#and i keep seeing so many posts of people complaining about ooc fics for the fandoms i'm writing in and it just. it gets to me

[kilegriel]

.

[tamelee]

pls bottom naruto is disgusting stop drawing this ooc cringe

Eh? And it hadn't even been a full day.

Anyway, do you know what this means?:

It means… that I don’t give a damn about your whiny gibberish about this top/bottom bullshit, because it sounds incredibly silly. (And wrong because I draw both?)

It’s fine to have a preference, good for you (I have one too!), but if all you care about between a character-dynamic is the single notion which establishes a rule within a fandom that demands only this particular dick in only that particular booty and nothing else, while dividing yourselves between "us and them" while seeing the people who like the same exact characters as your "enemy" and treating them as such— well, 

I have nothing to say to you, I couldn’t care less what you think about me and I don’t know you. 

But for the sake of other creators who are often a target also, some which I know quit because of this… there is a little something I'd like to say about these servers:

You don’t think I (we) know what is said in there and by who? 👀 That your rules of "what is said on here stays here" with a bunch of people online that you don't know, is actually respected? Why do you think I never join any. And bet your ass that I'm not the only one. This constant fighting between NS/SN is such an embarrassment for this fandom, seriously. I hope you realize that.

Because, instead of encouraging a (new) creator to share something about the characters you claim to love (for fucking free) you go off chastise them for not “doing it right”/“your way”, pretending it's some unspoken commission no one knew of or was paid for. Instead of being happy there’s still so much creative contribution for characters from a story that ended years ago, you go complain under fanfics and dishearten writers, often grinning away with your little server-“friends” and make fun of work someone poured their heart in. Or, you huff, puff and breathe fire as you make plans to cancel them out of pure bitterness, to the point (especially new) creators are too scared and dispirited to ever share anything again. It's easy to do anonymously, aye? And if you think that doesn’t affect their lives and sends them right back into a crestfallen pit of dark hell because it prevents them to do/share the single thing in life that gave them a bit of joy, then...

Congratulations; you’re a heartless bastard.

And you, as a fan, did yourself dirty too.

Do you know how many people don’t want to share anything at all for this fandom because you people leave comments, tags, asks, tweets constantly complaining about an incorrect portrayal of the (in your opinion) only acceptable dynamic, like a bunch a brats? Do you? Because I’ve talked to quite a few of these discouraged creators, they have to hope for the best and pray they’re spared from your scrutiny. I receive it from both sides every now and then.

Again, congratulations: you’re the reason there’s less chance of you getting what you want in the first place. 

Do you... really not realize?

The more you squabble with "your enemy" (lol) the more it affects the "us" you care about while the rest of us just bask in the glory that is SNS/NSN and couldn't care less about what you think/have to say. So, keep everyone else out of it and go mope elsewhere.

But, between you and me? There are better ways to share what you think is right. Make something yourself, because what's stopping you?

You’re perfectly capable, it doesn’t have to be art or a fic, maybe there’s just something in the story that you really enjoyed— write about it. Make a meta. Post the panel, show the moment that determined your undying love for this single dynamic and why— whatever.  Because, wouldn't it be nice having someone encourage you to create something you like? 😬 Especially because you and your server feel so strongly about it? And then you don't have to depend on others either?

Wouldn't it be nice?

Well?

Hm!?

Try it, ffs.

[sugar-omi]

What if after cove tells the reader not to flirt with anyone else (in the new post) and the reader flirts with the guy in the front

you're flirting w me just sending this LMAO also i was literally typing up part 2 n scrapped it for this but tbf i think this makes it more coherent so <333 tysm anon also i might've gotten a bit outta control so cove is prbly OOC 🙈🙈 listen.. like i said in my posts where you flirt/tease each other while crushing in step 3, i think cove is just very touchy and Sensual when he flirts back after taking so much of your teasing.... ANYWAY!!! ENJOY THE FIC <;33333

[read part 1: "you in cove are in college, the sexual tension is high.."] [part 3 / TBA]

tags : Suggestive/NSFW, all readers, reader wears a crop-top, drinking, college party, OOC cove?, jealous + assertive cove <333, reader makes cove jealous on purpose, club/dirty dancing w covey <3

synopsis : you flirt with the guy from the library at a party. cove is jealous and does something about it

you know the things that make cove happy, flustered, agitated, cry. but most importantly right now, you know how to make him jealous.

he knows you're doing it to make him do something. to make him react, to make him claim you in front of someone who wants you.

and he knows you're not doing it with even slight interest in the guy, that's why he hasn't crossed the room already. every time the guy turns around you look so bored, turning your head to roll your eyes at every shitty thing that comes out of his mouth.

but then he pulls you onto the dance floor and now cove is antsy.

he watches for a bit, but then your drink spills on the guy and he smacks his lips, saying something that made you scowl and he leaves.

cove takes this as his chance, parting through the crowd of sweaty students and frisky couples half-way pulling each others clothes off in the middle of the room.

when cove finally makes his way to you, you grin and grab onto his arm. "hey covey, having fun?"

cove rolls his eyes at your smirk, knowing that you were doing this on purpose. "you were flirting with that guy from the library."

you groan, "a dumb idea. he's a dick." you start ranting, and cove listens to you, he really does. but as you go on he sees the guy coming back, an easy feat since he towers over most of the people in this crowd.

cove looks back down at you, met with your bright eyes. you were looking at him, knowing that he didn't hear the last thing you said. before you can complain, he leans down to your ear and pulls you into him.

"dance with me."

it's not a question, even though you know you can refuse since cove would never force you, but with how he's close enough that you can smell his detergent and his voice sending a shiver down your spin, you couldn't bring yourself to decline him.

cove doesn't know anything about dancing, and if it wasn't for the boxed wine running through his vines he wouldn't have the courage for this.

but he pulls you into him and while you're silently losing your mind because cove is club dancing with you and he's encouraging it by pulling you into him and keeping his hand on your stomach so you keep moving with him.

even if it means your ass is grinding against his crotch.

you totally forget about the guy you were talking to earlier, trying to gather your composure and you turn to whisper in cove's ear.

"trying something new..?" you smile gently at him, but your lidded eyes are full of mischief and temptation.

cove doesn't say anything, thinking about what to say and he takes a swig of the drink he almost forgot about in his hand.

cove fights a grin when you wipe the wine that spills from the corner of his lips.

you watch the way his throat bobs when he swallows, and there's so many thoughts going through your head.

this game of cat-and-mouse is getting to you both, and this is the night you definitely fall over the edge. but somehow you can't bring yourself to crack first. you want cove to tell you how much he likes you. wants you. needs you.

cove speaks first, deciding to scold you. "i told you not to flirt with anyone else.."

you tangle your fingers in his hair. "who are you to boss me around?"

cove speaks before he thinks it through. "your boyfriend, hopefully."

you just look at each other, suddenly not moving in the middle of the floor to the annoyance of some people.

cove pulls your hips into his by your belt loops, trying his best to wrap his arm around your back while being mindful of the drink still in his hand.

he leans down to whisper in your ear so you can hear him over the music. "i love you... i don't want you to be with anyone else." his hand starts to slide up your side, the warmth of his hand making you squirm.

cove brushes his lips against your own.. "i'm tired of playing games, y/n. i want to be yours..."

you mumble, leaning in. "i want that too..." you close the gap, your lips moving together languidly and as you kept kissing, the music blurring in your ears as your hands pulled and gripped each other, both of you pulling the other person into you even though there was no space left between you.

it was like you were trying to combine your souls to make up for lost time, to satiate your yearning for each other...

cove looks up, breaking the kiss much to your dismay, making eye contact with the guy. the guy scuffs and looks at him angrily for a moment before he storms off, deciding that he didn't stand a chance against whatever you had going on with cove.

"what're you so smug about?" you quire, looking over your shoulder to see what cove was looking at.

he bites the grin on his lips. "i think you've lost an admirer."

you roll your eyes, pulling on cove's jacket. "as if i ever needed 'em." you smile at him, taking pride in the blush that comes on his face. "all i ever need is you."

cove hides his flushed face in your neck, trying not to squeeze the cup in his hand. he loves you so much...

you laugh, patting his back and still grinning when cove comes out of hiding.

the LED lights wrapped around the room start to shift to red, hiding cove's flushed face. he leans down to kiss you again, this time his tongue slipped into your mouth and you let cove have control.

you could taste cheap wine and honey on his tongue, and between the way he keeps your body flushed against his, and his hands are taking advantage of the skin exposed by your crop-top, caressing and pulling you into his chest.

between the dirty dancing you two are keeping up with, thus making his growing hard-on rut against your thigh, and the way he touches and kisses you like this makes you want to sink onto this sticky floor and do something to him but you have every sense not to but fuck is it a thought...

cove breaks up the kiss again, this time you chase his lips and he laughs. the music gets louder as the song changes so he leans down, lips brushing up against your ear. you can't help the shiver that comes over you.

"wanna get outta here?"

your fingers tighten on cove's biceps. he's making you so fucking weak in the knees, and even more aroused with every word and slight touch.

you nod, pulling him towards the door..

[kokocharm]

There's a majority of issues I have with SO many types of fics and since it's my blog I'm gonna complain. These are all my personal preferences and opinions but some are actual mischaracterizations that drive me nuts.

Starting with South Park.

I love Style, it's one of my favorite ships next to Bunny/Mysterichaos and Creek. But by God, most of these are just a copy/paste of each other OR they're mischaracterized so horribly to the point you may as well just make an OC. It's gotten to the point where I will read Kyman fics because of how little fics there are that are bearable, and I'm HEAVILY against Kyman.

Stan, Craig and Kenny get the brunt of mischaracterization, I feel. Tweek has it pretty bad too. Stan, Craig, and Kenny are NOT bad-boy rebellious smokers and alcoholics. Especially Kenny- have we forgotten post-covid? Kenny broke the cycle of alcoholism. He became a famous scientist who invented TIME TRAVEL. I haven't even SEEN Post-covid and yet somehow I understand it better than some people. I can understand him doing weed sometimes, though; this is the same kid who got high from snorting cat piss to be with a big boobed hottie. But he's also the kindest out of the four of them, especially in earlier seasons, so PLEASE STICK WITH THAT!!! NO MORE WEED PARTIES. I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE

As for Stan... this may be a stretch, but I feel like his alcoholism is sometimes... romanticized? Even and especially in the fics where Stan and co. is aged up, the way they talk about it or portray makes me feel icky. He started having sips of alcohol when he was 10 to deal with his cynicsm, because his friends were ditching him because he was such a debby-downer!! That is NOT cute. Get this kid in THERAPY and/or rehab.

(i'd also like to mention that i seriously doubt that Kenny would encourage his alcohol habits. I've seen this a few times and it feels really ooc. Please stop.)

But seriously you people if I see one more fic where Stan is wasted and crying on Kyle's doorstep you are going to see me on Criminal Minds. Have something interesting happen for Christ's sake

If you haven't picked up on it already, romance fics are SO boring and SO SO SO FUCKING DRY. FOR WHAT REASON!! Maybe I'm just too aromantic to understand why someone would want to read some of the most frustrating back-and-forth I've ever seen, but Jesus Christ. Do you know what fic did this good that actually had me jumping up and down? CREATIVE WRITING BY POWDERED_DONUTS. It's a good fic that actually maintains the elements of South Park while also being a mildly cheesy-ass romance!!

That's another thing that bugs me, and probably the most. No one keeps the pure insanity that makes South Park endearing. I'm not talking about the racism or homophobia because that'd be very strange to write about, especially if you are not being discriminated against in that way. Oh no no no, I'm talking about the INSANE insane shit. Like Family Guy being written by manatees. Like Oprah's vagina holding people hostage. Like the US government being unable to tell that the robot they just kidnapped is an 8 year old boy in a cardboard costume. Like how one of the characters is literally a towel who constantly gets high. I know not everyone can be a comedic genius, but can we at least try?

And the insanity doesn't have to be funny!! What about Cartman killing a kid's parents, feeding it to him and then licking his tears as he gloated? What about Butters/Marjorine crying over being "flat" after sneaking into a girl's sleepover to steal a folded scrap of paper? You can keep the pure chaos of South Park while also being serious. Stop holding back. Stop restricting yourself to "realism." Have some people get like.. kidnapped or have them fist fight a fish, I don't know. No one holds back in South Park, so why should you?

And while we're at it, I need more Douchebag/New Kid fics, please. Ones that aren't oc-inserts. I want to read about the silent protag kid who literally time travels with their FARTS. They are JUST AS INSANE as the other kids.

I can understand mischaracterization if it is for the sake of your AU. I have an AU, and for it to work, some character's personalities need to change. Some have reasons for such drastic change and some don't, that's okay. It's your AU and as long as it's not proshippy I will not bash you for it.

Speaking of pr*shippers... STOP. STOP WRITING PORN ABOUT THE KIDS. I don't care if they are aged up, because you aged them up to put them into sexual situations. That is DISGUSTING and I need you to STOP. "B-But the age of conse-" STICK THE AGE OF CONSENT UP YOUR ASS !!!!! Post-covid smut fics are fine because they are consenting adults but let me remind you that TEN YEAR OLDS CANNOT LEGALLY CONSENT. in fact, FIFTEEN YEAR OLDS!!! CAN'T CONSENT!!!!!! And you sure as hell don't need to WRITE ABOUT IT. What is WRONG with you, barf.

I wouldn't take my complaining to heart, though. You like what you like (with the exception of the smut) and that's okay. I am very picky with my fics and I'm not much of a romance type of guy. I enjoy dark fiction when it is portrayed correctly and is not romanticized, but the problem is that most SP fics do not do this.

Also. It's not Major Character Death if they don't stay dead. I always filter out major character death because it would literally psychologically break me but you do you ^_^ i just dont want to miss the good fics bcus someone didnt tag it right

And speaking of tags- PLEASE TAG EVERYTHING. "bbbuut but but but spoilers!!" tags work in two ways. They alert people of what will be in the fic, and they do their part in getting people to actually read your fic. A good summary and correct tagging is so crucial!!! please pick up on the slack yall!!!!

also for the record. his name is butters. not butter. 💀

Are you falling out of your interest, or is ao3 running dry?

[jasminedragonart]

I don't get why you're complaining about things being mislabeled in fics? It happens? Most people who are posting fics nowadays are younger people who haven't been exposed to other cultures. This happens to a lot of people. Do you know how many fics I see getting the Japanese culture wrong? Shit tons. Hell, I see people get it wrong about certain parts of the UK as well, along with parts of the US. Every place has their own way of saying things that the rest of the world doesn't know about

Okay firstly, this was a little aggressive to send for something that was just a harmless comment about fic writing. Secondly, I decided to post this to maybe help these younger writers who may follow me. I know when I was starting out writing I had no idea about different ways people spoke. Heck I know I and a lot of people in the world dont believe we have an accent until we realise we're in just one tiny bit of the world and that had a different way of speaking to the rest of it.

The point is, I watch a lot of american programs, and read a lot of American comics. When I started writing fics however I'd write it in what I was used to saying it as which isnt wrong per se, but, okay let me phrase it this way.

When I was doing my degree we did this really interesting lesson about tone of voice. Tone of voice is more than just making your character say their lines you have to know your character and the story in general. So in Harry Potter the tone of voice is of a male, eleven year old child, from Britian but specifically from the south. This tone of voice needs to be believable for people who live down south or they're not going to be able to suspend their disbelief. You need to make people believe this is a southern british kid. If harry suddenly started sprouting words no eleven year old would use, or this eleven year old would use, you'd be confused. You'd be taken out of the story because this is completely ooc for the character the backstory the setting and the scene around them.

When I write fic I like to keep this in mind. So when I'm writing an american character I think about their history their mannerisms. I also think about my american friends I have and how they speak because they say things completely differently to me. They have different spellings ,different names for things, and it adds a bit of authenticity to my writing when I do add this.

My post from before wasn't a complaint. Not completely anyway. More like a 'hey guys if you don't know a lot about British words and society heres a nice starting place'. And maybe get them thinking about their own writing.

As someone who has two degrees in literature I hoped to get people thinking about their tone of voice, that's all. Education is a good thing and maybe if people are getting Japanese culture wrong you should make your own post about it. Direct people to good sources.

I know I dont know a lot about Asian culture in general. Its partly why I tend not to get creative with the ATLA art in terms of clothes or hair. I dont want to offend anyone and if its been used in the show i could maybe modify it or use that exact outfit because yeah I'm still learning. And we can't learn unless someone points it out.

[saturnsummer]

hi! i can’t believe i’m doing this, being cowardly and asking anonymously, which is so not like me, but i’m really not sure about the feedback i’ll get from this ask so here goes. i really hope you don’t take this the wrong way. i just don’t know who else to ask and among the authors i see in tumblr you’re the one with all the headcanons and looks into their characterization and all huhu.

i just noticed that in the majority of angst(y) aus, sol (a) is always the one who is constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, prioritising her family over hwi/not considering him her family, or ends up pushing hwi away and then the relationship turns out badly, and by badly meaning it ends. i understand the first one since that’s really been the case for the majority of what we get a glimpse of in her life. but i don’t understand the others and i want to understand because so many people are writing it that way, and i interpret it as: they see something i don’t. maybe there are things about her character that i can’t or perceive differently or my 21 year old brain lacks the wisdom for that i miss how it progresses to that. but since i’m too shy to interact with anyone i don’t have anyone to compare notes with, huhu. i don’t really understand the others them because:

she basically said she’ll root for him in his uncle’s place which isn’t something to be taken lightly, she knows the gravity of what she said and more than anyone else she knows what it feels like to have family leave you behind/alone and all (i hope u get what i mean here and that this is sufficient, it’ll get even longer if i add more explaining)

she has high EQ, she basically hit all the right spots in the before they uploaded the video part (if it wasn’t for assemblyman ko…) and this scene is also another example of number 3 where she ends up opening herself up to him again

she knows he understands her in a sense and has this certain level of trust towards him, it can be seen on how she told him about dan but not about anyone else, and even if hwi didn’t show up at that time it can also be seen that she somehow opens up to him in the drinking water as if its booze scene. I guess i just observed that in the instances where she takes the first step and tries to push him away, she rather ends up opening herself up to him.

hwi also has high EQ or at least towards sol (lmao) and combined with his high IQ and the fact that he understands her contributes to number 3

and not all of these scenes can be considered as “working out alright and happily and greatly” since there are challenges in them but somehow it never reaches to that degree :<

as i said i want to compare notes because i understand only a portion of where its based on. i’m not saying its ooc since there is a bedrock on where that could possibly come from, it’s just that i can’t comprehend how its probable to reach up to that degree based on my understanding of their characters huhu. if it is a writer’s thing though perhaps it’s most likely why i don’t understand since all i’ve ever done my whole life is read and not really the type that writes. huhu.

i’m really not complaining or insulting or saying anything bad about or offending the fics, honestly huhu. i just want to learn more about her character and i’m bad at saying things not bluntly :< i tried my best :<

also, if you’re not comfortable with answering posting the answer publicly but still considering to or want to answer my question (i’ve used tumblr for so long but don’t know how asks work) if know a way to kinda hide the ask but answer it and say you want me to dm you about it, i can :<

hello anon! thank you for this analysis that while lengthy, does give me a bit of insight!

I think all your points are valid! about why she’s the one that is the start of the angst, why she pushes him away and not the other way around! I completely get your meaning, and honestly i do see the things you are seeing too!

this is just my personal take on this and how i view sol as being the ‘start’ of angst, why aren’t there fics on joon being the ‘start’ of angst and all, so please do take this with a pinch of salt!

I’ve personally not written any headcanons/fics that are mainly angst centred yet, so I would have to draw on my understanding of sol and joonhwi as characters from law school.

for sol, she’s a big emotional girl. you could see from the way she argues in class, with her friends, with how she reacts all the time. she rides on emotions and uses her heart a little more than her brain. like the bad fama case, she couldn’t give up cause she was emotional about it. like you said, she has a high EQ!

a possible reason to the angst on her part is due to the emotions as well. being someone that follows her heart so closely, she’s easily affected by the people around her and swayed easily. it would make a little more sense for the angst to derive from her, maybe from feeling that she lacks the love for joon. or maybe, a certain incident and she breaks it off.

one other reason is her upbringing. we know that she has biological father that is different from her stepfather. we also know that it is implied that her biological father is not present in her life, and her stepfather is abusive to her mother. as such, this must have been hard on her. imagine growing up in a family far from perfect, would one believe in love? many cases, some say no. they have never seen a healthy relationship before, much less seen one grow in their eyes from young till adulthood. this is the same for sol too. she didn’t see a perfect family, she saw a broken family, no father figure and her mother who endured abuse. this ultimately might make sol think “why is there a need for love? will I end up like my parents? is joon going to leave me, like my biological father did?” it’s undeniable that she might have these thoughts in her mind. thus, it’s a more common catalyst of angst, in a breakup thinking she’s not good enough, or she’s not ready, or undeserving.

as such, most writers might maybe find it easier to draw on this aspect of sol as the angst starter. a short example of this would be in my ongoing “the fairytale you never had (would you believe again?)” fic and in my oneshots “worthy” !

however, I do wonder, “why isn’t joonhwi the one with angst? is sol the only messy one here?” quickly, I thought back to most of the scenes of joonhwi when he is troubled, confused or any sign of him showing emotions.

joonhwi can be an angst starter, but I think it drawn on less since it’s so hard to draw on. from the base line, we know he’s smart. we know he’s probably rich. we know his uncle is the closest person to him. we know his parents died. but all these are just facts, no emotions. in everything that joonhwi does, he does it out of compliance, law abiding, or of a moral code. very few instances does he act of emotions or show a raw side of him.

the only times we could see it would be when he’s confronting his uncle, or the moments with sol later on in the show. he rarely shows emotions, and it’s hard to understand him or his troubles when he doesn’t show many emotions and we don’t know enough about his life. we know he looks up to his uncle, but it’s impossible for him, an orphan, to not miss his parents or have his missing parents not play a role in his development.

thus, his angst would most probably derive from “can i trust her, even after this?”, “is she lying, to cover up something?”, “is sol really the sol I believe in? or was it an entire lie?” his angst would come from one of trust and not from emotions.

i would really love to give a full analysis, but im no good with this. you can always dm me on Twitter or tumblr and we can always have a chat on this! would love to draw from my fellow writer friends to pitch in on this too, since they are honestly better at the analysis. im just a free writer!

thank you anon for you query! do dm me on tumblr/twitter (whichever is comfortable!) and we can discuss more! i’ll keep your identity secret, no worries!

