#but you could at least open it and see it's not actually a published study

[borrelia]

guys this is bogus ^

it's not a peer-reviewed article, just a pdf microsoft put out. they surveyed just over 300 people. the respondents self-reported whether they were using critical thinking or not. the observation that participants were using "less critical thinking" when using genAI, was also conditional: people who were relying on AI to help them in a field with which they were unfamiliar reported less critical thinking regarding the AI's result, while people familiar with the field reported more. this is just saying "people who were able to critically analyze the AI output did so, and people who lacked enough context did not." same as people uncritically passing around confident-sounding tumblr posts full of misinformation vs the users who know it's bullshit and expend energy typing up paragraphs debunking it.

also it should go without saying, this is a study funded by microsoft to help them improve their ai products.

Finally, design could aim to enhance the ability to execute critical thinking. We find that knowledge workers often refrain from criti- cal thinking when they lack the skills to inspect, improve, and guide AI-generated responses. GenAI tools could incorporate features that facilitate user learning, such as providing explanations of AI reasoning, suggesting areas for user refinement, or offering guided critiques. The tool could help develop specific critical thinking skills, such as analysing arguments [72 ], or cross-referencing facts against authoritative sources. This would align with the motivation- enhancing approach of positioning AI as a partner in skill develop- ment.

the point of this paper is just to identify how to make genAI accomplish its stated goals as a product. it's not a peer-reviewed study, it's not actually saying genAI is rotting our brains. it's saying "oh oops, people who don't know better are taking wrong ai answers at face value, and people who do know better aren't actually helped by the answers. needs some fine-tuning!"

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series is 18+ and will contain fluff, suggestion, SMUT (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mental health struggles, eating disorder, self doubt, body image issues, daddy kink, angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 28 - In My Dreams | ‘Ours’

word count - 10.7 k

You were sitting at the kitchen table on your Mac starting to figure out some semblance of a plan for how Teddy’s schooling would work. Of course the club provided a lot of assistance with this because it was slightly an abnormal dynamic but also Trent and more specifically Dianne obviously knew the area and school system well. Regardless of all of this help… you did not. You didn’t go to school ever in the uk. You didn’t even study abroad in England because you already ‘knew it’ well because of your dad. Now you were regretting that and kicking yourself for believing that having an English passport meant you knew anything. Needless to say you found yourself in a wormhole of information about dos and don’t, public, private, religious affiliation, all sorts of things fueling your anxiety and worry about making sure you’re little girl got the best but most normal experience she could. You definitely had access to a lot more opportunities than most given your situation but the anxiety was still high. You were entranced in an article until a large ‘whap’ sound echoed scaring the shit out of you.

“Holy shit!” You exclaimed really not expecting the sudden loud noise. You laid your hand over your heart to make sure it was still beating normally. A pile of 10 glossy magazines slapped down on the table next to you. You looked up to see a cheeky grin plastered to Trent’s face.

“Heard there’s an absolute sort in this issue ya know.” He cooed with a slight giggle. You rolled your eyes at him and pulled the stack to you across the slick table top. “Go on. Open one! I’ve been waiting for you. I haven’t seen it officially yet!” He exclaimed. You grabbed one copy and flicked through the magazine to find your published article.

“See that is a fucking good looking lad.” Trent continued to laugh at himself pointing to one picture with him in it. You sighed, inspecting your own appearance ignoring his lighthearted joke. He wrapped his arms tight around your shoulder from behind your chair. “Baby, you look fucking unreal. Please. You’re so beautiful. This is so exciting. Come on.” He tried to get you to be happy about the feature but you just felt critical.

“I look okay? I’m scared to even turn the page to see the rest.” You mumbled out leaning your head back into Trent.

“Y/N… UN fucking believable. I want these framed in the house also. This is so cool, baby. Please just be excited, at least for me. I’m so proud of you, yeah?” He cooed smushing his cheek to yours. You knew if he was calling you your first name he was being serious.

“Okay. It is kind of cool.” You mumbled out hating you were admitting that Trent was right but he was. This was actually a dream of yours. You were in British GQ. You were in British GQ and not just some small blurb, this was a full article, multiple pages. Photos of you and your family blown up printed on glossy paper and typed quotes of yours.you smiled reading the headline Bentley Brown actually used a that you’d mentioned to Trent before.

‘From Manhattan to Merseyside.’

From a whirlwind romance struck on a Manhattan street corner Y/N Alexander-Arnold née Y/L/N and her husband, one of football’s brightest stars, England’s Trent Alexander-Arnold captivated both sides of the Atlantic when they first were spotted galavanting in Manchester late into the night. The couple tied the knot this past summer in an equally lavish as it was relaxed ceremony on Y/N’s home soil. Family and friends only… and us. Y/N Alexander-Arnold, the epitome of glamour and high society, seamlessly blended their luxurious lifestyles, trading the bustling streets of Manhattan to a sprawling estate in the English countryside. Their story, marked by years of quiet cuddles hidden in the stands of the worlds biggest stages, designer wardrobes, and high-profile circles, has become the talk of the town, showcasing a perfect fusion of American charm and British elegance. Curious who the woman is with the pearly white smile and model figure sporting the number 66 every match week, we were too.

“Damn fucking right it’s cool. Baby look. You look so sexy in this, you sound so intelligent, the whole thing. It’s massive and you deserve recognition like this.” Trent was your biggest cheerleader and it made your heart want to leap out of your chest. He was so sweet. He pulled one of the chairs out from your kitchen table and sat down, legs spread wide, relaxing back into it picking up a copy of the magazine. He opened it to the page where the article began. He picked his head up with a devastatingly handsome smirk and patted his thigh for you to come sit. You obliged by standing up and moving to him. You sat on his strong muscular thigh in Dior silk pants and a white bralette. Trent’s big warm hands quick to wrap around your small waist squeezing you. You leaned your head onto his shoulder. “You look so fucking good. Ooff baby, I’ll tell you what that Trent Alexander-Arnold’s lad, he’s pretty fucking lucky, huh?” He joked dragging his finger over your body’s frame in one of the photos. He kissed your head with a hum.

“Thank you for being there for me, T. Really. It means so much to me like I know I would never be in a magazine if it weren’t for you.” You began to talk with a bit of a frown reflecting on the circumstances at which this feature came. Yes, it was about you but it was because you were Trent’s wife. You were proud to be his wife but of course it wasn’t the first time you’d felt like this tinge of insignificance. The magazine feature should have been 100% a good, positive, exciting thing but instead it felt like there would always be this bit of you, this percentile you couldn’t quite ever dwindle down that felt lesser than him. You remembered the fight you had before you went to New York after the FA Cup.

‘It felt like you could never measure up to the golden boy that was in the room with you. No matter where you went or what you did he was always going to look sparkly and new, fantastical and interesting and you couldn’t feel more opposite. You had been stripped of a sense of individualisation and identity. You were Teddy’s mum and Trent’s fiance. Y/N didn’t matter, anyone could fill in the blank of your name. The icing on the cake was the image you were trying to uphold all the while.’

“You know what, beautiful? I really don’t believe that. You could be a fucking centerfold.” Trent cut you off with a sincere smile as he flipped to the next page seeing arguably your favorite photo from the entire shoot. It was Trent carrying you thrown over his shoulder, Teddy chasing after you two out in your back garden. You could practically hear her giggle through the page. The photographer really captured your family beautifully. Even in your moments of feeling most insecure there would always be that silver lining, the most shiny gorgeous silver lining that was Trent and the little girl you made together.

“T…” You whined quietly trying to let him know you were attempting to be serious. “I just… I appreciate what you’ve given to me and I don’t mean the tangible things. I mean I love them.” You paused to giggle because let’s be honest the house, the cars, the holidays, the clothes, the jewelry were lovely. You smiled playing with one of the gold clovers of your Van Cleef necklace. “I just mean for how you make me feel, what you’ve done for me. Not to like get serious on you but you know I still have a hard time sometimes but it’s always okay because I have you. I have you and you made it so for the first time in my life I know that even as dark as it gets you’re there and that’s all I need.” You sighed hiding your face in the nape of his neck feeling bad that you just unloaded on him.

“You have me in the darkest and brightest moments of your life baby. I’m here for it all. And the best part about that is we got our little bestie along for the ride now too. Call me biased but that, and I'm not exaggerating, that is the cutest most perfect little girl I’ve ever seen.” Trent smiled inspecting the photo of the three of you. Ironic considering Teddy was a copy paste of him but you did agree.

“I think you’re right. You know what? I think we don’t tell Ted about this and just let her flip through till she sees us.” You laughed, turning your gaze from the magazine pages to Trent who was mindless licking over his lips. You hummed appreciating the view.

“That’s jokes, baby. Yeah, what time is it? When we wake her up we’ll show her. I want to see her reaction so don’t do it without me.” Trent cooed cupping your cheek. He stroked his thumb over your cheek looking deep into your eyes. “‘I’m proud of you baby. I know this was new and difficult for you. I am so proud of you, don’t forget that, okay?” He gently spoke, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“Thank you, baby. That means so much to me. So huh? You’re nice, you’re cute, you’re supportive, you’re sexy, arent you just perfect?” You teased kissing his forehead. He rolled his eyes.

“I am and so are you. Don’t forget that either.” He laughed squeezing your side.

“Look who's awake. My sleepy girl, want to go give daddy a cuddle?” You cooed to a very tired Teddy snuggling into you as you held her walking into the living room from upstairs after her nap. She pouted but you put her down anyway knowing that she would want a cuddle from Trent. She was just too tired to answer you.

“C’mere, baby bear.” Trent smiled big at her and grunted dramatically picking up her light weight body when she finally made it over to where he was sitting on the couch. “My beautiful girl.” Trent cooed, kissing her. You watched Teddy’s pink lips curl into an adorable smile. “Want to show me how smart you are? Can you tell me what this says.” Trent asked Teddy, flashing your eyes to you and pulling her further into his lap whilst he leaned forward to grab a copy of the issue of British GQ off the coffee table. On the cover off to the side there was the list of cover lines featured in the magazine, one of which read ‘Meet Mrs. Alexander-Arnold’ to lead into your interview. Trent traced his finger under the headline. Teddy couldn’t really read just yet. She could get words but it wasn’t like she was going to be reading the full article or anything but Trent knew she’d be able to read her surname.

“Alszander Arnal.” Teddy tried her best to pronounce your surname. To be fair, it was a little tricky and she was getting there. Honestly though, you liked the way she kind of stumbled her way through it. It was really really cute. As she said the double barreled last name aloud though she turned her head befuddled to Trent at why she was reading her surname for him and why it was on this magazine.

“Yeah, good girl! Alexander-Arnold. What do you think is in the magazine?” You applauded her effort and then asked her. She just furrowed her brow. Trent flicked through the magazine until he got near the feature and then made Teddy turn page by page. She got to the one before and Trent started to laugh preemptively.

“Mama!” Teddy screamed as she peeled the page back. There it was the first image of you covering an entire page. “Dada! Look is Mama!!! My mama!” She yelled with a massive smile on her face. Bewildered, surprised, and ecstatic.

“And who’s that? Is that my baby bear with daddy and mummy.” Trent turned the page for her once more and there was the photo of the three of you. She just squealed, picking the magazine up to have a closer look at herself chasing after you and Trent on the turf pitch with a football.

“Is that my pretty girl?” You cooed, coming to sit next to them. Trent pulled you by the waist of your trousers closer to him and Teddy.

“Das me, Mama!!! Teddy!” Teddy shrieked whilst trying to finagle her way out of Trent’s hold handing over the copy. She climbed off the couch and stood in front of you two. She reached out with grabby hands and pulled on Trent’s joggers. “Dada go ‘side like in piture. Footie ‘side now, tay?” She incessantly pulled and pulled on the fabric until he finally sat up some more and let go of his hold of you dropping the magazine into your lap, going to live the printed picture in real life.

“Okay, okay! The Teddy Alexander- Arnold wants to play footie with me? I can’t say no to that, can I?” Trent laughed, at her greedy smile pulling himself to get up with another grunt and a kiss to her forehead. “Alright, yeah it’s my day off but yeah, I’ll play footie.” He said more to you then to Teddy. He’d do anything for her. Was he exhausted and not in the mood to chase after your toddler outside in the freezing weather? Most definitely not but he would bundle Teddy up, throw on a pair of trainers and have a little kick about if it made his little girl smile. Every single time.

“Can you imagine if there were two of her.” You giggled watching Teddy pull on Trent’s facial hair as he zipped up her tan Moncler jacket. He removed her hand from his face for her with a laugh.

“Yeah, well then mummy would also have to go outside in the freezing cold because we’d need to have even numbers. 2 v 2. Right, Ted? Would you be on mummy’s team or daddy’s?” Trent asked Teddy.

“Erm… dada.” She was quick with her response gigging cheekily. You rolled your eyes kneeing before she even responded that would be her answer. Trent stayed bent over tying Teddy’s tiny brown Adidas campers that he had gotten her so they could match. If it was possible, in anyway, Teddy wanted to be like Trent. Naturally, Trent was flattered so anytime he got PR or grabbed anything from Adidas or really any brand he’d make sure to ask if they had a size for her. It didn’t bother you the way you thought it might have. Initially after you had Teddy you were so offended by her preference but now if she latched to him and gave you a minute alone it wasn’t always the worst thing. Lately, though you hadn’t really wanted that moment alone. You liked that she was so enamored with him. You definitely understand the attachment but you also knew when it came to certain things she’d quickly drop her daddy’s girl persona and come running to you. Needs her hair done? Mama. Is tired? Mama. A Cuddle? Definitely mama. Is Hungry? Mama. And hungry you knew the two TAA’s in your back garden would be when they came back in. They played for what felt like ages outside in the freezing cold while you got started on dinner. You could hear Teddy’s squeals, giggles, and ‘dada’s’ from inside. You were thrilled knowing that she’d be exhausted after Trent ran her ragged and would fall right to sleep tonight.

When you woke up the following morning Trent was feeling particularly handsy with you. Before you had fully even come to his big hands were kneading your boobs his thumbs lightly brushing over your nipples under the lacey blue pajamas you were in.

“Well good morning to you to baby.” You breathily giggled pushing your ass back into his morning hard on thinly covered by his boxers. You turned around still keeping yourself wrapped in his arms and pushed your nose against his. Trent’s hands drifted down your body to your hips and he pulled you tighter into him.

“Good morning to the sexiest girl in the world. I had a dream about you last night and let me tell you… wow.” He spoke with a morning raspiness in his voice that was unintentionally really turning you on.

“Really? Better than in real life?” You responded back, flickering your eyes between his sleepy brown ones and his perfectly plump lips silently suggesting that you play out whatever happened in his wet dream right now.

“Well…” Trent began speaking and your eyes shot open ready to be offended. “Relax…” he squeezed you. “Hold on, was just trying to say that sometimes I’m not entirely sure I’m not just dreaming every time I’m in bed with you. I don’t think it’s possible for someone to be so good, skin to be this soft,” he dragged his fingers purposefully up and down your side sending a shiver of anticipation up your spine. “ lips be so pillowy, god..” He groaned, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip as his other hand began to wander all over your body with much more intention. “These tits, just there's no way this is real life. You can’t possibly be real.” He rattled on with a more serious tone than you would’ve expected. You thought maybe he would have fallen into a joking manner but Trent was serious. He really felt that way. He was in a trance looking at you this morning.

“Maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m only just for you, made for you.” You teased wrapping your hands around the back of his head and gently pulling him into you for a kiss.

“Made for me. Just my real life angel, yeah?” He whispered, ghosting his lips over yours. Your lips falling into open mouth kisses. You moaned into his mouth when one of his hands dropped towards your panty covered pussy. He dragged his finger teasingly over the dampening fabric.

“If I’m your angel, baby then what does that make you?” You asked him almost out of breath pulling away from the vulgar kiss moving your lips and kisses over his jaw and down onto his neck.

