#I've learned a lot from truly going with the flow

[myflagmeansace]

you know what I appreciate about the ofmd fandom? there's space for people to be analytical and critical of the story AND there's space for people to just embrace the chaos of it all

[slaaverin]

JIMIN CAME HOME!!!!!!!

Hello ARMY, this is Jimin. I enlisted in December two years ago, and now, two years have already passed. I've been serving in the military for about a year and two months now, and honestly… time seems to flow differently here. It’s not always easy, but because there are things I’m learning and experiencing, I’m looking forward to the days when I can talk with you all and share fun stories about everything that’s happened. Hmm… my daily life hasn’t changed much. Since it’s the military, I go through training, work, exercise, and before I know it, the day is over, and it's time to sleep. I’m living through a routine that repeats itself every day. But one thing that has changed since the new year is the conversations Jungkook and I have before going to bed. Since the days until we meet ARMY again are getting closer, we've been talking a lot about what we need to prepare before that moment arrives, what kind of image we want to show, and what kind of lives we will live moving forward. To be honest, there is also a bit of fear. It’s been quite a long time since we last performed together, and it’s been a while since we fully dedicated our time to the stage and music. So yes, there is a little fear, but one thing that hasn’t changed is our determination to give you the best performance when we return. We’ll prepare diligently—really. We’ll work hard and come back in our best form. To our ARMY, whom I miss and am endlessly grateful for, Until the day we meet again, please stay healthy and may every day be filled with happiness. Wishing you lots of luck in the new year, ARMY. I love you. Truly.

GUYS THE WAY I SCREAMED I AM NOT OK I'M ACTUALLY TREMBLING

Ok so when Jimin comes home, it might not be often, but when he does, it's HUGE!

This letter is honestly a lot and I'm not going to be very coherent.

So basically he's going through the day, doing what he must do, like a routine (as expected) but my takeaway is that the one constant is Jimin & Jungkook talking when the day ends.

Oh, boy.

So you're telling me our boys are having deep conversations at night about their future now 😭 omg what do I do with that information.

I don't know about you but Jimin articulated his letter so well I instantly felt the irrevocable WEIGHT of his statements.

Like, what they talk about is serious, it's deliberate, it will probably change how they handle things when they come out. We're talking big life questions, expectations, dreams & desires, public image.

Like how do we go from here? After everything. Who do we want to be? As individuals, & as a couple?

I know I shouldn't be shocked, it was bound to happen, but even then I'm still 😭 not ok he's saying it this plainly.

"What kind of life we want to live moving forward"

This phrase shook me to my fucking core. I let out an inhumane scream. What kind of life? WHAT KIND OF LIFE?

Fucking hell. It's exhilirating and scary just thinking about it.

Anticipation grows through the roof.

He said he's going to tell us things when he comes out so I'm glad.

Because I only need to know, to see, with their words, and their bodies, what is their state of mind. I'm so fucking curious to know what they are thinking about. I'm dying inside, I don't want to wait. This is killing me.

I think I'm waiting for the tiniest sign that they are ok, that they will be, that they feel good, that we don't need to worry. I DON'T KNOW??? The unknown is so very scary and unpredictable. Not knowing is what's worse.

But they are together and they talk together of their future, a future that I'm sure will also include the other in some type or form.

I'm now more than ever positive on a jikook subunit next. Might be small, but I'm sure they thought of something.

& They thought of AYS, too. I know it.

Maybe also about how they will move in together? One can only hope.

This letter fills me with joy.

Jimin is such a wonderful person & his words always hit right.

Having fear is a normal thing. The future is always worst in our head than in reality, and projecting things too much onto it can only create anxiety. But I'm not worried - about that. They will manage to give us amazing performances I have no doubt. I just hope they don't put too many expectations on themselves, because they don't need to. I trust them to do their best and it's already enough.

What kind of image will they be showing moving forward? They were ready to already risk it all before with AYS. How things will change?

What kind of person will they show?

This is all so very exciting guys 😭

So many possibilities.

When they come out I will be clinging to my seat holding my breath with my fingers crossed 😭

Ahhh, we need to be patient. This is hard.

I'm so glad Jimin seems to be well. That they are both well.

I need to let everything sink in. And reflect on it.

I think soon a lot will be happening, and I want to be here for ALL of it. I'll continue to write silly posts about it.

But I'm positive, the future will be bright, and I think everything will be ok.

They are writing it as we speak, and I believe it is meant to be, as always, together.

Wishing them good luck 💜

[changbeansss]

Sketches of love

Pairing: Artist!Hyunjin x reader

Genre : strangers to lovers, fluff

Warnings: None

You'd always been skeptical about meeting new people, especially those who seemed to have a mysterious aura around them. Moving to a new city for your job, you were excited but also wary of the unknown. Your life had a comfortable routine, and you weren't looking to disrupt it. That is, until you met Hyunjin.

Your first encounter with Hyunjin was at a quaint little café near your apartment. It was your favorite spot, a quiet refuge from the bustling city. You were sipping your coffee and reading a book when someone sat down at the table next to yours. Glancing up, you saw a tall, handsome man with striking features and an air of quiet confidence. He caught your eye and smiled, a small, polite smile that you returned before quickly looking away.

Over the next few weeks, you noticed him more frequently at the café. Sometimes he was alone, sometimes he was with friends. He always had a sketchbook with him, and you often saw him lost in thought, pencil moving gracefully across the paper. You were curious but hesitant to approach him. However, fate had other plans.

One rainy afternoon, you were caught in a sudden downpour on your way to the café. Drenched and frustrated, you entered the warm, inviting space, only to find it unusually crowded. The only available seat was at Hyunjin's table. He looked up as you approached, and without hesitation, he offered you the seat with a warm smile.

"Looks like we're both here to escape the rain," he said, his voice smooth and pleasant.

You nodded, grateful for his kindness. "Thank you. It’s really coming down out there."

As you settled in, an easy conversation began to flow between you two. You learned that Hyunjin was an artist, passionate about capturing the beauty of the world in his sketches. He spoke about his work with such enthusiasm that you couldn't help but be drawn in. The more you talked, the more you realized how much you enjoyed his company.

Days turned into weeks, and your casual café meetings became a regular occurrence. Hyunjin started to share more about himself, his dreams, and his inspirations. He listened intently whenever you talked about your own life, offering insights and encouragement that made you feel truly understood. You found yourself looking forward to seeing him, your heart fluttering with anticipation every time you walked into the café.

One evening, as the sun set and cast a golden glow over the city, Hyunjin asked if you wanted to take a walk with him. You agreed, and together you wandered through the streets, talking about everything and nothing. He took you to a nearby park, where you both sat on a bench, watching the world go by.

"There's something I've been wanting to show you," he said, reaching into his bag and pulling out his sketchbook. He flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. It was a sketch of you, sitting at the café, lost in your book. The details were so precise, capturing not just your likeness but also the serene expression you often wore.

You were stunned. "Hyunjin, this is beautiful. I can't believe you drew me."

He smiled, a hint of shyness in his eyes. "I wanted to capture the moment I first saw you. There's something about you that inspires me."

Your heart swelled with emotion. No one had ever made you feel so special, so seen. "Thank you, Hyunjin. This means a lot to me."

As the days passed, your bond with Hyunjin deepened. You spent more time together, exploring the city, sharing your dreams and fears. He became your confidant, your source of joy, and you found yourself falling for him more with each passing day. His kindness, his talent, and his unwavering support made you realize how much he meant to you.

One evening, as you sat together on a rooftop, watching the stars, Hyunjin turned to you, his eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and determination. "There's something I need to tell you," he said softly.

You felt your heart race. "What is it?"

"I've fallen in love with you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've felt this way for a while now, and I can't keep it to myself any longer."

Tears filled your eyes as you reached out to touch his hand. "Hyunjin, I love you too," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "I've been falling for you since the day we met."

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you both let the weight of your feelings wash over you. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the night sky, you knew that you had found something truly special. With Hyunjin by your side, you felt ready to embrace whatever the future held, knowing that your love would guide you through it all.

[eyesofshan-if]

what are your favourite IFs and ROs?

oooh... juicy 🧃to be honest, i haven't had much time to read other ifs, so i don't know that many of them! but here are the few that i'm actively follow and obsess over (and look up to as literary masters because gosh)

infamous by /infamous-if. literally everyone and their mother knows this if and what can i say 🥲 i'm one of the many sheeple too. i'm so obsessed?? with the way amy writes messy relationships and people because i could never make them feel natural. like i try and it just reads like two toddlers squabbling in a parking lot. somehow she manages to make writing a fictional song in a fictional music competition fun. the ros feel like living breathing people. it's amazing to read and to learn from. but yeah august, seven and orion all have a vice grip on my heart

/merrycrisis-if and /collegetennisoriginstory!! i'm head over heels for three out of the four ros in the tennis game. allie's diction is so good and flows so well it intimidates me. like where is this vocabulary coming from. the words are so light?? and there's an upbeat feel to each sentence and the pace feels like skipping home after a long day ends. how is there humour that is actually funny in every sentence. why am i already in love with the ros even though i've only spent one scene with them. truly the slice of life god. she's making me want to go to university but i am already!! in university!! and disclaimer its nowhere near as fun 🥲!!!! i use her work as a writing study for my own 😭 g, rayyan and SAMMMMMM!!!!! gods i want to hold them in my hands and go 💋💋💋💋💋

other ifs i follow are ATOC (it got me into the if community and xelef? mwah mwah), golden rose, fallen hero (ortega my love), the exile and when twilight strikes. but it's been a while since i've read them so my memory might be a little rusty. still, they're all wonderful books and i check up on them from time to time :))

if you have any recommendations though, i'm all for suggestions!!

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The dad who stepped up; John Wick x oc teen

*Author's note*

Okay so this is the first update in what feels like forever. Now that I'm on winter break and away from home I can start to feel the creative juices flowing. I might also post up some other stuff that I've had saved but didn't feel confident in posting before as some christmas gifts for you all.

But this oneshot (possibly might turn this into a series but only AFTER I've seen all the John Wick films. I've seen bits and pieces on youtube but never all the way through *dodges flying objects*) So just to put in prespective this is a prologue before the first film. Like the five years John has once he retires. But I wanna see how all of you like this and if anyone wants to see this turned into a series, give me a shoutout below and comment whether you wish to be tagged or not.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, parental abandonment, cancer mentioned.

Taglist:

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

@waddles03

@plethora-of-things

@psychosupernatural

@remussl0vers

@queensdivas

_______________________________________________________

If you think being a teenage girl is bad enough, try being the teenage daughter of the infamous Baba Yaga.  Well not blood related but I’ve known John Wick for most of my pre-teen/teenage life.  He was a wild card I never expected coming into mine or my mother’s life, hell men like him only exist in my mom’s Fabio romance novels. 

Even though I would later in life learn of who he truly was, I still can’t help but think back to the days when he first came into our lives.

Age 11

It all started when I had came back from my first summer at Camp Walden.  I had learned about this camp from my best friend and I pleaded with my mom for me to go.  At first she acted like she wasn’t even going to allow me to go but then on the last day of school, she had surprised me with an application of approval and a plane ticket for me to go to Camp Walden.

I spent eight weeks at the all-girls camp learning how to fence, canoe, all the typical fun camp stuff.  Made some new friends and would write letters to my mom every single night (as per her conditions since there wasn’t any cell service up there).

I got off the plane with all my bags and looked around the gate until I caught sight of my mom.  She held out a welcome home sign and when she found me from the load of passengers, she and I raced up to each other and hugged each other tightly.  She picked me up rocking me back and forth kissing me repeatedly.

“Oh I hope you had a lousy time at that camp because I am never sending you there again, I missed you too much!”

“I missed you too mom.”

“Wait did you…..you got your haircut?” when I had went I had pretty long hair and now I come back from camp with my hair up to my shoulders.

“Yeah when we were playing truth or dare, a girl was dared to cut someone’s hair and since I had the longest I was the victim. Luckily for me her mom’s a stylist and she learned from her. Are you mad?”

“I would be but she did something I’ve never been able to make you do since you were little.” We both laughed as she held me close to her again and we began to leave the airport.

“So mom how’s your summer been?”

“Oh the typical single mom empty nester. Watching trash tv and drinking mimosas.” I shook my head at her.  “But I wanna hear more about camp. Eight weeks of not hearing your voice is way too long for me.”

“Yeah it was a lot for me too mom. But it was a lot of fun. I got some pics of some foxes that came by the camp.”

“Ohhh exciting. I know you’ll be adding those to your collection my little fox kit.”

“Yeah. And canoeing is much more difficult than they make it seem on TV. We got tipped over like five times and we didn’t even leave the docks.”

“Awww man, I’m sorry baby.” We threw my stuff into the trunk and I rode in the passenger seat while mom drove us out of the airport parking lot and we headed for home.  “Oh by the way your aunt Chessy just had to be here to see you come home so expect to be smothered by her.”

“Did she bring Sammy?” I asked excitedly.

“You know your aunt. Never leaves home without that dog of hers.” I clapped my hands excitedly.

“Also baby I have surprise to tell you once you get settled in.”

“A surprise? What is it?”

“It’s a surprise and like I said I want you to get settled in first before I tell you what it is. It’s tiring flying from coast to coast non-stop so I want you to take as much time as you need to get settled.” I let out a groan as I sat back in the seat.  When you’re a kid and you hear the word ‘surprise’ you never want to wait for it.  But grownups just love to do that to you.

Before long we finally arrived at the house and mom put the car in park in the driveway and turned the engine off.  I stepped out of the car and looked at my house in relief.  The door was left wide open and I immediately heard barking as Sammy, my aunt’s golden retriever raced out and came over to me.

“Sammy!” he came up and sat down allowing me to hug and kiss him.

“Oh now this fully grown woman can’t be my little Sarah can it!?” I heard aunt Chessy’s voice say as she came out.  I let go of Sammy and ran up to her and she too picked me up just like mom did at the airport.  Spinning me around and rocking me back and forth.  “Oh welcome home baby girl. We missed you soo much! Hey,” she separated our hug and took both my arms in her hands as she continued, “Don’t you dare convince your mom to send you that way again for far too long. You’re lucky I soil you too much otherwise I wouldn’t have extended my stay.”

“I love you too aunt Chessy. Camp was fun but there’s truly no place like home.”

“Amen to that sister. You’re just in time I made cornbread and chili your favorite.”

“Did I just hear cornbread and chili?” mom perked up as she carried my bags over her shoulder.

“Yeah it’s on the stove but Sarah gets the first bowl. And Helen don’t carry all that weight, that’s what I’m here for.” Aunt Chessy grabbed my bags while mom briefly gave her a glare but aunt Chessy gave her a look back.  “C’mon kid, let’s get you inside and well fed.” As we walked back inside with Sammy sticking to mom’s side whimpering and licking her hand, that’s when I began to notice the black mustang also parked in our driveway.

I sat down at my balcony bed while aunt Chessy began unpacking my bags.  I had my bowl of chili with the cornbread inside of it in my lap and I said.

