#i have been writing this fic since november 2021

[benicebefunny]

Trying to divine meaningful and fortuitous posting dates for my WIP Big Bang fic. So far, I've got

October 8: the 2nd anniversary of "Inverting the Pyramid of Success" (the episode where my main character begins his journey toward becoming The Friend who Tells You the Truths No One Else Will)

October 4: birthday of Nick Mohammed (actor who plays my main character; and real-life person who--god willing--will never, ever read this story)

September 18: birthday of Keeley Hazell (actor who plays my harried ingenue; and another real-life person I pray doesn't read my work)

October 6: a date that adds up to 16, which iirc was my uniform number on the one and only soccer team I played on (I was 4)

September 11: fic automatically not the worst thing to happen on that date

Open to suggestions from those with divining experience.

[skeletxr]

I have to get back into writig fics 

[f-t-e]

I started watching SUPERNATURAL in November 2020. I know, I know. My partner and I had been isolating alone since March. The timing felt right. I went though a wild amount of upheaval and trauma over the next year and SPN was there for me through it all. It was THE show at THE time and it kept me afloat when I needed it the most. Since November 2021 I've written just about 110,000 words of SPN fanfic, a number that seems unbelievable to me, and that too has been a real blessing to my creative life, no matter what haters say. (why didn't I write my own novels in that time? Because I have a hobby, Karen, and I love it.) And I've read about 500000x that much fanfic, which has been the biggest blessing of all. (ETA: oh right, if you want to read my fic, you can find my stuff here, I wrote a fic where Dean reads books. Lots of books.)

I know I'm a nobody in this fandom but I thought on this, our #DestielDay, I would submit my own humble rec list. I've curated this very deliberately: every fic here has just about 4000 hits or less (most under 3000) and all were published in 2020 or after. So, sort of a rec list for some lesser known and newer fics, something you maybe haven't stumbled on yet. Especially thank you to @jewishcharliebradbury, her rec lists gave me a place to start back in the day and I have tried to model the depth and quality they brought to their lists. I tried to link to everyone's tumblr, but if I missed one, let me know.

Most of all, thank you to everyone who has EVER created something for this fandom, from 2005 to 2023. I am so thankful and, honestly, honored to be among your number. You're not supposed to be cringe and say a show saved your life...but SUPERNATURAL saved me, it really did. See y'all when the movie/reboot drops, to quote Ryan Gosling in The Notebook: IT WASN'T OVER, IT STILL ISN'T OVER. And I'm glad.

-----

Finale Fix-It & S15 and Beyond

What The Moon Was Saying by Amiril (@runawaymarbles)

This is hands-down one of the coolest “Dean Rescues Cas from the Empty” fics I have ever read and the concept is brilliantly structured to mirror the literal and metaphorical things Dean needs to give up and let go to get free. Every scenario is very satisfying and they make sense, is there any better feeling? Dean is very open in this, but in a believable way that still has edges. And, oh, the reunion is so good. Plus all the family stuff. Just excellent, exactly what you want in a fic like this: lovely, well-written, smart, fulfilling, all the pieces clicking, the show but better.

Awake and Annoying by skycruise

I love the use and passage of time in this one, it has some real impact, and I love the way Dean gets into the Empty (so smart, fits just right) and what I REALLY love in this one is the way it lets Dean be really clear-eyed and honest about his relationship with Sam, both the strengths and the weaknesses. And the last line, very clever and moving inverse of one of fandom’s favorite things. 

Living the life you chose by allthismusic

THEEEEE post finale Sam Winchester-Outsider-POV this fandom needs. Sam is absolutely awesome in this, the most believable, loving, realistic mix of “I knew all along” and “I had no idea” versions of Sam, landing somewhere I think that’s really true and in character. It fills in and develops so many gaps and silences in what the show let Sam know in the absolute best way. Best Brother Sam is a weakness of mine and he really shines here, there for Dean in the best ways but also coming into his own, I love it so very much. (this author also has a very great 2022 Big Bang fic, hugely recommend that one too.)

your ear to the wound that whispers by EmandFandems (@lazarusemma)

Who doesn’t love a HANDPRINT FIC?!? And boy this is such a good one. It follows Dean and his thoughts on the handprint from the first touch all the way to fixing the finale and it simply buzzes with longing and desire, tenderness and rawness. It’s great insight in lot of ways into Dean’s journey. It’s short but fulfilling and oh that very perfect last line. (this author also has a lot of great Jupernatural content.)  

