#but i don't have depression to blame for my archive

[lith-myathar]

.

[galadrieljones]

Happy SatFriday, or DADWC day :) I propose... Haunted Forest, folded letter, and exhausted

Thank you for the prompt!! This is another addition to my post-Trespasser/pre-Veilguard stories for Sene Lavellan. Solas is getting closer, every day. Finally, she encounters him in the Fade...

Solavellan ❤️ 1500 words ❤️ Mature

MASTERPOST

Incredulous

Sene tip-toed past the river bank, which was frozen into a crust. She wore winter furs. She had not hunted them herself. In fact, they had been gifts from Dorian. Tall, white arctic bears. He'd commissioned them himself and sent them as a gift via courier. To My Redheaded Friend, he'd written on a piece of heavy parchment. These furs were crafted by the finest trapper in all of Tevinter. I have a feeling they will go splendidly with your magnificent hair. May they keep you warm until next I see you. Which had better be soon. I'm very bored. Yours, Dorian.

It was cold, a dead season in the Frostbacks, and she was just outside of Haven, had hiked up the mountain over the past two days. Why had she come here? She didn't know. She just felt like it. She set up camp near the old gates, in the barracks where Thom Rainier had used to sleep. She lit a fire in the hearth, and it was enough to warm her. There were woods nearby, which had overgrown in the Inquisition's absence with coniferous trees, monsters that could blot out the sky. It was where she later planned to hunt her supper, but not now. For now, she was exhausted.

She had come back to Haven twice before, once with Abelas, right at the beginning of their love, when he was curious, and he wanted relics of her old life without him, and once with Ameridan, who had been simply bored, and who she hadn't seen now in more than four months. Their last dalliance had been at the Winter Palace. Along with the Commander and Josephine with Thom, hey had attended a ball there at the behest of Empress Celene who found their coupling curious. They boarded together in a great room at the corner of the castle on a high floor, and they enjoyed the view as well as the wine, one another's company, and they fucked merrily as they had many times over the years prior. On again, off again. When they said goodbye, something about it felt definitive this time. He was headed to the Anderfels. What's there? she had asked him. He had kissed her, charming and silver, and he said, I don't know, lethal'lan. Much hardship, I'm sure. And they smiled.

She could have asked to go with him. He would have taken her, but he hadn't asked, and it wasn't what she wanted to do anyway. So instead, she went home to her clan's farm in the Free Marches. She stayed there for two months, helping her father organize the archives and helping her her mother bottle the wine, and then she went back to Skyhold to visit with Sera and Dagna, and to take care of some business with the Inquisition. Now she was alone, here in Haven, thinking about the past. She still loved this place. She warmed her hands to the fire and drank some brandy from a leather flask. She thought quite a bit about Ameridan, and how she could have loved him. It was a nice fantasy, and she missed him a little, but Ameridan was very far gone in some ways. Even beyond the Anderfels. No matter how they carried on, he seemed to have no intention of falling in love with her or anyone else. His heart was still stitched to Telana's, across centuries. Sene didn't blame him. She understood him. In this way, she knew it would never work.

A little while later after the sun went down over the mountain, Sene went outside to go hunting in the woods. The snow was crunchy. She made a habit of stepping into animal tracks and depressions left by logs and other things. It dampened her footsteps. She made quick work of a wild turkey, which took her no more than twenty minutes to track and to shoot. She'd eat what she could and cure the rest. With the bird tied off at the feet, hanging over her shoulder, she began to head homeward. She could hear the call of the owl and as the moon rose, the howling of one solemn wolf, very nearby. She stopped, standing perfectly still on the trail. She set down the turkey and took her bow off her back and then she nocked a single arrow. There was a cold wind, and with it the sounds of haunted whispers, which raised the hairs on the back of her neck, and suddenly, she knew she wasn't alone. She spun around with her arrow aimed high, right at the throat.

It was Solas.

She dropped the bow immediately. He was just standing there, wearing simple garments. A dark jacket with a high collar, and he had his hands in his pockets. He watched her, pensive and very concerned. He looked so good. She nearly dropped to her knees. But she didn't. She looked around instead, at the pines and the snow, hearing the animal sounds.

"Are you real?" she said to him. "Or is this a dream?"

"It is a dream," said Solas.

"It feels so real."

"I am near," he said. "That is why."

"You're near?" she said. "Where are you?"

"Don't worry about it, Sene."

"Why not?"

"Soon, it will be time. But not yet."

"Thom gave me your letter," she said. She pulled the folded piece of parchment from the satchel at her hip. She showed it to him. "In the Hinterlands, one month ago. You sent it from Tevinter?"

"I am grateful to Thom," said Solas. "I felt you here, at Haven. I wanted to see you. I don't know what you've heard, about the ritual, and Tevinter."

"In the letter, you said you still love me. Is that true?"

Solas hardened his jaw. He still did not remove his hands from his pockets. "It is always true."

She took a step closer to him. "It feels different now. I can sense it, too. How close."

"If this could be over," he said, "and if I came back—"

"I am not who I used to be," she interrupted. The snow began to fall. Little snowflakes clinging to his jacket, his broad shoulders. She was close enough to touch him, but she didn't.

"I know that," he said. "I know everything, vhenan."

"Everything?" she said. This made her nervous. She didn't know why. It wasn't like her. They'd met in the Fade before, many times since he'd gone. At first, she wanted to kill him, but over time, that changed. As she changed. She should have known. "What do you know."

He took a deep breath and looked down at his boots. He just looked like a man there. He didn't look like a god. "I know about Abelas," he said. "And Ameridan. When I learned Ameridan was alive, I was shocked, naturally. I had heard of your valor in the Frostback Basin. You and Abelas. I had to see the man for myself, so I went in the Fade. I saw him at a tavern. And with him, I saw you. Laughing, with your great big hair. Imagine my surprise." He smiled, in earnest.

She didn't feel embarrassed, but she did feel guilty. She knew this was irrational. "Why didn't you say anything? I had seen you in Fade."

"It didn't matter. It's your life, not mine. I couldn't give you what you needed."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," she said. "It was never about you, with either of them. I just wanted to feel like a person."

"It's been ten years, vhenan," he said, as if hanging on for his dear life. "I have no claim over you anymore."

"I hated you for so long," said Sene.

"I remember."

"Abelas felt the brunt of that. Ameridan, in some ways, he is so much like me. He's helped me figure out the truth."

"What is the truth?"

"That I still love you," she said, holding out the letter to him. He took it, like he was compelled to. Their hands did not touch.

"You do?"

"I can't stop. It is my destiny. For this, Ameridan and I can never be together, at least not seriously. He loves a dead dreamer, same as me."

"I am not dead, vhenan."

"You might as well be," she said, shaking her head. She felt cold and filled with her regular and ongoing winter exhaustion without him. "You are not here. We meet only in dreams. You might as well be a ghost."

Now, he took his hands out of his pockets. He was wearing dark gloves, which he removed and dropped to the earth. Then he took one step closer, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I have not come back, because I live in fear that you will not see me. I left you. I left us both behind that day. When I saw you again, years later, and you learned the truth, it was so...fraught. We have never discussed it."

"That is the past," she said. "I know who you are."

"I used to have a reason, Sene, but now that reason is...just gone. There is still much to be done, but I no longer need to be alone. It has been so long. I thought perhaps you had moved on. I know it sounds cliche, but I just wanted you to be happy."

"I am," she said. "I'm fine. I am not like other people, Solas, but I am not alone. I have friends, and it's taken me many years, but I'm fine. I don't know what else to say."

"You are not in love with Ameridan?"

"No," said Sene. "Though I thought about it."

He smirked, perhaps stunned. "You thought about it?"

"What it might be like, yes. I even wanted it, at one point. I believe it's over now, but we were on and off for many years."

She felt a shaking in her heart. He was still touching her neck, right where it met her jaw. He seemed to be studying the exact same spot of her skin. She wanted badly to defy him, but what was the point?

"It feels like you're here," she said. They could see their breath. "Are you sure you're not here?"

He kissed her, calmly. It seemed to last forever, like the first time. The same place. But it was much less cold then, and now, they were older. When they parted, she became a puddle in the frozen earth.

"Solas—"

"When you awaken," said Solas, "it will not be long. Vhenan." He smiled wearily and snapped his fingers once.

She woke up in the barracks, which she had never left. She had curled into her furs beside the lit hearth and fallen asleep. Now, she looked down at her freckled right arm and her strange left arm, which still itched from time to time, and still glowed with the old restorative magics wrought by Dorian and Dagna. She touched the place on her neck that Solas had touched and she touched her fingers to her lips. She got to her feet. She went outside where it was freezing, not wearing her furs, wearing only her cotton under things, and she gazed up at the moon, which was full as an eye, and then into the mouth of the haunted woods. She was incredulous.

"What the fuck," she whispered.