“Hey aunt Chessy, how’d you afford a mustang from the rental car place?”

“Oh I wish I could afford one in real life. But that car doesn’t belong to me.”

“So what did mom get it or something?” I asked.  That’s when we heard my mom giggling.  I turned and looked outside and saw her with a man right out by the pool.  The man was sitting on one of the pool chairs and I could see he had pure black hair, wore sunglasses and a dark t-shirt.  “Who is he?”

“Sarah it’s none of my business how my big sister ruins her life she’s a big girl.” Aunt Chessy said as she began taking out all my dirty clothes.  I set my bowl of chili aside and went up to her and said as I wrapped my arms around her right one.

“C’mon aunt Chessy I need to know. Who is he?” aunt Chessy let out a deep sigh and turned to me.

“His name is John Wick. Your mom met him at the gas station when she accidentally forgot to grab her wallet to pay for gas. If you ask me I think he wanted something a bit more than just to be a good Samaritan.”

“What do you mean?” this time we could hear a splash by the pool and mom’s laughter before it turned to shrieks and then back to laughter again.  Aunt Chessy let out a groan as she rolled her eyes.  I went to grab my camera while Aunt Chessy continued on her rant.

“Look you know how I’ve felt about men especially after your father left you guys. So I gotta ask myself what does a man like that who belongs in a Fabio romance novel want with a woman who is trying to work out her life as a single mom? Then I realize there’s a million reasons why that man has stuck around, and all of it is just waiting to be spent from the New York bank.” As she talked I stood there with my camera to see both my mom and John in the pool together at first playing like little kids before being wrapped in each other’s arms.

“What you think he’s loaded or something?” I asked.

“Ehh what do I know? But I’ll tell you one thing, this man’s got your mother eating out of the palm of his hand. They do everything together, they go on drives in that car of his, they swim together, they go out to eat dinner every single night. But you know what, meet him. See for yourself, don’t let me influence you.”

 I saw them making goo-goo eyes at each other before kissing each other as they remained in the pool.  I snapped a quick picture of them and felt an odd feeling in my stomach as I looked down at them.  Could he be the surprise that mom was talking about?

After I had my lunch and aunt Chessy was now doing my laundry, I got on my bathing suit and put on a Shadow the hedgehog t-shirt over it along with some old sandals.  I grabbed my sunglasses and decided to head out to the pool. 

There I saw John once again sitting on the pool chair with my mom just coming out of the pool and grabbing a towel.

“Ohh Sarah, didn’t expect you to come down so soon.”

“Figured I’d stretch my legs out in the pool. At least this time I won’t have algae or wet sand between my toes.” I said wiggling my toes as I kicked my sandals off my feet.

“Well since you’re here I guess there’s no time like the present ehh? Sarah, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.” She came up behind me and walked us closer to John.  “Sarah, this is John Wick.”

He removed his sunglasses and I finally got a better look at his face.  A sharp facial structure and a scruff beard that had some hidden grey to it.  Deep brown eyes that pierced through my very soul and almost sent a chill of fear up my spine.

“Hello.” His voice had a slight ruggedness to it but it also had warmth and friendliness to it.  Not like how when someone who has a rasp to their voice it makes them creepy.

“Hi, Mr. Wick.” I greeted shyly as I placed my sunglasses on top of my head.

“Well I can’t believe I’m finally meeting the famous Sarah. I’ve been looking forward to this all summer.” John said as he adjusted himself to sit up properly and get a better look at me.

“Really well here I am.” I said with a shrug.

“Helen, you’ve been holding out on me. The way your mom has talked about you I expected to meet a little girl but you are so grown up and just as beautiful as her.”

“I’ll be 12 soon. How old are you?”

“Sarah!” exclaimed my mom as tugged me by my shoulders.

“It’s fine Helen. There should actually be no shame in children asking adults their ages.” John assured my mom.  “To answer your question I’m 43.”

“That’s 32 years older than me! How old are you again mom.” I asked looking up at her.

“Wow if only you were this interested in math when it comes to your homework. Look I’m going to head inside and get some food. Maybe even check to make sure Chessy is doing the laundry correctly. I love my little sister but sometimes she can be a scatter brain when it comes to laundry. Be right back.” With that mom left me alone with her new ‘boyfriend’.

“My aunt said that you guys met at a gas station, is that true?”

“Yes that is true. I don’t know the full story but from what I did see, the cashier was giving your mother a pretty hard time so I thought I’d give her a hand and help pay for her gas. And not three days later at the Walmart nearby she actually helped me with finding the better laundry detergent. From there I guess you could say the rest is history.”

“How come my mom didn’t mention you in the letters she’d send me?” John let out a deep sigh and looked at me with a sympathetic look.

“I imagine this is pretty awkward, right?” I merely shrugged as I crossed my arms over my chest.  “Your mom felt that this type of news would’ve been better to be talked about in person. But I want you to know this Sarah, these past eight weeks I’ve really come to care for your mother. And I wish I can do the same for you, but if not I’ll understand and I’ll walk away.”

Now this is something I’ve never heard of happening in real life.  Normally the partner wouldn’t allow their lover’s child to dictate whether or not they’ll stay together.  But just from seeing mom and him together, that’s the happiest I’ve seen her since……him.

Needless to say (and as you all know) John Wick stuck around with my mother.  They waited to get married until a year into their blossoming relationship.  And it was also after their marriage that mom and I would leave our home of Nappa, California and go to live with John in his house in New York.

It was out in upstate New York so just roughly about a 20-30min drive away from the city.  It was fairly similar in size to our old house back home with wide open spaces, a good sized backyard, and a two door garage. 

Ever since they got married, mom’s always tried to have John and I do some ‘father-daughter’ bonding time.  And even though John did his best to understand my interests whether it came to gaming, music, or movie trivia, there was just something about being alone with him that didn’t sit right with me.  I already got fooled once by my dad once, I wasn’t going to let another one do the same thing to me again.

Age 13

I was sitting in the passenger seat of John’s mustang as we drove into the city to pick up some groceries.  Mom had to suddenly be called into work with an emergency and John said he didn’t want to leave me alone in the house by myself.

After a brief back and forth with each other of how whether or not I was capable of staying at the home by myself, I ended up losing that battle and had to tag along.  As we walked through the aisles picking out everything we needed, my eye soon caught a bunch of people at a table advertising something.

I noticed their posters for the Gotham Archery classes.  And there happened to be one right nearby in Manhattan.  I turned to John to see him looking at some deals on eggs then turned my attention back towards the table.  Archery did always fascinate me but there was never any schools or lessons back at California that were within driving range of us so I could only fantasize about shooting an actual bow and arrow like Legolas or Merida did.

“You want to go talk to them?” I jumped at John’s voice and looked up at him.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at them for the past five minutes without even blinking. So either you’ve got some beef with one of those gentleman or you’d like to go talk to them and think about joining them.”

“Yeah that’s funny. Me doing archery.” I scoffed as I brushed it off with a laugh.

“What’s so funny about that?” he leaned his arms over the shopping cart as he raised his brow at me.  One look at his eyes and I knew he wasn’t kidding around.

“You—you’re being serious?”

“If it’s something you’re interested in, you should go for it.” A strange fluttery feeling came into my chest when he said that.  Dad never really took the time to encourage me to go out for something, it was always mom who tried to push me to achieve what I want.  So hearing this from an adult male, especially someone like John Wick felt strange and new to me.

I took a deep breath and walked over to the table and it was there I began my journey into the world of archery.

After bringing John over to the table so that he could get some of the information too (since I was under 18 I needed to have an adult present for the information given and to ensure that there would be an adult present whenever I was taken to classes).

We had a meeting that night with my mom and she was so proud that I had managed to find something to do here in New York.  And already having John be the chosen supervised parent to go along with me also made her happy to know that we finally managed to find something to bond over.

After several months of lessons, I actually ended up doing a lot better at archery than I could imagine.  So much so that my instructor encouraged me to participate in the upcoming tournament that would be held at their school in Brooklyn.

Mom, aunt Chessy and John all came to support me in the tournament but when I began to see the large crowd that was gathering around to see all of us that was competing, my heart began to race and my stomach began churning.

“Full house, oh sweet Jesus.” I groaned as I held my stomach tightly.  I fiddled with my archer’s glove unhooking and re-hooking the straps as my anxiety was starting to go through the roof.

“And here we have future gold medalist Olympic archer Sarah Wick.” I shook my head trying to hide the smile etching at the corner of my mouth and looked up to see John with his phone pointed right towards me.

“Haha you’re such a comedian.” I mocked sarcastically.

“No joke. Those archers don’t know who they’re about to go against.” I winced slightly as I looked down and fiddled with my glove once again.  “Hey, everything okay?” he asked concerningly.  He pocketed his phone and sat down in front of me.

Could I maybe trick him into taking me home? Mom never fell for the classic ‘fake sickness’ trick whenever I needed to get out of something.  Guess that’s just something mom’s automatically know, but John—he wouldn’t know and I’ll bet he wouldn’t even ask questions about it.

“I’m not feeling so good John. I think I need to go home and lay down. Yeah that’s it let’s go home.” I went to sit up but he held onto my shoulder and pressed his other hand to my forehead.

“You don’t seem to be running a fever.”

“It’s a stomach bug. Suddenly started up out of nowhere.” I let out a pained hiss as I groaned lowly.  When I looked up at him, one look on his face told me that he wasn’t buying this act for a second.  “This isn’t working is it?”

“It was a good try.” He acknowledged giving me a wink.  I dropped the act as I let out a deep sigh.

“How do you guys always seem to know when we’re faking it?”

“I may have only been in the parenting game for a short time, but I know how to spot the classic ‘feigning sick bit’. Even pulled it myself from time to time. Now you wanna share what’s really going on?”

I don’t even know myself why I suddenly felt like coming clean to him.  Whether it was him not talking down to me in order to get the answer, or him even acknowledging that I did my best to fake him out.  Either way I finally came clean to him.

“I didn’t think there was going to be so many people here to see us compete. It’s stressing enough with the judges, but the people in the audience……I’m just—so afraid that I’m gonna make a total fool of myself.” John let out a soft hum as he nodded softly.

“I believe what you’re going through right now is what they call stage fright. Everyone gets it, even me.”

“You? I don’t believe you.”

“Oh yeah. Believe it or not this 45 year old, 6’1 giant of a man has and still sometimes deals with anxiety and stage fright.” We both softly chuckled at his statement.

“How do you get by?”

“One step at a time. I can only control what I can. And yes there will be the unknown that you wish you could say ‘hey I want you to do this’ or ‘you’re gonna do it this way’. But we can’t let the fear dictate over something we love.”

“Wow…..that’s—deep.”

“I try my best.” John merely shrugged, which got another laugh out of me.  “And think of it this way; after today: No one but your mother, aunt, instructor and I will remember what you did here today. So don’t do your best for those nameless people out in the audience, do it for the ones that really know you.”

“Thanks John. That really helped more than you know.” He gently squeezed my shoulder and said.

“Glad I could help. And good luck out there.” He stood up and walked back to join my mom and aunt at their seats.

Whenever mom gave me advise or encouragement while she always looked on the positive aspects of it, just between the lines I knew there were times that she would sugarcoat certain things.  Like there was too much optimism in certain events that I knew wouldn’t be good but she’d always make it seem like everything was going to be okay.

John, however, just hearing him speak about the reality of the situation but not making it sound too cynical.  He somehow managed to find the perfect balance of optimism and realistic philosophy.

And it paid off.  By the end of the tournament I had gotten three bronze medals and a silver medal for all the categories I had decided to compete in.

As the years went by, there would also come a test that would push the Wick family to the extreme.  When I turned 14, my mom was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumor.  There would be days when she was able to live with us and live a normal life, but there were dark days when she’d have to live in the hospital for weeks on end.

Age 15

This was one of mom’s bad weeks.  One day when John and her were out on their wedding anniversary date out in the city.  I had gotten a call from John telling me that she had collapsed when they were walking along the docks after their dinner.

However unlike before, this time the tumor had attacked her so aggressively that she now has to be on a ventilator to help her breathe properly.  The doctor’s say that even though there’s brain activity, she’s unfortunately locked in a coma-like state and it’s unknown on when she’ll wake up…..or ever.

It was also throughout this time that John and I began to lean more on each other now more than ever.  Especially when he came back into the picture out of nowhere.

It was just after school when John and I decided to visit mom in the hospital.  I had gotten my German test that he had helped me study for and I wanted to tell mom how I had aced it.  She always wanted to make sure that I never fell back on my class work no matter what events or after-school activities I had.  We arrived at the hospital parking lot and as we got out of John’s mustang, I asked him.

“Before long I’ll have to start driving, think I can practice driving the mustang?”

“Just because you passed your German exam doesn’t make you an expert on my mustang.” He told me.

“Oh come on John. I’ve been paying attention to how you shift the gears and I dare say I’m confident enough to drive it.”

“There’s a difference between confidence and arrogance.”

“That hurts John. That really hurts!” I exclaimed as I held my heart like I had been shot.

“Yeah, yeah report it to Child services. Come on.” we headed into the building and checked in to see my mom.  We walked down the familiar corridor and saw mom in the same position as she has since her check in.  Laying still and motionless on the bed.  I came up and sat beside her and took her hand in mine.

“Hey mom, we’re back. Just like we promised. Hey get this, you know that German test that John’s been helping me with? I aced it. Can you believe it, after months of struggling I finally get an A+ for that class.”

“The real credit goes to your daughter Helen. She’s the one who took the test, all I did was teach her a few tricks to remember what she needed to learn.” Said John as he sat on the other side of my mom’s bed.  Soon my mom’s doctor came in and greeted us.

“Mr. Wick, Ms. Wick.”

“Dr. Sanchez. How has she been?” John asked.

“Well some good news at least. We’ve noticed how she’s been able to now breathe on her own so we took her off the ventilator and for the past ten hours she’s been breathing just fine on her own.” We both sighed in a huge relief.

“Any signs on when she’ll wake up?” I asked.

“That unfortunately is still yet to be determined. But we’ll continue to constantly monitor her progress and we’ll call you with any new updates Mr. Wick.” He said the last part to John since he was the emergency contact for my mom.

“Thank you Dr. Sanchez, truly.” He nodded and soon left the room leaving the three of us alone.  John took his spot back at my mom’s right side while I fiddled with the new bracelet that John had gifted them for their anniversary. “You were right about the bracelet.”

“Told yah. Mom’s never been one for clunky or flashy jewelry. And it really is beautiful.” I stroked along the silver flowers that decorated the bracelet. 

“I’m gonna head down and get some coffee, you want anything from the cafeteria?”

“I’ll be okay till we get home.”

“I’ll get you some water.”

“John!” I whined.

“You don’t drink enough of it, you gotta stay hydrated.” He said standing up and circled around mom’s bed before gently shaking my head around before leaving the room.  I shook my head and said.

