#because the severe lack of fics made me depressed

[jennifer-jeong]

Okay so first, I really love your LnD fics (patiently waiting for more of your amazing works) 🥹🫶 and hear me out...

Reader who is reincarnated as a Fae being and has been alive since. But the thing is, her wings had been clipped off (with the use of silver chains, meaning she's vulnerable against silver) for a century and is in Linkon city since she feels that part of her (her wings) are somewhere hidden in the city (Think of Maleficent live action ig where her wings were taken from her) and meets the guys and so on :)

HI ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ASK AND YOUR KIND WORDS FJDSKLAFJSDL;A I APPRECIATE IT SM!! TY FOR INTERACTING!! I’m so glad to hear you like my fics and I promise more are on the way hehehe please do request me again if you have more ideas!!

I hope I did your prompt justice! I definitely did think a lot about maleficent when writing this hehehehe

Fluff + Angst | LADS x Fae!Reader Angel

CONTENT Angst to fluff, gender neutral reader, mentions of violence, blood, trauma, torture, healing alongside them, mutual pining between you and the boys, happy and open ended endings! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

Your wings were a pretty and pearly milky white. Your wings resembled those of high flying birds. They were thick enough to allow gliding and also strong enough to give you lots of control in the air. They were iridescent in the sun and carried you high in the bright sky. The air was thin but more refreshing up there. You played with clouds and soared through the endless blue. It was freedom. It made you feel alive, warm.

It was your gift, but unfortunately, it was on someone else’s wishlist.

You’d never been a spiteful being, nor had you ever hurt a fly. But when silver chains ripped your flesh and tore your muscle to take your wings, severing your very soul from your body. When they destroyed your forest, your home, your family, your heart. You swore to make them suffer.

You were powerful and hunting these fools down was nothing difficult for you. The problem was hunting without your wings, your best weapon.

The lack of mobility and being forced to fight on the ground made it so that you could maim the weak ones, but you could never reach the ones who profited off the suffering of you and your people.

Linkon city is where they were. You knew this. You could feel your wings there. You also knew that you’d need to hide, figure out who did what and how to get your damn wings back. It would take time, but time was all you had as a fae. You’d do whatever it took to make them pay.

It’d take years, but it was worth it.

2 years later and you’ve already made moves to apprehend (and torture) a few key figures, always leaving them in front of the police station when you were done. You still had so much good in you and it always prevented you from killing. But it made you seethe that they were filthy fucking rich from what they stole from your homeland. They sold your resources and displayed your bodies, your wings, like they were trophies. Life was still cold and depressing for you but you did manage to make some friends in Linkon. They’d even help you with your mission. You only trusted them with the information because they had similar goals.

XAVIER

Xavier was a local policeman you had met a few decades into your plot when you were hired to help with the case. He was coincidentally also investigating illegal hunters and black markets selling goods stolen from other civilizations such as yours. It was a big ring of crime and he was determined to end the atrocities that were being committed in it. Meeting you was just extra motivation on top of his already relentless drive for justice. You became investigative partners since you were both capable in combat and often investigated the same people anyways.

Xavier was kind, gentle, quiet, and stronger than he let on. He always worked without expectation of reward and you appreciated that. You just wanted justice and he wanted the same. It helped that he didn’t seek publicity because it would’ve made your life harder since you were probably wanted as a vigilante from before. Xavier taught you his philosophies and you realized you’d been consumed by your desire for revenge, unable to enjoy life outside of it. You admired him for his morals, so you learned from him, and it made you two grow closer. He was more than happy to help, it was so rewarding to see you slowly become your bubbly self that he guesses you lost a long time ago.

He had his suspicions that you might be fae. The man was smart but he played his cards carefully, he always held them close. He acted aloof with you and pretended to not constantly stare at the back of your shirt, trying to see if you had imprints of missing wings on your shoulder blades. He also figured that your motivation for wanting to crack these cases came from somewhere. If he also managed to figure out that you’d been behind some of the previous mysterious arrests, he’d turn a blind eye. He knew your actions weren’t crimes. He felt glad that you got them back for what they did to you and your people.

After a few years of planned raids and dozens of arrests, one of the recovered items from the warehouse was a beautiful pair of wings. Still buzzing with magic, craving to feel the wind again. You felt them when they were being transported to the police HQ. The surge of energy that continued to approach you made you hold your breath and bounce your leg out of pure anxiety. Xavier put a hand on your shoulder to try to calm you down. He’d already figured out what was going on just by looking at you. You didn’t need to say a word. It was something that slowly came naturally since you two spent so much time together. You smiled and he smiled warmly back. You were in the middle of panicking because Xavier was still touching you when you were presented with your missing soul, your wings. You requested to view the “evidence” privately with Xavier and wasted no time in feeling your delicate wings with your fingertips again.

Xavier stood behind you, his right hand found its way to your upper back. He finally traced the outlines of your cut wings. It made you gasp at first, but you trusted him. As he continued to feel them, you shivered. They were scars, they were more sensitive. He stepped to your side and you turned to partially face him, his hand sliding off of you. You looked into his eyes and your longstanding feelings for Xavier were making their presence known by heating up your face, flushing your cheeks. You swore you saw a slight tinge of red on the tips of his ears too. He spoke to you in his familiar voice that you loved so much. He decided to tease you slightly.

“I think I always knew that you’d have wings, you were too perfect to not be an angel.”

ZAYNE

Zayne was a surgeon you’d met one day when he treated your wounds since you collapsed outside the hospital. He discovered the scars where your wings used to sit on your back. You were high off the morphine when he checked your back for more injuries so you barely even realized.

He questioned you but not in the way you expected. You thought he wouldn’t know what they were or try to take advantage of you. But instead he asked what you knew about the hunters that took your wings. He already knew exactly what happened to you just by looking. He was involved in cracking down on research related to Fae and Lemurians since there were people trying to fuse their genetics with these races to gain their beneficial traits such as immortality.

He knew some things you didn’t know and vice versa. You both began working on this together, investigating research facilities, interrogating suspects, and fighting only when needed. You were unstoppable and the law didn’t plan to ask you to let up. You both hand delivered them collectors and shadowy figures that had hid from the police for so long. When you fought, Zayne could both heal and attack from afar while you rushed them head on. You were unafraid because you believed in your partner, your trust in Zayne only grew as the years went on.

Early on, Zayne encouraged you to let go of the spite, the revenge. You knew he was right when he said that they did not benefit you in this. He saw the rage in you and could see that it was hurting you, mentally and physically. You listened, you knew better. You stopped the relentless tortures and instead, let the collectors rot in jail, but not before you got in a few good punches. Zayne watched you slowly come out of your shell again, actually taking the time to enjoy the little things in life instead of being hyper focused on revenge. He’d be lying if he said you weren’t one of the most rewarding patients he’d ever had.

Working with your partner was definitely quite the rollercoaster. He was always so professional and mature but would also randomly tease you as if you were kids, albeit with a fully deadpan expression. Zayne was reserved and often came off as cold but he made you so warm. You knew he was an extremely compassionate and kind person under his exterior and you admired him for it. Zayne also adored you in the same way. You had gone through so much pain and suffering but you still smiled and shined like the sun.

Over time you adapted to live without your wings but after one specific raid on a collector’s mansion, you knew exactly what the collector’s prized possession was because it belonged to you. You could feel your wings. They still surged with energy and upon seeing them when you went to do follow up investigation, you immediately called to them. They flew towards you and you inspected them, almost not believing the scene in front of you. Zayne stayed close ready to support you, especially if you were to fuse with your wings again, he knew it’d be hard to keep them hidden and it’d just bring up so much previous trauma.

You turned to face him slowly, leaving your wings behind you. You hesitated. Not letting your wings fuse with you yet. Zayne looked into your eyes, trying to comfort you with his presence. After a few seconds, Zayne held out his hand, you took it. His skin was cold but somehow it made yours burn, the heat spreading through your body as your face warmed up. He spoke quietly to you, telling you to take your time. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, your thumb slowly caressing the back of Zayne's hand as he did the same back.

Zayne had always been good at comforting you with his words, maybe it just came naturally since he was a doctor. Regardless, you knew it was exactly what you needed right now. You didn’t know what you’d do after you got your wings back. Would you go home? Would you continue this mission with Zayne? Would having your wings make it harder? Would it make it easier? You confided in Zayne as you spoke your thoughts out loud. Once you were done, you were overwhelmed and he could tell. He started his reply with a sentence that filled you with warmth, hope, and a little bit of giddiness. He speaks, teasing you a bit at the end, his face flushing.

“It doesn’t matter what you are or if you have the wings or not, you’re beautiful and you should follow your heart… especially if it’s here.”

RAFAYEL

Rafayel was a painter “looking for art or inspiration” that you met at an underground event where illegal goods were being sold, but you quickly figured out it was a front. Rafayel was a Lemurian, you sensed it immediately since you weren’t human. As a fae you had the ability to sense certain things, and so did Rafayel. Upon meeting each other at an art exhibition, you quickly exchanged information and agreed to meet up again the next day. You almost simultaneously revealed that you were both after the hunters that destroyed your homes when you finally got to chat alone.

The two of you start to frequent more underground events, both of you being well connected and hiding your true intentions very well. You use the events to gather information and then put your plans into action when your targets are alone. It worked amazingly well, you were both extremely skilled and efficient at what you did. It slowly chipped away at this network that shamelessly destroyed your beautiful homes.

Rafayel was a bit of a loose cannon. The man was so sweet and bashful one second and deadly serious the next. He was so gentle with you but didn’t hesitate when there was business that needed to be done. He could easily switch it on and off too. You were just glad you were on his side of this war.

Both you and Rafayel were out for revenge but something about your partnership changed you two. You both slowly helped each other heal, confiding your worries and traumas in each other. You were still both ruthless when it came to apprehending the people who did you wrong but the tortures stopped and the warmth returned outside of the violence. You two actually started to make good memories and live life instead of just trying to survive. You’d often watch the sunset over the ocean together, it was peaceful and you’d chat about anything and everything.

Eventually, after dozens of raids and missions, Rafayel finds weapons that used to belong to his family at the same time you find your wings again. You kept quiet until the mission was done, knowing you could feel your wings but not wanting to startle Rafayel. You looked at the weapons with him, you put your hand on his back to show your support for him. His eyes stayed glued on the knives and his face was a painful melancholic expression. You rubbed circles into his upper back with your thumb, hoping it could ease some of the pain caused by resurfacing memories.

After ensuring that the weapons would be sent to his personal studio, he continues to explore the mansion with you, following you while you find your wings. You communicated to him about your wings and he knew this would be tough for you too but you were both glad you had each other in this moment.

When you saw your wings in a display case at the end of one of the hallways, you bit back tears. It was a lot to take in. You passed millions of dollars worth of paintings to reach the most priceless thing in this whole building. Rafayel lags slightly behind you, wanting to give you a moment. You turn to face him, telling him that you don’t know if you want the wings back or not. Would they make you complete again? They can’t bring anyone back, can’t take away the pain. You couldn’t hide them like Rafayel could hide his true form, would it be a nuisance?

Rafayel makes his way towards you as you ramble, clearly distressed. He quickly envelopes you in a hug, letting you cry lightly into his chest, a painting of Lucifer on the wall next to you. You stay like that for a while. When he finally pulls back, he cups your face with his hands. You were his fallen angel, he wasn’t always great with his words but he truly spoke from the heart when comforting you like this.

“You never needed these wings to be complete, you’re ethereal with or without them. You’ll always be my angel, no matter what.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[thebreakfastgenie]

beejhawk 👀

LMAO I was just sitting here like "no one even bothers to send me beejhawk anymore" but bless you to the bottom of your pot-stirring heart, anon.

