#as in the reason is upsetting! but has nothing to do with the archive

[draconicace]

the internet archive got hacked... as always with things like this it's best to have a healthy amount of doubt about claims from the people who did it (well. claimed to do it anyway). reasons given can sometimes be false and to make certain groups look bad in a little roundabout way

[agender-witchery]

On Project Moon

Hey, this is gonna be long, I'm putting most of it under the cut. This post is about the recent firing of VellMori from Project Moon, I know that it warrants some tags for triggers, but I have no idea what's commonly used, so if I miss something, please tell me.

Additionally, I have written this up in a way that if it escapes the target audience of Project Moon fans, it can still be understood, so with that in mind, there will be Library of Ruina spoilers.

The tl;dr for those who don't wanna read the full thing is that Project Moon was put in a very bad position with some violent extremists targeting them and that I'm not happy about any of what happened.

So, for those unaware, Project Moon has fired VellMori, the CG artist for Limbus Company. Now, a not inaccurate statement that can be made from this is "Project Moon fired a woman for being a feminist" but this is... somewhat reductive. Let's immediately get out of the way that VellMori did absolutely nothing wrong. Some people have said she is a TERF. I've seen no evidence of this. Some people have said she wished death on all men. I've seen no evidence of this.

What I HAVE seen is that VellMori thinks sexual abuse is bad. Now, why would this lead to a firing? The short answer is that a bunch of violent incels, one of which was literally dressed as a clown, came knocking at their office doors.

See, Limbus Company has a "beach" event coming up. In this event, we are getting a water themed outfit for two of the characters, one male and one female. For Sinclair, the guy, he has been given an EXTREMELY slutty mechanic's outfit. For Ishmael, the woman, she has been given a very skintight wet suit outfit. Now, I wanna take care to note that VellMori is the CG artist - she had no hand in these designs, a man made them. I would also like to mention that both outfit designs are amazing, and I will be including them at the end of this post for reference.

Now, upon revealing the wet suit design for Ishmael, a bunch of whiny incels on what is basically Korean 4chan got upset that Ishmael, instead of being in a bikini as is usual for gacha games, was wearing a wet suit. Nevermind that the designs in Limbus Company have always been conservative and that the Sinclair design is the most skin we've ever seen and it's just an open shirt. Again, the wet suit is still super revealing, it's skin tight and this is literally the first design of her that doesn't make her look flat chested. They're not rioting over the lack of sex appeal, they're specifically mad that it's not a bikini.

The incels come to the conclusion that the lack of any skin being shown on Ishmael's outfit is a result of evil feminism. No, I'm not exaggerating. They initially begin harassing the artist who is actually responsible for drawing the outfits, but upon learning that he is a man, set their sights on VellMori because she's a woman, and being an artist is good enough I guess. What they do from here is they start digging and digging and digging on VellMori's twitter, making use of archived pages because many of the "offensive" tweets had been deleted.

I'd like to take a moment to point out that VellMori never actually tweeted anything out here - it was all retweets from a 4-6 year old archive, and retweets that have been long deleted. These retweets contain such transgressive statements as "I'm sick of misogyny" and "If being against patriarchy makes me antisocial, then so be it" and just... mirroring back to men what those men were saying to women. Some people would like to have you think she was calling for death to all men. She wasn't. She ALSO retweeted all this stuff while she was a teenager and well before she worked for Project Moon.

Nonetheless, the incels had decided that feminism was the reason Ishmael had a wet suit and not a bikini and they had found a feminist working for Project Moon. It is at this point that we must take a brief detour and talk about Library of Ruina, Project Moon's previous game.

See, in Library of Ruina, one of the protagonists, Angela, has this whole arc about escaping her abuser and becoming a human. Yes, she is literally a robot, but Project Moon isn't exactly a stranger to symbolism in their stories and a feminist reading of Angela is ridiculously easy. The main antagonist in Library of Ruina is Argalia, the Blue Reverberation, and his crew is called the Reverberation Ensemble. Every member of the Reverberation Ensemble is a violent lunatic who each want to reinforce the status quo in their own unique shitty way. In addition to this, typically in order to reach the titular Library, you would need to be invited. The Reverb Ensemble are the "uninvited guests", the ones who managed to reach the Library and knock down the door without an invite.

Why am I talking about this? Well, the incels decided to start calling themselves the Reverb Ensemble, and referring to each other using names of the Reverb Ensemble members such as Pluto, Elena, and Oswald. Having taken on the moniker of the uninvited guests, they then showed up to Project Moon's office to protest. Over the lack of a bikini. Now, remember how I mentioned someone was dressed up as a clown? One of the Reverb Ensemble members, Oswald, is a clown with an extremely tenuous grip on reality. So much so, that his ideal world is one in which there is no meaning whatsoever. That is the character they chose to dress up as. This is either a case of extreme self awareness or extreme self unawareness.

Eventually, the incels were let into the office possibly as a form of damage mitigation to prevent the crowd of protestors from getting any bigger. This was a questionable decision, but they had a group of violent incels at their doorstep either way, and I don't exactly have full details on this. Regardless, Project Moon had on their hands a group of violent protesting incels, who they felt compelled to let into the building, and who had demands including the firing of their feminist employee. (7/28 update: a translation of the transcript posted to DCInside has surfaced. Please check the reblogs for it. Project Moon was verifiably threatened.)

So while "Project Moon fired a woman for being a feminist" isn't inaccurate it also isn't the full picture. More appropriately, it'd be "Project Moon fired a woman because a group of violent incels who weren't satisfied with a form fitting wet suit instead of a bikini showed up to their office demanding that an artist who did not make the wet suit design be fired because she retweeted some feminist stuff 5 years ago while she was a teenager".

I'm not happy with this. None of this is good. People are allowed to be feminists, and Project Moon stories have always presented progressive ideas to anyone with half a brain to do some basic literary analysis. I can understand why they would cave to the demands of people who were threatening them and showed up to their actual place of work, but at the same time, that's someone's livelihood gone and proof that in the future, the same sorts of people can use the same sorts of tactics to bully Project Moon into doing whatever they want. All of this sucks.

For those who would like to see the retweets in question alongside translations: https://twitter.com/danghwangs/status/1683884236888223744

And for people who would like reference as to what the artworks these incels were up in arms about, Ishmael in the wet suit and Sinclair in the mechanic's outfit.

[historicallyaccuratecheese]

I know this isn’t very in line with the usual “haha magnus archives worm lady” posts I usually make, but this is very important to me and I want to spread as much awareness as possible.

One of my favorite games of all time is Dead Cells, a fantastic indie roguelike developed by Evil Empire. Recently, it was announced that it’s upcoming 35th update would be the last one for the game. Now, let me start off by saying that on its own, this isn’t what I’m upset about. The fact that Dead Cells has gotten as much support as it has over the years is quite frankly incredible, and 35 updates, most of which have been free and very high quality, is an amazing amount of support. Rather, I am more concerned about the circumstances behind this announcement.

The announcement was…off, for a number of reasons. For one, Update 35 has been in Alpha and Beta on Steam for a while now, and it’s not exactly an update you’d expect the entire game to end on. Still quality, but not exactly a “grand finale.” Also strange was how long it’s been in alpha and beta, as it seems to have been in development hell for over six months. And finally, it’s clear that there was so much more planned for the game. For example, 2023 was said to be the biggest year for the game, and yet we only got two updates. Granted, one of those updates was very big, but not nearly big enough to really live up to the title of “biggest year so far.” By all accounts, it definitely seemed like there was some sort of internal issue that cut the planned lifespan of the game short. If so, that would be very unfortunate, but I would have been willing to accept there was probably nothing that could be done. However, recently some information about what actually happened has shown up, and….yeah I’m pissed.

For those who didn’t know, Dead Cells was originally made by a team named Motion Twin, but after the fourth update, most of the people working on the game left to form their own team, Evil Empire. Evil Empire has developed every update for the game since that split, and yet, they are rarely credited as the makers. Motion Twin is the company that promotes all of the new updates, as if they made them, and unfortunately very few people know which company actually makes the game. Recently, Motion Twin announced a new game called Windblown (proclaiming it was made by the same team as Dead Cells, when it certainly wasn’t), and based on recent interviews with Evil Empire, we learn that Motion Twin pulled the plug on Dead Cells against Evil Empire’s wishes. Evil Empire loved making the game, and planned to continue updating into 2025, expanding the gameplay and lore, yet Motion Twin decided to pull the plug, either to promote Windblown (which if so…why? You can have two games?), or simply out of spite towards Evil Empire, which seems unfortunately possible due to the fact that the devs do not seem to have the best relationship. And to add insult to insult to injury, Motion Twin straight up lied by saying that Dead Cells stopped development because they “don’t want the game to feel bloated”. ….THEY DON’T EVEN MAKE THE GAME WHAT THE HELL?!

So yeah…this is a really terrible situation. Dead Cells is a game that means a lot to me, it’s helped me through some very tough times and there are many other people who hold the game dear to their heart. So please, anything from a simple reblog to making your own posts about the matter goes a long way. Spread awareness about what’s going on. Tell people about how Evil Empire has put so much hard work, love and dedication into the game, and wishes to continue. Tell people about the lies that Motion Twin have been telling. Pressure the two teams into splitting away from each other entirely, so that Dead Cells might get a chance at continuing development. (Be respectful about it though, don’t commit any forms of serious harassment.) It would seriously mean a lot to me and many others, and I would greatly appreciate it :).

[starberry-cupcake]

We are done with book 1, folks!!!

previously, in gideon the ninth

this happened

also, I was proven right about dulcinea (kind of)

just pointing that out again

final update of this book, it's gonna be a bit of a long one, folks (gideon, from inside my mind, where she is now living rent-free: "that's what she said!"):

we left off in the fight against not!dulcinea

yandere simulator twin w/inner chad was being used as a battery pad

regina george twin is at an unknown location

la gideon and my qp wife are fighting

harrowcita passed out

so basically not!dulcinea unlocks the big magnus archives entity monster harrowbean had previously locked

harrow wakes up to make a bone dome

for scale, this is the dome and mickey is gideon, but she's inside the thing

magnus archives junji ito monster keeps beating the dome from outside to crack it open like an egg

harrowbean starts to disintegrate from the inside because it's hard to make a bone spaceship earth and keep it up

camilla is accepting fate at this point, my poor beloved qp wife

but la gideon is not gonna give up

she's never gonna give you up

never gonna let you down

never gonna...

so harrow starts making a goodbye speech

reminding gideon to take care of the ninth and the barbie in the freezer

for the barbie reference, please go to this recap

but gideon is determined to come up with a plan

*very niche reference but "bien warrior" by miss bolivia plays in the background*

we all know this is a terrible idea because gideon's plans are always "punch really hard" and, in this case, that's a wild thing to do

but she does that

a metal version of that

she decides to, if I understand correctly (because description is scarce for various acceptable reasons) impale herself on the iron spikes inside the dome, to force Harrow to slurp her soul

so this is the situation

absolutely heartbreaking stuff

she's sort of ghost-placing herself behind Harrow to guide her using the sword

like this

and being all silly and gideon-esque and harrow is heartbroken and sad and it's all very very heartbreaking and I'm suffering

I'm ANGRY, OK????