@dadrunkwriting

[fandomanimatic-tournament]

Fandom song animatic tournament: Bracket 2 Side A

Stray Italian Greyhound - Vienna Teng

"I'm not that kind I'm so good at shooting down any notion This tired world could change It's all been bought Well at least that was my line No use in spending all that emotion when there's someone else to blame"

No Children (I hope we both die) - The Mountain Goats

"I am drowning There is no sign of land You are coming down with me Hand in unlovable hand And I hope you die I hope we both die"

Remember that we're voting on how Iconic they are for ANIMATICS, not for the song itself. In order to make things fair, the tone and mood of the song should not affect how iconic it is (for example, a serious song should not be considered more iconic than a joke song just because it's serious)

Propaganda and animatic links of the songs under the cut:

Stray Italian Greyhound - Vienna Teng

Propaganda:

arguably got a decent amount of people into the magnus archives fandom and its a banger

Animatics with the song:

The Owl House Huntlow Animatic

The Magnus Archives

Good Omens

Our Flag Means Death

Pokemon Legends Arceus AU

The Owl House Lumity Animatic

No Children (I hope we both die) - The Mountain Goats

Propaganda:

cmon. its no children. its AMAZING. the VIBES... the LYRICS.....

You're not a real fandom un til you have "hand in unloveable hand" as the title for every other ao3 fic

Not only is this song, like, objectively really really good, but it's been absolutely put through the ringer in terms of fan creations.

There's a video online somewhere of a whole group of people singing it alongside the person who made it (i think its just audio which makes it hit harder tbh) and it fucks me up so bad actually. like its a whole community of people rejoicing and in its own sense that's beautiful but the fact that its this song of all things is so depressing yet unifying at the same time it gives me so many emotions

AND IIIII HOPE WHEN YOU THINK OF ME YEARS DOWN THE LINE YOU CANT FIND ONE GOOD THING TO SAY AND I HOPE IF I FOUND THE STRENGTH TO WALK OUT YOUD STAY THE HELL OUTTA MY WAYYYYYYY I AM DROWNING!!!!!! THERE IS NO SIGN OF LAND!!!!!!!!! YOU ARE COMING DOWN WITH ME!!!!!!!! HAND IN UNLOVEABLE HAND!!!!!!!!!!! AND I HOPE YOU DIE! I HOPE WE BOTH DIE

It makes people make animatics about divorce/divorce-adjacent situations, which makes it swag and awesome!

Animatics with the song:

The Owl House Alador Animatic

Don't Hug Me I'm Scared

BNHA

Mob Psycho 100 Mob and Reigen Animatic

Bojack Horseman

DSMP Quackity and Schlatt Animatic

Please be cautious and read the title, description and warning cards on the animatic videos if you decide to watch them. If you've got specific triggers I'd recommend even more caution when watching animatics of fandoms you don't know, since sometimes canon-typical themes don't get warnings.

Please keep in mind that I don't know all the media and fandoms of the animatics provided as examples and I don't have the time (nor the will) to research them all. Don't come into my notes or my ask box complaining about them being included, I will simply block you. If a ship animatic included is about an adult and a minor, do tell me and I'll take it out of the post

ALSO keep in mind that I don't know all the artists submitted; in fact, even if I do know them I do not know absolutely nothing about them as people (I do not have twitter nor tiktok) and I could not POSSIBLY have the time to research ALL of the artists' controversies and what came of them so PLEASE don't flood my inbox with the artists' entire crime list.

[lyxthen]

Extremely mildly niche academic-ish rambling ahead. Might wanna skip this one. It is long and boring

One thing that does make me happy is the Latinoamerican Literary Boom was so big it actually went on to be translated in other languages. There are still authors that I feel need to have their works translated (mostly women, I wonder why) but many of the video essayist I watch keep mentioning Borges in their videos, and truly I can't blame them because his work is rad. I don't know about him as a person but he lives 30 layers of post ironic meta fantasy or some shit like that. Cortazar is really cool also. In terms of living authors I really like Juan Villoro, his writing style is very fun. The Wild Book is a children's book about literary theory, like, Theory of Reception, Death of the Author, stuff like that. It was a really fun read as a child but the themes are interesting as well.

I feel like, I don't know, it's so hard to find Latin American fantasy books these days, or at least they are not as available. The YA genre is dominated by books originally writen in English or on books written in Spain (think Laura Gallego, which I just found out has a Netflix series made out of her most famous series of novels, but I am derailing) with the exception of Benito Taibo, who is Mexican, and has one (1) high fantasy trilogy that is kinda mid. The ideas were great, but they could've been expanded, you know? Camino a Sognum had so much potential, and you can *see* that it was inspired by classic epic fantasy like Earthsea, but it needed some more *spark* to actually work. I have not read Normal Person, but I plan to. Maybe it is better made?

And it's funny, because a book like Mexican Gothic, that was written in English, is so darn good! But only if you read it *in English* because the Spanish translation did this thing where they try to "neutralize" the accent and manerismd of the characters to make it appeal to the wider Spanish-speaking world and it doesn't sound or feel Mexican at all.

I am not sure where I am going with this. I have been discovering the local literary scene lately (and I mean *local*, like city-wide local) and it is mostly so boring because no one is writing fantasy! No magic realism! It's all kind of depressing dwellings on how we are being gentrified and indigenous people keep being oppressed by the mestizo majority and corporations and the goverment keep stealing the land to make Coca Cola and we are dying of diabetes and we don't got water and Capitalism sucks. LIKE I AGREE BUT CAN YOU PUT FAIRIES IN THERE OR SOMETHING. And I guess that's why I've never wanted to read Cómo Agua para Chocolate, because it is just *too real*, cuz it's a story I know by memory and I don't wanna live it all over again verbatim. Probably a great book, but I just cannot.

I don't know man idk idk.

The funniest think about this is that my favorite book ever (like actually, for real) is a children's book, written from the perspective of the imaginary friend of a child, and it is so gracefully narrated, and the characters so well constructed, and it touches real problems like Teen Pregnancy and Childhood Depression and Anxiety while also managing to be funny and whimsical? The very premise of the book (memories of an almost true friend, it's called) is already so creative and the execution is masterful. BUT I AM THE ONLY GUY ON PLANET EARTH THAT SEEMS TO KNOW ABOUT ITS EXISTENCE ITS DRIVING ME INSANE.

Where was I going with this. Ah yes. Youtubers talking about Borges. Well. Um. I. I think imma translate some of my own texts to English and put them on Wattpad or something. They are not the kind of thing Wattpad people are into but I gotta archive them somewhere and doing it on AO3 feels wrong since they aren't fan works. And on that note, I also wanna write more fan works.

Ugh I could be writing an essay but you got me writing a Tumblr post. What is wrong with me. I'm too bad at word weaving.

Aaaa (??????

Thoughts?

Help

I did take my meds today BTW. I don't know what is happening to me I just wanna WRITE ok I LOVE WRITING BUT WHY MUST I DO TUMBLR INSTEAD OF MY PASSIONS?

Oi I'll end it there

[sagekjs21]

Ok. She's not an OC, but I'm answering these for my head canon version of Berryheart. Why? Because the Erins screwed her up, and now she's officially mine. :-D

@pinestripe37 @dragoneyes618 Tagging you both up front so I don't forget.

1. Definitely less than five minutes.

2. In sarcasm? Extremely. At other things? It really depends.

3. By thinking, or trying not to think depending on her mood.

4. Difficult

5. Moderate

6. Flexible

7. Sad things mostly. No, she doesn't like this feeling.

8. No one paid much attention to her. Probably Snowbird told her often to not wake her unless it was important.

9. In a Warriors way, sure. And I don't know lol.

10. A lie about Needletail, and it definitely does. (Not giving spoilers here)

11. She DEFINITELY pretends she understands! Admiting confusion would make her vulnerable.

12. Can that even happen to cats? She would probably get incredibly frustrated and blame StarClan.

13. Not applicable, but she loathes pink.

14. Cats actually...

15. Thought of on the spot.

16. Emotionally? Memories full of guilt. Physically? Kittypet food,

17. For sure! Her INSANE amount of pride! But she will never let a hint of it show.

18. Anything that could make her look less than.

19. Three

20. It would depend on who she was speaking with.

21. Currently? She wants to,protect her family. In the future? ...

22. She would get possessive, but turn completely aloof when called out on it.

23. She gets depressed, assuming that what she wants was just never meant for her.

24. Not at all applicable.

25. It depends on the cats involved, this would take WAY too long to properly answer.

26. Walking

27. Basically PTSD triggers

28. Only if it came from Sparrowtail.

29. No :-) <333

30. Darktail

31. Sparrowtail and... ??? (No spoilers, remember?)

32. No

33. No

34. Extremely

35. I don't think this has ever happened to her actually, but eventually, when something like this will happen in my fic, yes, she will be supportive.

36. Sparrowtail,will be her one and only mate. That's all I can say for now.

37. I have no idea

38. Traumatic memories and memories of her kits.

39. Extremely difficult

40. She sees almost all of them and desperately works to deny them, rationalize them, or cover them up.

41. She loves them.

42. She is fairly unmotivated right now.

43. She's a cat. I don't need to explain further.

A. That is a question that I will be answering in an article for BlogClan.

B. Simply? Vindication for the traumatized.

C. No

D. The same.

E. We'd mostly get along.

F. Love

G. Her need to save face. We are both proud, but my pride manifests very differently. I learned at a very young age that trying to save face really just makes you look like an even bigger fool almost every single time.

