a day late!! In my time zone, it’s only just the 15th today, so for me the gift exchange happened a day early, and once I realized I had to scramble to my doc and make any changes and tweaks I wanted to. I hope you enjoy this gift, it was incredibly fun to make and I'm so glad I got to make this. I was in a constant fist-fight with writer’s block the entire time I made this so I’m incredibly sorry if there are some errors here and there in the writing, I tried my absolute best to give you the best gift for the holidays! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Xuan!! 🎄🎄🎄

Word Count: Roughly 2.9k Words

Credit to @/saradika-graphics for the headers

“In ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’, Shakespeare explores themes of the relationships between people and the many hardships that can come with it. Choose three pieces of evidence from the play that support these themes and write, in your own words, an Analytical Essay to show your understanding of the play.”

The monotonous ticking of an ornate clock on a desk served as the only noise in Elise’s bedroom as she stared daggers at the assignment laid in front of her. Winter break had finally arrived at Riverview Peak High School, though the “break” part of the event seemed to be a total lie as the teachers had decided it was a truly wonderful idea to give their students a pile of assignments to complete by the end of the break. “It’s to prepare for your exams!!”, they’d all say. Sure. Fine. That made sense, but why call it a Winter Break then??

If you asked any fellow classmate, they’d tell you that this was the teacher’s dumb way to keep annoying their students. Though to Elise, this was the worst fate that could’ve fallen upon her. She was very eager for winter break, delighted for it even, finally after months of assignments and quizzes and the constant non-stop threat of her grades lowering, Elise was ecstatic at the fact that she could have finally gotten a long break for herself. She had even already planned how she wanted to spend her break, quality time with Mom, practice her piano and singing (and hopefully master that song she hoped to perform for Christmas), and have some winter adventures with her friends, without any bickering this time. But she’s already one week into the break and all she’s done is work work work. Chipping away at the assignments pushed onto her already heavy load.

“Maybe I’m cursed.” Elise would think, “I was too excited for the break, but my grades slipped after I bombed that last math test, so now I’m cursed with more work until I can fix it. I should’ve known that would’ve come back to bite me!”

It certainly didn’t help that Elise had already fallen behind on some of her classes, so now the assignments she had to finish before January felt neverending. Once she managed to finish one and shove it back into her “Finished Assignments” folder, three more assignments would appear to bug her. The past week had mostly been focused on Elise’s math work, booklets, worksheets, mini quizzes, and the occasional “artistic” project to “shake things up” as her teacher would put it. Eventually, it had all become too much, if Elise had to look at one more nonsensical math equation, she thinks she would’ve gone mad. So, even if there was still more to do, Elise switched over to her English assignments, which brings her to now, staring so harshly at her paper that she could have burned a hole straight through it.

It was easy really, just write an essay on a play the class had been studying for weeks, simple enough. Elise had written a bunch of essays during this semester and always excelled as she ought to. This should be a walk in the park! But… Whenever she looked at her assignment and tried to plan out what she could write… nothing came up. She blanked on everything. It was like she got hit with amnesia overnight, every time she tried to recall the events of the play all she got were vague blurry afterimages of things she couldn’t put into words.

Elise wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and cry and tear up this paper into scraps, but she couldn’t get the energy to even try. She had to get everything finished now. She couldn't bear to think about what might happen to her grades if she didn’t finish everything in time. But right now, the only thing she could muster the energy for was to pitifully let her head fall onto her desk, not even acknowledging the pain that shot through her forehead as her head hit the wood.

“Maybe if I stay right here like this, everything will be fine…” she thought to herself.

…

……

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK’

“Elise? Are you awake yet?” The muffled voice of Elise’s mom called from just outside her room door, giving the girl possibly the biggest shock of her life.

Elise shouted… something. Honestly, with her tired mind still catching up to her body, she couldn’t tell if she had shouted a quick “Yes I’m awake!!” or “One second!!”, or maybe even something else entirely. Regardless of whatever words tumbled out of her mouth, Elise sprang up from her desk and immediately grabbed all of her assignments and schoolbooks to unceremoniously shove into whatever free drawers and other hide-y holes she could find.

Just as she shoved her last English assignment into her bag (crumpling it in the process, ugh.) her bedroom door creaked open and her mother peeked her head in, seeing Elise hunched over her backpack quietly grumbling about something.

“Elise…?” she called.

At the sound of her mother’s sudden voice behind her, Elise scrambled to get up to her feet and address her mom. Once she was standing she immediately began to fiddle with her appearance by pure instinct, smoothing out her hair and nightgown hastily and getting rid of any unsightly imperfections she physically saw on herself.

“Ugh I must be a mess right now…” she whined in her mind.

When she finally deemed herself presentable, she looked up to face her mother and oh she was not that close when Elise first heard her. She must have fully walked into the room at some point. Figuring that her mom was simply here to make a quick check-in on her daughter, Elise quickly first spoke to show that she was definitely fine.

“Good morning Mom! I was just looking over some old schoolwork! I wasn’t expecting you to come into my room so you scared me... Is breakfast ready?”

Perfectly cheery, see? She doesn’t sound tired at all! Definitely a perfect happy daughter for a perfect happy mother.

Elise’s mother, Opal, paused for a moment, her gaze flicking from her daughter’s slightly too-wide smile to the desk behind her with pencils and erasers and other stationary utensils strewn about. Without missing a beat, she looked back at her daughter and reached out to fondly brush her hand over her golden hair, slightly ruffling it up in the process. Elise tried her best not to bristle at the action.

Opal hummed, “Well, yes breakfast is ready. Buuut~ I also wanted to ask you about helping your mom with her lovely Christmas decorations for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow…?”, Elise thought, “What’s happening tomorrow- Oh my goodness I forgot.”

Tomorrow was December twenty-fourth meaning it was Christmas Eve, but not only was it Christmas Eve tomorrow, it was also the “Second Family Christmas Party!”, a party that Elise’s mother had thought up back when she and her daughter had first moved to Golden Grove. After seeing Elise make a new crew of friends, her mother thought it would be amazing to try and brighten up her first Christmas in a new town by inviting all of Elise’s friends and their families over for a Christmas celebration. She and her daughter spent days buying all of the most fancy Christmas decorations they could find, and spent the twenty-third putting them all around the house to turn into a winter wonderland, and come the day of the party everyone loved it! Since then the party has become a tradition for the Second Family, and it just so happens that the party was tomorrow. Elise hadn’t even noticed due to how much she occupied herself with schoolwork and nothing else.

“Oh!! Right. Tomorrow. I… almost forgot! I’d love to decorate with you!” Elise said with a timid strain to her voice.

Elise still had work, lots of work, she really couldn’t neglect it. But she also knows how much her mom loves setting up this party with her, “It’s my favourite part of Christmas!” she’d say, before quickly tacking on some spiel about how truly any time spent with her daughter was her favourite part of Christmas, Elise couldn’t let her mom down and break her heart like that.

Opal smiled, and patted her hair once again, “Thank you, dear. You can come on down when you’re ready, breakfast will be there on the table. I made your favourite”

She gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, for good measure Elise supposed, before stepping out of the bedroom and heading back downstairs.

Once her mother left, it felt like Elise had been dunked over the head with a bucket of ice-cold water. Pushing out a harsh sigh she crouched down and held her hands tight in her hair, not even caring at how unruly her locks became after fussing over it looking “presentable” mere moments before. In her lonesome, she was frantically running scenario after scenario through her head, desperately trying to figure out how she could fit in Christmas celebrations with her work. But in every single scenario, something had to be postponed, pushed back further into winter break meaning Elise had less time to finish everything. How was anything going to get done??

Eventually, after… Well, who knows how long, Elise’s body seemed to make a choice for her as her stomach growled loudly and the telltale pang of hunger racked through her body.