IT'S NOT FAIR

I didn't even like gideon at the start

I complained about her for like a good first chunk of this book

I got mad at her for being dense and not following through with things

I got angry at her way of approaching situations and trusting people I didn't trust

I didn't totally vibe with her vibe most times

and then she made me like her and grow attached and NOW I HAVE TO SUFFER???

what's the point????? you make me like you and then you SACRIFICE YOURSELF?????

WHY??????

footage of me

anyway, it's fine, we're fine, everything's FINE

harrow and force-ghost gideon defeat not!dulcinea by aiming at the "issue" palmolive started

( @lady-harrowhark "paramedics" is actually a much better nickname, why didn't I think of that)

not!dulcinea crosses the veil, hopefully forever, good riddance bitch, you really did fuck everything up for petty reasons

harrow passes out

afterwards, harrow wakes up in like a sort of hospital situation or something like that

the space version of that

there's a man reading stuff in a tablet and a paper

a "flimsy", which I didn't know was something before this book (again, not a native English speaker, doing my best here)

the man has very specific eyes which I imagined in a way that I'm not sure is what it's supposed to be, but I'm gonna keep my version for now

this is the man of the hour, the emperor, many other titles I can't remember, the reason we all got together in the first place

harrow is upset, I'm upset, we're all upset

emperor sama over here can't do shit about it

according to him

which, what are you, the wizard of oz?

he's also like "forgive not!dulcinea, it was my bad" I WILL FORGIVE NOTHING

he says he can't bring gideon back without risking harrowbean as well

very limited for a man who claims to be god

who seems to have beef with a barbie in an ice cube

idk about this guy

so he tells harrow that he's gonna protect the ninth if she becomes lyctor because the universe is going to shit and he can't handle everything on his own anymore

you know what could have helped, my man? COMMUNICATION

WE DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING AT ANY GIVEN POINT

anyway, harrow is, at this point, tired and sad and grieving for everything so she says ok

according to this guy, the only other survivor is yandere simulator twin w/inner chad who is missing an arm

very convenient for him, who needs lyctors

an didn't, at any point, explain anything

but they "haven't been able" to find the bodies of: la gideon, my wife and regina george twin

everyone else was, at least, partially recovered, as far as I remember he said

they're probably gathering pieces of palmolive from every carpet and piece of wallpaper

I am reluctantly gonna miss that guy

so there is hope that I'm not a qp widow yet and that la gideon might come back in some capacity, which I MEAN, COME ON

also, I don't know if people would be making such a fuss about her arms if her body wasn't of consequence anymore

because I don't know much about these books but I did know that coming in, that and skull make up were my two clues

and we still don't know where she came from and if she's a demigod

and why her hair and eyes are that color

I don't know, I'm unsure about this

I hold hope

keeeeeeep hoooooolding ooooooon ♪

I am sure regina george twin will be back because people have been cryptic about her in replies to my updates

and I hope camilla comes back because right now I'm like a victorian wife, standing at a lighthouse, waiting for her sailor to come back from the depths of the sea, throwing messages in bottles

final extra notes:

THERE WAS A GLOSSARY ALL ALONG

I COULD HAVE BEEN LOOKING AT IT

maybe it was better this way, though, but WHY DIDN'T I LOOK PROPERLY

PALMOLIVE WOULD KILL ME FOR THIS OVERSIGHT

now I know what thanergy is, what thalergy is, what bone magic and flesh magic differ in, can you believe???

I can summon my own construct and everything

it's the only way to make friends as an adult, after all

there is a guide for the names and I have been pronouncing more things right than I thought because many of these are based in Latin and I'm a Spanish speaker so maybe if I had just pronounced them as they sounded to me I could have remembered more names

there is also a list of salseo/tea from judith

I kept making comments while reading them

she was acting like camilla was of no consequence from the start

ALSO PROTOZOA HAD KIDS?????? WHAT????

man, poor dude, rip this guy we never really knew

she did read chad for filth, which is correct

but they were off about absolutely everything else

important ending commentary of the book:

as an ending side note

I'm going to just point this out, with kindness and utmost respect

like, much love and respect and warm regards

don't kill me for this

as an editor

I am enraged with the tagline they have in the cover of this book, now that I've finished it

the quote that's in the cover about lesbian necromancers in a victorian mansion in space and whatnot

it sells the book incredibly short and also tells you things you shouldn't be told because a) they aren't as clear cut as they make them out to be and b) you should be told none of that entering this book

best experience is to know absolutely nothing

like gideon

and since I have an ebook, I see that quote more prominently than any blurb

it reads like the short summary of a fic and it doesn't do it justice one bit

now that I've finished the book, I think this post was about it and I didn't know at the time, because that's fair

this book is very difficult to categorize because it seems to be using a lot of different references and mixing them together in a very personal and unique way to the author

but, because of that, it's a very unique take on different things

I think it stands very aligned with both core classics and more contemporary foundations, at the same time

and the narrative point of view is a bit at-odds with the complexity of the lore, which makes it a very brave first part of a bigger thing for an author to throw out there

and it works, as it is

it actually works well like that

however, as difficult as it can be to explain it, that tagline really flattens it to something that I don't think favors how much more of that it is???

I don't know, that's just my personal & professional opinion, but anyway

I need to go find the next one

you haven't seen the last of me!!!!!

[yellowcry]

Lay all your love on me

Mariano didn't really love the one her was betrothed for. But the idea of upsetting his family was just too much

@encantober-official prompt - Poetry

AHHH ITS HERE ITS TIME

Looking back, his relationship with Isabela were always stiff. Mariano was a huge romantic, dreaming about someone to cradle in his arm and swoop off their feet. Someone elegant and gracious. But it was never like this around her. As much as Isabela was beautiful and majestic. It never felt real. Mariano wasn't even attracted to her to begin with. There was someone else he loved. But he got nervous. Made a mistake. And then his Mamá was so happy her boy wanted to ask Isabela Madrigal out. Señorita who's skin was delucate and soft like flower petals, who was everyone's dream.

And Isabela agreed. Mariano just... He couldn't break her heart. It wasn't right and he knew it, but he wasn't able to do anything. He wanted Isabela to be happy. And if she loved him, it wouldn't be very gentleman of Mariano to break her heart. So he swallowed his own feelings. His family wanted this marriage, it would bring them a huge honour. And she adored it so much. It... it just was wrong to break her heart. Everyine expected Mariano to marry Isabela, so what could he do? 

Sometimes, just for a second, when nobody looked, Isabela woupd flinch. Or her face would lose its graceful smile. For just a second. Before the Madrigal rose returned to who she always was. An elegant angel. Something inside Mariano pinged with guilt. Worried that he accidentally made her uncomfortable. So he pulled away. A gentleman must treat his woman (even if he didn't actually love her) with all respect on the world. 

He forced himself to look at Isabela, try to admire her like everyone expected him to. Even if he didn't feel that sparkle within his soul. When their dates feel so stiff that each of them could as well talk to the trees. And probably get way more of an actual conversation from it. It feels awkward. Nothing like the romance in his books. But again, how could he judge? Books always had mutual feelings. And even if Isabela was beautiful, Mariano didn't actually love her this way. But the idea of breaking her heart was so gutwretching. So what if Mariano has to live with soneone he loves, who is the one he longs for. But not being bethoded to her, just watching from the side. So close but out of reach.

When he wrote poetry he desperately tried not to think about whom he loved. But he couldn't help it. And felt so awful. Would it be considered cheating? He didn't want to be a bad husband. Even if he didn't love Isabela romantically, he wanted the best for her. And he wanted to be a decent partner even if she wasn't the one he loved. Mariano would train himself. Create a perfect marriage his family wanted. He was supposed to be an example for his siblings and cousins. This felt like a Shakespeare story, kiving somebody so much but never enough. 

Dolores is his everything.   

Now, after that engagement was broken, Mariano didn't have to date someone he doesn't have feeling for.  And the most ridiculous part of their relationship was that apparently Mariano was wrong about 'Breaking Isabela's heart' As it turned out she agreed to date him for exactly the same reason Mariano dated her. It was family pressure. They laughed so hard when they talked about it, the situation was so ridiculous it didn't feel real. As apparently they were the biggest idiots in the world.

But, with Dolores, Mariano loves her greatly. In burning words that spill onto the paper. He doesn't have to force himself to write for so long his eyes get eyebags. It just flowing naturally. He doesn't have to force himself like it's some chore. Because Mariano in fact wanted to write for Dolores. She filled his heart with such awful joy. Just looking into her eyes made him the happiest man on Earth. It hust feels free. They ran over the town, laighing. Cuddle together. Mariano didn't feel like he had to force himself just to make his family happy. Because this time, he was dating because he was in love. Not wanted to make his family happy, he simply loved Dolores. More than anyone else. She was like a muse. A star that came down from the sky, blindingly bright. So he could whisper his most secretive dreams to her. And turn them alive. 

And Dolores loved him back. With a hot heart. Not pretending into awkward dates where either wished for nothing more than escape. But a genuiely happy situation for them both. And now, Mariano hoped it would last forever. They spent every moment like the last in their lives. Every line Mariano wrote Dolores met with a dreamy look in her eyes. Full of adoration and passion to match him.

He could stand in the plaza, reading poetry for hours, and Dolores would look like she was bursting with adoration. She loved every word the paper had whispered. So Mariano couldn't stop. And luckily, one look into his muse's eyes was enough to inspire him. Make him detemined to see those sparkles deep inside again and again. So they would burn bright like stars above their heads. 