“I don’t know but hell, baby you make me want to fucking sin.” Trent groaned as he rolled his head to the side giving you more room to nip away at his sensitive skin. He was in a mood the morning and you were onto it.

“I need you” You murmured against his skin desperately. You could feel your pussy pulsating and growing hot just from his teasing touch. Trent was salivating at the thought of you long before you’d even woken up. You could’ve had some sort of gradual build up or foreplay but you both were too hasty, too eager, you needed each other, you couldn’t wait. He fucked the daylights out of you. Orgasm after orgasm and yet you craved more.

“You’re just insatiable, aren’t you?” Trent smirked at you as he lined his cock up with your sopping wet entrance for round two. The sheets of your bed were practically damp sticking to your skin. You had no idea how long you and Trent had been going at for but you were thanking your lucky stars that Teddy had yet to wake up because you didn’t want this to end.

“I just want more and more of you, baby.” You begged pulling Trent by his hips into you again. He slowly pushed himself into your warm velvety pussy. You wrapped your legs around him greedily. You dragged him into a messy kiss moaning into his mouth when his cock hit deeper inside of you.

“Good, because I can’t get enough. Be a good girl and take all of me.” He pulled away from the kiss and whispered back, a soft smile lining his lips. “Fuck, baby you feel so good.” He muttered out as you did as instructed, taking every inch of him to the hilt. His voice still plagued by a morning raspiness that had you a mess beneath him. Trent bottomed out with a grunt as you clenched around him.

“T…baby.” You whined feeling euphoric in a way that it felt like you were fucking him for the very first time. You’d been so horny for him lately. Your emotions were all over the place. You were sad one minute or stressed the next hour and then happy the following day, it was constantly changing but the one thing that never shook, never faltered and would probably never change was how fucking bad you wanted Trent.he was addicting. He could see the emotions play out on your face; love, lust, pleasure, and your pure vulnerability with him. You’d let him do anything, you trusted his love for you.

“I know, baby. I’m right here. Doing so good f’me.” He whispered, leaning his forehead down against your shoulder. He slid his face up into your neck and placed gentle kisses to your skin as he began to thrust into you, creating the perfect rhythm, the symphony of your moans, his groans, the sound of your skin, pornographic. Both of you were incredibly sensitive after your orgasmic first round. You tightened your pussy’s grip around Trent’s length and he shivered. Your face falling into an ‘o’ as your brows pinched. Something about this felt different. He felt so good despite you being so sore so sensitive. You weren’t sure sex had ever felt this good, you had no idea why, it was a random weekday morning, but you were not complaining. “I know, I know, baby. So good f’me.” Trent continued coaching you through stretching you out more and more as his soft plump lips grazed over your slick skin. He breathed you in with a groan. Your scent drove him crazy. He was so in love with you. Every bit of you. Every feature had him down terribly bad. No amount of time together would ever be enough for either of you. He needed all of you all the time. As desperate as you had been feeling, you had dragged Trent into the depths of the emotion with you and right now you were both benefiting from its repercussions. Your eyes began to water from the pleasurable feeling of his strokes but more so from the eye contact you two were holding, the emotion behind his eyes had you having a hard time swallowing. “I love you so much, baby. I love you. You have no idea, so fucking much.” Trent babbled away getting lost in you, his voice certain in his words. “I love you so much it could kill me.” Trent’s thrust faltered a little. He meant that. You were all consuming to him.

“I love you, T. I love you so much. I couldn’t live without you. I love you, I love you, I… I…” You babbled back to him just the same, lost in your feelings, tears streaming down your face . Your words only halted by the gasp and sudden intake of air you sucked in when Trent’s hand dropped in between you two working his fingers in tight circles over your clit. He was pounding into you aggressively and yet he never felt more loving. He gripped your thigh with his free hand, his fingers digging into the plushness of you pushing it up to your chest. He dropped his face down simultaneously and began to suck on one of your nipples. He was doing so much at once you couldn’t focus. You were completely at his mercy, submissive to any way he folded your body and you loved every single second of it.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby. I’m gonna cum again. Fuck you feel so good. Can you cum with me?” Trent’s words were muffled by his face buried in your tits. You could barely respond. All you could do was moan and whine out his name. “Hmm? Can you cum f’me?” He asked again as your thighs shook. You weren’t sure how many times you had orgasmed this morning. You nodded pathetically unable to even identify where you were. You were holding it together by the flimsiest of threads. It wasn’t exactly a big ask to let it snap. Your orgasm came before his, crashing over you, your pleasure always his priority. You squirmed under him as you creamed all on his throbbing cock. Trent groaned as you clenched tighter around him. He drew out his high thrusting into you still. He didn’t let you come down, he just layered a secondary orgasm on top of the last. You felt a type of blissful delirium you could never articulate with words, it was indescribably good. Trent let out a filthy groan as he hit his own climax. Your eyes rolled back and your heels dragged down his muscular back as you felt him fill you up as promised, pumping you full. His warm release leaking out between you two still connected. Trent lazily kissed you as he stilled, laying his body weight onto you. If you could, you wished he could just stay inside you forever. It was like this was the safest, most comfortable you could be. It was what you had been craving. Him. You needed him. At the beginning of your relationship with him, day one in fact Trent was adamant telling you that you were his. He’d tell you ‘you’re mine’ on repeat and you had a hard time believing it. How he knew that, thought that so early on. Sometimes you wondered how he had such foresight because right now as he rolled over and pulled you to lay on top of him you stared into your husband’s beautiful mahogany puppy dog eyes that you hard time wrapping your head around that they could also do all the dirty things he had just done with you, you knew he was right from the start. You were his and he was yours. You cupped his cheeks with your hands and rested your slightly slick forehead against his. The glow on your face had Trent pink lips curling into a tired smirk. His hands caressed your bare back up and down your spine with a hum as your erratic breaths slowly began to even out. You ran one hand over his hair and smiled.

“Even after all this time, no matter how many years go by, lifetimes we could live in, it will always be you.” You quietly told him. He hummed and kissed the bridge of your nose.

“In this lifetime and the next and even in my dreams. It’s you.” He hushly spoke with a stoic expression. “I used to build dreams about you. You’ve made my life a dream, baby. I’m not sure I’ve woken up since I met you.” He mused and you felt your heart falter.

“I will always find you, T. In each one, I’m meant to be yours.” You cooed, brushing your nose back and forth over his. “I’ve been missing this…” you sighed. “Missing you so much lately. Sometimes I feel like I was missing you before we even met.” You confessed imagining the same warm honey hue his eyes had on 78th street that they did right now.

“You are mine. My baby, my angel, my pretty girl, my everything, my whole world, my forever. You, Y/N are it.” He kept his eyes fixed on you, confirming his sincerity. He was right, you weren’t sure it was possible to be anything but a dream. This was a love you could only dream of.

“Annnndd she’s ours.” You giggled hearing a stir come from a monitor off on your bedside table. You turned the screen towards you and kissed Trent’s nose.

“I’m holding Teddy, relaxxxx.” Trent laughed as you slipped your hands under his t-shirt running your nails over his abs. He was stood holding your little girl as you stood in your laundry room on a mission to find a very specific shirt that Teddy was very clear she needed to wear today. You followed Trent around all day after that dream like morning sex.

“I can’t stop thinking about this morning.” You whispered behind the shell of his ear, pushing your body into his from behind. He rolled his eyes and moved Teddy from his hip to sit on the machine. He turned and grabbed your face rashly and you giggled uncontrollably when he began to nuzzle himself against your neck, nipping at your skin.

“I will take care of you tonight, alright? Don’t I always?” He cooed to you sliding his big hands over the curve of your ass. You hummed.

“Dada me too!” Teddy without fail felt left out. She saw the beaming smile on your face left by her dad and she was jealous. Trent turned around quickly, letting go of you, completely smitten with him, and scooped Teddy up blowing raspberries against her skin sillily.

“T… baby.” You whined, squeezing him as tight as you could, nuzzling your face into his cotton t-shirt under you. You’d been so clingy to Trent and especially after the type of sex you’d been having lately you were practically glued to him.

“Come gimme a kiss, baby.” Trent cooed as you laid in bed that night. He pulled you tight to him with a kiss to your lips first and then he kissed your temple. You wiggled your body into him to be as physically close as possible. You whined his name hiding your face in his neck. “So needy for me, huh? You promise everything’s okay, sweet girl? You’re making me a little nervous. I'm not gonna lie. I mean you’ve been eating fine I thought. You’ve been doing so well with Ted, you and I’ve been fine but it just feels…” he paused, taking a deep breath not sure how to quite articulate how you’ve been acting and why it was giving him a bit of anxiety without upsetting you. Although to be fair, he had every right to be worried after the year and half you’d had with your health.

“I just… I don’t know. You’re right everything is okay I guess. I just feel really needy like you said. Like I just want to be with you all the time and then today I just felt so nauseous all day. I’ve been waking up so fatigued. Ted has so much more energy now as well and all I want to do is just squish her and hold her with me all day and it’s kind of sad she doesn’t want that anymore. She wants to run and play which is amazing and I’m glad she’s happy and goofy but like I’m tired.” You cooed sadly to Trent wallowing in the fact that your baby girl was getting older whether you liked it or not.

“Baby, she does want that. Ted loves a cuddle with her mummy. She just also wants to learn and explore. It’s good that she’s independent and curious. You know if you really asked her she’d always come and give you a big cuddle and in between those times where maybe she just wants to mess about, you always have me. I’m here. I love a cuddle with mummy.” He kissed your lips gently with a hum. “I’m sorry you haven’t been feeling well, baby. I’ll keep my eye on you, alright? Just tell me whenever you need me. I’m always here for you.” He whispered, keeping his lips tight to you ghosting over yours.

“I know. I love you, T. Can you just hold me all night? I don’t want to be apart.” You asked him fairly sadly, feeling a bit pathetic with yourself. He hummed with his eyes closed pulling you tighter into him. “Thank you. Night, baby.” You kissed his bare chest squishing your face into him. He mumbled a ‘night, beautiful’ into your hair.

“Hey, baby, what are you doing awake so early?” Trent grumbled with a raspy voice sitting himself up in bed moving back to lean onto your headboard seeing you sneak out of the bathroom back towards bed. He frowned at you. You were an early riser but it was really fucking early, this was abnormal. He pulled the blankets down for you to get back in. “Good morning, beautiful girl. How we feeling today?” He cooed more gently watching you cautiously and slowly bring your body back onto the mattress. He pulled you back into him, wrapping you in his warm embrace.

“I’ve gotten sick twice this morning already. I didn’t want to wake you. I think I caught a bug or something.” You pouted nuzzling into Trent. “T, I feel horrible. I feel so sick. Every day I feel like I’ve gotten worse this week. I… I just..” You stuttered, getting your words out and started to cry unable to hold back the emotion. “I can’t keep up with her today. I can’t do it. I feel so exhausted I can’t manage her on my own. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m the worst. It’s my only job and I can’t do it” You started crying more and more, feeling horrible, admitting to the fact that taking care of Teddy seemed like it would be an impossible task.

“Beautiful, you’re doing amazing. You’re such an incredible mum. Baby, this is not your only job, you do so much. Also, this is one of the hardest jobs in the world. It is really hard. Please don’t say you’re sorry to me. I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well. What can I do?” He spoke gently to you feeling like if he raised his volume even a little above a whisper it would bruise you.

“T… I’m failing.” You croaked out embarrassed by the fear you’d be unable to take care of your daughter today.

“You’re not. Come here, sweetheart. Can you stay in bed for me today? I’ll make Ted breakfast and call my mum. I’ll ask her to take her today. She can handle that very cute bundle of energy. Just take today to rest please. I’ll make sure you’re okay, head to training a little late, and if you need me, even to just get you a tea, you call me and I’ll come right home. If not, then I’ll be home as fast as I can right after training back to my beautiful girl. Hmm?” He cooed and you sighed a sad ‘ok.’ Trent did as he said, he got himself dressed for training, he woke Teddy up, got her changed and downstairs for breakfast, then came knocking at your door a little while later.

“Mummy’s a little sleepy so we have to be quiet, okay?” You could hear Trent whisper to Teddy as they walked into your bedroom. Teddy trailed Trent clinging to his joggers as he carried a water and a cup of tea in his hands for you.

“Baby, how do ya feel?” He spoke softly rubbing his hand over your head after putting the drinks down on your bedside table. You rolled over more onto your side to get a better look at them. You just hummed with a soft smile as Teddy haphazardly climbed up into your bed and squirmed her way into your embrace.

“Mama, morning time. Why still sleepy?” She asked you and you didn’t even have the energy to try to get into your current state so you just kissed her forehead. “Know I lub you most.” She said to you with a dramatic whisper. She was trying hard to whisper the best she knew how but it was more like just speaking more breathy at regular volume.

“I know Ted. Thank you, baby. I love you the most. Mummy’s just a little extra sleepy.” You cooed meekly, kissing her cheek. “You’re going to have such a good day with Nana today though. That’ll be much more fun.” You told her hoping you could convince her that it’d be fun and you knew it would be once she got there. Dianne was amazing with Teddy, of course, but you knew Teddy well enough to know that no matter how fun something like this would be, if there was no mummy or daddy it was going to be a hard sell.

“Want stay with you, tay?” She informed you as anticipated. You gave her a sympathetic grin appreciating how attentive she was to you but you needed her to go to Dianne’s so you mustered all the strength you had to sit up a little in bed. Trent moved quickly to grab Teddy from you and plop her off the bed onto her own two feet. Your weakness and what you assumed to be a run down body was apparent to him.

“No, no, you want to go play and sing and dance, you don’t want to lay with me all day, silly girl. Plus you haven’t gotten to tell Nana all about how well you’ve been taking care of the doggies too, right?” You cooed to her cupping her cheek as she leaned her body goofily onto the bed to stay close to you. She gave you a disappointed nod of the head. Teddy had been taking it upon herself to help out more and more with your two dogs. It was sweet and she was very very proud of herself. It didn’t really relieve any of the actual duties of care from you or Trent but it was cute. “And then when you come home you have to tell me every single fun thing you did with Nana. I want to hear every bit, cute girl.” You smiled at her trying to reinforce the idea that her day would be well worth her going and leaving you.

“Will miss. Mama know I lub, tay?” She told you once more. It was cute. You knew she did but again, getting her to leave you was not an easy task. Frankly, you would have loved to cuddle up with your baby girl all day right now but that is definitely not something she had the attention span for. Your energy levels at the minute couldn’t have been more opposite.

“Okay, baby. I know, I’ll miss you too. Go ahead please. Have fun.” You cooed gently and quietly as you laid back down defeated into your pillow feeling another wave of nausea wash over you again. You had a horrible migraine that not even closing your eyes was making it dark enough for you to feel more at ease. Before Trent went downstairs you scribbled on a post it note in your room and had told him to pack something for Teddy as an aid to get her to be a bit more happy once they got to Diannes.

“Thanks mum for watching her. I told you Y/N thinks she just caught a bug or something. She was up early sick so really appreciate you taking Ted.” Trent spoke to Dianne in the foyer of her house as Teddy clung to his leg in an effort to not let him get to training. He was attempting to drop Teddy off and make it to training on time, to avoid a team fine but Teddy was being stubborn.

“No problem, hun. Everything alright? I haven’t heard that anything is going around.” Dianne brushed her hand over Teddy’s curls but kept her gaze on Trent with a raised brow. Trent gave her a confused look in return not sure what her suspicious face was for. Dianne dropped it though and smiled with a shake of the head. “We’re going to have a fun day, right my Teddy girl? What do you want to do today?” She asked sweetly to Teddy.

“Be with my mama, nana.” Teddy answered her sadly with a signature pout and puppy dog eyes Dianne was now enduring the second generation of. Teddy had inherited Trent’s beautiful face and certainly the same face that had people around them crumbling.