H. Tenacity

I. Mostly

J. Please read my fic for an answer to this question.

Uncommon Questions for OCs and their creators:

Send me a # (questions for OCs) or a letter (questions for creators) and I’ll answer

QUESTIONS FOR YOUR OCs

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

How easy is it for your character to laugh?

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

How easy is it to earn their trust?

How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child

Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

What animal do they fear most?

How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

What makes their stomach turn?

Are they easily embarrassed?

What embarrasses them?

What is their favorite number?

If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

Why do they get up in the morning? 

How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? 

How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)? 

 Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom? 

 What are their thoughts on marriage? 

 What is their preferred mode of transportation? 

 What causes them to feel dread? 

 Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? 

 Do they usually live up to their own ideals? 

 Who do they most regret meeting? 

 Who are they the most glad to have met? 

 Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke? 

 Could they be considered lazy? 

 How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? 

 How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive? 

Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap? 

Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)? 

What memory do they revisit the most often? 

How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people? 

How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

How do they feel about children? 

How badly do they want to reach their end goal? 

If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so? 

QUESTIONS FOR CREATORS

A) Why are you excited about this character? B) What inspired you to create them? C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story? D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look? E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you? F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)? G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most? H) What trait do you admire most? I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe? J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?

[reginaldpatterson]

Fourth day of Descendants Week 2024 @descendantsweek

The Little Prince and the Mad Scientist

The next week is too quiet. On the first day when Chad doesn't show up at school, Izkandar doesn't seem to care much. After all that happened, he's probably just resting. But after a few days, it becomes more concerning. Once again, it's none of his business. Who is he to interfere in Chad's life? According to the prince, he already did enough. Iz can't really blame him, but he doesn't care much either. Except he cares a little. A little enough for Spin to notice. "Iz, your turn to spiral." She echoes her friend's words toward the prince from last week. "I don't." "You do, and I'm pretty sure it's because you're worried about your little prince." "He hasn't shown up in days. Not like he has a way to contact us, or he would. No need to worry." "But you do anyway." She pauses. "And I gave him your phone number so he could have actually." "And so, what? Why would he, and why would I care?" Spin sighs. "You can be very annoying sometimes, Iz. There are just the two of us; you can tell me." "Tell you what?" He closes his book. "That I'm feeling bad and that I 'm worried about his well-being? Well, I'm not, so..." Spinelle chuckles. "I 've never seen you so compassionate and concerned about anyone, Izkandar..." "Maybe I care a little. But it's not like I can do anything about it. Anyway, he's probably still mad at me or too proud to call." "Yes, or maybe he thinks you hate him, like everyone else would. You're not an easy one to reach." "I have standards." "And those are blond, with curly hair and green eyes." "Hazel-brown, actually, " he corrects. "But you never look, hum?" "I never said I didn't. I'm observant." "Then, what are Ben's colours?" "Why would I know that?" "Seems that you're only observant when it matters..." she notes mockingly. "Fine. Let's suppose I care. Now what?"

Meanwhile, in his castle in Cinderellasburg, Chad spent most of his days crying in his bed, alone. He felt really depressed for too many reasons. He was scared to death that he might go to a military camp or, more likely, a conversion camp or something similar. After all, all his grandfather wants is for him to be straight, find a fair girl, preferably a princess, marry her, and have kids. The perfect family portrait. And Chad will never give them that. He will always be the shame of the family -the burden. He always thought he was a great descendant of the Charming family. It turns out he's not. So, what is he? Nothing.

On Friday, a younger girl with long blue hair and tan skin comes to see Izkandar and Spinelle. All the VKs are surprised, as they never expected a visit from any AK, let alone a younger one.

"I need your help." Iz looks up from his book and gazes at the girl with a very confused expression. "Why would we help you?" "Because I saw you at my brother's ball. " Izkandar and Spinelle exchange a look, and the scientist asks, "Chad has a sister?" "Chloe Charming. I'm worried about my brother. I think he's in trouble, and I saw you with him last week. I believe you're his friends." Izkandar shrugs. "I believed we were." He returns to his reading. "Were? What happened?" "I guess he might be a bit upset with me." He doesn't seem to mind much, but Spin knows better. It's not the first time her friend brings that up. Chloe frowns. "Why?" "Your grandfather misinterpreted my words." "He actually interpreted them well, and that's the whole point, " Spinelle argues. "Still, not what I said." Spinelle sighs. Chloe shakes her head. "Well, I'm sure Chad is in trouble, and I need help." "What does the little prince need from us, then?" Iz asks nonchalantly. "I haven't seen him since he went to see my grandfather. After what happened at the ball, I'm worried about what could have happened to him." "What can happen to him anyway?" Chloe takes the book from Iz's hands, and the scientist glares at her. "I know my brother, and from what I've heard, I'm pretty sure he's locked in his room. Grandfather told our parents Chad wanted to enrol in a military school and that he needs some space for himself." She explains, and the VK frowns. "The little prince to a military school? Sounds like a conversion camp if you want my opinion." "Is it true? Is my brother gay?" "How do you know about that?" Chloe smiles. "He is my brother; I live with him. You've seen him." Spin answers: " Oh, finally someone who notices! I was starting to believe all of you heroes are blind and stupid!" She gives a proud look at Chloe. "I like you." Chloe smiles back at her. "I really wanted to help my brother, but I don't know how. I doubt my parents will trust me. I have a feeling you'll help my brother. He needs your help." Izkandar sighs heavily. "Fine. But I don't see how I can help with your family problems." "Iz, I know you can come up with an idea because you're a genius." "Spin, I know what you are doing, and you know it doesn't work on me. And I guess I can't poison anyone, so I don't really see how I can be helpful..." "Please, I just want to make sure my brother will be safe." Iz exhales a long breath and pinches his nose. "Fine, I'll come up with an idea. But it's only because he’s grown on me a little bit..." Chloe jumps happily. "Thanks! I knew I could count on you! You know, my brother doesn't have as many friends as he would like us to believe..." Iz raises a knowing eyebrow at that statement. He hasn't seen the prince with many people except Ben, and if he really had that many friends, he probably wouldn't be staying with them. Maybe he thought he had before all VKs came into sight, but now, the prince might feel a bit lonely. He doesn't have such an easy-going personality, as he appears a little superficial and egocentric. However, Izkandar isn't bothered by this side of Chad's personality, being fairly self-centred himself and far from being as approachable as the prince. Does Iz feel lonely? Absolutely not. First, he has Spin and Caesar; plus, he really enjoys the calm of small groups with little talking, with plenty of time for science. In fact, with his projects, he doesn't even have time for socializing, let alone a relationship. However, Spin is convinced it would actually be good for him to be more social or even have someone. Someone who isn't her, because they tried that in the past, and it didn't work.

Now, Iz and Spin are stuck with a foolish mission to save a foolish prince. (Is he intriguing? Maybe. Is he stupid? For Iz, everyone is a little stupid, but he's not like his uncle if you ask. Don't mistake this; Iz loves his uncle; he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed). But the scientist is out of good ideas this time, so he's going to ask for advice from the only person he respects for her intellect: his mother. He knows she'll help him. VKs all have access to the isle they can use, and this seems like the best time for that. Spin and Iz are both going to meet Iz's mother: the great Yzma, in her lab.

They enter a lab, not taking the roller coaster entrance, but the secret back door. "Hi, Mother, " Iz says in a still monochord tone. "Izkandar! My son! I miss you, my little genius!" "I miss you too, Mother, but I came here for advice." They all sit at a table. "Everything you want!" Iz has always been his mother 's favourite. If Chad is his father's son, Iz is truly his mother's. "I made a 'friend' in Auradon." "Oh! Great! Tell me more!" Yzma comments. "He's a prince." He provides some context, and his mother's face contorts into a frown. "Oh... royalty." But Iz just keeps going, knowing exactly what she means. "And now he's in a bad position with his family. His grandfather locked him in his room and planned to send him to some sort of conversion camp. I believe they're not very open about his homosexuality." Yzma listens attentively, and the frown changes into a more reflective expression. "I see. I told you those people weren't good. They 're all very egocentric. And for what? Comfort, power, reputation? But what happens when someone raises them and they plan a knife in their back! FIRING THEM!" She starts getting angry. "Calm down, Mother. It' s not worth it. Anyway, I still need to help my friend, but his parents seem to trust his grandfather. They didn't have a chance to talk to him yet, and I'm running out of time." Yzma calms down and starts thinking again. "Sweetheart, I don't get why you want to help him so much." Iz shrugs. "Not sure yet, but he's not that bad, I guess. I enjoy his company." Izkandar has always been honest with his mother. "If you really want to help him, then you already know how to use poisons..." Iz sketches a smile and chuckles softly. "I don't think killing people will do any good, even if it's tempting. I still don't know how to do it." "I'm not sure about those heroes; parents can be really bad there, but if he has good parents, maybe they'll understand. Parents are supposed to love their child, especially when they are as exceptional as my little alchemist!" "Thanks, Mother."