“He really is a great guy mom. We’ve actually been getting along more lately since you had to stay here. He’s been taking me to school, archery practice, helping out with my homework. And been the support system I needed even though he’s hurting himself. He may not want to admit out loud, but I sometimes hear him cry at night without you there. So—keep fighting mom. Please, we need you home.”

I lay my head down on her bed as I gripped her hand in both of mine as tightly as I could.

“Helen? Sarah?” I gasped as my eyes shot wide open.  I turned towards the door and there I saw someone I never expected to see ever again.  My dad.

“D-d…..d…..” I stammered.

“My god, Sarah is that really you? God look at you you’re all….”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” I snapped.  “How did you find us?!”

“I-I didn’t. My son’s here for his final chemo treatment.” His son? He went and had another kid after he abandoned me and mom? “So Helen’s got……”

“I don’t need to tell you shit!” I snapped. “Get out of here since that’s what you’re good at!”

“Sarah come on. It wasn’t my fault. I thought you were right behind me, honest!” bullshit.  He knew what he was doing that day, I’ve come to grips with it.  “That day at the mall…..”

“Don’t ever mention that day to me. I was so—so.......” my voice quivered as I tried to contain my emotions that were boiling inside of me after 8 years.

“Oh hey, hey. Don’t-don’t cry baby girl.” He tried to comfort me.  I heard his footsteps getting closer to me and once I saw his feet within my vision I pushed him back aggressively.  “Sarah!” my dad exclaimed in surprise.

“Get out.” I lowly sneered.

“Baby girl I’m trying to make things right with you.”

“Get out, get out, get out.” I kept muttering as my hand fidgeted at the door.

“Sarah I’m your father—” the second he stepped closer to me.  I lashed out with my best right hook and nailed in right across the face screaming at him.

“GET OUT!!!” I tackled him beating him with my fists.  Punching, clawing and slapping him repeatedly in a blind rage repeatedly telling him to get out through my grunts and growls.

I really don’t recall what all happened after that but I soon felt arms wrap around my waist trying to pull me away.  I tried fighting back but my arms were soon pinned to my side as I heard John’s voice suddenly break through my rage.

“Sarah enough! Easy! Easy!” I stopped and my vision became clear once again.  My dad’s face was bleeding profusely as nurses and security had now came to see what the commotion was.

John escorted me out but security tried to stop him.  There were words exchanged between the two of them before John took me out of the hospital.  All the while keeping a secure grip on me but not manhandling me.

Everything felt—numb.  The sounds of the city were muffled and I barely felt myself being moved around.  My hands wouldn’t stop shaking and my heart was pounding so fast I thought it would burst out of my chest.  Never before have I felt such rage to get me into that blind state and attack someone like that.

Next thing I knew, I suddenly felt a stinging sensation on my hand and I went to lash out but a hand stopped me and my vision suddenly became clear.  I found myself back at home with John kneeling in front of me, my wrist gently grasped in his calloused grip.

“Easy, easy. You’re home now Sarah.” Home.  Frantically my eyes looked around to see if it was true and I soon came to realize what had happened.  I was home, my real home.

Like a crack steadily increasing along a newly broken mirror, my shock suddenly began to overflow as tears rapidly fell down my face.  Immediately I wrapped my arms around John’s waist as I buried my face into his chest and wept hysterically.

“I’m sorry John….I’m so sorry John…..I-I didn’t want you to see…..” I spoke through my hysterical sobs.  John instantly wrapped his arms around me, one hand rubbing my back while the other was buried within my hair gently stroking and massaging my scalp.

“It’s okay, let it out. Just let yourself fall apart. I promise to hold you together.” He softly whispered into my ear.  The moment he had said that, I had let out the most gut-wrenching, raw, almost animalistic sob of rage, grief, self-hate, confusion, and sorrow that I had kept bottled in since the day my dad abandoned me.

And true to his word, John kept his tight yet comforting hold on me with each raw sob that came out of my mouth.

After what felt like an eternity and for doctoring up my bruised and bleeding knuckles and palm, I lay there in my room just fingering the bandaged wraps that John had placed over my wounds.  We didn’t speak after my breakdown but somehow he knew that I needed to have some alone time.

Slowly I got out of bed and headed towards mom and John’s room.  The door was shut so I went up and knocked so softly I thought he wouldn’t hear me.

“Come in.” I heard him say.  I opened the door and saw John laying across the bed.  “Hey Sarah. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Can…..we talk?” John nodded and allowed me to sit on mom’s side of the bed.  I pulled my legs up to my chest as I took mom’s pillow and held it over my knees.  The faint scent of her perfume still lingered onto the pillow.  “Did she ever tell you about him?”

“Your aunt made it clear that your father was a…..sensitive subject.” Of course she did.

“I was seven years old. We were out at the mall having our monthly daddy-daughter date. He took me out to red lobster to eat, and then took me to all my favorite stores. Next thing I know as I’m looking at some video games, he’s just gone. I called out for him in the crowded mall but I couldn’t find him anywhere. It was pure luck that a mall cop found me after 20 minutes. I was so frightened and confused…….” I sniffled and wiped away the tears that were burning in my eyes.  “Why did he just leave me like that? Was it something I did or said or—And to come back after supposedly living his new life…..”

“Hey, hey.” His large hand encompassed both of mine as I was clenching mom’s pillow so tightly my knuckles were turning white.  His touch alone made me relax even though I didn’t want to.  “He had no right to suddenly come up to you after all these years. And you are not to blame for him abandoning you.”

“Then why did he do it?” I asked brokenly.

“I wish I had an answer for you. But know that no excuse he can come up with will ever justify what he did.” he wrapped his arm around me, allowing my head to rest just over his heart once again.  I shut my eyes allowing a few tears to fall drip down my face.

“You’ve been nothing but supportive and loving to me these past few years. And I never thought I’d find myself saying this but I like you John. I really, really do like you. But I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to call you…... you know. It still hurts to even say the word out loud.”

“I understand. I never expected you to come forth and call me ‘that word’ as soon as your mom and I got married. I just wanted you to know that you’ve got another person in your corner whenever you feel like you can’t talk to your mom or aunt about something.”

“Thank you John, for everything.” We looked at each other lovingly and he brought me into a tight hug.

“And can I just say, that was an impressive right hook you gave him.” I laughed as I buried my face chest and gripped onto him tighter while I felt him place a loving kiss to the crown of my head.

One last thing I’ve noticed about John were his hugs.  There truly was a difference between the way my mom hugs and the way he hugs.  Mom’s hugs were always a gentle comfort like being wrapped in a fleece blanket.

John’s hugs—well his were like a protective barrier.  Like nothing in the world could get to me and he was going to ensure it with each tight, comforting squeeze he gave.  And while it felt like my bones could pop and break any second, it felt comforting to know that such strength could be so gentle when needed to be.

[mithrilhearts]

We've reached the end of 2024, so that means it's time to recap the year, and discuss what's to come! I have plenty to talk about, and so much I'm planning on!

As always, thank you guys so much for your continued support. I'm very excited to see what directions I move towards in 2025, with new Bagginshield stories, and venturing into other fandoms as well.

Anyway, let's keep it to the point, here we go!

Completed Works (2024)

Short Stories

Below the Belt

Blinded by the Scars

An Unexpected First Impression

Lost In Translation

Heart's On Fire

Multichapter Fics

May Your Forge Burn Bright

Kurdu 'abadaz

As The Tide Turns

Sure looks like a great deal of productivity this year! Completed works wise, I am SO happy with where I've ended up! These three multi-chapter fics were large projects for me, and seeing them completed it so satisfying. It means I am gearing up for new, bigger stories!

Events Participated In

@fandomtrumpshate's 2024 charity auction, with a piece written for my friend @elvain

@fellowshipofthefics' 2024 The Hobbit: An Unexpected Collaboration event with @syenago

Goals for 2025

This is where I have a lot to talk about.

2024 has been a very eye-opening year for me, both as a writer, but as a participant in fandom spaces overall. I am moving into the "enjoy fandom from the backseat" mentality (i.e. removing myself from big social spaces/responsibilities) I just want to write, post, and enjoy things again.

I am no longer going to be tracking my word count - I've decided to alleviate as much stress as possible with my favorite hobby.

I have plenty of multi-chapter fics planned, and the end of 2024 (as it does every year) got away from me. Events and gifts took a good chunk of my time this year, but this coming year I will be focusing on my own stories, both Bagginshield, and some new fandoms!

No word count tracking

No event participation (aka, I'm focusing on my own planned stories this coming year!)

New multi-chapter stories

New short stories

Dragon Age stories???

Baldur's Gate 3 stories???

This year truly has been a moment of growth for me, and I'm learning what does and doesn't work for me. I'm definitely not giving up on one of my favorite hobbies, but I've taken a huge break at the end of this year, and it's been so good for my mental health! I just want to have fun again, and so many of you have been supportive through the year about the various changes I've gone through, and I am so appreciative.

I'm so excited to venture into new fandoms for creating! I have my eyes on Dragon Age and Baldur's Gate at the moment, and who knows what else may pop up over the next year. I'm considering this as an opportunity to spread my wings.

Thank you to the readers, the rebloggers, the kudos & comment givers, and everyone in between for your continued support and encouragement. And especially a huge thank you to my closest of friends who have kept me going this year (you know who you are), and I can honestly say, I wouldn't be coming back without all of you!

Here's to a great 2025, where the words and creativity keep flowing, and the kindness keeps spreading!

Cheers! 🥂🎉

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 11/5/2024

i am going to do my absolute fucking best to stay off the internet today. also the next time i write one of these i will be goddamn thirty. yeesh.

listening

it took three hours to make a normally brisk 50-minute trip back from the airport on sunday bc there were simply so many accidents. my phone wasn't charging, i was kind of locked into the one way i actually knew how to get home, it was pouring, and the only radio station that was reliably coming through was the local dad rock station.

i don't think i've ever actually heard this song all the way through before! i have of course heard the chorus in eight billion advertisements and trailers etc, but i tuned in right at the lyrics

I was a willow last night in my dream I bent down over a clear running stream Sang you the song that I heard up above And you kept me alive with your sweet flowing love

big ren faire lady of shallott vibes.

-

reading

witch hat atelier, the first twelve volumes that are out in english anyway. let's yoink the setup from the fan wiki.

Coco, a girl living in a small village, had been dreaming of becoming a magician since little. But people who don't know how to use magic since birth are unable to become magicians, or witness the moment magic occurs. But one day, Coco accidentally saw Qifrey, a magician that was visiting the village casting a spell. Ecstatic to finally know how magic works, she tries it immediately and transforms her mother into a stone statue. With the help of Qifrey and his disciples, Coco will embark in a magical journey to save her mother.

this gets a lot of ghibli comparisons, and i get it-- there's a lot of concern about healing scars from a near-cataclysmic magical war, lots of contraptions, bucolic countryside, loving shots of food, etc. i think there is a focus on academia and cohort-building, and how networking is a profession all to itself, that we do not generally see in ghibli films. i think the comp pull should go beyond the aesthetics, as well, but ghibli is still a good comp-- the world of witch hat atelier is dangerous and can hurt or kill you, but it treats the reader's heart with the same care a ghibli movie will. things may not be happily ever after or go perfectly at all times, but there are no twists for the sake of twists, and it doesn't sneer or make fun of you for caring about a character. there are no whedonesque "well THAT happened!" moments. these characters are going to learn and grow and you will learn and grow along with them goddamnit. it is queer but incidentally queer. the folx side of the fags-folx spectrum will feel very welcome here but this is not a tenderqueer kind of gay book. characters are incidentally gay because of course they are, that's just how the world works, look at all the fullness of human expression you can encounter in your one short life, why NOT be gay

i did not expect this series to kickstart a fresh wave of grief for my own academic experience. coco leans on her cohort so much and they truly do work together to solve problems and come up with good solutions and i wish i had had that kind of astronomy experience. it's kind of cold comfort that i don't know and have never heard of a woman having a good astronomy experience.

witch hat atelier: very fun to sink into the details on a page (Kamome Shirahama knows how functional but pretty clothes work), endlessly charming veneer on a very taut game of political ethics happening in the grownups' background

-

watching

happy noirvember!!!

Another Man's Poison (1952, dir. Rapper) courtesy of Kanopy's little revolving carousel of new noir films.

An English mystery writer (Bette Davis) kills her husband, then tries to kill a man (Gary Merrill) posing as her husband.

In his review in New Statesman and Nation, Frank Hauser wrote "No one has ever accused Bette Davis of failing to rise to a good script; what this film shows is how far she can go to meet a bad one."

a plot that could only happen in a country where appearances are everything. i must agree with mr hauser and most of the critics of the time who said Huh???? to the script and basic premise. AND the ending is a little too pat. a breakneck ninety minutes filmed in three months where its stage play bones show. however i really like Bette Davis and it's so much fun to watch Bette Davis pace around an English manor house like a caged tiger.

-

playing

fallow week, i am having a consistent problem with the now five year old gaming rig overheating and once i solve that issue i am very excited to play Red Dead Redemption the original (thank you again @pasta-pardner !)

-

making

deep cleaned my entire house. drove three hundred miles this weekend to pick up my sister and her friend from the airport, go to the ren faire, come back from the ren faire, and take them back to the airport. houston delivered to me some of the worst fucking driving experiences i have ever had here. really upsetting torrential downpour for nearly an hour on a road with no shoulder to speak of.

the actual ren faire was fun! i did not realize how vital a chair or bench with a fucking back was to my rest and recovery. it was nice to go with fellow adults and not help wrangle several small children, as fun as a kid-friendly experience can be. got my overpriced gyro for the year. got my bootleg anime merch for the year. wish it hadn't rained but i feel very smug for packing enough umbrellas and ponchos.

[scarletsaphire]

For his entire nine years of life, Danny has had incredible dreams. Featured in every one is a patch of stars, staying just in the corner of his vision, just out of reach. It is only after his first nightmare that the stars appear as what they truly are; a ghost, here to make a deal.

--

This is my Big Boy fic I've been planning for over a year. I hope you guys enjoy.

Danny had always dreamed of stars. It wasn't necessarily that he always dreamed of the stars, but they were always there. Sometimes he'd dream that he was a pirate, fighting glowing green sea creatures that came up from the bottom of the ocean, tentacles grappling on the sides of his pirate ship. Sometimes he would dream of a world made entirely of smudges of color, and he had to save it from the evil people who wanted to erase it all. Sometimes he would dream of exploring other planets, of the taste of space dust on his tongue and a ground that made him bounce like a trampoline. Danny dreamed a lot of things, but no matter what he dreamed about, the stars were always there, just out of reach. They were different then the ones that appeared in the sky; they seemed to flow and ripple like water, and they always seemed to move to the corner of his vision no matter how hard he tried to see them.

For a while, Danny tried to catch the stars. Every time he got close, he'd wake up. But his parents had taught him that Fentons don't give up, and Danny wouldn't be the one to break that streak. So he swore to himself, after what felt like the millionth time waking up in the dead of night, that he'd get to hold those stars someday, even if he needed to go to space to get them. He spent every night that summer trying to catch them, every night waking up disappointed and going through the next day so tired his mom brought him to the doctor's for a check up.