“Oh, I know. Mummy is the best but you’ll see her soon. How about we go play outside, we can watch a movie, we can make you some yummy food.” Dianne paused seeing Teddy’s face unchanged. Nothing she offered her was going to be better than being with you but she’d try one last effort she knew was Teddy’s latest fixation “We can color.” She drew out the word with a smile, squinting her eyes a little seeing Teddy’s face immediately respond to the option.

“Oh I know that look… I think you heard something you like, huh?” Trent cooed, coming to squat down next to Teddy, their faces now level. Teddy loved coloring and she was getting better and better at it. ‘Better’ is subjective but her progress had Trent singing her praises and she was eating it up. It was a nice activity for her and you liked how careful she was with all the markers and supplies you’d get her. She took care of it all and put everything back neatly. Trent said it was bizarre but you loved that she inherited a sense of organization and meticulousness from you. It was adorable. “Did you check in your bag we brought yet? I think there’s something special in there” He asked her as he reached behind him to grab her pink Stoney Clover backpack with her own ‘TAA’ initials on it and bring it towards them. She unzipped it slowly not understanding that this was something to be excited about. But there it was inside, a brand new pack of markers you had gotten for her, you had planned to give her at some point but no time like the present. Trent had stuck the post it note you’d written on to the packaging.

‘Show Nana how well you color, my Teddy bear. I love you so so much. Love mummy xx’

“Wow Teddy! Your mummy must love you so much! I think we should color today then if mummy gave those to you.” Dianne cooed excitedly watching Teddy’s smile grow and grow on her face and her eyes go wide, absolutely gassed about the markers.

“C’mere baby. Let’s read what mummy wrote on this little note for you.” Trent pulled Teddy into him and held the sticky note in front of them and helped her work through the worlds, essentially just Trent reading to her. When they finished, Teddy giggled and hugged the pack of markers to her chest. “Aw baby, you’re so excited. So you have to do what mummy said, yeah? Gonna show Nana how good you are at coloring with your new markers?” Trent cooed before kissing her cheek. Teddy nodded and for the first time since they entered the house took steps away from Trent. They said goodbye and Teddy took off to a little table and chairs for toddlers Dianne had at her house for her. Teddy knew exactly where it was and she couldn’t wait any longer to get there.

Trent drove home after a long fairly thought provoking training session. All day at AXA he couldn’t shake the thought of his mum’s questioning look when he said you were sick. As he was stopped at the traffic light before he entered your neighborhood, the possibility smacked him in the face. He gasped and leant his head back onto the headrest of his seat in the car, eyes wide. Trent puffed out some air and shook his head with a stupid grin. He couldn’t wait to get home.

“Beautiful, can I ask you something and please don’t take it the wrong way.” Trent asked you about an hour after he’d gotten home. He had checked in and made sure you were okay before he began his probe. You hummed not thinking about anything other than how shitty you felt today. “Ermm…” Trent paused, getting a little nervous to ask his question, beginning to second guess himself but he mustered up the courage after he took a deep breath and looked at you. He looked deep in your eyes and he sighed. He knew you. He knew you so well, he couldn’t be wrong. “When was the last time you got your period?” He asked you and you tilted your head confused and then you felt your stomach sink.

“Oh my fucking god…” You gasped and felt your soul just about leave your body. You were not being careful in the slightest in bed but it wasn’t like you’d been actively trying. You were more shocked that you hadn’t thought about this possibility though. You couldn’t help it, you just started balling your eyes out. Your tears felt like they were just endlessly flowing.”I… I… I can’t be. No.” You stuttered out the words. Trent was a little confused because, just as well as he knew you, he could tell these were not tears of joy or excitement, this was fear. Your emotions were all over the map lately and uncontrollable, it should’ve been obvious.

“Baby… Are you okay? C’mere please.” Trent sat down on the bed and pulled you into his embrace. He was holding your body up for you. You were in a completely blanked state. You couldn’t think. “Let’s just take a test alright? Let’s find out. It could just be a bug, I could be wrong. You’re gonna be okay, I promise.” Trent tried to comfort you.

“I can’t know…” You muttered out. You felt the words leave your mouth and you knew that wasn’t possible so you sighed. You squeezed Trent. “Can you come with me?” You looked up at him with teary eyes, water clumping in your eyelashes. Your bottom lip rolled into a quivering pout.

“Yeah, baby, of course. I’ll be there the whole time.” Trent cooed and helped you up from the bed. You had a few extra pregnancy tests in the cupboard of the bathroom stashed away for a situation like this but you kind of thought you’d be more prepared to take them when the time came. Trent got one out for you and handed it to you. When you took it he grabbed your hand and pulled it to him. He kissed your hand. “Whatever, absolutely whatever any test says. I love you and you will be okay.”

“Can you turn around?” You mumbled out embarrassed. Trent gave you a cheeky smirk silently saying ‘really, baby… I’ve seen you in labor. I don’t think you peeing is going to be all that big of a deal.’ It lightened your stone heart momentarily but when he did what you asked and turned around, you lost eye contact with his support and your heart hardened again. The thing was it’s not that you were massively opposed to another baby, it just was so overwhelming. There were a lot of factors at play. You were so stressed by how you would manage two babies so little when Trent had to be away for football. Today you couldn’t even get out of bed. What would happen if you had two babies and he was out of the country? Another reason, god, what if a postpartum depression came back worse this time around. Last time you were borderline suicidal.

“T, baby, I can’t… I’m sorry I’m so scared.” Tears began to fill your lash line again you stood up and Trent turned around. You placed the cap back onto the test and hugged Trent. In a backwards way his comfort triggered your tears to begin to fall again more rapidly.

“My beautiful girl, put this here.” He grabbed the test and put it on your sink counter. “You, my amazing wife, Teddy’s amazing mummy, you come with me. I got the timer. All you need to do is come and give me the best cuddle you’ve ever given me in your whole life, okay?” He moved you to come lay on top of your bed and pulled you into his embrace. He held you securely but gently whispering ‘I love you’ on repeat again and again quietly into your hair. After the alotted 5 minutes or so the sound of the alarm blaring from Trent's phone made you jump, wince, and your heart stop all at once. You were about to find out if you’d be a family of 4 and you also felt like you were about to be sick..

“Can you look? Sorry I’m being such a… I don't know I’m such a mess. I’m sorry baby.” You mumbled into his cotton t-shirt that you had now soaked with your tears.

“Baby shhh. Shhh, okay? You stay right here. I will go get it. Just you stay here and be my beautiful dream girl.” Trent let go of you and you felt like you could cry more just losing his comforting hold momentarily. He picked up the test in the ensuite and stifled his gasp. His smile was massive but he shook it off his face and looked down at a very clear positive pregnancy test. He came back into the room and he had a smile you usually hated to see one that was sympathetic and a little sad. “Y/N…” He whispered, stroking his hand over your head. “You’re pregnant. It says we’re pregnant. It’s positive, baby.” As the words rolled off his tongue Trent couldn’t suppress the smile he really felt. He was beaming, ecstatic but as you heard the words fall out his mouth you felt sick.

“Oh…” You sighed with disappointment in your voice. “Oh my god. Look how happy you are. I should be. I’m the worst fucking mum in the world. Fuck. I’m so sorry.” You looked up at Trent with swollen red eyes from all your tears. “T…How did you know?” You croaked out curious what made him think of this when you hadn’t. You felt so stupid honesty. How could you not see it. You were beating yourself up internally.

“Don’t know, baby. Just instinct. I think I know you pretty well.” He laughed shyly, running his hand behind his neck. “You were so cuddly and getting sick and It just felt like last time a little bit and baby… we…” Trent started to laugh with a gentle smile coming to give you a cuddle. “We fuck a lot.” He continued his laugh. You couldn’t help but at least crack a small smile.

“I guess better than I know myself.” You sighed realizing that Trent probably did know you better than you knew yourself. “T… it’s just… I just got my body back to a place I wasn't grossed out by.” You whimpered pushing your face into his chest upset by the idea of going through the lovely bodily changes of pregnancy again. You���d been working so hard in the gym to get fit and with your care team to get healthy.

“Baby, we’ll do whatever you need.” Trent unexpectedly told you. He was calm with his words but the sentiment was kind of insane. You wouldn’t dream of not having this baby because of something so selfish like appearance. Trent didn’t see it as selfish he saw it as your mental wellbeing. But you thought you wanted babies with Trent, plural.

“T, stop.. it’s not just my decision.” You lashed out at him pulling yourself off him in a flustered state. You felt your tears fill your eyes again. You pulled your legs up onto the bed and wrapped your arms around them, pulling your knees tight to your chest.

“I know, I know but baby we’re going to do what’s best for you though.” Trent sighed, rubbing his hand over your smooth leg. He meant it. He did. He wanted to do what was best for you but the thought of getting pregnant and then deciding not to go through with it made him a little sick.

“I need a minute alone.” You snapped standing up prioritizing your own feelings, unable to look at him. You knew the expression you could imagine was on his face would be heartbreaking. It was a really emotionally conflicting thing. He tried to call out to you but knew better and just let you go. You locked the door of the en suite and slid down the back of it, seating yourself on the floor. You cried and cried raking your brain if you were ready for this. Were you an okay mum? Would you be disappointing Trent if you decided not to have another baby? Would you be doing a disservice to this unborn baby by having him or her? You were terrified of falling back into a depressive state but as you rested your forehead onto your knees in front of you, you clocked a tiny silver frame on the marble countertop above you out of the corner of your eye. You sighed seeing matching toothy grins of the two people you loved more than anything in the world. More than yourself. You could almost hear the photo of Trent telling Teddy to say cheese. Her babbling out her attempt, something like a ‘cheebs.’ You kept crying but not because you were questioning yourself, or your abilities but because of how in love you were with being a mum, having this family. Your family was everything to you, the three of you and now the possibility of a fourth didn’t sound so bad. Another cute voice learning to ‘cheese’ in photos with the best husband and dad in the world, the love of your life didn’t sound so bad. It took you a bit of time but you eventually pulled it together.

“T…” you whispered coming back into the bedroom. You sighed and ran your hands over your face feeling guilty inspecting Trent’s body language. He was more upset than you anticipated. He wasn’t pouting intentionally, he just really wanted this. This was the best news ever for him but he was trying to talk himself down and to the fact you might want to get rid of the pregnancy. “I want this…” you cooed hugging him from behind as he laid curled up on the bed.

“C’mere, baby.” You could audibly hear him let out a deep breath. He turned to face you and pulled you tight into an embrace, tucking your head under his chin. “If you…” he began to talk.

“I want this, okay? This baby… I do.” You interrupted him, stopping what he was going to tell you, clarifying that you were certain about this.

“If it’s not the right time for us or it’s too much.” Trent was persistent with his thoughts. He kissed your head trying to tell you that no matter what he’d be there but it was breaking his heart and you could hear it in his voice.

“Stop… I really do.” You pulled your head out from against him to look him in the eyes. You were serious. You wouldn’t change your mind. You wanted a second baby.

“Yeah? You’re sure you can? You can’t do this for me.” He haphazardly got the words out not sure how to express what he was feeling. The last thing Trent wanted to do was put pressure on you.

“It’s not for you. It’s for us.” You hummed with a soft smile. Your lips began to curl more and more. Both you and Trent could feel the tension in the room evaporating. He gave you a questioning look silently so you spoke again. “I always thought we’d have like multiple kids. I don’t know. Right? Wasn’t that what we wanted?” You giggled a little trying to recall the exact plans or discussions you had had in the past. It all felt a little blurry thought. “Like not in a weird way but don’t you think it’d be silly for us to not at least try for a boy.” You smiled at him imagining a little boy.

“I think it’ll be another girl but I get your sentiment. C’mere, baby. I love you so much.” Trent cupped your face and gently pulled you into a kiss that felt like heaven. It felt like relief. You smiled into it, starting to laugh imagining another baby in the house. “Let’s have Ted sleep at my mum’s. Just need to be with my favorite girl tonight.” Trent cooed and although you wanted to correct him with a tease telling him you knew Teddy had replaced you as favorite you just hummed. “Baby… I’m really really happy. I love being a dad. I love our family.” Trent whispered into your hair kissing your head a few times.

“You’re the best daddy. Just the best, baby. It looks good on you too.” You giggled a little more picturing how good he looked carrying Teddy around, you assumed a second would only double the attraction. You were only able to kiss at his neck from your close proximity and his hold of you, limiting any movement. “T… I’m a little scared though.” You got out the obvious fear you were harboring after a couple quiet minutes embraced in a hug.

“I know, beautiful. You can be scared but you got me the whole way. You’re so strong. You can do this.” Trent tried to put you at ease with encouragement.

“Are you excited?” You meekly and sheepishly asked him, trying to divert from a more serious conversation and confessional about your fears. You could guess the answer but you wanted to hear him say it.

“I am gassed right now, seriously? Creating a life with you, having a family? It’s an absolute dream.” Trent looked at you confused with a furrowed brow. How could you not know that he thought that.

“You’re such a good daddy.” You sighed hugging him. You breathed him in. His scent wrapped around you, calming all your fears by just simply being there with you.

“Think I do okay?” He asked you with a bit of smugness in his tone. You smiled with your face still hidden pressed against his neck. You loved Trent’s cheek.

“Yeah, really the best. Ted… and I guess this little baby here are so lucky.” You cooed, moving your hand to your still flat stomach. Trent let his eyes flutter closed and moved his hand to lay over top of yours. He kissed your forehead as a silent ‘thank you.’ He could never properly thank you for giving him a family of his dreams but you were just the same. There were no words.

Trent was fucking beaming when he picked up Teddy from Dianne’s the next day. Call it a mother’s intuition but Dianne knew something was up. She easily put two and two together but bit her tongue letting you two have your privacy. You had called your doctors and made the appointment to find out for real how far along you might’ve been. Like Trent said, you had sex a lot you had no idea when this could’ve happened.

“I missed you baby bear. You had so much fun with Nana huh?” Trent cooed to Teddy looking through his rearview mirror back to her tucked in her carseat in his big car.

“Told dada.” She quipped fairly sassily. Teddy inheriting Trent’s own personality traits was biting him in the ass. His eyes widened.

“Well, I know but I’m just asking sheesh, Ted. Are you going to give Mama your pretty drawing when we get back home? She’ll be so happy to see you. I know she’ll love it” Trent continued on. When Dianne had handed over all of Teddy’s things from her impromptu sleepover to Trent she had to make sure, per Teddy’s instructions, that her artwork she’d made was kept nice and safe because it had to get to it’s recipient, you, safely. You had a museum full of Teddy drawings, each one priceless… to you. Likes squiggles on a paper to a stranger.

“Yeah huh, for my mama.” She mumbled getting distracted fixating on the little tray of her car seat filled with cheerios just moving them around. She had complained that she was hungry and couldn’t wait till she got home but evidently not enough to eat said cereal. Trent winced every time he heard Teddy crumble one up littering his car with crumbs. Anyone else… he’d be fuming.

“We’re gonna stop at the shop first, okays?” Trent told Teddy. She just gave him a ‘tay’ as expected. Trent parked his car in your local town shopping center ahead of getting back home because he wanted to get you some flowers. He held Teddy’s hand as they fumbled around the florist letting her decide the color of flowers. He knew chrysanthemums weren’t your favorite flower but Teddy was adamant that you would like the pink color which she was sort of right. In her defense, she did have the experience Trent did. She hadn’t been buying you flowers just about every month for the past 5 plus years.

“You know what, Ted? You get mummy the pink flowers, okay? And dada will get her white ones.” Trent decided two bouquets would work then, one from your babies, Teddy and your new addition, and one from your baby, Trent.

“Tay, mama like pink doe.” Teddy stayed set on the fact that you’d want the pink and Trent was wrong. It was a battle of two of the same people. Neither would concede but Trent realized he was in his mid twenties and Teddy hadn’t even hit three, so he compromised despite a tinge of confidence that he knew you liked the bouquets he usually got for you, luxurious, lavish, chic. Teddy did have the advantage of her handing over her pink cute flowers with chubby cheeks raised in a smile indented with dimples. To be fair though Trent had those dimples too. As they left the shop walking to the car two excited young men stopped them asking for a selfie with Trent. Trent was hesitant, shy, and protective of Teddy, moving his hand to her back pushing her to him but of course he obliged. “Yeah, no worries mate.” Trent ushered the kids away from him after they got the photo as Teddy stood wrapped around his leg swinging her tiny body back and forth impatiently.