Iz and Spin come back soon because time is playing against us, as Chad is supposed to leave the next morning according to his sister. It's now or never. "I hate you..." Iz states, and Spin chuckles. "Like it's my fault. You're the one caring about the prince. I just make sure you won't regret anything." She winks at her friend. The blonde sighs heavily, pinching his nose. "So, Mister Genius, what's the plan?" Izkandar looks away absently. "First, we should pick up the little prince; then, I have a feeling his sister can arrange something..." "You have a 'feeling. ' Wow, that's a new one." Iz gives her an unamused look. "Don't give me that stare, Iz. We both know you never act on feelings." Iz rolls his eyes. She's not wrong, but he's a bit out of time yet.

[tryhardgwen]

rs archive 05/13/2024:

Out of genuine curiosity, what are your thoughts on "morally questionable" fics (especially in the rpf community)? Please feel free to ignore this if answering that question makes you uncomfortable!

hi anon and thank you for your ask! sorry for the late answer, i was thinking on this one for a while. trigger warning for anyone, i mention sensitive topics here.

the thing about morals is that they're subjective. like, obviously, many people like to think they're objective, and they are to a point. like MORALLY, child abuse is BAD! that is very true! don't abuse children guys! but what i'm trying to say is the line blurs a bit when it comes to comparably less bad and harmful stuff--what you're talking about: the ~questionable~. some people think writing rpf is morally wrong. do i? looks at my works um no. personally, i think life is too short to ponder on the morality of writing stupid fanfiction about league of legends proplayers. but to answer your question on "morally questionable" topics in fics specifically--im assuming, r/nc, death, self-harm/suicidal ideation, gore, abject characterization (like portraying (specifically an irl person) as a rapist or something)? i think it's the same kinda thing. people do or not do it, if i don't like it i won't interact. im sure they have their reasons and im im not going to go yelling at people for doing something or not doing something. was nabokov wrong for writing lolita? will me answering that question change anything? as long as you are true to yourself, your morals, and your beliefs, then i think that's good. in the broader scope of things, whats important is living a happy and fulfilling life yk. igaf what people do. i personally don't feel comfortable reading or writing some things, so i just don't do it or interact with it.

however, i have written/am writing gore and some more heavy topics (im literally working on a hunger games au right now). i'm sure that falls under "morally questionable/wrong" for some people. im sure rpf falls under "morally questionable/wrong" for some people! like, don't blame me was rather "tame" but like, if you think about it seriously, i literally strip keria of his humanity and turn him into an obsession demon. is that wrong? who knows i just thought "haha runeterra demon" because i read WAY too much fiddlesticks lore and then wrote a fic. i touch on suicidal ideation, self-harm, and abuse in all my love. i probably/might/maybe/im not promising anything will write some form of smut in the future, only what im comfortable with though. like i said, it's largely an introspective experience and has to do with yourself and your morals. if you decide you don't like something, don't interact, but don't go spreading hate to the people that do like it. the only thing i regret in reference to my fics and morality is probably like, we just need some time together but only because i was in a bad headspace when i wrote it (depression goes brr) and i think i used a lot of my emotions there in a bit of an unfiltered way. maybe it isn't as bad as i remember it, though. i haven't read it in a while and i wrote it two-ish years ago. should probably reread it.

just cus this is MY retrospring (ha) ill leave a lil list for people about my works specifically (subject to change, but probably wont). basically what my fics revolve around, what i will/wont write. um, all my fics revolve mainly around love. (love that takes a darker turn in like, don't blame me) but it really is the main topic i write about--relationships and love (but doesn't everyone?). haha funny for an arospec girl, right--but love exists on many wavelengths, not just romantic, so yeah. love for writing and esports and the players in general is why i write. next, i won't ever write suffering for the sake of it. im not someone who goes into google docs like "im going to write whump and cause pain and suffering and make people cry!" if angst in a fic doesn't have a substantial purpose or reason then i'm not doing it. i've scrapped one fic that did that (im not proud that i started it in the first place, but tbf to defend 2023 gwen i was in a really bad place mentally). i also won't write r/nc or like ship minors w adults or anything bc that is not something i want to do! i probably wont ever write like pure pwp cus i don't wanna. i try to portray the more difficult subjects in my works like sh/suicidal ideation/abuse/depression well and non-offensively. i keep my shipping in private places: ao3, tumblr, a private twitter, because that's what i want to do. i've identified my own morals and i stick to them!

all in all, rpf in general is weird. it literally is projecting fantasies on real people (shipping or not, which why i kind of LOL at people that hate fics shipping or with smut of real people yet turn around and write fics killing real people. ...?) like i said: it's all the same isn't it? we're projecting fake fantasies on real people and turning them into characters. obviously some fantasies are um, "worse" than others but that's exactly what i mean--that's for you to decide. i always make sure to detach my fanfiction from reality--i don't actually think the ppl im shipping are in love, and i don't take portrayals of proplayers and their characters 1to1. if a character is a "jerk" in a fic im not going to turn and go hate on that proplayer irl.

what i have realized for myself and what i can say is... don't stress about it. like i said, life is too short to worry about whether or not reading/writing fanfiction about real people (that they will (probably) never see) is a bad thing. if you get a thesis statement from this long-ass answer, it's literally life is too short to worry about [insert text here]. chill! go forth and have fun!! i love yall!!! alright, gwen out.

comment: 1k answer kinda insane BUT i wanted to add (if anyone even read this) that i realize i did stray away from the og question and focused a lot on "rpf" later in my answer, but since it's what i write/do i just naturally have a lot of thoughts/advice (?) on that. so yeah. i sort of used this question as a broad point to talk about rpf and fics and the morality of it in general!

[autisticandroids]

Cas/Crowley

What made you ship it? i mean i was always crowstiel-positive. like, i'm a multishipper by trade, and unless something is just not there or i have a specific reason to dislike it, i will usually be, at the very least, ready to be convinced. but crowstiel was actually motivated by me getting really into crowley. because crowstiel is like. the least depressing crowley ship, especially as time goes on. like their relationship is flirty and antagonistic on both sides, and while like there is a level of unpleasant onesidedness between them (i.e. crowley seems to have more genuine affection for cas than cas for crowley), that's first of all, something that could easily change, because cas (in the later seasons, which is mostly what i'm talking about) is a person who is pretty affection starved and if he spend a lot of time with crowley he would warm up pretty quickly. also i've made a post about this before and i just spent like an hour combing my archive for it and couldn't find it? but the thing about cas is that he has experienced terrible consequences for his anger before. like, the horrific, irreconcilable guilt of godstiel arc is something cas can never resolve, it's maybe his single defining trauma. plus there's the fact that the winchesters (especially dean) become more and more the most important people in his life and don't take his emotions seriously + treat them like an inconvenience, and cas fears losing the winchesters to a pretty extreme degree because they are the only people in his life so he spends a lot of time trimming off his rough edges and denying his feelings of any kind. but ESPECIALLY anger. to the point where he is like. actually super repressed about it. like, cas completely represses and internalizes any anger he experiences because his anger has had such negative consequences + he is afraid of getting actively punished for it + he feels like he doesn't deserve to ask for better/wish for better/resent what he's been given/be unsatisfied with what he's been given + he feels like he deserves most mistreatment he gets. but the thing is some of that suppressed rage has to come out sometime. and with cas the way it comes out is against acceptable targets. people who he would consider enemies. this is why, for example, he goes so bananas on donatello: it's all that repressed anger about other things, exploding to the surface when he's "allowed" to feel anger at all. and i feel like THAT is a big reason why cas could simply get over his dislike of crowley. because a big part of the reason he hates crowley so much is that not only is crowley one of the only acceptable targets who is actually in cas' social circle, but also: cas kind of blames crowley for godstiel arc, in ways that would completely fall apart if anyone looked too closely, but do allow cas some cathartic rage. but the thing is if you took cas out of his situation with the winchesters and into a healthier one where someone (crowley :3?) was nice to him, he would like. get over that. like if he didn't feel he needed to repress all his anger and negative emotions, they wouldn't come out so explosively against acceptable targets. and cas would become way more open to like. actually liking crowley, you know? and i think he would. he's like a cat. he needs to be socialized to crowley but he'll come 'round. and then both cas and crowley will have someone to be nice to him. oh and also i started getting really into crowstiel as an explicit rejection of drowley, which i just hate. dean is so mean to crowley!!! what has he done to deserve this!!!

What are your favorite things about the ship? um. i like that they're nice to each other. i also like that crowley can appreciate that cas is insane girl pussy (in a way dean never will because he simply doesn't have the imagination). i like that crowley really thinks he holds all the cards but he's deluding himself. i like that crowley shot his shot by calling himself agent jay-z in season twelve (and that imo it worked). i like that both cas and crowley would get off pretty equally on feeling like crowley had power over cas, but that it wouldn't be true in actuality. i like that crowley would like to spoil cas and cas would love being spoiled. i like that it would probably be pretty healthy once they kind of settled down. i like that they could have insane freaky angeldemon sex no holds barred. i like that cas would be down to hold crowley during his scheduled crying times (4pm-5pm first tuesday of every month). i like that crowley would want to adopt jack soooooooo bad that man has baby FEVER like for real.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? could be endgame. tbh. let the winchesters rot.

[timegirl]

Cats Don't Have Nine Lives - Moceit Appreciation Week 2021

Characters: Patton, Janus

Relationship: Platonic or Romantic

Prompts: Aftermath (day 2), Animal (day 4)

Word Count: 2073

Trigger Warnings: This whole fic surrounds a death of a pet and the mourning of the owner. It is sad. Contains a light description of a declining medical condition of a pet. Please don't read if you're sensitive to these topics. Patton tries to blame himself. Food is mentioned briefly.