Don’t Ship It

Why don’t you ship it? I have several reasons, which I will get into it, but I'm going to start with this one: I like a happy ending. Beejhawk cannot be a happy ending to me. I'm not entirely convinced any Hawkeye/4077th ship being endgame can be a happy ending, even the ones I like. I want to see Hawkeye move on from the war, which is what GFA is setting him up to do. Beejhawk keeps him stuck with the war defining his life. That's depressing to me. In the larger narrative of Hawkeye's life, it's important to me that the war is unimportant. The war being how Hawkeye met the love of his life gives me the ick. It implicitly suggests the war was somehow worth it. I can't think of a single reason why I would ship it. I think the biggest reason is it's simply too OOC for me. I cannot believe that Hawkeye would be in love with BJ. That is not Hawkeye to me. I actually can believe that BJ would be in love with Hawkeye, even though BJ is extremely straight to me, but I can't see Hawkeye reciprocating, ever. I've read some beejhawk fic and a lot of posts, and the way Hawkeye behaves and is characterized doesn't just feel wrong to me, it feels wrong in the way I hate the most. BJ is usually wildly OOC too. The other big reason is the complete lack of chemistry. They have negative romantic chemistry to me. This is a much smaller reason, but the things people get from beejhawk I get from other ships that make more sense to me. For a best friends ship, I have piercentyre. If I want to ship Hawkeye with someone repressed, I have hawnk or houlihawk. Sometimes I joke about this but it's kind of true that I don't need beejhawk because I have hawnk. The Joke Is Wild? Hawnk did it first. I genuinely do not understand why beejhawk is a ship at all, except that they're the two main guys. If I didn't know how slash culture worked, I would have been shocked that it even existed. In the last few seasons, I'm not even convinced they like each other. I found myself asking "do these guys even like each other?" about the alleged best friends more than once, and I had to actively rev up my suspension of disbelief to enjoy their goodbye properly the first time I watched GFA. I very strongly dislike any framing of MASH as a love story, and I have yet to find beejhawk content that doesn't turn it into the Ballad of Hawkeye and BJ. Piercentyre is fun for me, because it really changes the show very little. Beejhawk requires me to rewire the entire show, and I don't want to. A lot of moments that I adore become less meaningful to me if they're shippy. For example, Where There's a Will, There's a War. "When I wake up remind me to give you a kiss" is an expression of BJ's profound relief and a wonderful resolution to the anxiety and guilt he's been feeling for the whole episode. It's hyperbole that only works because they don't normally kiss or want to kiss. It always brings to mind a lyric from a song about WWII: "and I never kissed so many men as on that afternoon." It's not about romance, it's about being glad to be alive. I just like the show better without beejhawk. I started out a little more neutral and my visceral revulsion built through overexposure. There was also an assumption that you shipped beejhawk that I really resented. Especially because of the implications around it being slash. I am gay, I ship gay ships, I ship other gay ships in MASH. I don't ship beejhawk. I'm not required to ship every single gay ship. So all those beejhawk posts about "gay people love this" or "gay people think that" bother me and turn me off even more.

What would have made you like it? Completely different acting/chemistry. Something completely different from what I ever see the fandom do with it. I could probably be sold on unrequited (BJ's side only) or unhappy ending beejhawk in fic if it was really well done. This is your chance to plug! I think a realistic handling of it would help too. The show gives me a BJ who is as far from leaving his family as a man can be. I need to be convinced that something would change that. Meta claiming he's actually close to leaving in the show does not work for me, it directly contradicts what I see. I need writers to dig into it. Actually show me the dissolution of BJ's marriage, the pain and consequences. Show me how he manages to stay in his daughter's life, if he does. Brokeback Mountain does not shy away from how badly Ennis treats his wife and how absent he is to his children. My experience with beejhawk is that much angst is made of the obstacles to their being together, but they're quickly dispatched with. Tell me what Hawkeye sees in BJ, because I don't see it in the show.

Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it? It inspired me to make these. I've been thinking lately that this lyric fits beejhawk "perhaps we don't fulfill each other's fantasies." If you know me, you know this is something positive from me, because it's from what I think is one of the best songs ever written. There is some interesting potential. Just get out of the true love box! Try something dark, something one-sided (BJ's side), something that ends badly! I do really like their friendship in the first few BJ seasons.

[artiststarme]

I always see fics about Eddie hurting Steve but I never see any about Steve hurting Eddie. So here you go! I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments.

~*~*~*~

Eddie knew that Steve had good intentions and he knew that he was blowing things out of proportion. However, he was so sick of not having control over anything in his life that things were bound to blow up at some point. Between not graduating high school with the rest of his year, being put on house arrest for several months while waiting for his name to clear, and dealing with his life-altering injuries, Eddie was a miniscule way away from breaking down entirely. 

Unfortunately, Steve was the last crack that it took for his whole facade to shatter. 

Eddie didn’t have control over anything. He couldn’t make the townspeople believe his side of things or in his innocence. He couldn’t walk across the stage to pick up his diploma like he’d dreamed of doing for years. He couldn’t even breathe too deeply some days in fear of awakening a flare of chronic pain. 

What he could do though was keep a tidy trailer. He’d taken to organizing the fridge and cabinets in the kitchen in a way that only made sense to him. He’d color-coded his DnD notebooks and tapes in his room. Hell, he’d even organized Wayne’s remaining mug collection in order from most to least flattering colors. He had a system now in his home and it was quite literally the only thing keeping him together. 

So when Wayne dropped him off at home after a particularly grueling physical therapy session and found the kitchen reorganized, he might have lost it a little bit. And when he opened the fridge to find his travel cup of coffee missing, what other option did he have than to cry? He burst into loud, ugly sobs and melted to the floor. It wouldn’t help the pain in his scars when he tried to get back up but he needed to feel close to gravity again. 

Steve came running out of Eddie’s bedroom at the first cry and sunk to his knees beside him desperately. “Eddie, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Can you answer me?”

“Where’s my coffee? I had it on the door of the fridge but now it’s gone. Where is it?” He asked frantically. 

Steve just shook his head, “Eds, it was almost empty and it’s been there for days so I threw it away.”

There went his last shred of sanity. “I made it today! It was fine, you had no right to throw it away! That was the only thing I’ve been looking forward to! Fuck!”

“Eds, relax. There’s another coffee in there and you shouldn’t be drinking so much coffee anyways. The kitchen was really disorganized so I cleaned it up for you, I thought you’d be happy,” Steve said. 

Eddie just shook his head in response, tears still dripping from his face. “I’m the one that organized it! I have a fucking system, Steve! This is the one thing that I can control and you took it away! I asked you not to mess with anything, but you did it anyway.”

Steve just looked at him in confusion, “I just wanted to help-”

“Please leave, I can’t do this right now.” He needed to sob his emotions out in peace and then take a long, grieving nap. 

“Are we breaking up?” Steve whispered.

“No, I’m mad at you because you threw my coffee away and fucked up my system. I’ll call you later just… please leave for now. Please,” Eddie begged him. 

Steve shrugged, picked up his keys, and walked out the door. Then, Eddie was alone with a disastrously organized kitchen and a lack of coffee. They would talk this out later and establish boundaries so this never happened again. But for now, Eddie was alone with his depression, pain, and angst. With little else to do, he tucked his face into his knees and cried. 

Permanent tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1

[cariantha]

Prom

Book: Open Heart, Book 2

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks)

Rating: Teen

Category: Fluff

Word count: 2.2K

Summary: Ethan helps Sawyer remedy one of her biggest regrets.

A/N: This fic was inspired by an ask from @jerzwriter who wanted to know whether Sawyer and Ethan attended their high school proms.

Sawyer slept peacefully in his arms for a couple of hours before waves of excruciating stomach aches began to crash over her. Having done everything he could medically, all Ethan could do now was hold her hand through it and hope that the others would be able to manufacture a miracle.

Sawyer could no longer diminish the severity of the pain. She cries and wraps her arms around her waist as the next bout of sharp cramping cripples her body. 

“I know, Rookie… I know,” he gently rubs her back, feeling otherwise helpless. As her suffering subsides, Ethan eases her back against the pillow and dabs the tears from her face with a tissue. The dull reflection in her eyes concerns him. As the maitotoxin steals the strength from her body, the hopelessness of the situation robs her of the will to fight. 

“What a waste,” she whispers looking up at the ceiling. 

“What’s a waste?”

“My life.”

“How can you possibly think that?” he questions, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. With plastic-covered hands, he brushes some stray hairs from her face.

“I spent half of my life doing what I thought other people expected of me. I’ve spent the other half working myself to death to become a doctor. And for what? I’m finally at the finish line and it’s all been for nothing. I could have spent more time with my family. Hell, I could have had my own family by now. I could have traveled. I could have… I could have gone to prom!” she turns and sobs into the pillow. 

“Sawyer, you can’t think like that. Don’t think about what you didn’t get to do. Think about what you’re going to do when you get out of this room.” 

They both sit in silence for a moment when Ethan shakes his head with a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, wiping away the new tears.

“Prom? Really? That’s one of your biggest regrets?” he laughs.

Sawyer plays it back in her head and starts laughing with him, realizing how ridiculous it sounded. 

“It’s stupid, I know!” she admits, “But it was just one of those rites of passage moments that I missed out on.”

“Why didn’t you go? It’s hard to believe that no one asked the smartest and most beautiful girl in school.”

Sawyer can't help the big smile that spreads across her face. A small win for Ethan as he tries to keep her spirits up. 

“Thank you. No one got the chance to ask because I graduated from high school a year early. I didn’t get to do any of the senior year stuff like spring break, ditch day, prom, graduation parties…” 

“I didn’t go to my prom either.” 

“Really? Why?”

“I couldn’t justify digging into my college savings for an over-the-top one-time date. My dad offered to help with a little extra cash, but I didn’t feel right accepting when he still had to work overtime to make ends meet. And honestly, there wasn’t anyone I was willing to suffer through that kind of evening with.”

“If I had been in your class, would you have asked me?”

Thinking of all the things he would have done differently since meeting Sawyer, “I would have been the first in line to ask and I would have spent my whole damn savings just to impress you.”

She holds onto that thought as another agonizing wave of pain rolls over her.

********************

It’s been several months since the attack and Sawyer slips into a period of depression, the aftermath still too heavy a burden at times. All that hangs in the air as a result of the impending hospital closure causes overwhelming anxiety and sadness. 

Ethan begins to notice the signs. Lack of interest. Withdrawal. Tiredness. Dwelling on the past. 

To his credit, Ethan’s made quite the effort to remedy his biggest regret. Determined to make every precious moment count, he holds Sawyer in his arms every chance he gets and shows her as often as possible just how much she means to him. But he wants to do something more. Provide a distraction. Give her something to look forward to. Make up for lost time and missed chances. And that’s when the idea comes to him. He’s going to take Sawyer to prom. 

********************

“Hey, Dr. Hottie! What brings you to my neck of the woods?” 

“Kyra,” he warns.

“Sorry. I need to remember you can report me to HR now,” she laughs. “What’s up, Doc?”

“I was hoping for your assistance with a personal matter.” Ethan takes a seat in front of her desk and explains his idea. “Given your experience with event planning, I figured you’d be the best person to ask. So, what do you think?”

“What I think, Dr. Ro-man-sey… is you just got my vote for prom king.”

Rolling his eyes at the new nickname, “Ok, so where should we start?”

********************

A few days later, Ethan is in the cafeteria waiting in line for the cashier. From behind him, he hears, “Hi, Dr. Ramsey!” 

“Trinh.”

“Kyra filled us in last night and I’m so excited for Sawyer. Let me know if I can help in any way.”

“Thank you.”

“So, how are you planning to ask her?”

“I was going to mention it tonight during dinner.” 

“No, no, no,” she shakes her head, “You have to come up with a cute prom proposal.”

“A what?”

As they reach the register, Ethan pays for both of their lunches. 

“Thank you!” She follows him to a table, sits down, and continues. “A prom proposal. Hold on… let me show you.”

Sienna pulls out her phone and opens the Pinterest app. She starts showing Ethan the different ideas and he vehemently shakes his head. 

“No.”  

“Ethan, it’s a major part of the prom experience nowadays.” 

As he pinches the bridge of his nose, Sienna scrolls down the page, commenting on the different photos. “What about this one?... Ooh, this would be super cute… Aww, look how sweet…”

“Go back up,” he instructs and points. “That one.”

She pauses to consider, realizing that was probably as “cute” as it was going to get coming from Ethan Ramsey. “Yeah, that’s perfect. Here’s what I think you should do…” 

********************

The next day, Ethan asks Sawyer to meet him for an afternoon break at Derry Roasters. He arrives twenty minutes beforehand to place a special order with the friendly barista who is more than happy to accommodate.