“Dada, how come piture?” Teddy asked inquisitively, confused why people were stopping her daddy in the car park.

“Erm… they just know daddy from footie.” Trent answered her as simply as possible. She gave him a ponderous ‘oh’ and then went quiet as he put her into her car seat.

“Why?” Teddy pipped up again, still pressed about what just happened. You had officially entered the ‘why’ stage of toddlerhood.

“You know when you watch daddy at Anfield or when you and mummy watch the matches on the telly?” Trent cooed gently pushing a fallen curl behind her ear. “They like the way daddy plays the game so they watch dada on tv too.” Trent further elaborated for her.

“Ohs cause my dada bests.” She adorably tacked on to his explanation. Trent hummed in agreement with a soft smile. “But, dada…” Teddy cooed, continuing her thought looking to Trent who was getting into the drivers side. “Mine and mama’s, tay?” She spoke up, wanting to just cement and confirm that those guys could appreciate Trent and take a photo but Trent was in fact hers.

“Yeah, course. Only yours, baby bear.” Trent smiled back at her, kissing his hand and pressing it to her little legs dangling in her seat. He liked her possessiveness over him. “Let's go give mama her flowers and your drawing.” he cooed with a smile and a wink back in the mirror to her.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🤍

Next part - Chapter 29 xx

[mariacallous]

The rapid spread of artificial intelligence has people wondering: Who’s most likely to embrace AI in their daily lives? Many assume it’s the tech-savvy—those who understand how AI works—who are most eager to adopt it.

Surprisingly, our new research, published in the Journal of Marketing, finds the opposite. People with less knowledge about AI are actually more open to using the technology. We call this difference in adoption propensity the “lower literacy-higher receptivity” link.

This link shows up across different groups, settings, and even countries. For instance, our analysis of data from market research company Ipsos spanning 27 countries reveals that people in nations with lower average AI literacy are more receptive toward AI adoption than those in nations with higher literacy.

Similarly, our survey of US undergraduate students finds that those with less understanding of AI are more likely to indicate using it for tasks like academic assignments.

The reason behind this link lies in how AI now performs tasks we once thought only humans could do. When AI creates a piece of art, writes a heartfelt response, or plays a musical instrument, it can feel almost magical—like it’s crossing into human territory.

Of course, AI doesn’t actually possess human qualities. A chatbot might generate an empathetic response, but it doesn’t feel empathy. People with more technical knowledge about AI understand this.

They know how algorithms (sets of mathematical rules used by computers to carry out particular tasks), training data (used to improve how an AI system works), and computational models operate. This makes the technology less mysterious.

On the other hand, those with less understanding may see AI as magical and awe inspiring. We suggest this sense of magic makes them more open to using AI tools.

Our studies show this lower literacy-higher receptivity link is strongest for using AI tools in areas people associate with human traits, like providing emotional support or counseling. When it comes to tasks that don’t evoke the same sense of humanlike qualities—such as analyzing test results—the pattern flips. People with higher AI literacy are more receptive to these uses because they focus on AI’s efficiency, rather than any “magical” qualities.

It’s Not About Capability, Fear, or Ethics

Interestingly, this link between lower literacy and higher receptivity persists even though people with lower AI literacy are more likely to view AI as less capable, less ethical, and even a bit scary. Their openness to AI seems to stem from their sense of wonder about what it can do, despite these perceived drawbacks.

This finding offers new insights into why people respond so differently to emerging technologies. Some studies suggest consumers favour new tech, a phenomenon called “algorithm appreciation,” while others show skepticism, or “algorithm aversion.” Our research points to perceptions of AI’s “magicalness” as a key factor shaping these reactions.

These insights pose a challenge for policymakers and educators. Efforts to boost AI literacy might unintentionally dampen people’s enthusiasm for using AI by making it seem less magical. This creates a tricky balance between helping people understand AI and keeping them open to its adoption.

To make the most of AI’s potential, businesses, educators and policymakers need to strike this balance. By understanding how perceptions of “magicalness” shape people’s openness to AI, we can help develop and deploy new AI-based products and services that take the way people view AI into account, and help them understand the benefits and risks of AI.

And ideally, this will happen without causing a loss of the awe that inspires many people to embrace this new technology.

[embodiedfutures]

Trans Reads is an ambitious project created by and for transgender people to openly access writing related to our communities. We believe education should be free and writing shouldn’t be behind a paywall. Transreads.org provides the opportunity to access, discuss, and distribute texts for free.

If you’re looking for books, chapters, texts, essays, or articles by, for, or about people who transverse or transcend western gender norms, you’re in the right place!

Trans Reads was formed through the work, consulting, and creativity of an anonymous group of trans people of various genders and races around the U.S. involved in organizing, academia, and trans liberation efforts. Trans Reads was launched in 2019 following increasing violence against trans people alongside the lack of accessible resources for trans people to learn about our own community.

There is a serious barrier for most trans people accessing content from our community. Trans people on average have less disposable income, time to read and purchase literature, and knowledge of the available texts. We created Trans Reads to address this problem directly. We offer the largest collection of free trans texts on the internet.

Get Involved:

Trans Reads is almost entirely generated through user content. By uploading, you can help a trans teen in a rural area learn about other girls like her. You could help a trans student who can’t afford a textbook easily pass their class. You can even share your own writing with the world on an easy-to-use platform exclusively for trans content. You can help grow our collection on our upload page. If you are interested in helping us upload texts for our collection, you can reach out on our contact page.

Ethics:

We are faced with the common ethical question about hurting the sales of trans authors. However, the largest ever study on piracy actually found that the piracy of copyrighted books, music, video games, and movies has no effect on sales. In the case of video games, piracy actually helped sales. As far back as 2002, we can see piracy boosting sales of media. Trans Reads strongly encourages you to purchase the books that you enjoy here or find other ways to support the author.

Academic authors rarely – if ever – see income from sales of their books, articles, or chapters. Most want to remove the paywalls withholding their content. Trans Reads is open to collaborating with authors, publishers, and journals on making this a possibility through our website.

History:

In 2014, Leslie Feinberg published the 20th-anniversary edition of Stone Butch Blues, one of the most influential works of transgender literature. The novel was a way for trans, gender nonconforming, and queer people to realize ourselves. It told us we aren’t alone. However, when the publisher went bankrupt, Leslie had to struggle to regain ownership over hir own novel.

“I had to work to recover my rights to Stone Butch Blues. When the first publisher went into Chapter 11 court, I had to spend thousands of dollars of my wages on legal fees to recover the right to this novel… While very ill in Spring 2012, I recovered my rights again.”

Ze didn’t want the book to be released as a film adaptation exploiting hir story for straight fantasies. Ze also used the opportunity to make the book more accessible. First editions shot up into hundreds of dollars. The least expensive print versions are still over $30 on Amazon. This simply isn’t affordable to most queer and trans people. The fight ended with Leslie publishing hir novel on hir website as a PDF, a strategy of reclaiming transgender narratives from greedy publishes by collective ownership of the text.

Trans Reads is dedicated to the memory of Leslie and all those who feel alone. Most individuals don’t have institutional access and cannot afford to pay for texts. Transreads.org allows visitors to effortlessly read texts by, for, or related to trans people online for free as PDFs. Trans Reads is the space where anyone can easily discuss, add, or download trans content.

This project is intended to foster discussion around the current state of learning. We refuse paywalls and withholding education. Trans Reads provides the opportunity to access, discuss, and distribute texts related to our community on its website in a matter of seconds.

Knowledge, learning, and community must be de-commodified for our collective liberation. Take it from Leslie:

“And on the day those paper deeds of ownership are torn up, it won’t matter about protecting Stone Butch Blues anymore from commercial exploitation.”

Authors shouldn’t live in fear of their work being exploited or inaccessible. Trans Reads is just one small part of trans autonomy from corporate publishers. However, it is a necessary step toward engaging with our radical history, politics, and futures.

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[nishithedevil]

Alright hi, this is my first time actually publishing a fanfic on here. Hope you guys like it. Tell me if you guys want a part 2 of this or any other ideas i should write

Capital Prince and District Princess

Lucy Gray x capital gn reader

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

so basically Corio gets Jessup Diggs and the reader gets Lucy Gray as their tribute. I've been sitting on this idea ever since i saw the movie on the premier, and ig here we are finally.

My brother, Corio and I sit down next to each other as the professor starts assigning student mentors to their district tributes.

"I hate this, Corio. This feels unbearable." I whisper to him as he nudges his my knee with his for a bit of silent comfort.

As the professor reaches district 11 without uttering my name, a breath of relief almost escapes me. However, the respite is short-lived when he announces Corio's name for the boy from district 12, and then...

"And last but not least, Y/N Snow will mentor Lucy Gray Baird from district 12. That is all"

At that moment I freeze and looked up at the tiny screen, seeing Lucy Gray Baird slowly walk up to the stage. Her decision to place a snake in that girl's dress caught everyone off guard, and I abruptly rose from my seat in astonishment. She was definitively one hell of a performer, singing and bowing dramatically before being taken away. A hushed stillness enveloped the entire room. What had they entangled me in?

The professor folds the paper up, removes his glasses and goes to leave the room, muttering good luck to us. After him, I bolted out of the room and settled on the stairs outside. Corio follows, approaching quietly, and places a comforting hand on my back.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I didn't know they would pick you as a mentor to one of the tributes. I mean at least our tributes are both from the same district, that could be fun" he remarks, giving my back a reassuring pat before rising to his feet.

"C'mon, grandma's probably prepared dinner for us" he urges, descending the stairs at a leisurely pace. I hesitate for a moment, then quickly stand up to follow him, concerned he might leave me alone even for a brief moment.

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

Uncertain of what course to take, I opt to go and welcome my tribute. I dress myself in a tasteful yet not overly extravagant manner, even securing a rose. It might seem foolish given the circumstances, but the anxiety is too overwhelming to do otherwise.

I arrive at the train station and wait with the peacekeepers. A few minutes after later the train arrived and the peacekeepers opened the train doors one by one, even taking some tributes by force when they didn't want to come out. All of them who weren't too distracted with that were glowering at me, like they were ready to jump me. I patiently looked around for my tribute, and right when I turned around I saw Corio's tribute step out of the train and extend his hand. A tiny hand grabbed it and out came Lucy Gray. She silently thanked him and straightened her very colorful dress before glancing around. Her eyes landed on me and I stiffened, not knowing what to do. She approached, studying me with a slight tilt of her head. For some inexplicable reason, I found that gesture to be rather adorable.

I composed myself, clearing my throat before speaking. "Um, hi. Hello, I'm Y/N Snow. I'm your mentor, Lucy Gray Baird." I manage to say. Extending my hand, to present her with the rose.

"Uhm, this is for you, as a warm welcome to the capital. Despite the circumstances." I nervously rub my hand against my neck.

She maintains her gaze on me, then unexpectedly seizes my wrist, drawing me closer.

Before I could say anything, she finally speaks "Are you supposed to be here? Since I don't see any other mentors here" She asks as she lets go of my wrist and takes the flower, putting it in her hair.

A warmth rushes to my face, much to my frustration.

"Uh no, I suppose not. But I wanted to meet you formally and introduce myself. I want to get to you know more, that's all" I explain, clearing my throat once again, the warmth lingering despite the station's breeze.

By this point Lucy Gray has been standing pretty close to me, close enough that if I took one step closer we'd be basically hugging. She wasn't very tall, just below my chin, which meant something considering I'm not particularly tall either. Up close, I noticed the softness of her skin and observed that, despite the initial appearance of messiness, her hair was neatly taken care of. The scent of flowers, a mix of vanilla and floral notes, wafted from her.

She sizes me up with a thoughtful hum before a Peacekeeper abruptly grabs both her and Corio's tribute, escorting them forcefully towards a waiting van. Despite my protests, my cries fell on deaf ears. In a somewhat foolish move, I decide to follow them, uncertain of any better course of action.

I wait for the peacekeepers to turn their back and I slip inside the van right before they close the doors. I breathe out, desperately trying to calm down. When I do I turn around and see all the tributes looking at me. We stare at each other before a few of them sit up and fling themselves at me. I'm forcefully slammed against the van wall, feeling the oppressive weight of an arm on my neck. Meanwhile, another produces a knife from some hidden pocket, escalating and leaving me in a state of heightened vulnerability.

I struggle until I hear a voice speak up from beside me. "Stop rough-housin' my mentor. It's not their fault they're better than your mentors and came to greet me"

Our eyes shift to her and then back to each other, a moment of shared uncertainty. Eventually, they release their grip on me, and I instinctively crouch down, rubbing my neck and wheezing as I breath out a breathy thank you. Lucy Gray only pats my back in a comforting gesture as the tense situation begins to ease.

Abruptly, the van comes to a halt, prompting us to exchange glances. The door swings open, and the van tilts, causing everyone to tumble. I desperately grasp for something to hold onto, with Lucy Gray attempting to secure my foot, but our efforts prove futile. We all land on the grass, and fortunately, my fall is somewhat cushioned. I groan and begin to lift myself off, when I open my eyes and see that I'm on top of Lucy Gray. I blush furiously as I realize the position we're in.

I hear her groan and watch as she attempts to sit up, successfully doing so, freezing me in place. As she opens her eyes, a realization sets in – our noses are barely touching. We're so close that I can feel her breath on my lips. My face flushes with embarrassment, and she smirks at the proximity before smoothly sliding away and standing up. Patting her dress to rid it of as much dirt as possible, she extends her hand for me to stand up. Reluctantly, I look up at her, then to the side, and begrudgingly take her hand to stand up, patting myself down as well.

While fixing my hair, I glance around and suddenly recognize our surroundings. We're in a zoo cage. Further away, a reporter and two cameras are set up, with a small crowd of spectators observing us. The realization of being on display in such an unusual setting adds another layer of bewilderment to the already strange situation. It hurt my heart, how they treat these people as actual animals just for being less fortunate. Considering my family, I'm used to this kinds of stuff and know my way around these reporters, so I turn to Lucy Gray.

"Listen, I want to help you win this, and after the stunt you pulled in the districts, everyone wants to hear you sing. I don't want to force you, but the more the public likes you, the more sponsors you'd get. And the more sponsors you have, the more chances you have at winning." I turn to look at her, and she wears a cute expression, biting her lower lip as she contemplates the situation for a few seconds. After some thought, she reaches a conclusion. Without hesitation, she grabs my hand and says, "Let's give them a show, then."

I smile and walk up to the reporters with Lucy Gray in hand. "Oh and what's this? Is this one of our student mentors? with their tribute? And what pray tell are they doing inside with the tributes?"

The cameras turn towards us, the reporter pointing the microphone towards us.

With confidence, I step forward and declare, "My name is Y/N Snow. This is my tribute, Lucy Gray Baird, the songbird from District 12. I pledge to do everything in my power to ensure her victory."

"Ooh, very enthusiastic, even after the stunt she pulled in her district." He says before being interrupted by me.

"Hey kids, come here, come and hear Lucy Gray's singing." I wave over the few kids around the cage.

They rush over, and Lucy, catching my glance, crouches down and begins to sing to them. The cameras focus on her, and the reporter adjusts the microphone, making a comment that I can't quite catch. The impromptu performance captures the attention of the onlookers and the media, turning the unexpected situation into a unique and captivating display.

Hearing her voice in person was even more magical, and it was so beautiful, so delicate. I was mesmerized.

Reality snaps back as Lucy stops singing, and the reporter directs the peacekeepers to remove me. Before they escort me away, Lucy Gray grips my arms, pleading with me to bring her food the next time I return. A smile creeps across my face, reassured by the trust she places in me. She desperately clings to me, whispering those pleas, and I lean in, whispering, "Don't you worry about anything, Lucy Gray." The peacekeepers then lift me away, but my gaze remains fixed on her. In that moment, a determination sets in as I begin to formulate a plan to genuinely help her win and navigate through this chaotic ordeal.