“Time for breakfast…” She mused, slowly standing back up and exciting her room to finally face the day.

~~~~

“Oh! I almost forgot about these! Elise? I have to touch up the lights outside before it gets too dark. Could you grab the rest of these crafts here and string them up around the living room for me?” Opal called.

“Will do Mom!” Elise hopped from the kitchen to the living room, passing her mom who was heading out to the front door on the way.

After Elise had headed down for breakfast (which she had to warm up cause she had in fact taken that long, sorry Mom), she saw her mother bringing out box after box of Christmas decorations and placing them out around the living room. Once Opal heard Elise coming down into the kitchen, she looked up and lit up with glee at the sight of her daughter, greeting her warmly again before continuing what she was doing. Seeing just how excited her mother got at something as “silly” as Christmas decorating, Elise couldn’t help but feel a warm fond feeling of nostalgia fill her chest. Maybe…. school could wait just a little longer… For her mom.

So now, here Elise was, shifting through one of the last boxes of the day. This particular box was filled with a plethora of fun Christmas-themed crafts that Elise and her friends had made during past parties before… things changed. But regardless of the present, these mementos of the past held a lot of memories that couldn’t be forgotten, so it was a pleasure to put them up around the house, lord knows the older Lin’s, Baumann’s, and Murray’s always appreciated it if the kids didn’t.

After around thirty minutes passed, Elise managed to go through everything in the crafts box except for one final thing. Laid there at the very bottom of the box was the very first craft Elise had ever made, a quaint paper and felt card featuring Elise and her closest friends, Qiu and Tamarack, as the main feature on the cover with the words "MERRY CHRISTMAS GOLDEN GROVE" drawn on over the felt with presumably some colourful sharpie pens. Elise reached into the box and pulled the card out, treating it as if it were made of the finest and most fragile glass in the whole world. She carefully ran her fingers over the edge of the felt that made up her felt self’s hair, unable to hold back the emotional grin that overtook her features. Moving over to her best friend's felt figures, she couldn’t help but giggle at the cute crudeness of it all.

The whole card had actually been Elise’s mom’s idea during the very first Christmas party she had. The kids (minus Ren, who at the time already had plans with the rest of the Murrays for Christmas Eve and therefore couldn’t attend) had gotten quite restless while waiting for their party gift exchange, and in their efforts to find something to do, they found a box of craft supplies that were stored in the hallway closet. Opal saw and gave the kids the idea of making a big gift card for themselves to celebrate their first Christmas together. And just like that the kids created a brand new Christmas tradition.

Funny. Elise never realized how many “traditions” she had made here in Golden Grove with her best friends and family surrounding Christmas. She wondered if that would keep going into adulthood. She really hoped it would…

Suddenly, she heard the sound of the front door opening and her now snow-covered mom shuffling into the house. She stood up and was met with the sight of her mother trying her best to shake off all the snow on her while also doing everything she could to not get snow everywhere inside the foyer, all while quietly muttering something about the cold and underestimating Golden Grove’s winter. Unable to hold back, Elise laughed before skipping over to her mom and helping her gather her winter gear and putting it away, earning a fond “Thank you Elise” from her mother during the shuffle.

Once everything was put away and Opal was officially declared “snow-free”, the mother-daughter duo walked out of the foyer and gazed upon the now beautifully decorated house, it truly looked like the house had transformed into a bite-sized version of a fantasy Christmas town.

Opal sighed, love and nostalgia swelling in her chest. 

“Oh, it gets more beautiful every year…” 

“Thank you, my dear. I couldn’t have done this without your teamwork.” she quickly turned to Elise and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Elise chuckled, murmuring a small “You’re welcome” as she moved to hug her mother. The embrace lasted for a few long seconds, both Opal and Elise silently taking in the moment. After the two finally deemed the hug satisfactory, Opal pulled back first with a smile on her face as she looked down at Elise.

“How about, to celebrate our efforts, we have a fun movie night? There’s some popcorn over in the pantry, I can cook some up and we can stay up as late as we want watching Christmas movies!” she suggested.

Elise was just about to eagerly accept her mother’s offer when suddenly she was yanked back to reality by her brain harshly reminding her of the schoolwork waiting back in her room, and her mother’s voice faded far into the background. She had almost forgotten entirely, how could she? There was still so much to be done and she practically wasted the whole day decorating. How was she going to get everything done? Well, there was the essay she tried to write this morning, but there were also some of the other math workbooks she left behind as well… Maybe if she started the essay now, she could-

“It’ll be a nice break for the both of us!” Opal suddenly exclaimed and placed her hands on Elise’s shoulders.

“A moment for us to wind down before all the business of Christmas. We both deserve it,” she added.

Elise only stared at her mother for a moment, unsure of what to say. She didn’t want to dismiss her mom, but she also absolutely couldn’t afford to push back her work any further, her grades could slip again. Though it seemed that Opal would make the final decision before Elise could.

Opal gently grabbed Elise’s hand and walked her towards the living room couch before letting her go to rummage through a nearby coffee table to find her collection of DVDs, musing on about how they could start their movie night with Elise’s favourite Christmas movie.

Elise’s mind failed to catch up with her body, she simply allowed her mom to pull her around and once she was in front of the couch all she did was sit down and wait for her mom.

“Well, I’m already here… I guess it’s too late to leave now.” Elise thought as she adjusted to sit more properly, exuding what she believed to be a more lady-like demeanour.

After rummaging around the DVD collection, Opal finally found just the movie she was looking for, “Ah! There you are. Elise, could you turn on the TV for me while I set up the DVD player?”

Elise muttered a quick “Sure” and reached for the remote, promptly pointing it at the TV and turning it on, just as her mother placed the DVD player up and running and placed the disk inside.

Opal walked back over to the couch and sat down right next to Elise, grabbing a nearby blanket and draping it over herself and her daughter, meanwhile, Elise fiddled around with the remote some more to get the TV to the right cable.

After all the setup, the movie could begin. Elise and Opal moved to get as comfy as possible under the blanket, Elise leaned against her mother and Opal wrapped her arm securely around her daughter. The two became snug as a bug just at the right time when the movie was beginning and classic Christmas music rang through the TV speakers.

“Merry Christmas, my dear,” Opal whispered.

“Mm… Merry Christmas Mom…” Elise couldn’t help but let out a very long, but content, sigh.

It was so nice to get a break.

……

“Oh dear- I forgot our popcorn!!”

Fin

Merry Christmas 🎅

[quinnyundertow]

Can I ask what got you into writing? I love your writing style and I'm so curious about your process as well.

This is such a sweet ask. I love it. This may be way more than what you were expecting haha. But I’m alone in the hospital and this feels cathartic.

I’ve always loved to write since I can remember. When I was in elementary school I remember getting yelled at and crying because I had to write a story about a thanksgiving turkeys adventure and mine was like twenty pages. They said it was too long and hurry up and I was frustrated because I wasn’t done!

I think what really solidified my love for writing is I needed fantasy to escape. In middle and early high school my parents divorced and I was bullied relentlessly. Gum put in my hair, things thrown at me, called fat at every opportunity. I had teachers that bullied me too for being fat. I was SA’d multiple times, depressed and started cutting. I’ve honestly tried to block most of it out.

The point is I had found anime and a few friends who loved it too. So any opportunity I had I begged friends to do writing journals with me. We’d make up a crack fic plots then write self insert and pass a notebook back and forth between classes every chapter for the next person to write. We wrote for Yugioh, Naruto, Dragonball Z, Fruits Basket popular ones at the time. I also wrote poetry, fanfics and original stories to try and escape anyway I could. Writing was the highlight of my teenage years. But other than that it was hell and you could never pay me enough money to repeat them.

I dropped out of Highschool from the bullying and my depression. But I studied and took a test for Highschool equivalency and then went to college and got straight As. College is nothing like Highschool. No one cares what you do. At least in my experience. I wanted to be a writer or manga artist but my father told me I wasn’t good enough and I wish I wouldn’t have taken it to heart and listened. I stopped writing for like ten years except for periodic ideas in notebooks until this last November.

Jujutsu Kaisen had become my comfort anime and then chapter 236 happened. I was so depressed I decided to try and read fanfics again. I’ve always read a lot of published books and was staggered to see a ton of fanfic writers were just as good if not better than published writers. After reading a ton of amazing works I decided I needed a fix it story that was ultimately happy for JJK and here we are.

Sorry if this was boring or too much. But if you take away something from this take this. Life is always changing. Tomorrow will not be the same as today. That much is guaranteed. If you have nothing left to live for then you have nothing to lose by trying something crazy or new. I was broken down to nothing by bullies, family issues, mental and physical health and I was incredibly suicidal. Somehow I found the will to try again. I got on depression and anxiety medication (still on to this day), worked for a higher education and took a shitty paying job to claw my way back up. My life is far from perfect but despite everything I worked hard to now have a boss babe high paying career and after restarting writing and meeting you all I’ve never been happier.