Somewhere Off in the Dark by magickastiel 

Another awesome fic that traces Dean’s shifting/growing feelings for Cas from when he shows up in his hotel rooms to a HEA fix it after canon. Dean, again, is handled so deftly in this one, his confusion and sorrow at all the times Cas is slipping away from him all the way through the things he won’t let himself know. He feels really true in this one, sharp and tender in the best Dean ways. Also it has an agonizingly romantic end, you love to end up there.

Pins and Feathers by theskywasblue (@buttherewasnogod)

This author has so many freaking good SPN fics, omg it was almost impossible to pick just one to include on this list. Go treat yourself with their entire list because there’s so much good stuff there! But this one, oh I am a sucker for a finale fix-it that lets Dean be this tender. While I LOVE fics where he just jumps right into Cas’s arms (and write them lol) I also feel like this is so true to Dean too: that “maybe I misunderstood, maybe I shouldn’t say anything, maybe he doesn’t still –” And on top of all that, it’s a “they go the beach” fic and it gets the details of it so right, sand in your toes and all. Tender, amazing slow-burn, real, hot, full of heart and longing and everything unspoken and just waiting. Very satisfying!

i loved you first by kalmialatifolia

A set of four short fics that create an entire world of feeling and emotion. These feel like little whispered stories told under the covers, very atmospheric. There’s one very sexy one, a haircutting one (so good) and they’re just intimate. All together a great set and did I mention they’re in the “Cas saves himself” genre which is mmmm an underrated treasure.

no other faith is light enough for this place by anonymous 

A fix-it fic that has a particularly unique and beautiful visual of both how and why Cas comes back. The mechanics behind it are fairly standard but the way this author creates the visual of it, the sheer emotion and force behind it and how it happens, it really stood out to me and stuck with me. It’s Dean being brave enough to really feel and the way that just blossoms – lovely, aching, full-tilt wonderful.

 no proof, one touch by TakeThisWaltz (@watchinghimrakeleaves)

One thing I absolutely cannot get enough of is fic where Cas is hiding out from Dean in heaven. It just hits. And the only thing better is Dean chasing him down and the WAY he does it in this fic, methodically and – well the method (sobs) it is so endearing and OBVIOUS and gives Dean a chance to shout in all the best ways. This one is just real sweet and kind of goofy and if they have to be in heaven, I want them to still be these same two dorks.

Stay by redbrickrose

This is a post S15x18 from Cas’s POV and I think it’s very true to where he would be in the moment of getting yanked out of the Empty: resigned, hesitant about what he has in front of him, still a little in shock. And then. And then. Sweet and simple and Dean gets a chance to say, say, say it. This author has a good post series AU and a lovely little spate of S15 codas, all good. And then wrote this in real-time in the week after 15x18 Despair and right before 15x19 Inherit the Earth aired (could you just sob over the possibilities?!) and then hasn’t wrote anything since and that’s a shame but, like, yeah I get it.

like a one-two punch by Muir_Wolf (@muirmarie)

Don’t you love a short fic that feels like it’s a whole novel? This goes AU after 14x20 Moriah but it is a truly delightful twist on how Chuck could’ve reacted there and it makes Dean sharp as a knife, which is one really resonant image woven through this fic. Great imagery here and so many clever solutions for the lazy plotting of S15, including simply one of my all-time favorites in any fic ever solutions to Cas’s deal (genius) and getting rid of Chuck. Brilliant like a puzzle box yet still full of so much fucking joy.

maybe i like pleasure pain by tothewillofthepeople (@kvothes)

The fact that this was written in October 2023 and is so agonizingly good fills my heart with joy and tells me Destiel will never die lol. Cas, in particular, is great in this – he’s having a hard time adjusting to being in a body and with all the fuzz of the world. I love fics where Cas struggles with coming back from the Empty and this uses a really unique approach to it: Cas facing sensory overload and not knowing how to feel but wanting it all. Lovely, hot, Dean is just right in this too.