Danny didn't try and catch the stars the night before third grade. In between teaching Danny the correct way to weld, his dad had talked all about how he'd need all his energy to learn the new things that tomorrow would bring. His mom had stolen Danny away to show him the new and improved Fenton Folders she'd finished for him, designed to be able to hold not only the papers for his class, but any textbooks or other supplies he might need as well. They were bulky, and the combination of metal and mesh wasn't the prettiest, but Danny loved them; he'd helped her make them, after all. Jazz had told him while helping him pack that he needed to prepare himself. 

"Third grade is where the real school starts," she said while trying to fit his pack of #2 pencils in the backpack without disrupting the spots she'd already put his other supplies. "I can help you prepare physically, because I'm the best big sister ever, but you've gotta make sure you're prepared mentally. It's a lot of responsibility."

"I don't know what that means," Danny admitted.

Jazz grinned at him, showing off the gap in her teeth. "Yeah, well you're gonna. That's something third grade will teach you."

Danny did not pout. He was nine now, which was basically double digits. He was above pouting. "Why don't you just tell me now?"

Jazz zipped up the backpack and left it on the hook next to the front door. "I can't do that, it's against the laws of third grade. Everyone has to go through a ritual at the start, to make sure they're fit to be a third grader."

Danny narrowed his eyes. "You're lying."

"Would I ever lie to you?"

"Yes."

Jazz stuck her tongue out at him, and Danny did it right back. "I'm surprised Mom and Dad didn't tell you about the third grade ritual. What else do you think they've been having us do those martial arts classes for?"

"Ghost fighting?" Danny said slowly.

"And who says the challenge isn't a ghost?" Jazz was smiling at him in the same way she had when she said she didn't hide his cookies on the top shelf.

"You're definitely lying."

Jazz shrugged and turned around towards the stairs. "Believe what you want. I just know that if I was you, I would listen to your big sister who’s already beaten the ghosts. You don't want to fight them by yourself, do you?" With that she went upstairs, leaving Danny by himself. Jazz was lying to him. She had to be. But...

Danny grabbed one of the half finished inventions laying on the end table in the living room and slipped it into the side pocket of his backpack. It was better safe than sorry.

That morning Danny woke well-rested, having slept better than he had all summer. He’d had a dream about constructing fish bowls out of clouds, wringing the water from them like you would a towel. It had been a good dream, even if the stars still hung in the corner of his vision, taunting him. It would have been a pleasant way to wake up, if the first thing he was aware of wasn't the bellowing of his name from the doorway.

"Danno!" Jack repeated at a volume that only made his ears ring a little bit. "Hurry up kiddo, you're gonna be late!"

Danny blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he tried to interpret the numbers on his clock. 7:10. "Dad, you were supposed to wake me up at 6:20!" Danny yelled, jumping out of his bed, blankets falling in a twisted knot to the floor. "The bus is going to be here in 10 minutes!"

"Sorry, son," Jack said. "You don't have to worry about the bus, your old man can drive you."

"No, I'm sure I can catch the bus."

---

Danny walked out of the GAV at precisely 7:24, with only his nine years of experience keeping him from vomiting. He'd missed the bus by thirty seconds at most. 

"You've got this, kiddo! Face those challenges head on!" Jack called from the open window. "Love you, good luck!"

Danny waved back, and Jack drove away. His mention of challenges reminded him of Jazz's words yesterday. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to take the unfinished device with him to school; his mom had ended up grabbing it to work on, and with how late he'd woken up, he didn't have a chance to grab a new one. That was okay. Jazz was just kidding. Probably. He tightened his grip on his backpack straps and made his way into the school yard.

Danny's plan was to find Tucker. His parents hadn't let him hang out the past week. They'd said something about summer reading stuff that Tucker still hadn't done, and that he was grounded until he got it finished or school started back up. It was completely unfair, and it meant that the couple minutes before they had to go inside were crucial for catching up about all the exciting things that they had done since the last time they'd hung out. Unfortunately, the first person Danny found was not Tucker. It was Dash.

"Are your parents still adding weapons to that hunk of junk you call a car?" he called out from his spot on the stairs. Dash was mean and a bully, and he had been since kindergarten, but he wasn't persistent. Danny had learned early on that the best thing to do was ignore him and walk away, ideally into the sight of a teacher. Danny tried to do this now, but Dash got up and started to follow him. "What are you running away from? Gonna go hunt down some ghosts to talk to? It’s not like any of us want to."

Danny's grip tightened around the straps of his backpack. "Leave me alone Dash."

"What are you gonna do if I don't?" Dash spat. Danny's next step was halted by Dash's grip on his backpack, forcing him to stumble backwards to keep from falling. "Are you gonna tell your weirdo parents? You'd probably have to lie to get them to care." 

Danny spun to face Dash, the force of his twist breaking the taller boy’s grasp. Despite their height difference, Danny didn't back down.

"Stop it," he spat.

Dash sneered. "Oh, I'm so scared." He leaned down until Danny could smell his breath, warm and gross on his face. "Your whole family is a joke, and everyone knows it. You're no different."

There were a number of things that happened in those few seconds. The first was that Danny realized that, whether intentional or not, Jazz had been right about needing to fight a monster. He wouldn't tell her that, of course. She was already insufferable. 

The second was that Danny's hand had let go of his backpack, clenched into a fist, and flew at Dash's jaw with all the speed and might Danny's nine year old body could muster. 

The third thing, which was by far the worst, was the door to the school yard flying open only a few feet from where Dash and Danny stood. This meant that the teacher got front row seats to Dash's tooth flying out of his mouth.

"Daniel James Fenton!" she called, but her voice sounded distant under the rush of Danny's blood in his ears and Dash's blubbering. He only fully processed that his name had been said when he felt her grab his arm. "Just what do you think you are doing?"

Danny flushed red from embarrassment as he realized that the teacher's yelling had attracted the attention of the whole school yard. "He started it," he mumbled under his breath.

"I don't care who started it, young man, that's no excuse for violence!" she snapped. "I'm going to need to call your parents, do you understand that? In all my years of teaching, I've never had to call anyone about something like this so early in the school year." She moved towards the building, Danny dragging along behind her. 

She stopped briefly near the door to point at a student Danny didn't recognize; a 5th grader, by the looks of it. "Would you be a dear and escort Dash to the nurse’s office?" The student nodded.

The teacher led Danny through the halls of the school to the main office. "You are going to sit right here," she said to Danny, leading him to one of the waiting chairs, "-and you aren't going to move a single muscle, do you understand? I'm going to talk to the principal, and then she is going to talk to you." Danny nodded, and the woman disappeared behind the adjacent door.

Danny would not cry. He wanted to, and his eyes burnt with hot, angry tears, but he did not cry. He was nine. That was almost double digits, and someone who is double digits doesn't cry. Danny focused on one spot on the worn, dirty, carpeted floors, trying to get the heat of his anger to burn a hole through it.

It didn't work. Danny cried quietly.

When the teacher walked back into the room, he wiped away his tears as quickly and discreetly as he could before getting out of his chair and following her into the principal's office. Danny had seen Principal Caulfield a couple of times before; she would give announcements in the cafeteria sometimes, and would lead fire drills. He'd never been called to her office before. He'd never wanted to.

She smiled at him warmly, a stark contrast to the teacher's steely gaze he could still feel burrowing into the back of his head like knives. "Hello, Daniel. I assume Mrs. Robertson explained why you're here." Danny nodded. "Mrs. Robertson explained what happened to me, but I want to hear it from your perspective. Can you do that for me?" 

Danny shifted from foot to foot, not meeting Principal Caulfield's eyes. "She can leave, if that would make you more comfortable." Principal Caulfield nodded to her, and Mrs. Robertson took her leave.

"Dash was making fun of my family," Danny mumbled. "I tried to walk away, but he grabbed me and wouldn't let me go."

Principal Caulfield nodded. "So you decided to hit him?" 

Danny nodded. 

"Why don't you take a seat?" Slowly, Danny sat down in the chair opposite of hers. "We try very hard to teach our students that violence isn't the answer here, and it never is. You should've called for a teacher, or tried to settle the issue with words. Do you understand that?" 

Danny nodded again. 

"Now, I'm going to call your parents. I'm going to have a long discussion with, and you will be sent home early. I know that the first day of school has a lot of fun activities, and with your behavior today, I think a fair punishment is missing out on them. If this happens again, however, you will be in far more trouble. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am," Danny said. He focused on keeping his voice from wobbling.

"Good. Now, let me see here..." Principal Caulfield stood up and made her way over to her filing cabinet, rifling through one of the drawers and pulling out a folder with a label that read "D. J. Fenton." She flipped through it, traced her finger down one of the pages, and started dialing a number on the phone. Just as Danny had expected, it went to voicemail. A voicemail that was completely full.

Principal Caulfield frowned down at the phone. She looked through the file again, before looking up at Danny. "Are your parents busy right now?"

"My mom's down in the lab," he said. "If Dad's home by now, he's down there with her. If not, he's in the car."

Her face twisted in confusion, probably trying to figure out what Danny meant by lab, before it settled on an expression Danny had become very familiar with over the years. It was the mixed horror and understanding that most adults got when they realized that those two jumpsuit-wearing ghost hunting weirdos did in fact have children, and one of them was standing in front of them. Danny braced himself for the conversation that almost always followed, even as Principal Caulfield's expression faded into a professional veneer of kindness.

"I didn't realize that your parents had a laboratory in your house," she said. "What type of things do they do in the lab?"

"They build things, mostly," Danny said. That was a major simplification; even though Danny wasn't allowed to help with a lot of the things they did, he helped with enough to know a lot more than that they just 'built things.' More importantly, he knew that Principal Caulfield wasn't actually interested in hearing about his parents’ work, no matter how interesting it truly was. She was poking and prodding around the house to make sure Danny and Jazz were safe. He'd gone through it many times. It was never a pleasant conversation but it didn't normally bother Danny. "They don't let me or my sister into the lab unsupervised, they have all the proper PPE for both themselves and us, and anything they think will hurt us, or that they don't know whether it will or not is locked away where we can't get it," Danny recited.

Slowly, Principal Caulfield nodded. "It sounds like that's something you've practiced."

Danny shrugged. "I just get asked things like that a lot."

"Daniel." Her voice was hard. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Danny," she said, and her voice softer this time. She reached her hands out on her desk and folded them over each other. "You understand that that's not normal right? That you shouldn’t be in a house where your safety is questioned by everyone?"

That was also something he heard a lot. It wasn't like any of them were wrong. His parents weren't normal, and he knew that; what did it matter that everyone else knew that too? But Dash's words from before whirled in his head, mixing with Principal Caulfield's concern and the remaining whispers of the dozens of other people who'd said it. Danny bit his tongue to keep from either crying or shouting. He wasn't sure which was more likely. 

It took a few seconds before he managed to get out the response he wanted. "I am safe."

Principal Caulfield sighed. "Do you have any other way to get in contact with your parents?" Danny shook his head, and she pursed her lips. "Ok. Do they let you walk home alone?" Danny nodded. "Since I'm not going to be able to get in contact with them, what we're going to do instead is you're going to walk home. Straight home, no detours. You’re going to give them a letter explaining the whole situation, and then they are going to call me back. If I don't get a call back from them by -" she glanced at the clock on the wall next to her "- by nine o'clock, you are going to be in a lot more trouble. Do you understand?" Danny nodded again.

The next few minutes passed in tense silence as Principal Caulfield wrote out the note for Danny's parents. Finally, she handed the paper over to Danny. "You're free to leave." Danny shoved the note into his backpack and stood up. 

Just as he was about to walk out of the room, she spoke again. "Daniel?" He turned back to look at her. "Let's make sure this doesn't happen again, ok?" 

All he could do was nod.

---

It was almost 8:30 by the time he walked through the front door, his face red and puffy from anger, tears, and the rising August heat. As he had guessed, the sounds of clinking metal echoed up from the lab. He threw his backpack on the couch, and crouched to untie his shoes. He needed to gather his bravery to face his parents. He'd gotten in trouble in school before; even Jazz had gotten in trouble a couple of times, and she was as goody two shoes as they got. It was just that most of the time when he got in trouble, it was for something that his parents were more lenient about; they didn't care about him missing homework assignments when he had spent most of the time with them in the lab. They didn't care about him not paying attention in class because neither of them could pay attention to much of anything not related to ghosts or science; they claimed it was a Fenton Family trait. 

Danny knew that they would care about this.

He took a deep breath and started down the basement stairs. "Mom? Dad?" he called out as soon as he reached the bottom, peeking his head around the corner.

"Danny? Is it three o'clock already?" Maddie said, glancing over at him in confusion.

"I could've sworn that I only just got started!" Jack said, sitting upright from where he was hunched over his workbench. 

"Time sure flies when we're working," Maddie replied with a laugh.

"Um..." Danny shuffled from one foot to the other. "It's not."

"What was that sweetie?" Maddie asked. 

"It's not three yet. I got sent home from school early," Danny said. He started to explain everything, the words falling out of his mouth as he talked. When he finished explaining what Principal Caulfield had said to him, he pulled out the note and held it out to his parents. They'd both moved to stand next to Danny while he was talking. 

Maddie took the paper and opened it to begin reading, while Jack lowered himself to one knee to get on Danny's level. "I'm disappointed in you, son. I thought we had raised you to know better than resorting to violence."

"Unless it’s against a ghost," Maddie added quietly as she continued to read.

"Unless it’s a ghost," Jack amended. "Then your old man can show you how to shoot the sorry spook right between the eyes!" Jack bounced to his feet, pointing his hands into finger guns, and imitating the sounds of shooting and explosions. That went on until Maddie finished reading the note.

"Jack dear, you've gotten distracted again," she said, folding the note back up and slipping it into her jumpsuit pocket before turning to Danny. "What your father is trying to say is that we're proud of you for trying to stick up for us, but you should know better than to start fights."

"I'm sorry…" 

"You don't have to apologize to us," Maddie said. "You need to apologize to Dash. And that's what you're going to do, right now. You're going to go up to your room and write an apology note to him, and then you are going to go right to bed. No games, no TV, no books, no toys. I think that's a fair punishment, don't you honey?"

"Sounds right to me."

"But he started it!" Danny protested. 

"I don't want to hear it, young man," Maddie chided. "We can be a lot meaner about this if you make us."

Danny bit his lip. "Fine."

"Good. Now, you go upstairs, and I'll give your principal a call."

Danny and Maddie made their way out of the basement together. She stopped at the phone to wave Danny along. "And I'll be coming up to check on you soon, so don't think you can sneak out of the punishment." Danny gave a curt nod in response, not stopping his trek upstairs. 

Danny sat down at his desk in his bedroom, grabbing one of his new school notebooks. He and Jazz had talked their parents into buying a bunch of stickers, and the two of them had spent an entire afternoon customizing their new school notebooks. Danny had, of course, covered his in stars, rocket ships, planets, and astronauts. 