As far as a writing process I pretend I’m not going to post what I write and write it just for me. I ask myself what do I think would be the coolest thing to happen? What would I want to see next? Then I write it. Most of the time it sucks, or I don’t feel like writing it but I force it out. I make myself sit for 15 minutes and just write something. Then I rewrite it. Keep what parts I liked toss what feels off. Repeat. Eventually I’m having fun and loving the process.

When rewriting I’ll name them things like WICYG Chapter 12.2 for the second rewrite etc. I’ll screen shot my google doc so you can see the insanity haha. Sometimes I’ll rewrite four plus times. At the end of the day I want to love what I write and do it for me. Then when I find people that like it too it makes me over the moon happy. I hope one day to have the confidence to write my original stories in my head out. Writing fics for yall has definitely helped build my confidence as a writer.Thanks again for the ask anon sorry for the life story but I’ve never told people all that and it was healing to get out.

My messy google docs 🥹 Madhouse is Sanity Last Stop lol.

[queen-mabs-revenge]

Why Peter Parker Was Not 15 When He Was Bit: A Treatise

This was originally a twitter thread but in an effort to save the one thing I actually care about having posted there from whatever the fuck is going on, here we go!

While early on there aren't any outright 100% indisputable references to Peter's age (i.e. himself or Aunt May just saying it outright on the page), from the very beginning of publishing, there have been enough references that give a firm grounding to Peter being a senior in high school throughout the first 28 issues of Amazing Spider-Man.

ASM 8 (Jan 1964)

Right off the bat in Amazing Spider-Man 8 (a tribute to teenagers xoxo you will always be famous) we get our first definitive mention that Peter and his classmates are in their senior year of high-school at the very least from this point on in the narrative.

ASM 14 (Jul 1964); ASM Annual 1 (Oct 1964)

Peter himself states this 6 issues later trying to wheedle Aunt May into letting him go to Hollywood on assignment from JJJ to cover Spider-Man's cinematic debut in a film role offered to him by the Green Goblin (in his first comic appearance. When I say I love the Silver Age.) ASM Annual 1 confirms that the gang is in their senior year yet again.

This is already stupid long so the rest goes behind the cut!

This isn't something that's just dropped in the Silver Age and then forgotten. 26 years after those first mentions, Web of Spider-Man Annual 4 makes a call back to Amazing Spider-Man 3 and places that moment in Peter's senior year of high-school:

Left: WOS Annual 4 (Oct 1988); Right: ASM 3 (Jul 1963)

While on tour to promote the Bugle-produced book of his Spider-Man photography, WEBS, Peter states on a TV interview that a photo of his first encounter with Doc Ock was taken while he was a senior in high school.

"But Mabs," I hear you say, "so what if he's in his senior year in ASM! Even if that's true, that doesn't mean he was in his senior year in Amazing Fantasy 15, and that still doesn't establish an age! He's a super mega genius so like....he probably skipped grades, prodigy that he is! And there was a time gap btw AF15 and ASM1, right?"

Alright let's go through this. As mentioned earlier, yeah, references to Pete's age are very few and far between and are a bit wobbly but let's put them together. The first age ref we get is in ASM 16:

ASM 16 (Sep 1964)

Here our favorite public defender is "rescued" from a mugging by the webslinger. After Peter fucks off, Matt gives us the above rundown of Spidey's characteristics: about 17, 5'10" and in excellent health. So "about 17" which, granted, doesn't have to mean exactly 17 but since we've established that at this point Peter is def in senior year, based on NYS age matriculation dates, Matt's probably spot on.

New York State matriculates students based on the age they are on December 1st of a school year. A 1976 edition of school regulations lays out the process: "[a] child who attains the age of 5 by December 1 of the current school year must be admitted to the kindergarten if a district operates such a program". So this means that within the same kindergarten class, kids born from the beginning of the school year to November 30th would be turning 5, while kids born from December 1 through the end of the school year would turn 6 during the school year, and kids born over the summer would also turn 6 but wouldn't celebrate during the school year.

Following that, Sept through Nov babies would be 16-going-on-17 in the beginning of their senior year, Dec - June would be 17-going-on-18 during senior year, June - Aug would turn 18 after graduation.

Peter being 17 or 18 during the high-school run of ASM just makes sense and there's nothing in the writing up until this point to push against that! In fact, when you first start seeing the de-aging of Peter creep in, AF15 literally had to be changed to make a younger age fit!

AF 15 (Aug 1962)

ASM Annual 23 (Sep 1989)

The very first time we see 15 floated as an age when Peter becomes Spider-Man is in the Amazing Spider-Man annual 23 of 1989. The annual is trying to present itself as Peter scientifically studying his own origin story, so the direct parallels to AF15 make it really clear when it's retconning the original to make sense with the younger age.

The panel where ASMAnn23 states Peter is 15 is otherwise a near word-for-word quote of AF15. Then later, the cognate panel of Peter in science class changes AF15's "you're sure to rate a scholarship when you graduate" to "in a couple of years when you graduate, you're sure to rate a scholarship." (Gerry Conway back at it again). This is the first time there's ever a hint at his story not being centered around his senior year, and that was made explicit in this issue by changing the original dialogue in order to justify stating he was a 15 year old in this recollection of AF15!

This is also an argument against the 'skipped grades' premise. Conway could have easily just left the text of AF15 as it was which would hint that Peter was obviously very young for being a senior in high school, but instead he tried to push AF15 back in time to fit a usual high-school timeline for a 15 year old (who would be at the earliest a December baby in their freshman year and the latest a Sept-Nov baby in sophomore year, and would be 'a couple of years' away from graduating).

Plus, fr if you're gonna argue that he skipped grades, it's on you to prove that. There are literally zero references to that throughout 616 continuity so like, why tf should it be taken as given? Please.

Anyway. And so are sown the seeds for torturing the already stretched timeline to make Peter an uwu baby infant. They didn't take right away. References to age go away after this and only resurface in 1994 (as far as I could see), where we see him aged back up:

ASM 395 (Nov 1994)

'I can't believe I was only sixteen when that spider bit me' actually makes sense with all of ASM being established as fully in Peter's senior year, Matt gauging him at 'about 17' in ASM 14, the age matriculation cut off for NYS schools, and the timeframe established between AF15 and ASM Annual 1 from 1964:

ASM Annual 1 (Oct 1964)

ASM Annual 1 (which I mentioned earlier as yet another point establishing Peter as being in his senior year) also has this little timestamp. Peter is watching Aunt May mourn for Uncle Ben and mentions that Ben's death was 'months ago'. Granted, that's in no way specific but I feel like it establishes at least a rough timeframe for the intended time gap between AF15 and ASM -- and it's not years.

And to be honest, there's really only one space in the narrative that allows for a time gap at all (Stan is really attached to his 'a few minutes later!' 'later that day!' pacing let me tell you!)

AF 15 (Aug 1962) page 9, panel 1

While the narration box says 'In the days that follow' it seems like we can take that colloquially considering the stream of newspaper headlines. For all of that to take place, I feel like it's not a massive stretch to allow this panel at the very least a month or so, which gives a bit of breathing room between when Peter lets the burglar run away and when Uncle Ben is murdered. (Which if you think about it a delayed dropping of the other shoe actually makes it worse! So how about that!). But between this and ASMAnn1, I don't think you can argue for years taking place in this gap which would have to be the case for a 15-year-old bite timeframe.

So if Peter's bit his senior year, for him to be 16 when he's bit he has to be born between the beginning of the school year and November 30th (because school has to be in session when he's bit). Which fits with the official New York City 2012 declaration of his birthday being October 14:

If he's 16 when bit in his junior year (again, school has to be in sesh), you've got to decide when from December of his junior year to the end of the school year makes sense for him to be bit with the rest of the time markers and how long you're gonna give to the time skip in AF15 for it all to qualify as just 'months' up to ASMAnn1. Which definitely can be done, especially if you AF15 pages 1-8 near the end of his jr year, put the time skip over the summer between junior and senior year, and rest of pages 9-11 in his senior year. In some ways this option makes a bit more sense, to be honest!

The way I personally like to square it is to go with all of AF15 and ASM1-28 happening in Peter's senior year (which he reaches without skipping grades) interpreting the 'when you graduate' in the AF15 panel referring to the same school year. If he's 16, the bite happens sometime before his birthday which has to be before Nov. 30th and, sure, why not Oct 14 -- it fits. A month or so passes between when he gets bit and starts his show-biz stint, and when Ben gets murdered. That means the last 3 pages of AF15 (bar the first panel on pg 9) to ASM28 spans from some time in December of his senior year to the end of the school year.

(If you don't care if he was 16 or 17 when he was bit, AF15 - ASM28 can take place any time from the second half-ish of his junior year to the end of his senior year, you can decide how many 'months' the time skip is in AF15, pick his birthday out of a hat, and Matt's "about 17" could mean 18, too. Have a ball.)