[beantoeboxstories]

Peer Review (FF7 Fic)

Dear Mr. Hojo,

I would like to thank you for submitting your study, "How Much Mako Before It Croaks?" to the Gaia Journal of Biological Science for publication. I would also like to extend my deepest condolences. I truly hope that your university can swiftly locate your missing classmates soon and I cannot imagine how difficult things must be right now. Unfortunately, I must inform you that we are unable to consider your paper for publication at this time. Though I applaud your ambition I'm afraid there are several issues with your submission that render it ineligible for further peer review.

Firstly, your hypothesis. Or rather, the lack of one. You appear to have simply written "Inject frogs with mako until they explode." Mr. Hojo, this is not a hypothesis. It is a foregone conclusion. Secondly, your sample size is three subjects with no control group. Even if you did have a properly structured hypothesis I very much doubt you could prove or disprove anything with so paltry a sample size. Additionally, although you seem to value, in your words, "beautiful data" you aren't exactly clear about what it is you are measuring, either. You seem to think of "data" as some kind of abstract concept, a magical buzzword far removed from any actual math. An no, marking the number of extra limbs your subjects may have sprouted does not count.

Also, I assure you that sending the last living sample along with your paper was quite unnecessary. Please do think upon the mess involved with shipping such a sample the next time you are tempted to apply and, for all our sakes, reconsider. It was our administrative assistant who had the pleasure of opening your package, as she does with all our mail, and the janitorial staff was quite peeved with us over both the mess made of the box itself and the way she subsequently lost her lunch.

We received several letters of resignation the very next day, hers included. So please, do us a service and keep our hiring budget in mind next time you apply for publication?

Kind regards,

Dr. Stephen P. Wilworth,

Editor for the Gaia Journal of Biological Science

P.S. You could have at least included air holes.

Dear Dr. Hojo,

I confess that I am surprised to hear from you so soon after your last endeavor. Congratulations are certainly in order. Not only have you earned your doctorate, but to earn a position under such an esteemed scientist as Professor Ghast!

As to the matter of your submission, please forgive me. I have read it over and though the methodology is much improved I'm afraid it feels a little, shall we say, incomplete. In fact, I recall running into dear Ghast at a conference naught but a month or two ago and, wouldn't you know, he also mentioned this very same JENOVA specimen outlined in your paper. Although I do find his claims of it being an Ancient dubious at best. He is an excellent researcher but perhaps a bit prone to flights of fancy. Well, there is no shame in having one's hypothesis disproved. That is, after all, the way of science.

Perhaps you could help me with a hypothesis of my own? You see, although I know for a fact that you are working under Professor Ghast on this JENOVA project I do not see his name, nor those of any other collaborators, credited within your paper. Maybe you can guess at the hypothesis I have come up with? But no, surely a newly minted PHD such as yourself wouldn't be so crass. You have a smart head on your shoulders and graduated at the top of your class, so I can only assume that there has been some mistake. Especially since Ghast told me himself that he did not plan to speak much about the project, nor publish anything, for "security reasons."

So, then, let us say that this little mistake never happened, shall we? Far be it for me to cut short such a promising future before it even buds.

Kind regards,

Dr. Stephen P. Wilworth,

Editor for the Gaia Journal of Biological Science

Dear Dr. Hojo,

I found your last letter to be frightfully unprofessional. There was no need to level such insults at myself nor the nighttime pursuits of my dear, departed mother. So you can imagine my surprise when I found a new manila envelope on my desk this morning with your name scrawled on the return address. I honestly thought that you had given up on submitting to our illustrious publication in light of our last few tete-a-tetes.

Let it never be said that I give up easily. No, I girded every milliliter of my resolve and dutifully read through your new masterpiece despite my misgivings. The result?

Sir. These are crimes.

Actual crimes.

I admit that when you first said that you were infusing an foetus in vivo I thought to myself, "Ah, good old Dr. Hojo has returned to his roots! Smashing incompatible things together with the wild abandon of a five year old!" And I was relieved, for at least you were predictable.

It was only when I got to the interview with the mother that I realized you meant that you were experimenting on a human foetus. Apologies for this egregious oversight, for many foeti are difficult to distinguish in the early stages of development. My mistake.

I have directed my staff to contact your employer Mr. Shinra, Professor Ghast, and any and all authorities that they can think of. With luck, this letter will not even reach you as you will already be languishing within the darkest, most hellish cell that Shinra may possess.

Regards,

Dr. Stephen P. Wilworth,

Editor for the Gaia Journal of Biological Science

Dear Dr. Hojo,

How are you? Or rather, how are you not in prison? Did my letters never reach Mr. Shinra, or is the man as ethically bankrupt as yourself? It is strange, though, that I have not heard from Professor Ghast. I know him to be an upstanding man of the finest character.

I have lost another administrative assistant. She took one look at the stains on the butcher paper enclosing your most recent work and quit on the spot. She was, perhaps, the smartest of us here in the office for doing so and I envy her such wisdom. I admit that I cannot turn away from your macabre studies. To do so feels like I would be turning a blind eye to an atrocity.

The photos you included are vile. I have not been able to eat or sleep since I first laid eyes on them. You killed this man, didn't you. But then are the pictures out of order? He begins as a corpse, yet the ones further on show him moving, screaming, twisting. Your paper does not clear this up. It keeps skipping around and appears to be interspersed with what I can only describe as mysanthropic ravings.

I once believed there was a natural justice in this world, you know, but by your hands you have revealed that to be a fiction. Well, I may have no legal authority but I can promise you one thing: your papers will never be published. But don't worry, you will most certainly be known. I will make it my personal mission to ensure that every journal on Gaia knows of your sickness. You will become an exile from the halls of learning, a persona non grata in the eyes of science save as a cautionary tale for med students. We will give you what you want in the worst possible way.

Regards,

Dr. Stephen P. Wilworth,

Editor for the Gaia Journal of Biological Science

Welcome, readers, to the new Shinra Electric Company Journal of Science, formerly the Gaia Journal of Biological Science! Do not worry, although this journal may have a new name you can expect the same caliber of standards as always. Nothing will change in that regard!

All this means is that we have a few more resources at our disposal, which will include not only higher quality content but also a faster publication schedule! Starting now the SECJS will be publishing weekly, not monthly.

We have a very special surprise for you for this first issue. Our very own, newly-appointed Director of Research and Development, Professor Hojo, has graced us with one of his latest studies on mako-stone brain implants in project "SPW." So stay tuned! We think you will find it well worth it.

Dr. Kratus Fine

Editor for the Shinra Electric Company Journal of Science

[definitelynotshouting]

fic writer interview!

shamelessly yoinking from @karliahs bc this looks fun as hell to do :]

How many works do you have on AO3?

32 fics total, between my main and rough draft pseud!! which feels like a really small amount, honestly-- i think my private WIPs list is MUCH higher 😂😂😂😂 if we're counting my very first (and very abandoned) ao3 acct too, then that number is bumped up to 35!!

What's your total AO3 word count?

163,211, and a good 65k of that was written this year somehow??? according to my statistics ._. lowkey crazy to think about

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

paid for it with all of my blood (BNHA | 8,452)

at times so self destructive (BNHA | 4,554)

lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart) (HC/LIFE | 3,618)

or we can just have conversation (MSA | 1,834)

the art of rawgabbitry (BNHA | 1,609)

if youve been following me since my bnha fics in 2018 you deserve a veteran's discount

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i used to answer every single comment i got, honestly, unless it came by years after i posted it-- the only reason i dont as much anymore is because it gets REALLY overwhelming for me to respond to everyone after the initial barrage 😅😅 the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak etc etc. but i do read every comment and appreciate them SO SO MUCH, and whenever i find one particularly moving or want to just reassure people im still working on something i'll respond to those :]

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

not counting the wips that just never got finished and left off before their main shit could resolve, id say at times so self destructive (BNHA)-- i mean i LITERALLY ended it with izuku potentially dying 😭😭😭😭

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

tbh i dont think i write happy endings so much as i write hopeful, bittersweet, or open-ended ones-- i tend to like catharsis more than fluff when it comes down to it. but out of my fluff fics i think honey it's starting to storm (HC) is one of the genuinely sweetest ive written. my runner-ups on that would probably be when the smoke does finally pass (TMA) and or we could just have conversation (MSA) :]

Do you write crossovers?

not typically, and ive never published any, but i am definitely not immune to them 😂😂😂😂 i think my most niche crossover ive actually written (never to see the light of day) was a Nine Lives of Chloe King and Supernatural fic that was the definition of self-indulgent rot. only a little less niche than that was a Mortal Instruments and Supernatural crossover (theres a running theme here lol) lying in snippets on an ancient google doc in my oldest gmail acct. reread that one recently and its shockingly coherent for being written in like. 2016. id even call it decent (though theres a lot id change up if i were writing it now)

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

idk if it'd be considered hate but once i wrote a fic inspired by someone else's when i was very new to ao3, let them know (i didnt know about the "inspired by" option back then), and they got mad at me in my comments section because in their words, "its better than mine" 😭😭😭😭💥💥💥💥💥💥

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

YOU COULD SAY THAT

as for what kind, honestly whatever strikes my fancy-- usually character/relationship studies, or just a fun focus on character intimacy. love 2 be asexual<3 love 2 write asexual sex<3

i had a discussion with my qpp recently about how in all honesty the smut i write is pretty tame, its just the character emotions written behind it that makes it feel a bit deranged. smth smth scarian is a chemical explosion. u understand

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge!!!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeppers!! the art of rawgabbitry (BNHA) received a translation to Russian, which i always found a bit funny because rawgabbitry is. one of my least favorite works ive ever written, if only for the type of comments it tended to receive back in the day 😭😭😭😭

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

ive never managed it honestly-- i get a bit precious about my process, which can make it hard to collaborate on that level. but its something ive always wanted to grow enough as a writer to try :]

What's your all-time favorite ship?

not so much of a singular OTP type of guy as i have favorite pairings per fandom im in-- that being said rn its scarian :P

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

pretty much all of my dsmp wips honestly. i may surprise myself someday, but for now i just have zero urge to actually finish any of them

What are your writing strengths?

like my pal karliahs im gonna rip these from the comments ive received 😅😅😅 but id definitely say imagery is my strongest skill!! i have a very strong imagination, and tend to see fic scenes as movie scenes in my head which i then transcribe into written format. id like to say im also really skilled at characterization and realistic dialogue that captures character voices very well!! and frankly i just love emotional realism so much i cant NOT write it, its always leaking into everything i do

What are your writing weaknesses?

i tend to get a little too funky and abstract with my descriptions sometimes-- that can work for some scenes, but grounding everything so that it feels more real and makes actual sense to the reader is something i often have to do on the second, third, and final passes

also to every person who has to crack open a thesaurus to understand what i write, i am so fucking sorry😭💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

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

no thoughts beyond if its not a language you're proficient in you should probably get that checked over by a native speaker, just in case :P

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

fairy tail..... ff.net was a dark place

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

crying sobbing wailing as i desperately beg my brain to start writing that post-canon siffrin and odile relationship study. unfortunately i dont think i can have more than one longfic on my docket at a time so it shrimply must wait

What's your favorite fic you've written?

to the surprise of absolutely nobody, i'd have say lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart) (HC/LIFE) :]

No obligation, but im tagging: @raichett, @kayawolfhorse, @boonbeenblade, @sillyfairygarden, and @grimfey !!! And anyone else who wants to do this ofc :]]]❤️❤️❤️❤️

[never-alonecom]

(Here is a request for @cinnamon-phrog! The first draft of this got published by accident and I panicked so I deleted it and it got eaten with the ask as well, I'm very sorry! D": especially since this is so short aaaghh )

" Cuddling. "

You...don't exactly remember how you got here.

One day you woke up in a bed that wasn't yours, in a room that was not of your own either. Even if they were new places, unfamiliar spaces, you don't remember how your true place looked like either.

As hard as you worked, it would always be the same. Blank memories. You don't remember your friends, hometown, your family, or if you even had one. Nothing could come across your mind when it came to you being....well, you.

Only your name. Your one and only name. There was nothing you remembered, not even your age. Though, you knew you were an adult, for sure. You didn't know your second name, your nationality, not even your hobbies or studies. Everything was wiped out of your head, turning it all into very faint, barely comprehensible memories, all blurry and silent, so you could only see few scenes of something that....to be honest, didn't even give you a clue. Everything, but your name.

It was all your brain could utter out of its insides. A name, a few letters that described nothing of your life, but only a small sparkle of your identity. It was enough. So you think. At least it was better than being called "the new fourth one".

Ah, yes. You weren't alone on this, either. Fortunately (and, in some cases, unfortunately.) there were three more guys living with you. Great.

Apparently, they lived here way before you came, which makes you feel like an odd one in the place. As if you were intruding into a private space you seriously shouldn't be on. Even so, they let you stay...reluctantly. None of them was fully trusting of you, and you understood. You would also freak out if some stranger appeared out of nowhere. Though, the way they reacted to you appearing suddenly wasn't as surprising as when you told them you were confused and lost.

They even acted as if it was a normal occurrence for the three, for someone to suddenly appear in their house. And maybe, it really was a normal occurrence.

When you presented yourself with only your name, they didn't seem to understand it. They said your name should be something like "(f/c) girl" or "normal girl". The moment you asked why, they said that's how they called each other. Yellow guy, Duck, Red guy...so they didn't even have proper names...? They sounded more like titles or even nicknames. You tried to tell them that, but they only looked weirdly at you. Duck even got slightly offended.

What a strange place to live on, truly...and what weird people to live with.

....

The reflection of your face on the mirror was slightly clouded by the fog. You lifted your hand to clear it away, now seeing yourself clearly on the glass, your eyes scanning around your skin, your expression. After taking a shower and changing into cleaner clothing, your view directs itself to the small cut on your face.

Another thing you learned was the presence of these...objects or animals. They would come by, sing a song, maybe even kill you while they were at it, and leave. All of them were different, new voices, new appearance, new lessons. Yet, they all did the same thing.

Teach you about something. No matter if it was an actual subject, or just something you already knew about, they would shut you down and continue to sing. This time, a teacher accidentally slashed your cheek with a sharp pencil, a fly's breath away from hitting your eye. Nothing really happened, they "apologized" by giving you a pound. As soon as the lesson finished, you went upstairs into the bathroom to heal your cut. It's wasn't big, but deep enough to take out blood.

Back to the real thing, you grabbed a small band aid from the medkit that laid open on the sink, opening it. Just as you were about to place it on your wound, a soft knocking on the door stopped you.

— (Y/n)? Are you there?

You recognized that voice well. Letting out a soft hum from your mouth, the door opened slightly. Yellow guy covered his eyes in case you were doing something else, although when he saw you were just looking at yourself in the mirror, he took his hand away. Yellow was...strange, like the other two. Although he was undeniably the nicest one around the house. Yellow would worry, he'd ask you if you were alright, if you wanted to go and note things on the clipboard, or if you wanted to spend time together.

The only thing is that Yellow would be quite sensitive to what others told him. Any insult he was told would be enough to make him look down and get quiet, no matter if it was a harsh or light attack, he'd feel bad about it and repeat it, convincing himself it was true. Some topics would also trigger him, like the direct mention of love or marriage would make him start to tremble. Even so, you tried to make him feel comfortable and safe, allowing Yellow to express himself and find comfort in your presence.

This would happen with all of the three, actually...

— Yes, Yellow?

You spoke first, turning to look back at him. Your hand still held the band aid you were about to use, softly grasping it.

The male opened the door fully, looking up at you confusedly. It seemed like he forgot what he was going to say, mumbling things under his breath that you could barely hear.

— I- Uh, umh...do you want to come down? Our show is about to start.

Yellow nervously let his hand fall from the knob, his eyes glued on you while he waited for an answer.