Danny’s lungs and eyes burned with anger as he realized that the very first thing he was going to have to put in his new notebooks was an apology letter to Dash, of all people. But he didn't have any of his notebooks from last year, so he didn't have much of a choice.

He flipped to the first page and lifted his pencil to start writing. The first couple of words were dark and shaky. The pencil tip snapped from the force he used. Danny let his head fall to the desk, and groaned into his arms. "Why do I have to apologize?" he complained to himself, not lifting his head from the desk. "He doesn't deserve it. He's been nothing but mean for years." 

The burning feeling in his throat got more intense. Hot tears ran down his eyes onto the notebook, smearing the few words he’d managed to write.

Danny turned over and glared at the door. His mom had said that she'd come and check on him, but he had grown up with her. There was the chance that she'd make good on her word, sure, but it was far more likely that something would call her back to the lab and she'd forget all about Danny, at least until Jazz got home. 

Danny didn't want to risk the offhand chance of her coming up and catching him doing something she said not to, but that didn't mean he had to write the letter. Not yet, anyway. Danny pushed his chair back from the desk with a squeak, and made his way over to his bed, flopping onto the mattress. With his pillow muffling him, Danny let the tears flow freely.

---

Danny sat in class, the teacher at the front of the room droning on about something. He wasn't paying attention. How could he, when he could feel the weight of his classmates’ stares on his shoulders? Their whispers joined together in a cacophony of noise, getting louder and louder with every passing moment until Danny couldn't even hear himself think. The sound persisted even when he covered his ears with his hands, pushing against his head until it hurt. "Please, stop," he begged. Like a switch, everyone stopped whispering. Danny opened his eyes to see the teacher from the playground standing above his desk. 

"What was that, Fenton?" she said, her voice dripping with venom. 

"I just..." Danny looked around at his classmates, but he couldn't focus on any of them, not under the heat of the teacher's gaze. "I wanted them to stop talking."

"How dare you interrupt their conversation!" Spittle flew from her mouth, bright green, and splattered against Danny's desk where it sizzled, chewing through the wood. He flinched back. "Apologize. To all of them. And then it's straight to the principal with you!" 

"But I didn't do anything!" Danny protested. 

"And you're talking back? If you're ever allowed back in this school again, you can apologize then. But I think the principal might put a stop to that."

Danny tried to stand up, but his legs were glued to the chair. He strained against the force holding him down until his muscles burned, but no matter what he did, he couldn't move. 

"What do you think you're doing, young man?" The teacher said, and she bared her glistening fangs at him. "You are about to be in a world of trouble!"

"What, are you too weak to get out of your chair, Fenturd?" Dash's voice overlapped the teacher’s. "Or is a ghost holding you down? We gonna have to call your crazy parents?"

They didn’t stop talking even as the rest of the class started again, an echoing cacophony of every horrible thing Danny had ever heard about him and his parents and his sister and his house and everything. All he could do was struggle against the chair even as his legs burned from the effort and his head pounded and his eyes leaked hot tears and- 

Danny sat upright in his bed, gasping for air. His school clothes, which he had fallen asleep in, stuck to the skin, and the blanket he'd been sleeping on top of was soaked with cold sweat. He grabbed at his chest, trying to slow down the frantic beating of his heart. 

"It was just a dream," he said to himself, still breathless. "It wasn't real."

Danny'd had nightmares before, but they'd always been full of fantastical beasts and monsters and ghosts. He’d never felt trapped; any time that he'd get too scared, he'd reach to the stars. Their ever-present shimmering would block out whatever terrors plagued his mind, and he'd wake up calm.

The stars weren’t there to save him this time, and that was almost scarier than the nightmare had been.

---

"Did you get the note finished like I asked?" Maddie asked over their Chinese takeout. (Surprisingly, Jack had tried to cook dinner. Emphasis on the tried. He claimed that the hot dogs started the fire in the kitchen, but they had been peaceful since the Great Toaster War, so Danny was pretty sure that Jack just burned the water he'd been boiling. And the stove he'd been boiling it on.)

"Mhm," Danny answered around his mouthful of pork fried rice. He hadn't even started the letter. Every time he did, the cutting words of his dream flooded his mind. It wasn't like she'd check it anyway.

"Good. Make sure to give it to him tomorrow when you go back to school," she said. 

"I still can't believe you got into a fight!" Jazz said. "I didn't get into any fights when I was your age."

"You're only two years older than me," Danny grumbled, shoveling another bite into his mouth.

"And those two years make quite the difference, obviously," she replied. She twirled the noodle around her fork. "I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that-"

Danny cut her off before she could get started. "Can I be excused?"

Maddie and Jack shared a look before Maddie nodded. "Don’t forget you’re still grounded, mister!" Jack called out after him as Danny shoveled one last spoonful into his mouth and retreated to his room. 

The day had passed slowly and painfully, with Danny spending a lot of time staring at his wall. He'd tried going down to the lab to help his parents, but they had made him go back upstairs to his room. It had taken an hour for them to remember to do so, in which they had told him all about the newest ecto-filtration system they were working on developing, but that hour hadn't done much to help with the other ten hours of extreme boredom. That, and the skin crawling grossness from the dream had yet to leave him.

Despite the fact that Danny had done less than nothing today, he was tired. He may have left the dinner table to avoid Jazz's rambling, but he probably would've done that anyway. In spite of the sun still streaming through the window, he made his way through his bedtime routine, before laying down in his bed, this time in his comfortable pajamas.

Apparently, it didn't matter that Danny's exhaustion seemed to run bone deep; no matter how he twisted and turned, he couldn't get comfortable. Every time he thought he'd found a nice position, his hand, head, or legs would throb. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the teacher from his nightmare with the venom filled fangs, or the disappointed faces of his parents and Principal Caulfield. 

Something told him that if he fell asleep, he would be met by similar dreams. No matter how tired he was, he didn't want to go through that again. He tried to keep his hands busy, and when he was too tired to move them with any more grace then a baby, he moved to keeping his mind occupied.

Despite how much he fought it, the soft ticking sound of his clock lulled him into an uneasy sleep.

—

Danny knew that he was dreaming because of the stars. The stars that had hovered at the edges of his vision in every dream but the last now covered everything, as if they were making up for lost time.

"Woah..." he whispered. He'd dreamed of standing in a field of stars before, but this felt...different. Before, there’d always been that one patch that stood out from the rest, his constant companion, a spot inconsistent with the rest of them. It had always felt more real, more physical, then the rest of them. This time, that patch made up everything around him. 

He dropped to his knees to touch one, an exceptionally bright star that pulsed with the beating of his heart. He cupped it in his hands, pulling it out from the inky blackness that surrounded it. It stayed where he held it, with most of the darkness dripping off like water, only a thin strand keeping it connected to the rest of the starscape. It wasn't warm like he'd expected; in fact, it was cold. So cold that it almost hurt to hold it, but he didn't put it down. He'd been dreaming of this moment, literally, for his entire life.

He stared down at the glowing ball, enraptured by its flickering lights, before he realized that it was… wrong. He knew stars; he had begged his parents to bring him to the space museum so often over the summer the people working there knew him by name. Stars were not just balls of light, they were balls of fire that moved and changed. Whatever he held in his hand was nothing but pure light, perfectly frozen, completely unchanging. 

He let the not-star fall from his hands, slipping back into its place in the inky void.

"Is it not living up to your expectations, little dreamer?" Danny whirled around to try and find the voice, but it seemed to come from everywhere, echoing endlessly. The sound traveled in ripples across the not-quite liquid floor, and the echoes only started to fade when the ripples did.

"Who are you?" Danny asked, continuing to scan his surroundings unsuccessfully. "Where are you?"

"You may call me Nocturne," the voice said. "And you already know the answer to the last question."

"I do?" Danny asked, confused. He spun around in a circle slowly. 

"You do. We're in a dream."

"This doesn't feel like my dreams..." Danny said. 

"That's because it isn't one of your dreams," Nocturne said. The surrounding darkness coalesced into one being, the starry cloak extending endlessly into the rest of the surroundings. One cluster of stars became a horned mask, with sunken eyes that seemed to be staring straight through Danny. "It's one of mine. I've brought you here to make a deal."

Nearly every alarm bell Danny had started ringing at once. Despite this, he did not feel scared, just wrong. Something was wrong. He tried to figure out what, but failed. Nocturne was still staring at him expectantly. He had to answer, even if he couldn’t figure it out. “My parents say I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

Nocturne's laughter rang out through the dream, even though his mask remained perfectly stationary, his eyes never leaving Danny. "Dearest Daniel, I am many things, but I am no stranger." He moved closer to Danny. Or, Danny moved closer to him, the ground beneath his feet folding over itself as if the world was being moved around him.. "You've known me for many, many years now."

"I don't..." Danny started to say, but he cut himself off with a hard swallow. He did know Nocturne, even if he didn't understand how. "What are you?" Danny asked instead.

"I am a ghost," Nocturne said, and Danny’s alarm bells worsened as a cold dread settled on his shoulders. Maybe he was in danger. "You don't need to be afraid, little dreamer. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it a very long time ago." 

For some reason, that didn't make Danny any less afraid.

He tried to stumble backwards, only to find that the cold liquid of the pool had hardened around his ankles, locking him in place. "What do you want with me?" Danny said, and his voice was barely over a whisper.

Nocturne tilted his head to the side. "I think a better question is how can we help each other? As I said before, I am offering you a deal. All I want from you for now is to listen." Nocturne laughed again. "I suppose in this case your question ended up just as good as any other." He held his hand out to Danny. "Now, shall we?"

Danny struggled to tear his gaze away from Nocturne's piercing eyes, but he managed to. The ghost's hands were barely visible, blending in almost perfectly to the inky blackness surrounding them, but Danny could still make out the vague outline of claws connected to a hand nearly the size of his face. He knew he should say no; he'd spent his whole life listening to his parents talk about ghosts. They were heartless creatures, a sad mixture of energy and ectoplasm and nothing more. They were more dangerous than anything Danny could ever dream up, had the ability to kill him with nothing more than a thought, and may do something even worse with only a little bit more. He should not take Nocturne's hand.

He tried to move again, but his foot was still stuck in the pool, the cold liquid clinging to him like tar. It didn't look like Danny had much of a choice. Hesitantly, Danny reached out and took hold of one of Nocturne's claws, touching as little of him as he could. Nocturne's expression did not change, but Danny could still feel the satisfaction rolling off of him in waves.

Danny could not remember blinking, but he must have, because one second they were in the star-studded abyss, and the next they were standing at the rear end of Danny's classroom. Danny looked around, confused, and his confusion only grew when he saw himself sitting in the middle seat. His doppelganger was hunched in on himself, visibly uncomfortable.

"You recognize this scene, do you not?" Nocturne asked.

Slowly, Danny nodded. "My nightmare. From earlier today."

"Very good. Tell me, what do you think of it?"

"Um, I don't like it?" Danny answered.

"And why is that?"

Danny shrugged. "I mean, no one likes nightmares."

"Yes, but you've had plenty of nightmares before. Why was this one different?"

Danny bit his lip and took a shot in the dark. "It reminded me of my bad day?"

"Excellent, little dreamer," Nocturne said, his voice laced with pride. "The bad things that have happened, or the bad things that might. Everyone gets them, at some point or another. And yet, for a very long time, yours were special. You were never truly afraid of the things that might happen, but created new things to be afraid of. Isn't that right?"

Danny gave a small nod. It felt like the answer Nocturne was looking for.

"Tell me," Nocturne continued. "Do you want to have more dreams like this one? Do you want for them to be built on the ugly truth of your reality?"

This time, Danny shook his head.

"I didn't think you would," Nocturne said. "Which is why I am offering you an escape from it. I can make it so that you never have these dreams, or any like it, ever again. All you need to do is help me in turn."

Danny narrowed his eyes. He may not have been the smartest Fenton, but he wasn't an idiot. And he had grown up with an older sister. "How would I be helping you?" he asked. "Cause my parents have talked a lot about fairy stories, and they say it’s really bad to make a deal with a fairy, and that fairies are just ghosts that have been mislabeled."

"The details are somewhat complex."

Danny crossed his arms. "Well, I'm not making any deal unless I know what it’s about."

The stars in Nocturne's cloak twinkled brighter. "There is an issue within my home, the Infinite Realms, that requires someone special like you to fix. It is, of course, more complicated than that, but that is the important part."

"And what would I need to do to fix it?" Danny asked.

"It is my understanding that you would simply need to be present," Nocturne replied. "As for the how, that comes back to your side of the offer. Instead of having dreams like this," Nocturne swept his hand across the room. "...you would instead spend your dreaming nights in the Realms. In the morning, you would wake up in your bed as if nothing had happened."

"It won't be any kind of sleeping forever thing, right?" Danny asked.

"It could be if you would like," Nocturne said. "Unless you request it, however, no. It would last just as long as any of your other dreams."

"So you want me to agree to let you take me into the world of ghosts, every night, instead of having the occasional bad dream?" Danny asked slowly. "That doesn't seem very fair to me."

"It would not be the occasional bad dream," Nocturne said. "Dreams are my realm. I know them very, very well. And your dreams have been... tainted. It does not matter whether you take this deal or not, you will never return to the dreams you had for so long. I am simply offering you an alternative to this mundanity."

"Why should I trust you?" Danny asked.

"You shouldn't," Nocturne answered easily. "But you don't need to trust me to agree to the deal."

"And if I don't agree to it?"

"Then you will wake up with no memory of ever seeing me, and go back to a life where you can't escape the horrors of the real world even in the comfort of sleep."

Danny took a deep breath through his nose, and looked around the room. He couldn't hear anything that was happening, but his memory worked to fill in the gaps. The teacher was nearly frothing at the mouth with her green, acidic spit, the other kids in the class were either whispering or laughing at him, and the dream Danny was sitting at his desk. His face was a patchy red, tears streaming down his face. He remembered how helpless he had felt sitting there, and he couldn't imagine feeling like that for who knows how long.

Danny turned back to Nocturne, whose gaze had never once strayed from him. "Okay." His voice didn't shake, despite how nervous he felt. "I agree."

"Wonderful." Nocturne reached his hand out to Danny. This time Danny didn't hesitate to take it, and then the world shifted around him.

[skyfallscotland]

Writing Advice: tips, tricks & helpful links, from your friendly neighbourhood fanfic author ✨ (part one—the advice)

see part two—the resources here

I've mentioned this before, but I truly believe no one's born a great writer. A great storyteller, yes. A great writer? That's learned. I've been reading and writing basically as long as I can remember. Learning to write is like...learning through both practice and symbiosis. In saying that, I get asked about this a lot, so here's what I do and some things that might help you.

Write what you're inspired to write, when you're inspired to write it.

So you have an idea—great! Are you a plotter or a pantser? Some people like to start with an outline, others just jot down a few notes and let the keyboard take them where it will. I'm in the latter camp, generally. For me, the best way to avoid writer's block is to write what I'm inspired to write, when I want to write it. Sometimes I'll write five chapters of a story at once, others I'll switch between a multi-chapter and a one-shot.