But in any case whichever way you choose to spin it, this shit is dumb and wrong:

Civil War 2 (Aug 2006)

and especially deserves to be memory holed for the ridiculous de-aging of Peter Parker that has subsequently been pushed into popular memory and continues throughout current Marvel 'brand synergy'. Sad and bad!

[aqupistau]

— ☕️ⸯⸯ : g-docs chatroom﹙bbh﹚

warning: profanity

genres & trope: fluff, crack, and university!AU

pairing: byun baekhyun x gn!reader

word count: 0.89k (edited)

synopsis. an anonymous chinchilla has accessed the document.

An Anonymous Chinchilla has accessed the document.

"Who the actual fuck is with me in Google docs 3 in the morning?" You spat out loud, hair put up in a messy bun, and your wrists feeling like it would joint out of its socket any minute now. Being in the last years of high school wasn't lax like what you think it would be. Pressure of choosing the right course for college, financial plans for the future, you were in between the joys of high school and the dreaded phase of adulthood.

Currently, you were doing final editing and proofreading of the research paper of your assigned group, a work done by the group leader. Your group was a bit decent based on participation and team dynamic compared to others in the class, so there were times you suffered and times that you were a-okay, but they were never like you in terms of work ethic. You were active at night, you loved that everyone was asleep in the house, everything was quiet, and you could do anything without being spoken to in the middle of the night so who is this anonymous chinchilla in your document?

You brush your hands from the crumbs of your midnight snack and type on your keyboard on the chat room in the document.

Y/N: Who are you?

Anonymous Chinchilla: hi group leader! ( ≧∀≦)ノ

Their message and yours are sent at the same time and you flick an eyebrow up in curiosity. Emoticons? Who uses emoticons these days? Was it the assistant group leader? Or the one who hasn't finalized their part yet? No, that's too unlikely.

Anonymous Chinchilla: oh right, i'm baekhyun hehe. sorry, i didn't use my university acc to open this document (・＿・; i'm currently outside so i'm only using my phone (^人^)

Oh, it's Byun Baekhyun. That class clown, that noisy guy from the back rows of the classroom. He was, thankfully, a decent guy in your research group. Had a lot of questions, participative, consulted for your thoughts on his works, and would do their parts before their assigned deadline. Basically, the dream groupmate, but he never struck you as someone who was a night-owl. Although the more curious part of this is why would he be outside? Like outside of your house stalker scenario or outside of his house?

Y/N: …Why are you outside at 3 in the morning?

Anonymous Chinchilla: buying and eating midnight snacks hehe. i typically do this like 3x a week? but i'm currently frequenting the convenience store nowadays bcuz of research (||￣^￣||)

He's the oversharer type. How cute.

Y/N: Oh, I understand.

Anonymous Chinchilla: u're so stiff when you talk group leader just like irl ㅋㅋㅋ

Y/N: Sorry, I like my spelling and grammar right.

He takes a while to answer, and the three dots of him typing finally appear.

Anonymous Chinchilla: r u attacking me rn group leader? (;´д｀)

Y/N: No, please, I didn't mean it to insult you. It's just my habit when writing.

Anonymous Chinchilla: huhu, that's good. i thought u didn't like me or sumn but you can still understand my slangs right? i want to talk to u properly (ノ∀≦。)ノ

You snicker, a bit of your fatigue disappearing from your new entertainment. He's a fun guy, at least, and a good groupmate too. You haven't had a real conversation with him, nor anyone in your group too, so this was really fun and new for you.

Y/N: Your choices of emoticons are funny|

You take a while to send your message, contemplating if you should add emoticons just like what he does, just because. You decide to pick an emoticon that you can still remember.

Y/N: Your choices of emoticons are funny. XD

Anonymous Chinchilla: what is that…

Anonymous Chinchilla: is that the ancient laughing emoticon?

Anonymous Chinchilla: you're using boomer emoticons group leader HAHAHAHAH LMAO

How dare he. You were trying your best to make him feel included and he compares you to a boomer.

Anonymous Chinchilla: sorry, that was rlly cute. (≧∀≦*) i just had to.

Y/N: Yeah, right.

Anonymous Chinchilla: OH NO.

Anonymous Chinchilla: PLS I'M SORRY GROUP LEADER

Anonymous Chinchilla: I WON'T MAKE FUN OF YOUR CHOICE OF EMOTICONS AGAIN PLS DONT BE MAD !! ヽ(illﾟдﾟ)ﾉ

Anonymous Chinchilla: (*´Д`*)!! (⊃ Д)⊃≡ﾟ ﾟ(ﾟДﾟ≡ﾟДﾟ)ﾞ?

"Pfft—" You let out a laugh, no signs that you'd even be done any minute now. You hold your stomach as it starts to ache to the point your body warns you of the lack of oxygen and too much air coming out of your lungs, your hand smacking anything it lands on and claps enthusiastically like a happy trained seal. "Seriously, his choice of emoticons are hilarious. It's almost like I can hear and see him talking," While you were laughing your ass out loud and trying (yet failing) to calm yourself down, Baekhyun spams the chatroom anxiously.

Anonymous Chinchilla: group leader :"<<< im sorry pls forgive me. i just wanted to talk to you for once since you were always so occupied when i see you (/o＼)(/´△`＼) ○|￣|＿○|￣|＿ o(；д；o)

Anonymous Chinchilla: group leader?

Anonymous Chinchilla: group leaderrrr????

Anonymous Chinchilla: y/n??? (T0T)

You wipe tears of joy from your eyes and cheeks, exhaling out a sigh as a finale for your fit of laughter, and finally put your fingers on the keyboard, typing—

Y/N: I'm sorry for not replying. I had a hard time typing because you're so easy to tease HAHAH

Y/N: Thank you for making my night though =) You're very funny, Baekhyun.

And he takes a bit longer to reply after your message. What's wrong? Was he already on his way home? Was there no service in his area already? But he's still in an active status in the document.

Anonymous Chinchilla: what…what was that group leader… stop it, you're making my heart flutter (*/□＼*)

"This guy, really." You chuckle and take a bite of your bowl of chips beside the keyboard. You wondered why you haven't tried to have a real interaction with him before? You weren't aware that you didn't act approachable as a person, but you knew you were very hands-on as a leader.

Anonymous Chinchilla: oh! i have to get home now, group leader! are there any things you would like me to work on the research today? im willing to sleep late tonight even if we have classes later

Anonymous Chinchilla: (*・・)σo(ﾟ▽＾)ﾉ

Y/N: Nothing at the moment. We have a peer evaluation later with other groups from other classes in the afternoon so…

Why not be friends with him?

Anonymous Chinchilla: sooo????

Y/N: Are you fine if you can tag along with me later?

Anonymous Chinchilla: oh. my. god.

Anonymous Chinchilla: YES OFC

Anonymous Chinchilla: PLS LET ME ACCOMPANY U \( ´∀`)/~~

Anonymous Chinchilla: I WILL DO MY BEST GROUP LEADER (^–^)＼

He's very likable, you thought. Very easy to read and also expressive, for what you've seen. There are some cases where online and real-life people have different personas, but this didn't mind you. Unlike you, who has the same personality both online and in real life, you don't know if you'll be encountering the same Baekhyun you chatted right now. Even so, this conversation was enough for you to have the courage to approach him and befriend him later. You sincerely hoped you could be good friends with him.

Y/N: Okay. Have a good night, Baekhyun. Go back home safe =)

Anonymous Chinchilla: you too, group leader! good night ( ^-^)ノ∠※。.:*:・'°☆ wishing you a good sleep hehe

Anonymous Chinchilla: see you later in class! (^o^)／~~

The Anonymous Chinchilla has left the document.

© aqupistau. all rights reserved. ↬masterlist

[kesleyjo]

I'm having some finale wine and I think I've got it. My final resolute head canon of Riverdale.

Keep in mind I have not watched the end of season 5 through the end and have absolutely no intention to, but I've seen and heard enough about *gestures vaguely* all of that to still stand by this.

Disclaimer: I do not believe this is what the writers intended whatsoever. This is all my imagination. I do however believe in this canon whole heartedly and its as true to me as whatever RAS's vision is to him. You choose who to trust.

Okay so first and foremost the entire series is written by Jughead. It's all his writings that are probably all sitting in a google docs draft folder.

I justify this due to the following:

He is the narrator

The entire series is obsessed with Betty Cooper for good or ill (I'll get to it)

Its all kind of sort of been alluded to that its all Jughead's writings anyway. At least in S1, again. I'll get to the why of that in a second.

He started writing season 1 in his junior year (so a year after the events of the S1). He read In Cold Blood (on his own, not for class, very important to him that you all know this) and was like "Hey my town had a murder and I have some trauma around it, so I should totes do this." And thus S1 is born.

This is why that season is (relatively) more grounded and far more realistic than the rest of the series because its based on a real true thing that happened and the real feelings and emotions of people involved. It has the least amount of exaggeration (but enough, because Jughead) and has the most coherent plot, which would make sense since Jughead isn't making anything up, he is recalling events.

This is also the only season that directly ties Jughead's narration and the plot to the book Jughead is writing on page, and thus tying them both together. Because again, its a thing that really happened.

So the characterizations, motivations, and actions of everyone in season 1 is the model of how and how these characters actually are and are a base for further exaggeration.

Seasons 2-4 are also based on true events but are exaggerations/interpretations of things that really happened, but are altered to make them more interesting to Jughead's readers (heh).

I don't want this post to be a novel so here is a brief listing of that I am thinking here for some of the main plots (but if you have a plot you want me to fit into this canon let me know):

The Black Hood: When Jughead showed Betty his first manuscript (S1) the positive constructive criticism she gave was that, "True crime is really popular right now, so this fits in with the zeitgeist." And Jughead ran with it. Fred also had his first heart attack at this time...we all know where I'm going with that so I'll just leave that there. RIP.