[miliamin1]

Enid gets woken up more harshly than usual. Brutally snatched out of a sweet dream. Her mumbling protests are ignored as she resists getting pulled from under her colorful covers. Wednesday has her up in some wrestling move so that if she doesn’t attempt to stand, prompted up on the smaller girl  she would end up awkwardly on the floor. And so she barely stands as the world seems to be spinning and her muscles weak.

She puts more effort to open her aching eyes and commandeer her dried out tongue after seeing the hour. "Weeends, stooop, it's early, nothing can be that urgent."

Wednesday instantly throws her back on the bed. Enid almost bounces off of it when landing.

Enid groans from her head spiking in pain. But closing eyes only makes restless anxiety in her muscles more apparent instead of providing any relief. She opens them and squints at her phone.

Not only is it early but classes also got canceled, with pack group chat she lurks in blowing up with relief about that announcement.

Why the heck would Wednesday wake her up then?

"Wends, we got no classes today." 

No answer. 

When she picks her head up the goth seems to be back in bed.

But her heartbeat hasn't slowed to nothing.

Enid groans getting up and makes her unbalanced shuffle to the dark side. "Wends, is something wrong?"

"I'm not answering any questions or touching you until I get my coffee," the pretty corpse says gravelly.

Enid’s eyebrows knit together. The seer has been mighty grumpy from her caffeine withdrawal but only got short with everyone but Enid because of it yesterday. 

This change is upsetting. More than the awful state Enid’s body is in for some reason.

Enid flinches at the ping sound notifying of Yoko's message.

' Yo, do u mayhaps know how to witness protect Kate from all the furs?'

Kate isn't really popular amongst werewolves but why would she need-

Enid blinks rapidly. 

Kate.

Dinner chaos.

Coffee deal. Enid lunges for her shoes and jumps out of the dorm still putting them on. Then bounces herself off from the balustrade to sprint back again for her wallet. 

She desperately needs to buy coffee the fastest she can. 

Coffee for a kiss. Another kiss. Oh Goddess Wednesday kissed her! And will kiss her again if she will get her an iced quad! 

Enid has to thunder back to their room again. She needs a way for the drink to survive a full speed run! Her hand hesitates for a beat over the black thermocup she gifted the goth.

"It's clean," Wednesday says, so Enid grabs it and tries to leave by the door one last time.

Before she realizes that jumping off their balcony will be much faster as she almost breaks their window.

None of the few seconds she spends in the air is spent on premature realization on how much absorbing the force of the landing will affect her headache. 

----

okay so apparently a one shot is now a two shot

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 8

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 7

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhor

e @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Swearing, smoking, smut, fingering, praise/degradation, unprotected sex, squirting, mentions of commitment

Word Count: 5.6k

Divider by @strangergraphics-archive

Part 8: Two of Hearts

Wednesday, March 22nd, 1989

A couple days have gone by, and you're spending the afternoon studying on the couch. Books and flashcards are splayed out all around you, and you're deep in concentration. Eddie has stayed over every night so far, but he has a shift almost every day this week so he always has to leave after breakfast to go home and change. The clock on the wall tick tick ticks the minutes away, you prefer the absolute quiet when you study. Music helps with assignments for some strange reason, but it's nothing other than a distraction when you cram for exams. It's like you're compelled to sing and dance along to the music, which makes it difficult to pound information into your head.

Mom called again this morning, just for a short check-in. She figured telling you all the details of how much fun everyone is having would just make you upset, which isn't an unfair assumption. She sounded far less sad on the phone than she did on Monday night though, so she kinda clued you in to all the good times you were missing out on anyway. You try to not let it bother you, focusing on your flashcards. You struggle to stay on task however, your eyes darting to the phone on the table in front of you every so often. Chrissy hasn't called back yet, and with each passing day, you worry she never will. You bite your lip, wanting that phone to ring so badly. You're startled as Eddie comes walking in the front door, breaking you out of your anxious trance.

"Honey, I'm home!" He says in a sing-song voice, kicking off his shoes. You turn your head to meet his gleeful smile, and he slowly makes his way over to you. He leans down, planting a warm kiss to your lips. "And how's my little bookworm doing?" He asks, looking you over. Your hair is in a messy bun atop your head, and you're still in pajamas as you don't have anywhere else to be today.

"I'm alright, my brain is absolutely fried, though." You pinch the bridge of your nose, a stress tick Eddie has taken notice of over the last few weeks.

"Well, how 'bout you take a small...study break? We still haven't tried out your present, ya know. I'd have half a mind to be offended, if we haven't already been fucking like bunnies." He bites his lip, stroking your cheek to tempt you. Your eyes flutter closed at his touch, you may have been looking forward to Eddie coming home for a very specific reason.

"I suppose I can call it a day, I've been at it for hours. Clearly, I can't absorb any more vocab words or facts about mitochondria." With that, he helps you mark your place in all your books, and binds your flashcards in a rubber band before handing them to you. "Thank you, darling." You stack everything neatly on the coffee table, not planning to open anything back up until Eddie leaves for work again in the morning. You stand together, unable to resist draping your arms around his shoulders as his hands grip your waist. They quickly find their way to your ass, squeezing your flesh roughly through your shorts. "Did you miss me that much? You've barely been home for five minutes and you're already copping a feel." You giggle, teasingly poking the tip of his nose with your tongue.

"Sorry for making you wait, I'd planned on doing it as soon as I walked in the door." Eddie kisses you hungrily, breaking apart a moment later once he's stolen your breath away. He looks deep into your eyes, enchanting you as your heart begins to race. "And to answer your question, I always miss you. Every second we're apart, I just wanna come running right back." His lips capture yours once more before you can respond, lighting that familiar, primal fire in your belly. You clumsily walk backwards down the hall to your room, bumping into the walls multiple times as you don't want to stop kissing for a single second.

You stumble into the bedroom, letting Eddie push you against the open door. His hands grope your chest, teasing your nipples through your shirt. He lowers his head to mark your neck with love bites. "Fuck, Eddie. I need more, and I need out of these clothes." You whine as his teeth bite down on your skin harshly, tugging on his thick locks. He groans against you, meeting your eyes.

"Anything you want, princess." He replies breathlessly, pulling at the hem of your shirt. You lift your arms, allowing him to remove it with ease. Your tits bounce as they're freed from the thin fabric, making his eyes boggle. You lift his own shirt upwards, trying to strip him down too. He helps you take it off, discarding it to the floor. He tries to start attacking your breasts, but you reach for his belt to keep undressing him. "Someone's getting ahead of herself." He quips, just watching as you frantically unzip his jeans. He pulls them down along with his boxers, kicking them off his feet. As he does so, you remove your shorts, exposing the rest of your perfect body to him. You glance at his hardened cock, noting the precum gathered on his tip. "See something you want, angel?" He asks, standing very close to you again. His erection pokes against your stomach, leaving a wet streak on your skin.

"I want you inside me so badly, baby. You wanna feel how wet I am for you?" You say seductively, batting your eyelashes at him. He reaches a hand between your legs, his breath hitching as his fingers meet your slick folds. You moan at his touch, leaning against the door as he continues to stroke you. You take his length in your grip, pumping him at an agonizing pace. He groans, eyes burning into yours as you continue to touch each other. "You said something about testing out my present? You wanna grab it for me, Eds?" You speak as innocently as you can, taking your hand off of his dick.

He just nods, grinning as he always does. He's been waiting for this moment for at least a week. Ever since he first hatched the idea, he's wanted nothing more than to use every single page in that little book. Eddie quickly grabs the box from your bedside table, placing it in your hands. You bite your lip eagerly, opening the box and taking the booklet and D20 out. "Do you want to roll it on the dresser? I figure there's more space for it to move properly that way." You heed his advice, the two of you standing in front of the chest of drawers and watching your reflections in the mirror. Eddie stands behind you, holding your hips gingerly.

You set the book down, holding the die in your palm. The glitter inside it catches the light, as if to tell you just how much it longs for you to finally use it. You conceal it in your hands, holding them together tightly as you shake it. Eddie's eyes are trained on you, observing your every move. You let the die clatter to the surface below you, watching it turn on its sides frantically. Your heart pounds in anticipation, waiting to see what the die will land on. It slowly bounces to a stop, and you gaze at the number displayed before you. Fifteen. "I was hoping you'd get that one first. Wanna open the book to see which one it is?" His lips brush against your neck again, heating up your skin as he speaks to you.

You take the book in your hands, flipping to the fifteenth page. Your eyes widen at the illustration he drew for you, with the title 'Siren's Song' in elegant script at the top. "Oh, my God." Is all you can manage to say, before whipping around to face Eddie. He's about to say something smart when you smash your mouth against his, clashing your teeth as you desperately shove your tongue in his mouth. You put your hands on his bare chest, leading him to the bed. The backs of his knees hit the edge, causing him to fall onto it. His lips part from yours, and he leans back on his palms.

"Shall I get in position, love?" He asks, grinning at your lustful expression.

"Yes, please." You reply, almost whining. The image from the book has set your insides ablaze, and you want to try to imitate it as best you can. Eddie sits on his knees with his legs pressed together, holding his arms out for you to join him. You climb onto the bed, turning your back to him as you straddle his thighs. Your legs spread wide and bend at the knees on either side of him, and his cock is resting against your ass as you press your back to his chest. Eddie's right hand grips your hip, while his left reaches around you to rub your clit. "Eddie." You moan, letting your head fall backwards as sensation begins to take over. His fingers continue to wind you up, he's taking his time.

"I love it when you say my name, baby. Your noises are so beautiful, and so fuckin' dirty." His breath fans over you, turning you on further. You just want him to fuck you already, you're feeling painfully impatient. It truly doesn't take much for him to get you going, especially when you're about to try a brand new position. His fingers slide into you with ease, brushing against your g spot. You moan right into Eddie's ear, feeding him every little sound to make his dick twitch. It seems to work, and he fingers you faster. He wants to rev you up to a point where you're begging him to fuck you. The pitiful tone of your voice when you plead is so intoxicating. "You like it when I finger you, slut? Do you want more?" He speaks lowly, his nose brushing against your cheek as he teases you.

"You feel so good, love. But I want your cock inside me. Please?" There it is, those magic words he's been waiting to hear. He takes his fingers out of you, sucking them clean between his lips. He moans at the taste, and you just watch in awe of him. You lift yourself up, letting Eddie drag his length against your clit and needy hole. He positions his tip at your entrance, leading you to slowly sink down onto him. You moan together as he fills you up perfectly, and your cunt hugs him just the way he likes.