Arriving right on time, Sawyer greets him with a quick peck. “Hi.”

“Hi. I placed our order already,” pulling a chair out for her to sit. He notices the slump of her shoulders and the circles under her eyes. He reaches for her hand and holds it in her lap until their order is called.

“For Ethan!” the barista shouts. 

“Here you go,” Ethan returns, strategically setting the cup in front of Sawyer. 

“Thank y– wait, I don’t think this is mine,” she responds, looking around the café for a pair of teenagers.

“That’s your usual. It’s what I ordered.”

“Yeah, but it says, ‘Prom?’ I think this is meant to ask someone to prom,” showing him the writing on the cup.

“It is. So? Will you go to prom with me?”

“What?” she giggles, looking at him like he’s crazy.

“I want to take you to prom.”

Ethan can see the smile starting to form at the corner of her lips and a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. 

Raising her eyebrows, “How are you going to do that?”

“I have my ways.”

“And when is this happening?”

“Saturday after next. You can go dress shopping this weekend.”

As she looks at the cup in her hand again, a huge smile spreads across her face. Her eyes start to glisten with happy tears and she moves into Ethan’s lap wrapping her arms around his neck. Placing a gentle kiss on his lips, “I would love to go to prom with you, Ethan.” 

“Sawyer! Your date is here!” Sienna sings out. She and the other roommates all gather in the living room to see their friend’s grand entrance. 

With one last check in the mirror, Sawyer makes her way down the hall. A vision in glittering gold sequins, but it's the sparkle that has returned to her emerald eyes that captures Ethan’s attention.  

“Hi,” welcoming him with an uncontrollable smile. Her fingers run over the lapel of his tuxedo jacket, “Wow, you look great.”

“And you look–”

“Appropriate?” she teases. 

“Will that joke ever get old?” he wonders out loud. Leaning close to her ear, “I was going to say hot. If we didn’t have an audience right now…” he trails off placing a kiss on her cheek. Offering his arm, “Shall we?” 

“Oh, real quick. Si? Would you mind taking a couple of pictures before we go?”

Minutes later they step out onto the street and Sawyer can’t believe her eyes. “You rented a limo?” 

“Of course I did. It’s the prom.” As the chauffeur comes around to open the door, Ethan reaches into his pocket. “I have something for you. Hold out your hand. It’s not the traditional flower corsage…” he explains clasping a vintage Tiffany’s bracelet around her wrist, “but I wanted you to have something to always remember this night.”

Looking up into his sincere eyes, she kisses him. “How could I ever forget?” wrapping her arms around his waist, “And in case I forget to tell you later... thank you for the most amazing night.”

While Ethan and Sawyer enjoy a five-star meal at an exclusive restaurant downtown, her friends change and head to the venue with their plus ones. 

As the limo pulls up in front of the hotel and the chauffeur opens the door, Sawyer immediately spots a familiar face. “Alan?” she meets with a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I had to see my boy off to his first prom and get a photo for the mantel.” Taking a step back he squared up his phone, “Squeeze together and say ‘Prom!’” 

Alan escorts them inside, and when Sawyer enters the beautifully decorated ballroom, her eyes begin to swell. There is a dance floor in the middle of the room flanked by a couple of tables on each side. On stage, a live band plays a Bruno Mars’ cover of “Just the Way You Are”, a popular song from the year Sawyer graduated high school. As she turns to Ethan, she sees a small crowd gathering behind them. 

“What?!,” she spins around in shock, “I can’t believe you were all in on this!” 

She hugs each of her friends and exchanges pleasantries with the newcomers. Elijah and Phoebe. Bryce came with his kid sister, Keiki. Jackie, Aurora, and Kyra with dates that Sawyer hadn’t met before. And Rafael who had suggested to Sienna that they go together, knowing she was still struggling to move on after Danny. 

Off to the side, Sawyer noticed one other person.

“And where’s your date, handsome?” she kisses the older man on the cheek. 

“Oh, I’m not here as a guest, my dear. I’m your chaperone for this lovely event,” Naveen jokingly clarifies.

“Well, I’m going to save you a dance anyway. As you know, I sort of have a thing for authority figures,” she quips, backing up and wrapping an arm around Ethan’s waist. 

As the evening carries on, Sawyer hits the dance floor with her friends. Ethan cuts in for nearly every slow dance, only allowing turns for Alan and Naveen. Sawyer tries to get Ethan to stay for a couple of upbeat songs. Arm looped behind her and around his neck, she rocks her hips from side to side. Ethan stands in place, and with his hands on her swaying hips, it looks as though he’s moving along to the beat.

When the band starts playing another lively tune, Ethan makes his way to the bar for a drink. 

“It’s like a trial run!” Naveen shouts over the music.

Alan clinks his glass against Naveen’s.  

“What are you two conspiring about now?” Ethan interrupts.

“Naveen was just saying tonight could be seen as a trial run… for you know… da-da-da-dum, da-da-da-dum,” Alan hums with a crooked smile. 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Ethan rolls his eyes and moves around them. “Bartender, a double?”

After Sienna surprises them both by announcing Ethan as prom king and crowning Sawyer prom queen, the evening begins to wind down. Naveen offers to give Alan a lift back to Ethan’s apartment. The friend group splits off, some heading home while others continue their date night activities elsewhere. 

Sawyer finds Ethan, his hand outstretched to tuck her into his arms.  

“This has been the most amazing night. I don’t want it to be over yet,” she breathes into his chest while squeezing him.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he says, holding up a hotel key card. “I’ve arranged for a private afterparty in a suite upstairs.” Leaning down to whisper into her ear, “If you think I’m not going to make a play on my girlfriend and try to steal her prom virginity… you’ve misjudged me.”

“Well then, consider yourself lucky, Ethan Ramsey. Because I was definitely planning to put out for you tonight.” 

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @potionsprefect @jamespotterthefirst @annfg8 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @jerzwriter @quixoticdreamer16 @mysticalgalaxysstuff @inlocusmads @txemrn @trappedinfanfiction @mvalentine @takemyopenheart @ofmischiefandmedicine @openheartforeverinmyheart @doriopenheart @coffeeheartaddict2 @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @hopelessromantic1352 @kyra75 @lsvdw-blog

[bibibbon]

Hi, I'm looking to show interesting facts about the characters in my version, as well as facts about the story (Rewritten):

First with Izuku:

. Unlike the original, Izuku trains a lot. He is always training before and after school in his garage. He trains his body because, according to him, he wants to believe that this might activate his quirk.

. Izuku knows how to fight, especially boxing. He was taught by his father, Hisashi. For Izuku, this is training, but for his father, it is a way for Izuku to defend himself from bullies. Hisashi was the first to find out about bullying.

. Izuku was diagnosed with depression. His diagnosis happened after his custody was received by All MightStar. He is also autistic, so much so that when he is on the subway, he always listens to music, but he never wears headphones at school, for fear that Bakugou will attack him by surprise.

. Izuku loves to draw. He has several drawing notebooks. He himself says that if his desire to be a hero wasn't so bigger, he would want to work in games and comics. A funny fact: his sneakers were white, but he customized them with green and red colors.

. Izuku had a breakdown when he finally realized that Bakugou was never his friend, to the point of staying in bed for a week, feeling bad about everything that happened to him.

. Izuku sees All MightStar as a father to him, especially after what happened to his parents. All MightStar always makes Izuku feel accepted in his house, so much so that when Izuku went to live in All MightStar's house, he made Izuku's favorite foods.

. Izuku had a friend at Aldera, but she was unfortunately suspended after trying to defend Izuku from Bakugou, in addition to the blonde having influence over the school's directors. Izuku blames himself for this, especially after finding out that his friend had to leave Japan.

. A cute but at the same time sad fact: All MightStar always checks on Izuku before going to sleep, because there are times when Izuku ends up having a nightmare, either about Bakugou or about his parents.

. Due to bullying, Izuku almost had a panic attack on his first day at his new school. He kept repeating that it's not Aldera and that Bakugou isn't there.

What do you think?

Hi @lorddog45 👋

Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!! It made no sense for izuku to do absolutely no training even though he wanted to and planned to be a hero. I think a difficultly you could have izuku face is the mental barrier to training. People keep bullying him, telling him he isn't good enough, and he believes them, which causes him to struggle in really believing himself and putting the full effort to training. Another challenge you can have izuku face is his lack of resources and expertise when it comes to physical training, which cause for him to not be able to train to the best of his ability.

Finally, inclusion of hisashi and having him next active in the plot. I feel like hisashi in izuku's teen life won't be as active due to work abroad, but he would try his best, leaving his son with a few things here and there. Hisashi being the first to find out about the bullying and teaching his son the ropes of finding is a good idea however, even with this I think izuku's own abilities are outmatched by his classmates for various reasons again leaving him insecure.

Love autistic izuku!! I wonder how you will handle izuku's own depression and I wonder how UA as a school would handle izuku's mental issues and if they will offer any support.

Artist izuku is so Canon to me!!! I love seeing people include more of his artistic abilities in their fics. He can be really detailed, and I feel like art is a way for him to express himself and let things out

Realistic tbh adding izuku's reaction with him also being autistic as a reason and deep understanding that bakugo was never his friend and is incredibly horrible to him

Oh, so izuku loses his parent here, dang. Orphan izuku strikes again. This is an interesting plot point, and having all mightstar take him in would cause some scandal talk, I imagine. I wonder what happened to inko and how you will be characterising her here.

Izuku having a friend before ua but her suffering a horrible fate and leaving him would definitely make him think that he isn't worth having friends and would make him making friends with team ultra more difficult. Add this with her probably being the only person to help izuku after what happend to his parents and finding out that bakugo was never his friend this ends up hitting hard

All mightstar and izuku both trying to find comfort in one another is such an intriguing thing to me. I can imagine that with the izuku angst of him having nightmares ends up being matched with all mightstar and his own issues of wanting to protect but not being able to do anything as izuku suffers from nightmares

[chiocchi]

Chiocchi!

Big fan of your artistry. I love your art so much! And those graphic novels you have on ao3??? Heaven sent! I use them as an imagery reference if I read any similar trope haha!

I asked the same question to leafiloaf since I love them too, but I'll be very interested to know your artistic journey if you don't mind sharing. How did you start with your art?

Tysm for being in this fandom ❤️

youknowmevj! omg thank you so much! You're too kind 😭🥺❤️❤️❤️ And yess lots of love to leafiloaf

Thanks for the ask! I've never told anyone about it and I'm so excited I'll give you so much unnecessary context. Oops long post.

My artistic journey

I've enjoyed drawing since I was little, but mostly I just drew doodles in my notebook. Anime was a big inspiration for my style and I wanted to create digital illustrations too. When I was a teenager, I tried using a mouse and a PC, and my finger and some app on my phone, but the results were always terrible. I told myself it was because I didn't have a drawing tablet, so "of course my drawings will look ugly" and stopped trying.

However, I promised a discord friend that I would do a drawing for her in December 2020. So, I downloaded this app called "Ibis Paint" on my phone and, with all my effort despite my lack of ability, I drew Harry using the app and my finger jskldhfsa

I was so hesitant and nervous about showing it to her. I could tell it wasn't pretty, just "weird and awkward", and I felt embarrassed. But she told me it was good (LIES) and somehow convinced me to share it with others on the server. Despite feeling shy, I shared it anyway. To my surprise, three people told me it was pretty! I appreciated their kindness.

It wasn't until March 2021 that I returned to drawing digitally and on a more consistent basis. I was mainly doing fanart for a game that I liked.

In May or June (I can't remember exactly), I stumbled upon an artist who created incredible art using Ibis Paint. And I realized that I didn't need a drawing tablet, just more practice and skill, because if they could do it, then I could do it too! That was the moment I began taking art more seriously (still as a hobby, though!).

Due to the pandemic, I had a lot of free time, which I used to watch a lot of tutorials, practice gesture and follow the advice of artists I liked. With every drawing I made, I could see an improvement, which motivated me even more to keep on working hard (drawing became a source of comfort during those depressing times. It was just really fun).