Making Hal the Black Hood: Hal leaves the family after the Polly debacle and finding some racy pics on Betty's computer (she sent them to Jug, she wasn't a camgirl) and decides to start his life over with a woman who is far more moral (and probably like 2 years older than Polly)

The Serpents/Class War with Hiram: Not a gang, just those under the boot of the rich that Hiram tries to eradicate through good ol fashioned gentrification. Archie and Veronica also start spending more time doing rich people shit and that drives a divide between the two main couples of the core four. But less about political plots and more about teenagers growing apart because of different interests

Season 3: Putting this all together because Jughead was having a hard time finding a plot here. So he focused on Alice's new weird young boyfriend who actually ended up taking off with Polly (leaving her twins), his newfound obsession with DnD (Betty was exhaustedly supportive of this) and Kevin's endless talk about the new megachurch he just joined. He and Betty also started watching a lot of horror films and Hitchcock at the time which leads us to...

Season 4: He and Betty go off to different schools but its because of college, not because Jug is the chosen one (again see why he is writing all of this himself). He meets a lot of pretentious people that challenge his relationship with Betty and he turns it into a mystery.

So now we have made it to 4.17. Ugh.

Okay so Jughead has written all of this, and reading everything back feels that Archie and Betty (who go to the same college now and are friends again after growing apart after he dated Veronica) have grown too close and Jug self destructs.

He self sabotages so hard and makes a story up in his head that Betty would be much happier with Archie who is doing perfectly mediocre at college while Jughead flunked out.

So he and Betty break up after a lot of frustrated fighting.

And he begins to write Betty differently. Wildly differently.

(You can't tell me this doesn't make more sense than whatever the hell happened in the show.)

Jughead dejected from his failure at school and his breakup Writes on and off for the next few years. His next main attempt is S5. His attempt at more realistic writing.

(Its also after Betty enters his life again, because at her core Betty is his muse)

He works through his fictional frustrations of Betty and Archie as a possible couple (They never dated. Archie is actually a aromantic pansexual who does not do commitment) and realized that he made it all up and they have nothing in common.

Jughead and Betty get back together at the end of "Season 5" but Betty tells him that writing about their real life is what tore them apart, so he needs to not use their relationship in his writing anymore.

So Jughead decided to get weird and wildly experimental with his writing. And because Jughead is not a particularly good writer S6 and S7 are born.

Betty, absolutely running out of positive things to say about his last few writing attempts tells him that maybe these exaggerated versions of their lives that bear no resemblance to the real world have run their course, and he should try something new.

So Jughead wraps up this now unrecognizable series of writings and moves onto something new.

With Betty diligently serving as his editor. She got distracted with her new job and left him unattended for those last few seasons and look what happened.

Also I realize that Archie/Veronica/Cheryl/Toni are absent in this so briefly

Archie: He always was in awe of Archie and slightly jealous of what he perceived he had over Jughead...this is why he is the quasi-hero and also why he tortures Arch and treats him like an idiot.

Veronica: I cannot stress this enough. He and Veronica have no relationship. She is his friend's girlfriend and his girlfriend's best friend. The only thing he really knows about her is she is rich and hot. So he makes that her core personality and slaps on whatever traits fit her best for whatever plot he is writing at the time.

(This is also why almost all the women Veronica, Tabitha, Jessica, and Toni all are at some time his love interest. Self instert fan fic Jug. We see you.)

Cheryl/Toni: He and Toni are friends and Cheryl is her girlfriend who endlessly terrifies him. That is the core of her characterization.

I already regret the fact that I am sharing this long-winded mess with the world...but I can't take it back now.

Enjoy. And if you don't that is fine. It's my head canon not yours. Go make your own.

Have fun on finale night folks.

[rosesnink]

Red Threads of Fate (That Bind Us Together), Arc I- Black Thorne, White Rose (Pt. 1)

Author's Notes

Je suis back!! After months of not touching this series due to rl craziness, I'm back with COP stuff babey!! This arc will be an interesting one, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. That being said, read the warnings and bon appetit!

English isn't my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes

Some parts of the fic will look like they're highlighted. This is an editing errors due to my Word doc crashing many times, losing excerpts because my computer crashed. I know it's annoying, but please try to ignore it and enjoy the read

If you want to be tagged in my COP writing, let me know!

If you want to read more of my ILITW, TRR & D&D stuff, check out my masterlist!!

Summary: Nerea has been in Drakovia for a while, yet she feels very lonely. Meeting a certain Thorne will be eventful... to say the least

Word Count: 2.9k

Category: Romance, coming of age

Pairing: Vasili Thorne x F!OC, Sebastyan Thorne x F!OC (eventually) Marguerite Thorne x F!OC (Nerea Rose) (eventually), mentions of F!Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Neera Rose)

Rating: T

TW: There is a suggestive scene at the end, as well as mentions of discriminations against Romani people, reader's discretion is advised

Book: Crimes of Passion

Two months, six days, a hundred and two minutes and seven hundred minutes.

That’s how long Nerea Rose had been in Drakovia, and not one friend she had made. Sure, there were groups and people she had things in common, but she didn’t seem to have her crowd.

If one didn’t count Juliana Georgescu, but everybody got along fine with the countess. What a life she must lead, Nerea thought. Nevertheless, it seemed that power and wealth had a price, for her mothers had found her a suitor. The Crown Princess, no less. Absorbed in her own thoughts, she bumped into someone, dumping coffee and books all over the place. A small curse in Drakovian was spit, and Nerea did her best to apologize in an accentuated Drakovian “My apologies, I did not see you at all! Please, let me help you—,” She froze in place when she caught sight of the brown skin, dark eyes and glasses “Y-Your Royal Highness! Do forgive me—,”

A thread of apologies began between them both “It’s alright,” he answered in perfect English “I was quite absorbed myself. I did not hurt you, did I?”

“I could ask you that myself! Good heavens, your jacket is ruined! Here, let me…” He put his hand on hers and smiled reassuringly.

“I wanted to get rid of it eventually. I should’ve seen you—,”

As she collected her last book, when she saw the face of the poor man she trampled, recognition and shame came upon her “Oh my, I’m so sorry, Prince Vasili, I should’ve known—,”

He chuckled “Do not fret, I should’ve seen where I was going as well. I suppose we were both distracted.”

She shook her head “No, I should’ve seen where I was going, and now my latte is all over your surely expensive coat!”

He helped her up “Nothing a good rub won’t fix. Please, allow me to walk you to class and buy you a new latte. My treat.” He smiled, and my, what a beautiful smile that was.

“I can’t ask you that—,”

“I’m offering. Besides, I’m afraid my espresso is all over your beautiful dress too. My lady mother would be mortified if I maimed such a beauty. You are…? A beauty like yourself must have a name.” He extended his hand.

“Nerea. Nerea Rose.”

His grip was firm, yet gentle and warm, welcoming even. His eyes swept her before they too widened in recognition “Ah, I’ve heard about you! The American genius who has been travelling throughout Europe’s best universities. Your thesis on the advantages and abuses of AI was formidable. Truly a work of art. My siblings got tired of my gushing about your nuances and the way you expressed it. Not even professionals ten years ahead of you could’ve explained it as well and as richly as you.”

She blushed deeply and bit her lip “I’m glad someone appreciated it. I’m afraid my father didn’t understand much ‘technological mumbo jumbo’ and my sister couldn’t even finish it because the language was too complex.”

He smiled “Shame. It’s a true work of art. Do tell me, what brings you to Drakovia?”

“Well, since I’ve dipped my toes in technology and martial arts, I was thinking of getting a masters on Classical Languages: Latin, Greek, Ancient Egyptian, the works.”

Vasili looked at her, delighted “I am a humanist myself. Not many scientific minds appreciate the arts and humanities. Science may give us answers and make us advance as humanity, but it is art that nurtures the soul.”

Nerea smiled fondly “That’s what my mother used to say.”

Vasili frowned “’Used’?”

Nerea fidgeted with her fingers “She disappeared. Police assumed since she was a Romani—despite her ID clearly stating she was Andalusian—she just escaped with a lover, which she would never do.”

Vasili made a face “To hear the injustice in America is one thing, but that is too far.”

“Not to mention blatantly racist. But it was long before I could even have a conscience, so there isn’t much to do save do her proud, wherever she is.”

“You already have.”

She looked at Vasili, touched by his words, but before she could say something, the professor called “Ah, Miss Rose! Do come in, we have been waiting for you.”

“Your Highness—,”

“Please, just Vasili.”

“Very well, ‘just’ Vasili. I’ll see you around.”

During the small recess, as she walked around the campus, enjoying the small sandwich she made and the unusual sunny weather in the cold Drakkos, she spotted a little boy with gorgeous green eyes towards her. She smiled at him “Hello, sweetie! Are you lost?”

She noticed he held a bonbon, and made a gesture to give it to her. She chuckled “That’s sweet, darling, but I can’t. It’s yours.”

The boy insisted, his eyes making that face that made her melt. She sighed, defeated “All right, all right. I’ll take it. May I give you a thank you huggie?”