— ...Sure thing, let's go now.

At the response, Yellow nodded and ran back downstairs, his excitement made you blush, giggling gently before you yourself got out of the bathroom, walking by the path he went through. As you went downstairs and into the living room, you found Yellow already sitting on his chair, waving at you with a smile. Alongside him, Duck and Red guy were in their respective seats as well. Duck was reading the newspaper, while Red guy was holding a controller on his hand, looking through the channels.

The red colored male shifted his eyes to you, seeming to notice your presence standing there.

— Oh, there you are. You were almost late.

Red guy was a calm, sort of quiet individual. He was not the one to get into fights or arguing that didn't include him, although you saw very few exceptions where he stood in or broke his quietness to yell as loud as possible. He was the tallest, and in your opinion, the one who had more control over the other two.

Red would keep his emotions bottled up or tied to not make anyone worry, minimizing everything that happened to him and sometimes being "jealous" over things that happened to others. Even so, you also tried to reassure him, telling him it was alright and to offer your help and trust. You never received a true answer that allowed you to know if he listened, but at least he trusted you enough to tell you his things.

— Sorry for that.

You responded, giving him a little smile as you walked in.

He sighed, his hand lifting up as he signaled for you to sit down on your own seat.

As you nodded and went overthe spot, the green duck put his newspapers down, following you with his eyes as you went.

— Mmh, took long enough.

Duck saw as you sat down, scanning your form for a few minutes. It was unnerving, and he was always like that. Duck was the type to examine things if he didn't see them right, and loudly speak his thoughts about it. He wanted to let everyone know what he was thinking, and sometimes hope they'd agree.

— What's that red line on your face?

He suddenly spoke, his voice out loud, making both Red and Yellow start looking at you too. At the sudden glances, you softly blushed again, embarrassed as you yourself had also forgotten of your cut.

— Uh? Oh it's..it's just a cut, nothing-

You lifted the small band aid on your hand, about to put it on by yourself until Duck interrupted you again.

— Let me see that.

He got up from his spot, walking over to you and snatching the bandage from your hand.

— You won't be able to put it properly. You're too stupid for that.

By his statement, you were about to protest and confront him about it, when he very carefully placed (practically slapped) the band aid on your cheek, as you let out a small whine by his harsh treatment.

— Hey- don't put it like that, it's gonna hurt her worse.

Red stepped in, seeing how the duck had so carelessly "healed" you. Yellow also saw the same, a hand placed on his mouth in slight worry.

— Well it's better than the red liquid! It's gonna stain her clothes and the floor, it's disgusting!

Duck responded back with a snarl, before he went to sit back down on his chair, grabbing the newspaper he had left to fall on the floor. You only sighed and sank into your chair, still gently blushing and placing a hand on the bandage, softly caressing it. Even by his aggression, it was accurately place over your wound. It was surprising, even for him.

— Do you have any other wounds?

You shifted your head to look at Red guy, hearing his voice ask you about it. A caring tone was tinted in his voice, as you let out a little chuckle.

— Not..not really. Just the face.

Your response seemed to satisfy him, as he hummed and turned his full attention back on the TV. The show had started, and now all four of you were solely focused on that.

.....

An hour has passed, the show had finally finished. Red guy let out a small sigh, a bit sad that it ended, but still satisfied after watching their favourite show. Soon enough, as Yellow guy stood up from his chair, he had noticed your quiet, now sleeping form on your seat. Seeing his reaction upon you, the other two looked as well, realizing you had fallen asleep mid program. Duck scoffed, standing up from his seat and attempting to shake you awake. The first try didn't budge you even an inch, so he tried again.

— Wake up. Stop pretending to ignore me.

The duck was getting more annoyed as you didn't seem to wake up, merely sitting down like a dead corpse on the couch. It was only when Red guy spoke that he gave his attention to him.

— Don- Don't wake her up. I'll get her to the bed.

— What? No, she has to do it on her own.

Red guy stood up from his chair, before slightly moving the shorter male away from your figure. He softly placed an arm under your legs and back, lifting you up into a bridal style. Holding you close to his chest, the male tried to make sure you were comfortable enough. Even if he wasn't that strong, he was attempting to use as much strenght as he had to carry you.

— She looks very pretty like that!

Yellow chimed in, standing next to Duck as he saw how Red guy was picking you up, your sleeping form nestling against the taller red mop.

— She does, but not that pretty. You're exaggerating.

— I guess that doesn't really matter, either way she's sleeping. Are you jealous?

Red guy began to walk out of the room with you on his arms, as Duck and Yellow followed closely, with the duck scoffing and starting to argue behind him. As they kept talking, Yellow saw your hand hanging in the air walking a bit closer to gently grab it, his smile coming back again as your palm was warm and comfy. His cheeks flushing dim shades of pink at the contact you provided.

Finally reaching upstairs, Yellow assisted to help, opening the door to your bedroom and entering inside with the other two. Red guy walked carefully, going to your bed and laying you down on top of the sheets. He grabbed the hem of an open blanket, sliding it up to cover all of your body until your neck. He patted your forehead a bit awkwardly, not really knowing what to do after, or how to show you affection.

— Can we do the- the cuddling?

Yellow guy suggested happily, standing next to your bed where you laid in slumber. Red guy and Duck looked at him strangely, as if the concept of cuddling was unfamiliar. Which, in reality, it actually was.

— Cuddling?

— Isn't that when you sleep on someone?

The two asked confusedly, exchanging glances with each other as they pondered over the thought.

— Yeah, I thought she might need it. It's a bit cold lately.

— We're in summer, aren't we? Or-

Red guy shushed the duck from speaking, before he thought for a few more minutes. His eyes looking down at your face, his own gaze unreadable.

— I guess it's...not a bad idea.

....

Your started to gain your consciousness again, opening your eyes to see a blur of the room you were in. Your room, exactly. As you tried to lift your hand to your eye in order to rub it, you felt both warmth and weight over your entire body, barely having space to move. Opening your eyes more clearly, you look around yourself, finding a quite...strange moment.

Red guy was laying on your left side, one of his hands under his head while the other was gently holding your shoulder, his soft snores filling the quiet room. On your right side was Duck, sprawled over the little space of bed he had with his mouth open, looking more like a dead body than a sleeping duck. Even so, one of his arms was on top of your torso, preventing you from moving. His grip on you was tightening hardly, although not enough to leave a bruise, just holding you tight enough to keep you down in place. And finally, laying on top of you and nuzzling close, Yellow hugged you closely, his face buried near your neck. The short male was also soft and quiet with his snoring, although it was a bit more obvious he was doing such.

You sighed at the scenery, stopping your movements to allow them a good night rest. An obvious blush on your cheeks was present, and luckily none of them were awake to see it. Your hands, at least with the few movement you had, reached up to caress Yellow's blue hair, hugging his body as well to bring him more comfortably.

Maybe cuddling isn't a bad idea.

[kasienda]

Fanfiction Year In Review - 2024

I fill this out every year. It’s become a bit of a tradition for me. Allows me to reflect on everything that I’ve written and kinda think about where I want to go next. And I like it better from the ask games because I don’t have to wait for asks to come in and can compare my answers from one year to the next. ^_^

1 List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished:

Rings True - One Shot - Love Square - Senti and Identity Reveal

Not Part of the Plan - Multichapter - Love Square Mixtape - Series of five Adrino one shots

Celebrity Status - Multichapter - Ladrien

Bend the World Around It - Multichapter - Ladynoir

If You Could Go Back - Oneshot - Marinette Character Study

Is Chat Noir a Good Kisser? - Oneshot - Ladynoir

When You’re Hung Up On Your Best Friend - Oneshot - Adrino

Aftermath - Multichapter - Adrinette

Joke’s On Me - Multichapter - Adrino

2 Number of words written: 

Written: 139,613

Published: 122,191

Those numbers include nine one shots, five completed multi chapters. And another four multi chapter WIPs saw at least one update.

3 Your most popular fic:

It’s hard to say. Hasn’t felt like anything has been popular lately as the fandom has contracted. But some of the stuff I finished earlier in the year definitely had some traction at the time.  Maybe Aftermath? But half of its attention came before this year so it’s difficult to say.

4 Your personal fav:

Aftermath is definitely still my favorite. This is a story about healing after your life has fallen absolutely apart, and finding meaning in that struggle when you look back. In my opinion, this is the best thing I’ve written so far. 

Though I probably had the most fun writing the last few chapters of Celebrity Status or the first half of Joke’s On Me. 

5 Your fav scene:

I absolutely could not isolate a scene in Aftermath, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. I like too much of that fic to pick out one scene. Haha! So here’s a recent snippet from the opening scene Not Your Secret to Keep that I was really proud of:

“Ni—Carapace!” The sound of Ladybug’s yo-yo whizzed passed his ear.  Carapace didn’t slow.  Not until she landed right in front of him. “Please, I beg you,” and her eyes were actually glistening with tears. “Don’t tell him.”  “How can you stand to keep this from him?” he countered. “He deserves to have the memory of a good father.”  Nino’s expression darkened. She didn’t understand at all.  Ladybug probably had amazing parents. “You don’t get to decide how he remembers his father.”  He ducked around her. Or he tried.  She blocked his path, raising her yo-yo. His blood ran cold. “You’re going to fight me? Over keeping this secret that’s not even yours?! To protect fucking Monarch?!” Her face blanched - white as Gabriel’s last suit.  “Is that what it means to hold a miraculous now?” He ripped the bracelet off his wrist, instantly feeling the sky’s assault against his face once again, and shoved it into her chest.  “If it is, I quit!” She stood frozen, staring at his miraculous in her hands. 

And another Ladrien snippet from Celebrity Status:

He clearly meant for the kiss to be chaste - a sweet greeting to his quasi girlfriend. It was Ladybug who deepened it. If she was only going to get one more kiss, she needed it to be out of this world. She needed to feel it in her toes. She wanted him to always remember it.  Because kissing him one last time wasn’t risking anything they hadn’t already risked. Especially since no one could see them. They were in his room inside a mansion that had a three meter wall around it. As long as she didn’t keep visiting him regularly he should be safe. And so she lost herself in the dance of their tongues, the warmth of his breath, the safety of being held in his arms.  But it couldn’t last forever. When she pulled back, his eyes remained closed, his face was glowing in pure delight. He rested his forehead against hers.  “Wow, what did I do to earn such a kiss?” Her chest tightened in agony.  He must have seen something in her expression because his smile dissolved, and his hands tightened on her waist.  “What is it? What’s wrong?” “We can’t do this,” she said, tears building in her eyes.  “What? Why not?” he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.  “If anyone ever found out, Hawkmoth would never let you be.”  “No one has to find out,” he insisted.  “I shouldn’t be visiting you regularly like this at all. It’s too dangerous.”  He shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s worth the risk. You are worth the risk.”  She pulled out of his hold. “No! I’m not! Don’t you understand?! He could use you against me, and it would work! I would hand over everything for you.” He looked thunderstruck. “What?” he whispered.  “I love you,” she confessed. “I have for a long time. Longer than you realize. I wouldn’t be strong enough. We have to stop this.”  He stepped closer to her, smiling softly in that way that turned her insides to jelly. His hands cradled either side of her face.  “Yeah…” he breathed a centimeter from her face. “We should stop.” His lips were on hers once again.  They didn’t stop. 

6 A fic or scene that challenged you:

My biggest roadblock this year was completing Chapter Seven of Aftermath. I had so much of a block here that I actually finished drafting and editing chapter eight before I had finished even a rough draft of seven, and then I had a chapter ready to go and I had to just sit on it! I didn’t even have the OPTION of posting it. This has never ever happened in any of my works before because I hate editing, so why would I edit a chapter I can’t even post?!  Chapter Seven was hard because it involved a bunch of cultural research for Alya and Nino’s wedding. I wasn’t super pure in my adaptation of my research, but I wanted to represent at least a little bit of their actual cultures here. And whenever I’m writing for a cultural piece the writing gets a bit more technical (is that the right word?) and because I’m not writing from my own experience (but rather from research) it can feel a bit dry at first. It takes a ton of effort to make it come alive, which I very much want it to because that’s the whole point of representing other cultures!! This chapter was also really difficult to write because I had to balance Marinette’s headspace with the plot arc. There were so many instances where her mental state and the plot just clashed and I had to rewrite it over and over to stay true to both. And it was a huge challenge and I’m really happy with how it eventually turned out. And then the rest of the fic came together so easily!! (The next chapter was already done! Haha!)

7 A line of writing you’re proud of: 

Chat Noir was still there, but he stood opposite her. His lips - stained black with hate - curled into a snarl, and he lunged forward. She barely yanked her head back. His strike missed her by a fingernail’s width.  She wanted to cry. She hated seeing him like this. And she couldn’t bring herself to fight him.  She had loved him even then, hadn’t she?  She ducked under his arm, flipped him to the ground, and pressed her lips to his.  It had worked once. It might work again.  He relaxed underneath her, completely melted in her hold. And suddenly, he was kissing her back.  But that hadn’t happened.   The warmth of his lips sliding against hers felt familiar. Like it was a moment they had shared a hundred times before. When she pulled away, his lips were pink and stretched into a smile that reached his eyes.  Green eyes that were human instead of feline, that were not covered by a mask, that were shining with so much love.   His name bubbled on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t get it out past the tears that were constricting her throat. How had she never realized? For the first time in as long as she could remember, everything made sense, the stars had aligned and everything was right in the universe.  She kissed him again. She had never imagined she could even be this happy.  It almost didn’t feel real.  She startled awake, her eyes wet and that feeling of euphoria still alive in her heart and chest.

It’s those last two lines. The it didn’t feel real, leading into the waking up. This is from the last chapter of Aftermath.

8 A comment that touched you: 

I can never get this down to just one. But the comments that tend to mean the most to me are when something I wrote impacted someone in their daily life or when something I wrote made someone feel seen. So here’s a few examples of that.

9 Something that inspired your writing this year:

It feels sad to say this, but probably depression and loneliness more than anything else. 

10 Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

If it isn’t already obvious, I finished Aftermath!!! Been working on this one for four years!! 

And overall, this was a really good year for finishing things. I didn’t finish everything, but I brought the number of active WIPs down to HALF! I think part of that is that I haven’t had a lot of new ideas this year. I guess the silver lining to that is that it freed up a lot of writing time to finish things. 

11 Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

I very much need to finish my Adrino Secret Santa Fic! It’s only half done, but my brain is not cooperating these past few days. I haven’t felt able to focus in any kind of creative way. 

I really want to write an Alyanette multichapter fic this year!! I feel like I’ve written three confession scenes for them across multiple poly fics and they are always so sweet!! But I have a hard time with the build up before that, so I clearly need to practice some sapphic writing to expand my repertoire.

Feels like a longshot to say I want to finish Right Behind You, but I’m gonna say it anyway because last year I would not have believed I could finish Aftermath and that happened!

And I’m hoping to come up with some new ideas and start some new projects. 

12 Anyone you would like to thank?

@coffeebanana - As this fandom has gotten a lot smaller, I’m so grateful that you’re still around excitedly sharing snippets and squealing about mine at the drop of a hat. For every single time you beta-ed anything especially at the last minute. I appreciate you! 

@mila-beedoodling for pictures of flowers and berries, for always responding with kindness, making artwork, and lately, answering my questions about Spanish. 

@wehadabondingmoment - I really enjoy just chatting with you about your stories. We had some pretty good conversations. 

To both the Little Bug and the Adrino Servers for continuing to be excited about these blorbos and for keeping me from being totally isolated in this fandom that has gotten a lot smaller. 

The WIP Big Bang Event for giving me the motivation that comes with the promise of artwork and a deadline.

Happy New Year Everyone!!