In late 2021, I mentioned to a childhood friend that I wanted to buy a drawing tablet, and he asked me if I wanted his old one, which I excitedly accepted. Finally, I had the tool that would make my art incredible… or so I thought! I was terrible with it. For the first few months, I preferred Ibis paint and my finger. But I eventually got the hang of it! What I love the most are the multiple brushes and pressure settings. I'm such a hoarder, even if I don't use all of them ksklajdl.

In 2022, I participated in several bigbangs and zines, but what I'm most excited to talk about is the tomarry comic that I started.

My tomarrymort art

I've read tomarrymort fics since 2017, but I wasn't active on the fandom. In 2020, I joined a writer's server (all love to Amanda) and met the friend I mentioned earlier. So technically, you could say my love for tomarrymort lead me here kek

Even though my main inspiration was a game, here is some fic fanart I made.

This is my first tomarry art (July 27th, 2021). It's a scene from Genius by the Numbers. I think it looks weird kjdshk

I also made art for A Mating of Convenience, what started in beautiful rooms, Dripping Fingers and for Ale, beloved. (I think I've never posted these before.)

Then two things happened: I saw comic on ao3 (If I'll Ever See You by festivewind) and I was like "WOW! THAT'S SO COOL" and "omg we can upload comics!"

The second thing was me being rejected as a webtoon background artist (naturally, as I wasn't good enough for the specifics) and the spite made me want to do my own so I could improve my weakness (the grind never stops 💪🔥).

I read some of my old notes for story ideas (I'm not good at writing but I still had some snippets of stories). And boom! Love triangle but the 3 of them are idiots (affectionate). Fun fact: the original version had a murder, someone in Azkaban and someone hating the other forever :D

Don't pretend started as an anonymous work because some of my friends knew my AO3 username and I was afraid of screwing up the format (I don't know html) and looking like a fool DKJALKSJL I was also afraid of possible backlash (I'm an over-thinker).

None of that happened (comments were very kind and nice!) But idk, it was nice being anon. I'm awkward and shy and I usually don't know what to say to compliments (Sometimes a "thank you" doesn't feel enough but that's all my brain can offer 😭)

Then I made some tomarry christmas art and shared it on TRoR discord server and someone asked me if I had Tumblr and I said no but that gave me the idea of making one.

Since I planned Don't pretend as being a long story, I realized it'd take me a long time to finish it and I wanted to contribute to the complete tomarrymort works! That's the reason I took a pause and made A Soulmate Like You.

Anyway, I made this tumblr on January 2023, and the plan was to fill it with art so, eventually, when I found the courage to make my works non-anon, I could link to this page. Except that I posted one drawing, and that was enough for isalisewrites to know it was me HJKASDJLA. So I stopped the anonymous thing.

I'm still not used to being "perceived" 👁️👁️ but I've learned it's not bad. People have been really kind and I think I'm less shy now! I'm very happy to be part of this fandom with lots of kind and supportive people and incredible fics and fanart <3

[twosides--samecoin]

heard it was your birthday... so here's a little doodle of my favorite Mac torture scene from Long Time Coming (festively censored) <3

SDFIGJHDFLIUGHSLDFIJKGHSDKFJDFSKGJLDJHNFB?!??!?!?!

I LOVE THIS LMAO THANK YOU SO MUCH LOL. AN HONOUR AND A PRIVILEGE, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK-

This scene was fun but also felt dangerous to write in the "should I release this" sense. I had not read anyone putting their characters through what I put RJ through and had a feeling it would not go over well. It was another in a list of reasons my fic felt to me like it wouldn't necessarily go over well with others (the amount of words and description, asking readers to imagine Fallout happening in places that aren't in-game let alone mentioned, inserting French language and bilingual conversations, starting not even with Cranky Cready but Depressed Cready because we start at Med-Tek as failure point and not anticipated story beat; hell you barely see Boston or my canon SoSu, Jack, until several chapters in) and I am happy to know it is not the case, nor did it garner much controversy at all.

Despite reservations I always set out to do things differently, trust the process and stay true to what I wanted to see in Fallout. At the end of the day I could not get the scene out of my head. It also made my story a "enemies to XYZ" story for real, it solidified a lot of nuance in my characters. Livvie in particular in doing war crimes out of, well, desperation, lack of trust in RJ's story and defence of her homeland.

Thank you thank you thank you once again @outwithfever and: a throwback to Chapter 4, Ahead By A Century - read more on AO3 here if you like!

“I don’t like doing this either,” she told him, her voice raised over his gurgling. “The next thing out of your mouth better be what the Brotherhood sent you for, you fuckin’ punk bitch-”

He raised his voice back at her. “I-I’m not fucking with them, okay? Jesus Christ, would you just listen-”

Another awful stream hit his chest and he yelped before water rushed around his face. He shook his head back and forth to avoid the water pooling in his mouth, but it didn’t help any for his nose. 

The waterfall stopped and he gasped and coughed anew. 

She allowed him to catch his breath as he took in huge, wheezing breaths, grateful for air. A minute or two passed; RJ was too scared to say much at all. 

“Where’d the tin can boys pick you up, huh?” he heard her demand as he felt his heart thump hard into his throat. “You some prairie boy they tricked into joining or some shit? How much are they paying you?” 

Unbeknownst to her, water just made him cranky. “I don’t give a shit what a prairie boy is but I bet it’s better than being a goddamn Vaultie-”

«Esti d'épais à marde! T'es si cave-»

He regretted how he said it, because it sounded a little too much like the way it felt when a Brotherhood soldier called him a local. More water. Rinse-fucking-repeat.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Peach Pit - a Magnus Archives Fic

An AU Somewhere Else - part of the Magnus Monsterverse series.

Spoilers for the whole podcast.

Something is definitely unusual about Jon's experience with the Eye.

Several cheesy sci-fi explanations and eight Jonah Magnuses later, Jon has more questions than ever - but at least it seems like he might have found a new friend.

AO3

-------

Manuela’s printout made my head spin.

If I let go, if I relaxed the willed mitosis that kept me sane—that retained me as me and not an It to It— her printout would all make sense. 

It tried—pushed that temptation before me, promised without words what utter bliss it would be to know everything here and now.

It would be bliss. I know it would. But that was not what I wanted.

Pleasure is not permission, I told It, because whether or not It understood those words, I did.

“Would you mind explaining what this is and how you obtained it?” I said.

She looked quite surprised. “You don’t just know?”

“I could.” They were all listening. I suddenly wondered if this were a test. “I have no intention of ever giving the Eye unfettered access to my mind again, however, and so, I am limited.”

“Amazing,” said Leitner, clapping his hands together and startling me. “Remarkable. I knew you’d be safe to bring here.”

“Hush,” said Gertrude. “You mean that, do you?”

So it was a test. “Yes.” 

“Even if your lover passed away again?” she said, and I didn’t care what Leitner claimed—those were the eyes of someone who would absolutely try to kill me.

But I wasn’t what I once was.

I knew fear. I certainly had plenty of my own. Yes, I was scared of Jane, of Sarah, of what they could all do.

But I was a little bit scary myself, now. Of course, I could probably still die—but I wasn’t sure how anymore.

I had to take a moment to answer. “First… are you threatening him?”

Her eyebrows rose. “No.”

“Okay. Well, there’s no reason to assume he’ll die for a very long time.”

“The Lonely does not extend lifespan,” Gertrude said.

“Yes, but he’s healthy, lacks genetic predispositions toward inheritable illnesses, and currently suffers from nothing so much as a lack of sleep.” I froze, mouth open.

Gertrude’s lips quirked. “Only that, eh? I thought you weren’t knowing things.”

“Apparently, when it’s really important, it slips through,” I said primly.

Gertrude snorted. “Still. You avoided my question.”

“No, I’m laying foundation for an answer. I’m not wracked by fear of him dying.” I stopped, swallowed, continued. “Also, I don’t think I can express how badly depressed I was when this… when he was murdered.”

His hand was my anchor.

“And a thousand years engulfed in that didn’t make it worse?”

“No, because the Eye was trying to comfort me,” I said, because it was true. “It’s stupid, though. Meant well, I truly believe, but is stupid—and so all it knew to do was remove me from the hurt.”

“Meant well?” said Gertrude with great disbelief.

“The Eye loves me. Damned if I know why,” I said.

She stared. “They don’t love people.”

“They certainly do. It just doesn’t generally turn out well for the object of that love.”

They all stared at me. Gertrude looked offended. Manuela looked fascinated. Leitner was unreadable behind his stupid green spectacles.

They were being ridiculous. “This shouldn’t be that strange,” I said. “They may not be living things like us, but they certainly have tastes and preferences.”

“I knew it! ” said Manuela, slamming her fist into her thigh.

“Manuela,” Leitner started. 

“They have tastes! Opinions! Thoughts!”

“Only in the most basic sense,” I said. “Look, we’ve dropped off the point: I wouldn’t be great if he died, no. But I wouldn’t do what I did then, either. I don’t know how much you know about what happened, but when m… when…” Martin squeezed my hand, and I could keep going. “When he died, we’d been walking for uncountable time through a living hellscape, a nightmare world in which every living thing capable of suffering did, and all their misery was shoved forcefully into my brain.”

Gertrude frowned. “Wait a moment. Are you saying the world ended before you entered your thousand year state?”

“Yes.”

She frowned harder. “Explain.” 

“When Martin died, the world already belonged to the Beholding.”

“How?”

“I was tricked by a man named Jonah Magnus,” I said.

Manuela stiffened.

“What?” Oh, no, I wasn’t letting that go. “What?”

“We just found one,” she said.

I stared at her. “One… what?”

“I mean, we know of eight,” she said, glancing between Gertrude and Leitner and me. “But there’s one who’s actually ready to fetch. His world’s ended. His Fear is feeding on him, and he’s not having a good time. So, I mean. What do you mean, he tricked you?”

So I didn’t know what my face did.

I felt pale. I felt… sort of tingly and numb ( vasoconstriction, the narrowing of blood vessels due to emotional stress). I realized I wasn’t breathing only because Martin came around, knelt in front of me, and cupped my face.

“Hey,” he said.

Him. His eyes. Him. I melted into him, against him, clung to him like a rock in a storm. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”

I was shaking. “You don’t understand who he is.”

Martin knew I wasn’t talking to him.

“We do,” said Gertrude. “Possibly more than you, since you’ve only encountered one of him.”

“No, you don’t know who he is,” I said, sitting up, glaring over Martin’s shoulder. “You don’t know what he’s capable of!”

“Ending the world, evidently,” said Leitner. “Like you.”

“No, not like me! At least the damage I did, I did with my own damn hands!” I snapped.

“Shhh. Jon. I get it. They will too, in time. Shhh. It’s not that one. It’s not that Jonah.” Martin hesitated. “I mean. They said everyone in your world was dead, so it couldn’t be that Jonah, could it?”

“What happened to him in your timeline, Martin? When you had to kill me.”

Manuela flinched at the words—and that was right. That’s how it should be. She had a human heart, and I really, really liked her.

“You killed him,” Martin whispered. “You stabbed him and took his place.”

My jaw dropped. “Oh,” I said after a long moment.

He watched me. Watching for… I don’t know. Some response.

My face burned. “I didn’t stab him.”

“What did you do, then?” said Leitner, sounding absolutely fascinated.

“I ate him.”

“You what? ” said Gertrude.

“I mean… not literally.” Fuck it. I pressed my face to Martin’s shoulder. I didn’t want to see how anyone was looking at me now.

“How?” whispered Martin.

Him, I could answer. Him, I would answer. “After you died. After I… lost myself completely. After I turned to the Eye, because… everything else was already gone. When it had me, when it… eased me. We went to the Panopticon.”

“We?”

“I... I suppose it was an I, but not really. It was we.”

“Go on,” murmured Martin.

I sighed. “Jonah was fine with it. If that matters.”

“Fine with what?” said Leitner.

“Becoming one with the Eye. That’s what he thought of it as.”

“And… what did you think of it as?” said Leitner. “What did you even do?”

“I don’t know how to explain that,” I mumbled into Martin’s shoulder. “The Eye ate him. I was the Eye. But we didn’t literally eat? His body fell and rotted. I don’t know.”

“That’s absurd,” said Leitner.