Summary: Patton suffers a loss and Janus comforts him.

@moceit-appreciation-week @moceit

This is not like my regular works. It is sad and depressing, and is based on my own life. More details on ao3. Please mind the warnings and the tags, stay safe.

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

“Hey, Jan? I was just at the vet... it’s.... over....”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry... Are you going home now?”

sniffle “Yeah...”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Okay...”

Janus used the spare key he had to Patton’s apartment. “Patton, darling?” He called and closed the door behind him. He heard soft sobs greeting him from the living room. “Oh, baby...” He hurried to the living room and found his friend curled up on the sofa, clutching a small baby blue blanket to his chest. His face was puffed and red, and tears were streaming down his cheeks non stop.

“Patton, honey...” Janus clicked his tongue and quickly sat beside Patton, opening his arms for the other to snuggle in his embrace. The moment he was sat Patton clung to his torso and sobbed hard and loud, burying his face in Janus' chest and wetting his shirt with tears. Janus frowned, his brows furrowing in concern, and started rubbing slow circles on Patton back.

“I’m so sorry...” He whispered. “Shhhhhh.....” Janus started rocking gently back and forth, trying to sooth Patton’s ache.

They sat like that for a few minutes, holding each other. Janus took the opportunity to look around at the apartment. It was a really saddening look. Everywhere you looked there were cat themed objects. Never mind the cat stickers decorating the walls and the little kitty sculptures on the shelves, everything in this house screamed that there’s a feline resident in there.

A brown cat bed with a monkey plushie sitting in its corner.

Three carton boxes in different sizes were lined up opened against the wall.

A carton board on the floor beneath a blue bench that was much too small for a human. The board was covered in claw marks and teared a bit in the edges.

Toys were scattered everywhere on the floor. Mice, spikey balls, balls with little bells inside. There was one cat wand on the floor near the cat bed, a stick with a brown furry string and several colorful feathers tied to the end.

A blue cat tree was standing next to the sofa, a plaid blanket cushioned the lowest platform.

The armchair was covered in absurd amounts of cat fur, as if to say this was her spot, no one else's.

Janus lifted his gaze upwards. The walls weren't spared either. On two different walls there were blue cushioned shelves designed as stairs, going from the floor to a level above Janus' head as he stood in his full height, and Patton was shorter than him. On one step of the stairs sat a small tiger plushie.

As Patton's sobs slowly quieted down, the silence between the two was disturbed only by a small water fountain in the corner of the room, trickling steadily.

Patton didn’t want to let go of Janus. He felt like someone pulled the rug from under his feet, and Janus' firm hands were his only lifeline. He smelled nice, too, as much as Patton was able to smell with a stuffy nose from all the crying. Like the comfort and nostalgia of opening an old book with yellowing pages, with just a hint of cologne. He was warm, and it felt comforting to be held by him, like a comfort blanket. Patton was no longer crying, just inhaling Janus' scent softly to ground himself. Janus' fingers caressed the back of his head and Patton leaned into the touch.

Eventually Janus broke the silence.

"She's had a good life." He whispered into Patton's hair, and Patton felt the vibrations rumble in his chest.

Patton sighed heavily. "Yeah..." he mumbled. Sniffling once, he pulled himself away and wiped the remaining tears off his cheeks, the ones that weren't coating Janus' shirt. He looked down at the blanket he was holding.

"That's hers, right?" Janus asked.

"Yeah," said Patton, "I used it to get her into the cage, you know how she gets," he chuckled humorlessly. Janus gave him a sad smile. "She was also... wrapped in it when... when the vet... you know..."

"Yeah..." Janus rubbed his hand on Patton's arm comfortingly.

"You know, she's had a kidney failure two years ago, and the vet said that we're only prolonging the inevitable. Eventually it'll happen again and it'll be the end," Patton busied his hand with the hem of the blanket, "but I thought it'll be at least... five years, you know? Not two. Not that it wouldn't have been hard either way, but, still... It's just... so abrupt," he frowned, the tears threatening to overflow again.

"Well," Janus hesitated, "at least now you won't need the antihistamines anymore, right?" he tried for humor, and Patton's lips broke into a genuine smile and he laughed weakly through his nose.

"Right..." His smile slowly turned into a solemn expression and he sighed. "What if..." he bit his lower lip, "what if I could've stopped it?"

"Patton, no. It is not your fault."

"No, I know... The vet said it would've happened anyway... But what if I wasn't perceptive enough? Maybe if I'd noticed something's wrong sooner they could've saved her..." Tears began to accumulate in Patton's eyes.

"Sweetie, listen to me." Janus took both of Patton's hands in his and looked straight into his eyes. "It is not your fault. You were an amazing owner. You loved her so much and gave her everything she could've ever dreamed of."

"But I-"

"Shh shh shh, no buts," Janus used his thumb to gently wipe a stray tear off Patton's cheek, beneath his glasses. "I've known you since before you adopted her. I've seen how you took care of her with everything you have. Spending nights treating her when she was sick, doing everything in your power every day to make her take the medicine you knew she hated but made her feel better, staying awake late to pet her just because she didn't want to go to sleep and you couldn't bare to say no to her. Darling, trust me when I say, she was the luckiest cat in the world to have you as her owner."

Patton started sobbing again, furiously wiping his tears with his fingers, dirtying his wet glasses even more. Janus clicked his tongue. "Come here," he said as he pulled Patton to his embrace once again, placing a kiss on the crown of his head. "It's ok to grieve," he whispered, rocking them back and forth, "but don't beat yourself up about things out of your control." Patton sniffed, nodding weakly. Janus waited a bit before saying, "Let's bring you some water, ok honey?" Patton nodded again and pulled back. "I'll be right back." Janus said and petted Patton's cheek gently. He stood up and walked to the kitchen to get Patton a glass of water.

In the kitchen, Janus noticed a bowl of dry cat food in the corner. He debated getting rid of it and sparing Patton the pain, but decided against it. He'll ask Patton if he needs help with it, but he might want to do it himself to get some closure.

Janus returned to the living room with a glass of water in his hand. Patton looked up at him as he approached and small smile spread on his face. Janus' chest filled with warmth. He'll do anything for this man, he just wants him to be happy.

"Thank you," Patton said and reached his hand to grab the glass.

"You're welcome, honey," Janus replied as he took his place on the sofa.

They were silent for a moment as Patton drank. "You know," he said, lowering the glass to his lap and holding it with both hands. "I keep thinking about how naïve I was when I adopted her."

"Naïve? How so?"

"I thought it was funny, giving a cat a number as a name. You know, Nine, as in nine lives?" Janus looked at Patton, concern apparent on his forehead. Patton was looking down to his glass in his lap. "Of course there were other reasons too. It was September 2009 when I got her. The ninth month of the ninth year of the milenium. It was so fitting! Of course I couldn't give up the opportunity to give her a name that's a play on words!" Janus frowned and rubbed Patton's knee. "But cats don't really have nine lives, do they? Not even a cat named Nine..." He sighed.

Janus looked at him in silence. It was good that Patton was talking. Janus has spent years trying to make Patton to open up to him. He was always hiding behind jokes and a huge smile. He needed a safe platform to be able to unload everything weighing down on his chest. Janus was always happy to provide him that safe space, and the fact that Patton trusted him enough by now to open up to him was a bit overwhelming, in a good way. But it wasn't about Janus right now, it's about Patton and his pain. Janus knew Patton so well by now, that he didn't need to check to know that if he stayed silent, Patton would open up even more and unload more of his negative feelings, and Janus would be there for him when he does.

Surely enough, after a few moments of silence, Patton let out a breathy laugh, devoid of humor. "I keep thinking she's gonna come out from around the corner like everything's normal... You'd think dying is a one time thing. She died, that's it. It happened. Now we're after it. But it's not..." Patton emptied his glass and placed it on the table. "It's still happening. She didn't just die... She's dead. And she keeps being dead, all the time, over and over again. Every time I look to the hallway and expect her to walk out with her tail wiggling high, she's dead again. Every time I think of her... She's dead. Again. She's really... not coming back... She's staying dead." Patton played with the sleeve of the hoodie that was always tied around his shoulders. "Look at me," he chuckled, "I'm even wearing a cat hoodie. I'm pathetic..." He sighed.

"Patton honey," Janus wrapped his arms over Patton's shoulders and pulled him to rest against his chest, maneuvering himself to a more comfortable position, leaning back on the sofa. "You're not pathetic. Ok?" He stroked Patton's hair with his hand. "Those things take time. I'm not going to lie to you and tell you it'll all be gone one day and you won't feel anything. That's never going to happen." Patton pouted in response. "But it won't be as painful. It won't be an open wound anymore. It will scar." Patton's eyes widened and he looked up to Janus, letting his eyes rest on the scar tissue on the man's left cheek. "A scar is... a reminder of what once was. It's unpleasant to look at, and it's scruffy to touch, and remembering what left the scar is... painful, to say the least." Patton's brows furrowed in a frown. Janus smiled warmly at him. "But it doesn't hurt by itself anymore. You can live your life and not even remember it's there most of the time. At first it hurts and itches and every move you make has to be calculated because the wound is bleeding and everything hurts. But with a scar you don't have to do that anymore. You're going to be ok." Patton sighed and rested his cheek on Janus' chest. "And you know, I thought about what you said." Patton raised his eyebrows and hummed in question. "You weren't naïve. You were being funny, and witty, and wonderful, like you always are." Patton's cheeks warmed in a blush. "I know it might take a while, but I can already see you in a few months with your two new kitties, Seven and Five." Patton giggled and Janus smiled, kissing his hair.