"God, you're so tight, baby." Eddie grunts as he's fully sheathed inside you. You're taking a moment to adjust, this is an entirely new angle for you. His tip is kissing your cervix, he feels deeper than he's ever been. "Take your time, sweetheart. You're in full control here, whenever you're ready." He coos at you, kissing your neck lovingly. His hands sit at your hip and your breast, stroking you gently as your insides relax. You gradually lift yourself up, before sinking right back down onto him.

"Oh, fuck!" You cry out, reaching behind you to hold Eddie's neck for support. He's so close to you, you can feel his heartbeat in your back. This position is surprisingly comforting to you, he's letting you control your pleasure while keeping you safe in his embrace. You see now why he hoped you'd roll for this one, it's simultaneously mind-blowing and intimate in the best possible way. "I love you so much, Eds. Thank you again for the gift, it's really amazing." You turn your head to kiss him deeply, clenching your walls around him to emphasize your words.

He groans at the squeeze, his breath shuddering when you break away. "I love you too, Y/N. And I'm glad you like it. I wanted to make it as special as I could for you, because you're so important to me." He kisses your cheek, squeezing your waist to coax you into riding him. You take the hint, lifting up once more to sink back down again. Another cry of pleasure rips from your throat, and you begin to bounce steadily on Eddie's cock. His hands continue to hold you with gentle support, and your movements on him draw many noises from his lips as well. Your ass smacks against his thighs, the sound mingling with the harmony of moans filling the room.

A heavy knot is forming within you, balling itself up tighter every time you land on Eddie's lap. "God, this feels so good. You're so deep like this, baby." You love telling him how everything makes you feel, you've never been so vocal in bed before he came along. Hell, there's lots of things you've never done before until Eddie brought them out of you. It's crazy when you think about it, he's managed to completely change your life in so many ways. You genuinely like waking up every day, when you used to dread having to face the world until you could retreat to your bed at night. You're truly happy, something you never thought you'd be. And it's all thanks to the man currently sitting underneath you as you ride him like your life depends on it.

Your bodies are soaked in sweat from how close you are to one another, and your breath comes out hot and labored. The knot inside you is wound up so tight, threatening to snap as Eddie's cock hits all the right places again and again. He's not far behind you, his hair clinging to his face as he peppers your neck with kisses between moans. "I love it when you ride me, baby. You're such a good little slut for me. Are you getting close, angel?" He speaks lowly, pushing you closer to the edge with his filthy words.

"I am, Eds. You fill me up so well, it's so fucking good." You bounce on him even faster, wanting to lose control so badly. He groans into your neck, biting it harshly as his stomach tenses. His hand leaves your chest, rubbing your clit in quick circles. "Eddie! Oh, God! Keep going, just like that!" You moan so loud, oddly worried about someone hearing you. But then you remember you're all alone in the house, refocusing on the task at hand. Your walls flutter around his length, signaling your fast-approaching release.

"Cum for me, princess. Be a good girl. Fuck!" His own high overtakes him, his hips bucking upwards a couple times as he paints your insides with his load. He continues rubbing you, and you keep riding him as hard and as fast as you can. Eddie knows just how to send you toppling over the deep end, grinning as he puts his lips to your ear again. "You wanna know why I named this one 'Siren's Song', Y/N?" He purrs. You just moan in response, signaling to him that you definitely want to hear whatever it is he has to say. Small waves of pleasure begin to wash over you, you're almost there and his final words are sure to take you where you need to go. "It's because these pretty noises you make could lure any man to certain death. And I'd happily let you lead me to mine, love." He chuckles darkly as he bites your earlobe, ignoring how overstimulated his dick is as you've kept up your pace to get yourself off. He gently pinches your clit between his fingers, sealing your fate.

"Oh, fuck!" You scream as your orgasm takes you over, Eddie holds you steady while your legs begin to shake. You pulsate around him, making his breath stutter. Your arousal soaks his cock, spilling out onto his lap beneath you. Your head has fallen completely backwards over his shoulder, helpless noises tearing themselves from your vocal chords. He watches meticulously as you fall apart, memorizing every sound, every twitch of your thighs, the absolutely fucked look on your face. Your body goes limp, letting your pleasure subside as you struggle to catch your breath.

Eddie holds you close, his arms wrapped snugly around you to keep you from falling over. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. He plants delicate kisses on every inch of flesh he can reach, pulling you back to reality. Your sweat has turned cold, but his embrace stops you from shivering. "Did you enjoy yourself, darling?" He asks, helping your head sit upright.

"I really did, baby. It was amazing." You sigh contentedly, feeling the blood rushing from your head. You let Eddie capture your lips in a tender kiss, pulling away a moment later. You slowly lift yourself off of his cock, small whines leaving your mouths until his length falls limp in his lap. You stand off the bed, almost stumbling as your legs feel like the bones are missing. He tries to reach out and help you, but you wave him away. "I got it. I'm gonna get a towel to clean us up." You regain balance, waddling over to the linen closet. You're feeling a little sore, cursing yourself for going so hard.

"You okay, love?" He asks from the bed, sitting as still as possible to keep the pool of cum in his lap from spilling everywhere. He can't help smirking as you walk awkwardly, it is a bit silly. But concern soon takes over, and he’s worried you’ve pushed yourself too far.

"Yes, Eddie." You reply, a little annoyed. You know he just cares about you so much, but you don't need him doting on you all the time. You go back to the bed with the towel, trying to walk as normal as possible so he'll stop worrying. You wipe yourself down first, wincing when the towel touches your overworked cunt.

"Baby, you don't have to lie to me." He says quietly, not wanting to argue with you. He just hates seeing you uncomfortable.

"I know, I'm not lying. I'm fine. Maybe I went a little too hard, but I'll bounce back. I'm not made of glass, Eds." You toss the towel to him, and he catches it against his chest. He stares at you a moment, before deciding to accept your answer. You insist it's not a big deal, so he'll drop it. Eddie dries himself off, standing to discard the towel into the hamper. He digs around in the dufflebag he left in your room for some clean pajamas, slipping into them as you retrieve some of your own. 

Eddie notices you putting your shirt on easily, but struggling to step into your shorts. "Sweetheart, let me help." He tuts, almost pitying you as you try and fail to get them on.

"Alright." You sigh, frustrated that you need his assistance for something so simple. He kneels down, holding your shorts up. You rest a hand on his back so you don't fall over, putting one foot in after the other. He pulls the garment up your legs until it's resting at your waist. "Thanks, baby. Maybe I'm not as 'fine' as I thought."

Eddie stands again, pulling you into a firm hug. His head rests on top of yours as he holds you to his chest, and you embrace him just as strongly. "You gotta be more careful, princess. I like rough sex as much as the next guy, but you can seriously hurt yourself if you don't take it easy. And we don't want that, do we?"

"No, my love." You reply, muffled against his shirt. He places a kiss on your head, loosening his grip on you to look you in the eyes. You smile at one another, sharing a chaste kiss. You nuzzle against his chest, stroking your arms up and down his back. You're tempted to stay like this forever, safe in Eddie's arms is your favorite place to be. But your stomach has other ideas, growling loudly for some dinner.

"You hungry, angel?" He asks, chuckling quietly at the sound. You nod against his chest, not wanting to let go. "C'mon, love. We can cuddle once you've eaten something."

"You might have to carry me, unless you wanna see me waddle like a penguin." You look at him again, flashing your best puppy eyes.

"I dunno, that would be pretty amusing..." He smirks, teasing you. You beg harder with your eyes, pouting your lower lip. You truly don't want him to laugh at you, it's embarrassing to be so helpless. "You're impossible to say no to, you know that?" He rolls his eyes playfully, scooping you into his arms. You sling your own around his neck to hold on, cheering as he gives in to your request so easily. You love when Eddie carries you, it makes you feel like a princess. Which is fitting, since he calls you that so often. He clearly loves it too, he'll do anything you ask if it'll put a smile on your face. He carries you effortlessly to the kitchen, setting you down gently on the countertop. "How's a pb&j sound?" He asks, turning around to take the raspberry jam out of the fridge.

"Sounds perfect." You chirp, your stomach rumbling in agreement. You watch Eddie as he moves about your kitchen, easily locating everything he needs to make the sandwiches. He's certainly made himself at home, and you can't help but love him for it. The two of you being alone in the house is great, you can have as much sex as you want at whatever volume you like. But it's also like you're practicing what it would be like to live together. The thought alone of sharing a house or apartment with him sends your heart aflutter. A space all your own, full of love and happiness. It's every girl's dream, right? You wonder if Eddie has a similar fantasy, but it's much too soon to ask such a thing.

"If I had a dollar for every time you spaced out, I'd be a fuckin' millionaire, babydoll." Eddie startles you out of your trance, the image of you two picking out furniture dissipating from your mind. He smiles kindly, pushing a plate closer to you. He’s cut the sandwiches in half, and even put some baby carrots on the side. You realize that almost every meal you've had with Eddie has been a bit juvenile, reminding you how young you really are. Maybe too young to even imagine living together anytime soon. "Something wrong?" He quirks an eyebrow at you, curious as to what exactly you were dreaming about this time. Though he doubts you'll tell him.

"Sorry, it's nothing." You try to laugh it off, taking a carrot from your plate. His eyes don't leave your face, prompting you to speak further. "Alright, if you really wanna know, you can't get weirded out. Okay?"

"I won't, I promise." He replies seriously, putting a hand over yours. His warm touch calms you, lifting some of the weight from your thoughts.

"Well, I was just noticing how familiar you're getting when you're here. You know where everything is, basically." You say, watching his expression change to one of further confusion. "What I mean is, having the house to ourselves, it's like we're living together almost." You bite your lip nervously, unsure how he'll react to that.

"Yeah, is there something wrong with that?" He’s almost offended, thinking you don't want him to be familiar with you and your home. But that couldn't be further from the truth.

You shake your head. "No, of course not! I really enjoy it, actually. I was thinking about what it'd be like for us to have our own place, picking out furniture and putting up photos of us on the walls. Cuddling in our own bed, in our own room, in our own apartment or house. It just sounds so nice, but I'm not in a rush to do that, or anything. I was just...dreaming about it." You can't help smiling and blushing wildly at the idea, which makes Eddie's heart soar as he watches you react to your own words.