“It’s incredible,” said Manuela. “Jon. I need to pick your brain. Please.”

I sighed. “I don’t know anything, Manuela. Not really.”

“But your experiences, your impressions—”

“Manuela,” Leitner began in a chiding tone.

“Please, Jon,” said Manuela. “I’ll pay you.”

I paused. “Shit. We do need money here, don’t we?”

Gertrude laughed. She sounded like she hadn’t expected to. “You were floating for a while, weren’t you?”

My face burned again. “Oh, yes. Freed from the demands of Capitalism. How very blessed I was,” I drawled.

“Please,” said Manuela again.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate,” Leitner said.

Maneula flipped him off. He sighed.

Right. She reminded me of Sasha, and had summarily gone from liked to among my favorite people territory. “If you really think it’ll do any good, yes. I will,” I said. “Ah… about Jonah…”

“Let’s discuss that as part of everything,” she said. “Obviously, we don’t want Jonah here if he’s a danger.”

“He is,” I said.

“Let’s find out together! Nothing’s decided yet, after all. Here.” She dug into her pocket and produced a business card. “We’ve barely even talked about you yet. Listen—I have satellite feeds monitoring everything. Surges of power (which are observable via atmospheric and magnetic disturbance, heat, radiation, and more, believe it or not), increases in psychological events or unexpected deaths… you have no idea.”

“It sounds like a police state,” I said before I could help myself.

She shook her head. “I’m the only one who gets to see all of it—as annoyed as that makes some people —and I don’t have any authority to act on it, nor the power to do so even if I did.”

I stared at her business card; I was still draped on Martin, and I did not give a damn who saw. (Maybe a little. Maybe I did it at them, as well.) “Do I… call you?” All it had was her name and a number.

“Yes! I’ll come get you.”

“Portal travel?”

“Well, I’m based out of the Alps, so yes, you’ll prefer that.”

“Oh.” I swallowed. “So. Tell me what happened. What I did. Cliff’s Notes.”

She looked thrilled. “I’m calling it prisming.”

“Weird nomenclature? You?” said Gertrude, dryly. “Thought I’d never see the day.”

“Prisming,” said Manuela, like tuning back in after a commercial break. “Of course, you understand the concept—when light, passing through glass, slows and bends at different wavelengths, separating into the colors that make up light, which we normally can’t see.”

Martin snorted. “Are we really doing that goofy sci-fi movie trope?”

I pulled back to stare at him. “What are you talking about?”

His smile was so adorable I wanted to wrap it around my heart like a blanket. “We have got to fix your viewing habits. These movies—they’ll  be talking about something wild like the loss of Earth’s magnetic field, and then they’ll demonstrate it by roasting a peach pit with hairspray and a lighter.”

I laughed.

I laughed hard. I couldn’t help it. It had been so long since I’d encountered anything so silly. “What! What? You’re joking!”

“Not even a little,” he said, utterly pleased with himself.

“You ought to already know about such things,” said Gertrude warily.

It was another test, but I was still laughing and couldn’t be bothered being intimidated this time. “The Eye knows everything, but doesn’t interact with it. That’s a human response.” I wiped my eyes. My smile faded. “I told you the condition it had me in. Believe me, I spent no time with nonsense like that. I would have missed Martin too much.”

Except… It did care about things now, didn’t It?

It was amused by Brother Love. This was new; I could feel it, feel that this development was relatively recent. How could this be? 

I was not going to volunteer the question. Not yet.

“Hm,” Gertrude said. “And do you have the memoirs of all It knew?”

“I honestly don’t know. I feel like I’ve woken from a coma—which I have done, by the way. You’re not… you feel very weird for a while. You are yourself, but not.”

“You were in a coma?” said Manuela. “Tell me about it?”

“We haven’t even finished the current conversation.”

“I don’t think we’ll finish this one for a while,” said Manuela, back on track. “I haven’t figured out how you did it. To be honest, I assumed you’d understand this,” she said, holding up the printout, “and could help explain it to me.”

“Oh.” Disappointed. Embarrassed. “I could try to help?”

Leitner sighed. “Really, Manuela?”

“Well, this is quite new,” she said. “None of the Eye avatars have done anything like this before.”

I blinked at her. “They haven’t?”

“No. It’s one of the reasons I want to investigate your theory about the Eye liking you. That could be what makes this different.”

“But then what are other avatars like?”

“Lenses. Magnification, clarification, seeing through whatever to the truth of things.”

“Peach pits,” Martin mumbled, and set me off again.

“Well,” I finally said. “There may be a way to access all that knowledge, but right now, I don’t know how to do it safely. The Eye is too used to having all of me. It’s a fire hydrant, not a faucet.” I grinned at Martin.

He grinned back and rolled his eyes.

“Right, well,” said Manuela. “What you did is somehow break the hunter—who is effective because they are basically combinations of various avatars—into individual parts. That’s not a little thing.”

“Wait. I did? And they’re what, merged ? Like some sort of Flesh abomination?”

“Not at all. It’s much more homogeneous than that.”

“They’re working together?” Horror erased what amusement I had.

“Or being forced to.”

I stared at her. “Why would someone do that? We’re up against some… mad scientist of the Fears? How is that even possible?”

“We don’t know, but it seems like that, doesn’t it? It’s the reason Jurgen decided to bring people like you here who’d do anything to stop it—it was already happening when we arrived. Otherwise, we’d have to watch the world end again.”

Martin’s eyes were huge. It seemed I wasn’t the only one hearing this for the first time.

“Are you going to tell him everything?” said Leitner, dry.

“Am I going to tell… an avatar of the Eye…” Manuela began with such sarcasm that I think even Tim would’ve been impressed.

“Yes, all right, fair point,” Leitner said, sounding pouty.

He probably wanted to feel important by doling things out. That, or he didn’t trust me. Well, that went both ways. “And why are they called hunters, then?” I said. “Is that the primary Fear they’re made of, or something?”

“No, that was just the name sticking before we could be clever about it,” she said.

That made sense. Humans did that sort of thing—not that I was about to share such an observation. It would make me sound too far outside humanity.

I wasn’t. I was still me. I had to believe that.

“Jurgen, I’m done here,” said Gertrude. “If there’s nothing else for me to do…?”

“You are?” He sounded so surprised.

“Yes. I have come to my conclusion.”

I peered at her over Martin’s shoulder.

“You have?” said Leitner.

“I’ll send you my report, but some of us don’t have the luxury of sitting around in plush chairs all day, staring at stained glass.”

I couldn’t help snorting. 

“Everyone is in such a mood today,” said Leitner, and waved his hand at her dismissively. “I want that report.”

Gertrude waved back—with far more disdain than he’d managed—and simply left without another word to us.

“Was that good?” I murmured.

“Hell if I know,” Martin murmured back. “She didn’t come stare at me in any of my meetings.”

“Well, you not knowing alters things,” Manuela said, “but it’s not a dead end. Give me a few days to correlate and collect more data, then let’s talk.”

“All right. I can do that.”

“I think the question, Jon, is whether you can do it again,” said Leitner.

“I don’t know. I’d advise not making any plans around an incident hat could’ve been a fluke,” I said.

“Do you think it was?” Leitner said evenly.

“I don’t know. It could have been some lingering effect of… everything. It’s a risk. Don’t plan around it.”

He huffed. “Fine. But you could save lives.”

“If that’s the case, we’ll figure something out—but I won’t risk anyone in the process,” I said.

And this time, I received the dismissive hand-wave. “If there’s nothing else, Manuela?”

She grinned at me. “A week.”

“A week. I’ll call.”

She stood, gathered her lawn chair, looked around as though to be certain she hadn’t dropped anything, and opened a portal.

I almost saw how she did it—her lenses example, seeing where she wanted to go, and in the process, tunneling a way there.

Was that good? Did it damage something? I had no idea.

She was gone, and it was significantly less comfortable with only Leitner staring at us. “You really are proving to be as interesting as I’d hoped,” he said.

“I… you’re welcome?” I said, uncertain as to the pleasantries in this situation.

“We’ll obviously need to dive into this further, but both Manuela and Gertrude seem to think you are no threat to us—which was my main concern.”

“And you’d have done what, if they thought otherwise?” I said.

“Well, I don’t know. We’d attempt capture and rehabilitation.”

“Like Nikola.”

“Yes. Taking your life would be the absolute last step. We’ve had enough death. All of us.���

I needed to see Nikola for myself before determining whether that truly was the better option. “I don’t intend to die or harm anyone. I just want to live, and I don’t mean mere survival. All of this took my life from me.”

“I understand,” he said, and sounded like he did. “It’s what they all want, and I try to give opportunity for.”

It was awkward now for a different reason. I wished I could just believe him; it would be lovely if he were honest. 

And maybe he was, but that would have to be proven over time. “Are we done?”

“Yes. Oh—stop and see Agnes on your way out. She’ll give you a lunch voucher.”

Oh. All right.

We held hands and left.

Agnes was indeed there—her hair cut short, dressed as though it were 35 Celsius in here. She smiled; she eyed me in a way I was coming  to recognize as Oh, I killed you in my world, and handed us little coupons for lunch across the street.

We both knew we’d be saving those coupons for later.

I waited until we were outside again before speaking. “How can you stand me?”

“What?” Martin said, startled.

My voice shook. “They all kill me. Even you had to kill me. I drove everyone to it. How can you even—”

He kissed me. Arms around, holding tight so I could not blow apart. “I didn’t want to. You didn’t drive me to it. It was the Web’s plan from start to finish.”

I stared at him.

“She was trying to eacape,” he said. “But to do that, the Eye had to be lured to another world—and that could only happen with you as both bait and bear trap. We both fell for it, Jon. It wasn’t your fault.”

I stared more. “You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this.”

“I did. If it was your fault, I’d tell you. But all you did was be yourself, not know what you were doing, and be used. By everyone. I’m not too happy about eight Jonah Magnuses, either.”

“Maybe we can put them all in a room, and they’ll eat each other,” I muttered.

“I’m pretty sure with that many of them together, they would just rule the world.”

“Or wreck it.” I leaned in. “I suppose it might not be like that. Are different versions of people different here?

“Wildly. We saw the Evans earlier, remember? One’s full Lonely; the other went Desolation.”

“Damn,” I said, trying to picture it.

“They get along like siblings—because they just do—but they are very different people.”

I made a face like tasting something awful. “I suppose I’ll at least look at him. Jonah.”

“You don’t have to. He’s not your responsibility.”

“I know him better than anyone here. I do have to, Martin.”

And Jared pulled up. I hadn’t even noticed Martin messaging him. “Right,” Jared said, rising impossibly huge from his vehicle like all the passengers of a clown car in one, and opening the back door for us.  He eyed Martin. “This’s what you wanted, eh? No wonder I weren’t your type.” And he laughed wetly.

Martin shrugged. “Always was. Not your fault.”

“Eh,” said Jared. “Killed him anyway, my time. Don’t feel like I owe nothing bad now.”

“How did you…” I said.

“Got these letters, yeah? An’ your picture. Told me where you’d be. Got into the Institute and there you were—but not for long.”

“Jonah Magnus again,” I murmured to Marrin.

“Coincidence.”

I was beginning to wonder. “I need to talk to Jane.”

“Sure? Let’s do lunch at home, first.”

“Do… do I have food?” I said, eyes wide.

Martin laughed. “I do. It’s time you came to my flat, anyway.”

“You gonna get in or not?” Jared said.

We got in.

I kept Martin’s hand between mine. “Thank you for being there.”

He just held me.

We were silent the rest of the ride back. And nothing was stopping us. Nothing was caging us in, or chaining us down. I still felt increasingly trapped, and I had no idea what to do.

The Eye tried to tell me about Jared’s secret love affair with some Corruption avatar, but I didn’t let that get too far.

Its delight unnerved me. It had changed. 

And I was beginning to wonder if I was the reason it had. 

[tsarinatorment]

Ill give TSATS this one specific thing: Will having seasonal affective disorder did not occur to me at ALL before I started the book, but regardless of how I felt about the book overall, that was definitely a "Why didn't I think of that. Of course that makes perfect sense." moment for me. A child of the sun god with the specific type of major depressive disorder where a lack of sunlight causes you to experience severe depressive/lethargic episodes? Okay that one's fair.