It wasn't perfect. In fact, it was extremely painful, and the grieving process has just begun. But maybe Janus was right. It had a nice ring to it, Seven and Five. Nine's little siblings. Of course, she'll never know them, but it's nice imagining how his first cat's name becomes a legacy in all of his future cats. Patton sighed. It's not going to be easy. But with Janus by his side, maybe, just maybe, he can do it. He will be ok.

[princebugs]

stolen dance. (reed900)

small note before this begins--- this oneshot is based off of some art made by @jude-shotto !!! pls go follow them theyre amazing

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

"Fucking--- shit," Squinted eyes gaze into his dust-ridden reflection before him, his phalanges evidently not nimble enough for this simple task he had to complete; tying a tie. Perhaps he was skilled in this in another life of his, but ever since he was a young kid, he was never able to finish any sort of tie. Whether it be a regular ass tie, or a bowtie--- tying that shit? Not Gavin's thing; he would just force his father to tie it, when his dad was still in the house, that is.

Cue another long-winded groan, and he gives up. The tie had gotten all sorts of messed up during the actual wedding, due to him having to lift it up to wipe away the tears dripping down his cheeks. Weddings were emotional, alright? Tina could barely get through her vows to North, and Gavin felt too many emotions at once--- anger at her for leaving Gavin so easily (not in the romantic way, he didn't like her like that), sadness for seeing her go away into her new life, and happiness for seeing his best friend finally finding someone that cared about her so dearly.

Nonetheless, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Jealousy.

When the fuck was it gonna be Gavin's turn, huh?!

He threw the abandoned, wrinkled tie behind him, not really caring to see where it landed, and he points to himself in the mirror. "You, Gavin Reed, are a fuckin' delight to be around. You will find someone eventually. And, your ass looks GREAT in these pants, so don't go in there and look all depressed. You're gonna walk into that stupid dance-floor, immediately sit the fuck down at the bar, drink champagne, and hope for the best--- because Gavin Reed isn't a desperate man!"

A proud grin stretches across his visage, confidence washing over all of his insecurities as he turns around to leave the bathroom--- of course, taking a quick look at his ass along the way.

You're damn right it looks good.

He straightens out his suit jacket on the way out, before noticing that someone was in the bathroom stall directly behind where he did his little pep talk. Freezing in his tracks, the air is silent in the room for several moments.

"...I'll give you twenty bucks after this if you don't tell everyone about me talking about my ass."

"Deal."

Done and done with that, he walks out of the bathroom.

A brief exhalation, and still meandering with a new surge of confidence, his hues breeze over the area, searching for a very specific lady of the hour--- he wasn't letting her go on that honeymoon without stealing a dance from her, duh. That's just how they rolled, ever since highschool prom.

His train of thought is broken by someone speaking to him, and he inclines his cranium to the side to catch a glance of who wished to partake in a conversation with him--- oh. Connor, and Hank.

Connor was wearing suspenders along with his bowtie (stupid phckin' neat android who could tie a tie--), and his jacket was placed on a chair just a few feet away from them. His hair was done as it usually was; slicked back except for a few baby hairs. His smile was as bright as ever. "Gavin! We were wondering when you would come out of there. I queried to Hank that you might have had a bad lunch, and were possibly disposing of i--"

"Connor, stop that shit," Hank interrupts before Gavin gets the chance to, and Gavin almost laughs at his appearance. Listen, it's not everyday that you see Hank Motherfuckin' Anderson dressed up nicely, and Gavin actually has to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter. He didn't catch sight of him beforehand, so he was just seeing this--- this monkey suit of his.

He couldn't deny that it did look good on the Lieutenant, but nonetheless, it was fuckin' hilarious. "So, Hank, did you borrow that suit from your grandpa, because it looks just a lil' dusty riiiight--"

"Don't even touch me, Reed. Don't even think about it," Hank's coarse voice states, causing Gavin to retract his palm from almost wiping off the other male's shoulder. Gavin snickers anyways.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll bug you about that shit later, after the wedding," He actually has a tone of genuine joy, his childish smirk turning into a bright grin.

Connor beams at that. "Wow, Detective! You actually... don't look pissed off for once. I'm quite impressed."

His cerulean irises roll in slight irritation, but he keeps smiling. "Listen, today's a good day for me, alright? My best friend got married, for fuck's sake--- speaking of Tina, where is the secondary bride? I need to get my dance from her real quick before I dash outta this place. It smells like my nana in here."

"Don't tell North that," Markus joins in on the conversation, looking as pristine as ever with his tuxedo (suit jacket abandoned), and his sapphire-and-emerald optics practically sparkling in the light. Gavin almost blushes. Almost.

There may have been a possibility that Gavin used to have a minor, MINOR, crush on Markus. Who could blame him? Look at the guy--- he was too pretty. If Gavin was the president during the revolution, he would've let the androids live free just because he would have gotten entranced in everything that is... Markus.

He gave up on that MINOR crush soon enough, and now they were just mutual friends.

"Oh, shit--- she isn't around here, is she? North'll kill me if she heard that," Gavin glances around himself, emitting a sigh of relief. North was the one who planned the majority of the wedding occasion, and if she heard any complaint about it, she wouldn't hesitate to snap a certain-coffee-infused-relatively-short-detective's neck. Phew. "Coast is clear, y'all."

"Tina and North are actually sitting down right over there," Markus turned around to point over towards the newly-wedded couple before continuing, "be careful what you say, of course. North could still commit a murder tonight." Markus chuckles, but Gavin gulps.

"Alright, see ya, losers," The human begins his sauntering over towards Tina, ignoring any possible looks that were given his way (he was hoping it was merely because he put just a little extra sway in his step to catch people's attention), and then tapping Tina's shoulder once he made it there.

"North? Mind if I snatch away your wife for a dance?" Gavin bit down on the inside of his right cheek, extremely nervous about merely asking her that. He had met North beforehand, of course--- he was just very afraid of her. She didn't generally like humans, besides her partner, and he didn't generally like androids; it was a match made in HELL.

Surprisingly, North smiled softly, gesturing for Tina to go ahead and stand up. "Go ahead, I'm sure she needs as much time with her best friend as she can get."

"Sweet. C'mon, Tina," Finally taking off his jacket and placing it around an empty chair near his current area, as well as pushing up his sleeves, he then holds a palm out for her to take, and Tina laughs.

"Dude, are you taking me for a waltz, or something? Don't be so fancy," Tina, that beautiful bitch, giggled before giving her wife a kiss on the cheek, then taking Gavin's hand. "This doesn't make me any less gay, you know that, right?"

Gavin stuck his tongue out in disgust, a little 'bleugh' sound emitting from him, "Gross, man. Plus, you're totally not my type," he says as he leads her to the dancefloor. People are already dancing there, but once they see the grey-black vest of Gavin, and the sleek black dress of Tina, they move out of the way. Perks of being the best man and one of the brides, eh?

"Yeah," Tina began, peeking behind Gavin's shoulder as they swayed around to the rhythm, their hips shaking at a leisurely pace, "in fact, didn't your type just walk right through that door?"

His eyebrows furrow momentarily, his head turning to look behind him, and---

Yowza.

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

keep reading on ao3!!!

[memoirsofafuneralhousemouse]

Spoilers: The Magnus Archives Episode 170 Live Blogging and Reaction:

I want to start by saying that just by the summary of the episode I'm already

Okay let's go. Reactions to the actual episode starts now:

Oh shit oh fuck oh god oh no no no no

Mr Newall sir you have The Range

Martin rambling is me off my meds I hate it here

I really can't put into words how uncomfortable I'm feeling so please have this meme that represents me during this trying time

Martin: "He doesn't like me though. I don't blame him."

Everyone in the fandom, all the Avatars and God herself:

I. Will. Commit. Murder.

It's literally only been SEVEN MINUTES. Why.

I suppose is a good thing I got back on my meds some time before this episode happened because I am experiencing Feelings.

Martin lied on his CV. Martin committed a felony! Jail for Martin! Jail for Martin for a thousand years!

Oh no no no no no the calling for Jon has started oh no no no no no we don't do sad here no no no stop STOP BEGGING YOU CRYBABY ENOUGH stop I am in pain oh my fucking god I am so angry

Oh the ACTING. Exquisite.

Martin you need your MEDS and also a glass of water. I will FIND you and I will HUG you and CHERISH you. This is a threat.

Friendly reminder that mother and birth giver are two different things and a birth giver is not a mother by default ok that's all.

The first person he can think of is "Sasha" and I immediately went

Ah. Not! Sasha. We been knew 😩🤙

"Just his eyes" perFECT FUCKING EYES MY HEART MEALTS WHEN I LOOK AT HIM LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING IS THIS A JOKE ARE YOU PHOTOSHOPPED

Pop culture reference: check.