[silvia7272]

Miraculess Ladybug Salt AU: You Always Liked To Play With Fire ~ Blossoming Friendships???

I really hope you’re all enjoying this new series; I honestly just came up with the idea on a dime, and then after I started developing it, I knew I needed to share it with all of my fans.

Also, when I actually get around to including more characters from the movie, it’s gonna be fun giving them some personality traits. I can’t wait.

And er-… I may have accidently messed up with some off the names. Since I changed most off the names already, I then decided to change them for Barbara and Olympia, however I had forgotten that I���d already written their names down in the story. Opps. I thought this would’ve been better since I think I saw some people complain about the United Hero’s super names, so I changed them, as well as if I’m going to add in going to Gotham into the mix and there’s already a character called Barbara, I just know I’ll get hella confused for who I’m talking about. I don’t want people to get confused but maybe I should make a post off the names I’ve already changed to begin with, just to defer from canon. Well, here it is.

My OC: Rosaniline Keyne-Hill was Rosina Scoats

Soliane Rin was Crisono Tassa

Canon Counterparts: Jace Keyne was Jessica Keyne

Aveon Keyne-Hill was Aeon Hill

Medusa was Uncanny Valley

(I kept Olympia the same)

Nebula was Majestia

Brianna was Barbara

Eostrix was Night Owl

So, I might just change them when I can be bothered to.

This fanfic and its ideas were all made before season 4 came out, so if something doesn’t add up please don’t worry. That information wasn’t available then, and unless it fits into my story or I like it, I won’t include it in my story. Also, that new Miraculous wiki can get lost, I’m not putting any of that new information in here if they couldn’t even put it in the show. (Also, so far, I do not care for season 4 whatsoever so yeah, I may not include any of that in this work and the other.)

Word Count: 9435

Tags: @vixen-uchiha​ if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged. I’m very sorry if I’ve missed anyone.

Well, I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Summary:

Note: This fic contains OOC scenes of Miraculous Ladybug as well as a ton of salt, so if you don't like that stuff you may scroll past and have a nice day.

In a world with no Miraculous, no Hawkmoth and no Ladybug, how does our little heroine do?

Well, it usually would be hanging out with her friends, as any other teenager would do...

But, of course, this wasn't normal.

This was reality. It was cold, hard and definitely not welcome.

So, when this girl wishes to have some kind of adventure in her boring, mundane life…

How long does it take for her to regret it?

***

Mlle Bustier had always believed her students were the best in the whole Collège.

In fact, she whole-heartedly believed that all her students could do no harm.

In her mind, they were at the peak of maturity, though they may be in their adolescence and had some seemingly petty dramas, they all prevailed to take whatever they wanted for themselves, when they saw opportunities, they rightfully took.

And Mlle Bustier only wanted the best for her students.

As much as Caline would never admit it to any of her work colleagues, she always knew her class was exceptional.

Kim, Alix, what with two of the sportiest people that were bound to succeed.

Max, A genius who was able to develop a fully functioning AI, when he was a teen no less. She could only imagine what other inventions her little Einstein could invent later on. The type of universities he’d get into, the job offers, oh the endless possibilities.

Ivan, Rose, Juleka, A lead vocalist, guitarist, and drummer in a popular rock band. Though she had heard there may have been a few mishaps in the band, she was sure they would be even better than before.

Mylène, A passionate environmentalist who only wanted to help the world become a cleaner place, and entered as many organisations as possible.

Nino, An inspiring DJ/filmmaker. She always wanted to help out by lending the classroom key afterschool, that way he could work on all of his works. Allowing everyone to take part even, it was truly one of her best rules.

Alya, A journalist's whose goal was to become bigger than Lois Lane.

Adrien, A model, the most famous teenage one by Parisian standards.

Chloé, The mayor's Daughter.

Sabrina, The head of police’s Daughter.

Nathaniel, an inspiring comic book artist that had gained a lot of attention online.

And Lila, a Daughter of an Italian diplomat.

Although she could admit to herself that not all of these aspirations were something that she could boast about, she could show off that all of her students had something they would work for or even show off.

And what did the others have?

Two weather girls and a writer? Caline would have to laugh, compare that with her class and you could clearly see who was at the top.

Although she hadn’t said a specific name for a reason.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The young fashion designer/baker’s girl.

For a while, that name had left a sour name in her mouth, whenever she had been forced to say it for the register, it only took her a few days for her to realise how much it annoyed her whenever said girl was late to her lesson. Honestly, did that girl not value punctuality? Nevermind in the workplace; what about her reputation as a teacher?

She was becoming a lot more reclused, gaining a disrespectful attitude towards her she had no recollection of when she had gained it, and became incredibly upset when she remembered every year on her birthday, the girl would give her a whole assortment of pastries and desserts.

Now, because she had somewhat highly encouraged her students to send gifts for a better grade, it was just a box of chocolates.

Just a small box of chocolates!?

How could she show off her gifts to the others now!?

And worst of all?

She refused to be the good little Class President anymore.

Her example?

Her Marinette off the world?

Did she not care about setting a good example? Or to be a role model to the class?

Really, to be so selfish, to all of her friends, how ungrateful.

She believed she had sorted this little problem when Chloé, in a fit off understandable jealousy, drew over her gift.

Marinette was unreasonably angry at the poor girl, and so Bustier had said how better it would be for her to rise up and become a beacon of light for Chloé instead of letting that hate and anger fester inside her.

To let go and help out everyone.

To not let your negative side take a hold of you and be positive around everyone in your vicinity.

After all, sharing and helping makes the world go round, and we do want to help the world, right?

She remembered those words she had spoken so fondly to her, as she was always someone anyone could come to for advice. It had always worked after all, after students were able to see the correct side, she’d be thanked which always left a small flutter of happiness around her.

Mendeleiev scared many students away, D’Argencourt with his eccentric personality, made students want to avoid being seen near him after lessons ended, and hardly anyone spent their time in the art club room.

Caline believed she was seen as a shining example of light by the other students, and knew she was seen as a Disney Princess by many, Rose had even called her that once.

However, getting back to the matter at hand, she was very pleased when Marinette had gone out of her way to make Chloé happy, of course, her attitude still remained mostly the same but Caline was smart enough to know it wouldn’t take one nice event to help the girl, so she was so proud when she carried on helping the poor girl out. Chloé was smiling more and even asking for a multitude of things from the blue-haired girl, and if she ever saw Marinette get unreasonably upset again, she’d send a very disappointing glare.

She knew being disappointed in students was a sure-fire way for them to do better and work harder, she knew how guilty her students would feel if they ever managed to get that gaze from their teacher, and… If the elder had done this a bit more on Marinette than anyone else… Well, she would just smile, telling them how much Marinette was able to accomplish, her trips for the class were so good, everyone was jealous. So, didn’t that seem good?

And even though she did see most of it going in the trash, she knew Chloé was just a little bit picky, she’d liked the interest in her, it was normal.

Her home life wasn’t something to be overlooked, she just knew the girl only wished for attention, and she was sure to be able to give it to her.

But then she… Stopped.

Caline had believed the girl had gotten wrongly impatient and told Marinette she shouldn’t be so extreme, but Marinette dared to fight back, against her?

She exclaimed that it wasn’t just Chloé anymore, how could she be expected to be nice to both her and Lila?

Bustier was confused, Lila? What did she have to do with this?

And so, the girl explained that she was just lying for attention, every breath that came out was just a lie. And she couldn’t stand it, she’d apparently turned her friends against her.

Now, normally, Bustier knew Marinette wouldn’t lie.

But, she also knew she couldn’t let this ‘lie’ be revealed.

It might harm her reputation.

She couldn’t have that happen.

So, she knew what she had to say.

That this was just girl drama that all teenagers had.

She couldn’t afford to let her empire fall so soon.

And for something like that.

The faces of the other teachers.

The gossip surrounding her.

“Looks like Caline’s not so good a teacher after all.”

No, she couldn’t bare it.

Who said a little white lie would hurt anyone?

In order to keep her class, exactly the same.

A few snips were made to maintain its image.

And if she had to snip her most prized student.

Then… So be it.

***

When she entered her classroom it was just like any other day.

Her students forming around a desk in the front of the room.

She always commended her students for such actions, she knew how sweet and silent the girl could be and loved how accommodating the class could be to her.

She couldn’t help the wondering gaze that looked upon the back row.

A certain seat was empty, but that was routine by now. And even though there was still 5 minutes till the bell, she still marked her late in her book.

Sometimes Caline had to think if at some points she had expected too much of this single girl… But only to remember that, no, in fact, when Marinette had a better attitude, she had expected too less. Back when she gained some confidence, she had always surpassed her expectations, her trips were the highlight off her job, her morning snacks were a welcomed surprise, her need to prove herself let her have as many responsibilities as possible, yes some were meant to be her own paperwork, but she’d never seen Marinette excel so much, it was a dream come true.

If she could just push her, just a little more… She was sure Marinette would go back to her obedient self, and it would make Bustier’s job a lot easier.

Although… The new student seemed like the perfect candidate as well, since Marinette may not follow her good example, she may be able to get a different example.

She could see just how sweet and pleasant the cherry haired girl was, she’d be perfect for the role. Sneaking a quick glance at the girl who was simply minding her business reading a book and keeping to herself. She did take note she had a bit of a limp for the past week, but didn’t bring it up just to not embarrass the girl in front of the whole class. She just knew if she was able to simply send her views her way, a new example would be made, hell she may even be able to have two if Rosaniline became such a good influence on Marinette she may even change again.

She also just knew Rosann would be good for Chloé, after all, they’d have so much to talk about, and coming from similar backgrounds she could make sure they could be paired together as much as possible.

Of course, only she knew about her family name, Monsieur Damocles had been informed by her residence that they’d prefer not to spread this information about, for it had been such a hinderance for her to make friends before.

Bustier frowned, she knew very well her students wouldn’t try to suck up to her, she almost felt insulted that she wouldn’t trust her students.

But the worst part was that she couldn’t brag about her new student to anyone, no one could find out or they’d all face some action from her Mother, she was very clear on that.

However Bustier tried to not let it bother her too much, after all she was sure she could give a gentle nudge in the right direction about trusting friends and not keeping secrets, to coax her out of her shell. She’d just have to be excruciatingly patient.

Clapping her hands was a symbol for them all to pay attention, she’d never raise her voice to them, not even a little, and she knew they would respect it and quieten down their chatter.

And just like that, the door opened to a fashionably late bluenette. Bustier would feign ignorance to the rather disappointing glares stares the girl was receiving, after all, she was giving one off her own.

She sheepishly walked to her seat just as the bell rang, honestly, she’d given her a lot of warnings before about her punctuality, did she really need to brief her Parents in about the situation?

“Well class, since all of you are here now, I can get on with the lesson” And so began her teaching.

It was fairly simple, she knew her students would be able to easily understand, after all, she knew they were the best, the smartest.

She had to explain the project they were bound to complete to a high standard, she just knew it was another to her list of student’s accomplishments she could brag about.

The project entailed 30% of coursework they must do in pairs in the span of 2 months. They could choose any topic so long as it followed the theme.

And this year’s theme was history, generally her students would groan at this topic, but considering they were able to decide on their personal preferences that should help encourage them to complete it to the best of their ability.

Plus, it helped towards their end of the year grade, and helped their teamwork skills. Of course, Mlle Bustier would always try to be as generous as she could, she wouldn’t remove marks from accidental mistakes unlike a purple haired teacher would, she just couldn’t bear to be so mean to them when she knew they were trying so hard to get all of their marks, she couldn’t punish them for that. Even if it was not necessarily the right thing to do, she couldn’t let there be any wrongful disappointment.

As long as they carried on being a great example, she could never fail them.

Besides everyone loved her projects, while having to be in pairs they always got to present it in any way they wanted, a science experiment, PowerPoint presentation to even a play, she was so very proud when Mylène did that play from last year, so impressive and she had gotten out of her shell. All she had to do was make them follow a simple rule before they could go all out. Her students loved the independence, and when they asked what type of ideas she had, she gleamed and expressed her own interest in the fairy tales. There was so much you could do with so many magical stories and elements, the possibilities were endless. She loved always talking about them in at least all of her lesson as she knew how many life lessons could come out of it.

And besides, in a sense, the other thing that made her the best teacher, she let them pick their own partners.

Of course, she had to make it seem like that.

It was always the same since kindergarten, everyone’s names would be placed in a bowl on a piece of paper, and one by one she’d pick a name up, when she read it out loud other people could raise their hands to ask to be their partner.

Normally it would be the first person to raise their hand, however, Caline wasn’t stupid, there were certain pairs she didn’t always want together.

Such as Alix and Kim, if it were a presentation about sports, she wouldn’t mind as much, knowing they would present a physical display of their athleticism… However, she knew if they were paired up for a slideshow presentation about let’s say, politics. She knew they would only start at the last minute, and include a very messily strown up slideshow. And with Marinette refusing to help out her classmates with even the simplest of matters, her hands were tied.

So, if they ever stuck their hand up for either of them, Bustier would wait to see who else would put their hand up, most of the time it was either Max or Nathaniel respectfully, and since they were all friends, no one had called her out for it.

And that’s how she got around it.

So, she started doing her routine, swirling her hand around the, she picked one up and began to read it aloud.

“Lila Rossi. And who would like to be her partner?” Immediately several hands shot up, bringing a smile on her face again, so many wanted to help this girl it filled her with pride and comfort.

And well, she always had to help by picking the most knowledgeable of students.

“Max, I believe I saw your hand up first” Some students moaned that they couldn’t be with Lila, but they knew that maybe next time they would get a shot.

“Ivan Bruel” Unsurprisingly Mylène’s hand shot up first followed by Juleka and Rose, now normally she wouldn’t let couples be together, but she couldn’t break them up, they did their work so well, so she let it slide.

Grabbing the next piece of paper Caline’s once bright smile, dropped as her eyes scanned over the name before sighing audibly, she didn’t need to hide it, everyone knew whose name it was.

.

.

.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng took a deep sigh.

As soon as Bustier told them about a presentation she was immediately filled with dread.

She could quite easily do it well, or at least get a well enough grade considering Bustier’s shady marking skills.

But her partners influence would be something she dreaded.

Best case scenario, they’ll be so repulsed to be in the same room with her that they’d work independently, and it would more or less seem like two separate presentations in one. Her grade was low.

Worst case scenario, she’d be subjected to either do it alone, or screamed about how much they don’t want to be near her. Her grade would be lowered.

Not theirs, hers.

Bustier would exclaim how she wanted the bluenette to rise above it all and forgive them, and until she was a better student in her eyes, she’d be punished for it.

It didn’t help that when her name was specifically called out, there would be a silence they’ll have to endure for what would seem like eternity.

It would either stop when someone so nobly sacrificed themselves to team up with her or Bustier would be forced to wait until the end for the last name to be picked out.

And she hated having to feel like this.

They were all friends, why did it have to be like this?

And well, just like this silence, it would last for a rather uncomfortable time, more than Marinette liked.

Her head rested on the desk, she at this point didn’t care about her appearance in front of the new girl. It had been a week already and at this point Marinette knew they’d be no point getting to know someone who was bound to abandon her.

It was a despairing truth she’d learn from experience, it was why no one hung around her, even from the other classes, they would be a target next.

Marinette couldn’t blame them, if the situations were reversed, she doubted she’d have enough courage to go out of her way to help.

So, she’d just sit, head on desk as time would pass.

.

.

-

“H-Hey! Why do you have your hand up, we told you how she was a bully, why would you want to be her partner!?”

???

Wait-

That wasn’t meant to happen.

Hesitantly, Marinette picked her head up, only to find her seatmate with an eager hand in the air.

She looked over to her face, a smile present as she glanced towards the teacher, waiting for her to say they would be paired together.

“I want to be Marinette’s partner, and I haven’t seen yet why I shouldn’t” Rosann’s head turned innocently to her classmates, she was radiating happiness as they stared in shock. A blond very much as he did want to be her partner when her name was called out, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

“Marinette! Did you threaten her as well, girl you’re unbelieva-”

“I’m afraid you are being mistaken Mlle Césaire, I wouldn’t willingly make a partnership with my enemy, now Mlle Bustier you may continue if you would please” Marinette gasped, she- she’d just put a target on her back. For her! This girl was crazy…

And yet, despite her cute appearance, she hadn’t seen someone look so confident and polite.

‘Wait did I say cute-’

Even though the girl had stated her answer, it wasn’t the answer the class was looking for.

“Mlle Bustier you can’t put their names down together” Someone protested. It sounded like Lila, she was always leading the class for this sort of thing.

“Yeah, put my name down for Rosaniline instead, we know she doesn’t mean it.” That was Alya.

“But I-” She felt guilty for the new girl, she really did, she would’ve warned her how you’ll never truly be able to say your opinion without everyone interfering or as she put it, butting in.

“She doesn’t know what’s she’s gotten herself into, the poor girl” Rose spoke, if Marinette wasn’t so used to it she’d flinch from the words Rose spoke about her.

What was bad, Rosann wasn’t able to speak.

What was worse, Bustier was very much considering it.

“I guess it would be for the best” Marinette couldn’t believe it. The one person who willingly decided to pair up with her, was being ignored to be partnered up with someone else.

Not that Marinette wanted them to be with someone else mind you, but it was their decision, why wasn’t she spared a thought and have people notice that maybe they didn’t have to decide for her?

What was crueller, was that Marinette found the one person that was on her side… Was the one person who was the first to make her clamper up.

“This is ridiculous absolutely ridiculous” Of all people, it had to be her to join in?

“How extremely hypocritical of you Mlle Bustier, if I couldn’t change my partner from the last project then neither does Dupain-Cheng in this one, isn’t this school meant to teach fairness. Well, the only fair thing I see is the fairly incompetent from this class” Of course the students didn’t take kindly to her words as Bustier sighed yet again.

She knew Chloé had a point, she’d tried to persuade Chloé to have a different partner than Sabrina a few times in previous projects, it would depend on the person, if Chloé didn’t mind, she’d moan but nothing else. If it was someone she didn’t like, she’d threaten to call the mayor, most of the times she wouldn’t considering out of all the teachers even Chloé would admit she liked Bustier the most, she’d never blame her for anything and she loved that about her, but she had a point none the less.

Besides, Bustier believed that maybe Rosaniline would prove to be a very good example to her previous one, and this could be a great place to start.

“Yes Chloé, I believe I understand now, it would be highly unfair if we didn’t let Rosaniline decide for herself” Marinette couldn’t help the somewhat annoyed glance she gave to the teacher for that comment.

“But Mlle-”

“No buts Alya, now why don’t we use the idea Chloé suggested?” The class all heard the snicker from Chloé, they couldn’t believe she could stoop so low like this.

And then it carried on like it had been, but Marinette couldn’t help but let her curiosity get the better of her and as the class was carrying on, Marinette swallowed the gulp that had formed in her throat and turned to the girl next to her.

“Err- Rosaniline?” She gently tapped the girl’s shoulder, she turned and showed she was listening.

“Yes?” Oh god Mari don’t lose confidence now.

“Why, why did you do that?” With that, she saw a smirk emerge from the girl.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious, but I am rather petty since I refuse to take the word of someone else before doing my own research” Oh. Somehow that wasn’t what she was expecting, but honestly it was better than pretending to care.

“Although… I should apologise, for how abrupt I was about it” Marinette widened her eyes, why- she didn’t do anything wrong?

“I would’ve preferred asking for your consent first, but seeing the opportunity I may have taken it rather quickly” She grasped one of her braids, a nervous habit maybe, Marinette couldn’t help but notice before giving her answer.

“N-No its fine, I-I don’t mind you being my partner, not like I’ve got anyone better- I mean- I didn’t mean it like that. I just- erm, I just. I’m glad you thought about me” If Marinette had been able to look past her hair, she would’ve noticed the small blush creep up on her cheeks.

“No problem”

***

Normally, a weekend would be extremely relaxing to the young designer.

She had as much time to sleep in, plus she started a late shift anyway, her Parents were the best when it came to that, since they knew how much trouble she had getting up on a school day, they knew they couldn’t ask her to get up early for work, especially since it was their workplace.

And she had completed other homework assignments a while ago, so surely there was no reason for why she should be pacing around in the living room so early for her.

Well, it may or may not have something to do with the new girl.

.

She really should stop calling her new girl, she gave her her name for god’s sake.

But she just felt so nervous.

She told her Parents about this new assignment, and how she actually volunteered to be her partner, and how Marinette in the spur of a moment offered to go to her place on Saturday to start it. And she couldn’t deny when she saw the relieved expression she had when she offered. But now…

She hadn’t had someone over in years, everyone else avoided this place like the plague, the Parents still came though, and although they were slightly informed of the situation, they also just believed it was teenage drama.

Her own Parents showed their own worry, they loved their girl, and they truly didn’t want her to ever be hurt like last time ever again, but they also knew if she never gave this girl a shot, she’d never know.

Was it better to know than to ponder it forever?

That was a phrase Marinette was all too familiar with. However, it still didn’t calm her nerves.

Her Parents had told her if she didn’t want Rosaniline to be around anymore, they’d be more than happy to just so happen have an event take place right at that moment that she would have to leave, even if Marinette hoped that wouldn’t happen.

So, as she continued to pace, she was able to see from her balcony the Parisians all around, her doorway was slightly ajar so she could hear the sound of birds chirping, cars passing, and a motorcycle coming to a stop.

The noise of a motorcycle made her come to a fond thought of her Nonna. She loved her very much, and her free spirit.

Whenever she came back from one of her grand trips, she’d always get Marinette some type of fabric that always made her determined to incorporate into some type of clothing.

It was somewhat why she always stayed in the path of fashion, not just because her Parents would be disappointed in seeing her so unmotivated, but because she still liked the challenge of turning fabric into something.

She giggled, besides that thing from last week, it was the only adventurous thing she had done.

The sound of steps interrupted her as she saw her Maman, she nodded before Marinette felt a slight drop in her stomach.

She was here, she just needed to calm down, it would be fine.

She’d just smile and brace for it.