It does make sense as a concept; I've seen fics roll with that idea before and it is a neat little idea - unfortunately, in the book that very quickly fell by the wayside alongside anything else that could possibly mean Will doesn't have a perfect charmed life. So quickly, in fact, that I never actually really thought that the book was seriously implying it in the first place - hell, if it was, where was it once they were in the Underground and then Tartarus? It would explain why Will was on edge (beyond the fact that he was literally being killed by the environment), but we're only ever told by the narrative that he's being an asshole (even though he never is, but that's a whole other complaint I have with TSATS), despite the earlier hint that would have worked so well - so I can only assume that it was not, in fact, Mark's aim to imply that Will has it. ((In fact, I believe that in their recent interview they stated that they only gave Will one of those because they used to have one - they never acknowledged the idea that Will might have SAD, which would sadly confirm that it was never their intent))

Will being prepared enough to have a sun orb for Tartarus is one of the things that actually made sense to me - Will's a practical and pretty self-aware kid, and while he (and Chiron) seriously screwed up a lot of the packing, that actually harked back to the prepared Will Solace we saw on the quest in TON - but like most of TSATS, the little backstory detail added in didn't... actually... add up?

It also doesn't actually match with TOA - we see Will in the middle of winter there, but we never get any indication that he's struggling because of that - and as flawed as Apollo's narration is when it comes to himself, he's always super-aware of his children and gives us very accurate descriptions of what's going on with them, their little nervous ticks and the like. It would also have made a lot of sense, if they did have seasonal depression, that he would be feeling incredibly guilty about it, perhaps even thinking it's even worse because he's not the sun right then, he can't even try to alieviate it. Apollo's determined to tell us how terrible a parent he is (even though he's not, for a god) and that would have been such an obvious thing to use, even tying in to his own woes about being mortal, that I'd say its lack of acknowledgement of TOA is a strong indication that the three kids in camp during winter, at the least, don't suffer from it.

[starsarefire824]

I'm that anon that started your fic today and I just read chapter 6 and omg... omfg... I stayed 5 minutes staring at my screen.

The angst, the way i can understand that everyone is right and wrong at the same time?Lucas has all the right to feel hurt with Mike because it's implied that Lucas was talking to Mike about Max and how he feels about her and in Lucas POV Mike was acting behind his back and I understand Mike because he was so confused and he doesn't even know what made him and Max do that anyway. But Lucas was so wrong for the way he said those things and the fact that Mike was drunk and Mike said that disgusted thing about El and god how i loved that punch.

At this point, ngl I'm with the party in this one. While I feel sorry for Mike and understand there is a lot inside his head right now, that doesn't give him the right to hurt his friends, he needs to have more responsible regarding of the others feelings like... he knows Will loves him but keeps giving him missed signals, giving him hope without even consider what this may be doing with Will? I'm glad Will stood up for himself. I'm so mad at him right now, not because of what happened with Max but how he is acting towards everyone. Like Lucas said to him, he can't keep hurting people just because he hates himself.

And... Wtf El? If I was Nancy i would glare at her saying "I don't care how powerful you are and what you can do with it. Do something like that to my brother ever again and I will kill you myself".

Anyway im loving it, it's so good 😭

AAAAH SO glad you're liking it anon! I am so stoked you decided to try out the first couple of chapters!

And WOO BOY, lol. I totally agree! It's hard when you can kinda see where everyone is coming from, but still find some of their choices severely lacking! Lucas is right, Mike is so wrapped up in his own inner turmoil that he can't see how the way he acts hurts Will. He'd convince himself that the sky is fucking purple if it meant that he wouldn't have to look himself in the eye and accept himself for who he is. But, also, it's like....I get it Mike. He's very repressed, it's the 80s, he's very young, he's dealing with his depression and anxiety on top of it. etc etc. It's a lot. And Will, as we have learned so far, has confided in Dustin and Lucas and obviously El, but he's been pretty quiet regarding Mike. Sure, it's obvious to everyone else, but I think, without words, Mike could find any little thing to convince himself that it's all in his head. But that doesn't excuse his actions. And it DOESN'T excuse what he said at El. That had everything to do with his self-hatred and little to do with how he actual feels about her.

And El! I mean, I get it, girl, but yeah...her reaction after the punch is pretty insane. But, I feel like it's pretty canon that when El is hurt or having trouble processing her emotions, it's pretty typical for her to respond with anger, and a lot of times that ends up in slightly extreme use of her powers. I haven't really explored that part of her personality in a fic before, so I thought it would be fun/interesting to do that here. Anyway, thanks for giving it a shot, and even though Madwheeler wasn't necessarily your thing, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! Thanks for the lovely ask and thanks for ranting to me all your thoughts! I love it so much!!!! ❤︎❤︎❤︎

[thaleleah]

I can see Coryo always in the library trying to study but keeps getting distracted by librarian reader. Maybe hoping that she would come over to help him study by taking up the space beneath the desk to help urge him along for all his hard work and effort. Maybe he's so head over heels obsessed that he's so needy and keeps needing to run to the bathroom every time he watches her lean over the front desk or reach up on her tip toes to place a book away on the highest shelf. Or maybe he's more angry about the distraction and aggressive about it, thinking about all the places he can fuck her in the library and make her pay for being such a distraction to him and his studies. He could corner her in a deserted part of the library and fuck her against a bookcase 👀 Plenty of delicious options

THIS. WAS. TOO. BEAUTIFUL 🩷 the fucking her against the bookcase just made me cum giggle 🥰

Honestly, its just same shit, different day. Tons of people are so tired of it tho and they're legitimately traumatized with how bad the trolls and bullies have gotten that a lot of people have deactivated or are taking a break until A3 comes out so everything is kind of in a lull and there's a severe lack of active people and new content so even tho I love Avatar with my whole heart, its kind of hard to stay excited.

These people are so fucking bored and sad with their own pathetic lives that they need to come online and bully and harass people. And all because of something that is fictional 🤦🏻‍♀️

We love a bad booyyyyyyy 🥵 I don't even care that he's in prison, I'll break in there just to get to him. Just put us in the same cell together, I can take him (not in a fight)

I seriously need to get fucked nonconed by him HARD in that prison cell 🥵

Also, how are you doing ml? 🩷

THIS. WAS. TOO. BEAUTIFUL 🩷 the fucking her against the bookcase just made me cum giggle 🥰

Me tooooo lol. I need like an entire month uninterrupted from life so I can write everything I want to write cause this fic/chapter every 4 months thing is not working for me

These people are so fucking bored and sad with their own pathetic lives that they need to come online and bully and harass people. And all because of something that is fictional 🤦🏻‍♀️

FACTS! There's literally no need for it. It's so unnecessary.

I seriously need to get fucked nonconed by him HARD in that prison cell 🥵

That's all I'm gonna be thinking about while watching the movie

Also, how are you doing ml? 🩷

I'm doing okay! Stressing a little with the upcoming holidays so everything is a little all over the place but I should have the day tomorrow all to myself to relax and hopefully get some writing done. Writing honestly really is my happy place so I get so depressed when I can't do it. I've been trying to shop to get ideas on what I can get people for Christmas, but literally no one wants to tell me what they want so I'm just scouring the internet and going to stores like "what do i buy?!?!" I hate shopping for things last minute but it always seems to happen lol.

I've been searching for new recipes to try tho on Pinterest and TikTok and I've found some yummy looking ones that I'm excited to try. That's about it lol

How about you, babes? 🧡

[quotidian-oblivion]

ONE MORE THING I FORGOT (OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT THE MOST IMPORTANT TIP OF ALL)

Be grateful for what you have.

I know it's cliche. I know it's frustrating to hear that. I know it sounds like useless advice.

But trust me, this is THE most important tip of ALL.

I fell into a creative depression when a fic of mine wasn't as popular as some of my favorite authors. I wanted to be just like them and be a big name, but a while later, after several self-discovery journeys (which included finding more about Islam, religion is a part of a person's identity and it sure has contributed a LOT to my mental health and state of self), I realized that gratefulness is the best treasure anyone can have.

Being grateful with the hits I have right now, with the kudos I have right now, with the comments I have right now, with the subscribers have right now, with the stats I have right now, with the followers I have right now... It really, really made me feel alive. It made me feel okay. It made me realize that, hey, I'm a big name after all. Maybe not to everyone, but to a good dozen of people. And I'm the biggest of names to the people who are the closest to me - my friends. My moots. The people I hold entire threads and threads of conversations in the comments with. If I'm a good person to these people, then that's all I really need.

Having this sort of mindset will make you feel fuller, richer and more famous than anyone you can think of. Make what you do fun and meaningful, and the 'full' part will follow along eventually.

Some strategies I use to not let the lack of attention sometimes get to my motivation is that I restricted myself to checking my ao3 inbox and stats to once a day (same with tumblr except I check tumblr notifs twice a day with the exception of messages). And when I placed these restrictions, I realized how obsessed I was over this and pulled back and decided to just enjoy things.

Now, the best od joys I recieve when interacting with fanficiton is when I see some of the people I recognize in my comment section or the kudos list, or when I read over my outlines and squeal cuz oooooooh, I'm so excited to write them! Or when I smile at my old fics, not at the stats at the bottom, but at the summaries and the author's notes and the words as I reread them because I wrote them for me, because I'm interested in them and I'm happy with myself Alhamdulillah (meaning: praise be to God).

That what matters the most, dear friend!

How do you get people to interact more with your fanfic?

I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED

Mainly because I love ranting about psychological patterns and discussing analytical points on stuff like this.

So the following tips are general things which can be used for any kind of advertising, I will let you know when something is fanfiction specific. These are just personal tips from the stuff I learnt in psych class, stuff I learned while being in a professional environment, stuff I learnt through programs and stuff, and just stuff I've learned through experience. SO GET READY!

The first thing you should know before following any of this is: Don't let disappointment crush your life. Look, sometimes nothing works the way we want and it's bound by fate to crash. Don't let it stop you from living your life or trying new things or doing things which you love. If you lose interest in something, fine, it's okay. Really. There are quintillions of things in this world and you have only one of them in your hand. Get out there. Do stuff.

Now, let's see.

1. Networking

Always, always, always say this when someone wants something to be known. Because this is how it works:

Alexandra 👧 is very excited about her cookies. This is her first time baking them and she thinks it's the best thing ever! So she tells her friend Mariam 🧕about it and asks Mariam to try one. Mariam does and she enjoys the cookies very much because they're halal and so she is able to eat them and enjoy them!

One day, Mariam 🧕 is talking about baking to her work friend Bethany 👩 and she mentions Alexandra's cookies. Alexandra 👧 was regularly making cookies so Mariam 🧕 took some and gave one to Bethany 👩. Bethany ate it and enjoyed it very very much!

Mariam 🧕 also gave a cookie sample to her mother, father, sister and brother. They loved it very much and enjoyed them.

Bethany 👩 was later craving some cookies so she asked Mariam for more and Mariam directed her to Alexandra 👧. Alexandra and Bethany met and chatted and Alexandra gave her more cookies.

Time passed, and Alexandra one day got up from bed and started her routine of making morning cookie when she realized... she has three hundred people who were asking for her cookies and some were overseas too, asking for her cookies. She had started a whole business simply by talking to people. Wasn't that an awesome way the world worked? 🍪

~

Okay, so here's what happened: one person told another person about their product. Assuming that person is a very sociable person, they told their family, friends and whoever they came into contact with about the product when a related topic was brought into the conversation. The people who heard about the product from her are 80% from the same culture as her, so there is one type of community who knows about the product and may or may not purchase it. Either way, if they remember or if it's relevant, they will bring up the product to other people and those people will tell other people and the cycle will go on.

But then, one of those people has a connection to a person outside of that community, and that person may or may not purchase the product and like it. And if they like the product, they will remember it and they'll tell others about it and soon, a whole new community will know about the product and may or may not purchase it or spread information about it.

The cycle goes on and on because humans are literally like the strands of a spider's web. They're connected with the entire world one way or another, no matter how far their connection points are.