"You really see us doing all that?" His tongue plays at the edge of his lips, and he picks up half of his sandwich as he waits for your answer. He does want a future with you, a lot sooner than you'd think. But he doesn't want to put you in a weird position, and he himself is unsure he'd be able to provide for you. He can barely keep his own shit together, let alone afford an apartment. You mean everything to him, but he doesn't know if he's even good enough to ask you to take any further steps in your relationship.

"Well, yeah. But I mean, not right now." You insist. "Because I also thought about how childish we still are, we eat like teenagers for Christ's sake." You gesture at your plates to emphasize the point, giggling at how silly it is. "Plus, I'm still in school, and you have Wayne. Not to mention, we've only been together what, three weeks?" Eddie nods, his face saddening a bit. It's a little surprising that he actually wants to commit to you, take care of you the way you deserve. Guys are typically pretty flighty about this kind of thing. God, he really is the sweetest man you've ever met. You hold his hand, regaining his attention. "But I love you, Eddie. And when the timing is right, and we have a real plan, we can do whatever we want. Okay?"

"Okay." He replies, moving to stand between your legs for a moment. His hands rest on your waist, and yours go to his shoulders. "I love you, Y/N. More than I can ever truly put into words." He gazes at you so intensely, it almost frightens you. You don't think he's ever been this serious before, not even when you've gotten hurt or made him angry.

"C'mere, loverboy." You smile, leaning in as he's about to kiss you. When your lips meet, it's like a promise is being made. A vow, if one wants to get technical. Electric currents of adoration and devotion flick between you, binding your hearts together in a bond you hope never breaks. You speak with your tongues as they tangle in each other's mouths, saying 'I'll do everything I can to make you happy, my love' in this kiss that seems to last forever. Joyful tears flow calmly from your eyes, mingling together on your cheeks as you continue to hold one another close.

You pull away to breathe, resting your forehead against Eddie's with your eyes closed. You stay like this for a while, tears still falling silently onto the floor and counter beneath you. You feel so strongly for him, you can't imagine being with anybody else. And time after time, Eddie has proven he feels just the same for you. His hands leave your waist, gently wiping your tears away. You open your eyes, sitting up straight to look at him. He's smiling at you, so bright and kind. You return the sentiment, reaching up to dry his face with your fingers. "Hey there, princess." He says quietly, not wanting to disturb the calm energy in the room.

"Hey." You whisper back, letting your hands rest in your lap now. You look at the plates on the counter, remembering how hungry you still are. "You wanna finish dinner, love?"

"Yeah, much as I enjoy kissing and crying, we might need to have actual food every once in a while." He laughs, and you join him. Eddie hands you your plate to hold, and he hops onto the counter to sit beside you. His shoulder rubs against yours, he can't go a moment without touching you in some way. You finish eating in contented silence, and he puts the empty dishes into the sink for you once you’re done. "Do you still need me to carry you, princess?" He asks, standing beside you expectantly.

"Please." You grin at him, holding out your arms while making grabby hands. He lets you wrap your arms around his neck, before lifting you off the counter. Eddie carries you back to bed, setting you down carefully. You lay your head on the pillows, gazing up at him lovingly. "So, it's not very late just yet. Did you maybe want to help me make my D&D character?"

"I was just going to suggest the same thing." He grabs your starter kit from your dresser, putting it beside you. Before sitting down, he digs out his own D&D materials and splays them out on the bed. He sits cross-legged next to you, and you mirror his position. "I figure I can show you how to fill the sheet out and let you read through the book to decide what you'd like to play as. I also need to start working on the next campaign, I'd like to have it ready by the time the kiddos come back from their trip. I'll try not to be too sadistic with it, since you'll be playing. But I'm tellin' ya now, I'm only gonna do that once."

"Well, I appreciate that, darling. I'd hate for you to take it easy on me just because I'm your girlfriend. That wouldn't be very fair, now would it?" You smirk, opening the starter box to examine the contents. "Besides, I've got to prove myself if I'm going to be the 'Queen of Hellfire'." You open up the manual, setting to work reading the races and classes within it to see which ones sound like a good fit for you.

"That you do, baby. I have no doubt you'll be more than worthy of the title, and again, not just because you're my girlfriend." He chuckles, leaning over to kiss your head before opening his notebook. The two of you spend the next couple hours working on your individual projects, though Eddie happily answers any questions you have. He also gives suggestions as to what race or class might suit you better, and which abilities you'd find most useful. He's so glad you're genuinely interested in playing this game with him, he wasn't sure you'd be all that into it.

When the clock reads 11:30pm, you can't hold back the massive yawn that spills from your lips. Your character is complete, sans a sketch that Eddie insists he'll draw for you. You pack everything away for the night, standing on your own for the first time in hours to open the bedroom window. You and Eddie lean out of it, sharing a smoke before you go to bed. He's got work again tomorrow, though you always beg him to call in sick every day. He always tells you he would if he could, but his boss doesn't take kindly to sick days. "Your boss sounds like a real asshole, Eds." You say as you have every other time you've asked him to stay with you.

"He certainly is, Y/N. But, I kinda need the money. Not everyone gets the luxury of going to college and having everything paid for by their parents." He doesn't mean this as a slight against you, it's just a simple fact. You do have a privileged existence, and you don't pretend not to.

"I know, love. If we could switch places, I would. You've always had to work harder than everyone else, and you still end up with less. It's not fair." You can't help feeling bad for him, though he doesn't seem to mind all that much.

"No, it's not. Some people have more money, more opportunities, more power. That's just the way it is. But it's not like I'm miserable. I have you, don't I?" He nudges you with his shoulder, almost making you drop your cigarette.

"I know, I'm not trying to make it sound like being poor is bad, or something. I just love you and care about you so much. I want to give you everything you want, because you deserve it." You look at him as you inhale a long final drag. You flick the butt away, letting the smoke flow slowly from your lips.

"But I already have everything I want." He replies, smirking at your widened eyes. "What? I have you, and the club, and my uncle. I've got a van that gets around just fine, and a decent enough job. I've got clothes on my back, a place to sleep, and enough food to eat. What else does a person need, hm?" He tosses his own cigarette away, pulling you into him by your waist.

"Well, I feel like an asshole when you put it like that." You joke.

"No, I get what you mean, sweetheart. You're just expressing how much you care for me, it's sweet. But no matter how much or how little I have, it doesn't mean a thing as long as you're in my life."

"You're such a romantic little shit sometimes, you know that?" You giggle quietly, and he chuckles too.

"Yeah, well, you've definitely touched my once-cynical heart, princess." He gives you a gentle kiss, too tired to heat things up again. "Let's get to bed, angel. We both need rest." He says softly. You nod, going to the bed and slipping into the covers. Eddie removes his shirt so he won't get too hot, before flicking the lightswitch and climbing into bed beside you. He pulls you close to spoon you, his long arms wrapping you up just right. "Goodnight, my love." He whispers, kissing the back of your neck.

"Goodnight, Eds." You reply, closing your eyes as sleep overtakes you.

To be continued...

[leslie057]

place in me (no words left);

SOULMATE AU SOULMATE AU SOULMATE AU!

pairings: nancy/jonathan, nancy&mike

rating: m (swearing + sexual references)

word count: 13k

summary: local midwestern sadboy gets hexed by his beautiful soulmate—forgets he’s not supposed to be telling nancy wheeler that she’s his angel

read on ao3

The weight of the situation is far and above her repressing abilities. Her Soulmate may be here, here and now, real and ready. Her Soulmate may be under an amnesiac Japanese love spell. And it may be Jonathan, who has admittedly become her…distant dream. Her type. She wants nothing more than to claim him now while he’s willing to actually breathe her air.

She never planned on any of this. Or on him.

His bottom lip curls upward a little and she imagines him biting down on his tongue, trying hard to contain himself. Contain the big feelings. Self-control is his game on any normal day. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he can’t even think straight because of her slender hand in his. His sense of reason is off on Saturn, and she can almost see how much he wants to physically be closer to her, a thought so upsetting and lush she could throw something. She could scream.

She’ll do neither; he scares easily when it comes to girls.

She prepares the same tone that you’d use on a wounded animal cowering in the bushes. Voice careful and low, she says, “You don’t know why you’re here, do you?” His answer—if she can coax it out of him—could confirm the connection of their partner receptors.

He shakes his head no.

You are mine. I did bring you here.

Her chest lifts with the knowledge. Puzzling, perfect knowledge. Mentally she parses out her next words, letting him stroke her wrapped palm in the meantime. The peripheral sound of Mike and Dustin’s footsteps echoes. Privacy is crucial for the conversation she covets.

“Hey, come with me for a sec.”

She tugs him toward the closet and they slip into darkness. She locks them in. Instinctively finds the pull cord and yanks down on it so that he would see her, so that the warm light would ground them.

extending an extra special thank you to @wanderleave who encouraged me through this story and offered revisionist help; she’s the best “idea man” <3

[iamaboredpotatonugget]

Ginny Weasley Dealing With The Inherent Trauma of Being Possessed by Voldemort For a Year Fics

"There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny," said Dumbledore.

Ginny Weasley's life after the Chamber of Secrets, because Dumbledore always was a well-meaning liar.

She may miss Harry so much it hurts, and she may be absolutely furious with him for leaving her so cut up and in this mess that is her life, but she’ll be damned if she’s to do nothing while the world falls apart around her.

No, Ginny Weasley doesn’t fall apart.

She fights.

Ginny Weasley fought a demon in her head during her first year at Hogwarts and lost.

Eventually, Harry killed that part of Voldemort's soul, but things like that always leave scars.

It was not Harry’s heroism, Ron’s desperation, her mother’s love, or her brothers’ toilet seat humor that brought her back (though the toilet seat helped). Ginny breathed deep at night. She wept. She remembered how to rage. She snuck out at night and stole each of her brothers’ brooms in turn. She took to the skies and brought herself back to life.

And then she was laughing, but it was more like crying, with the big useless breaths she kept having to take. She held onto Harry’s arms very tight.

Maybe, she thought, and the thought was sudden and strange to her, she wasn’t always going to have dry eyes.

There are scars, of course, but no one else notices.

This is her rebirth. Ginny Weasley died on the floor of a dark wet chamber in an ancient castle, clutching a diary to her chest. She is reborn in the dry hotness of a country summer, outside, tossing a diary to the flames.

“As I was saying, you’re killing yourself for me, and I really do appreciate it. So how about I give you a parting gift? Anything you’d like, within reason.”

“A kiss,” she says without hesitation.

It’s all over the school by dinnertime: Ginny Weasley’s boggart is a boy.