What's most important for me, personally, is that I don't try and force anything. If you suffer from demand avoidance, the worst thing you could possibly do (in my opinion), is set arbitrary goals. You don't need to write 500 words a day. If you want to, great! If that helps you, also great, but in my experience, that will generally just make my brain say well no, now we're not writing anything for a whole week, maybe a month, if you test me.

I also personally like to have a whole fic written before I start posting it online, or at least most of it written. I like being quite far ahead of what readers are seeing because I am a pantser. It takes the pressure off and honestly, there'd be so many plot holes if I didn't. Which brings me to...

First make it exist, then make it make sense, after that make it good.

What you see me post is not my first run-through. It's not even the second. I've written, read over, and changed things at least a handful of times before ever posting it, especially when it's a multi-chapter work. Sometimes I'll write a scene I love and then realise it just doesn't flow well, because three chapters back I had someone say a certain thing. In that instance, I'll put the scene aside.

Note that I said 'put aside' not 'delete'. I never delete them until I'm finished with a fic and I'm certain I won't need them, ever. Been there, made that mistake for you! Having a separate document with just various scenes you can insert at a later date also helps you to feel like it's ok to write what you want to write when you want to write it. I'll be honest, I jump around a lot. Sometimes I'll be inspired to write a scene I know isn't coming for another five chapters, but in my opinion it's best to just write it because when I get there five chapters down the line, I might not have the inspiration or I might have forgotten how I wanted things to go. Write what your brain wants to, fill in the blanks later!

Write from the heart.

My most popular work is the one I find the easiest to write and I almost never wrote it at all. Isn't that ridiculous? I almost never wrote it because I know it's cliché and excessive, and honestly...looked down upon. I almost didn't write it because of other people's opinions; then I said fuck it, I want to read it so surely there's someone else out there that does, too? Turns out there were thousands of you. Who knew?

But that work has really resonated with so many people and I think that's because I've poured so much of myself, my pain, my own experiences into it, into her. For that reason, I'd tell anyone starting out to try original character fic if that's what they want to do. Fuck the haters. All their favourite works were original characters once too.

Don't read similar fic while you're writing yours...unless you need to.

Let me explain. If I'm writing a certain type of alternate universe, or a certain storyline I know someone else has written, I won't read theirs until I'm done if I can help it, especially not if I'm actively writing my take on it. This isn't a hard and fast rule, it's obviously up to you what you feel comfortable with, but I would never want to have someone else's work influence my own too much, or get our ideas confused in my head, you know?

An exception to this rule, for me personally, is if I'm stuck with specific things in particular, like smut. When I wrote my first smut piece from a male POV, I was struck by the fact that I had no idea what an orgasm felt like for them, or how to describe it, because despite reading M/M fic for years, I apparently never absorbed that particular verbiage, so I went looking and read a whole bunch of smut from the male POV just to get an idea. Which leads into...

So you suck at kung-fu fighting.

Action scenes. I'm convinced we all hate them just as much as each other. I hate them so much I've changed whole plotlines from canon just so I don't have to include them. Unfortunately, my main fandom features a bunch of knife-throwing, sword-wielding, dragon riders at a war college who spar for clout, so I mean...it's unavoidable.

I still suck at writing it though, so what I now do for sparring and other hand-to-hand combat is search up youtube for sparring videos or self-defence lessons. It's much easier to describe what you're seeing than to imagine the mechanics and positioning of an artform you've never performed. The kung-fu thing was a joke, I like capoeira personally.

Stop being so damn hard on yourself.

Listen, everyone wants to be better than they are when they start out, literally everyone. I know I sure did. That's normal. Accept that it's normal before you start because the thing is, no one's a harsher critic on you, than you are and you'll always want to be better. There's a quote from Ira Glass that I'll paraphrase:

“Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap[...]It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit."

It's very true. Hopefully you have the support of a really welcoming fandom to reassure you that actually, you're nowhere near as bad as you think you are.

READ. BOOKS.

@justallihere says you can’t be good at something you don’t know anything about and it's so true, I've phrased it before as learning by symbiosis, when you read more, you'll internalise more. You're subconsciously learning how story structure works—plot hooks, transitions, metaphors and similie, grammar, style and punctuation.

Show don't tell.

...yeah this one I haven't mastered, I could use some help with that myself if anyone's got any words of wisdom, thanks.

Take all of this with a grain of salt.

I couldn't tell you how many writer's advice threads and blogs and whatever-else I've read over the years—too many, for sure. What I can tell you is 80% of what I've read was crap. It doesn't apply to me at best and it's unhelpful at worst. Maybe it's the neurodivergence, maybe it's just the fact that everyone's different and all you can do is give things a try, but based on that I can say with certainty that not all of this will work for you and that's absolutely fine! But I hope at least a few things do 😌

For links to more specific resources including thesauruses, generators, and other writers' advice, click here.

[nientedal]

Hello, I binged a bunch of your Megamind fics last night (best mistake of my life 🥲). But since I'm not an old Megamind fan, or even an old fan of yours, I don't really know how did you come up with the bird-like singsong language headcanon and not sure where to look for answers either. Megamind with gills headcanon is pretty intuitive, but this? Tell me more, please ~

Thank you for your work. Megamind is a masterpiece, but even DreamWorks couldn't begin to explore all the implications of the story.

Omg I love this question, thank you for asking! And I'm so happy to hear you enjoyed my writing 💙👽💙 I hope you can nap today!

The short explanation is simply that the way I see it, if Megamind's species can live underwater, the language spoken in his culture of origin cannot work the same way our languages do. The primary mechanics of human languages, air flowing out through our mouths, will not work for an aquatic species unless their language is bubbles. So I needed something else, and...I like birds a lot. When I wrote Swansong (I think Swansong was my first fic in which Megamind speaks any Punktsyk), I honestly wasn't thinking about it very much, except "birds whistle and chirp, and so do dolphins and whales, so Megamind sounds like birds and dolphins and whales."

The long explanation of how I got to the fully-developed headcanon for his language as I currently write it is below:

The long explanation is that Megamind's specific combination of birdsong+whalesong was developed over a long period of time. I like birds a LOT, lol. I've also always loved the idea of a Megamind who looks more or less human-shaped, but is otherwise very very alien. So (years & years before I started writing him with gills) I wrote him as making some bird-like sounds very early on in my writing. 2012, 2013 or so, I think. I also wrote him mentioning a syrinx, which is a vocal structure some birds have. Just for fun, because at that time I was avoiding writing very much about his homeworld. And I wrote Swansong, which...as far as I know is the first appearance of Megamind with gills, so I didn't have much inspiration other than "I like birds" lmao. But I needed him to speak to Minion underwater, and I have no idea how Minion manages aquatic English, so I gave Megamind a different voice and leaned into those bird noises I had mentioned in passing before, in other stories.

Aaaand then I got depression and didn't publish anything for a couple years... and THEN I got on new meds and came roaring back to life with new inspiration, thinking, Fuck it! We've had no new information in years! I'm gonna do what I want! Gills! A new language! Let's go let's go let's go!

First, I needed a reason for Megamind to actually be fully fluent in his parents' language, so I gave Minion inherited memories. With the way I was writing Minion's biology, it made sense that his species might be able to do something like that. I thought, okay, Minion lives in an orb underwater, how long would it have taken him to learn any human languages? So Megamind is fully fluent in his parents' language because Minion could really ONLY speak that for a long time.

And THEN I sat down and started trying to actually figure out the language itself. I had already had the thought (several times, over the years) that if those bird noises I gave him are natural for him, there was no reason any of the languages on Megamind's homeworld would sound even remotely human. I was really sad about this, because I had hoped to write something Roxanne could eventually learn to speak, but...it just wouldn't work in my head. I was writing Dive and fully committing to Megamind as a fish-man, so his language needed to make equal sense in water and air, and for that, it needed to be something truly alien.

Like I said, I had written him singing already. This was just his language from Swansong, but more developed. I wanted a deeper song for him, too, like a whale, so I wrote long chambers along his spine, to run air back and forth and sing the emotion underlying the birdsong "words." I also gave him a kind of rolling "vocal loop" to keep air flowing through his syrinx without letting go of it through his nose or mouth, so he can sing underwater as well as in air. I think he probably also has structures he can work behind his nose, for clicking. He can make a LOT of noises, lol.

If I'm remembering correctly, I was still thinking maybe he had a different language out of the water while I was writing Dive. It wasn't until a couple months later when I wrote Wake Your Sleepy Soul that I decided it was a single language. I imagine it sounds a bit different underwater than in air, but the language itself is the same.

There is more I can tell you about Megamind's voice, but I think that's everything for why I wrote his language the way I do! and I must sleep. Thank you again!! If you (or anyone else reading this) have any other questions, please ask away, I LOVE talking about this stuff.

(Oh and go watch Megamind Rules if you haven't seen it yet! I think it is actually very cute and earnest. Wonderful show for kids, I really enjoyed it and hope they release the second half soon.)

[mistresscitrusslice]

"I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian 'cause I care 🩷😘"

Mastermind is THE Meljay song from Mel's perspective. It's about time I did a song breakdown for Meljay bc honestly they deserve it. Truly an underrated overhated couple

"Once upon a time, the planets and the fates and all the stars aligned" Brings up the visual of the astral-looking magic that brought them together in the first place. Maybe fate didn't bind them, but their love feels celestial anyway.

"You and I ended up in the same room at the same time" I don't think Mel intentionally bumped into them in the hallway, but I wouldn't be surprised if she did. If that hadn't happened, I do believe she would have sought him out at a later date, maybe offered him her patronage under the table, but that's getting into fanfiction territory.

"And the touch of a hand lit the fuse" This could not get any more literal

"To assess the equation of you" THE NERDS ARE FLIRTING. wee woo wee woo They're literally so cute I'm fuming. Can we be certain this song isn't actually about them?

"Checkmate, I couldn't lose" I feel like Mel has this attitude about a lot of things. She seems like the kind of person who has at least three contingency plans for every situation and as a result is used to getting her way.

"What if I told you none of it was accidental / And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me?" Mel certainly had her eyes set on Jayce from the moment of his trial. To an extent, even before the trial, from the moment she heard his name from Elora's mouth. Post-time skip, every one of her moves toward him was intentional to attract and mold him. Even before it becomes obvious that she fell harder for him than intended, she clearly harbors feelings and admiration for him as far as pre-time skip.

"What if I told you I'm a mastermind?" BECAUSE SHE ISSSSSS "And now you're mine" BECAUSE HE ISSSSS

"You see, all the wisest women had to do it this way / 'Cause we were born to be the pawn in every lover's game" Something something Mel is a fox. She has to be because she doesn't want to be the pawn to her wolf mother. This is not something she can just turn off when it comes to her love life, but maybe she can learn to (or maybe they can make each other worse)

"I'm the wind in our free-flowing sails / And the liquor in our cocktails" Ship motifs, only loosely tied. (I think that line would work better for Melvik) The second line here works really, really well for Meljay, though. I'm specifically thinking of the opera scene where she hands him the golden flute of golden wine.

"What if I told you none of it was accidental / and the first night that you saw me, I knew I wanted your body?" Oh, she for sure wanted Jayce's body, but more than that, she wanted his mind. She and I can agree that nothing is hotter than reckless intelligence

"No one wanted to play with me as a little kid / So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since" Hmm something tells me Mel didn't interact with a lot of people her age as a child

"To make them love me and make it seem effortless" And she does it well too!

"This is the first time I've felt the need to confess / And I swear / I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian 'cause I care" This song plays it off in a joking way, but this is unironically Mel 😭 She cares about peace, she cares about not going to war, she cares about progress, and she cares about Jayce. The road to Machiavellianism is paved with sweet little arm kisses with your lover's head in your lap and soft finger brushes in the chilly night air.

"I laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk / On your face, you knew the entire time / You knew that I'm a mastermind" Jayce absolutely does not know. He knows that Mel is a political mastermind, but he does not know that that is also being directed toward him, the sweet boy. If he found out that Mel approached him partly out of ulterior motives, he would be mad, but it wouldn't last. They've both harbored feelings for too long not to repair their relationship. He can't stay mad at her and she has a way with words. Their character flaws have glued them together.

[serbarris]

Author Ask Tag

Tagged by @volkoss my answers are not going to be as eloquent or insightful but enjoy I guess lol x

All of these are going to be about my current fic At Best You'll Find A Little Remedy. Which is about Emmrich and my Rook, Calliope!!

What is the main lesson of your story?

Um, intentionally - no main lesson. I think unintentionally, it's a story of Calliope learning to trust herself, in multiple aspects of her life, also to be more trusting of others. Also I wanted to explore the romance in Veilguard a bit more, and flesh out some of the interactions with not just Emmrich but the other companions too. And finally, I wanted to inflict/show some real-time trauma for them since everyone seems slightly too well-adjusted for the Horrors they are experiencing lol.

What did you use as inspiration for your world-building?

Basically, I had a passing headcanon that Calliope was in Emmrich's class as a student, and obviously why would she not have a crush on the handsome 35-40 year old teacher? and ran with it. First I wrote I'll Crawl Home to Her as a starting place for small interactions between the main quests, and then I started to build off those small scenes that's now ballooned into this multichapter fic! Also chapter 1 of this fic was basically - what if I wrote veilguard as a romcom novel.

Also I have a list of things I wish were explored a bit more in VG, so the plotline with the huge books in the Cauldron, an earlier first kiss scene, a [redacted] fight, and can't beat just hurt/comfort and more smut :)

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help them grow as a person?

On reflection, it's a bit of free therapy writing Calliope. Even though she's a couple years older than me, she is v much a younger version of myself. I was very reclusive and introverted (still am) but she is truly the extreme of me at my worst I guess? I definitely feel like I want her to grow and show that throughout the fic - at the beginning of VG she is very much running away from her problems, as well as longing to go home. She's definitely fighting her own demons in a continent without therapy so she is Struggling, but the team do help her a lot and it's the first time she's truly been confident at calling people friends (apart from Audric and Myrna but Myrna's her boss and Vorgoth is like a quasi-uncle).

I also took the chance to explore Emmrich's POV a bit through some interludes that take place. I think Calliope has such a puppy love towards Emmrich and truly has watched him afar for many years that I wanted to punctuate Emmrich only just noticing her, and how it's a quicker descent for him (that starts out a bit more lusty). It's very fun to write Emmrich's POV chapters, his voice comes quite easily.

How many chapters is your story going to have?

Currently sitting at about 22 chapters that I'm happy with the plan for(one of those will probably be split in two so maybe 23 is the answer?) - possibly more possibly less I'm going with the flow!

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Fanfiction babeyy, on ao3, some chapters have been cross-posted to tumble (before I decided to post on ao3 as a multichapter)

When did you start writing?