[phannibal]

finished the fight the future novelization!! overall it was an extremely mid adaptation that did not take advantage of the change in medium to do anything interesting, but it was still a fun read and honestly some plot points were clearer than in the movie. liveblog and standout moments under the cut :3

immediately the narration feels like someone is describing something that’s happening on screen. this is not a good thing; a good adaptation is able to use the strengths of its medium to tell the story in a way that is compelling in and of itself (day of the doctor perfect example) (this is why screen -> book adaptations fall flat when using a different author, the book author has a lot of guesswork to do wrt POVs, motivations, and other internal character stuff) (but do I really want to read a book by chris carter)

wait this is awesome face blindness can’t affect me in the written word. wow turns out that one guy was two guys all along

y’know it’s almost not fair to criticize this book for being a clunky adaptation bc fight the future leans so hard into its own cinematography in a way that makes it irreplicable in text. god I want to write a dissertation comparing this to the dotd novelization with references to the other x files and target novelizations and comparing franchises and impact of same vs. different author of the same story. waves sadly at my nonexistent media studies degree

he comes into the initial hearing and her heart LIFTS. this is what i’m talking about use the medium to give us character insight!!!

oh no fucking way. author just used “who’s” when the correct word was “whose.” probably worst mistake I have ever seen in a published book

the dialogue in particular does not translate well to text. maybe there’s a way to make m&s’ opening back and forth just as iconic and characteristic in print, or mulder’s drunken exposition slash tagline just as comedic yet foreboding, but as is, they (and other standout lines) just fall so flat

they don’t even say that he’s peeing on the independence day poster 😑

did this author come from fanfiction or something bc the amount of “the younger man” I’m having to roll my eyes at is obscene

this is the biggest glimpse we get into any character’s thoughts so i’m holding it to my chest forever and ever

god so the 3am “what are you implying” “is that what you’d like me to do” feel WAY more loaded in text

also “she had been thinking exactly that” 🥺

TWICE. yeah i bet

I’m like 90% sure some lines of dialogue are slightly different like just meaningless word order choices but I’m not putting on the movie to confirm

no okay the above is definitely true. “the one thing in the world he can’t live without” is NOT the original line but goes just as hard

have to include this bc it is absolutely the most changed dialogue in the whole book. wish i could see into this author’s head

realizing for the first time that the guy that planted the bomb = the guy eavesdropping on mulder in the bar = the guy driving the ambulance because in a book you have to spell that type of thing out

i DID actually pull up the movie upon reading these lines bc i was like i knowww i would remember this. i wonder if the author was working off of the original script or something and this was part of that? or if she was really just allowed to freestyle

god so we know in the movie he just kind of jumps down a random ice hole after he initially falls through. here it’s specifically and clearly a vent because ig this author could not rationalize him choosing to jump down a random hole

long af image so click to read but INSANE insane emphasis on the cpr scene for no reason. like that lasts 2 seconds in the movie but is fully a page and a half here, thanks for that at least ms elizabeth hand

protectively :')

why is this exchange so neutered?? where is the passion? where is "some hollow personal cause of mine" and "i can't. i won't"?

that's all i got! i think these excerpts really demonstrate the shortcomings of a direct, no-frills screen-to-text translation. i can't help thinking that this book was meant to be just another thing to put on shelves and sell, as opposed to being born of a genuine desire to retell the story in a new way. like i said, still fun though, and enough new tidbits to make it worthwhile!

[nalyra-dreaming]

I was watching a YT video breaking down the trailer and the person mentioned that before the show, the online fandom was quite small. Is that true? And if so, what has it been like seeing it explode? The first fandom I ever got into was for a little Australian period detective show and it was so nice. It was very small and there was literally zero drama. I would imagine it would be annoying as hell to be in a nice little “coven” (if you will) enjoying all the many and varied canonical relationships within the series only for the show to open it up to people with zero media literacy screaming their fav ship is the only one true ship and this vampire character is a bad person while this other vampire is baby boi.

Well, to be frank, I wasn't "in" the VC fandom before the show, though I heard that while enduring it wasn't too big.

I had been, kinda, once upon a time. I had been around before Anne's wrath came down. (She literally had fanfictions removed, sites closed down, threatened to sue, etc etc). That was... back then. I used to be in forums, and mailing list before that. I still have fanfiction of 20 years back printed out.

Her coming down hard on the fandom threw me back, so to speak, and also reading the end of "Memnoch the Devil", which, at the time was meant to be the end to it all... broke my heart.

I stepped back from it then, for a while. You know, real life, playing WoW, studying, starting to work^^. Had a daughter :)

The love for it stayed though, I kept all my stuff.

When I heard about the show I wasn't overly impressed by the head shots (lol, I stand corrected, but I mean given Rolin's comments in the podcast at least I'm in good company^^), nor the shifts in the story that were published - because who could anticipated it being THIS?! :))))

And so I tuned in for Jacob Anderson, who I'd loved in GoT. And I was actually sold after the SDCC 2022 trailer. That trailer... hit it.

I cannot describe it.

And yes, from what I saw the fandom then exploded.

The changes to the narrative in the show however split what had already been there and what was coming in up a bit, let's put it that way. For ME this is an ingenious adaptation. They "get" it, imho. They focus on the important bits, and they dare. Just... brilliant.

For some the changes were reason to withdraw though.

It is a bit... annoying to see all the "ship wars" in this content, yes. But I get it, I've spoken about it the other day. I don't think "we" (as in most of the audience) are used to a show like this.

We are not used (anymore) to be challenged as much while watching, we are not used to a show daring to put its fingers into wounds like that. We are not used to a show going full mess wrt relationships.

We are not used to a show that dares, and does so on a level I have seldom seen.

I call this show the "show of the decade" and I stand by that. In quality and approach it is and will be.

But yeah... moralizing these characters... will fail *laughs*

They're all terrible. Killers, murderers.

I currently see none of the drama (if there is any?!), my timeline is utterly peaceful, and I do want it to stay that way. I've had my say on that. That subset can keep it.

I'm here for the brilliant mess that will be the upcoming seasons :)))

[sporesgalaxy]

Tumblr keeps crashing each time I send this so I gotta be quick: do have any tips on how to study biology (college is not an option atm)

Oh boy! I will do my best!

I've listed the basic irl resources for biological information first, followed by some online resources.

I've got a strong Animalia bias, so apologies that I don't have any botany-specific sites for you. 😔

I'm sure there's some stuff I'm forgetting. I'll add on to this if I think of anything!

If there's anything specific you need help finding a reliable biological resource for, let me know and I will try my best to help find you something!

•••

Finding primary sources (stuff written by the scientists who did the research [i.e. a journal article]) is always very good, but reliable secondary resources (someone else summarizing other people's research [i.e. Wikipedia page, book]) can be very valuable as well.

•••

Meatspace Resources

-

I would highly recommend checking to see if there is a Nature Park in your area! Nature parks often have volunteer programs and/or free educational opportunities. In my experience, naturalists are always very excited to meet new people interested in learning about local ecology!

-

There's also Zoos and Aquariums of course, although I know they cost money and are typically geared more towards kids. I'm lucky to live near some nice ones. Maybe check if there are any special programs happening at Zoos/Aquariums in your area (by checking their website[s]), where you might learn more than you would on a normal day trip.

-

Plus natural history museums, which usually have rotating exhibits so that you can keep learning new things when you come back! They also have more of an all-ages vibe than Zoos in my experience. Once again dependant on if there's one near you, and not free.

-

Last but not least: the local library, although obviously not every published book is a flawless resource. Still, might be interesting to poke around! There's usually some sort of digital search catalogue to make finding things easier. Libraries are fun :)

•••

Online Resources

-

Jstor is GREAT. Not all jstor articles are open access/free, but some are! And you can set a search filter to show you only things you can access.

One good way to find out what experts have written for other experts about biology: search a species name or biological concept or type of experimental study, etc. etc., in jstor's journal articles. I've linked a search for journal articles "I can access" containing the word "biology" as an example.

The website layout can feel a little obtuse at first but I think if you fiddle around with it a bit, it's not too bad to figure out? Feel free to kick my ass if I'm wrong djgjkeg

-

Wikipedia is actually a very good place to introduce yourself to a lot of biological concepts. I would recommend checking out some of the sources yourself if you can-- usually at least some of them are free, and that can introduce you to new free resources for learning more (today I discovered bugguide.net!). Often they will link you to jstor.

But biology-focused wiki pages have a pretty good track record for Correct Information in my experience. The only issue I've run into is there being too little information sometimes.

-

Pubmed is a really good resource to read biomedical scientific papers for free if that interests you at all! Reading scientific papers is a really important skill and I think you can pick up a lot just by diving in and googling words you don't know.

A well-designed experiment is replicable (that is, you can understand from the paper how they set things up to the point that you could do it yourself, given the resources). It's also important to pay attention to sample size. The more times you replicate any process in an experiment, the more likely you will be able to identify what the most common result really is, and why.

-

Fishbase is a website I was introduced to in my icthyology class to find info about different fish species :) It kind of just dumps all the info on you in a big text wall, but many pages include great details about life cycle and diet that might go unmentioned on wiki pages.

-

I've never used bugguide.net before today, but so far it seems solid and like it has a lot of good info. I assume it is similar to fishbase but for bugs

-

EDIT: FREE ONLINE TEXTBOOKS I FORGOT ABOUT!!!

I used both of these for university classes at some point. I didn't use them much, so there may be issues I don't know about.

In my experience though they were solid resources, if a little confusingly worded at times. Bouncing between the textbooks and wikipedia tended to help me.

[pinkcolormentality]

A (very basic, incomplete) timeline of the history of fanfiction

Got into fan studies like a month ago, and learning about how fanfiction has changed is definitely my favorite part. I should note that there were works you could classify as fanfiction as early as the eighteenth century, but I'm more interested in the evolution of modern fanfiction.

Beginning of fanfiction as we know it

1960s - 1970s - Women writing Star Trek fanzines basically invent fanfiction, and also the idea of having sex, which no one had thought to do before. Everyone say thank you women. The fandom term "slash" originates from early Kirk/Spock fanfiction. (Kirk SLASH Spock.)

1981 - Several women (because yes, they were also women) receive cease and desist letters from Maureen Garrett, director of the Official Star Wars Fan Club saying that "X-rated" fanfiction is strictly prohibited and that "the word has come down from George Lucas, himself, that STAR WARS pornography is unquestionably unacceptable." This managed to mostly deter people from writing Star Wars smut (until the Internet), an example of what Mel Stanfill calls successful "domestication" of a fanbase.

Fanfiction goes online

1990s - early 2000s - Fanfiction moves online. It is no longer necessary (or preferable) to create fanzines that are sent out to a mailing list - or traded at cons. Obviously people still make physical copies of zines and are still attending cons, but the internet makes available a plethora of free fan-made content. It also becomes harder (although as we shall see, not impossible) for companies to control what types of fanfiction get passed around.

Anne Rice and fair use (and why companies can basically do whatever they want)

2000 - Anne Rice, author of Interview With The Vampire, posts a message on her website stating that she disallows all fanfiction of her works. Several fanfiction writers receive cease and desist letters. The following year, fanfiction.net scrubs all fanfiction of her works from their site.

What Rice did would probably not have stood up to legal scrutiny, but that doesn't really matter. Fair use doesn't really mean shit because companies FREQUENTLY use language that exceeds their actual legal authority as a scare tactic. People don't know what constitutes fair use and even if they did, sites like YouTube (or like fanfiction.net) tend to side with the companies and IP owners. That means that a lot of what gets taken down is fair use but is stuff the IP owner finds objectionable, a la 1980s Lucasfilm. (See Mel Stanfill's Exploiting Fandom, chap. 4 for more about this)

Early mainstreaming of fanfiction: "And when everyone's a nerd...no one will be."

2006 - The infamous Harry Potter fanfiction "My Immortal" is posted on fanfiction.net. I originally thought about putting this here to be funny and cause you kind of have to, but I actually think the widespread ridicule it received is probably indicative of the fact that fanfiction was still seen as something weird and niche. (Yes, I'm aware this is not the only reason it's funny.)

2008 - Iron Man, the first movie of what would become the Marvel Cinematic Universe, hits theaters. I've seen people cite the MCU as the sole reason for the mainstreaming of nerd/geek culture. I think I have to agree, and with the mainstreaming of nerd/geek culture comes the mainstreaming of fanfiction.

2011 - Fifty Shades of Grey is published. The author, E. L. James, is open about the fact that her story started as Twilight fanfiction. This is one of the first (THE first?) books with mainstream success that is essentially published fanfiction.

Fanfiction goes mainstream?

2015ish to present: Is it weird to read or write fanfiction anymore? It doesn't really feel like it. The transformative works website Archive of Our Own has seen a steady increase in the number of visitors to the site every year since the 2010s. (And a lot of people, not just the weirdos, at least have some idea of what AO3 is.) It is no longer as taboo to turn your fanfiction into a published book. Which is remarkable, because as late as 2019, Mel Stanfill (to whom I owe my life) talks about how the ways in which women engage in fandom (fanfiction) are not profitable or career-advancing like the stuff male fans do (video game modding, amateur filmmaking). To me, it looks like that has changed. The fanfiction-turned-books that I've seen get the most snide laughs are After by Anna Todd (2014) and The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood (2021). But secure the bag regardless, ladies. We love to see a girlboss winning.

Further Reading (because obviously you're as invested as I am):

Fake Geek Girls: Fandom, Gender, and the Convergence Culture Industry by Suzanne Scott

Exploiting Fandom: How the Media Industry Seeks to Manipulate Fans by Mel Stanfill

Enterprising Women: Television Fandom and the Creation of Popular Myth by Camille Bacon-Smith

The Fan Fiction Studies Reader ed. Karen Hellokson and Kristina Busse

Fan Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet ed. Karen Hellokson and Kristina Busse

[babybluebanshee]

Things I've Had To Deal With As A City Librarian: I'm Just So Tired

Haven't done one of these in a while, and things have just been...they've been a time, let me tell you.

*We caught a guy hiding in one of the bathroom stalls after closing. We check the bathrooms to clean up any messes for the next day, and Julie knocked on the men's room door. No one answered, so she went in and checked the stalls. Didn't see any feet so she starts opening the doors. She gets to the handicap stall, and she tries to open it. It's locked. She mutters something about having to unlock it, and suddenly a voice from inside calls out, "Hey, I'm still in here." Julie nearly shrieks. The guy claims that his fly was stuck, but given the fact he didn't say anything when Julie came in and we couldn't see his feet under the stall door means he was probably crouched on the toilet, hoping we'd think the bathroom was empty and he could spend the night in the library.

*My coworker Allie did a cute little display in the kids area where you can write a letter to Curious George. She even made cardboard mailbox for it and put out a bunch of books and movies for people to check out. The amount of vandalism this thing has seen is unreal. One night a kid poked holes in the mailbox with a colored pencil. I was doing a walkthrough after a particularly rowdy family was in the kids area, only to discover that they have thrown everything on the display into the mailbox - the books, the movies, the postcards, the coloring materials, even one of the book stands. We spent about ten minutes fishing everything out.

*Speaking of displays, I did the Black History Month one this year. I worked on it for three months, and to be honest, I was very proud of it. It took up two tables, full of historical events and famous figures of black history. Needless to say, since black history is so damn expansive and my space was limited, a lot of people ended up getting left off (especially local people I'd never learned about). The amount of times people told me I left out a person they personally believed should be on it drove me to distraction. Two separate people told me I missed Kamala Harris (which I'll be kicking myself forever about). One woman asked me why I didn't redo the whole display to add one local figure she thought needed to be included. One woman asked me why she herself was not included one the poet's wall, because she was a published author. No, she was not kidding. I guess I should be thrilled that people were actually interacting with it, but at least a few people telling me I did a good job would have been fucking nice.

*To branch off from the black history month display - the city has an anti-discrimination policy when it comes to people reserving rooms for events. The only thing we explicitly do not allow is social events like parties and anyone attempting to sell something; everything else is fair game. This means we get a lot of obnoxious groups whose views we really, really do not agree with - homeschoolers, churches, conservative clubs, and, my personal favorite, the Sons of the Confederacy. Or as Rachel and I like to call them, The Sons of a Bunch of Loser Piss Babies. They had a meeting there during February, and Rachel was working that day. One of them, in his stupid little gray hat, was standing talking to someone...right next to my black history month display. Rachel told me she wanted to take a picture because the juxtaposition was...stark, to say the least. We're really not that surprised Failfuck McStank didn't notice the irony.