Wordlessly, he hugged her and she smiled, and a minute later, he took off to his bewildered mother. She gave her a smile. Just because this wasn’t the first time that a child smiled at her or even went as far to go to her didn’t mean it was strange. A good strange, but strange nevertheless.

“Nerea!” Juliana called.

She turned around and strid to the countess, who seemed to hold court with a few of her classmates. Many of them observed her curiously “What was all of that about?”

Nerea shrugged “I don’t know. It’s not the first time, but it’s still… odd.”

While Vasili did not have many friends, the ones he did were genuine and quite interesting. It was nice, hanging out with people who were as smart or nearly smart as her, not feeling for once like she once set the room quiet with a scientific joke.

As she observed her new group, her eyes stopped on Juliana, and as she talked and interacted, something in her body woke. For a moment, she lost her breath and one voice in her head told her that something terrible would happen to her. Then, it was gone.

When she opened her eyes, Vasili had steadied her and looked at her concerned “Are you alright, Nerea?”

“I… It’s nothing. Silly stuff of mine.”

“It didn’t seem like nothing.” He insisted.

“I just… I got a gut feeling that said that something terrible would happen to Juli. Stupid, right?” She chuckled, brushing it off.

They all looked at one another, obviously creeped out. She excused herself, going to the bathroom. After taking a few deep breaths, she washed her face, and that’s when she observed that Juliana had followed her.

She turned around, and observed that the countess observed her closely “How often do you get these gut feelings, Nerea?”

“Not very often. Only when a tragedy is bound to strike.”

Instead of looking at her like a madwoman, she leaned close, intrigued “Such as?”

“Before my mother disappeared or my Uncle Jimmy died, I got the same gut feeling. I suppose I also know when someone’s trouble.”

She nodded “And you got a feeling that I may be in trouble?”

She shrugged, “I suppose. I know it sounds ominous, but it’s yet to fail me.”

She placed a hand on her shoulder “I will keep it in mind. Thank you, Nerea. You’re a good girl.” 

As they came back, they had begun a debate about what prompted the child’s behavior. “…That was amazing! Children are a great judge of character. Has it always happened?”

“Since I turned sixteen, yes. I suppose I’ve always had a wide maternal side and connected well with children. Many stared at me when I’m out, for some reason.”

Vasili added to her surprise “That is a scientific proof that you are beautiful. I’m afraid I’m not children’s favorite prince.” He shrugged, “Trystan and Bas are.”

One of their friends clapped the prince’s shoulder, remarking that he was the group’s favorite by default. Nerea shyly said “Just because children don’t tend to look at you doesn’t mean that you aren’t handsome. It’s… what, one fact among many? I’ve seen gorgeous people who were awful to children.”

Vasili looked at her with interest before smiling “You have a point. You’ll fit well amongst us, Nerea.”

Christmas finally came around the corner, and Nerea had packed everything when she decided to look outside the window… to find it all covered in snow, even some cars! She turned on the news as the weather guy kept talking about how it’d be snowing like this throughout most of the winter, making it impossible to get out of the country. Her phone ringed, and of course, her flight had cancelled due to said weather. Sighing, she sat down and put her head in her palms, letting out a grunt of frustration.

Just then, Vasili called her. He rarely called, preferring text over call. She picked up, intrigued “Hello?”

“Nerea! I suppose you’re on the plane back to New York?”

“Nope. My flight got cancelled due to the weather, and I have nothing but yoghurt and ramen on the fridge. Why do you ask?”

He cleared his throat “Well, I was on the way home when the snow trapped my car, and your house is just above it. Perhaps I could… crash in there? Until they clear out the road, that is.”

She flushed. For months now, she had developed a complicated crush with Vasili, and the idea made her flustered “O-Of course! I’ll open the door for you. It’s—,”

“Portal 26, second floor, door 3B. I remember, Nerea.”

She smiled “Good. See you then. Hope you like cheap ramen.”

She hung up, looking at herself in the mirror, fixing her hair and spraying the special ‘Amor Amor’ perfume by Cacharel and putting on some lip oil before going to the kitchen, pretending to be preparing dinner.

The door closed behind her, and a snow-covered Vasili stepped into her view, his glasses foggy and covered in specks of snow, as well as his coat and boots. She beamed for a minute before giving him her usual friendly smile “Please, take off your shoes and coat! The heater is right there,” she pointed “and the guest room is next by mine. It’s not a palace, but it’s comfy. Can you tell me if there’s warm bedsheets there?”

Vasili obeyed the host, leaving the damp shoes by the door and hanging the coat and craned his head to the small but cozy guest room. He called out “All clear! Thank you, Nerea. I didn’t know who else to call.”

“You’re my friend. I’m happy to help. Please, sit.”

It was then when she took off her eyes from his face and noticed the large bag. She raised her eyebrows “What is that?”

“Ah, well, Marguerite had asked for Thai takeout, but I suppose that is no longer an option…”

She smiled “I love Thai. Here, let me plate it.”

“May I help?”

“Sure! Cutlery is in there.”

They both plated the Thai food and went to her desk, which was a gateway to the kitchen, and chatted animatedly about what they had been looking forward these holidays. Soon, they exchanged holiday-themed childhood stories “…Poor Nina. Swallowing snow sounds unhygienic.”

Nerea laughed “Curiosity killed the cat indeed. Despite my warnings, she didn’t listen, and we had to hospitalize her. Ever since, she listened to me more often. Well, as often as an eleven-year-old could.

They chuckled “Your sister sounds like quite the character. You must miss her.”

A pang of sadness washed over her “Very much. I’m bummed I can’t see her now. It’s… my first Christmas outside the US.”

Compassion could be read all over Vasili’s face “I can’t imagine how hard that must be. Is there any way I may be able to make it amenable while I’m here?”

She shrugged “It’ll be weird, to not cook an entire feast for the family. We always spent time with my father, sister and the Ginovesis. I’d make my special dish of huevos rotos, followed by migas and my stellar homemade turrón. I do have the ingredients here, but not an audience.”

Vasili gave her an amused look “What am I, Nerea, chopped liver? I’d be happy to be your audience.”

She shook her head “I can’t ask you that.”

“You’re not. I’m offering.”

She smiled widely “All right. But you’re helping, mister! Number one rule of the Rose Christmas; you want to eat; you have to earn it!”

He teasingly made a military salute “Aye aye, Captain!”

For two hours, they cooked, an intimate synchrony between them that neither could explain as the food was made, a certain unaddressed intimacy between stolen glances, the occasional hand brush, and how each looked at the other’s body. Especially the lips.

At last, the food was made, and they dug in, and Vasili seemed to hold back a moan of delight when he tried the huevos rotos. “Mm. The richness of the egg, the meat and the softness of the egg yolk is simply divine, and the spices really give it a kick. You truly are a talent at everything you do.”

She blushed “Thank you. I was nervous that it wouldn’t be to your tastes…”

He chuckled “I may be a royal, but I am capable of appreciating the simple things in life. And this is too delicious to ignore because the ‘commoners’ eat it as well.”

Nerea smirked “It has been a while since we’ve considered royalty some sort of demigods.”

“Thankfully so.”

They clinked their glasses, Riojan wine sparkling red “To family.”

“And those close to your heart.”

Smiling wide, they drank and kept talking and exchanging tales “You’re telling me that Patryk dared Kaspar to put on the prime minister’s underwear and streak across the building in it? No offence, but gross.”

“Not as gross as mudpies. That poor guy.”

“Hey! In my defense, he cheated on me!”

Vasili looked at her intensely “A crime indeed. Such a shame that beauties like yourself don’t get appreciated. If you were mine—,” His eyes shoot wide, and he cleared his throat “Apologies. It seems like the wine made me overstep.”

Nerea must’ve been affected by the wine, for she surprised herself when she blurted out “If I were yours, what would you do?”

He took her hands in his, an intense look on his face making her gasp “I’d worship you day and night. I’d give you the world. Every other woman would cease to exist.”

“Vasili, that is—,”

The strong wind slamming open the window interrupted the moment. Bolting up, the both rushed towards the window, where both forced it closed and panted, the effort being visible, as well as the tension of the moment.

“Whew! I need another glass after that.”

“I’ve had enough alcohol. I could use the turrón, though.”

She let out a breath “Coming right up.”

The morning after, Nerea had overslept due to the many glasses she ended up drinking. She remembers Vasili taking her to her bed, taking off her make-up and pulling the covers so she wouldn’t be cold.

She woke up and, remembering she had a guest, quickly brushed her hair with her fingers and checked her breath. Smelled like wine, of course. Taking a mentos from her drawer, she looked for something cute yet discreet. Ignoring her headache, she lifted her head and tried to have a pleasant smile on her face.

Coming out of her bedroom, the sight before her gave her heart flutters: Vasili had his shirt half-open, his hair was messy, and he was making breakfast. It smelled delicious. He seemed to notice her presence and smiled widely “Nerea! Please, do sit. I’ve made the liberty to make, ah… what do you call it? Pankays?”

Nerea chuckled “Pancakes, and it smells divine.”

He gave her a wry smile “I’ve decided to give it a Drakovian twist. It’s not as good as yours, but I believe it is how it’s done.”

He gave her the plate, and their hands brushed again. He cleared his throat “Look, about last night, I didn’t want to overstep, but… I like you, Nerea. Very much. You draw my eye like no other, and of course, you don’t have to return my feelings, but—,”

“I do return them,” she interrupted.

His gaze lifted, what it seemed like hope “Truly?”