“It’s okay to still be upset about it, you know,” Harry murmured, hand still held against her cheek. “Just because it’s over doesn’t mean that you’re over it.”

And that was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it?

It was over and everyone just assumed that meant that she was over it. She had healed okay on the outside, she hadn’t died though she had come so close, so she must be okay on the inside too, right?

[lonelylonelyghost]

Re-watch of The Spirealm. Episode 14

Their mutual hostility is the best.

The funniest thing is that Nanzhu actually has no reason for tormenting Zhuang Rujiao. He's already used her enough while she was acting as a spy in Obsidian, she's not interested in Qiushi and she's not an enemy. If nothing else it's her who should be upset at him, because she likes Li Dongyuan, but he likes his """little sister""" and Nanzhu is always provoking him into doing stuff for him. But he just... drives her nuts. For the love of the craft I guess. And it's amazing.

"When I was young, my family was poor, and I didn't learn many words. Why don't you come in and read it yourself?"

Boss move, Qiushi, I love you

"It seems that this Zuozi has a lot of resentment"

Wow, no way! Really?? I couldn't tell

Strong-arming a girl into eating properly by pestering her relentlessly.

And Qiushi's reaction lol

I think we don't talk enough about the way that Qiushi looks at Nanzhu. It's soft eyes and a fond smile (with a touch of exasperation because of course).

It's also the indulgence in any of his shenanigans and the willingness to cover up for him. It's complete trust in their relationship.

It's love.

Somebody kill me.

Not at all ominous

I don't know what you see, but I see two girlfriends and two boyfriends, enjoying their lunch break. The boyfriends are even hugging! 🥹

Libraries and archives, my beloved

Cease to exist, please

Oh, I have an idea! How about you cover your eyes with your own rotten intestines and walk backwards into traffic?

I don't think that humanity will lose anything with you gone tbh

And Qiushi agrees

Unless you have luck and the endless will to fight. But most people don't have either, so... yeah

Sleepy smiles of sleepy boyfriends :)

The Yin-Yang color coordination of their outfits. And the fact that Nanzhu wears tailored suits and coats, while Qiushi's style is more casual and practical

I like that despite being the most intimidating-looking out of the whole gang, Li Dongyuan is actually the sweetest bean

With you smiling like that I don't think I can even breathe, sweetheart

Zombies x Village of the Damned crossover.

Now that I think about it, what exactly does Zuozi do with all those legs that she rips out? That's like a lot of legs. Are they used for decoration? Does she store them in an abandoned shed somewhere? Are they numbered and catalogued? Does she wear different legs on different days of the week? I wanna know

... On the other hand I think I'm good. Do whatever you want, queen

Nooooo, my Bleh Couple! 😭😭😭

Sick with worry, on his knees, gently trying to ease his love back to reality from his traumatic flashback.

Godddd.

[thothxv]

I really don't want to talk about the present AO3 controversy (I have opinions, I think anyone paying attention does, but I'm so. Very. Tired. And the internet chews up tired people with opinions and spits them out for fun. So that's not happening).

HOWEVER!

I see many people out there championing Squidgeworld as an alternative to AO3. If you don't like AO3's staff or leadership and want to go somewhere else, this is actually pretty reasonable. The Squidge folks have been doing this a long time, they know what they're doing. They are a smaller team, hosting on smaller infrastructure (a dog knocked over their server once, apparently), but they seem up to the task of running an archive.

However. I also see people talking how Squidgeworld's policies are better than AO3 in various regards. And I want to address this because it's... mostly wrong. There are some differences in the TOSes, but for most of you they will be the same.

First thing, top of the list: Squidge's TOS is much smaller and vaguer than AO3's. A whole ton of rules around tagging in the TOS are just... not there. There's a bunch of information in AO3's TOS about how complaints are treated, that's all gone, any specificity about how Squidgeworld defines what they do or do not consider acceptable behavior is just... not there. In their place, we have Wheaton's Law: "Don't be a Dick". You might thing that covers it all, but a good TOS that makes it clear what is and is not allowed gives a lot of piece of mind. Nothing is worse than waking up to see that you've been given the boot because you and the mods disagreed about what the TOS meant. It sucks, you don't want that. It probably won't happen to most people, especially if you're not an asshole, but it is a thing.

The next thing in the TOS is the CSEM clause (the technical term for most of what people refer to as child pornography), and this is what I heard a lot of people talking about. I have heard people say that Squidge "actually bans child porn". However, the only difference between AO3 and Squidge's policies on CSEM (which is, to be clear, they they do not permit it) The only difference is this line: "This includes anything deemed pro-child sex or child-sex advocacy symbols." The thing is, that's subjective. A fic that involves this kind of content is not necessarily pro-child sex. Yes, even if it's RPF. And no, RPF is not CSAM. Nor is RPF CSEM, which is a broader umbrella term. At least, not under US law or US definitions, which is what both AO3 and Squidge operate under. I have done my best to get the official definitions for these things: RPF isn't covered. This has nothing to do with my opinions on RPF, it's just fact. In short, if you're upset at AO3 for not banning sexually explicit RPF containing real-life minors, Squidgeworld doesn't ban that either. Whether or not it takes down a fic with that kind of content in it is basically down moderation staff opinion on whether it might be advocating for child sex.

Now here's the juicy stuff. Squidgeworld prohibits links to any kind of fundraising... except in the case of original work. So, if you are a writer who posts original work to fic archives and wants to link your Patreon... you can do that on Squidgeworld. Just don't do it on fanfics. Or in the comments or in your profile. Standard AO3 rules everywhere else. Honestly, unless squidgeworld takes off on a scale that is frankly unlikely, this probably won't matter, but for some of you, this is a good thing, and it's worth bringing up.

Squidgeworld, unlike AO3, does not allow AI-generated fanworks. Now, I'm sure a lot of you are very happy, but this does actually present some problems: Specifically, you can't always tell AI generated and human work apart. Sure, a lot of the time it's pretty easy, but you can mask it, and sometimes the output could be confused for real writing. More importantly, real people's writing could be confused for AI writing. I could easily see fic authors being attacked with accusations that their work is AI generated, or co-written with an AI. I don't know if that will happen, but... well, some people are assholes, and fan communities are often drama-laden. It could happen.

Squidgeworld prohibits web scraping for the purpose of use with AI. AO3 basically has the same policy, and they've taken more technical measures to prevent it now that we're aware it's a thing that happens (the first time AO3 was scraped was pre-ChatGPT, people just weren't paying attention to this stuff. I imagine squidgeworld takes similar anti-scraping technical measures, although I don't know for sure). I think people don't think AO3 does this because in the post where they explained this they also said they allowed AI-generated fics, and they went on to say that they couldn't make it impossible for someone to scrape the site and feed that into a machine learning model. That's something Squidgeworld can't do either: if you really want a website scraped, that website can be scraped. This is why AO3 went on to say that archive-locking your work would make it less likely for scrapers to catch it, and that you could do that if you were concerned.

So yeah. I think broadly that these policies shake out mostly the same as they do on AO3 in terms of content. There's more vagueness and subjectivity and more things that malicious users could potentially abuse to waste staff time and attack other users, but... well, you can always submit false reports. That's a problem on AO3 too. Same as it ever was. And hey, at least there won't be any blatantly AI-generated fics over on squidgeworld. Mind, I haven't seen any in any of my fandoms anyways...

[whakkicat]

i am leaving

i made a post on my twt about this, but i should make it here as well.

this is my last text post before i archive this account and start elsewhere. video about what’s been happening at some point.

this post will be a personal note to friends, mutuals, communities, etc, and what will happen from here.

brief warning for mentions of abuse

1. i want to start with a word towards the rain world community. first off, i want to thank rain world for giving me a home. for starting me off as an artist. i had never actively participated in a fandom before this, and it was a wonderful experience.

the game brought me and so many of my friends together, i met a lot of amazing artists, some of which i’m still shocked they’re my mutuals, and rain world itself changed my life for the better, i believe. it gave me hope and something to live for when nothing else did.

i’ve always been quite afraid of voicing myself, as i had never participated actively in a fandom before, therefore had never gotten used to talking in one. but to those who’ve stuck around, who have enjoyed my content, thank you.

2. to the people who have been there for me during the worst, who have let me know i am not alone in my suffering, it means so much to me. i really hope that i can still keep contact with many of the people i have met on here.

there have been so many kind people on this platform and it’s been a joy talking to you all. if this is goodbye, to some, i wish you all the best. it’s only what you deserve.

3. i will be reaching out to the main people who i owe art to, regardless of cmms or not. it is unprofessional of me not to keep track of myself and keep everyone waiting. my ADHD has not made it very easy for me. i apologize.

4. this point will mention abuse, so cw dealing and getting out of abuse this year was extremely hard for me, and is still taking its toll on me. it’s part of the reason i can’t stay, because i feel they still have power over me, even if they’re not actively in my life anymore.

as i move on, i don’t want to completely abandon my past, and everything that came out of that abuse in the first place. i am not abandoning myself, or forgetting what i went through. i want to grieve my younger, naive self as i go forward as an artist.

this doesn’t mean i’ve let them win and break me down. i won’t give up on myself. i need to be kinder to myself and heal, so being away from this will help. this also goes out to anyone else trapped in their friendships, relationships. you will be okay. talk to

please do not silence yourself for the sake of other people. your own feelings are just as valid and important as anyone else’s. don’t let people make you feel bad for feeling your own feelings.

5. to mutuals who’d like to stay in contact, i have a priv account on twitter i will mainly be using from now on. it won’t be used as much as it used to, considering this is a hiatus, but it will be where i will reside. you’re free to ask me in dms.

6. i’ve already begun starting over, i won’t be gone completely. if you happen to recognize me in the near future, please do not pester me about it. simply accept that i have restarted, as a brand, as an artist, and i’d like to start over from square one.