His name was... Jimmy Magma.

I really like how Groundhog Day-ish this is. Depression really is an endless cycle of "same but different" and it's... oddly greatly depicted here like I'm uncomfortable? But also it's such a known sensation and it's like Ah Yes Martin you are experiencing the Sad, I can relate to that.

GIVE US THE POETRY

GIVE US THE POETRY

Coastal city people who are always sticky because of the mist and fog and can't do anything without feeling icky make some noise 😩🤙 We all part of the Lonely now.

Martin: Ugh this UGLY chair is so Uncomfortable I hate it I'm going to burn It

Me, who falls asleep on bathtubs, the floor, standing against a wall, on the counter, in the middle of a lecture: *Surprised Pikachu*

Baby why are you such a Mood. I hate it here. What the hell.

Maaaahtin. Maaaaahtin. Mahtin.

Martin says Martin for 5 minutes straight (ASMR)

Seriously his voice is so nice.

Is he like in the Lukas mansion or something. I'm very dumb I never get things right. Help please.

Aaaaapparently not? I'm very confused.

Jon baby there's only six minutes and thirty seconds left of this episode so you better HAUL ASS AND COME GET YOUR BOYFRIEND OR SO HELP ME GOD HELEN

Me during this entire confession of Loneliness and Sadness seeing my own Depressed ass in it:

Y M C A IS FUN TO STAY IN THE Y M C A WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU JON

Meanwhile Jon bursting doors open Looking for Martin:

I am Martin KILL BILL Blackwood and you better GET ME OUT OF HERE RIGHT THIS SECOND OR ELSE YOU WILL FIND ME THE MANAGER

"I am in love"

Fucking

FINALLY

Jonathan

:)

They're hugging and you can't tell me that I'm wrong.

Am I wrong? Are you going to tell me that I'm wrong?

Pop culture reference: check (x2)

Jonny Sims really said the way to defeat evil is Love

Very good episode 10/10 I need a shot of vodka and a Sertraline

[paralumanleadmehome]

Bough Breaks by Fawn_Velveteen (a fanfic review)

Just so you guys know how much this fic means to me, I was at a book fair two hours away from home, and I was reading this. I was at a book fair surrounded by so many books written by internationally acclaimed authors and yet I can't let this fic go. This is how much I love this.

A little disclaimer though, I am honestly a sucker for Dadzawa content - especially when Dadzawa shows love to the little green bean. BUT I am also admittedly drawn to stories that depict abuse, mental health, and of the likes. Which makes this story my cup of tea.

To give you a little bit of insight, here's the summary for Bough Breaks (as posted in Ao3):

In life, nothing is certain. Pro-heroes aren’t always the good guys. Children are not spared from the darkest realms of humanity. Izuku isn't acting like his normal self at school lately, and his homeroom teacher has taken notice. After learning about the mother’s new, unwelcomed boyfriend, Aizawa’s concern shifts into dread. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep his student away from harm.

A little in-depth but quick summary here would be:

Midoriya is a rape victim and the perpetrator is none other than Inko's boyfriend who's also a famous pro-Hero. Midoriya was antagonized by someone who was supposed to protect the greater good, who was supposed to protect people who were weaker than him, and the first one to notice and trust his instinct to act is Aizawa.

Now what I absolutely love about this fic is how it's written. I honestly believe that the author is a brave, amazing, and a wonderful human being for having written this story. I always believe that people who can write about abuse, depression, and anxiety and still strive to create and see a better world despite it are amazing.

Fawn-Velveteen has created a perfect balance between having someone suffering from trauma and having someone else be there for them.

I love love love the fact that Aizawa's instinct to protect developed into something more personal for him and for Midoriya. I love the fact that everything he did was for Izuku - how he changed things in his life, in his home, in his work, in his everything. BUT I ALSO ALSO ALSO love the fact that Fawn_Velveteen created that perfect sense of balance between who Aizawa is with and without Izuku, the different parts of him that aren't fully separated but also not fully integrated, something that stories like these rarely dive into and something I wish someone told me before I became the tired soul that I am now.

Let me elaborate.

Everything Aizawa did, he did it all for Izuku. Turn his office into a bedroom? No problem. Miss his work (both teaching and hero work) just so he could watch over the boy? Easy peazy. Completely change the routine of his life and be all touchy and huggy and loving and warm? Heck yeah if that's what Izuku needs.

But everything above is what Izuku needs. What about Aizawa's needs?

Admit it or not, there is only so much you can do and give and be with people who have undergone trauma, are going through mental health issues, and deep heavy dramas until it affects you. And gosh damnit, it affected Aizawa.

He doesn't see Izuku as a burden and I believe you have to kill him first if you want to convince him of that, considering he hasn't murdered you first. But damnit he also needs a breather. And I love that he isn't called selfish for needing it. Emphasis on need, not want. And I love the fact that he doesn't have to carry the burden of Izuku's world alone; he has Present Mic and Midnight and Vlad (and Endeavor, who knew) and they actually let him call for these Mental Health Breaks if they aren't the ones asking him to take it. And it's healthy. And Aizawa wasn't selfish for wanting it. In fact, I admire Aizawa because he found a way to deal with his breaks (his own life apart from Izuku) by settling into compromises with Izuku. He doesn't just up and disappear. He communicates. He asks if Izuku can hold for another hour, he asks if he can have lunch with so-and-so, he asks if this person can watch over him while he does this. He asks. And if Izuku can't, they deal with it some other way. And it's healthy. And I love it. Bad habits die hard so kill them before they come.

I also enjoy the fact that even though Izuku was already the holder of One-for-All, no one victim blames him. They see him as he is - a child, a young boy, someone who had everything ripped away from him. It hurts my heart, yes, but I'm glad that no one blames him. On a side note, I am furious with his perpetrator's supporters. Like hell you think Bakken is innocent. Fuck you. But that's for a different post. Also, Monoma's a dick for his insensitive comment. But again, another post.

I wish that Izuku could be kinder to himself but that's how trauma works, I think. It takes away the good. It takes away the capacity to think of the good. And old habits die hard, especially habits that were forced on you, but as I said, I am hopeful. And I am proud of Izuku's progress in the story. It hurts when he regresses, but it's also a clear reminder that healing isn't linear. And just becauae Izuku regresses doesn't mean he doesn't deserve love. I mean Thor was a depressed alcoholic but Mjolnir still deemed him worthy. Just saying.

I love that no one blames Izuku when he has panic attacks. I love that no one calls him weak for it. I love that it gets reiterated again and again and again that it's not his fault, that none of the things that happened to him is his fault. It's something he needs to know and I love that everyone is patient to remind him of that.

So if you find yourself in Aizawa's shoes, you aren't selfish for needing a break. And if you find yourself in Izuku's, you aren't hopeless just because you regressed. Healing isn't linear. And you need you to be kind to you.

And I don't know. I'm just really really excited for this fic. I have an idea as to how it will end but I still look forward to it nonetheless. I lool forward to the day the "victim" turns into a "survivor" - that Izuku is no longer trapped but is a conqueror.

Tbh, I think All Might could've done better here but I'll leave my opinion of him out of this for now. And I'm not saying that the fic is perfect; I still think it has flaws in itself, but frankly speaking, I almost don't care.

It's a good fic.

And if you're like me who wants to see a brighter and better world despite the trashy realities that surround us, maybe we can share this cup of tea.

(Also it wouldn't hurt if you can send the author some love. Part of that love is what keeps them going.)

(Also attaching the fic cos why not)

[familydrivenbyfate]

hi, saw your comment on the loki blog. just wanted to give you a bit of background. the mun has been struggling with depression for almost ten years. the anon wasn't being rude or mean (i hope) by sending that ask. i was around when the mun first started doing all this, and considering it's been a decade and nothing has changed, i just wanted to say it's important to not get too sucked in to their whole thing. many, many people left them over the years bc *nothing* changed. fyi. take care.

First off I want to say thank you for being kind in your ask, and I hope I do not come across as rude or snippy or anything throughout this ask. That is not my intent, however I know how somethings can be misinterpreted over the internet because tone, body language, and facial expressions can not be conveyed. Second off, I appreciate you coming in to explain the situation, I have been following that Loki blog for... Probably around eight or nine years. I followed them on my original blog before I archived it, and moved here. So I am aware of what you are talking about, and I am also aware of how it can be mentally draining for most to have someone in their life who is depressed, and so for their own mental well being they leave.

That all being said, I know how much negativity can affect someone in that state of mind. How one thing can reaffirm every negative thing you thought about yourself, and thus make it so the depression and thoughts become worse -- because you now know they are true and valid. I know how I feel when I am in those state of minds and someone says something to affirm that little negative voice in my head. I know how long it takes for me to get back on track. I can't speak for the owner of that blog, I just know how much one appreciates reassurance.