I wrote a couple of fanfics back in the day when I was a teen for HP and Darren Shan - I then didn't write for years until 2019 when I started to write for my Inquisitor x OC, but I've never had the balls to write their longfic it would be intense haha. Then only picked up writing again in November after doing Calliope's playthrough!

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr?

just write!!! it's fun, it's therapy- post it or don't post it, someone out there will enjoy it, even if it's an audience of you!!

Tagging: @aymayzing @maythedreadwolftakeyou

[lynchian-dream00]

I've been hurting and mourning since he passed. This world feels incredibly empty without him. There are not enough words and I mean NOT ENOUGH words to really express how thankful I am that David Lynch existed and how he inspired me in so many different ways personally and through my imagination.

He taught me that being weird and flawed is beautiful,I should never let that go out.

He taught me to love and appreciate the obscure darkness and non mundane things in life. There is always fear in it but there is also so much beauty to embrace and love from it.

Go with the flow of your life into the unknown whether you fear it or love it. You may never know what you will attract and learn from within yourself.

Theres always darkness around us,but not without those small cracks of light whether you see it or not.

A good mystery is always the spice of life so don't have a boring one, make it exciting and interesting.

Sometimes things don't have to make sense at all. Don't rush to find every answer. Just really go with it, feel it,and accept it.

Words are not needed. You just feel it in silence whether you stare out at millions of crazy bright twinkling stars on a moonless night feeling like time just stopped,look at your cup of black coffee feeling empty,or stare at that dull white ceiling with the fan running questioning life. Silence is a very powerful language.

I hate the world I live in,but David made me feel like I live in an incredibly strange but beautiful world and I know somewhere out there,his magic will always be there.

I could say so much more but it'll be a novel.

Thank you for always putting my mind at ease through your soothing voice,your words of wisdom,and for your incredible films,art,and music. Thank you for making me feel that I'm not alone especially how you made me feel so related to Laura Palmer for her personal struggles.Thank you for making me feel accepted that I'm an imperfect flawed human being that struggles but tries to hold onto that fire.

I will truly miss you a lot.

"Everyday, once a day, give yourself a present.

Don’t plan it, don’t wait for it. Just let it happen."

Dale Cooper from Twin Peaks.

[astrologanize]

april 2024 sun sign horoscope

aries sun: it's one of those months where whatever you have in mind...trash it! let life lead this month. there will be a lot happening so enjoy the ride

taurus sun: a big time for practical self-care as you slowly but surely get your shit together. don't get overly invested in anything this month because things will be redirected. you need to take any dissatisfaction in your life and let it inspire you to do what you need to so that you can improve your circumstances

gemini sun: some things are not going to go your way this month but they won't be too major, it'll be more like 'eh that sucks' and then you go about your day. there will be nostalgia happening and you will still be reminiscing on the things you're unwilling to let go of but ya gotta get out of the past and away from what you think something should be. try to have self-discipline and understand that new chapters happen when you're open to them

cancer sun: there will be setbacks and/or you will be voluntarily taking a step back this month and prioritizing emotional matters/close ones. there may be something you are entering into as a beginner this month or you may just be taking the backseat on something instead of feeling the need to steer. i'm seeing important conversations that have the potential to be healing, try to say what you truly want to say as considerately as possible - try to avoid mindlessly running off at the mouth

leo sun: aw, your month is pretty cute! you're going to need to lean on others this month, or you will be learning how important it is to have people in your life. your pride may try to get the better of you but don't let it, try to let your guard down and understand that you can't & shouldn't bear everything on your own. if life has been tough then know that you have people/can find people who are there for you. be a lil needy this month

virgo sun: hm you seem to be feeling like you're in the waiting area of something, it's like you are open to life and things are moving in a different direction for you but for whatever reason you aren't able or you feel like you aren't able to arrive at the destination yet. try to avoid feeling inhibited, allow yourself to indulge, take things softly, let things flow as they may

libra sun: ah, there will be opportunities for you to demonstrate lessons learned, so you will be catching yourself in situations where you're like 'hm i've been here before...what can i do this time so that i don't repeat a lesson'. have the confidence and assurance in your capabilities to adjust and choose better for yourself

scorpio sun: your head is down...mindin’ your business...no showboating here because there is a focus on job & work. there are insecurities and a low energy that you're going to be experiencing. you're in the process and unlearning something that wasn't serving you and that is hard for a scorpio to grapple with. seek out clarity, be comfortable with the feeling of unknowing-ness, and expect a mildly bumpy april

sagittarius sun: surprise, surprise, a sag is gonna have some luck and have a 'win' or 2 this month. there is a situation that is going to rule in your favor somehow and by the end of the month you're going to feel free of something. this is a time to ~stand on business~ so stay assured in your standards and plans

capricorn sun: i see you're feelin' yourself, there is a sense of preparedness, you're like 'okay yeah i got this'. you may be taking the lead on something this month and it seems that your plans are able to pan out but try not to get too ahead of yourself. you will definitely be getting things done but there is a need to take a step back & see the whole picture - step by step. you do got this! just pace yourself

aquarius sun: weird month...it's like you have awareness this month for what it is you want in your life and what works for you but you're going to be such a child about it tbh, like a demanding diva. you need to pay closer attention because you may overlook something(s), there are issues/feelings that you need to work through, you are going to have some keen expectations that may set you up for disappointment, you need to not dramatize situations and make things bigger than they are

pisces sun: i cannot emphasize enough how much discomfort this month holds for you - but that is where growth lies. you are not going to be thrilled, you are going to be out of your comfort zone in a very not fun way, it's like getting thrown out of the house and having to grow up real fast. whatever is going to be happening, you're going to want to have a breakdown and be erratic and just go balls to the wall about it, or just straight up flee and run away from it all - but let's not do that no matter how tempting. let it be, healthily detach and leave it alone. it could the inverse though, like getting rowdy at a bar and subsequently getting kicked out. either way you need to take a chill pill

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

2024 Reflections

Thanks for the tag, @redroomroaving . I was literally reading Lia’s version of this at that exact moment, thinking that I might pinch the format without a tag - and then lo and behold, you pop up in my notifications ;) I'll tag the usual suspects, @forget-me-maybe @dutifullylazybread and @darkurgetrash <3

What's been your biggest learning point this past year?

I've learnt a lot of things about writing.

I can push through a writers' block. Sprints are the answer, and I may go in several wrong directions until I get through, but I will get there. And when it starts flowing again, it will ALL be worth it.

No amount of sprints can make me exceed a certain writing speed, or stop editing as I go completely. I've practised, and I've got better at just writing [synonym for hot] or whatever in brackets when I can't pin down the exact word I'm after - but writing stuff I'm really annoyed by will throw me off my rhythm and I just have to exorcise the issue. 500-600 "good" words in an hour is a pretty decent top speed, and I'm happy with what I'm writing, so I've learnt to accept the slower pace I work at than some people I know in fandom!

Relatedly, I'll never have time to write everything I'd like to, and I have to accept that and prioritise accordingly. Early in the year, I happily offered to take SFW prompts, did a few, and realised that although I liked what I'd written, my heart was not truly in it and therefore it wasn't sustainable. NSFW ones I find more easy to do; it's a fun and filthy way of giving back to my followers, which is one of the main reasons I like doing it. (And also there's been some DELICIOUS ideas that I wouldn't have come up with on my own!). But I've let myself be more judicious about it, picking ones that really inspire me to write whole ficlets/fics for, and trying not to stress about the pile.

I also found a process for my own fic ideas that I love and desperately want to write, but don't think I have time for: I make notes, discuss eagerly with @krawwan ... and then leave it to sit. The germs of the story are safely written down, and the idea will either grow roots or disappear. If it grows, I'll probably open my computer at some point and find I have one of those top-speed writing sessions, and win-win, it's a WIP now. If not, that's alright! There's always a chance it'll sprout in the future, but for now it's clearly not captivating enough to spend time on.

How has your writing developed this past year?

I've got better at layering subplots. I think, anyway. I've got better at outlining, that's for damned sure! I've also had fun trying out small tweaks to style/voice.

Finally, I've tackled heavier subjects. That isn't to say all writing should - but I feel like whilst Sharp Teeth and its follow ups took a pretty light touch, Planar Tears has given me the space to explore. Depression, guilt, grief and racism/oppression (via Rolan's story) all come up at various times, and we're going to run face-first into Lorroakan all too soon.

(That's not to say a light touch isn't good too; fantasy adventure stories tend to err on the light side as a genre, and I'm writing in a world full of conniving hags and tentacle-waving baddies. I don't think Sharp Teeth would have benefited from anything more "difficult"; sometimes you don't need to dwell on a theme in detail for it to be evident, and I've been a bit worried that some of Planar Tear's more intense discussions have been too heavy in tone. But that's all part of developing as a writer, or so I keep telling myself; you have to experiment to find out).

Bad writing habits?

Writing too late at night.

Convincing myself that THIS is the time I've really gone and lost my writing skills for good when I've got writers' block.

Yapping every three sentences about my writing when I should just be writing.

Mmmm... I wouldn't say it's "bad" per se, but sometimes I realise that either I make an interesting decision, that requires time and thought and research, or I make a simple, easy one, and get something finished. (It's hard to point to exact examples, because I often forget them afterwards, but it's definitely a feeling I've had several times). I think many writers find themselves trying to nail their own personal equilibrium between "good" and "finished", and sometimes I think I let the lure of the posting button summon me a little early.

Favorite thing you wrote?

Every time I say Planar Tears, lol. But honestly, I'm proud of everything I've got up on AO3; I've re-read and enjoyed them all.

Biggest win?

More than having written a lot (and of consistent quality)? Finding a (small in the scale of the BG3 fandom) audience who enjoy my writing. I love seeing returning commenters and kudos-ers across my different works and Rolan pairings. On the occasion I've got comments like "I was supposed to go to bed and then I got THIS EMAIL", I've felt both very happy and very lucky. It's one thing for someone to stumble over my fics and enjoy it enough to kudos it once; it's another for them to like it so much they sign up for emails and chew through all the stuff I've written. That's amazing and inspiring and wonderful.

(It's also very motivating in terms of knowing that if I post, someone's probably going to crack it open pretty soon and take a good look!)

Goals for the new year?

Be a little more balanced about writing. Balance is not a thing I am good at; I'm an obsessive person, an all-or-nothing person, forever burning the candle at both ends. My real life job is also a lot of mental work, and between that and writing I went hard this year. The job is a non-negotiable, and very important to me - so whilst I've got through this year, I've got to be more sensible. (Don't worry, my job is fine - but taking care of myself fell by the wayside a bit)

OOOOOOOOOONNNNNNN THE OTHER HAND, it is so easy to feel guilty about writing fanfiction for a hobby, especially smut. It's easy to put down every cold to some karmic punishment for having stayed up too late writing the perfect orgasm - when plenty of people are cutting into their sleep with more regular hobbies like Netflix or early morning runs or whatever. Naturally, I think I suck more than all of these people.

So I'd like to pry apart the twisted braids of "genuinely having so much creative energy that I want to expend on stuff I love", "needing to post constantly because I love being productive to a pathological degree", "cleaning out the vestiges of shame and general societal opinion about my hobby" and "literally just go the fuck to bed please". We'll see how well I do!

(Oh yes, and finish Planar Tears!)

Your favorite words of the year, aka the words you check each chapter for, making sure you didn't repeat them 788 times?

Rolan has an allotted amount of scowling, and Catrin only SO many lip twitches, that they're allowed to do in each installment of Planar Tears. Calm it down, kids.

I also love a filthy smut noise, and have to do the moaned/groaned/gasped/whimpered comb-through to check I haven't repeated them in close succession. Rolan will do all four basically every time though, I've got no shame about that.

What are you excited for in the new year?

Finishing WIPs! I've got three oneshots 50-70% drafted, and I know they'll be so satisfying to finish. I'd like to clear the decks before I crack open my NEXT bunch of short fic ideas.

Returning to give Fae Bindings and In Service of Magic new chapters. I love these fics, and I'm very grateful for the readers who care about them despite the updates being on the slow side. (I do think it's less urgent in very smut-oriented fics, because although I care too much about the plot of both of them, you don't need to be following it particularly closely to get horny about it... is my attempt to reassure myself anyway lmao).

Life stuff. I'm going on a short holiday soon to meet a beloved tumblr friend, and that's very exciting. My work is also going to be a big focus of this year, and I'm feeling very positive about what I might be able to accomplish.

In short - exciting things <3

[fanfictionstuff]

The Forbidden Taste of You (34)

Amaimon x Reader

This chapter has a lot of smut.

AO3 Friendorfoe22 - if you want to read it from the beginning. I've actually edited the first 20(?) or so chapters, so it flows better.

You disentangle yourself from Amaimon and gaze at the wall, trying to make sense of everything. “This is all so stupid, I shouldn’t have come here," you groan. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

Unsure, you shrug and leave the apartment, sending your mother a quick message to inform her know you are leaving. “My dorm? Your room? Where do you want to go?” you ask as you grasp his hand. Amaimon looks at you for a moment before pulling you closer. “And you said I’m insatiable,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff as he pulls away.

“Part of being a good mate is knowing when your mate needs you.” He counters, pulling you closer again. “Amaimon.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up, we’re going grocery shopping. I want to try to bake that strawberry lemonade cake.”

--------------------------------------

As Cassian walks through the words, he searches for a spot with a decent clearing. There’s no telling how the idiot will react, and it’s better to be safe than sorry, so he carefully checks for an area where fire can’t spread. 

Once he locates the area, he drops some wood and various holy items to help keep the fire contained in one spot.

He watches carefully as the orange flames slowly change to blue.

“Cassian, it’s been too long.” 

Cassian furrows his brow at the voice emanating from the blue flame before him. “Why do you sound insane?” The tone is different from the last time he heard his friend speak. He seems utterly unhinged, though given what Cassian has learned recently, perhaps it’s Satan has truly lost his mind. 

A manic laugh emanates from the flames, causing Cassian to cringe. “I heard your beloved daughter has fallen in love with one of my sons.” 

“Yes,” Cassian sighs, narrowing his eyes at the flickering flame. “Amaimon.”

The flames grow larger as the manic laughter starts anew. “I’m surprised you permit it; he is the weakest of the kings.” 

Cassian glances at the flames with an unimpressed expression. “As long as he loves her, I couldn’t care less. I’m strong enough to protect my family." 

 Satan laughs once more. "Still, The Demon King of Earth. I am curious as to why you would willingly hand over your precious daughter to him of all people."

 The air around Cassian grew colder at the mention of Amaimon, yet he kept his stoic composure intact. "Idiot, I didn’t hand her over to anyone. Anyway, I’ve heard you have two biological half-human children of your own. I’ve also heard you intend to use one of them as a vessel.” 

 “Yes! Rin Okumura, he’s almost-” 

 “I don’t want to hear details of how you plan to use your son merely as a vessel.” Cassian sighs; this was not the conversation he wants to have with his best friend. He had just wanted to know whether or not it is true; he can’t help but wonder if Satan would still seek to use them if he had been the one raising them. Cassian could never imagine harming _____ in such a way. Yet, he has his own vessel, and he knows it’s much easier for angels. “I wanted to confirm something with you,” Cassian says with a heavy sigh. “You’ll leave my family alone. Honestly, after hearing you speak just now, I felt the need to check; you sound absolutely insane.” 