7. this account will also be public for the remainder of its existence, however i may clean it up for archival purposes. i don’t want to simply vanish, i am proud of some of the work i have published, and i don’t want it to be forgotten.

it’s a bit odd, considering most of my art is composed of doodles, non-serious jokes, and mostly fanart. hopefully i can make self indulgent art in the future. i’ve always wanted people to know my characters, but was always too afraid to actually talk to people.

closing point i’m sorry if my absence upsets anyone, if you are disappointed in me. i can’t stress enough that this year has been hard enough on me, and being here is hard enough. i want a fresh start. i want to be okay.

i love my fellow artists, my friends, everyone. there’s so many talented people i’ve met and i don’t ever want to forget them. my last post will be my video talking about my experiences this year, previous years, because i feel it’s important for me to come out about it.

this is a goodbye. i will miss many of you. here’s to hoping the rest of the year will be good for everyone! until our paths meet again. good luck out there

[astercontrol]

On the subject of problematic stories, fanfiction archive policies, and "(x) fans DNI"…

Here's my analysis on… well, how a visceral moral/ethical response can never fully work in tandem with the practical considerations of policy and enforcement.

Yes, there are some stories that I find irredeemable, stories so upsetting that I would genuinely not want the writers of them to ever interact with me. Mostly these are stories about truly horrible acts-- things like rape, child molesting, domestic abuse, racist hate-crimes, genocide--

--and I don't just mean any story that mentions or depicts these acts in any way, because lots of stories can talk about those concepts without making me hate the author or wish the story would disappear.

No, I'm specifically referring to stories that portray these things in a way that strongly suggests the author likes them… a lot, to the point of probably wanting to commit these acts in real life.

And yes, there are some stories that do convey that feeling quite strongly, without much room for other interpretations. I'm not gonna claim that every story has the right to a charitable interpretation. Some people do just… write to express really hateful, toxic thoughts without any redeeming quality about them.

And yes, I do think that there are certain stories that "All Reasonable People" would agree fit in that category.

Not many of them. The vast majority of stories have some room for sympathy. And even for the worst ones, reasonable people can disagree a lot on just what should be done with such stories. But I'd say that for those few, bottom-of-the-barrel worst stories, those same reasonable people would at least be in agreement that the writer is someone they would not want to ever be around, and that the stories do nothing much except spread hate and encourage hurtful ideas.

Practically speaking, though-- just how could you structure the rules and rule-enforcement of a fiction site to exclude those stories specifically?

For instance. Say I'm a site-owner writing my terms of service and trying to make it clear there's no tolerance for rape or abuse, underage sex, racism or sexism or homophobia…

Well, for one thing, there's all the technical detail of how you define every one of those things. And that's its own whole set of challenges, which have been explored in many many other essays. Do stories about sex-pollen or mating cycles count as rape? Can a coffeeshop AU romance between customer and employee ever truly be consensual, with that power dynamic where the employee knows she can get fired if a spurned customer makes a retaliatory complaint to a manager? And how clearly do you have to show characters planning out healthy boundaries to stop BDSM play from being abuse? Is it abusive to ship characters who have had fantasy or sci-fi battles with each other? In a world that has magical beings, robots and clones and space aliens of all kinds, what even counts as a race? And in that same diverse setting, is a character's age defined by number of years, mental maturity level, appearance, or some combination thereof?

It's all been analyzed into oblivion, without ever reaching an overall consensus.

But even on the topics where there is consensus-- even regarding scenarios that that are very obviously rape or abuse or racist violence or child molestation in the consensus of All Reasonable People-- even there, how would I word the policy so I'm not prohibiting critical discussion of those topics?

If I just say, for instance, "stories can't have child sex abuse or racial hate crimes in them" …

...then, I'd be making it technically against the rules to post a story in which, say, a traumatized character talks to a therapist about their childhood experience of being a victim of sexual or racial violence.

And of course I don't want to ban that kind of story! Being free to talk about traumatic experiences is vitally important. Being free to show fictional characters having that kind of talk can also be vitally important.

And, personally, the degree of detail or explicitness also isn't what I'd try and regulate. The gist of the rule I'd want to write would be something along the lines of, "I don't want any stories that show these things and glorify them, eroticize or romanticize them; that portray them in a positive way."

But this rule-- like most definitions and rules, honestly-- cannot be written in a way that inherently, explicitly forbids all the stories I want to keep out, while inherently, explicitly allowing all those I want to allow.

Language simply can't do that.

Apart from rules written in programming language for governing the activities of software, rules never work "inherently" and "explicitly," anyway. They work in conjunction with human rule-enforcers.

The closest I could get to my goal, here, would be to use something like that vaguely written rule, "No stories that glorify, eroticize or romanticize these things," and then have a team of moderators interpret it on a case-by-case basis.

A case-by-case basis is the most high-effort way to enforce anything. But for a LOT of things, it's the only way that comes close to working. Anything that can only be defined as "I know it when I see it!" …has to be regulated by people knowing it when they see it.

And yes, if all those people had the same general common sense that I consider myself to have, and enough time and freedom to exercise it-- yes, I think they would be able to weed out all the stories that "All Reasonable People" would consider so toxic as to have no redeeming value.

But two big problems here:

This would require the moderators to read every story-- or at least to read and make a decision on every story that got enough reports from users who felt it broke the rules. Unless the site was very small, this would be a huge undertaking, requiring many hours of labor from the mods.

Unless the site was very small, they would not be able to do it without also weeding out some stories that do have redeeming value.

Because they would have to draw the line somewhere.

And with a large enough population of site members, a large enough team of moderators, and a large enough volume of stories posted, they could not draw that line consistently.

There would, inevitably, be complaints from all directions-- writers of all walks of life making accusations of bias, citing specific stories that got allowed, and contrasting them to other specific stories that got taken down.

There would be bias. There would be unfairness. It's not avoidable. And no matter who you are and what your tastes in fiction may be, it would, without fail, happen to some things that you think it shouldn't happen to.

Now, depending on your tastes, you may feel this would be a fair tradeoff for a site that successfully kept out most or all of the fiction you consider the worst.

But, so far, that has not been the case with any big fanfiction site.

On every large site that bans certain types of fanfiction identified on a case-by-case basis, there is widespread dissatisfaction with how it is or isn't enforced. It just isn't possible to do that kind of enforcement, on that kind of scale, and keep any large percentage of people satisfied.

Even AO3, which has very few rules of that sort, still gets its share of complaints. It does have some rules-- no monetizing fanfiction, no plagiarism, no doxxing-- and those are, to some degree, things that have to be interpreted and identified on a case-by-case basis by individual volunteer moderators.

And even with these comparatively simple decisions, there is a limit to how much of that they can get done in a day, and how consistent they can be at it… and, therefore, a limit to how much of the userbase they can satisfy.

And if you want to understand why they won't make more rules about the content of the fiction--

--just try to imagine, for a few moments, adding all that, on top of the current enforcement tasks those volunteers already do.

Imagine the logistics of it, the details. The work of reading and categorizing everything that gets reported. The dilemma of where to draw the line in each and every case, without those decisions forming any unfair pattern of inconsistency.

It could be done, maybe.

But it hasn't been done successfully, on that scale, ever.

If you were in their position, would you want to take that risk?

[kikidoesfanfic]

Melancholy March

KikiDoesFanfic on ao3

Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV) Fluff, Pining Rating: T No Archive Warnings Apply Words: 675 Chapters: 1/1 On Ao3

Summary: Every year they part, and every year Jaskier seems more grim the closer they arrive to Oxenfurt.

Geralt doesn't understand, until he does. Fic below the cut

He watches his bard walk, head forward, mouth set in a grim line that only gets more severe the closer they get to the crossroad.

Every year his mood worsens around the lead up to Winter truly setting in.

Going from bubbly babbling with excitement that first parting, to nervous babbling, to subdued babbling, to falsely cheerful babbling, rather a lot of babbling as Jaskier is want to do. Geralt had assumed he just hated the weather, they had cut it close a few times, Jaskier almost not making it to Oxenfurt before the snow set in.

But this year is different.

It's the silence that has Geralt worried, out of everything, the resigned acceptance in the slump of his shoulders and the occasional perfectly mundane sighs, so far from Jaskier's usual performative dramatics. It all paints a picture that's far from promising, but the silence? On a scale of Jaskier's usual moods, silence indicates a level somewhere between devastating and catastrophic.

Geralt wracks his mind for something that could have happened before Jaskier's mood took a turn, to sour it, but can't come up with anything. They'd had a perfectly lovely day together, and they're making even better time than they usually would.

Now Jaskier would get to go to Oxenfurt, back to his students and luxury living for the Winter, while Geralt made the trek to see his brothers and rest, well before the weather truly turned and made his journey up the mountain miserable.

They reach the crossroads, and Jaskier looks up only after scuffing the ground with the toe of his boot.

"I suppose I shall see you in the Spring, then?" He says, smile small, but eyes tight with an emotion Geralt can't quite parce. He doesn't ask.

Instead Geralt nods, places a hand on his shoulder, squeezes, "be safe, bard." Jaskier ducks under his arm, squeezes him back, but with a hug, not a hand.

"Be safe? You're the one heading up 'The Killer," and Geralt can hear the air quotes in his voice, "alone. I'll be in Oxenfurt, there's nothing to worry about there."

"Dont sell yourself short, I'm sure you'd find yourself some trouble somehow, it's your greatest talent after all." Jaskier pulls back with something that sounds alarmingly close to a sniffle, and slaps at Geralt's shoulder.

"Oh you are terribly rude to me, I don't know why I'm missing you already when you treat me so horribly." He says it with fondness, a more genuine smile curling at his mouth, so Geralt shifts ready to move lest he change his mind and walk with Jaskier a while longer.

"I'll find you in Spring, Jaskier." He says, long past pretending he doesn't look out for the bard each year, knowing Jaskier does the same.

"I'll find you first, just you wait and see." Jaskier replies, staring at Geralt a moment before decisively turning and walking off down the road, humming as he goes.

Geralt waits, looks after him, and just as he does every year Jaskier turns and seems pleased by Geralt's watching him leave, before continuing on his way with an extra bounce to his step.

It takes years for Geralt to understand, until he comes to realise while standing in that very same spot and waiting for Jaskier to walk away, that the reason for Jaskier's melancholy upon their parting each year isn't something mundane as disliking the weather. That Jaskier is increasingly upset, of all things, for leaving him and being left in turn.

"Jaskier," He says, and Jaskier cocks a questioning eyebrow in the pause it takes him to gather his courage, "come with me?"

While Jaskier's eyes widen in shock, Geralt has time to panic at his incoming rejection. Why would Jaskier give up his months of luxury and teaching for a crumbling keep in the cold.

His worries are unfounded though, Jaskier reaches him, reals him in for a soft kiss that tastes of his sweet smile and happy laugh, and merely says:

"Why Darling, I thought you'd never ask."