*We've had a guy coming in with his guitar and just...hanging out in the study rooms to play. We can't really do anything about it unless he's too loud or someone actively complains, but we're all kind of puzzled about the library being his first choice of places for a jam session.

*There's a pair of teenage girls that have been coming in for about four months now and their punk vibe is immaculate. The first time I ever saw them, one of them had a giant bleach blond mohawk, a leather jacket with studs, hot pink and black striped stockings, and the most badass combat boots I've ever seen. Her friend had a bleach blond buzzcut, a black jean jacket covered in patches, teal leggings, and red converse that were falling apart. Sherri stumbled on them chilling in the kids area, and noticed the buzzcut one was bent over something. She got closer and realized the kid was knitting a scarf. Mohawk comes in more often, and always has a thick book with her, just lounging in the chairs and quietly reading for a few hours. They're my second favorite patrons and hope they never change.

*A woman was interested in attended my classic book club meeting back in June. We were reading Fun Home by Alison Bechdel, so I gave her a copy. She didn't attend the meeting. She returned the book a few days later and said it was "gross". While she was there, she also picked up her inter library loan of a "romance" novel about a woman falling in love with her abusive stepbrother. I'm all for people reading whatever the fuck they want, but I also feel like if you're gonna read stepsibling porn, you don't get to call lesbian comics gross.

*Two women came in with a little boy who was absolutely bouncing off the walls. They did absolutely nothing to control him - one of them was busy talking to someone on her phone (on speaker till someone complained), the other was perusing the shelves - and the kid was just kind of running around being a nuisance. I was walking back from helping someone in the computer lab and saw the kid taking off his shirt. I told him he had to keep his shirt on, and that's when one of the women finally turned to me and said, "He wants to put his Spider-Man costume on." And I'm like, "Lady, that's great, but you're in a public space, not your living room. Have him change in the bathroom." Luckily they didn't hang around long after that, but fucking hell, the entitlement.

*A woman came in to fax a police report to her lawyer, and Sherri and I ended up being privy to the sordid tale of having her car stolen. She was out with a guy she met on Tinder, and they went to a bar in the next town over. They were getting ready to leave, but she wanted to have a cigarette, so they were standing by her car in the parking lot. Suddenly, three police cars come shooting up, right next to them. Turns out the dude she's with has a warrant out for his arrest. He panics, grabs her keys out of her hand, jumps in the car, and fucking peels away. He ended up crashing it into a ditch less than ten miles away, totaling it. She doesn't even know what warrant was for.

*It's very funny whenever I call anyone for reserve reminders or things like that, because people are so used to getting calls from robots and scammers that they're immensely suspicious any time they answer their phone. And it makes the absolute 180 they do into delighted toddlers, excited to get their books, that much funnier. The scenario usually goes like this:

Me: Hi, is this [insert name]?

Patron: *clearly doing the suspicious Fry face* Yeeeees...

Me: This is Blue, at the library! I was just calling to let you know you have a book on reserve ready for pick up!

Patron: *brightening instantly* OMG thank you! Oh, I'm so glad you called! You've made my day, you guys are wonderful!

Never fails to make me chuckle.

*The assistant librarian is in charge of a lot of the teen programs we do, and by far the most popular are her teen book boxes - the kids fill out a form of stuff they enjoy, and she puts together a box of three books, plus crafts and snacks, for them. On average, she does about twenty of them a month. However - because we are located in the heart of Conservative Brainrot Land, where a not insignificant portion of the population thinks if they're a good little conservative who hates what Fox News tells them to, Tucker Carlson will come give them the hug their dad never did - this has also given us great insight into the minds of ultra controlling parents who would encase their kids in wax if that could keep them from learning things they don't want them to. One particularly baffling example started with a mom asking that no "social justice" be included in the box. The next one asked for "no gender identity". This time? No inclusion. Like...I get why she put that. Because inclusivity = woke = liberal = the devil. But like...do these people hear themselves? Do they know what words mean? Also, I told the AL that she should just give the kid an empty box. She did not follow my advice.

*On the flip side of the crazy, controlling parent thing, y'all remember this family from a while ago? The one where the aunt came in and said Pretty Little Liars had opened a satanic portal that drove her niece to a mental hospital? Well, I'm happy to report that I think the mother of that girl might have had a face turn. The same kid just recently returned several books from the Anita Blake series (which are pretty mature as far as sexuality goes), and she's been in talks with the AL to volunteer for us, informing her that she doesn't know her schedule just yet because her mother is letting her start public school. I like to think the mom looked at that whole situation, took a long, hard look at herself in the mirror, and thought, "Ya know what? I don't think I want to be like this anymore. I think this is a problem." And ya know what? Good for her, and good for that girl. I hope it does them both a world of good.

[goodluckclove]

On Being Seen

I'll warn you in advance, friends and colleagues - I might not have quite an optimistic take on this one. In advance I'll say that I'm totally all right, there's no need to comfort or fawn or worry. It's just been a pretty crazy couple of days and it's sort of left me in a kind of perturbed state of mind.

I feel as if I've developed a reputation on Writeblr as someone strongly supportive of other writers through their struggles and successes, and I figure it might be useful to see that I speak as someone who has their fair share of doubts. Consider it a show of neurosis that supports me as your steadfast advocate in creative growth and potential.

I'll put it under a read more. It's nothing triggering I don't think, I'm just a little embarrassed to have it fully visible under what I still consider to be a relatively professional space. Or at least a space for me as a professional whose brand involves not being very professional.

Nevertheless.

I debated for a long time self-publishing Blind Trust. I went back and forth every so often for weeks, and my poor wife had to deal with the brunt of my strange excuses not to do it. It really came down to one big question, which was...why?

Why am I publishing this? And for money, no less? That's weird. Why would anybody support that? It wouldn't deter me from writing if I never published any of the Songbird Elegies. I'd still write them. I've been writing stories for almost 20 years that no one has ever read and no one will probably ever read.

Sure, I have the fantasies of relative cult notoriety. People making fanart of my characters and sharing weird memes about my plot points. Finding comfort in the words and stories I've created to comfort myself. When I was still considered schizoaffective my dad gave me a copy of Flow My Tears the Policeman Said by Philip K. Dick and said that he was "like us". If that happened to someone else with one of my books it would mean the world to me.

Then again, would it? Because in my actual, real, physical life I am terrible at taking praise. It's like trying to catch a ball from the other side of a brick wall. If you ever pass me on the street I'm guaranteed to be wearing soundproof headphones and blasting music to keep anyone from talking to me. You might catch my eye and I'll smile and nod, maybe toss a compliment your way, but if you try to have a conversation and I do not know you I will absolutely just keep walking. I can't do it.

I love people and I'm terrified of people. It's always been this way.

It's easier online. I mean it when I say that I'm open to anyone here just starting a conversation with me about anything. There's already the unspoken assumption that we're all already weird, so I don't have to think too hard about your motivations. But still, large amounts of praise and positive reinforcement make me deeply uncomfortable. I've been trying to work on that for years, but I find most advice on building self-worth deeply unhelpful.

It's not like I'd prefer hate. I think I'm just not used to being noticed either way.

This is the first time I've made an honest effort to put my work, and by proxy myself (all writers are brands now, says the publishing industry as a whole) on display online. And for the most part it's been great! I enjoy the connections I've made here. The promise of making more. There are so many skilled storytellers here that it gives me a lot of hope and excitement for the future of literature.

But it's weird. It's really weird.

Most of the time I see it as another social media client. I stand by the posts I make and do them for fun, but I also do them to maintain a presence and draw in more attention. I studied to do things like this for work before. I picked like three social media management tactics that I thought I could remember when I was 18 and just stuck by them. And then occasionally I go oh wait. This isn't some nonprofit. This isn't a start-up for tech assholes. This is me.

And that's weird.

It's not a massive following I have, but it's more than I've ever had before under my own personal and creative writing. I published short stories and articles, but I never heard anything from them. There are short stories I have on online journals that I genuinely do not know if anyone has read. Here, I see people like things and I'm like huh. I feel like a mummy or a ghoul. I do not understand what people are doing.

One part of my brain takes this information and says that it's probably proof that when I publish Blind Trust, some people will buy it. People have expressed interest already. Which means they're probably interested, I think. I post excerpts of my writing and people seem to enjoy it enough to click a button or leave a comment. That's cool. I don't get why it happens, but it's very cool and it makes me happy.

At the same time there's this undercurrent of paranoia. I don't get it. And I don't think I ever will. That's essentially been my only coping mechanism for publishing at this point - I don't know if it'll work, but I might as well try and if I do something will probably happen.

I know I'm a writer. At this point it would be ridiculous to say I wasn't. I'm a professional, working writer, and experienced enough to know that saying all that doesn't say much in terms of quality.

Am I a good writer? I don't really know what that means. I like Blind Trust. I'm reading it for the fourth time as I edit it again and I genuinely enjoy it. So someone who thinks like me and has similar tastes to myself might feel the same way. I don't really know who that person might be. Statistically I imagine they have to exist somewhere. And that there's at least a handful of them.

Imposter Syndrome is real and I don't think it ever goes away. I'd like to think that it's one of those things where you think about it less and less, and this is just the first night in maybe five months that I'm really thinking about it.

I'm not expecting to make a ton of money off my first book. In fact, I probably will be sick from anxiety with any purchase I get for the first year, because it means that someone spent human money on writing I am happy to just give them for free.

But this is going to be my job. I want this to be my job so I can spend more time doing it. Because I've dedicated so much time to doing all of this, it means I get to spend a lot of my day getting other writers to write even a little bit of their own stories. And that's so important to me.

I don't know. I don't really have a neat end to this. I'm forcing myself to actually follow through with posting it, and then to continue keeping it up even though it feels incredibly vulnerable to be, in my opinion, this self-indulgent and whiny. It's insecure. I'm still insecure. I'm in therapy and on medication and there's more shit I got to do in life.

Still, I'm telling myself that my version of being a Professional Writer is to showcase emotional pitfalls like this. Newer writers might know that you can sometimes have a night where you might not be in despair, per say, but certainly deep confusion, and then come back the next day and keep on working. I stand by what I mean when I say that the craft should not be entirely miserable. It is still maybe 25% inconvenient to me, and I am currently in that less-desirable quarter.

So what am I doing? Wife got us Jersey Mike's, so I had a yummy sandwich. Kafka is sitting on my calves, just behind my laptop monitor. I'm listening to my soul/funk playlist while Wife plays Hell Divers for the first time. Later we're going to play a board game.

But for now, I'm going to keep editing my goddamned novel.

Blind Trust out in June. Get ready people, because I'm not.

[tryan-a-bex]

Writing patterns meme

Rules: Share the opening of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

From this post by @dancinbutterfly https://www.tumblr.com/dancinbutterfly/735744268412534784?source=share

I'll mull about patterns here because I put the last two after the cut due to warnings. So, about half of them start with dialogue, which is how I started writing--a lot of dialogue, minimal else things. The other half start by getting inside someone's head--internal dialogue, basically, so not that different I guess. Also I try to start with something funny or at least interesting, to hook the reader? I don't know if it works.

Endless Family Trick or Treating

“It’s not a sphere!” argued Dream, swinging his jack-o’-lantern trick-or-treat bucket against the leg of his vampire costume. “It is a sphere!” insisted Desire, twirling the tail of their demon costume in their hand again. “I learned it in school and it’s round like a ball so it’s a sphere.”

2. Velma Meets the Family

Velma stared at the gently lapping water of the river, leaning her elbows on the railing. The rest of the gang was fast asleep in their motel, but she hadn’t been able to sleep so she’d come outside to think. The water sounds were restful, but her mind refused to stop whirling. 

3. Freddy the Robot Vacuum

It was amazing what a person could get used to. Hob had enjoyed his first robot vacuum. It was nice, and not a very difficult adjustment, to get used to the vacuuming being done automatically for him while he was out. The little phone app notifications were cute, and he was only human so he anthropomorphized his vacuum, naming it Freddy. Getting used to the anthropomorphic personification of dreams hanging around in his flat… took a bit more time.

4. Life is but a Dream

Rose put her head down on the desk. Why? Why would the words come in the middle of the night, and never when she had her laptop out and on? She’d even tried writing her thoughts down, but found that she actually couldn’t make out her sleepy handwriting in the morning. She looked at the tumblr icon on her desktop, sighed, and got up to get a cup of tea instead. That would be a shorter distraction. Probably.

5. Death is not easy to cheat

Unity poured tea in both cups and sat down across from Rose, pushing the plate of cookies toward her. “How are you doing, dear? You look tired.” “Oh, Unity! It’s been so stressful lately! I can’t seem to think of the right words when I sit down to work on my novel, but then they keep me awake in the middle of the night, you know? And during the day Lyta is either freaking out about Daniel being with Uncle Morpheus and Hob, or freaking out about him being so white and growing up so fast.

6. Trials of a Shapeshifter in Love

“Lucienne has been working so hard lately,” Gault explained to the Dream King’s head cook. “I’d like to do something nice for her. I was thinking a surprise romantic dinner over candlelight in the library.” “Ah, yes, I think she would appreciate that very much.” They put their heads together to plan the meal when suddenly Gault heard a familiar voice from the hallway.  “So, what have you already tried?” Lucienne asked. “Hell, all the normal plunging and clawing didn’t fucking fix the goddamned blockage, and it’s a fucking hassle taking the whole damned drain apart all the way back into the fucking wall.” 

7. Naga No-Go

“Lucienne.” Lucienne’s head popped up from the book she was studying. Lord Morpheus’ summons sounded just a little bit more… strained than usual. She turned her head, using her raven senses to triangulate the direction of the summons. His chambers??? This… could not be good.

8. Which Witch (Okay I'm cheating here because this isn't published yet. but if you want more, let me know and I'll post it on ao3 or send you a link.)

“You can’t just come in here without a warrant.” The cantankerous old witch put her hands on her hips and stood squarely in the doorway. Eldie sighed and rubbed the shaved hair at the nape of her neck. “Please let me come in, ma’am. Your daughter hired me to clean and cook and help you out, and I can’t help if you don’t let me in.” “I don’t need help, you shameless hussy! Who does she think she is, that gossiping busy-body! I’m fine here by myself. You can go now!”

Okay, under the cut are mentions of spiders, and non-con body horror. (The fic is not bad, the backstory from canon is, and that's where I started.)

9. Arachnophilia (mentions of spiders)

Zelda stared down at the cafeteria mac and cheese on her plate. The only thing appetizing about the middle school cafeteria food was that her mother wasn’t glaring at her and criticizing how she did or didn’t eat it. Instead, everyone ignored her, tucked into a corner. She would feel hurt about being shunned if she had any desire at all to interact with the other children. She didn’t. She closed her eyes and shoved a forkful into her mouth, thinking about her science project to distract herself from the taste. Spider webs were actually incredibly strong for the size of the filament, and they came in such an extraordinary variety of shapes and sizes. She couldn’t wait to get back to the library for more research. She opened her eyes as she swallowed, scooping up more food and quickly scanning the room. 

10. The Order of the Knights of the Dreaming (the actual fic I wrote is pretty sweet without much actual violence, but Alice's backstory from InCryptids is intense, so skip this next paragraph if you don't like mentions of non-con and body horror)

Alice closed her eyes and felt her memories and skin being ripped from her once again. It hadn’t actually been like that. In real life, she hadn’t figured out her memories were being adjusted for years, and she’d undergone the flensing willingly. But once she learned that her mind had been altered without her knowledge and that removing her skin had not been necessary but was done for the profit of her “uncle,” well, the nightmares about being violated had been unceasing. 

If you made it this far, congratulations, consider yourself no-pressure tagged!