Earlier Canon (pre S15)

Proverbs 13:12 by starlingcas (@angelcasendgame)

Many might say I am biased because Renu has beta’ed everything I have written in the SPN fandom and they can read my brain and make everything I write better. But it’s not just that. Renu has done something beautiful and delicate in this fic, which is about Dean and Cas getting trapped in a net together (forced proximity trope, yes please) and weaves a web of its own; pulling you in just as they are pulled together. This is set mostly in early S14 (before fixing the finale in the most heart-healing way) and captures that feeling so well. There’s so much that’s unsaid between them yet still conveyed and Renu absolutely nails that, along with the tender longing that was always there. This is a fic to relish.

you may tire of me (as our december sun is setting) by deludedfantasy

You know how the show just sometimes is like “uh so anyway uh then Cas…uh…left.” and it just doesn’t make one lick of sense? FINALLY FINALLY a fic where Dean says “I’ll go with you,” and then goes because he actually would do that. This is a post Tombstone fic so it is exactly where/when he WOULD go and it is tender and hesitant and aching in just all the ways it would be between the two of them at this time. It’s about needing to keep someone in sight, it’s about having another chance to say something so important, it’s slow and soft and just right for the characters in this place. I could read this one about 100 times.

the anatomy of flightless birds by cowlovely (@dollhousemary)

This fic is basically the way you feel when you get all cozy and snug underneath your favorite blanket. This is a domestic-life-in-the Bunker S9 fic where everyone behaves like they are in character and not just like they have to get Cas off screen because the writers panicked. You’ll just want to curl up in this fic and savor it the way you wrap your fingers around a hot beverage on a very cold day, there’s no better way to describe it.

virtue by JenTheSweetie

I think I’ve read this about 100 times and it still gets me everytime? It’s a five things fic about Dean and Cas hooking up and it’s all you’ve ever wished for. This is set in an amorphous S8 and it is not just agonizingly hot but also romantic and very funny. It feels really in character! Sam is hilarious, Dean is clueless but bowled over and letting himself be swept up, Cas is delighting in every second and smarter than he lets on and it ALL feels fated and lovely and sexy and just splendid. (this author only has 3 SPN fics but they are all so good and if you try sometimes, well you just might find is an absolutely brilliant deconstruction of Dean learning the differences between “needing” and “wanting.”)

Romance at the Motel 6 by shelia_amour 

This fic makes me feel like Stefon from SNL. This fic has everything: Cas and Sam pretending to be married, just the right amount of jealous Dean, Dean randomly pretending to be married to Cas, Dean realizing maybe this isn’t so fake after all, motel vibes, Cas in Dean’s clothes, Cas getting bee slippers. If you are not sold on this already, we are very different people. So good, aches just right. (set in a kind of “whenever” of canon, but I like to put it somewhere in S8.)

que sera sera by Purple_Starflower (@hauntedpearl)

The epitome of how fanfic unfolds for us all the things that COULD happen. You can’t PROVE to me Dean and Cas never snuck off to snuggle and feed Dean’s touch-starvation early in S13. I had to check when I finished because I just couldn’t believe this fic was under 4000 words because it feels so full of touch, longing, the things unspoken, and all the ways Dean was reaching, reaching, reaching. The best kind of ache, and everything by this author is lovely. 

the hard edge that you’re settling for by lesspopped (@trekkiedean)

This is some S10 Demon!Dean that made my stomach hurt and my heart ache and I absolutely loved it and I absolutely hated it and it all felt so REAL with who Demon!Dean was and could have been. There’s a TW for mildly dubious consent in this, but to me, Cas was so agonizingly true to who he was/where he was at this point in canon too. This fic is gloriously, claustrophobically intimate. I say unbearable because as a reader you know that this closeness, this intimacy, is what Dean wants/craves/deserves but can only give himself as a demon and the author does an exquisite job at getting all that across. Hurts so good! 

four of swords by sundryvillians (eurythmix) (@perenial)

Can the world ever have enough post 12x12 fic? The answer is, of course, no. Dean and Cas bake bread and in the soft space of creating something with their own hands, get so close to the words Cas said. It’s about healing and anger and making something just because you are so tired of everything breaking. If that alone isn’t enough to convince you, let me also throw in this is another one of those “possible off-screen moments in canon” that gives them something honest and tender and raw and it feels so very possible. 