Satan’s voice slightly levels out to sound somewhat more normal. “Cassian, you’re my only friend. As long as you don’t stand with them, I won’t let any harm come to your daughter from my side.”

Cassian frowns at the flame. “My wife too.”

The flames slightly flare up once again. “Fine, fine.”

“My family is important to me," Cassian muttered under his breath, his voice barely rising above the crackling flames.

A stillness envelops the scene before soft laughter flickers back to life amidst the flames. “Oh, Cassian,” Satan drawls mockingly. “We shall see how long that lasts."

Cassian scoffs as he stands up and reaches for the jug he brought with him. “I love my family," he declares bluntly, pouring the holy water over the flames, cutting the connection with his old friend. 

There are many things he had wanted to ask Satan, but Satan is clearly not all there at the moment, and he’s not interested in speaking to a crazy person. “I can’t imagine wanting to use my own child as a vessel. It’s disgusting.”

-----------------------------------

“Try this," you say, holding a spoon to his lips. The lemon curd is still warm; it will taste even better once it’s cold, but you’re curious to see if he’ll like it. He opens his mouth and looks thoughtful for a moment. “Well? Do you like it?”

He gives a sly smirk, a playful glint in his eyes as he leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. His lips meet yours softly at first, teasingly, before deepening the kiss. With gentle force, he slips his tongue into your mouth. The sharp, tangy flavor of lemon bursts into your mouth, enveloping your senses. “Do you like it?” He throws your question back at you while kissing your cheek.

“Idiot, I already knew I liked lemon. Do you like it? Maybe you should wait until it’s cold to get a better- Leave the mark alone!” You pinch his hips as he runs his tongue along the mark on your throat. “Can you go twenty-four hours without touching it?” you huff. “Do you want me to go twenty-four hours without touching it?” He gently nibbles at the mark as he questions you. You bite your tongue. “Hm, that’s what I thought.” He teases. Suddenly, Amaimon's lips are no longer on the mark but whispering into your ear. "There's something else I'm more eager to taste," he mumbles in a sultry voice. 

You gently push against his chest while playfully admonishing him, "Don’t forget, we have cakes in the oven." The faint aroma of the cakes and lemon curd wafts through the kitchen.

"Hmm," Amaimon replies nonchalantly, effortlessly beginning to undo the button on your jeans without even glancing at it. His gleaming gold eyes remain fixed on yours—predatory yet playful—sending a shiver cascading down your spine. 

His lips graze the sensitive area just below where the jaw meets the neck, while his cool fingers slip into your already loosened jeans, igniting an instant blush across your cheeks. 

It all happens swiftly—too quickly for rational thought to catch up. Your back presses against the countertop as his fingers glide over your covered slit, eliciting soft gasps swallowed by lazy kisses. “Amaimon, not in the kitchen,” you grumble against his lips. Amaimon withdraws his hand from your pants and glances at the sofa behind you. “Take off your pants and lie back on the sofa; we have plenty of time.”

You shake your head at him and slip free from his loose grip, creating some distance between the two of you. "The cakes, we don’t have enough time." you remind him again with an exasperated sigh. Amaimon's smirk remains steady, becoming more pronounced as he leans casually against the kitchen counter, nonchalantly popping a piece of candy into his mouth. For most, that grin would send shivers down their spines, an unmistakable indication of his inhuman nature as a demon. Yet, here you are, drawn to him, unable to resist his charm.

"Let them burn," he drawls carelessly. 

“No, I’ve worked hard on them.” 

“_____, I want to eat you out.” 

“Amaimon, don’t say it like that!” 

“Well, my beloved mate, " he says sarcastically. “Remove your bottoms and lie on the sofa so you can receive what only I can give you.”

“Here," he mutters nonchalantly, tossing a pillow onto the plush sofa—its intentions clear. It's not so much an invitation or request but rather... a command wrapped in sweet expectancy. He pushes you back against the sofa and quickly crawls over you.

His hands wander back to your waist, maintaining eye contact as his fingers tease the edges of your denim. Slowly, they shimmy down the pants that hug your curves like a second skin. “Still acting shy?" Amaimon cajoles seductively while coaxing off stubborn material inch by inch until there’s nothing left but naked skin marred with ownership marks only visible to him. His tongue darts out, licking his lips in eager anticipation. 

As you narrow your eyes, he raises a brow. “If my touch bothers you…" Amaimon offers in amusement, his tone clearly teasing, as he raises his hands.

"No," you rush to refute him, words tumbling out too quickly for clear articulation. "It doesn't bother me," you admit weakly under his unyielding gaze.

"I know it doesn't," he replies, sounding rather smug about how much power he holds over you with just a few light touches. He playfully nips at your lower lip before pulling away, leaving behind a lingering taste reminiscent of sweet candies.

He leans back to sit on his heels and spreads your legs. “Do you always have to stare?” you complain, attempting to close your legs, but he refuses, forcing you to keep them open. “You smell so good, my queen,” he groans, completely ignoring your complaints before lowering his head to run his tongue along your slit. “And taste even better.” 

"Shut up," you groan, a mix of annoyance and pleasure in your tone as you weakly try to swat his head away. However, Amaimon merely chuckles darkly at your feeble attempt, his hands firmly holding your thighs apart as he continues his ministrations.

Your body betrays your protests as a moan of pleasure escapes your lips. A low hum resonates against your sensitive skin, causing another shiver to course through you — Amaimon laughs softly without halting his movements, his golden eyes sparkling with devilish amusement as they meet yours.

"Mmm," he purrs, the vibration sending a thrill through your body. "Delicious." His fingers trace delicate patterns on your inner thighs as his tongue ventures deeper. Each lick and each nibble sends tiny electric shocks through your body and puts your mind in disarray.

In the background, the oven timer dings, but you barely notice. Amaimon is a master of distraction, especially when his complete attention is on you like this. You squirm against plush cushions; a lustful moan slips past parted lips, luring him further into intoxicating heat until there's nothing left but blissful pleasure and Amaimon.

"Someone's enjoying this," he chuckles against heated skin. His fingers slip inside you with ease as his tongue swirls around your nub. The dual sensation pushes you to the edge faster than you thought possible.

Ignoring the rush of pleasure, you attempt to push Amaimon away, blindly pointing toward the oven. "The cakes could burn…" Your voice is breathy and uneven.

He gazes up at you, his golden eyes swirling with amusement. "Let them burn," he replies languidly before returning to his previous obsession – lost in savoring your sweet taste.

As Amaimon continues his tantalizing acts, you give up on reminding him about the cakes. Your fingers thread through his dark green hair, tugging him closer. 

He continues his ministrations, letting your pleasure build, drawing out intense sensations before he curls his fingers and sucks gently on your clit, pushing you over the edge. It's an exhilarating experience that leaves you breathless and satisfied beneath him.

Amaimon straightens, his golden eyes glimmering with wicked delight. His green hair is tousled as a result of your earlier tugging. He flicks his tongue out lazily to moisten his lips, savoring your lingering essence. With a pleased smirk, he gazes at you, exuding an air of smug satisfaction.

You attempt to slow your breathing to a normal pace, but it's challenging with Amaimon's eyes fixed on you. He gently presses a kiss to your forehead.

 You lie there for a moment before shooting up. “My cakes!” You quickly grab the underwear he tossed aside and rush to the oven. Thankfully, Amaimon didn’t keep you on the sofa for much longer after the timer went off. “I hope they aren’t dry," you mutter to yourself as you pull the cake from the oven. You added a water bath, so they should be fine, and the lemon curd should help mask any dryness. Amaimon follows behind you, watching closely as you pull the three cakes from the oven.

As the three cool on the rack, Amaimon steps behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “I didn’t say we were finished. Don’t you want more?” he whispers in your ear, gently biting the mark on your throat.

“You’re so horny.”

“Yes, but you smell so good, I can’t help it.” He groans, slightly grinding against you while tugging at your underwear again. “My queen, let’s go to bed.” 

"But," you start to object, attempting to put up a fight in the name of unfinished culinary tasks. You should probably make the icing. You know the mark has strengthened his insatiable appetite for you and his expectation that you’ll comply immediately. "

Amaimon must have detected the feeble resistance in your voice because he skillfully redirects your attention, his hands gliding upwards to cup your breasts and a low growl escaping his lips. “The cakes won't run away,” he murmurs into your ear.

“I have to make the icing.” 

“You can do it tomorrow.” His hot mouth finds a sensitive spot behind your ear, his teeth nipping softly at your skin before his tongue soothes it. “Leave them. I want you.”

“You just had me.” You try to sound exasperated, but the truth is you are finding it extremely hard to resist his advances.

“Well...” Amaimon's voice lowered to a sultry whisper as he pressed even closer against you. “I’m not satisfied yet.”

"But-"

"Shhh," he whispers, his lips tracing your neck. His fingers delicately roll your nipple between them, causing you to gasp. "No more talking about those cakes, my queen." 

He snakes one hand back around your waist, the other still occupied with the tender flesh of your breast. With a swift movement, he tugs your underwear down, letting it pool around your ankles before kicking it aside. 

You let out a sharp gasp as his fingers come in contact with your still-sensitive folds, his thumb expertly finding your clit. His ministrations are slow but relentless, each gentle swipe of his thumb sending waves of pleasure through you. 

"Off to bed," he murmurs against your skin, nipping at the lobe of your ear playfully as he picks you up. He doesn't give you any chance to protest or reciprocate his touches; he's finished playing games - now he's all about claiming. 

With a soft thud, Amaimon deposits you on the bed before he crawls above you in one fluid motion. His golden eyes take in every inch of you lying under him; he looks absolutely mesmerized by the sight, making you blush under his intense gaze. He quickly removes the rest of your clothing. 

“Are you ready for me?" His voice is a mere husky whisper, and it sends shivers down your spine.

“No.” 

“No?” He pauses, looking confused, and pulls away. “Is something-” You cut him off by pushing him onto his back, your face burning as you stare down at the wide-eyed king. Before he has a chance to question your actions, your hands reach for the button on his pants. He huffs and unbuttons his shirt, allowing you to remove his pants. He’s bare a couple of minutes later, watching with slight amusement as you grasp him. “Ah, my queen is just as addicted to me.” He laughs, reaching out to place his hand on the back of your head. “Go ahead then.”

You make a playful pout before placing your lips onto him, the deep rumble of pleasure he emits sending sparks of anticipation through your body. You leisurely run your tongue along the rigid length, reveling in the way he writhes under your caress. His fingers entangle themselves in your hair, directing your actions.  

His voice is a guttural groan, urging for more as he pushes his hips upwards in search of that scorching warmth. He directs your head lower, and before long, you're taking him all in. With a soft pop, you pull back only to descend again, keeping your gaze locked with his. His usually golden eyes are now wide and dark, brimming with intense desire that sends shivers down your spine. It excites you.

"_____, you’re perfect." Amaimon breathes out heavily, the praise making your heart flutter. Your pace quickens as you feel him hardening further in your mouth. The salty taste and musky scent intoxicate you, making your mind go fuzzy with desire.  

"That's enough," he grunts, finally pulling you off of him with a bit more force than necessary. In an instant, he flips both of you over, so now he's on top, and you're underneath him. "Why?" you whine in disappointment; it's embarrassing to admit, but his taste is addicting, and you want him to release down your throat once more. However, you can't bring yourself to say those words. 

“Because I want to cum inside you.” 

“Technically-” You’re cut off as he slips himself inside you, letting out a low groan as he does. Your nails dig into his back at the sensation.  

"Feels good?" His voice is strained, husky with his own pleasure. He bends to nuzzle the curve of your neck as he fills you, each inch driving a gasp from your lips. He bites the mark, and your hips jerk at the sensation. You wonder for a moment if the mark will always be this sensitive during sex or if it is just for a short time. 

Always..." The word feels strained against the onslaught of sensations. You cradle his face in one hand and draw him in for a hungry kiss, delighting at how eagerly he returns it—how hungrily those sharp canines nibble on your lower lip. 

Amaimon's pace picks up slightly as he draws back from the kiss and starts pushing into you again, deeper this time. Every thrust shakes through both of you like an electric current coursing through every nerve ending until white hot spots dance around your vision, threatening to pull all coherent thoughts away.

He gasps and goes rigid for a moment before relaxing into it, his rhythm changing to long, languid strokes that make him nearly pull out entirely on each withdrawal.

"You like...this?" His words are choppy between thrusting movements, anything beyond the ecstasy strangling rational thought left unuttered. The bed creaks under the strain of Amaimon's relentless motion.

You nod furiously despite not knowing whether or not you understood what he said- all too focused on how deliciously good he feels inside—how every stroke sends searing waves of pleasure through your body, arching against his, seeking more than just skin-on-skin contact.

"Look at me," Amaimon commands hoarsely, breaking away from kissing along the side of your neck covered in fresh bite marks overlaid upon older faded ones. “I love you.” He whispers, leaning down to sweetly press his lips against yours. 

Suddenly, Amaimon switches tactics at just the right angle. You groan loudly, clutching onto him desperately, suddenly realizing why he adjusted his approach. Each thrust is torturously measured, now hitting deeper than before, making tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the sheer intensity.

He hooks one leg around his waist, giving himself better access while the other hand rests on damp sheets. His tail wraps around the leg on his waist. "I love--" Your words are swallowed by his lips as they crash onto yours again, desperate and needing. The kiss is hot and fervent.

He pulls back slightly to align himself better at your entrance before he slams back into you, making stars explode behind closed eyelids from overwhelming pleasure enveloping every inch inside-out.

The sensation spurs him on—his pace quickening as your climaxes approaches for both of you until you finally release each throbbing nerve end. He reaches his climax a few moments later, his warm seed filling you. You groan at the feeling. 

He collapses atop you then – sticky skin clinging against each other. You reach up to run your hand through his hair. “I love you too.” He hums, showing he heard you, lifting his head to kiss you. “You’re perfect for me.” He whispers against your lips. “It only took thousands of years for me to find you.” You grin. “It only took me eighteen years.” 

Amaimon nods, “You made me wait a ridiculously long time.” 

"Better late than never," you whisper back with a smile, your hand tracing the familiar lines of his cheek. 

He merely grunts in response before nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin and making you shiver. His arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer against his body if that was even possible. “You should take a bath.” He comments, pinching your hip.

“Do I smell bad?” 

“No, you smell amazing,” he murmurs against your skin, the vibrations sending tingling sensations coursing through your veins. His long fingers trace lazy circles on your back. “Too amazing, come on, I’ll get in the bath with you.” You tug on his tail. “You want to bathe in my dorm building?” 

He sits up and reaches for his pants at the foot of the bed; digging in the pockets, he pulls out a key. “No, let’s go back to my room.”