Armoring herself with valor, she struts towards him and gave him a small peck. For a moment, he was surprised, and next thing she knew, he was kissing her passionately, a throaty moan escaping him. Next, her hands were on his hair and shirt, completely forgetting about breakfast. She chuckled “I probably reek of alcohol.”

“I rather like the taste of cherries and wine. A very sophisticated mix,”

He lifted her up with surprising strength, and she chuckled as he kissed her neck, gently dropping her to her bed. He looked at her like he was a hungry man and she was his last meal on earth. Taking off his shirt, he climbed towards her and whispered “Do you want this?”

She nodded frantically “Yes,” her voice was hoarse with desire.

He smiled devilishly “It is a good thing we haven’t eaten yet. What am I about to do is not fit for a full stomach.”

Their lips locked again, and as the sun came up, only them and their rampant tension seemed to exist for a few hours.

As in that day, Nerea didn’t feel so alone in Drakovia.

[sasster]

Made It Out Alive

So there I was, on the train ride home from class, and I thought.. Man. I’m gonna write something really indulgent. Hope you guys like it as much as I do! [Doc] —

Turning from the stove to the counter, with a knife and cutting board in hand, Lopard comes face to face with a jade blooded nuisance who smiles back at him from his seated position upon it.

The orange blood rolls his eyes.

“Get your ass off of my counter if you want to keep it.” He warns, waving the knife in the air for emphasis.

“Two problems with that, chief,” the nuisance starts, despite jumping off the counter with an ‘oof’ when his feet hit the ground. “S’not your counter and that’s a stupid threat.”

Once again Lopard rolls his eyes, but happy that there would no longer be an ass where he plans to chop vegetables, he carries on his prepwork.

“I’m sure Areios doesn’t want your ass on his counter either. Make yourself useful and—”

Before the command even leaves his mouth, Demuye is already behind him setting some pots to boil and pulling seasonings from cabinets.

“Yeah, yeah, on it boss man.” He says with a smile he doesn’t bother fighting.

Just as the pair are getting into the groove of cooking together, the owner of the hive paces his way into the kitchen with large, frantic steps that would shake the foundation of a less secure building, worrying the front of his shirt between two very anxious hands. Lopard barely gets to open his mouth before his much smaller “babysitter” comes toddling in behind him, on legs much too short to keep up with the exaggerated gait of the behemoth.

Thuein pauses to catch his breath, resting both hands on his thighs as he heaves.

“Running a marathon?” Demuye questions with ill-contained humor, only to receive a sharp look from the therapist in response.

Areios paces his way to the far end of the kitchen and stares at the undecorated stone for several seconds as silence overtakes the kitchen. His three guests exchange worried glances with each other.

Slowly, unable to be serious for too long, Demuye raises a hand and presses his index finger to the tip of his nose.

Thuein copies the motion.

For the third time in such a short stretch, Lopard finds himself rolling his eyes.

“Alright big guy,” He says as he wipes his hands clean on a dish towel. “What’s eating at you so bad that our best and brightest can’t help you keep it together?”

Truthfully, his annoyance with Demuye and Thuein doesn’t last long. It is barely a fizzle before it dies out on its own, really. As the oldest of this portion of their inner circle, he’d been used to wrangling everyone in for some time now. A part of him thrives on it, if he had to be honest with himself.

Areios lets his shoulders slump forward, too prideful maybe to face his friends as he speaks. “Do you think he’s actually going to come?” He finally asks, after his own silence becomes too much for even him to stand.

Once again the three exchange looks that the behemoth can’t see. Demuye seems annoyed at the notion, indicated by him sucking his teeth, Thuein only frowns, and Lopard lets out a resigned sigh.

“I don’t think he’d lie about something like that.”

Areios inhales sharply and exhales in a way that suggests he wishes, right now at least, that he was smaller than he is.

“What if he gets here and realizes he hates me as much as--”

“Ah,” Lopard interjects, holding up a hand that the other party cannot see but heeds regardless. “I’m not entertaining that sort of talk. He’s going to come and we’re going to have a great time. Just like we always do.”

The orange blood crosses the kitchen and pats Areios on the back.

“I’d beat his ass otherwise.” He offers and gets a laugh out of the purple blood.

“Imagine the emotional toll that’d take on you.”

“Smashing those guys is like second nature to me. Now get out before I put the pair of you to work.”

Demuye emphasizes Lopard’s point by slamming a pot onto the counter and Areios laughs again, putting up both hands, as he and Thuein leave the way they came.

Thuein mouths a ‘thank you’ to Lopard on the way out.

“We really don’t pay you enough.” Bemoans a more than humored Demuye, shaking his head, while Lopard returns to his post.

“Yeah, I’ll have to garnish it from somewhere.”

“If you touch my check, and I mean this so seriously, I’ll skin you.”

—

Later the hive is alive with chatter, the way it used to be when Areios housed most or all of the current guests in their respective times of need. The intoxicating bouquet of Lopard’s cooking carries from the kitchen to the large front room that most of the trolls occupied.

His chest swells with pride each time someone so much as compliments the smell of the goods. It is nice knowing that his hard work is appreciated, after all. Soon the smell will be overshadowed by someone else's, probably Achina’s, baking skills. But for now, the pride was all his.

Lopard plops, exhausted, on a couch between the host and a violet blooded sailor who the pair have not seen in countless sweeps, waving a three fingers hand around as he exposits what’d happened to him in those sweeps.

“It hasn’t been all that crazy,” Velrum concludes, shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant manner that suggests he was merely describing a shopping trip and not a literal odyssey. “I was on the sea. That’s where I came from, so it wasn’t awful.” He lets his good fin flair for emphasis.

Lanaen, seated in a chair across from them, scoffs.

“Were your more stuck-up personality traits concussed out of you, then?”

“Quite possibly. And yours?”

“Oh, no. He’s still very much a dick.” Lopard chimes in before Lanaen can defend himself, and the four of them enjoy a good laugh at the fuchsia’s expense.

It has always been too long since the last time they gathered everyone together like this and the hive itself is practically a flutter with it’s own life.

Lopard chances a glance to a corner of the living room occupied by Zurven, of all people, signing away in a conversation with Isnons who appears to have turned off his hearing aid for the evening.

Each of the pair jumped at the chance when they heard that the other would definitely be in attendance, masterful trickery executed by Thuein and Achina, who were convinced neither would come otherwise.

From what he can make out from his bout of eavesdropping Isnons just wrote his first book and Zurven’s gotta get his hands on it.

He smiles to himself, satisfied that he would not have to field any angry partners  for a botched night out. He hardly notices when Velrum and Lanaen leave the room, absorbed in yet another conversation.

This one possibly about the former’s missing fingers.

“See, we’re having fun.” Lopard nudges a shoulder up against Areios as he speaks. “Regardless.”

“Yeah. It’s always nice having everyone back together. Makes the hive feel less lonely.”

“I think that’s called empty nest syndrome.”

“Look at me, your sad mama bird.”

Lopard only laughs and nudges him again.

Very suddenly, Holoth appears in their space, beaming despite the way sleepiness decorates her features.

“Does that mean I can call you mommy?” She inquires, brightly.

“Please don’t.”

“C’mon guys, I brought something you need to see.” She quickly pivots, seizing Areios by the arm and giving him a tug that actually pulls him to his feet.

Nonplussed, he follows her lead with Lopard bringing up the rear.

Holoth leads the two of them outside, away from the excitement of the hive and closer to the cliff that overlooks the sea. It does not take long for Lopard to recognize the form of a troll pacing back and forth at the end of it, but he is certain that Areios cannot make it out, what with his deteriorating eyesight and all.

He turns his surprise on Holoth who only winks back at him. Then she trudges forward with the giant in tow until he and the pacing figure stop short, staring at each other.

Briefly, Lopard thinks that it was very wise of her to not bring him inside for this reunion. He would never tell her the thought, lest everyone have to reckon with her ego for the foreseeable future.

She gives Areios a shove and he continues the rest of the way on his own, where he and the newcomer continue to stare at each other in stunned silence.

What must be running through their heads right now?

“Areios, I’m so sorry I--”

The full apology dies in the doctor’s throat when  Areios, unable to contain himself, wraps him up in his arms and crushes him into his chest.

“I missed you so much, Aelium.”

[puck-luck]

I’m not hating on YOU. Just on how slow and rude the characters are being made out to be. Honey should stop being so rude to Trevor, give him some credit for putting up with her attitude. Bea is genuinely for the streets. Again not hating on YOU because I like your writing style plus reading your other works i really like. I get I don’t have to read it if I don’t like it but I’ve waited and gave it time for stuff to start picking up.

I appreciate that you're not hating on me because you enjoy my writing style. That's always nice to hear. I'm glad you've read my stuff and even tried to stick it out for STG.

I want to reply to your concerns, so I typed up a couple of bullet points in my notes app. In a very in-character moment for me, it became lengthy. I'm hiding it under this Read More so that no one has to see it if they don't want to. Tbh, that includes you— and I don't mean that in a mean way, even if it might come off like that. It's hard to convey feeling through words on a page, which brings me to my first point:

1. A lot of Honey's attitude is written as means for banter, since Trevor knows that she doesn't mean it in such a negative way— he's aware that she's deflecting. Maybe I need to make that clearer and now I know, which means I can try and work on that! Thank you for bringing it to my attention.