Walking down the stairs to her bakery was the same as always, she could smell the fresh bread from the oven. She always appreciated this aspect, living in a bakery always meant the aroma was lovely.

Going through the door after her Maman she braced herself to see the ne- er, Rosaniline.

What she didn’t brace for was the little girl cuddling her leg as soon as she entered.

“Hi, my names Piper, can we go to your room now?” She had to compose herself so she wouldn’t fall over with the girl in tow, but she couldn’t help internally awwing at the little kids’ appearance.

Black hair tied back in a red bow, a pink leotard with a lighter coloured tutu skirt. And a short but worn-out blue cape. And to top it all off, sparkly pink shoes faded to orange.

“O-Oh, hi there.” She gave a little wave, still completely confused.

“I’m so sorry Mari, Piper was just too excited to meet you, I’m very sorry for the shock” She saw a concerned look coming from Rosaniline. She sure did fret a lot- ah, she knew she didn’t mean it as a bad thing she just, well, she was used to being quiet and observing.

“Its fine really, but how come you brought your… Sister here?” She was unsure if the guess was right but considering the nod from the other girl, she relaxed knowing she was right. And considering she had to ignore a comment made from her Parents about a nickname she was given, she could just ignore that.

“I’m so sorry for the late notice, it’s just, something came up and I couldn’t find anyone able to take care of her. I’m really sorry for not telling you before but I- I don’t have your phone number so I couldn’t tell you. Eheh. I promise she won’t cause any trouble. Right?” The smaller girl, now back at her Sister’s side, bounced and repeated yes several times.

She looked to her Parents, almost asking them if it was alright, this whole situation caught her slightly off guard, and she momentarily forgot the question was directed at her.

Luckily her Maman was ready.

“Of course its fine, my, your Sister is such a cutie. And what’s your name sweetie?” Her Mother crouched down to make eye level. The girl puffed her chest out before standing straight up.

“My name is Piper Keyne-Hill ma’am, and I am 6 years old” She held one hand up before she looked up.

“Did I do it right?” Rosaniline smiled before bending down to her level as well.

“Do you believe that is the right answer?” Her use of that caused attention to Piper’s hand as the little one looked back, she gasped before proudly extending another finger up.

“There you go” She ruffled her hair as Marinette saw her Mother continue talking with Piper.

And yet… She felt that dread from earlier flee away, seeing Rosaniline interacting with her Sister so fondly brought heat to her cheeks and inside. She just, felt so calm around her.

And that warm smile…

She, kinda wanted her to smile like that to her…

“Marinette?” That broke her out of her trance, she looked over at her Papa who had a confused look.

“Shouldn’t you two start working on the project?”

“Huh? Oh- oh yeah, yes of course the project… Eh, Rosaniline lets go, I’ve got some kid books to keep Piper company” She didn’t mind the weight on her arm, or the way her Parents smiled at her interactions with the cherry haired girl.

She just minded how heavy her heart was pounding for some reason.

.

Marinette never considered her room big, she always found it spacious, it might be due to her always misplacing at least something when she’s in a rush, but she knew where it would be.

Stepping over to her desk draw, she pulls out a bunch of child books, since Nadja always did spring a babysitting job on her, she figured there was no reason to place them somewhere that would be too much of a hassle to keep getting out. So, she kept them closer.

Turning back, she saw the two looking around her room, Piper held so much excitement as Rosaniline wore a smile.

“Woooooow, it’s so pink, Rosalee what type is it?” Tugging at her Sister’s cardigan the older girl smiled.

“There are many different types, so I doubt I know the exact one… But I’d say it was a coral pink” She pattered her head as she too looked over the room, a somewhat reminiscent expression as she takes it all in.

“Mari I’m so jealous, to be able to live in a bakery with all of those magnificent smells around every day, it must be like heaven” Marinette scratched her head, ok- this was all so different, no matter how much she wanted to go back to her usual self, there was always something holding her back. Almost like, if she fell in this trap again, she’d mess it up, before she could be comfortable.

There she goes again, over thinking the situation like before.

No wonder-

“Ahh- it’s a tiger, look look” Piper’s voice brought her out of it as she saw Piper sitting in Rosaniline’s legs.

“Mmhmmn, so, Mari should we get started?” Marinette could only nod before they pulled out some books to get started.

***

‘This was easier when I had to do it on my own’ The bluenette thought, now don’t get her wrong, they weren’t arguing or anything, they just couldn’t exactly agree on a subject together.

When Rosaniline suggested gory fairy tales, she had to physically force herself not to shudder, fortunately the girl opposite her said it was a mere jest, thinking it would’ve been funny to see the teachers face when they spoke about it, but maybe it would be too much.

Rosaniline even joked that they may not have anything in common at all, that did nothing to soothe the young girls’ nerves. She just knew this might not have been the best decision, if they couldn’t find a topic, she knew Bustier would blame her for it, and if Bustier blamed her no doubt the class would as well. And it would just be one more point for them as they’d slowly but surely turn Rosaniline away from her.

It’s not like she would be disappointed or anything, it’s just, she’d rather be right now than in the future with her hopes up.

But, it didn’t help that her feelings were so mixed about this. Why was it she wanted to get to know Rosaniline?

Knock knock.

“Girls, I think you’re due a break now, don’t you?” Marinette was relieved, surely after some food they’ll be able to come up with at least one idea.

“Yes, Mlle Dupain-Cheng, that would be lovely.”

“Now stop that, you can call me Sabine, aw such a polite child you are” She blushed as she rubbed the back of her head.

“Marinette dear, mind if you help me?” Her eyes were confused, her Maman would normally never ask for help, what was so different now?

But not wanting to cause a scene she nodded and proceeded to climb down, just as Piper was moving onto a different type of picture book.

Going over to the kitchen she saw that her Mother had prepared so much food it would’ve looked like a feast, but that was how she was, whenever guests came over you could see more food on a table than a table.

She hoped Rosaniline and Piper had an appetite.

“Is everything alright dear?” She felt her Maman’s hands on her shoulders, it was always reassuring that her Parents did so much to look out for her, even when she pretended to be just fine her Parents would give her time just to be by herself if she needed it and then be there if she wanted to talk.

“Yes Maman, she’s really nice… We just haven’t figured out what topic to do yet.” She laughed nervously as her Mother couldn’t help but give a somewhat serious expression.

“You know, if you at all feel uncomfortable, we can still make up an excuse-” She shook her head.

“No Maman its fine really, if anything we’ll just keep it to the school library… She’s- I don’t know, I can’t explain it, I just feel-”

“Relaxed?” Her Mother finished the sentence for her, she nodded as Sabine thought how glad this girl was making her feel.

“Alright, well then get back up there, you don’t want her thinking you abandoned her?” She nudged her cheek as Marinette pushed her hand gently. She gave her Mum a kiss on the cheek before making her way back up to her room.

She couldn’t explain the feeling much, it was like she was feeling peaceful, a smooth tranquillity around her.

It wasn’t a feeling she had around her older friends, it always seemed like whatever they did was rushed, no time to process it. Or they didn’t let her speak.

Rosaniline did, she let her speak, she listened to her, she made her- feel.

She didn’t want that feeling to go away.

“Piper- I know you like this book, but I don’t think you should be flicking through it.”

“But why? Marilee gave me these. And they look so pretty I want one.” The little one responded, she didn’t demand, she was raised better than that.

“Well, I don’t think she meant to give you this one.” She was confused, wait what book was it?

Her heart stopped as she saw a pink cover-

That- that was her commission book!

She was rushing too much to even notice that she’d given Piper that one book.

Oh god, she was going to see her secret, that she was starting her own commission blog, that she was MDC- that she could tell everyone at Collège Françoise Dupont, and it could ruin her career. That everyone could post lies about her, making nobody trust her and demand refunds, and maybe she’d get taken in by the police- be sent to jail and never have her dream job of-

“Mari? Hey, Mari can you hear me?” She felt warm hands wrap around her own. She could feel herself look up as silver concerned eyes looked back at hers.

She felt another tug at her skirt, looking down to see Piper with her own worried expression.

“Did I make Marilee upset?” It was a simple question that pulled at her heartstrings, she felt tears prickle at her eyes for her overthinking. But she didn’t mean for Piper to be upset, or for Rosaniline to be worried either.

There she went again, overthinking every little thing that she couldn’t account for, why did she have to be this way, why did she have to be so cynical and downright negative.

“Oh no, heavens no Piper, I just- er had something in my eye, yeah. You didn’t do anything Piper, I’m glad you like the books I gave you.” Piper smile grew as she proceeded to drag Marinette over to the books again.

She seemed to be putting on an act though, from what Rosaniline could see. She was panicking over something, why? She didn’t know, she did want to find out but didn’t want to push it. She had a habit of wanting to find out answers, it wasn’t a bad thing, she remembered her Mum say, it’s just sometimes she could be just a teeny bit insensitive about it.

Looking over the scene she saw her little Sister pointing excitedly at the pages of sketched clothing, her saying how much she loved them and all the colours that she used and said how the author was so creative.

Marinette laughed along, her tears faded as she enjoyed Piper’s enthusiasm, almost making a note to definitely make her something- and for Rosaniline of course, it’ll be weird to make it for one and not the other.

And then- an idea struck.

“I know, why don’t we do it about the history of fashion?” The dark-skinned girl spoke up. She saw two heads turn towards her as she grinned. Putting her hands together near her cheeks as she spiralled in her own thoughts.

“I’ve always wanted to learn more about it, to see the transformations going through all the ages. And this could be the perfect time. So, what do you think?” It was a question that seemed as if she could reject it, but it still felt like a trick.

What if she didn’t suggest this as a solution, but for convenience for herself, since now she knew she liked fashion and would make her do all the work, it’s not like it hadn’t happened before, so why did it hurt so much to have her do it?

Did she have any right to object, wouldn’t it seem like she was being way to fussy? They already saw her sketches before, so she couldn’t deny she was a good artist. But then what if the others thought it was her idea?

That she made Rosaniline chose this subject, and get told how selfish to have done so, a disappointing gaze from Bustier, a disapproving gaze from Adrien, she felt her chest tighten up again, oh god, she was overthinking again, why did she have to be like this?

“Hey- hey Mari, we don’t have to if you don’t want… I-er saw you liked videogames; we could always do it about that if you want?” But Mari felt so disappointed in herself, she was being so accommodating to her, why, why for her? She didn’t deserve this.

“B-But Marilee’s so good at drawing, she can really really really draw. I know you can do it.” Piper enthusiastically cheered, she would’ve smiled but couldn’t, not yet, she just had to think through it.

What could she do?

“Piper, not now” Rosaniline slightly scolded, she never liked doing it honestly, but besides her Mother she had the trademark glare that told her to pack it in.

Unfortunately, Piper never did look at her while she was in such an energetic mood.

What could she do?

“Rosalee she’s amazing, she’s the best in the world. Don’t do it about stupid video games.” She tried persuading her Sister to see some sense, in the short time that she had known Marilee, she was pretty much enarmed with her, she found another Sister that needed a confidence boost.

What. Could. She. Do!?

“Piper!- Look, sometimes not everyone wants to show their skills to other people, and we have to respect that, ok?” She crouched down to her level, kids felt less intimidated when you weren’t so tall, besides, Piper didn’t mean anything by it, she was always told to follow her heart, and if she was proud of something, she should show it off for the whole world to see.

What could-

Wait?

Could someone really be so accommodating? Could it really be true? Could all of this be true?

“Aww… Ok Rosalee, sorry Marilee” Piper hugged Marinette’s leg, and even though it felt like she was getting told off, she knew she wasn’t in real trouble.

Or was it a persona?

“I’ll do it.”

If this was a plan, a plan to make her do all the work, then she’ll go along with it. It felt so mean, so immature, so senseless that she still wasn’t trusting her, but she didn’t want to turn Rosaniline away without any evidence, besides, if this was all a trick, then surely it was better this way, she would’ve foreseen it and everything would go back to normal, she’d go off to join the class while she’d be alone once more, maybe they’ll have passing glances and memories of what could’ve been but she wouldn’t leave her here open and out to be in such a vulnerable position.

Not just for her, but for both, she didn’t know what would happen after another heartbreak.

“Huh?”

“I- I don’t mind if we do it about fashion, I mean, only if you want to, I don’t mind teaching you about it, I-I even had some books stored just for this, so I guess its lucky right” A nervous laughter evolved as she looked at anywhere but her.

However, the cherry haired girl wasn’t as convinced.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I guess little Piper just convinced me.” The little girl fist pumped to herself before running along back to her books before the bluenette felt soft hands on her shoulders.

“As long as you want to as well, I… Wouldn’t want to force you or anything” Quick, she had to ease the tension.

“-Psst- Don’t worry so much Rosaniline, c’mon I’ll see where I put those books, also how far do you wanna go back, if we go too far, we might not be able to cover everything. But if we go to a few years back our presentation would just be too small. Maybe we can just go halfway. That reminds me maybe we could have a physical element, I could throw together some pieces of old works together and show them of as we talk- or” Her shoulders were gently grabbed again as she looked at the close proximity she was in, it made her blush just a tad more than she thought she ever could.

“Maybe we could discuss that, over something to eat?” She quickly looked down and remembered the food on the ground, no doubt cold now. She felt guilt come in before seeing her passionate smile.

“Sorry, I just saw how passionate you were about this, I couldn’t bear to stop you, but then I got worried if you’d run out of air, Eheh. Think we can heat the food up?” She nodded, maybe it might be better to eat downstairs after all, now that Marinette knew what topic she- they were doing, they could crack on and complete it earlier than the deadline.

She’d have to get Rosaniline’s phone number of course, just in case they needed to discuss other things but that could wait.

Of course, it could wait.

She was just so happy in that moment, she- she may have really wanted to try and be her friend.

And maybe-

No- she just wanted to continue to be near her, to hold her hand when she’s upset, to help her when she’s had a bad day.

To be… Closer to her, to that warmth.

… Was it selfish of her to want to be near that warmth for longer?

***

Night had fallen upon Paris, but the lone girl on her balcony didn’t mind at all.

Ever since that day, a part of her wished something else would happen.

No- she didn’t want the hero to be hurt again, that’s by far too sadistic to even think about… But she was really excited by all of those events, when she was able to get a breather, there was a rush of adrenaline throwing through her veins, and even if she did want something else to happen, she’d prefer to be out here just to see if she could get a glimpse of the hero again.

It had been a week since it happened, and Marinette could only guess she must have been resting from her… Fight? Was that the right word? Oh well, she must’ve been resting since she hadn’t heard anything about her from the news for a while, she could only hope her wound would heal by professionals instead of her shoddy work. But- she had to realise that she had to hope for the hero’s survival.

For Soliane Rin’s survival.

… She may have read a bit more into her- but it was only out of curiosity, she wasn’t going to gain another obsessive crush over someone famous again, nope, nada, she wasn’t going to fall for those really amazing silver eyes the press had made sure to call grey, but she was sure they were silver.

Wait, no it wasn’t like she looked at them for particularly long or anything, she definitely didn’t get lost in them, she saw a poster of them! Ah- this wasn’t helping. She needed to change the subject immediately!

Clang.

She jumped up instantly, her commissions book that was resting on her lap was now flying through the air! Oh no, she was going to lose everything, crap! Her designs!

A figure, however, flew up to catch them before landing in front of the startled girl.

“I believe these books were trying to plan their escape from you mi Belle” It was her; it really was her! She was-

“You’re alright” Her happiness took over her before she could even register that she had leapt into the arms of the hero of Paris.

She was going to regret this so much.

With her cheeks rosying so much, she jumped back until she fell back onto her chair, apology after apology escaping the girl not daring to look at her face.

‘How embarrassing, how inappropriate, how childish. Why did she have to make a fool out of herself now? In front of the new hero no less? Again!’

“There’s no need for any embarrassment, I was unaware I’d caused you such panic over my recovery, if I’d known you were worried, I would’ve visited a lot sooner.” Ah- she was always so formal with her choice of words. It was great, she was great- wait what?

“But I- didn’t realise you’d wish to see me after my blunder from last time.” That made her perk up, what… What was she talking about?

Soliane’s gaze seemed to be fixated on the ground as she looked so- so frustrated with herself. Why?

“To have failed on the first day as a hero, to have troubled a civilian with help. I can’t thank you enough to have woken you at such a godly hour just for my sake” She bowed her head forward as Marinette couldn’t help but try to make her stop.

“It’s nothing really, I mean I’m sure anyone else would help out a hero like you. I-I mean maybe not everyone else since there are some bad people but I’m sure most will. Not that you don’t need it, I mean you do- don’t I- I’m sorry I’m rambling again” Soliane Rin didn’t appear to hear her as she carried on with her tirade.

“But to not even know who it was that harmed me. I-I don’t deserve to have my title as a hero.” Why? Why was she saying this? She- no she couldn’t be serious.

But that look made it all the more real, she’d seen it so much. Every time she ever looked in the mirror after crying for so long, regret, disappointment, anything and everything negative flashed through her mind and she could tell, see everything, all of it.

And knew it broke her, would break her.

Marinette knew she didn’t have any powers.

She couldn’t shoot lasers from her eyes.

She couldn’t fly.

She couldn’t control objects through her mind.

But- how Mother always said she had a talent for one thing.

Empathy.

She could be so understanding when her mind was so calm, when she wasn’t worrying about what others were thinking of her, when she could see, truly see inside their heart, all of their feelings out on display, and helping them, by being there for them.

For knowing exactly what to say…

It- may not always work, but no superhero comes out of every battle unscathed.

“Please stop” She looked up, but it was still such a pitying look. She could see through her smile, but it felt as if she wasn’t even trying to hide it, like there was no use concealing it.

“You can’t keep blaming yourself for a mistake like that, it’s not fair to you- or to me. Yes, I was scared when I saw you injured, but I’m so glad that you’re here now. You’re still standing. You still want to continue even when you were hurt. I’ve seen just how strong you are, how confident you can be when the world tried to throw its worse at you.” She stepped closer to her, having gotten up from her fallen position.

“So please don’t give up for one mistake,”

She stepped closer…

“Don’t give up when I know you have the strength in you to persist.” She wrapped her arms around her again, and this time she wasn’t so embarrassed about doing it.

She was crying…

She tried to use those words for someone else.

It hadn’t worked… So, she had to believe in anything and everything for it to succeed now, for her.

“You risk your life every day, and yet you never ask for anything. I want to thank you for all that you’ve done, on behalf of Paris, no, the whole world. You’re a real hero Soliane Rin. Please don’t doubt that.” She hugged a bit tighter; she hadn’t meant to get so emotional on her, but maybe that emotion wasn’t just for her.

.

.

It was silent.

Too silent.

Marinette had to hold her breath in anticipation, did- did she go too far? Did she overstep her boundaries again? Did she-

“Ah I see. Thank you, I-I mean, I appreciate your gratitude Marinette” When she looked back, she could see her cheeks were red, she could see her silver eyes look back at her before seeing her own cheeks reddening as well- wait, she was so close! Again!

She jumped back again, not falling this time, thanking the heavens that she wasn’t making a fool out herself as much as usual.

“I must commend your stubbornness my dear. I- I hadn’t imagined you’d have a positive opinion of me after that, I must apologise for making such a rash assumption about you, and for- eh snapping me out of that. I’m thankful to have met such a kind and respectable hero like you.” She bowed her head again as Marinette had to comprehend what had just happened.

It felt awkward, Soliane Rin was blushing a lot, Marinette was blushing like crazy as well.

“Me a hero, what no way. You’re just joking, don’t tell me you hit your head too?” She waved her hands in front of her. She recalled how clumsy she was, how often she’d trip on the stairs to Collège or even when she dropped her tray of pastries on the floor, that one was particularly embarrassing.

However, she was too late to see that Soliane had stopped her smile as Marinette began to panic again.

“No! I didn’t mean hit your head I meant did you crack it- no check it- no I mean, how can I ever be a hero to anything, I’m just me, Marinette. I don’t have any superpowers or anything I’m just an ordinary girl ehehehe” She felt her hand taken by the hero again, her heart stopping for a moment before jumping to x2, she couldn’t believe she was holding her hand again.

“Just because I wear a mask and costume doesn’t make me a hero. It’s my ideals and thoughts for the people. Marinette, you may not have powers, or a hero name. But you can be a hero still. After all, All that is needed for the prevail of malevolence is that individuals concede defeat.” Marinette was shocked, she just- wow, that was cool. And… So sweet. To say that, about anyone, about her. Even if she didn’t fully believe it at first, she’d be sure to keep those words very close to her heart.

The bluenette smiled back, before they both looked over her balcony and over Paris, they share a moment just looking out, the silence was comforting to them as some time passed.

There was a question that may have crossed her mind at one point, she felt guilty for taking so much time out of her day- night- schedule? Oh well, she had to ask just one little thing.

Marinette fiddling with her fingers, she took a deep breath.

“S-So do you have to do a patrol or-” Soliane looked up surprised before checking something around her wrist, she laughed nervously before turning back.

“Huh- oh yes, unfortunately I won’t be able to stay longer, however it would be even more unbefitting of me to avoid my job any further” She wanted to deny what she said was true, but saw her giggle so slightly, knowing it was a small joke, she lightened up as Soliane Rin bows again and flies off from her balcony railings bidding her adieu.

With her hand resting where her heart was beating, faster than usual, faster then whenever she was late for class. Faster than-

Oh

Oh

Oh no.

No no no! Not again, how did she not realise it sooner?

How!?

This familiar feeling.

Why did it come back?

And why did she want it to stay!?

***

I hope you enjoyed it.

Anyway, I’m willing to take a bunch off prompts for Rosann and Mari on date nights/doing couple things, whether you want some added salt from the class is up to each requester, I may turn a few away if I either feel uncomfortable or simply not able to write it, these prompts will come out randomly, I have no structure to anything. To submit, I’ll allow for the idea to be within any time frame, i.e. when they first meet, to being friends, to being a couple. I do love angst although I’ll be unsure how to make it work when it should be a ton off fluff stuff. If you have any questions don’t feel afraid to ask, I might have to clarify some points. I’ll be ordering the prompts, and stating when they come in the main story, what you would’ve need to have read before, if it contained any spoilers for certain chapters and any trigger warnings, although you may need to state what might be triggering as sometimes, I too get confused on what I need to state, if anyone can do that then that’s alright.)