That's why networking is so important. And you'll see that the best kind of advertising is when it's someone you know recommending you to try something. This is a type of social conformity and it's beautiful to see how humans love sharing things. Use this aspect of humanity to show what you have to offer to the world.

I don't necessarily use marketing stuff for my fanfics except sometimes because a) I just like writing and posting things and b) going full on marketing is exhausting and I'd much rather save up that energy for money-making things or irl things. For me, fanfiction just happens. But I totally and absolutely respect people who do what they can to reach out and show off their work to everyone as they should! I like it when people do that because it means that they're proud of what they created and humans are sharing creatures, so when they share, it strengthens human connection and that's beautiful.

So, in terms of advertising and marketing, it's very very necessary to network.

How do you network?

I'm glad you asked! In terms of fanfiction, here's what you can do:

Follow: Follow and keep following people on tumblr, no matter how many digits your following stats show. My following stats are nearly in quadruple digits cuz I abesnt-mindedly click the follow button lmao. The good thing about this is that the more you follow people, the more the chance that they might see the notification and check out your blog and come into contact with your fanfiction.

Post: This seems obvious, but there's more to it. The more you post on ao3 or whichever platform you use, the more your username appears to people and the more people might see and register and remember your name and check out your account. In terms of fanfiction though, I'd suggest you post only things you want to, don't pressure yourself to write please. Fanfiction is one of the things that are meant to be enjoyable and if you don't enjoy it, then even if you get like a thousand kudos, you will still not feel happy because you're tired from all the forced content.

Content: In order for more views or people to see your stuff, not just fanfiction but anything in general, then your content must be memorable. Alexandra's cookies were memorable bc of their taste, which is why Mariam and Bethany were able to remember it and pass it on to other people and ask Alexandra for more of it. The content can be a) very good in quality b) have a lot in quantity (only works on some stuff) c) be very beautiful or pretty or noticeable d) content is posted on a regular schedule e) be relatable. The content has to be something that is memorable. The two best ways a content is memorable is if it's either very good in quality or relatable. In terms of fanfiction, the plot would be brilliant or the writing would be brilliant, or the plot would be something the readers wanted to see like a certain trope or an underrated trope which is in demand. Or the plot is something that has happened to the readers and provided them with a secondary experience (this, you cannot control).

Creator: The creator of the content must also be memorable. Because content can get lost sometimes. Bethany may forget where she got the cookies from had she not had that chat with Alexandra. Fanfiction titles can get lost and people might not remember. Authors are easier to remember than fanfiction titles a lot of the times because there's that human-human connection. So in the author's notes maybe you drop some lore about the story you've written, or mention something crazy that happened to you while writing the story, or you rant about a part of the fandom you are or maybe analyse a thing from canon. Whatever it is. In terms of fanfiction, it's especially good for your author's notes to relate to the story. But since it's fanfiction and it's literally something I do for fun, I use the author's notes to just... talk 😅. I really don't care if people read it or not, I'd like it if people read my notes and comment on something they want to comment on because I love holding conversations in the comments. Which brings me to another thing: Answering comments can be a way for you to be noticed. But not just any answers, if the commenter has left a unique comment or if it holds something like an analysis or something, then replying in equal to it means that the reader may see your reply and your name appears twice in their brains, creating a wrinkle in the brain which stores your name. BUT. Since it's fanfiction and it's something fun (wow, that's becoming my phrase) I hold conversations in the comments because I like talking to people. Fun fact! The way I talk in text, like with the "uh"s and "um"s and the elipsis and stutters is literally how I talk irl. Even the word "lol" and "lmao" I actually do say those words irl lmao. So my replies to comments take a while because sometimes I don't have the energy to hold conversations or interact with people and I just don't feel like a simple "thanks!" and heart emoji is enough. Another fun fact about me.

Other ways to reach: Tumblr has been a huge part in people discovering my fics because I like socializing with people on there :) I like sending asks to people, I like messaging them, I like talking to them over reblogs even if it means scrolling all the way down my screen, I like doing tag games, I like collaborating with people on different projects. I like doing all this because it's like... I'm better in terms of talking online than irl because there's not pressure of facial expressions and since I can get quiet irl sometimes, I utilise my ability to be able to actually socialize online. I love my moots and our conversations ^^ So it's not advertising in my book, but it is a strategy to use when you want to market something. I use it irl when I want to be noticed for a job or for a position or if I want to sell something, I make friends all around and make sure they're okay with me talking about the thing I want to sell or talking about me being good for a position so when the time comes, they can purchase something or I can use them as referees. In fact, this is a very, very very important tactic to use in the professional world. Make. Work. Friends. Make work friends, they're so so helpful and make sure that you're a work friend for someone too, because it all only works in reciprocity. Becase when you make a friend, a friend will behave like a friend. And friends (good friends), check out each others' works or interests at the very least. Even if they're not interested, they're willing to hear about it. But other than tumblr, there's another big thing you can do: READ AND COMMENT ON OTHER PEOPLE'S WORKS!!! PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEE. TRY TO COMMENT ON EVERY SINGLE FIC YOU READ. Fanfiction is a community. If you don't take part in it, you'll be left out. It's a rule, I'm sorry, but that's how humans work. Wherever you live, if you don't take part in the community you're in, you'll be left out. It's the real world, kids.

2. Quality of content

We already touched base on this and I've said quite a lot on it already, but. This is definitely something I do for my fics in terms of advertising (and also self-improvement). Because no one will want to read something which has the grammar of a kindergartner and has a plot as obscure as a sphinx's riddle.

Improving your product, constantly and regularly is very, very important. If you compare my first work to my most recent one (okay- maybe not my most recent one, cuz the current fic I'm posting rn is something I wrote after months of writer's block), you'll see that there has been a drastic improvement. So.

How do you improve the quality of your work?

I'm glad you asked that too!

Peers: Have people or friends you made online or irl who look over your writing and provide feedback. If you look into my yes beta and no beta tags and also see how many people I've co-written with, you'll see that I interact and involve a lot of people a lot of the time with my writing. It's a) because self-improvement is awesome and b) just having people involved in your interest is awesome!

Open mind: Always have an open mind when it comes to creating. If someone has a mindset of "I'm already good at this" or "I can do wayyy better than this writer", they will never, ever, ever, ever, ever improve and therefore they will never get the amount of attention they want. Trust me, I've met people like those, and they're arrogant assholes. Sure, you will feel like that sometimes, and yes, I feel like that sometimes too. But here's the thing: use it to your advantage. I've come across many fics which I thought "oh my God, the plot/writing is so shit", but I never voiced it out loud. If it was something that really irked me, I complained about it to my friends privately, but didn't (or tried not to) mention the name to protect the integrity and passion of the creator. What I did instead was something that was better for me: I let it improve my work instead. I intently read the work that annoyed me and when I found exactly what I didn't like about it, I took it in stride and then went back to my own work and made sure that my work didn't have that. It's very humbling to see something you hate and then you go back to your own work and see you have the exact same thing there. Multiple times. It's humbling and also an advantage because you've improved yourself. If you knew the amount of fics I wrote out of spite because I found something I didn't like and wanted to fix it... Yeah. The important thing here is that this process does not disrupt - or even touch - the original creator's process. They are not your responsibility. You are. In this note, be assured: no matter who you are or what your content is, it will always have someone who is yearning to find that exact content. Even if you think it's shit, it will have an audience. And you don't want to pop their bubble do you? So please, please please for the sake of all fanfic readers out there, do NOT enter "I'm so sorry, my writing is bad" or "oh my Goddddd, guys don't read this it's so bad loll" or "I don't really like what I've written here... but here you go anyway!" or anything like that. Do. NOT. It's simply the worst thing you can do to others and yourself.

Find tips: I have a hundred page google doc that is compiled of every single tip I could gather in the year 2022 from tiktok, youtube, pinterest and tumblr. Every. Single. One. I could. Find. And I constantly refer to it when writing. (I also have another google doc full of study tips, and another which is just general tips. Yeah... i had a lot of free time in 2022. I don't now lol, so it hasn't been updated in years)

3. Reaching out

By this, I mean tagging. I use every and any tags in my fics, but only correct or relevant tags. Ao3 is amazing in a way where people will actively search what they're looking for. So a brilliant way where people will find you is when you tag.

Tag correctly. When people tag popular ships or certain characters or other popular tags for "reach", it creates the opposite effect. It will make sure people will never read any of their works again if they can help it because that's just a shitty thing to do.

When you do tag correctly though, you will find the exact people who want to read fics like yours and you will make a name for yourselves.

Tag as much as you can unless it's inappropriate. Tagging everything you can think of is another way to get reach and it's something I absolutely do (and also bc, idk why, but tagging is one of the fun things about posting fics for me lol. Ig I like the organization). Whether it's character trait tags like "Tim Drake Whump" to plot tags like "Ice skating" to genre tags like "Crack and fluff" to warning like "waterboarding", it is a) a way where people who don't/can't read the stuff they want can stay away from it and no one receives hate comments and if they do, well, that reader is just fucking stupid and blind and it's not your fault and b) the people who do want to read those tags will find your fic. Yes, tag everything. Trust me, there will be people scrolling through tags like MCD and Dead Dove (example: me when I'm in a Mood) and when they find your fic, they will be delighted and leave excited comments.

~

So this isn't exactly very organized lmao, but I typed this up in one sitting. I hope it helps!

[kkglinka]

Ok, so I've been backreading Warrior Nun fandom meta, and random assortment of fics, and I definitely have some contrary opinions. Typical me. :)

The halo is advanced medical technology that doesn't belong on the mortal realm because it channels and is powered by faith energy. (it needn't be religious faith, as the show repeatedly emphasizes, Jillian, Mary and then Ava all demonstrating other forms). It is medical tech that is inappropriately being used in a combat capacity. Much like using a cardiac crash kit as a taser — you can, but that's not what it's for.

We know that the halo will reject individuals, likely based on their mental profiles, and how focused they are on life and living. Someone in despair, too ambitious, too willing to martyr themselves, who otherwise loses faith in living becomes incompatible The biggest clue is how Adriel first chooses as the meatbag locker for the halo, upon its initial theft. He lands in the middle of a battle and looks around for the most mortally wounded by still living person who seems important, and stuffs it in her. He knew the halo would accept an injured host who had reason to live, and counted on her grateful loyalty.

What's interesting is that the halo and crown's color coding indicate that they do not come from Reya's realm, which is color coded blue. The tarasks have divinium bones and kill wraiths, so they aren't demons unless Reya's realm is 'hell'. Then there's Lilith, also color-coded orange, whom Adriel makes no attempt to strike down, but immediately attempts to seduce and placate. Because she is a threat to him. (I suspect Adriel was supposed to retrieve the halo for Reya, but made a bid to keep that power for himself, then unseat her, hence the need for the arc). The warrior nun essentially carries non-combat tech from both realms, re-purposed into weapons, symbolizing how humans have choice, etc.

Second, I don't think Ava's ever died. It's definitely framed that way, and I totally get the romantic, symbolic appeal of that, but I never even considered it while viewing.

We are given explicit info about the orphanage such as the care facilities being very low tech. No heart monitor, eeg, ekg, seemingly not even a basic pulsometer like when you get checked in at a doctor's office. We also see that Ava was unfazed by the nun administering an injection, suggesting this was at least a bit normal. {Whoops, forgot Ava explicitly states no need for pain meds). So I'm guessing she's among small percentage of individuals who have a natural resistance to opiods. She was still in a conscious, hallucinogenic state when the nun was declaring her dead.

Severe overdose symptoms include cold, clammy blue skin, significant respiratory depression, extremely weak pulse and coma. The pulse may be undetectable to physical touch, and all metabolic action is depressed. It's a bit like severe hypothermia, and death in opiod resistant individuals is gradual, if left untreated. In short, the person looks and feels dead. Ava further displays the lingering symptoms of overdose through the first couple of episodes, such as disorganized thinking, emotional instability, lack of coordination, reduced inhibition and, yes, vomiting. That nun had 'mercy' killed so many other kids that she got complacent.

While Ava's midair fall likely caused multiple fractures and internal bleeding, along with loss of consciousness, it wasn't instant death. There was no rapid blood loss which would have caused heart failure, and aside from a portion of separated cranium, her head was intact. It takes several minutes of oxygen starvation for the body to begin dying, and neural function to cease.