2. Honey has trauma, which I've started to explain in the story. It's going to be fleshed out more and she WILL work through it, but the girl has some pretty complex PTSD when it comes to relationships. That's the reason why she's so hot and cold with Trevor. She knows what she's feeling, but she's not ready to accept it yet.

3. In Chapter 5, the most recent chapter, Honey admits to Trevor that she's the difficult one. She's well aware that she's having trouble with this new relationship and that manifests in her attitude towards Trevor. He says he doesn't mind (basically) and she just hums BECAUSE it bothers her that she's being hard to deal with, and yet she can't stop herself. Again— it's her complex PTSD.

HERE is a screenshot of my Google doc so you can read the scene itself:

4. Fair. Bea is for the streets. Yet, at the same time, I don't see the real issue behind this: everyone involved is a consenting adult that is fully aware of the situation. Everyone knows that Bea is hooking up with the guys in the house. If the guys didn't want to hook up with her, they wouldn't— like how Luke turns her down in this most recent chapter. She's also a girl in her 20s... I know a lot of girls in college that made goals to sleep with entire exec boards of frats or collect each frat president or, in an extreme case, a girl that wanted to hook up with every brother in our pledge class, the pledge class above us, and the pledge class below us. If the girl wants to be a slut, then she can be a slut. & that's how I'm writing her. More power to her. Things might even change for Bea over time, like how real relationships go...

5. As for the slowness: I know that my chapters have gotten super long. I keep getting carried away and writing more than I mean to. It's because I like this project and the characters I've created. BUT, each section is a day. Each chapter is a week. Honey and Trevor have known each other for just over a month and I PERSONALLY am not the kind to hook up with a guy I've just met. Yes, at times it seems long and I know that it drags at times because I can feel it dragging while I write— but I am trying to make this as realistic and detailed as possible. Between the whipped cream scene and the blowjob scene, 10 days passed. That's SUCH a short amount of time, especially since the pair didn't see each other as much that week. Honey works, Trevor trains, and a lot of that is off screen because I think it's boring to write when this is a ROMANCE.

6. If I had an editor, they could probably help me cut this shit down and make it drag less. I DON'T have an editor though and this is a very detailed rough draft of a story that would probably change a LOT before publishing IF I WERE TO GET IT PUBLISHED.

7. I apologize that you have waited and hoped for quicker advancement in Honey and Trevor's story. To me, it's not a fast story. It's going to pick up... on my outline I have Trevor and Honey hooking up 3 times next week. You're welcome to hang in there for that if you want to. It's up to you.

And finally... I apologize that my explanation was so long. And probably slow. I just want to be thorough with your concerns. If you choose not to read anymore of STG, then good for you. I'll still be churning out oneshots when I can and I hope you like those more.

I really do appreciate the feedback. I hope this response didn't seem rude because I'm not trying to be. It's also 2:30am for me so I really should go to bed before I ACTUALLY get my feelings hurt or start lashing out... which I've been known to do when tired. So. Goodnight Anon. Thanks for not hating on ME and I hope my explanations were good enough for you.

[squarebracket-trickster]

Author Ask Tag Game

A huge SORRY and thank you to @mjparkerwriting for tagging me in this waaaaay back in August (what the heck - how did this happen haha).

What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?

That sometimes being a strong, independent woman isn't enough. Sometimes we can't succeed alone or even with the help of loyal friends. Sometimes it really does take structural, systemic change and that change doesn't happen in a single life time.

As for why I chose this theme... I didn't really. I started with a premise (princess runs away from arranged marriage and accidentally falls in love with guy she was betrothed to). When I turned that premise into a plot with stakes I decided to have something that pressured the protagonist to go back to her marriage. The thing I chose was needing to prevent a war. The theme just kind of emerged from the tension between her saving her people and not being trapped in a marriage she didn't want.

2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)?

Southern England (loosely) in 1333 AD and some other cultures that would have been in contact with, bordering, or having diaspora in England (Wales, France, Breton, Al Andalusia, Persia, Byzantine Empire, Jewish diaspora, and like one thing from Scotland).

Other inspirations include a few Shakespeare comedies, how Tolkien uses English speech patterns to indicate social class, the Robin Hood myth, and Tennyson's poem "The Splendour Falls".

4. How many chapters is your story going to have?

Draft 2 had 15 chapters averaging between 3000-5000 words. I've already broken up one of those chapters in draft 3 and will probably break up more. So, at least 16? But I might split them all in half if I decide they are too many pages when I finally change the page size of my manuscript from standard word doc to book-sized. So maybe around 30?

6. When and why did you start writing?

The immersive daydreamer who loves to read to fandom to CinemaSins to film and tv show critique YouTube to writing advice YouTube to I'm gonna write my daydreams down so I can reread them for fun to I want to try my hand at a properly structured novel (but it's just for me) to dammit, I've put so much work in I want to polish this and publish it one day Pipeline is very, very real.

7. Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers on Tumblr do you follow?

You can edit a bad draft. It is so much easier to fix something than to make something from scratch. Your first draft is not an adequate reflection of your abilities as a writer - neither is your second, neither is your third. Asking for help is a skill, rewriting is a skill, workshopping is a skill, googling writing advice is a skill, taking a break is a skill. Your novel isn't your best work until it's done - feedback, and breaks, and months of writer's block and all. Push through. You're not a bad writer, or a good one for that matter, until there is a finished product to judge. I know looking at an unfinished draft riddled with problems can be demoralizing but you will find those problems and you will fix them. Just be patient.

I'm gonna steal MJ's idea and tag seven of my "other writers" - seven because that's how many questions are on in tag game.

@zeenimf, @ambiguouspuzuma, @macabremoons, @lexiklecksi, @sleepyowlwrites (though you've probably been tagged 1000 times in this haha), @stesierra, @ettawritesnstudies

[musicalmoritz]

On average how long does it take you to write a fic? I see you post pretty often on ao3 so I was just wondering if you had any tips to write faster? you make it seem so effortless lol/pos

I must confess, I’ve been procrastinating on finishing a fic for a few weeks now…nonetheless I do have some tips!

So the brutal truth here is that when I really want to get something written I don’t sleep LMAO. Usually I’ll stay up until 4:00 AM writing, but I haven’t been able to do that lately because I’ve been trying to prioritize a healthy sleep schedule. It’s better to start writing early so you don’t stay up half the night, that can actually make things more difficult as after a certain hour your brain will just shut off (at least that’s what happens for me)

The length it takes me to write a fic depends on the type of fic, if it’s 3-4K I can usually knock it out in a day or two, unless I’ve been putting it off. If it’s 9-12k it takes me a couple of days, though I have written fics that length in one sitting before. Again, I do crazy work between the hours of 8:00 PM and 4:00 AM. If it’s anything near 20k it usually takes me a few months, especially if I have a lot going on irl at the time. My longest fic was 52k and I pretty much wrote that through the winter. Right now I’m working on one that’s meant to end at around 15k and I already have 12k of it written, but I ramble so it might come out a bit longer

Okay now onto actual productive tips. In my experience, the best way to write a lot is literally just to spill all your thoughts onto the page. Yap like your life depends on it. If I’m writing the character experiencing something I have a lot of opinions on, I’ll spend several paragraphs just talking about that. Some of my best and longest fics come from me straight up venting into a Google Doc. It’s like a diary except no one can tell how much is the character’s pov and how much is me working out my own problems. If you think you ranted too much, you can always go back and delete some later

It’s also good to try and always be writing. One of my Mitsukou fics was written almost entirely between breaks at work. I bring my computer with me if I’m going somewhere over night. I’ll write while I’m waiting for a class to start, and in between classes- especially if I have a long break. I write a paragraph or two on the toilet sometimes. And also be thinking about the characters a lot, I’m hyperfixated on tbhk rn so these little losers are always on my mind; so when I sit down to write, I’ve already written most of the fic in my head. Share your own headcanons and analysis, people love reading that stuff. Don’t be afraid to get creative and take a few liberties, most readers are subconsciously longing for new things in their fics

Also don’t stress yourself out too much about what you post! Fanfic is best when it’s written for your own enjoyment above anyone else’s. Sometimes I get too caught up in what other people will think of my fics and forget I have total control over everything I write. If you worry too much about making your work “perfect,” you’ll never want to write. Make yourself your main target audience, it makes the process way more fun

I hope some of this helped you!! Thank you for your ask, this gave me the motivation to work on my wip. I’m also currently writing fics for every day of Aoinene Week so it’s been busy. A good fic playlist also helps, it helps you better envision the world you’re writing. Recently I’ve been basing my fics off specific music artists which gets me really invested. Happy writing :)