Even though I like a Saltinette, sometimes I still wanna see a different perspective of her, an anxious, guilt-ridden, cautious, mess like this version. I just think it’ll be interesting to basically rewrite Marinette’s character. Instead of this sassy overconfident one in most fanfic’s I’ve now changed the status quo. Haha.

And I believe I’ve taken a somewhat realistic approach to Marinette trying to trust someone else, I didn’t want to just rush into it. However, I do think it’s a bit different with Soliane Rin because she is a hero, and I think Marinette could trust her a lot easier than Rosaniline.

Also did you know that Majestia’s quote was a straight rip off of Edmund Burke’s?

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.

Yeah...

Cya next time.

Note: Please tell me if I should add anything else to the card, there will be one of these cards for all 15 chapters, however, because I have uni work all updates will be slower because I really need to focus on the uni stuff, then I might be able to upload quicker. They also may change in the future because I can never stop adding stuff.

[mrskurono]

i wanted to say something related with the thing about the plain repetitive fics earlier when the notification popped up but was busy and in a horrible humor 🥴🥴 so imma say it now

we as consumers (the ones who only read) are most at fault here i think bc the writers always ask and the ones with beautifully written 5k words almost beg for readers to interact/reblog so it spreads and gets to other people(i am at fault here too im a social anxiety ridden person) and because of this lack of interaction the "shitty" or plain or whatever gets more interactions... on other side there are also lazy ass people that don't wanna read 5k words (their loss lol) and stick with the plain ooc shitty cookie cutter stories, the ones who get the spotlight unfortunately...

sorry for the long ass rant, got lost in the middle and wrote it with a baby crying and screaming and laughing by my side lol, hope ur having a good day/evening and taking care of you and your baby💕💕

For the five hundred and fifty two years I've been on this site I will say there was a definitive switch between supporting content creators (of any media) and now expecting things to be spoon fed them in the simplest way without feeling an obligation to return the favor with even the meager of feedback. I wouldn't say it went down hill when Tumblr did it's purge bc honestly it was going downhill before that. It was like one month people were excited to share their hyperfixations and fandoms. And now no one wants to do anything bc of the cringe worthy puritan culture that has swept through most social medias. This focus on likes only, popularity and being a god send famous person is just so fucking weird to me. Anymore anyone is so afraid to even entertain the idea that they would consume something "unsanitary" and then get in trouble for it that it's reached its way to the creators. Many have stopped bc of hate. Many have stopped for fear of hate. Just as many have stopped bc its just not worth it anymore. It's frankly sad bc now "trendy" things are the only thing that sells. Tik tok reaction crap, daddy kinks, uwu sub babies, etc. This very tiny box of what's "ok" has doubled down on so many people just straight up quitting. These things that have been deemed "acceptable" while other things get demonized.

And this goes for non sexual items too. Wanna write best friends au? Unrealistic, bull crap, "never happens". But twelve dozen people wanna write a mafia au? Great, brilliant, "totally plausible". A lot of people complain about the sexual factors of fandoms but honestly fluff is just as looked down on unless it's exactly how this mass decided it to be. It use to be in fandoms you could find so much. Oh my god there was so so so much you could find. If you thought of it, you could find it. But now its the same idea regurgitated fifty times. I get people enjoying what they enjoy (I for one enjoy friendships and mutual pining and such) but the fact that everything else gets shoved to the side bc the majority doesn't "want it" and then others are "too afraid" to engage frankly means more and more writers are going to leave and not come back. And it's sad really bc so many writers are wonderful and great but no one wants to support them. I understand being anxiety riddled. I didn't start posting even online half a decade after I started writing. I kept everything on a note app and interacted with no one when I did get brave enough to post online in the small fandoms I was in. So the anxiety thing I get but at some point you have to decide if it's worth more to lurk and watch your content creators and friends leave. Or to support them and others.

Make entirely new blog. Give no defining traits to yourself. Don't even have to talk to anyone if you don't want to. But reblogging (with proper tags) means a million different things to artists of all kind. You don't even have to leave a comment. Simply reblogging something and making sure it can be spread through proper tags in the fandom means the world to creators and it's so small but keeps us going. I do it here on my blog all the time. I'm not an avid reader but I adore art and reblog the crap out of characters I might not even like. Just so that artist knows "hey, someone saw this and they want more people to see it bc its amazing"

This isn't meant to be mean spirited or a lecture but frankly Tumblr is going to loose a lot of its media and its sad to watch it go down the drains. But on the brightside ao3 is still wonderful and a heavenly place to post fics! The traffic is wonderful and to any fic writers who haven't signed up for it I really suggest it. All the fandoms I've posted in so far have been really engaging and lots of people even comment which is just such a serotonin boost. If you haven't started cross posting on ao3 I highly suggest it

[touchstarvedsam]

hi. i am sending this on anon because i want to talk and not to bring anon hate on myself immediately. i am literally from the other side of the fandom, i have no idea how your post ended up on my dash. but i am literally curious, so i want to ask you a couple of questions, you obviously don't have to answer at all, your choice. 1/

"they complain about misogyny and then go and refer to Sam’s wife as a walking uterus." isn't it an issue though? she is never introduced, we aren't even shown her face. this is a new character in a 15 year old show, introduced only for the purpose of being The Mother to the protagonist child. what they did is misogynistic enough, she has no name, no face - us laughing about it is not misogynistic because we are laughing about what they did which is insane. that is how i see it. they introduce2/

"Pay attention when Dean blatantly says “I don’t swing that way,”" and the rest of what you said in that paragraph ok i know i am on anon but are you. are you sure that when someone says this. this is always true. i know numerous peoplei, i am one of those people myself who were in such denial and told so many lies about themselves when it comes to sexuality and sorry but Dean makes an impression of some who would be in denial about many things but okay this is in headcanon territory 4/

this is in headcanon territory and everyone can have their own headcanon so why do you have such problem with people headcanoning him as bi "And besides that... the way they portray Dean in fics? They feminize the everliving fuck out of him, to the point that the character they’re writing isn’t even Dean. Like, in any way, shape, or form. "this is one of the things i can actually 100% agree with because Dean in fics is often feminized yes, it is usually ooc, yes, though if we are talking 5/

okay :* i know i didn't click anon on one of them because i am not used to sending anons but i did explain why i wanted them on anon in the first place - i have enough anon hate on the daily basis. i am counting on you to answer me or just leave it but still i think my asks weren't hateful. i am genuinely curious. and how did they ended up on my dash is a mystery for both of us

So, tumblr ate at least TWO of your asks, which tumblr does if you send too many sometimes. I’m just curious why it gave you a character limit? Tumblr lets me post long asks now and separate them by paragraphs, lol. But anyway. Ask number 3 and whatever is after ask number 5 is missing. But I’ll go with what I’ve got.

The one marked as number 5 is the one that bothered me first because I actually covered it in my post to which you’re referring.

Your question: this is in headcanon territory and everyone can have their own headcanon so why do you have such problem with people headcanoning him as bi

What my post said, a direct quote so you don’t think I’m cursing at you specifically: Like, whatever, you can headcanon a character whatever way you want. Write them however the fuck you want in fanfiction. But for the love of god, respect the actual fucking canon.

My point was Dean is straight in canon and people should respect that instead of forcing their headcanons down everyone’s throats. I headcanon Sam as demisexual. But is he in the show? No, he’s canonically straight. Does that sway my headcanons and keep me from enjoying the show the way I want? No. Do I shout that to anyone that will listen and try to get them to share my beliefs? No. That is the difference between canon and headcanon, and respectful fans and disrespectful fans. Too many people refuse to acknowledge that Dean is canonically straight because of the color of a flannel he wore, or strobe lights he’s standing in front of a bar, or the fact that a diner was out of pie and he had to eat a slice of cake instead. I am not kidding, those are reasons people have considered him bi. That is harmful to actual bisexual people like myself.

Now, in response to ask number 4: Dean is comfortable in his sexuality. If he was bi and was closeted, or hating himself for being bi, or in denial about it, do you think he would be so comfortable around gay people? He would most likely be repressing his sexuality so hard that he would come off as standoffish or lashing out at gay people because they are what he dislikes about himself. He wouldn’t be as comfortable as he was with the gay characters he did spend time with. He’s not hiding anything. He’s completely open. His dating profile says Interested In: Women, not Men and Women. If they wanted Dean to be bi, or give a nod to it, they would have said it in that tiny scene. Supernatural hasn’t queerbaited anyone, so the majority of the audience didn’t even see a possibility for Dean to be bisexual, because there wasn’t any subtext for it.

Ask number 2 (I don’t know why I’m going backwards, I’m a whole mess):

While I didn’t think the blurry wife was the best idea, I liked that Jared said that the intention was for Sam’s partner to be whoever we want them to be. They left it open because it wasn’t about Sam starting a family without Dean; it was about Sam’s half-life after he lost his most important person, and the buildup to when they would finally meet again. So they left the blurry person open to interpretation, just that they were not Eileen. You can laugh about it all you want, but calling the person a walking uterus is disgusting as fuck. Supernatural as a whole has been a pretty misogynistic show sometimes, not just to women, but to Sam who they have woman-coded throughout the show. So.

That’s my take. I hope I was respectful enough for you. Like I said, I don’t care what you headcanon, but when a character, the actor, and the creators specifically state that the character is straight, I suggest you pay attention to that. Don’t let it ruin your experience or your headcanons because that ruins all the fun, but also don’t disrespect the writers by denying what they have stated.

Have a nice night.

[fandom-star]

Writer’s Tag

@its-all-ineffable tagged me to do this, but it’s a long one so I’m doing it in a different post! Thank you very much! I love doing these so much!

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How many works do you have on AO3?

164 (possibly 165 by the weekend if I post the Witcher one I finished the other day)

What's your total AO3 word count?

181468

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

It’s Okay (Merlin: Merthur) - 569 Kudos Pulchra (Night At The Museum: Jedtavius) [NSFW] - 286 Kudos A Father’s Wisdom (Merlin: Merthur: Uther-centric) - 270 Kudos Crush (MCU Spider-Man: PeterNed) - 262 Kudos Comfort Blankets For Sleepy Gods (MCU Loki Series: Lokius) - 245

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Sometimes. I try to if I’m not in a non-social mood. Mostly, if I start off on my page before reading any fic and see that I have something in my inbox and it turns out to be a comment on my fic, then I’m more likely to reply to it. Idk why it works like that. Otherwise, it’s kinda touch and go whether or not I’ll reply to something, you’ve got a 50/50 chance, but I always read and appreciate every one that I get.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

*Looks at my abundance of angst fics* There’s... a surprising amount of angst without happy endings in my repertoire. Um. I’ll give you three that I vividly remember. (All of these are Star Trek and Spones) Written In The Stars - This is one of my really early works, and was gonna have a sequel that made it have a less angsty ending, but I could never get into the rhythm of writing it. I won’t spoil it, but this is probably the only fic I’ve written where Sarek is a straight-up dick. Battlefield - As the title suggests, there’s war with no real context. And major character death. It’s sad. I genuinely made people cry with this. I am both proud and apologetic of that. Unreal - This is probably one of my more complex concepts, and I’m really proud of it. Features ooc Spock with contextual reasons I won’t spoil, defensive/protective McCoy and major character death of a sort.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending

This is kind of difficult, bc while I have excessively written angsty endings (see: above answer) I do usually write happy endings, and I can’t remember all 160 fic endings left over, and even then it’s difficult to rank them by happiest. I like Nutcase {Murdoch Mysteries: Watts-centric) a lot, oh and also Blame It On Me (Star Trek Pricard: Hughnor) which is angst with a happy ending (and has amazing art accompanying it). There are many others with happy endings, but like I said I have no idea how to rank them by “happiest”.

Do you write crossovers? If so, What is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I don’t really, but I have written one as a request that I really really enjoyed. A Good Day is ThorBruce and is set in the DS9 era of Star Trek, in which Thor is a captain and Bruce is his chief science officer. It’s really adorable and features sleepy, over-worked Bruce and a very characteristically happy Thor.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, I don’t think so, unless you count unsolicited advice I felt I couldn’t turn down on ff.net when I was struggling to write Uhura. I’m kind of surprised I haven’t tbh (not that I’m complaining) since I do write for some very popular fandoms and ships (although, conversely, also some very niche fandoms and ships).

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I write it but have only ever posted it thee, four times if you count the exploratory one I posted under a pseudonym that wasn’t really that smutty. I’m hoping to get the confidence up to post some of what I’ve written tho, bc I do really like hat I’ve managed to do with some of it.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I’m aware.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, I have! A lovely person found my fic 1967, which is probably one of my favourite Spones fics I’ve written, based around the UK’s decriminalisation (well, partial) of homosexuality, and traslated it into Hungarian here. I’ve not been able to check it out, due to not knowing a thing in the language (tho I could probably ask my friend to) but the translator seemed really lovely, so I trust them to have done a good job.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not something I posted, but before I even started posting fanfic, me and my best friend really randomly started writing a Star Trek TNG x Star Wars crossover whenever they were at my house. We gave up on it after about a year and never wrote much for it, but it was... it was something.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

This changes all the time with my hyperfixations! One that will always be in my heart is obviously Spones, my og ship and within my special interest. Currently I’m obsessed with The Witcher so I’ve got Geraskier on the mind but who knows when that might change!

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

In terms of fanfic I don’t really have any that I don’t think I’ll ever finish. I have an original script that I started writing months ago but only got about three scenes into and haven’t touched since bc I don’t actually have a plot for it.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue; Is situations one? That sounds like a good and fancy way of saying AUs; Finding synonyms should be one, that’s like half my search history

What are your writing weaknesses?

Description; Despite my talent of finding synonyms I feel like I do repeat words a lot; Planning and outlining, I just don’t do it - it works for me tho.

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

I’m pretty sure the only times I’ve really done it is for Jedtavius (having Oct speak in Latin occasionally) and I might have done it once or twice with Spock speaking Vulcan, both times it’s mostly terms of endearment or Oct wanting to be romantic. Idk, I don’t really care about reading dialogue in other languages as long as there’s a translation somewhere in the work or I can easily pick it up or search it. Just do whatever, it’s your writing. As long as you do it well and it makes contextual sense, I don’t really care.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Unposted: Star Trek: The Next Gen Posted: Sherlock (I actually recently reread my first ever posted fic, it’s a long haul (just over 45k), but if anyone ever wants to see a work where my writing visibly improves lemme know and I’ll email the pdf to you)

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Why would you do this to me??? I love most of my fics!!! I’m just gonna link a few here cause I’ve been doing this for an hour now and it would definitely take me an hour to choose just one! The Relationship Series - modern AU, autistic Spock (written by a self-projecting autistic writer), there’s angst spattered about but is especially prominent in part 6, I just really love this series Promises You Can’t Keep - Loki spoilers, I love this bc it’s based on “what if my finale theory was right instead of being debunked three minutes into the episode”, definitely angst with a hopeful ending I love all of my Charite At War fics, but I’m gonna link my 20 years post-canon fic Grow Old With Me and my modern AU You Give Me Your Light - both have some heavy topics (post-canon is set in 1960s East Germany, modern AU topics are tagged) but I adore both with my entire heart You’ll Never Burn - Merlin/Merthur, again kinda heavy (not as heavy as the Charite ones in my opinion) but short and everything is tagged I love all of my Babylon 5 fics but Secret Rendezvous will always have a special place in my heart. It’s very sweet and essentially follows Vir and Lennier trying to navigate coming out about their relationship to their ambassadors I also recommend all the of the fics I’ve already linked in the post ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now for the hard part - tagging!

@esperata @tallysgreatestfan @iwritesometimes @marlinspirkhall and any other writer mutuals I’ve likely forgotten but I’ve already spent WAY too long writing this post asfdhdskjdgha So I apologise, but if you wanna do it, absolutely go for it, this was so much fun and really made me realise how much I’ve achieved in 4.5 years.

[bellamyblake]

so I saw some posts in the bellarke tag (from a few bellarke) saying how season 6 bellarke was terrible and that Bellamy was out of character and would never do the things he did for Clarke that season.. and that he was bland, and the cpr scene could’ve been any sappy couple, but like ?? I loved season 6, and I thought Bellamy was in character (as opposed to season 5 where they barely interacted and had any big emotional talks after 6 years of thinking she’s dead and ugh s5 to me felt the least like them) i mean to me him doing anything for her seems like something Bellamy would do? Look at the all past seasons and all the sacrifices and thing he did for her and how protective he was over her for any little thing! I feel like Bellamy leaving everyone to save clarke would be something that would happen? And him basically in tears trying to save her as she’s dying in front of him pleading that he needs her seems in character and something they would do and it felt special and sweet to me :/ how was Bellamy bland for doing the most he can to save someone he loves?? Idk, s6 was one of my favorites for how actually romantic it was and it bums me out hearing some bellarkes hating it. How do you feel about it? Do most of the fandom think it’s ooc and Bellamy’s bland?

I think the most important fact to begin with here would be that you gotta understand something that was also a little hard for me to understand at first but that I learned fast when I got into the fandom and that is that-

Nobody judges Bellamy Blake more than his own fandom.

Literally.

I’m even gonna be as brave as to say that the pinapples might not even know what to put on his shoulders besides season 3 to blame him for every mistake but we can. We absolutely can say the worst things about him and call him anything.

You know back when I got in the fandom that was season 3 and that was the WORST time to join but haha, silly cute lil me, I knew of so many blogs and Bellamy and Bellarke fans who HATED Bellamy and refused to understand his actions which yes though questionable, were at least supposed to be put under the microscope and understood.

I knew people who hated season 2 Bellamy too which was such a surprise to me, those were mostly original season 1 fans who said that he was *too  herioc* in season 2 and it *doesn’t fit his character*.

So after that, like season 3 and everything (and after Bob explained how much was missed on and not told and the better part of the season which made some fans show some mercy towards his character), I decided myself that I’ll always step back, think over everything that happens to him with as clear of a head as I can and decide for myself. 

I kept doing it to the end which is also why I am the only one in the fandom who didn’t call him ooc in s7. But THAT is another subject.

I think what I mean here is that nobody and I believe that wholeheartedly is more rude or more brutal to Bellamy Blake than we are. I often felt like we as a fandom hated him more than any anti can and it broke my heart. Most of all what broke my heart was the blatant refusal to understand him or his actions.

I think after season 1 people just had this image of the bad boy rebel king with soft heart who lets Clarke and the 100 in and that was it and that still sells most to these days in fics and amongst the fandom. 

That’s literally where they stopped and they refused to add anything else to his multilayered character in their heads.

ANYWAY-

You asked about season 6 and I LOVE season 6 despite most bellarkers not being fans of it. I think here it comes again a lot to fandom and how the said old gen bellarkers refused to like season 6 bellarke because apparently it wasn’t written as well, the dialogue was bad, they kept recycling stuff, I’ve seen this over and over and over again but for me, personally season 6 was a whole ass trip from beginning to end that is just that-

a love story.

His love story to Clarke.

I think through it he manages to achieve in his heart what he never got to do for her in season 4 and season 5. I have had a few friends at the time who thankfully felt the same way and we discussed the fact that-

season six is filled with all the romantic tropes that we as bellarke writers (and old gen bellarke) KEEP WRITING but complain that we never actually had

WHICH WE DO????

but somehow it is not good enough for them. 

So to answer your quesiton, no, not all people in the fandom thought it was bad, but I feel like again as before with just bellamy and season 3 there was this PUSH as if on purpose, to hate this, to condemn it, to call it *not the same*. I understand what they say that yes they are not entirely the same people and here comes my next point-

THEY ARE NOT!

and newsflash-

THAT IS FINE.

I think a majority of the people refused to accept the fact that they grow as characters and they have layers added to them just as the story grew and went from one planet to another. I think not everyone can accept that and that is fine, I have no problem with that I just wish it wasn’t just so blatantly hated.

I personally think that the CPR scene is where they PEAKED in all aspects. THIS is the most they’ve been truly romantic I believe that and that it is actually expressed in the DESPERATION with which he saves her and her waking up and throwing herself in his arms. Also let’s not forget his lips touching hers which for us is like basically sex.

And after that scene came out I saw a lot of hate and I was so surprised, mainly on twitter from old bellarkers, fic writers who said LOL what a dumb scene, haha he can’t do CPR right and i was like WHAT-

WHAT-

WHAT-

COME AGAIN?

You were okay when she peckered his cheek for 0,02 secs and left him all the fuck alone in season 2 to deal with EVERYTHING and the kids but this is-

BAD FOR YOU?

HIm reccassitating her and begging her and crying and his own effing sister seeing his break down and then managing to get to her, to make her to pull through and her coming back and throwing herself in his arms IS BAD?

I mean I literally died there and it is still my favorite moment.

I know nobody would agree with this but I still think this is the best one. The hugs were great but at some point how many hugs can you have?

This was more. This was so much more and I loved it.

I think also there is something else when people call some scenes blind and that is that Bob was in a lot of pain filming that because of his injury. He literally couldn’t walk and had to redo some scenes from the beginning of the season back in the end when he was a little bit better so it is clear that it is very hard for him to do this but he still does his best imo and by the time the CPR scene comes he clearly is much better and it shows in his acting too (which is also why i personally love his acting in s7 it shows so much how when an actor takes care of themselves, takes a step back, recovers and comes back he literally crushes it but AGAIN i am a lone wolf in that aspect)

Anyway, here is my advice:

1.Stay out of the tags;

2. Find people who you enjoy seeing on your dash to follow and who do fit your interests in terms of the show.

3.Don’t read ppl’s opinions, frankly, don’t listen to anyone, not even me in that ask if it doesn’t sit right with you. Instead find your own thoughts and emotions. 

When I first got in the fandom there was so much meta and meta blogs and you dk the hate I saw in our fandom when it came to bellamy or the wrong discorse about his actions so I just unfollowed them all and did my own thinking. 

That’s what i advise you to do!

Thank you for your question, sorry for the length!

[takaraphoenix]

Hello! 💙 First, thank you so much for the advise :) It still won't be my main focus, but you are right, this is an easier way to write smut.

Second, for the ask game:

😐📥🏅😈💻 (it's hard to choose between the questions, but I leave the remaining for the others ;))

You're welcome, I'm glad it helped, even if just a bit. ;)

And thanks for playing! ^-^

😐 What embarrasses you most about your own writing?

Okay, so, quite frankly, at this point, nothing. I am immune to embarrassment about my writing.