On Ao3

[thedo0zyslider]

Displacement - 1k Words

It's been a few days since the Sunchaser crashed, and Webby some Feelings she needs to sort through.

It's been three, almost four days exactly, since the Sunchaser crashed. And it's been three, almost four days exactly, since Webby left McDuck Manor with her Granny. Since she left the only home she's ever had. It's been three, almost four days exactly, since her whole life fell apart.

It's not the first time Webby's wondered if getting on the Sunchaser that day was worth it. If investigating the Della Duck mystery in the first place was worth it. If any of what's happened over the past few months, minus meeting the boys and a handful of good adventures, were worth it; if they were just going to end in all this pain.

She's not sure she can decide weather all this was worth it or not. It's not it was her mom who went missing and most likely died, after all.

All she's sure she can do is try and tough it out, and be there for the boys while their family breaks apart. And her family too, if you count Webby in that.

She sighs quietly, looking up at the celling, feeling the houseboat rock around her. The couch she's laying on is not very comfortable. (Especially not compated to the ones in the manor...) She imagines it was at one point, years ago probably; otherwise it might not have been bought. She wishes it was still that comfortable for now, so she could get some good sleep on.

Webby and her Granny have been staying on Donald's houseboat since leaving McDuck Mansion. It's nothing temporary, of course, just somewhere to stay until they find their own place. The houseboat isn't big enough for six people, anyways, let alone four growing ducklings. They couldn't stay, even if they wanted too. (Webby isn't so sure she wants too, anyways.)

Currently, it's three in the morning, and Webby is laying on her temporary bed: the aforementioned uncomfortable couch. She's should've been asleep hours ago, but she's not. For whatever reason, sleep won't claim her tonight. It's been doing that a lot recently, leaving her awake for hours and hours and incredibly tired the next day.

She thinks she knows why, even if Webby pretends like she doesn't.

"This is a family matter. You are not family!"

Webby makes a whining noise at the memory, then buries her face in the arm of the couch. She's hates that memory, which sucks because she's been remembering it a lot these past few days. Her brain like, really enjoys tormenting her with that! It's a bit upsetting.

The memory, and Scrooge's words, sting. They sting a lot. The statement has caused her to tear up in the moment, back on the Sunchaser where it had first been uttered. It makes her eyes watery all the same now, almost four days later. She doesn't know why he said that. Webby doesn't know why Scrooge does anything, not anymore. Not after learning what happened to Della...

Frankly, she didn't understand how she wasn't family! She'd been told to call him Uncle Scrooge and everything! They had their own solo adventure without the boys! That's like, the most family you can get without actually being biologically related! It's didn't make sense!

Webby presses her face against the couch harder, and lets out a small scream as quietly as she can. She has no idea if it's actually quiet, but figures it's fine. Granny isn't here to be concerned about her, Launchpad hasn't spent the night again, and the boys and Donald are sound enough sleepers. At least, she thinks so anyways. There's no one to wake up with her little girl screams of stupid distress.

Not even five minutes later, there's a distinct sound of webbed feet on wood flooring, and it's approaching the houseboat's living room. The one she's currently in right now. The steps are too heavy to be the boys, but she knows them. It's the same footsteps she used to hear every morning for the past six months, making breakfast and shambling around the kicten; even though Granny is very capable of doing it herself.

It seems Webby had screamed louder than she thought.

"Webby?" A famillar voice calls, groggy with sleep but just as slurred as ever. Webby resists the urge to scream into the couch again, lest it wake anyone else up. If that had even woken him up in the first place. It's probably had...

It seemed like Donald Duck was a lighter sleeper than she had thought, as well.

"Oh, uh, hi Mr. Duck-" Webby splutters, fumbling to sit up properly. His entrance had not been very anticipated, despite the prior and very audible footsteps coming her way. She was still bad at timing when people would enter a room. And also when they would speak to her. Webby was working on it.

"Just Uncle Donald will do." The older duck says, a small smile rigging at his beak. Webby just nods absently, then immediately starts her anxiety word vomit. Another thing she's tried to work on. This one probably won't be broken anytime soon. Or ever. It's her longest standing one.

"Yeah haha, Uncle Donald, right. What're you doing up so late, getting a glass of water, or maybe a midnight snack or-?"

"Webby, slow down!' Donald says, holding his hands out infront of him. He takes a few steps forward, till he's infornt of the couch and infront of her. His interruption stops her word vomit, and Webby falls silent once again. She still feels bad. She still feels upset. Donald can probably tell, if the screaming into the couch didn't give it away. She's not very good at hiding these things.

Sometimes, Webby wishes she was better at it. If only for her not-family's sake.

"Webby, what's bothering you?" Donald says, moving to take a seat on the couch. Webby hastily scoots over, to make room for him. She probably scoots a lot farther than she needs too. She wasn't taking up too much space on the couch to begin with.

"Oh, it's nothing important really." She shrugs, fiddling with the fabric of her sleep pants idly. Totally not because of nerves, or anything silly like that. "Not as important as what the guys are going through."

"No, it's just as important." Donald insists, the grip on her shoulder tightening a bit. But not too much. Webby can tell he's being careful not to huet her. It's very sweet. "You're part of this family too. You're issues matter just as much as the boys"

"Oh." She says, surprised. Webby hadn't been expecting that, not after the last family(? not-family?) heart-to-heart they had. It makes her feel a million times better and a million times more confused all at once. "Thanks."

Donald gives her a smile now, one bigger than his previous. His overall expression is very parent-like right now. It's reminding Webby of her Granny a lot, actually. "So, what's going on?"

"Um," Webby starts, then pauses, then fiddles with the fabric of her clothes some more. She pauses for a long while. Donald doesn't pressure her to say anything. All he does is wait ppaitnetlyand encouragingly at her side, until Webby can get her voice to work again. "While we were on the Sunchaser, Scrooge said I wasn't family."

"Oh." Donald says, already taking a deep breath or two. That is decidedly not a good sign for him and Scrooge's relationship going forward, if it will ever exist again. "Oh boy."

If Donald is mad, he's careful not to show it. That doesn't stop Webby from inferring anything, but it's sweet that he tries. She's pretty sure he's mad at Scrooge, not her. And Webby can't blame him. She's found herself being mad at the old man herself, rather surprisingly.

"Scrooge was wrong. You are apart of this family." Donald says eventually, after a decently long pause and a few more deep (and what Webby assumes are calming) breaths. "Weather he likes it or not."

"Then why did he say that?" She mutters, gaze pointedly fixed on the wall infront of them. A warm, comforting hand is placed on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. Webby appreciates the gesture more than she thought she might.

"I don't know Webs, I don't know." Uncle Donald sighs, sounding a lot more tired and old than he should be at thirty something. Webby pretends not to notice it, knowing Donald likes apperaing strong for the kids. "I don't know why that old geezer does anything, not anymore."

"Me neither." She agrees, remembering how she used to think of Scrooge so highly. Webby doesn't think she holds him to that regard anymore. He's still objectively awesome, just not the same man she had been idolizing for so long. It hurt that he wasn't. Webby decided to deal with that later, once she'd gotten a bit more sleep. "Thank you, Uncle Donald."

"Of course, darling. Anytime." Donald smiles again, wider this time, and wraps her into a small side hug. Webby lets her head fall on his shoulder, feeling secure with her Uncle's arm wrapped around her. It was nice. Having a family. It was really nice.

It was really nice that Scrooge had been wrong.

"Can we make some hot cocoa?" She asks, knowing she won't be able to sleep tonight. And Granny had always made that when she felt upset before, back in the mansion. (She's pretty sure it's like, four AM anyways. No since in going to sleep when ghe boys will be up in 2-3 hours.)

"Yeah, we can. Come on." Donald says, and leads her into the kitchen. Webby follows, feeling a lot lighter than she had twenty minutes ago.

She's still got some Feelings Things to work through, but they feel infinitely more manageable now that she had Uncle Donald and the rest of their family by her side.

[rayan12sworld]

💠Princess of Qinghe

By:Saladaschy

Summary:

Wei Ying had never expected that she would lose her parents this way. While they were crossing the land of Qinghe, Wei Ying and her parents were attacked by a pact of strange wolf-like Yao. Overwhelmed by numbers, her parents lost and therefore had lost their lives. Wei Ying who had been hidden in a tree hollow, haven’t even realized she was orphaned and thus left all alone in this world.

Soon, a tall uncle with sharp eyes and a big sword found Wei Ying. She was all shivering and holding back her tears. The man then took Wei Ying to his home. He has a very big house with lots of people and big training grounds. Everybody seems to call him the Nie sect leader.

Wei Ying’s only hope that she would be allowed to stay for a few days until she is ready to travel again, now only her with her donkey. But it seems Nie-zongzhu had a different plan in mind.

How would her fate become after this…?

Hopefully the heavens would have mercy on this pitiful five year old little girl…

Chapter:11/?

Words:39,270

Status:ongoing

What an excellent fic, I like older siblings for wei ying,our wei ying deserves the world

Wei Ying was stunned, because His voice was so adorable! It is so husky in contrast to his soft-looking face. Wei Ying was staring stupidly, she wanted to pinch that bao plump cheeks. Without realizing, she also forgot to reciprocate the introduction. Lan Wangji was flushed from all the staring. He lowered his eyes. his ears seemed a little pink, peeking through his hair.

~~ so cute 😭😭

“Lan Wangji.” He said instead of addressing her. “Where the hell were you putting your hands on?” he spat out. “That’s my sister you are touching.” What?! What the hell is Dage saying?! This is acutely embarrassing. What if Lan Wangji doesn’t want to be her friend? It was painstakingly hard to get to this point! “Dage! Zhanzhan was being good to A-Ying. We were only hugging!” Nie Mingjue’s eyes narrowed. “Zhan— what?”

~~

“Don’t just hug any boys just like that. You don’t know what their intentions are.” Wei Ying whipped around and retorted. “It was Lan Zhan! I only hugged him because it was him! He had been very gloomy ever since I saw him. I was just- just-” she paused, “just consoling him.” “Hm? What were you doing with Lan-er-gongzi, A-Ying?” Nie Huaisang came out of nowhere. Wei Ying jolted and growled at him. He always does that! Like adding oil to fire, she’s deeply upset now. Wei Ying whipped her body. “Nothing! I was doing nothing! You guys are the reasons I can’t have friends!” Then she stomped down the hall in fast pace, wanting to leave them both behind. Wei Ying hmphed irately. Honestly, why are older brothers so nosy! Hmph!