Real life medical response would have been to drain fluid buildup while restarting and stabilizing the heart, if necessary, and sealing off the brain from infection, then monitoring for brain trauma from the deceleration squish. It was a scary fall, and Beatrice flipped out, but Mary kicked Ava off a cliff in season one, down onto an uneven rocky surface. What struck me is that Beatrice might have helped power the halo.

(As an aside, if the halo is powered by faith energy, then the decimation of the O.C.S. and their belief in the warrior nun, would have been a huge energy loss for the halo. The only rapid solution would be for Ava to go public).

Anyway, on occasions when the halo temporary runs dry, Ava does not die. Instead, she reverts to a quadriplegic state, indicating that the halo was unable to repair an existing healed injury. So it is acting in a continual state, but as a disability aid, rather than keeping her alive. For her, the halo provides a neural bypass system... which we also saw in the wheelchairs ArcTech developed. Competing disability representation needs and all, but I appreciate that Ava was not miraculously healed.

In short, Ava wouldn't die if it was removed, but her intense desire to live, disability, high altruism and lack of violent/martyr conditioning, made her the ideal candidate. For a device that's not from Reya's realm.

[ftpverse]

FtPverse Daily Signup Sheet

interested in having aproximately 2000 words of my KH fic FtPverse delivered to your email inbox every other day or so, so you can book club it along with me and a handful of other people??

- - > sign up here!! < - -

starting: February 1st, 2023!

~more info below~

what even is ftpverse??

FtPvese is my KH fic that’s primarily about Repliku getting a second chance at life and learning how to be loved, but also about a lot of other things; traumatized teens learning how to heal, kh’s clone narative turned to the max, replicas, and a totally unique clone of Sora coping with wanting to be his own person. you know, normal kingdom hearts stuff.

you can read the whole promo post I made about it here

.

logistics notes

- we’re doing a manual email list because it’s the best option for getting the actual prose in your email exactly like dracula daily did, rather than having to click on links

- this will probably take about 2 years to do, becuase 1million words is... a lot of words... I could only manage it in one year if I sent out an email Every Single Day, and I had enough people tell me that’s too frequent for them that I’m not gonna do it! we’re doing every other day instead, and maybe even take holidays off.

- 3000 words might be a more accurate average, but very rarely are there chapters over 5000 words, and most 3000 word emails are going to be because i combined two 1.5k chapters into one email (trying to get this done in 2 years, not 4!). chapters do get progressively longer over time.

- I’ll probably be sending out short little intro thoughts on each email (like, three sentences, max,) just for ~connection~ (and bc I like babbling) instead of me just. tossing you the prose uncommentated. author’s notes....

- because of this, I think I’ll probably be sending a copy of each email to ftpverse.dreamwidth.org as well for archival purposes.... so if you really really don’t want to give me your email, you can just subscribe to this journal. (I might not actually do this, but if I change my mind, i WILL tell you!)

- since ftpverse.dreamwidth.org is ALSO a community, it’s open to members joining and posting entries about current events as of [wherever we are in the ftpdaily posting] . like, AO3 comments are a perfectly valid place to have disccusions as well, but. fun bonus option.....

.

ftpverse general content warnings

> ftpverse is a story about abuse / trauma recovery. physical and emotional abuse are both shown in flashback, and repliku is regularly put in situations that trigger him. (sexual abuse does not happen anywhere, so it is free of that.)

> three of the main characters are suicidal; they work through it and come out better at the end, but dead inside is a rough one until that point.

> there is an attempted suicide on screen; the character lives, but the details are spoilers. it and another spoilery content warning will be linked below.

> several characters struggle with depression / a lack of self worth. they get better, but dead inside is a rough one, because there isn’t a light at the end of the tunnel for most of those characters until all that remains.

> nothing’s fair is a terminal illness analogue; this is the other one that i have spoiler elaboration for

> becuase i thought i was cishet when i started writing it, it’s a little heteronormative at the start. it’ll get better.

> i started writing ftpverse in 2010, when i was 13, and finished it 8 years later. do with that information what you will, but mostly i’m saying the technical writing quality WILL improve, you just have to give it time.

> spoiler content warnings are here

[bittersweetbark]

I seem to have an elevated need to communicate my head stuff today, so here comes the next manifesto:

my headcanon Emhyr

First of all, a very strong appeal is the "worst father ever" to "mutual loving relationship" development with Ciri. It's central to my needs because my father was shit and actively despised me from about elementary school age on. He's been dead for 23 years but even if he was still alive I don't think he'd ever have made an effort to change his attitude towards me. So this is like kids of divorced parents watching Parent Trap on loop, I drink up the fantasy of paternal love. Not the first time either, was very much into Fringe once.

I also massively project on Emhyr with the lack of social skills. Yeah he has major trauma but for me he's also never been ye olde neurotypical person. He masks and The Emperor is his main mask. He was told he was to be emperor so when his world shattered into pieces that's what he kept clinging to and when he made it work, he just emperored as hard as he could (which is brutally hard). I've worked into my current WIP that he expected people to follow orders without taking into consideration how they'd do it, to explain his reckless disregard of sending rabid bloodhounds after his child.

The Emperor persona comes with strict social protocols and scripts so that's a very good mask. (I.e. "if I say x, you'll have to say y, I know how to handle this, yay") It tickles me that Geralt just never correctly responds to those protocols, doesn't bow, doesn't defer, says exactly what he's thinking. So for me that results in Emhyr getting little "tilt" signs in his eyes and he reacts with anger and irrational decisions (trying to explain away TW3 stuff here). And in my HC also with fascination - because I can and no-one can stop me.

In "The Gentleman..." I made Geralt learn that Emhyr's bluntness most often is just him being himself, and I like it that they are very similar in that but sometimes lack the selfawareness to see that.

Geralt thought, a little giddy, that he wasn't sure if that was a deliberate display of dominance or just his usual blunt self, but either was good and there was a lot of overlap. He probably was so very good at the first because of the latter.

I've also written him as depressed... (because Geralt left without saying bye)

"Emhyr felt like the day had gone on for several years. One of those days. Maybe it would be good to shove it all at Cirilla and... leave. Die, probably."

...and demi-ace (in the "Boxed" stories, which could be better, well whatever) - again: because I could.

I think it's funny how he actually tends to fuck up CONSTANTLY, both in the books and TW3, but we still usually eat up the "brilliant strategist" BS in our fics, like we're falling for his propaganda even though we're not even in his fictional universe. He gets kinda vetinaried, and I don't think it's just the voice. But alright, I'm there for it and I'm participating.

I'm not fine with romanticising colonialism though, it's a major beef I have with the Astolat stories. Emhyr's done fucked up shit, the wars are absolutely part of it and he has not "liberated" the invaded countries to let them "participate in the imperial glory", ffs, colonialism people, I can't even with the fash undertones of "bringing civilisation". My approach is: Ciri's doing things better now but no apologies for Emhyr's warmongery. Little meow meow: yes. Has done nothing wrong: no.

Alright, I guess that answers all the questions nobody ever had.

[greenmegsnoham]

✨💕2022 Goals!!💕✨

Thank you @pennygalleon @corvuscrowned and @mystickitten42 for the tag! 😘

✨Reflection✨

Wow. What a year 2021 has been....insane.

I've appreciated being a part of this fandom more than you all could ever know.

I used to live where I could live my HP dreams in Orlando, FL, and although I don't regret moving back up north, I was in desperate need to re-connect with the stories I genuinely thank for the person I became. (but fuck jkr tho)

I started reading fic in September and writing in October of 2020, pushed out nearly 400k, birthed a podcast project with my best friend, and have worked tirelessly to build a community of love and acceptance in fandom that appeared severely lacking.

I've met so many amazing people and the love I feel here is just....ugh. I thank the Drarry community for being my gateway drug to far more content than I could even attempt to consume or create.

We all create and consume for our own reasons, and a huge part for me was to find my bliss in dark times, help myself through my depression and isolation. I've never felt so free and unapologetically me, and that wouldn't have been possible without all the beautiful members of fandom.

Thank you! 💕

✨Okay, yes. Goals.✨

💕No Fests, Except...

Being a part of various fests in this pat year has helped me grow as a writer, exposing myself to content and ships I never would have considered writing/reading and it's been an absolute joy. I'm so proud of everything I made. Especially [redacted] for HD Erised. I poured my entire soul into that work and it brought me just as much joy as exhaustion.

So! As much as I loved everything I made, I also need to acknowledge the stress that deadlines put on me and my personal wellness. Writing is something I am passionate about and my husband has always said "you're one of the few people I know that can make a hobby into a job."

He's right.

Fests = me putting my time and energy into something at the detriment of other wonderful experiences in life I've been missing because I "had to get it done".

IF I do any fests in 2022, it will be SELF-PROMPT and submitted if I have completed something appropriate within the timeframe.

Bottom line: Yes there are a million amazing fests happening all year long. It's so damn wonderful, but I have to know my limits and I need to get back and write for me at my own pace.

BUT! I have every intention of investing in the hp events/fest community regardless with events like @hpshipuary and @hpcestfest because, well. I want to! And, if I don't create anything for them, WHO CARES?! They are there for those who do!!

💕Which leads into...Fandom Advocacy...

Call me Helga Hufflepuff because I want everyone in fandom to feel seen, accepted, and loved and not judged base on what they consume or create.

I've been there for myself and I NEVER want anyone to feel like they don't 'fit' somewhere or that what they enjoy is wrong. You do not exist for someone else's approval. Find YOUR bliss and celebrate it. Don't give anyone the power to take what you love away from you, especially no-names on the internet. Like, bye.

If you want/need a space, @careofmagicalshippers has the space for you, growing into the space we all need and deserve: Join the Magical Shippers discord

💕Writing: for me, including original fiction

I had no idea I could love something as much as I love writing. I've always been a creative, with an Illustration BFA degree, but finding this however late in life has been one of the best things that has happened to me.

I have so many ideas for stories I haven't had the time to pursue (thank you fests 🤣) and WIPs that need love. I'm writing what I love on my terms and when I'm given that opportunity I know I'm at my best.

And as mentioned above, I often make hobbies into a job BUT I could see myself MAKING it a job. I want to keep writing and of course I will continue writing fanfiction. But the idea of becoming a published author for something entirely my own is so magical in itself. So, who knows!!!

💕Continue creating @careofmagicalshippers and @snapechatpodcast - with no end in sight.

What brings me more joy than writing and reading Harry Potter fanfiction and it's characters and ships? TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE IT!

Nathan and I have been having a blast with CoMS and we know you are too and that brings us so much joy. This world needs more love and laughs and we love to provide!

I also love that I can join friends like @snapecentric @danni-the-puff and @willwediejustalittle and others to share our Snapey love amongst ourselves and with others.

It's so much work but it is a labour of love that is worth it.

💕On a personal level...

I need to take better care of myself physically and mentally. There are several things over the years that I've let become lesser priority than they need to be. I need to take the time to recalibrate and find better balance in my life including relationships and health.

I need to be present with my husband and family.

I love the HP fandom and it isn't going anywhere. If I step away from my phone and discord or don't open Google Docs the world isn't going to burst into flames. In fact, by not doing so I create more fires than not. I acknowledge I've had a very selfish year - partly due to my manic depression and severe manic episode - and I need to remember my choices affect others.

Writing and interacting in fandom brings me so much joy, but it's okay for other things to bring me joy. I mean THEY SHOULD.

✨Here's to a Happier and Healthier 2022!✨

And remember...sticks and stones may break our bones, but words are just words. Don't give them more power than they deserve. 💕

Give power to the words that matter. Like how much I love you! 🥰

Pretty sure like everyone under the sun has been tagged already but oh well 🤣 @phenomenalasterisk @samunderthelights @avalonmoonshinesstuff @veelawings @oliverwilde105 @danni-the-puff @francis-sinbin @deaserkan @fuckboyregulus @screamingfae @rhiaflamesong @wheezykat @blue--dreaming @bronwenackeley @ronbinary @fw00shy @erlasart @quicksilvermaid @violetweasley19 @the-sinking-ship @mxmaneater @gnarf @swisstae