Being embarrassed was why I hoarded my fics on my laptop and didn't post them. And then I did and there were people who genuinely liked it and since then, I've elected to focus on that side of things.

There are people who genuinely enjoy my writing, mistakes and imperfections and all. And I enjoy my writing, I mean that is why I write because I enjoy doing it. So, I don't see the point in being embarrassed about it.

📥 What is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

That is actually a constantly changing thing. Depends on what fic I am currently most obsessed over and enjoy writing the most, I mean, obviously. While I am in the middle of writing an ongoing project, getting comments is the best, duh, so it changes depending on what stories I am currently working on (that is, obviously, not to say that I don't like getting comments on closed fics ;D).

So, right now that'd be a tie between Keeping Up With the Scoobies and my Earth-304d series. They're both bigger projects and also more... out there. I mean, one's my first venture into BtVS and a huge rewrite project, the other is literally me overhauling the DC universe and creating my entire own world with lore for all my favorite heroes, I have multiple charts for that one to keep the timeline straight. These are both huge passion projects for me, where I am highlighting two of my biggest OTPs for the first time respectively.

And receiving enthusiastic comments about something that's a real passion project just always gets me. I mean, when you're ten years into writing, many fics are fun experiments or just new AU takes or different spins on old tropes, but finding something you really plan out in great detail and where you really have to construct things at length and put a lot of work in because it's the first time you're doing something like that? I genuinely haven't felt that way since I wrote Chasing Fireflies and to have people I can share the enthusiasm I have for this with is amazing.

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

Honestly, I feel like if there is something I enjoy doing - which means I will be doing it a lot - and someone hates then maybe... they should stop reading? Because then you're not the intended audience, you're not meant to be the reader for this if the thing I write is something you hate?

Like, one person came into my comment section when I started Legacy of the Big Three and complained if I'm not growing tired of "always" having Percy not be in the know.

And, quite frankly, no I don't. Because whether I had him not know that he's a merman, or not know that he's an alien, or now not know that his parents are two of the world's greatest superheroes... the stories couldn't be more different? The secrets entail entirely different genres and storylines.

Also, I take the "and Percy didn't know growing up" literally from canon. Like, that's the whole shtick, Percy is twelve and thrust into this world and has to discover it. I like keeping structures from canon when I write an AU.

If that seems repetitive, feel free to not read the story, even though superheroes are not the same as merpeople or aliens.

I do feel like I'm pretty up-front about what to expect, I mean heck I always diligently tag all the kinks or sex-constellations too, all the major tropes and things I think people might want to seek out or avoid and I try my best to make my summaries reflect the story.

Like, I'm aware that many in the PJO fandom are probably not keen on the Jason and Piper as siblings angle that I'm really enjoying these days because I like the idea of Tristan/Beryl working off them both being actors and thus sober!Beryl and Jason with a happy childhood. But it's a big canon ship and I'd guess those who ship it don't really like reading about them as siblings, but that's why I specifically include a tag saying they're step-siblings in the fic at hand and from thereon out, it's really up to the reader to decide whether they hate that element more than they want to read the fic itself.

That's the point in general. I write what I like and if it's not what someone likes, then no one is forcing them to actually read the story. I don't care if there are hypothetical people who hate it, I don't write for them, they can go and find other writers who do write what they love.

💻 Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

The deepest dive might be currently for my Earth-304d project, because I'm actually reading comics to get a better grasp on some of the characters that I have only met on a very surface level but would like to include, I've also been diving into wikis for background information on the characters, including ages in the Arrowverse to make my timeline work out and see how the characters fit together.

I don't want to go full OoC Elseworlds on this, I do want them to be the beloved characters, just give the world around them a different spin.

But I'm generally not big on doing actual research, like... writing a historic AU and researching real historic facts and such? I'm not doing homework for my hobby, that sounds disturbing.

Fanfic Ask Game

[kareofbears]

bullets 1, 2, 4, 8 and 9 would u kindly bear?

YOOOOO V!!!!! howdy!!! kinda crazy that you wanna hear me keep yelling about things but i am SO not complaining (honestly my beta is so tired of hearing me talk about these things lmfao). not to mention i love this specific ask post so im like, salivating. i’m assuming the same ask since i havent reblogged a numbered ask game list yet? and im also going to assume that i should just go in deeper about 8 and 9 since i answered that one already but hey, no problem i got a lot to say about dialogue.

1. What’s something you’ve written that you know is OOC and you just don’t care?

first though, i wanna talk about ryuji (story of my life). i like to write him as someone who’s actually really smart when it comes to people, and he knows how to work with them. i like to write him as someone who’s sensitive who has extremely high E.Q. 

cool, and now it’s sumire time. 

look. writing sumire, you have to make her at least somewhat ooc because she ain’t got much going on in canon!!!! if i write her exactly as she is in canon it would be like speaking to a cardboard cutout--you’re not gonna get much out of it. she’s written too blandly for her to be interesting, but she has these tiny aspects ingame where she’s actually quite complex. she’s selfish, actually. she’s an outsider, even in the third-semester. i think she’s quite conniving, and she’s not as naive about the world as people might think she is. but all of these are just hints and the game doesn’t do anything with it!!!! i have my problems with sumire (a lot of them) but she truly doesn’t deserve the hate she gets--she doesn’t deserve hate, she deserves criticism. that’s why ive been writing her quite a bit lately, i wanna breathe live to her in a way atlus didn’t. 

2. What’s the most overrated thing you’ve written?

ugh. it absolutely has to be this fic called “Visiting” i wrote for the marvel fandom. i won’t link it because i think its really cringey and self-indulgent, but it’s on my ao3. it got pretty big for some reason, but it’s so...blegh!!!! i hate remembering i what i wrote in it!!!! another one is probably my fic called ergo, eraserhead which i will link because im quite proud of it still. on the flip side, i dont think any of my persona 5 fics will ever get as big as these two fics, and i’m so relieved by that. 

4.Something a commenter did point out that you wish they hadn’t.

oof...someone pointed out a flaw in the plot. not technically mean or anything, like they were quite nice about it, but i remember being devastated. i was on the skytrain platform when it happened and i was just so sad for no reason lmfao 

8.Something you love to see in dialogue.

hmmmmmmm i love to see interesting dialogue. very vague, i know. i like it when the author has obviously taken time to think about the dialogue, maybe even going as far as to say it out loud to make sure that the flow is smooth. i like dialogue that does more than one thing--instead of having boring dialogue that’s obviously just there to ensure that the viewer can understand the plot (i’m looking at you, star wars prequel trilogy), it also serves to help the viewer understand who these people are and what their dynamic is with their group. dialogue is really really hard to write, and that’s why good dialogue is something that should absolutely be praised.

9. What’s your fandom’s most overused trope?

alright if you want me to bring up soft!goro i guess i’ll do it (sike ive always wanted an excuse to yell about fandom akechi). obvious disclaimer: yes i know fandom is the space where people are allowed to interpret what they want with whatever character they choose, but this is my overly long persona 5 post, and if i’m asked to complain i’m going to complain. 

i talked more about it in this post, but i’ll say the gist: every character has a fundamental value that i believe you should never compromise on, because if you change it or get rid of that value, you are no longer writing that character. you’re allowed to change whatever else, but that value should not be changed. an example is akira’s love for his friends: you change that, you’re not writing akira anymore. you change haru’s motivation for kindness in the face of adversity, that ain’t haru anymore. but these are just my examples--different authors can have different fundamental values for different characters. 

so back on soft!goro, my fundamental value for akechi is his cynicism. he will always always assume the worst in the world, even if he’s finally moved on from what happened to him. even if he finds people to love who love him back, even if he escaped to another country where knows his name and he doesn’t have to hold up any appearances anymore, i believe that that cycnism will always be a a part of him, for better or for worse. so soft!goro is an interesting concept, because it reminds me something very specific: it reminds of the end of p5r bad ending where the bad reality prevails and akechi turns into someone unrecognizable. because...that’s what soft!goro is. 

soft!goro is akechi without the cycnicism--you take that cycnicism away, and you’re not writing akechi anymore. you’re just writing some random guy at this point. and no, it’s not because i don’t want him to be happy--if anything, i have so many ideas of a grown up akesumi fic that i’d love to write. no, it’s because i think even in the far future, he will still have this core belief. it’s an unshakeable fact about akechi. it’s what made him turn into who he is, it’s what led him to commit attrocities, it’s the reason why he died. that cycnicism is engraved in akechi, no matter therapy he may get, or whatever love interest he has, you can’t get rid of that pessimistic outlook that he has. 

of course, there’s exceptions to every rule. for example, i have an idea of wriitng an akesumi fic post akechi’s first therapy session. but i’m just saying that as an overall factor: to get rid of akechi, is to murder this complex character for someone generic. 

[youknowmymethods]

Content Creator Interview #5

Welcome back again folks! This week in our fifth interview @vermofftiss chats to @mizjoely about her love of lists, her fantasy season five finale, and reveals the truth about who really writes her stories...

Hi, @mizjoely here, chatting with @vermofftiss about my sherlolly writing and fandom experiences, and answering some questions submitted by a few other folks. I’ve been involved in fandom in one way or another since the early 1980s, which is also when I started writing fanfiction - for classic Doctor Who and Star Trek in its various incarnations.

@vermofftiss here, putting forward the aforementioned questions. I’ll also be trying to weasel some advice out of @mizjoely that I can use for my own writing, which has been a casual ongoing thing since I published my first sherlolly fic in 2014.

Vermofftiss: I think our first encounter was in the Sherlollychat in the fall of 2014, around the time I got onto AO3. Which means series 3 was five years ago. How does it feel knowing that series 4 was already two years ago? What’s changed in the time since it aired?

Mizjoely: Oh, I miss the sherlollychat, or at least I did until Channy came up with the discord version! It’s hard to fathom that so much time has passed since I joined the fandom! (I became active on tumblr in November 2013 after discovering Sherlolly earlier that same year, btw.) Series 3 was five years ago. Series 4 was two years ago. Crazy!

As for what’s changed since then, I’d have to say one positive thing is that the fandom wank has calmed way the hell down since S4…. Another change that I’ve seen is probably common to all fandoms over time - new writers and content creators have joined the fandom while (sadly) many others have moved on to other fandoms. Of course, that’s to be expected when your show is essentially over, but it’s still kind of sad to lose folks completely to other fandoms.

V: Which series was your favourite to play with as a writer? When did you really get into writing Sherlolly?

M: I would have to say Series 4 has definitely been a great series to write for - so much angst! The I love you! Mary Watson’s very sad death, Rosie Watson becoming a character, Mrs. Hudson showing us what a badass she is, and of course Eurus Holmes entering the picture. We might not have gotten as much Molly Hooper as we wanted, but the scenes we did get with her were tremendous and gave so much inspiration to me and many other writers.

I really got into Sherlolly as a ship after seeing TRF, as I’m sure is true with many folks - especially the “what do you need” scene. And it was so much fun to dive into the possibilities of life after Sherlock’s ‘death’ between Series 2 and 3, I consider that a real golden age of Sherlolly writing. My first published Sherlock/Sherlolly fic was “Conversations With A Dead Detective”, set Post Reichenbach, which according to fanfiction.net I published on 04/11/13 (so I’m nearly at my five year Sherlolly- versary, woo hoo!).

A quick look at my spreadsheet (don’t judge me, I love my lists) shows that I wrote or at least started 37 fics that year (one of which I’m still working on, yikes! - The World As We Know It, a vamp!lock fic). I’m currently sitting at almost 500 fics for Sherlolly, which still amazes me, that I could be that inspired by a pair of fictional characters! (For comparison, my second most prolific fandom is Doctor Who, for whom I wrote a total of 25 stories over a period of 20 years. And of those 25, only about a dozen were for my main ship, Five/Tegan).

V: A couple of questions from @ohaine - 

1) Based on the sheer volume of your work, I have this theory that you’re actually some sort of artistic collective rather than just one person, please tell me I’m right!

M: You have discovered my secret: I'm actually four raccoons in a trenchcoat! Seriously though, until I was bitten by the Sherlolly bug, my output was much, much lower, even though I've been writing fanfics since the early 1980s. For example, I love the Zutara ship for Avatar: Last Airbender, but I only wrote three fics for that. I wrote about 25 fics for Doctor Who, and about the same amount for the various Star Treks (not including Khanolly). Nothing set my writing muse afire like Sherlolly, and I doubt anything ever will again.

and, 2) You write a lot of AUs, and I’m wondering what inspires them?

M: Considering that I started off as a strictly Canon Universe/Canon Compliant writer in all of my other fandoms, it still seems funny to me how much I enjoy writing and reading AUs now. I started reading them after finally running out of canon compliant fics to read and discovering how much fun it was to transplant the characters into a different universe. And that, of course, made me think about what sort of AUs I could fit Molly and Sherlock into.

In fact, the very first BBC Sherlock story I started to write (never finished or posted) was an AU because I was nervous about trying to write Sherlock and figured no one would complain too much about him being OOC if it was a fantasy setting. (I ended up taking the plunge on a canon universe post Reichenbach fic and posted that and a lot of other canon universe fics before returning to AUs.)

Wait, that doesn't answer the question! What inspires them? The same things that inspire all my writing: wanting to read a specific kind of fic and not being able to find it; fics that other authors have written that make me itch to put my own spin on the idea; dreams; books I've read or movies or TV shows I've watched...inspiration is everywhere when you really, really, really love a ship. (Gawd that's cheesy but it's true - no love, no writing fanfic, period end of paragraph.)

V: This past spring I finally got the nerve to start working on my first proper AU (not CC, CU, or UA) after sitting on the idea for about 3 years. Have you ever had to wait to be “ready” to start working on a concept? How much do you need to know about a project to get going on it?

M: I have absolutely had to wait to be ready to start working on a concept. My very first attempt at a Sherlolly fic (never finished or published) was going to be an AU because I was so intimidated by the idea of writing Sherlock Holmes in the canon universe set up by Moffat & Gatiss. I was terrified I wouldn’t get his voice right, that he would be too OOC for folks, that I wouldn’t be able to make him clever enough or that I’d mess things up a dozen different ways. So I started writing the AU instead, and in doing so (over a course of several months), I finally realized that no, I wanted to start off in the canon universe. Just trying to write him at all, in any setting, made me a little less intimidated by him. But I might never have written anything if I hadn’t started that abandoned AU. (And I look forward to seeing your AU when you’re ready to post it!)

V: Does reader feedback ever impact the plots of your stories or the building of your AUs?

M: It absolutely can, especially when someone leaves a comment that makes me think about my story in a different light. I won’t go so far as to say comments have caused me to redo anything on a larger scale (such as change the ending) but certainly I’ve thrown things into the fic or expanded on ideas expressed in a comment to make the story that much richer.

That’s one of the best things about being active in fandom - the interactions between readers and writers. Of course, the reverse can also be true - I remember needing a LOT of fan-friend coddling when some folks were unhappy with the ending of my story ‘Abandoned’ (i.e., my Molly let my Sherlock get off too easily). But you have to have thick skin to be a creator, and remember that not everyone likes the same things. And you also have to be able to say yes, I could have done this better, or if I had to do it over I’d do it differently. It’s all part of the creative process.

V: Are there any scenes or aspects that were cut from a story that you regretted leaving out at the end?

M: Not really. Most things that I cut have been vetted by my betas (shout-out to ALL betas for being willing to help you make your story better!) and jettisoning those things has always made my stories better. (Plus I keep a folder of scraps that got cut and periodically review those scraps to see if I might be able to salvage them.)

V: On top of being one of the better-known Sherlolly writers in the tag, you’re also the single person behind the Sherlollbrary. As much as I love to organize my life and everything else I can get my hands on, that���s not something I think I’d ever actually want to do. So what made you decide to start cataloguing Sherlolly fics?

M: My love of lists. Seriously, that’s it. I love making lists of things - like, how many stories did I write in 2013 for Sherlolly (37, as you now know!), how many one-shots have I written vs. multi-chapters, how many were prompts...and then I started seeing people doing lists of various tropes. The one that made me decided to start my Sherlollilists side blog was one put together for Sherlolly omegaverse stories. As more and more lists were created, edited, and added (I’m currently at 140 official lists, with more than a dozen unofficial lists), I decided it would nice to organize them all (not realizing quite what I was getting into!) as one spreadsheet, with other tropes and tags and keywords for folks to help narrow down their searches. It always give me a little thrill when I open the library and see folks are browsing, so I like to think it’s a useful tool (although I am looking forward to finishing it someday!)

@writingwife-83 asked: You work tirelessly to organize all the multitude of writing this ship produces, but how do you feel that affects you as a writer? Does it make you less interested in writing your own fics? Or does it tend to help get the wheels turning and inspire you?

M: I have to admit, sometimes curating the lists can completely put me off writing, simply due to feeling oversaturated. This is especially true when I am reading or skimming over fics that are, shall we say, not the best of the bunch. Or the times when I'm just pushing myself even if I'm not really enthusiastic about doing it. Those times, I've learned to just step back, which is why sometimes the lists don't get updated very quickly.

On the other hand, rereading a favorite or a forgotten gem can really get my creative juices flowing. At times like that, I fall back in love with the ship and the fandom all over again.

V: When you’re stuck with writer’s block or just a lack of motivation, does it help you more to reread an old fave or to go back through some of your own works? Have you noticed your style has changed much?

M: It does help, absolutely. It reminds me why I love this ship so much, and helps me reconnect with others in the fandom. People think of reading as passive and writing as solitary, but to me it’s an interactive process. Reading great fics, new can old, helps feed your creativity. And nowadays the internet helps so much as well - there are awesome resources and fandom spaces to talk to other folks about their works and your own, reminding you that you’re not creating in a vacuum. (And I REALLY love the cheerleading section of the Sherlolly Discord site. That can help unstick my creativity like nobody’s business!)

As for my style changing - yeah, it definitely has. I feel like my writing has become more streamlined and less clunky since I first started. I still do a lot of semicolon abuse but at this point I’ve decided that’s just my style and will likely never change.

Thanks for the excellent questions and for letting me ramble on!

V: I’m sure we can do a lot more rambling if left on the trail. How about one last one: In the currently hypothetical series 5, how would you continue the story from where it left off?

M: Oooh, good one! If I was in charge we would see that Sherlock and Molly are continuing their relationship, culminating with a wedding at the end of the third episode. But since I’m not in charge, I’m thinking that Mofftiss would give us some subtle hints, like John casually mentioning to Sherlock that he and Rosie can’t join ‘them’ for dinner that night for whatever reason. And maybe some small changes to 221B to show hints that someone else spends time there other than Sherlock and the Watsons - a cherry patterned pillow, perhaps? A Bart’s ID card with a woman’s picture to show that no, it isn’t one Sherlock nicked to get access to a place he otherwise couldn’t get to? A woman’s coat hanging next to Sherlock’s? Something like that. And some private smiles between Sherlock and Molly, little things like that. Enough to give us hope but not enough to give us proof! They do like to tease that way!

Non-shipwise, I think Eurus would make a return because come on, how do you leave a character like that catatonic? I also think they would return to ACD canon to revise a few more cases for the modern age, and maybe (maybe!) have John start dating again (especially if they’re so married to canon that they killed Mary off - since John seems to have been married at least twice, they would probably explore that option).

I know, that last part is a bit vague but honestly? I hope they surprise the hell out of us in a good way if we ever get that fifth series!

Next Week, Friday March 22nd, @ashockinglackofsatin talks to @sunken-standard

[spobyfanfictionarchive]

AN: Okay, first of all, if any of you are still reading this, I believe I owe you an apology bigger than I can even begin to write. I know I've apologized for not updating so many times before and I don't know at what point it becomes repetitive but I know I crossed that line a while ago so I just wanted to say I am truly sorry for as long as it's taken me to write this and get it out there. A big part of it had to do with what the show did when it returned. I don't think there was ever a worse season for Spoby than 7B. We had to go through a lot. Watching Toby be there, present, at another girl's bedside and not Spencer's. Having to watch Toby marry another girl. Having to watch Spencer behave in OOC ways and screw around with a random cop, for no apparent reason. Having to watch Toby grieve for another girl, as if she were the love of his life. Having to literally see the only two scenes we got that displayed a real romantic connection between our ship turn out to be a random twin we never knew about. I know the reason the writers held off on Spoby for the entirety of the timejump was so they could do the twin storyline but, honestly, I don't see how that was a necessity, unless they were sooo hung up on raping Toby twice, and I don't think the storyline was worth it, I'm sorry.

But the truth is, there was something that happened in 7B that directly changed how I felt about writing this fic. I'm going to try to keep writing it, but after 7B, I'm warning you, there is gonna be a plot-twist in this story that'll probably leave you all hating me, but it is essential to what this fic is about. It is part of the core of this fic and if I were to take it out, I probably wouldn't continue writing this story. I know none of that makes sense now but in hindsight, hopefully, it will.

Anyway, enough of the depressing and enough excuses hahaha. Thank you for reading this, even after all the times I've let you all down by promising to update and then not following through. I probably would have never decided to finish this chapter if it wasn't for the out-pour of reviews I've received since I last posted and the people who have messaged and tweeted me. Thank you to everyone.

Oh and look at that coincidence. Me updating on Spoby’s anniversary. It’s almost poetic.

(:

It was strange how time could pass and yet, in certain moments, moments of clarity, it was almost as if nothing were different.

There was a certain euphoria that overcame her whenever she was with the one man who she loved with every atom of her body. A euphoria that appeared when they were close, both physically and emotionally. When they were so connected, it felt like there was nothing in this life that could ever seep between them again.

It was moments like those that she was the most honest, the most uncensored, the most emotionally naked.

"You wanna know something fucked up," she murmured, her voice husky and quiet and honest as she gazed tranquilly into his eyes.

"What?"

"A part of me-a bigger part than I even want to say-was almost a little happy in the hospital. When my parents were constantly there," she owned. The cop's expression was so understanding, so insightful, grasping exactly what she meant without her even having to vocalize it. Even still though, she wanted to. "It's terrible and bizarre and really, really unnerving because of the reasons I was there but… I liked the fact that I mattered for once to them. I was finally was the center of their lives. They were there, every second they could be, worrying about me and not Melissa." She paused to chuckle humorlessly to herself, finally breaking eye contact and subsequently looking downwards, at the sheets they were tangled up in. "It's really fucked up that I feel like that, isn't it?"