Battling depression is tricky. Half of the battle is you, and the other half is knowing you have people in your corner who are there for you and won't leave. Some people would rather not get help for their depression, others do but they feel as if it would be pointless because everyone keeps leaving -- leaving them without a support system, some can get help without a support system -- every person is different. I don't know where the owner of this blog falls in those terms. If they are someone who would rather not get help so they don't, or if they are someone who just needs to know they have people in their corner for when they do, or something else entirely. All I know is what I can do, and that is to show my support and let them know they are not alone just in case they are someone who wants help but feels like they need more support; or maybe someday they will change their mind from not wanting help to getting it because they know they have someone in their corner.

I am not blaming those who left, as I said I know how taxing it can be mental health wise, and understand why they left for their own wellbeing. I am however in a little better state mental health wise, and so I want the owner of that blog to know that I have their back; because at the end of the day we truly don't know what others are going through.

[lucysrain]

18 years ago, one of my favorite humans was born. He was small and very ugly and skinny. His skin was red and I remember I wasn't aloud to get very close. I wanted to play with him because I was only 4 years old, and my parents didn't let me.

For the next 4 years, I felt excluded from my family. I thought I was being forgotten and I grew up thinking I was the least important from my siblings.

My brother grew up being my dad's favorite. If we got into a fight, it didn't matter if he started because the blame was always on me. I thought having a little brother was the worst thing that ever happened to me.

We spent at least 10 years fighting. We couldn't get along, even if I tried. He became stronger and he wasn't aloud to punch me anymore but, he was still the favorite. I cannot count the times I said "I never wanted a little brother" to my family, and the times I felt rejected, alone, and depressed because of that.

But, when my brother became a teenager, things changed A LOT. He wasn't a kid anymore, he didn't want to play around or fight. He was now fragile and constantly needed advice.

I don't know when, I really don't know. I just know we started getting well. He would listen to me and I would listen to him. He became the first one to believe in my talents, and he even told me to audition for the X Factor. Hahaha. He believed in me, even if I wasn't good enough for that.

As the years have passed, him and I have gotten closer. Yes, every now and then, we still fight but, he's like a whole different person than he was, and so do I.

He has become one of my best friends and everyday I feel so lucky for having him in my life. I regret every single time I said I never wanted a little brother because, I do. And honestly I don't know what my life would be without him.

All I know is that I miss him when he's not around. I want him to archive every goal he has, even if life gives him more to him than to me, I don't care about it at all. I want him to succeed and to be a great human being, I want him to grow and be the best person he could be. He is the only one who laughs with me without saying anything because it is like we're having the same thought.

We have forgiven each other, and we support each other. I love my brother, and I'm so grateful for his existance.

[lisakuroo]

Your fluffy relationship hcs made me cri which I don't usually do idk if its bc its 1 am and I'm exhausted from studying or bc I'm just a sap. Or maybe both. Either way, could I possibly request hcs of akaashi, makki, bo and oiks

….. I accidentally pressed ask im sorry. Anyway, hcs of akaashi, makki, bo and oiks with an s/o who’s like a high achiever (ex: straight As, school captain, etc) her best to hide the fact that she feels dead inside and is suffering™ bc she has to set an example? (haha why does this sound familiar) Like, would they make it worse, would they help, what would they say, etc. please and thank, my dude. Love your blog. And you.

First of all, I am definitely familiar with this situation, so I totally understand your feelings right now. Wish you the best for studies and much love to you!♥ I am sorry this took so long. Also this may be more like an scenario, but I hope you enjoy it either way. Oh my god, I just noticed they are so long, hope they turned out good, though!

———————————————————————–

Oikawa:

He is familiar with this situation, since he tries his best possible too.

So it’s useless to hide your feelings, he knows how you feel and he finds the right words to make you feel better.

He invites you over, with you knowing nothing of course

As soon as you are in his room, he notices your forced smile and it hurts him a little bit.

He instantly picks you up like a bride, walks to his bed, sitting on it with you still in his arms.

He holds you as close as he is able to, his face buried in your hair

As soon as you open your mouth to talk, he interrupts you, “(Y/N)-chan you know you are human, you have flaws and that’s totally normal and good that way.” He kisses your hair. “Please, stop blaming yourself, you are the most beautiful, intelligent and admirable person I know”. 

Tears start streaming down your face, but he kisses all of them away

“There are so many people who look up to you, but that doesn’t mean that you have to set an example! It just means they admire you for the person you are and not for the forced perfect person!”

You were still shocked so you looked up to his face and noticed he is crying too. “(Y/N)… Please, please don’t feel lonely, I am here for you and I always will be! I can’t stand seeing you depressed and suffering with stress. You might think there is no purpose in feeling happy anymore, but trust me…” He cupped your face in his hands “… I love you and i know you are strong enough to get through this”

It felt so good to be finally able to cry out your worries, to have someone who understands you.

“Tooru…” was the only thing you managed to say, so you kissed him instead and whispered a soft “Thank you” in his ear.

Bokuto:

He may be a little bit dense, but he noticed that you were acting different lately.

You both were sleeping next to each other, when you suddenly started to cry. You were just holding back your emotions for too long.

Bokuto woke up because of that, of course he was confused and didn’t understand the situation.

He freaked out “(Y/N)! Are you okay?!” “Did someone hurt you? Are you being bullied?!” 

“A-ah Koutarou sorry, I woke you up. I was just having a bad dream, it’s nothing.” You tried to lie.

You were afraid that he might make it even worse

Surprisingly Bo sighed and hugged you from behind, still laying on the bed “(Y/N) I am not that stupid, tell me why you are suffering” “It is because of school isn’t it?” You flinched.

He caressed the back of your hand with his thumb, “I take that as a yes. But why?” ‘Why’ was a good question, but difficult to answer.

You weren’t able to say something, you just sobbed. He turned you around, so you were facing each other.

You tried to cover your face with your hand, but he took and kissed them.

“It’s fine if you can’t express your feelings right now, I am there if you need someone to talk, you know right?” You nodded

He started playing with your hair, “You are thinking too much, it’s not good for your happiness. Don’t be too hard to yourself and try to be proud of the things you already have archived!” It was a rare sight to see him with that serious, yet kind and soft gaze.

“I love you and I support you from the bottom of my heart”. He held you close to his chest and you finally were able to shed tears and feel a little bit of shiny hope.

Akaashi:

You got an exam back, which was pretty good, but you just weren’t satisfied with ’pretty good’. So you banged your head against the desk, disappointed.

That was when Akaashi noticed you and came over to make sure you were okay. 

As you noticed him, you tried your best to act normal. Well, too bad that he can see right through your compelled expression.

He took a chair, sat down in front of you and peered sharply in your eyes “(Y/L), I’m pretty sure banging your head against a desk, isn’t considered as normal” You were avoiding his gaze

“I told you before, you are not alone with your probl-” “No! That’s exactly it! You can’t help me with that!” Both shocked about your sudden anger.

Your eyes started to get teary. Realizing your condition was even worse than he thought he said, “I didn’t mean it that way”. He laid his hand on your thigh, “I admire your ambition, but there is a difference in being ambitious and simply overworking yourself. You are doing your best, I know that.”

You frowned “But what if my best just isn’t enough? What if I am just disappointed in myself? What if-” You didn’t get the chance to bring yourself down, because Keiji stopped you with putting his index finger at your lips.

“Shh, (Y/N)” he touched your forehead with his “you know that’s not true. Giving always 100% is more than enough, you can’t do more than that and, of course, no one wants to see you perfect all the time.” 

He kissed your forehead “With that being said, do you need a extra cuddling session tonight?” You nodded, while trying to hold your tears back.

At that night he tried his best, to make you smile, to make you feel proud and confident. Trust me, he caressed your back until you feel asleep.

Hanamaki:

He wanted to visit you, but caught you crying on your bed.

Was shocked at first, he is the calm type so he managed to keep his cool.

He sat down next to you, tried to speak as softly as he could. “(Y/N), what’s the problem?”

“Makki, I feel so empty inside, I don’t even know when I had fun the last time and smiled from the bottom of my heart…” Hot tears made their way down your cheek “Seriously how stupid am I?” 

He flinched as he peered in your somehow dead looking eyes. “(Y/N)…” he couldn’t choose the right words, so he came towards you ,sat you in his lap and rested his chin on your head.

It felt so warm and safe in his big arms so you let out a big sigh “I am so sorry for troubling you…”, he immediately talked in your ear “You aren’t even close to a trouble, you are so important to me, it really hurts seeing you suffering. I am just not sure what you are exactly going through right now.”

He entwined your fingers with his, while whispering “You are my love and I will support you no matter what” next to you.

He may not be good with words, but his actions speak for themselves. His warmth and care is literally all you needed to feel at least a little bit free and confident. 

To make you feel that way as much as possible, he got into the habit to pat you on your head, everytime he sees you.

[ao3feed-lokiangst]

Don't Cry My Sweet Boy

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2pR2QfG

by marvel_fanfictions

Loki is having a hard time dealing with his mothers death

Words: 847, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Frigga (Marvel)

Relationships: Frigga/Loki, Frigga & Loki

Additional Tags: Angst, Feels, lots of feels, I cried while writing this, Please Send Help, Who else cried, Character Death, Depression, Sadness, i don't know how to tag, Loki and frigga bond, Loki-centric, child Loki, Flashback, young loki, time lapse, age lapse, friggas death, loki blames himself, friggas amazing parenting, Canon Compliant, Change of minor details

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2pR2QfG