"No." He laughed and shook his head, his eyes offering her only complete understanding. Too much to just be sympathizing with her. Enough that he had to be emphasizing. He took a small breath before opening up as well, their love making also bringing him a tranquility that brought on a new level of honesty. "I used to have this really awful fantasy about telling my dad what Jenna was doing to me," he admitted. "I would imagine him flying off the handle and telling my step-mom and flipping out on Jenna and. . . and, I guess, protecting me." The sensitive cop paused for a second, shutting his eyes and taking in a small breath before lamenting, "At first, I just did it so I could imagine it ending. As a coping mechanism to get through it. But then, I still sometimes imagine it, even now. Just so I can picture my dad actually knowing and knowing that I wasn't the culprit and that I'm not the screw-up he still believes I am. It's all a daydream but it's nice to pretend that he would actually take my side. That he would turn on Jenna if he knew what she'd done to me."

At his admission, the brunette stared at him, at loss for words. "Toby," she whispered, her eyes glued to his face. She wracked her brain for something to say but all that came out was, "I never knew that. You've never told me that before."

He offered her a somewhat forlorn half smile. "I've never told anyone that before."

She bit her lip and felt her body physically sag, feeling the same as she always did whenever the topic of Jenna and his sexual abuse came up. Powerless.

Probably, she realized, akin to how he felt much of the time when he had to watch her be tortured ceaselessly. "I'm never going to let her touch you again," she promised definitively.

He chuckled, leaning in closer to press a kiss to her soft cheek. "My knight and shinning armor."

She cracked then and wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling into his throat as he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him.

The subject of Jenna dredged up an even worse taste in her mouth than usual, her stomach twisting into knots at even the sound of the vile girl's name.

Desperate to rid herself of this feeling, desperate to bring back the sensation, the ecstasy, the euphoria and, more than anything, desperate to give the boy holding her tightly to his chest a million memories of making love to her to replace the traumatizing, humiliating recollections of being raped by his step-sister, she vigorously leaned in and pressed her lips to his throat, down his neck, onto his chest underneath her's, his weakest spot.

That was all it took for him to follow her lead.

X.

"I'm so scared," she whispered, minutes after they were finished, cuddled together, her legs between both of his, her head on his chest.

"Scared?" He prompted, his voice as loud as a breath.

"That this will change me. Forever." She bit her lip, digging deep inside, to the ugliest and most vulnerable parts of her. "After what happened in high school, I did pretty much anything and everything I could to, I guess revert back to who I once was. Who I thought I was supposed to be. And we both know that didn't work but…" She paused to look up at him, shrugging slightly. "At least I was able to get back some semblance of who I once was. I don't even know if that's possible now."

His large, gentle hands rubbed her back slowly and softly. "But I thought you didn't want to go back to who you used to be?" He questioned, confused. "That's what you said. That you wouldn't want to go back to the person you used to be, that you just wanted to be happy."

She was nodding before he was even finished. "I know," she admitted. "I know I said that but, after the dollhouse, everything was different. Everything was so dark and haunted and blurry and it took me more than a year to realize that… it wasn't anything but me. I was the one who was different and I just wanted everything to go back to the way it once was. When everything was easy and simple and I was in control. I just couldn't be the person I was when I entered that bunker."

He accepted her admission, allowing it to sink in. "Why did we never talk about this?" He finally asked, nearly inaudible.

To his surprise, she already knew the answer to that without having to think. "You weren't there," she explained. "You weren't there with me and I needed you. You grounded me, better than any drug or pill and without you physically there I had to find a way to cope. I guess I ended up shutting you out in the process."

She felt his Adam's apple bob against her head. "Why didn't you ever tell me that?"

She leaned upwards, peering into his eyes now, his sad, miserable blue eyes, offering him nothing but the small, knowing gleam in her irises. "Why didn't you come to Georgetown with me?"

It was her turn to be taken aback by the fact that he needed no time to think her question over either. "I thought I was doing what was best for you," he confessed. "I thought you wanted space. You always complained that you were too dependent on me and that you needed to learn to cope on your own. I wanted to help you so badly but-"

"I pushed you away," she finished for him, sighing as she laid her head back on his chest. "I made you think I didn't want you there."

"I just thought I was getting your way. I thought if I gave you space, I could save us." He paused, running his fingers through her hair, before musing dejectedly. "Somehow I ended up losing you anyway."

She smiled humorlessly against him. "For the record," she declared sincerely, "I'll always want you with me. You're my safe place to land. There hasn't been a time that I haven't wished you were there with me, by my side, since the day you kissed me in this parking lot."

"For the record," he repeated, a grin finding its way across his face, "there hasn't been a time that I haven't been completely in love with you, since the day I kissed you in this parking lot."

She smirked against his chest, pressing a kiss to his bare skin. "Good," she remarked lightly, running her hand down his stomach once again.

"Actually," he amended suddenly. "I should probably correct that. There hasn't been a time that I haven't been completely in love with you, since the day I woke up to you spooning me, in room 214."

She flew upwards, her eyes wide as he'd ever seen them. There was a slight twinge of embarrassment hiding underneath her shock. "You knew that?"

"Of course." He snickered not-so-subtly, pulling her back into the circle of his arms.

She squirmed, pouting bluntly. "You let me think you slept through all that," she mumbled.

The cop chuckled now, leaning down to press a kiss to the stitches in her forehead, brushing her bangs back. "You were so cute, trying to pretend you hadn't been cuddling me the whole night."

"Oh, yeah, coming from the guy who innocently asked if I had slept at all?" She shot back and was rewarded with a wide, abashed smile.

"Okay, you're right," he agreed, his hand tracing circles on her hip. "We're both liars."

She smirked up at him, suddenly liking the term that she'd been identified as for the last seven years, when it was partnered with him.

"What is it?" He asked, noting the look beneath her eyes.

"Huh?"

"Something else is on your mind," he insisted, completely positive of his assessment.

She caved easily, still finding it incomprehensible how he always just knew every inner working of her brain. It was something she never would get used to but was no longer marveling at. "I'm just worried, that's all."

"About not being able to put this behind you? Because, Spe-"

"No," she cut off, a faraway look taking over the gaze in her eyes now. "It's not that."

He waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he gently pressed, "Then what about?"

"Becoming too different from the girls." She rolled her tongue around the side of her cheek, realizing how juvenile all this sounded. But this was Toby. He'd adamantly told her once she could tell him anything. That she was his, that he'd never think she was ridiculous or overly emotional or redundant. She didn't believe it at the time or maybe she just couldn't comprehend the idea that someone loved her that much, but either way, she held a ludicrous amount of confidence when she was in his arms and before she had time to contemplate it in her brain, her mouth was pouring out words that she'd only ever thought to herself. "When we were in high school and our lives were complete chaos, we were so connected, it was weird. I got to college and everyone was almost glad to be rid of their high school friends but I had such a hard time letting anyone new in. You remember that. The girls used to be like my family. When we were in high school, all we really had was each other. But now," she trailed off for a moment. "Now we're so separate and it's strange. I don't rely on them like I used to. I rely on you. But then I remember that I always did and it's just, this whole thing makes me feel so different from them. Like they can't relate and they don't understand me anymore and like they're trying but suddenly I'm an outsider, looking in, at the people who I used to know inside and out."

"Babe," was the first word that slipped out of his mouth, his voice tender. His soft eyes searched her's, understanding why she felt this way but feeling his heart break for her anyway. He wracked his brain for a response, but all that came to mind was the blatant reality staring them dead in the face. "Honestly, Spencer? You might. You might grow completely away from them. We don't know the future. We don't know what might happen. But what I do know is those girls love you, more than anything. Even Ali. Alright, they will always be your family and they'll always be there for you if you need them. Trust me, I know it."

She nodded, absorbing his words. She'd always trusted his assessment of people even more than her own. To the point it was almost unhealthy.

Even when she was so far gone inside of her own head, whether it be to drugs or trauma, he was the one who showed her right from wrong. He was her voice of reason. Her conscience. The one thing she could trust, above everything else, when her world was falling apart and there wasn't a soul in sight to rely on.

The true definition of her safe place to land.

With that thought playing through her head, on repeat, she leaned upwards and connected their lips one more time, slipping her tongue into his mouth.

Her safe place to land.

Her fairy-tale, once upon a time.

Her entire heart.

Her everything.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair, his eyes falling shut. His words were no louder than a breath and had she been deep in thought, she knew she would have missed his apology altogether.

"For what?" The brunette instantly perked up, moving upwards from her position against his chest.

"For not fighting harder on staying here today." He offered her a heartbreaking, dejected smile, the guilt in his water blue eyes growing more prominent by the second.

"Toby," she murmured, staring up at him, both perplexed and baffled. "What're you talking about? You did try to get us to stay in."

"Not hard enough," he disagreed, his voice beginning to shake.

"Babe," she sighed, dangerously close to rolling her eyes. She fought the action, knowing what he was feeling was real, genuine guilt and her exasperation would not help. She worked to change her tone to an even level. "You had no way of knowing what was going to happen," she assured.

"I had an awful feeling about going there," he maintained still. "I felt like something would go wrong."

"But it didn't," she pointed out, a small, ironic laugh ejecting itself from her throat. "It didn't go wrong at all. Not in the end. Me and you are closer than ever. That's a good thing, isn't it?" To emphasize her point, she leaned down and placed a kiss onto the base of his neck, curling back up against him.

To her astonishment, her kisses didn't work. Not in the way they usually did. They were such a physical couple. They expressed their love in actions more so than words. Until recently, their I love you's only came in rapid succession when they were geographically apart. Whenever they were together, they both found their love language in affection.

Her mouth being unable to provide him comfort meant that this was something really weighing on him.

"I still should have known," he whispered after a second, his voice diminishing in volume once again.

She sat up, meeting his eyes with a defiant, discerning look in her's. "Why?"

"Because I love you," he stated, as if it were obvious. In his mind, it probably should have been. "Because no one knows you like I do. Because I learned to trust my instincts a long time ago. When it came to you and in life in general."

"Yeah, well, I knew that you thought it was a bad idea to go and I still chose to, so I should share in this guilt you have decided to take all for yourself," she declared, her tone light. She traced her fingers in circles around his chest, attempting to relax him, even just a little.

He offered her a cheerless smile, dismissing her statement. "You didn't think it would end that bad though. I did."

Her face changed, morphing into a somewhat dismayed expression. "Actually, I did."

His head snapped towards her. "What?"

She swallowed, adverting her eyes before coming clean. "I thought about the possibility of it ending badly too. I just wouldn't let myself really consider it happening though. Not once I saw that you did."

It was his turn to look at her with quiet shock. "What do you mean?"

"I wanted to prove to you that you didn't have to worry about me," she admitted, feeling the same guilt he'd been displaying moments before. "I was determined to show you I was alright. That I was getting better."

His reaction caught her off-guard. He slowly shut his eyes, bringing up one arm to cover his face, groaning exhaustedly.

"Tobes?" She called softly, after moment.

"Promise me, Spencer, that you will never think like that again," he stipulated, clearly frustrated. But still, his tone was so calm and his eyes were so loving and it was all verging on the edge of an oxymoron but it was still so Toby and somehow she still felt so safe and so loved. Before she could defend her reasoning for why she did what she did, he continued. "There is no limit in my mind to what I think you can do. I don't get apprehensive about things because I think you're weak or unstable. But if there really is something that we both think could go wrong, don't decide to do it in defiance, because you think you need to prove you can."

"Don't you get it?" She pressed, attempting to get him to see things from her eyes. "That's what I do. That's what I've always done. I have always pushed myself through any obstacle in my way to show anyone who doubts me that I'm strong enough-"

"Spencer," he cut off, his voice even softer now. "I'm not your family. I'm not trying to challenge you or bring you down. And I know, baby, I know, that this is not easy to grasp because of how you were raised, but I would never do anything to try to make you prove yourself or challenge you. Okay, you don't have to prove yourself to me. We could be cooped up in this hotel room for the next ten years and you would still be enough to me. You are everything to me. And all I want is for you to be okay."

She shut her eyes to hold in the saltwater threatening to pour out, as he hit nearly every insecurity in her mind. "I'm sorry," she choked out, her already raspy voice hitting a new level of guttural. "I'm sorry," she repeated as she threw herself back against his chest with reckless abandon.

"I'm not mad," he promised, wrapping his arms around her the second she was against him. "I just don't want you thinking that you have anything to prove. Not to me."

"I know," she whispered, trying to calm her emotions once again as she felt herself getting choked up.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead and she knew it was a lost cause as the tears began to fall.

"Toby," she murmured hoarsely, as he rubbed her back.

"Hmmm?"

"If you had such a bad feeling, then why'd you even agree to come today?" She peered up at him, her eyes genuinely curious.

He gave her a look, as if it were obvious. "Because, Spence, no matter what happens, it's still your choice. It'll always be your choice. I'd give up a limb if it helped you but I'm not the one in control. And I don't want to be." He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her hair. "You're still alpha. You'll always be my alpha."

She shut her eyes, his words eliciting a smirk now. "Yeah?" She prompted, her mood rising.

"Yeah." He nodded, returning her smile.

"Good," she quipped, her smirk growing wider as she climbed on top of his chest, pressing their bodies together suggestively. "I like being alpha."

His smile turned right into a smirk then too. Leaning up to kiss her, he whispered coyly, "trust me, I know."

"Tobes, can you get the door?" Spencer asked through clenched teeth.

He slowly got up from his chair, leaving her miserably sitting on top of the table, nursing her headache.

It was barely short of being a migraine, she concluded to herself, the pain too strong to be bothered to share her realization out loud.

She had woken up that morning with a pounding tension headache that relentlessly wouldn't let her go back to sleep. Laying there, passively, cuddled up to Toby hadn't forced the pain away and it hadn't helped with the ache circulating through the rest of her body either, as she was due for another over-the-counter painkiller.

She'd gone as far as to wake up her boyfriend and tried to kiss her headache away, but when the throbbing hadn't let up, she had to break off the kiss and resign herself to the misery.

The cop returned only seconds later, speaking in a gentle tone, as if her pain was caused by a loud noise. "Em's here to see you," he murmured quietly.

"I can see," she retorted flatly.

Her tone had little effect on him, aware that her irritability was solely about her headache. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, sweetly before sitting back down in his chair.

The brunette made her way over to her friend, not even bothering to hide her wretched expression, dragging her feet as she walked.

"Rough night?" The tan girl inquired when she was close enough, leaning in for a hug.

"Rough morning," Spencer corrected, her voice muffed by her friend's shirt.

"How are you?" Emily's eyes were filled with anxiety, clearly asking about more than the headache.

"Fine." The brunette nodded, her eyes shooting to Toby across the room, yesterday's events playing through her mind, everything he'd done for her flickering back to the forefront of her brain. She didn't quite understand how she ended up with such a selfless, compassionate, loving man, but she didn't care. He was her's and he was all she'd ever want.

"It's okay if you're not okay, Spence," her friend assured. "I can't even imagine how you must feel-"

"I'm fine," she insisted, realizing then that the last time her friend saw her, she was in hysterics, begging to be taken away. Working to liven up her tone, she attempted to force the frustrating ache in her head out of her expression. "Really, Em. I'm better."

The dark haired girl studied her for a hot second. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Spencer chucked slightly, sitting on the edge of the motel bed.

Emily took a seat next to her. "Does Toby have anything to do with your well-being?" She looked over her shoulder, peering back to the cop who was currently searching something on his laptop.

"Yes." The brunette nodded, smiling now in spite of herself. "Of course, he does."

Her friend returned the gesture. "He loves you a lot," she mused.

"I know. And I so don't deserve it."

Emily's expression turned south. "Spence," she nearly rebuked and for less than a second, it was reminiscent of Spencer's childhood nanny. "You, of all people, deserve to have someone who loves you unconditionally."

Spencer's smile turned into a grimace and her headache had nothing to do with it now. "I'm not so sure about that," she disagreed, almost inaudibly.

Seeing the brunette's stubborn streak beginning to resurface, Emily changed the subject without a segue. "Have you spoken to Aria?"

Spencer stared her, perplexed. "No? Should I have?"

"Oh." The raven haired girl's eyebrows pulled together. "No, I just thought she'd check in on you, at least."

The bruised girl still wasn't comprehending–and that was a foreign concept to her. "What's that mean?"

Emily looked like she wished she'd never even asked now. "Aria just got really upset after you left," she disclosed hesitantly, like she was telling her something she shouldn't.

Spencer blinked once, twice, three times, four. By the time she got to five, she pressed, "Aria got upset how?"

"She flipped out and started yelling at all of us, in front of what was left of that crowd. Said we were all at fault for what was happening to you. That if we hadn't always relied on you, maybe you wouldn't have been chosen to be kidnapped."

The brunette just stared at her for a solid minute on end, her mouth opening slightly. "What? W-why? What made her snap?"

Emily chose her words very carefully. "Aria had never seen you have one of your attacks before…"

The tan girl, quite obviously was trying to avoid upsetting her but somehow the words still managed to cut through her like a knife. Her stomach dropped before her brain could even catch up and it took her a minute to realize that it was culpability that was disturbing her. It was the fact that the girls who she even now still considered closer to her than her actual family, were falling apart along with her.

She felt like a drop of poison, slowly but steadily seeping into every single person she cared about's life and killing them, little by little. She felt like an awful friend, even if this was so beyond her own control. She felt like a terrible person for not even checking in on the girls, acting entitled enough that she expected them to come to her. She felt like a disaster for not even being able to keep her own thought process straight anymore, a feat that only had slipped away from her a number of times before in her life.

She felt like a murderer.

Emily interrupted her train of self-hatred. "I just came here to make sure everything was alright with you after yesterday. I was here last night too," she amended, glancing at the cop a few feet back, appearing seemingly oblivious to the girls' conversation. "But Toby said you were exhausted and passed out."

"I was," Spencer confirmed, as if she needed to prove that she wasn't avoiding her friends. Looking around, as if noticing for the first time the absence, the brunette asked, "Where's Hanna?"

"With Caleb, I think. I don't know really. I spent the night at Ali's. Hanna wasn't really in a great mood after Aria's tirade." Emily paused for a second before elaborating. "Aria sort of went off on Hanna especially. She said that if Hanna hadn't told you to date Caleb, we all would have been more focused on -A instead of relationship drama and you may have not been kidnapped."

Spencer bit her lip, knowing in that area, at least, she was guiltier than Hanna. "I'm really sorry," she whispered, her eyes falling into her lap. Shame overtook her body, almost overshadowing her headache.

The darker girl looked at her adamantly. "Spence, none of this is your fault. You're the one that we should be apologizing to-"

"No, Em, that's not true," the brunette cut off. "It's my drama and I have no business involving all you in it."

She meant it. This was her nightmare and her nightmare alone. She may not understand why she was chosen to be the one in the massacre, it may be a complete mystery what happened that night and, if she were being honest, a part of her didn't feel like she was going to get through this in one piece, but it was evident that her trauma was tearing her friends apart.

And she couldn't live with herself if she hurt them.

No matter what happened, no matter how isolated from them she may feel, she would never, in her right mind, allow herself to bring them down with her.

In the back of her mind, she couldn't believe she was really allowing Toby to suffer alongside her either, but she also knew, selfishly, that if he wasn't there, she would completely lose her grip on reality.

He was her lifeline, her light at the end of the tunnel, her fairytale and her safe haven. She didn't even know anymore where she ended and he began.

He was like her silver lining in this entire mess. The one thing that was still pulling her back when she felt like she was about to fly off the edge. The thing that still motivated her to get up in the morning, not matter what pain, physical or mental, undoubtedly awaited her that day,

"You should leave," the brunette murmured and she wasn't sure if it was the headache or the sudden insight of how many lives she was wrecking, but her stomach was cramping up and her neck felt hot and her vision was blurring and for the tenth time, she wondered if she didn't belong in a mental ward, more than Mona, more than Cece, more than Bethany Young.

"Spence," Emily called, her expression shifting to one of distress. Her head whipped around, searching for Toby in an instant.

He was already rushing over to them, not even meeting their friend's terrified eyes. "Spencer," he murmured, his tone even. Without an ounce of hesitation, he dropped to his knees in front of her, meeting her at eye level. "Breathe, Spence," he instructed, already knowing what was wrong.

When she didn't comply, he placed his hands on either side of her face. "Baby," he whispered, his breath hitting her pale skin. "Shut your eyes and breathe."

Somehow, peering only into his deep oceanic blues and nothing else, the wheels in her head turned and her brain kicked started back to life. Her eyes fell shut and she felt oxygen enter her lungs once again. Unconsciously, her body relaxed under her boyfriend's touch, as he ran his hands down her arms and back.

The first words out of her mouth weren't, surprisingly, to the man she loved and felt connected to with every ounce of her soul. They were to her best friend.

"This is what I was talking about, Em," she stated before her eyes were even open. Her tone now had gained a level of rasp that it didn't contain before.

The tan girl struggled to respond. "Spence-"

"I'm a disaster," the brunette stated, point blank, just as her eyes reopened, with a fierier gaze than even before. "I'm a ticking time bomb."

"Spence," Toby murmured, wounded by his girlfriend's words and the level of conviction in them.

She ignored him, knowing that if she let him seep in, if she acknowledged his tender words and his unhindered faith in her, she may never get what she needed to say out. "I'm going to blow up one day and I can't have you or any of the others standing too close. Go," she demanded, gesturing towards the motel room door. "Get out. Stop worrying about me, and take care of yourself. Tell the others to do the same thing. No, better yet, make the others do the same thing."

Now it was Emily's turn to speak, as there was nothing left for Spencer to say. But when she opened her mouth, it was obvious that words escaped her. "Spencer," the baffled girl whispered, her tone almost as dejected and insistent as Toby's. "I'm not going to do that. None of us are. We're going to all get through this. Together."

"Em!" Spencer snapped now, only stopping to catch her breath once again when Toby rubbed her shoulder gently. "You're not listening to me. I said-"

"Spencer, I don't think you're listening to me," Emily cut off and strangely, in the back of her mind, Spencer noted that it pleased her that her strong-willed friend still wasn't afraid to fight with her, just as intensely as she always had. Same as it brought her relief when her parents took Melissa's side back in the hospital.

Old habits die hard.

Old habits, even the most unhealthy ones, bring relief to the deepest pits of your soul.

"We're your friends and we're not going to leave you, no matter how self destructive you may feel," Emily insisted, pulling her out of her thoughts.

Her voice, dying down as the throb in her head began growing stronger, dully croaked out, "You have no idea what you're saying."

She met Toby's eyes just as the words landed on Emily and her chest hurt, at the unconcealed pain in his eyes. He hurt, seeing her like this, knowing this is what she truly believed was best, that her friends shouldn't be dragged down by her burdens too. He hurt, knowing what she was trying to do was to protect those she loved and yet, knowing that it would kill her if they actually did listen.

Before either of the girls could speak again, Toby was actually the one to end the conversation. "I think you should leave, Em," he suggested and his voice was not unkind. He sent Emily a sympathetic look and for a second Spencer wondered if she wasn't being entirely irrational, if he wasn't grasping their friend's point of view better than her's.

His hand rubbing her thigh alleviated her insecurity a little and stopped her from feeling betrayed, knowing that he was always on her side, against anything. Even if he didn't see things the same or understand where she was coming from.

"Toby," Emily gaped. "No, that's-"

"I'm not saying don't ever come back," he quickly modified and relief filtered into the tanner girl's expression. Somehow when Toby told her to do something, it held more merit than it would coming from anyone else.

Evidently, it wasn't just Spencer who trusted the cop to show her right from wrong, to guide her to good decisions versus the bad, self-destructive ones she was naturally attracted to. Evidently, it wasn't just her who trusted Toby, like a guardian angel, without reservations, without doubts or questions or fears.

He deserved to have so many more people look at him and see him as he was. A kind hearted, good natured, dedicated, protective, forgiving boy, who loved with every ounce of his being.

He deserved a hundred times better than her.

"I'm saying," Toby's voice pulled her back to reality, "this argument isn't helping anyone right now. Give it time and cool off and come back. Neither of you need a blowout fight right now."

Emily nodded, clearly persuaded by the cop. She stood up from her seat on the bed, next to Spencer. "I'll call you later, alright," she swore as she headed towards the door.

"Okay," was all Spencer offered in return, a small, abashed smile working its way onto her face.

It was a strange thing, to dread and fear pushing those you love most away, and yet, still actively do it. To have an unkindness inside you, an unkindness towards yourself, that lashes out towards those in your vision, towards those who want to help you, towards those you think you're protecting. It was a strange thing to love your friends and still, at times, wish they never saw you again, knowing that the less they did, the less chance there was of you hurting them. That every moment you were surrounded by people, was a moment you could ruin them. Your tragedies could drag them down, rip them apart, away from each other, show them every dark and disturbing thing lingering underneath your skin, show them exactly who they could be if pushed hard enough, show them exactly what they have been afraid of for all these years.

It was even stranger to know that there was someone out there, who loved her more than words or rationale or life itself. Someone who could look into her eyes and see every dark thought she'd ever had, and still call her their angel. Someone who loved her beyond reason and morals and truth.

Someone who would give up everything in their life to be with her, in spite of who she was. In spite of all she could turn out to be.

She was like a gun, spinning round and round in a circle, the trigger so close to being pulled, the kick just moments away. And whoever was in her path became her target.

Once again, her thoughts were interrupted by the boy with sandy brown hair, who was still kneeling in front of her. As their friend exited the motel, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, before pressing another an inch away.

"You know, I wasn't saying you were irrational?" He asked against her silky soft skin.

"I know." She swallowed visibly.

"I never want you to think that I'm insinuating anything." He pulled back to lock their eyes together, pressing his forehead to her's. "I just didn't want to see one more thing cause you pain. Especially after what you said this morning, about the girls-"

"Baby, I know," she reassured, her voice barely a whisper. "I know."

Her arms encircled his neck, burrowing her face in her shoulder, and she was surprised when she felt him pick her up.

He carried her, as if she weighed absolutely nothing, over to the chair by his laptop, sitting down with her arms still around his neck. "Does your head still hurt?" He asked attentively, moving one hand from around her narrow waist to massage her temple.

"Yeah," she confirmed, no point in even denying it. It was obvious from her still unhappy expression and tense body language that she was experiencing discomfort.

"Do you have any idea what could be causing it?" He inquired, his lips softly pressing against the stitches in her forehead.

"Brain tumor?"

"Spencer."

"I'm sorry," she sighed, giving him a small grimace. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

"Why do you look like that?"

"Look like what?"

"Ashamed," he murmured, his voice gaining an edge.

She shrugged, leaning her head against his shoulder, her ears throbbing and her neck growing tired and the ache spreading to her teeth. "I don't know."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of. Just because you're not exactly the person you were before doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you. Emily knows that, Hanna knows that, Aria knows that. Even Alison knows that. No one expects you to be perfect right now, so stop expecting yourself to be miraculously better overnight."

She stared at him, his tirade catching her off guard. "They're snapping at each other because of me," she stated after a minute, though she knew that information was completely irrelevant to anyone but her. "Aria freaked out on all of them and they're not even speaking to each other now. They blame themselves for what's happening to me."

"That isn't your fault," he reaffirmed. "I get why Aria snapped at the others. I really do. But that doesn't mean it's up to you to fix it. It isn't up to you to still be their backbone right now."

Spencer snorted, closing her eyes against his shirt. "I'll always be their backbone." Before he could argue, before he could say anything else, she continued. "Just like you'll always be my safe place to land."

Smiling in spite of everything, the twenty-four year old whispered, leaning down to press his lips against her's. "Always."

"Babe," Spencer murmured quietly, soothed by the feeling of her boyfriend's hand massaging her scalp. Her headache remained persistent but he refused to give up. "Your phone's vibrating."

Shifting his leg from under her to pull his cell from his pocket, he causally took the call. "Hello?" There was a short pause before Toby's eyes widen faintly with recognition. "Oh hi, Martin," he greeted now, his voice only a little awkward.

Spencer couldn't help but smirk in spite of her pain. She loved him in every aspect, in every facet of life and in any situation, but she couldn't help finding him cute when he was forced to be, in any way, outgoing.

Already knowing this, already been teased about this a thousand times over more than half a decade, Toby didn't even look at her as he pinched her hip gently, upon seeing her grin out of the corner of his eye.

Before she could say anything or even wipe the smirk off her face, Toby's expression changed. "Thank you!" He murmured, his voice uncharacteristically extroverted. "I appreciate you calling me, sir."

As soon as he hung up, Spencer, still situated across his lap, deadpanned, "Sir?"

He gave her a look. "He's nearly double my age, Spence. I think sir is appropriate."

"Mmhmm," she hummed, pinching the bridge of her nose, hoping to end the throbbing in her head. "You're cute when you talk on the phone," she teased quietly.

Now it was his turn to deadpan. "Do you want to make fun of me or do you want to know why Martin called?"

Her muddled mind didn't make the connection until then. "Wait, is this about the apartment? Can we not move in now? The tenets changed their minds, didn't they? I swear, my luck is just–"

"Spencer," Toby interrupted, wrapping both his arms around her waist, pulling her tighter to him. Their noses brushed up against each other suggestively. "The apartment is ours. We can move in next week."

There was a beat of silence for approximately three seconds before the cop's throat was being strangled, his breath being cut off in her chokehold. She ejected something akin to a squeal, which seconds after was followed by a groan as the agonizing ache in her head intensified.

"Maybe we should get you to a doctor," he murmured softly, taking in his girlfriend's predicament for the hundredth time that day.

"I'm fine," she objected, but the ache did bring down some of her excitement. "Tobes?"

"Yeah?"

She opened her mouth before the words even formed on her lips, pondering for a moment. "Why are they letting us move in so soon?"

Toby blinked once before, very noticeably, masking some sort of expression. "People move into apartments quickly all the time."

She narrowed her eyes into slits, sitting up straighter now to peer over him. "I can tell when you're lying, Tobias."

He flushed slightly at his full name. "Alright, fine," he relented. "I don't know why the tenets are letting us move in so soon."

"Martin said at the open house it was going to be weeks, at least."

"I know." He nodded evenly. "But I really don't want to push our luck."

"Yeah, I guess," she agreed after a moment.

Already seeing where her mind was going, he disputed, "Spencer, you're not their charity case."

"Are you kidding me–"

"You're not," he promised, his eyes gaining a fiery adamancy she loved from the deepest part of her soul.

She rolled her eyes, her headache ripping a lot of the usual fight out of her. "If you're so sure, then call and ask why they're letting us in so quick."

Spencer knew in the back of her mind that really, when it came down to it, what truly bothered her about the idea of being someone's charity case, is the fact that it was a entirely foreign concept for her. She'd never really experienced people feeling pity towards her. Outside of the weeks following her abduction to the dollhouse, there wasn't a time she could recall when people weren't intimidated by her. She was Spencer Hastings. She was the bred to always be the best and the brightest, and when it really came down to it, as much as she hated to own it, as much as she prided herself on never being her sister, as much as she loved to claim she choked on the silver spoon, she had always been known as part of one of the richest families in town and that came with a certain confidence.

Even if she was the black sheep of said family.

She knew it made her self-righteous. She knew in a lot of ways, she hadn't entirely escaped the person her parents molded her to be. She was used to being powerful and sharp and bold and having that stripped away, having that taken from her in any capacity, no matter how much she tried to fight it, was a hard pill to swallow.

She could care less about the amount of money in her bank account. She had Toby and she had everyone she loved still breathing-at least, for the moment. Money didn't buy happiness, she knew.

But, in a lot of ways, it did buy confidence. It did create an aurora around her that she had barely realized, barely seen, as it had always been there. The way people regarded Peter and Veronica Hastings' second born, the way people saw the youngest Hastings daughter, the way people viewed her, had always been impacted by the rich and powerful family she was born into.

Even her friends realized it. Even the people she had lived through some of the worst moments of her entire life with said it, whispering in hushed tones under their breath, snickering and rolling their eyes while snapping back and forth witty retorts about the bottomless, Hastings bank account, all while fully realizing she was trailing right behind them.

"Well, it's the Hastings, so I'm guessing it costs more than your car."

"Not all of us have a Daddy that can write a check to make the boogeyman go away."

"You've never had to be charming. You get to act like a total snot-rag, 'cause Mommy and Daddy have a safety-net of cash to catch your fall."

"I told Yvonne that I was Green Acres and you were Park Avenue."

The last one, the freshest memory, the one of Toby and her and a girl who had invaded the sandy haired cop's pure heart, standing in the middle of the street, making small talk, snapped something inside of her. The memory stung her in ways she couldn't even articulate, especially now. Somehow the memory of that day, that specific moment in time, threw her stomach into tighter knots now, as she sat on Toby's lap, than it did as it was actually happening.

She never knew exactly what he meant by that quip. Whatever the meaning, it felt like a sharp stab in the gut and cracked Yvonne up like no other.

She remembered the words, "he's just kidding", which left Spencer with the impression that he wasn't just kidding and that the dark skinned girl worried as an afterthought that she would take offense to the phrase, and "we watch a lot of retro TV", which still made no sense to the brunette, whatsoever.

She'd never asked though and not even out of fear or embarrassment but because she literally hadn't even remembered it until this moment.

It felt like a different life, if she was being honest. But then again, five years ago in Rosewood also felt like another life.

Something about the memory shook her to the core. She'd been fine for all of four minutes-not counting the pounding, unrelenting headache-and now, she could feel herself slipping away all over again.

She supposed she should be happy because no memory from the massacre had come back yet today and at this point, after days upon days of repeated flashbacks, she should be counting her fucking blessings.

She wasn't. Because suddenly a memory of the boy she loved with every fractured piece of her heart, was forcing her neck to grow hot and her stomach to violently clench with a dread she couldn't will away and suddenly she felt an antsy trepidation, a harrowing scream buried inside of her, a fight or flight instinct yelling at her to choose.

"Babe, do you want to order in for dinner?" Toby asked gently, noticing instantly the change in her.

"No," she answered, her response quick and inattentive.

"Spence?" The cop murmured again, his concern rapidly mounting.

She refused eye contact, still trying to reconcile her confusion and the blind ache the comment sent through her with every single tender, loving interaction they'd shared since she woke up in the hospital.

It was ridiculous, she rationalized to herself, as she stood up from his embrace. It was ridiculous to feel so stung and so mortified and so self-conscious about an interaction that had occurred weeks ago, that was essentially null and void now, after everything that had happened since, after all they had been through again, after all that had been said and done.

Of course, if she were really thinking back to that day on the street, Spencer realized, with all consuming guilt and exhaustion, Toby had just been told the girl he still loved to his very core, was now officially with his best and nearly only friend.

Of course he had been angry. Of course he had been hurt. Of course he had been upset. He had every right in the world to be.

Maybe when you break up, you no longer owe each other anything. You don't have to be decent to each other. You don't have think of the other's feelings.

That all sounds so good on paper. But the truth is, how can you not owe anything to the person you said was your safest haven in this world? How can you not think of the feelings of the person who was your sole source of hope and understanding for years upon years on end? How can you not still try to do right by the person, who pulled you out of the deepest and darkest part of your life, who held you like a lifeline, who gave up everything for you to be alright, who showed you what it meant to love and be loved, unlike any other person in your life?

How could she really date his best friend and not realize the irreparable damage she was doing to their relationship? Whether they were platonic or romantic, how she not understand the repercussions of her own actions? Wasn't she Spencer Hastings? Didn't she meticulously plan out every detail of her life? Didn't she turn herself inside out for the people she loved most in this world? Didn't the pain she had inflicted, not only on Hanna, but also on the man she still loved with a stronger fervor than she could have ever conjured up for Caleb, ever drive home to her exactly what she was risking? Didn't it occur to her that her blonde best friend wasn't the only one she owed consideration to? More than a strangled apology–to which he'd instantly rebuffed–but a sincere heartfelt conversation?

She knew she would never have done that, under any circumstances under the sun. Because had she told him what she was about to do, had she ever sat down and talked to him about her feelings, had they ever discussed how it made them feel to see the other one move on, she never would gotten with Caleb Rivers. She never would have started the hurricane that threatened to rip apart everything. She never would have pushed Hanna to throw herself in the line of fire, the permanent wedge never would have been driven between the two girls, the fight at the party may have never happened.

And she may never have been kidnapped that night.

Handfuls of people wouldn't have lost their lives.

She wouldn't be a natural disaster, waiting to rain havoc everywhere in sight.

And all of this started with her.

Her and her, alone.

"Is it your head?" Toby asked, his concern for his girlfriend increasing by the second. "Is your headache getting worse?"

"Its fine, Toby," she assured, though her voice was flat. She hadn't looked him in the eye in nearly three hours, lying now in bed, with her back facing him.

"I don't believe you," he stated, his voice still kind, even when calling her on her bluff.

And she didn't deserve him. She didn't deserve to have someone like him love her.

And she didn't deserve to feel hurt or angry or betrayed, to hold him accountable for anything he thought or said while she was with his best friend.

But a small part of her couldn't completely let it go, couldn't entirely rationalize the hurt away and she didn't know if that made her angry with him or angry with herself.

"Let me give you a back massage," Toby offered desperately, being unable to see her suffering, feeling powerless, the same way he'd always had.

"Toby," Spencer murmured, her voice growing more and more stern by the second, only half focused on what she was saying to him. "I'm just tired."

"I can give you another painkiller," he insisted, his chair scooting across the carpet, already moving towards the pill bottle on the counter. "It's been a couple hours since-"

"I don't want one," she insisted.

"What about if we went for a drive?"

"I just want to stay in bed."

"I could run you a bath?"

"Toby-"

"I could-"

"I said I didn't want to!"

Silence filled the air, as her scream, her aggravated, furious, vulnerable scream, hung between them.

She hadn't yelled at him like that in years.

She had barely yelled at him like that in their first relationship. The notion that something was driving itself between them, that there was a gap forming in between their unbreakable bond, was both terrifying and heart-wrenching to both of them. It nearly brought the cop to his knees, she knew, to feel this wedge squeezing the oxygen out of the love that had sustained them through so much.

That was why he'd always ran away. That was why he'd always skipped town when they were about to hit the jagged, unforgiving rocks.

But, now, standing in the motel room with her, the notion that something was very, very wrong inside the girl he loved was even stronger, and it outweighed any other thing in his mind.

"Can I hold you?" He whispered after a minute of dead quiet, his voice inexplicably raw.

"Just leave me alone," she whispered, barely even looking over her shoulder to say the words.

She knew she was making it worse, cutting him deeper, selfishly causing him pain just because she hurt.

But after coming to the realization that all roads, roads that left almost everyone she'd ever cared about, heartbroken or shell-shocked, roads that got perfectly innocent strangers killed or kidnapped, led back to her, forced all other thoughts in her head to pale in comparison.

After remembering that day on the street, the singular thought that ignited all of this, Spencer just wanted to scream into her pillow and fall into a slumber in which she never had to wake up.

She realized then she was holding her breath and let out a violent exhalation, noting the lack of noise now coming from her boyfriend behind her. She heard him take his seat again before his laptop, but his eyes never left her back and she didn't dare to look at him now, knowing she had just driven a knife so deep into his stomach, driven a distance between them at record speed, destroyed probably any sort of trust he had in their relationship.

She knew if she looked at him, she would crumble. To pieces, bit by bit. Suddenly and all at once.

But when his eyes didn't leave her back, when she could feel his concern for her and his unyielding love and unconditional understanding, she could feel herself wavering, deep down wanting nothing more than to crawl back into his arms and tell him exactly what was going on in her head. To kiss him senseless, despite her headache–which was increasingly getting worse–and to make love like there's no tomorrow and they're the only people on this Earth and like a rapid fire explosion couldn't touch them as long as they were together, as one.

But she refused to allow herself to do that, to allow herself that reprieve, almost as if she didn't deserve it, didn't deserve to be happy when all she could feel inside was appalling and horrified and selfish and liable.

Almost as a distraction, acting entirely on autopilot, she grabbed her phone off her nightstand and yanked it off the charger.

She hurriedly fumbled to type into her search bar, Green Acres Park Avenue.

Instantly, the World Wide Web met her with several million results.

Green Acres Theme.

Green Acres Lyrics.

Green Acres! - Review of 1049 Park Avenue, New York City, NY - Trip Advisor.

Green Acres is about Oliver Wendell Douglas (Eddie Albert), an erudite New York City attorney, acting on his dream to be a farmer, and Lisa Douglas (Eva Gabor), his glamorous Hungarian wife, who is dragged unwillingly from an upscale Manhattan penthouse apartment and the city life she adores to a ramshackle farm.

The last entry, the one speaking on the premise of the show, clarified all of the brunette's questions and dug the pit even deeper in her stomach.

It didn't take much to put two and two together on the street that day, it didn't take a genius to figure out him referring to himself Green Acres and her Park Avenue together probably meant he was calling her a snob. He was taking a swipe at her. He, for a split second in time, took on the opinion shared with everyone else in town.

It shouldn't have been such a big deal. It shouldn't have dug so deep inside her. It shouldn't have made her chest ache as badly as her head and her throat throb, the way it always did when she suppressed tears, like she had to physically swallow them down.

But it did.

The second the first sob fell out of her mouth, Toby was already halfway across the room, done with asking permission to console her.

Both his arms wrapped around her and instinct took over as she flung herself entirely into his embrace, molding her body around his.

He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, his face lingering there as another sob fell out of her mouth, her chest heaving violently.

This wasn't about the joke anymore, Spencer knew. It couldn't be. A stupid, petty inside joke couldn't wrack her to the core this way.

No, this was about everything surrounding that joke. About everything she'd done that led to that moment, standing there, with the man she loved and another girl who loved him. About the choices she made out of stubborn pride, that took her down a path that led to isolating Toby, that led to damaging her relationship with Hanna forever, that led to completely annihilating her once only male friendship. About the days that led up to the massacre.

About how if she'd done just anything differently, she may have never been kidnapped.

And if she'd never been kidnapped, she wouldn't be on the brink of insanity right now.

And all those people would still be alive and well. Half wouldn't be deceased, half wouldn't be assumed dead.

Toby was still holding her to him, rocking her back and forth as if his life depended on it. His fingers sifted through her messy curls absentmindedly, as he whispered in her ear, "It's okay, baby. It's okay."

But none of it was okay. Everything that had unraveled in their lives, every awful sensation they were experiencing, came directly back to her.

She may not have killed all those people but she was responsible for it. She could have stopped it. She could have changed it.

She could have saved them.

She could have saved that boy, lying on the ground, bleeding out in front of her. The nameless stranger that she was too afraid to acknowledge, too afraid that someone might know him if she told anyone besides Toby. Too afraid that knowing who he was might force her to come to terms with the fact that he'll never grow up into he was meant to be. He'll never get another chance to fulfill his dreams or right his mistakes or give his loved ones two more minutes.

All the things she still had, that she was still selfishly taking for granted.

She could have saved Eddie Lamb. The male nurse, that had been her only confident when she was lost to everything and everyone. Including the boy now cuddling her like no tomorrow.

Eddie had been one of the only people who consistently looked out for her mental wellbeing. Who cared to always ask how she was doing. Who cared to look her over and make sure she wasn't on her way back to the funny farm.

He had maintained being the sole male in power who refused to make a romantic advance, who refused to see her as less than a person who needed help, instead of a girl who's barely legal body was warm and soft and inviting and more than anything, as everyone had made clear as day in the past, easy.

"All the pain and disappointment and loss, because you were stubborn."

Mona had spoken the words, almost six years ago, not even realizing how true they'd one day be.

"Baby," Toby whispered into her hair after twenty minutes, when she still had made no move to let go of him, to explain what was so wrong with her now, to even wipe her face.

Pulling back a little, she felt her mouth contort into a soft, barely there smile as her boyfriend wiped underneath one of her eyes gently with his thumb.

She swallowed hard, rubbing her nose, with uncharacteristic haste.

When she still refused to meet his eyes, the cop spoke again, his voice still as gentle as ever, though his patience was starting to dissipate. "Spence, talk to me," he implored. "What's going on?"

She shook her head, at loss at how exactly to explain this. That one memory of him and his almost fiancé, triggered a mounting of self-hatred? That she suddenly realized the repercussions of dating his best friend? That she was a mess and felt like she was falling apart at the seams, and part of her, a tiny part that she pretended didn't exist, was screaming out in her head that she was losing it entirely. She wasn't sure how long she could keep going, how much longer she could last before she gave up or completely snapped or blacked out all over again.

She tried to remind herself that she was drugged the night of the massacre. She knew that now. She didn't just black out. Her memory didn't disappear and it wasn't playing hide and seek in her brain.

It was stolen from her, in one of the most violent ways imaginable, and now it was playing peek-a-boo whenever she, even for a split second, thought she could be alright.

"Spence, you can tell me anything," Toby whispered, alerting her out of her own thoughts. "If there's something new that came back and somehow I missed it, tell me. Tell me and I'll do anything you need, anything it takes-"

"Toby," she cut off, shaking her head. With everything inside of her, she wanted to reassure him that nothing was truly wrong.

He thought something traumatic and harrowing had come back. He was in his own personal hell, assuming the very worst, powerlessly watching the person he loved most fall to pieces one more time.

Wasn't he sick of this? Wasn't he done yet? How could he sit there and still love her with every atom of his body, without being utterly exhausted from all the drama she attracted? How could he not be seething with resentment for upturning his entire life, once again?

Did she ever even ask him how he felt? He wasn't a robot and he wasn't made to love her. He was a person, who deserved better than a half crazed girl, barely clinging to the sideline of sanity.

He deserved Yvonne, who was kind and sweet and pleasant and brilliant and had a family who loved and adored him, as if he was their own. Who didn't bring him down, who could be the loving, devoted girlfriend he needed. Who wasn't jaded or moody or nearly insane.

The brunette took several deep breaths, the thought of the dark skinned, raving beauty, almost forcing her stomach to upchuck all over the bed.

Yvonne always put a bad taste in her mouth now, and she didn't like to acknowledge it, even to herself. How could she be so jealous that she couldn't even bear the thought of another girl her boyfriend loved without feeling physically ill?

What was wrong with her?

Before she had the opportunity to say anything else, her cell saved her, ringing at the most opportune time.

Toby sighed before reaching for it, glancing at the caller ID. "It's your mom," he stated, clearly discontented with the abrupt ending to their conversation.

Taking the phone, caught completely off-guard by the call, she answered in an unsure tone. "Hello?"

"Honey," Veronica breathed, sounding like she wasn't sure if Spencer was alright before hearing her voice.

"Mom?" Spencer narrowed her eyes in confusion, peering at Toby who was as mystified as her. "What's wrong?"

There was silence on the other end and the brunette felt her stomach do a flip, anticipation churning inside her violently.

"Spencer, I heard about what happened. Both at that apartment and in town," Veronica finally stated, her voice now collected and level, though her daughter could feel something brewing underneath.

The twenty-three-year old bit her lip, unsure how to answer the elder woman. "Yes?" She finally offered, attempting to hold back the feeling of defiance building up inside her.

"That was one of the most irresponsible things you could have done," the woman scolded, sounding downright livid now. "What the hell were you thinking? The doctor told you to avoid big crowds and what did you do? Go seek them out-"

Spencer couldn't take it. Not now, not today. Not any day as of late. She couldn't handle being scolded and berated, for simply attempting to live. She went out into public twice. Only two attempts to do anything closely resembling a normal event and both had blown up miserably. Both had caused havoc and something deep inside of her shouted, through all the overwhelming emotions, through both the old and new scars, the pain and the anger and the resentment, something deep inside of her cried out that this wasn't fair.

She didn't deserve to be admonished because she chose to not hide out in a hotel room like a recluse.

She didn't deserve to be kicked out of society, for things she couldn't control. For PTSD she couldn't understand and that she didn't ask for.

And she didn't deserve to have to listen to this phone call, she decided.

Maybe it was cruel. Maybe it was downright selfish and compassionless. But she felt no regrets as she tapped the End Call button on her phone, cutting her mother off mid-sentence.

Witnessing the entire thing and sitting just close enough that he heard majority of it, Toby sighed deeply and reached to pull her closer.

"Are you still mad at me?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around her thin body, swaying her slightly.

Her earlier distress fled to the forefront of her brain at once. Swallowing hard, she murmured erratically, "I was never mad at you."

"Yes, you were," he corrected but his voice remained gentle. "I know when you're mad at me, Spence."

It was her turn to sigh now, willing herself not to get emotional. "It's stupid," she whispered as she pulled back.

"Nothing that upsets you could be stupid. To me, at least," he insisted but he could tell just by her eyes she wished he'd drop it.

"I know." She nodded, her eyes dropping to the bed underneath them.

There was a long silence that dragged on, straddling the line between awkward and uncomfortable and just downright unnatural.

Before either of them worked up the courage to break it, Toby's phone went off obnoxiously, screaming in contrast with the noiseless room.

Standing up clumsily, the cop narrowed his eyes as he took in name across his screen, just as Spencer had a few minutes prior. "Hello, Mrs. Hastings," he greeted, turning back around to face the brunette.

The second he said her mother's name, she was climbing to the edge of the bed, straining her ears to catch any of the conversation.

When she couldn't hear a thing, from the less than two feet distance between her and her boyfriend, Spencer's suspicions were peaked.

Since when couldn't she hear a phone that was barely two feet away?

Sensing her frustrations, Toby glanced at her and instantly obligated when she mouth 'speakerphone'.

". . .got to be rational about this, Toby. She isn't getting better. She's getting worse," her mother was saying and Spencer had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

It went deeper than just irritation at the fact that her mom believed so adamantly that she still belonged in the hospital. It was the fact that her mom heard everything secondhand and didn't even ask Spencer what had happened, from her own point of view.

The brunette had little doubts that it was her friends at the country club, possibly the same people who had actually been at Fiona's to witness her meltdown, that had filled Veronica in.

But how could her mother actually take their word at face value and not even ask Spencer why she went there? Why she was so tirelessly trying to suction her life back together? Didn't her mom care that she was searching for some semblance of normal? Or did the woman only care if Spencer made a public spectacle of herself?

Maybe she was being too harsh. Maybe she was on edge, for a million and twenty four different reasons. But whatever the motive, she felt like she was about to explode when Veronica kept talking.

"You need to get her to a therapist," the senator said. "A good one, that comes highly recommended." Toby glanced at Spencer, searching her face for her reaction. "Search for one in the area-"

"Mom," Spencer cut in. "I'm not going to a damn shrink."

"Toby, I called you," the woman reprimanded, her tone nearly one of betrayal, clearly taken aback to hear her daughter's voice.

"And you really thought you could have a private conversation with him, without my knowing? You overestimated the size of motel rooms," the brunette quipped, her voice without humor.

"Spencer-"

But she didn't give her mother a chance to finish. "You really thought you could go over my head? Tell my boyfriend to send me to a therapist, as if that'll solve all my problems? Is this your next step, after trying to keep me locked up in a hospital?" When her question, which was rhetorical, to be fair, was met with nothing but utter silence, she exchanged a confused glance with Toby. "Mom?"

"I think she hung up," the cop offered after another beat of silence.

"That's never good," she mumbled, too insulted to worry why the usually overly confrontational senator would end the call.

Toby's clear blue eyes watched her as she rolled onto her stomach again, burying her face inside one of the motel provided pillows.

Neither of them really knew where they stood at the moment. They hadn't had a fight—that almost would have been easier—but something went wrong and they still had yet to solve it.

Spencer sighed into the thin cushion, realizing none of her behavior had been fair to him and wishing more than anything she could shut off her brain for one day. Not receive any more flashbacks, not have self-deprecating thoughts that cause rifts between her and the man she loves most in this world, not have to deal with anything unpleasant. For once in her life she wanted to be happy and stay happy.

She didn't want to bring Toby down with her. She didn't want to hurt him or cause him this kind of duress any longer. She just wanted this to all be over and done with.

"I've had monsters under my bed for so long, that now that they're not there, I feel like I have to create them."

What she'd said to Alison still rang true and she wished more than anything she could change for Toby's sake, if for nothing else. She couldn't handle losing him again and she couldn't stand the hurt she was causing him.

She was so unfocused that she didn't even notice Toby had joined her on the bed until his hand began massaging the back of her head.

Groaning loudly, she peered up at him. "You should turn off your phone so my mom can't call back."

He gave her a look. "Spencer."

"If she can go days without checking in and then only bother after listening to a bunch of crap gossip about me, I don't think we're obligated to take her calls. Especially when she's acting like I'm insane and you need to get me under control."

"She's just trying to help," he murmured, sympathy for her mom leaking through. His hand found its way up her shirt and began massaging her bare back soothingly. "I know she sucks at showing it sometimes but she is trying her best-"

"Don't defend her," Spencer cut off, her voice not at all harsh. "Please, Tobes. Don't defend her right now."

"Okay," he said amicably, appreciating her softer tone after spending hours with her on edge. He leaned down to kiss her lower back before resuming the rubbing. "I love you. More than anything," he uttered after a moment. "You know that right?"

She chuckled indistinctly, thinking how ironic it was he was saying this even with no knowledge of why she was upset all afternoon. "I know," she whispered a moment later, because she did know. She knew that he must love her, a lot more than she'd ever truly been able to reconcile, in order to literally risk his life by running into that building, just to save her.

Just as it seemed he was about to say more, a knock interrupted them, much like the phone calls had too.

"Who is bothering us now?" Spencer complained through gritted teeth, as Toby peered out the peep hole.

A strange, almost comical, look cross his face before he turned back to look at her. "Your mother."

Before she could even process his words, there was another, more impatient knock, and acting completely on instinct, Spencer flung herself out of bed and tossed the door open.

"Mother," she greeted, looking at her, almost as if she were measuring her up for size.

Apparently the senator wasn't in the mood for greetings. "What is going on with you?" Veronica admonished as she moved her way into the room, as if she were entitled to their space.

"Excuse me?" Spencer shot back as Toby, in very much contrast with the two alpha females, shut the door quietly. "What's wrong with me? You haven't checked in on me once since I've been released and suddenly you think you have the right to scold me, like I'm six, for things I couldn't control?"

Guilt flashed across the senator's face for a split second before her eyes grew hard. "I had a lot of work to catch up on, Spencer. You, of all people, should understand that. You're in politics too. And your dad said he told you to call me."

"Dad told Toby that, not me, and last I checked, passing messages around secondhand doesn't count as caring."

"Of course I care, Spencer," the elder woman snapped, emphasizing the word like her daughter had become an imbecile overnight. "That's not the point-"

"What is your point here, then? To lecture me for having attacks in public? Is-"

"No," Veronica cut off sharply, and this time, her daughter waited for her to finish. "I'm here because clearly I'm not getting through to you over the phone and you need to see someone. Someone who can help you figure out this entire thing. Get the attacks under control. Help you get on with a normal, productive life."

There was a stretch of silence, where both Toby and her mother waited for her to say something, have some sort of reaction, relent or refute the suggestion but either way, do something.

Neither of them expected her to roll her eyes to the back of her head and mumble under her breath, "'get under control'", before breezing past both of them and heading towards the sink.

"Spence," Toby called as his eyes followed her movements. "What are you doing?"

"You were right, I need some fucking pills right now."

The senator's eyes widened with alarm and the cop couldn't amend her statement fast enough. "She's talking about over the counter painkillers for her headaches."

"She's having headaches?" Veronica repeated, somewhat baffled.

"She had them in the hospital too," Toby reminded, his voice reminiscent of Spencer's when she was talking down to someone. And then it become obvious she was starting to rub off on him when he couldn't resist adding, "Don't you remember?"

"Of course I remember, Toby," the elder woman quickly declared, shutting her eyes. "I just didn't know they were still occurring." Turning to look at the brunette, her movements slower now, Veronica stated, "This is even more of a reason you need to see someone."

Spencer took a deep breath before speaking. "Why?" She asked simply. "Because it would really do me any good or because you don't want the neighbors to talk about me anymore?"

"That is not the reason," her mother insisted sharply.

"Well I don't believe you really think it's going to improve my mental health or else you would have said it when I was in the hospital!" Spencer exclaimed, literally throwing her hands up. She may not have always had the best relationship with either of her parents but the one thing that had always been-and evidently still was-true, was the fact that she knew when they were lying. She knew when something wasn't right or when they had an ulterior motive behind their eyes. She knew that if her mom thought seeing a therapist was best for her, she would have thought of it a long time ago. "Mom, what aren't you telling me?"

"Fine," Veronica relented, her face still callous. "To put it blankly? If the cops come at you with any sort of allegations, it's not going to help your case that you have been a public spectacle and have reached out for zero help from any psychologist."

She knew it, she told herself. She knew that her mom wasn't pushing her to get help out of the kindness of her heart or out of motherly concern but for legal reasons. She knew it from the very moment the words left her mother's mouth.

But somehow it still stung and Spencer pretended to scratch at one of the cuts surrounding her eyes in order to hide the moisture, threatening to leak out.

Toby, though, recognized the cover up and moved right by her mother without a second thought. "Spence," he murmured, too quiet for Veronica to hear.

"I'm fine," she assured, her tone too quiet and too sugary to even begin to convince him.

Her mom didn't quite realize the depth of her daughter's emotions-then again, Toby's the only person who had ever realized Spencer's sensitivity-but still, her voice became considerably milder. "Honey, I told you once that most verdicts are decided in living rooms. I'm just thinking strategically. Take a preemptive strike. Avoid public places for a little while and see a therapist, and eventually we'll be able to put all this behind us."

"Us?" Spencer picked, her volume rising. "What do you mean, us?"

The senator looked taken aback by the inquiry. "I mean, all of us. You, me, Toby, your father and sister."

Somehow her frustration outweighed her self-preservation and she didn't try hiding any longer the crack in her voice or the wetness of her eyes. "We aren't going through this, mom. I am. You were not kidnapped and you have not been forced to live through flashes of that night. You're sanity isn't in question and last I checked, the cops aren't accusing you of anything, so don't act like we're all in this together, because we're not."

"Spencer-"

"I'm not going to see an effing therapist. Especially not to prove anything to the cops. So if that's all you came here for, the door is right there."

It was clear by the look on her face that Veronica wasn't used to being vetoed. For as long as Spencer could remember, what her mother said is what they did. Even with her lack of presence, she still controlled and dictated majority of things in both her daughters' lives.

Looking beyond her daughter, she eyed the cop standing behind her, somewhat warily. "You know, Doctor Barnes said it was your job to determine what was right for Spencer. Has the concept of therapy never crossed your mind, Toby?"

To both women's surprise, his response came out quick and even. "Not like this. I've never considered pressuring her into seeing someone to make her look better to a bunch of strangers. And I've never considered forcing her to do it unwillingly."

"Even if it were what's best for her?" Veronica pressed, her voice harder now.

"Do you know what's best for her?" Toby responded, his voice still just as gentle as before. It almost made it more difficult for the elder woman to swallow. Having a twenty-four-year old disagree with her and still keep his cool. "Honestly? Do you know what's best for Spencer or what's best for her case? Because I can promise you, forcing her to do something she adamantly doesn't want to do is the last thing that'll help her."

Oddly enough, as much as it baffled Veronica to hear him stand his ground, his words baffled Spencer more. How did he understand her better than her own mother? Neither Aria or Hanna could relate to this, as it was a no brainer that both Ashley and Ella understood them better than their respective guys. And that was fine. In fact, that was considered normal.

Males just don't get us, girls said all the time. No one understands me like my mom.

Somehow with Spencer, it was the exact opposite. And, for some reason, she felt lucky. There had been countless times in the past that she'd wished her mother was different. Countless times that she'd wanted to have the same level of connection and bond her friends all shared with their moms. Countless times she'd been overcome with jealousy when witnessing the relationship between her mother and Melissa.

How did Toby make up for everything she'd ever been deprived of, tenfold? How did he always manage to make everything feel alright, even just for a minute, even when she was so terrible to him? Even when she iced him out and punished him for things he didn't mean, for things he shouldn't be held responsible for?

How could someone love her so much when she felt like nothing short of an atomic bomb nearly every minute of the day?

"No one can guide us through this thing except Spencer," Toby was saying. "She is the one who this happened to. We have to trust her judgment. If we don't then she might as well still be locked up in that hospital."

She wanted to smack herself upside the head for snapping at him for defending her mom. He didn't deserve her irritation when all he'd tried to do was make things easier for her.

Apparently, Veronica had heard enough. "Alright, fine, Spencer." She shook her head, bordering on appalled. "You're an adult. You do whatever you like. If you say this isn't my mess, then I won't worry about it."

The moment her mom spoke, dread filled Spencer's stomach all over again and she suddenly didn't know how to feel.

How do you feel when your parent says they've thrown their hands up?

How do you feel when you essentially asked them to?

How do you feel when you realize that your own mother cannot figure out how to support you without controlling you?

How do you feel when you realize that the fault lines had been thrown around so many times, you don't even know who is to blame for how you got here?

She'd never been the ideal mother, Spencer reminded herself. Nannies had a large part in her upbringing and the only sort of affection she got was when she either was falling apart at the seams or when she proved herself worthy.

But at the hospital, after their heart to heart moment, she thought it might be different. She thought after everything, things might change. That maybe this tragedy would shift her mother's perspective a little.

It clearly had been in vain and as much as she would adamantly deny it aloud, Spencer couldn't help but realize that what she felt was crushed hope. She'd unconsciously let her guard down and hoped for once that things could change in a positive way.

She wanted to kick herself for allowing even an ounce of optimism to even form inside her.

As if he were a sign, Spencer felt a large hand come into contact with the small of her back, just as the door shut, signaling her mother's exit, and unconsciously she reached for him.

He easily lifted her up, pulling her tighter as her arms and legs both coiled around him. "I'm so sorry," she whispered as she buried her face into his neck.

"Spencer," he breathed, a slightly confused edge finding its way into his voice. "For what?"

"For taking you for granted. For not treating you the way you deserve." She allowed a couple of tears, more out of stress than anything else, to make their ways down her face and into the shoulder of his shirt.

"Oh, Spence," he chuckled, much to her surprise. His hand began rubbing from the middle of her back down to her thighs. "You don't get to apologize for anything right now. Not with the kind of stress you're under. I can't even imagine what this is like for you. I can't believe what you're going through and yet, you're still so strong. I am in complete awe of you, all day, every day. Okay, don't think that you need to ever apologize for having feelings."

It was her turn to laugh now. "I love you," she murmured, pulling back to look at his face. "You know that, right? You make me the luckiest girl alive."

And with her words, a light filled his eyes that led her to believe he knew what she meant. That he knew what it meant to feel that kind of love that changed even the bleakest circumstances for the better. That he loved her, just as hopelessly and selflessly and tragically as she loved him. That she was just as much as a part of him as he was her.

That he would love her no matter what else happened. No matter what the future held. No matter what else came to light.

No matter what she did.

[guiltipanda]

Get ready, this is gonna be long!

Context: A while ago I got an anonymous review on one of my fics.

Now, I’m not here to complain about negative reviews. I don’t need to; I consider myself lucky that the reviews/comments I get are almost always respectful and positive. I also welcome constructive criticism. And I could tell--or at least I thought--that the person was trying to offer constructive criticism. However, I deleted this review because, after reading it carefully a few times and giving it some thought, I decided the review was not constructive or critical.

Recently, I was reading another fic, and I happened to glance at the reviews, and I noticed a review eerily similar to the one that I deleted from my story. It was also anonymous. The formatting was similar. The complaint was the same, and the words used to express the complaint were the same.

The complaint was basically this: You are writing Romano OOC, because if Romano was in character then Prumano would never happen, because Romano hates Germans. He even said he felt gloomy after spending time with Prussia.

(Both reviews were much longer than this, and the one I received had several other complaints also of little to no merit, but this is the point I’m going to focus on.)

If this review was posted by the same person who reviewed my story, that means this person has read at least two stories, both plainly tagged as Prumano, to complain about a pairing that they clearly don’t like. And, just....why?? Why would you do that? Why would you waste your time?? I don’t understand.

Let’s skip over the part where I tell you that you’re an idiot if you think your opinion of a ship can and should stop people from shipping it and writing fanfiction about it and get to the larger point I want to make.

My Point:

This isn’t really about just one review. This keeps happening. A lot of people just really don’t like Prumano. Which is fine. I don’t care. Ship whatever you like. But I kind of pride myself on being able to write characters, especially my favorite characters, honestly, and there are some things I want to say about Romano’s relationship with Prussia.

Romano hates Germans. We all know this. I don’t even have to provide evidence for this. You know. You don’t have to tell me. I know. Telling me as if I don’t know (and as if I didn’t address this multiple times in the story you claim to have read) is just annoying.

The reason Romano hates Germans is due to his history. The Roman Empire fought with the nearby German tribes constantly (one of many reasons why they paid more attention to the north than the south) and when the Roman Empire fell the German tribes invaded (which is why Veneziano has German blood in him). And also there’s Italy’s relationship with Germany throughout the world wars, but let’s not get in to that. We’d be here forever.

Prussia, though, stands out from the rest of Germany. Romano’s relationship with him reflects this.

We don’t see any interaction between Romano and Prussia when Romano was young and living at Spain’s house, but Himaruya has said that Romano didn’t like him and was afraid of him (prooobably because he was German, and also beginning to jump into a lot of fights with other countries). [x] This changes as Romano gets older and interacts with Prussia more.

The instance where Romano said he felt gloomy after associating with Prussia was in the 2011 Christmas Event [x]. And I kind of just have to laugh at the fact that this person pointed that out, because 1) This comes after a comic strip where we see Prussia and Romano interacting that clearly shows that Romano doesn’t hate being around Prussia--they’re having a normal conversation, Romano isn’t being mean or verbally abusive towards him--and 2) Romano felt “gloomy”?? That’s your big definitive proof that Romano hates Prussia? The guy who has some of the most creative and colorful profanities for people he actually hates says he feels gloomy!! Jesus... And 3) Romano is tsundere. He’s also more on the tsun side unless he’s around women. He never even says a nice word about Spain, it’s only by his actions that you can tell he actually likes someone he isn’t blatantly flirting with. And how does Romano act around Prussia? None of their interactions suggest that Romano hates Prussia.

Granted, their appearances are few, and their appearances together are even fewer. But don’t try to insinuate I don’t know the characters or don’t know the canon or I’m doing something wrong just because you don’t like the ship I like.

I was gonna go more into a character analysis sort of thing and maybe even talk about the history of these two countries, but this is already really long, so maybe I’ll do that some other time.