Fifteen Prayers From the Faithless by koyas_cat

Short, achy, that sweet sting. A set of prayers for Cas from the beginning to the end, full of all the things Dean doesn’t let himself say outloud and just reflecting the changes in their connection over alllll the years. So good.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

September Creator of the Month: Tveitertotwrites

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month: @tveitertotwrites

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTMs can be found here.

Tumblr Blog Name: Tveitertotwrites

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Megan

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog

Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

I started playing in 2019, and my first book was Rules of Engagement.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined the fandom in January 2022. I had taken a break from Choices for a while but went back in November/December 2021 and started trying to look for fanfiction for Open Heart as I wanted to see if there was more Open Heart content, so I turned to Tumblr and AO3 and decided to join.

3- How did you pick your blog name? 

It was the first thing I could think of. I’m not creative with naming things (if anyone remembers my original blog name, it was openheartfanfiction because I only wrote for OH and couldn’t think of anything else). So I was like, “I’m a fan of Aaron Tveit. His fans are called Tveiter Tots, so why not?”  I then added writing because most of the content I make is fanfiction.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it! 

It was actually a little intro to my account, but I had deleted it a while back so now it’s this. It is not my favorite. I would definitely redo it now that I have had more experience with text fics. 

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both? 

While I would love to make fan art, currently, I only write fanfiction.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I have been writing/creating Choices content since 2022. But I have been writing for Star Wars and Adam Driver Characters since 2020 (even though I am on hiatus from it, and I don’t know if/when I will pick it back up). I also wrote some Marvel fanfiction with a friend in 2021. More recently, I have started writing stuff for Aaron Tveit and Cillian Murphy characters on my non-Choices blog.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Right now, I would say either Red Carpet Diaries or America’s Most Eligible is my favorite. But I also like Open Heart, High School Story, and others. I want to create more for RCD and AME, but I think I like creating content for OH.

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

Since I already mentioned the text fic, I chose the next fic I did. It was for my Open Heart MC’s (Claire Evans) Birthday. And I would 100 percent go back and rewrite it. I like the idea of what I wrote, but I don’t like its execution, and I need to go back and rewrite it.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created? 

Right now, I have these two favorites. While I like writing angst, I enjoy writing fluffy stuff like these two fics. Plus, it’s my MC and OC who are besties (Claire and Adelaide), so I had to choose one from both of them.

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

This was a fic that I wasn't expecting to get notes on. I was still very new to the fandom at the time and hadn’t really interacted with anyone at that point, so seeing people like it was a shock.

Something that I wish I could do better is the content I make for my RCD and AME MCs (Brooklyn Moore and Charlie Howard). I love that people like my OH content, but I don’t see many people liking content from those books (which is fine if you don’t like it).

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

Fluff. While writing Angst and Smut can be fun, writing fluff is a nice escape from real life.

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Yes, I have put some things from myself into my MCs and OCs, like some personality traits, some physical traits, and some hobbies/things they enjoy. So, I do see myself sometimes, but not always.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Either coming up with titles or writing bits in between the big parts. Usually, one of the last things I do is come up with a title because I can never think of one. Also, writing the “less important” parts in between the parts I want to write is what gets me sometimes and is why I have unfinished fics that I have abandoned.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

I have some fics that I had done some previews for (last year or the year before) that I would like to finish at some point. Right now, I am trying to finish a Dancing with the Stars AU for Adelaide and Tobias, so that is my writing priority.

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first? 

Maybe it depends on who it is. While I don’t think anyone would be too judgemental, I would still be very nervous to show them in fear of them hating it or something like that. I wouldn't show them the smut or some of my earlier fics but the fluff I would.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

Not really. I have liked a lot of people’s work, but I don’t think that it really influences my writing at all though.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

I think my fic “Coming to You” would be fun to see as a movie. Seeing how Ethan and Claire’s relationship grows on screen when they’re in two different worlds would interest me.

19- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art? 

I have thought about trying to write an original fiction book, but right now I don’t. I do currently write some original screenplays as I am in college for screenwriting.

20-  What other hobbies do you have?

I like to paint and listen to music. I like to take drives in the morning to get coffee and relax or at night with my dogs. I like to watch movies and musicals (like Moulin Rouge and Six). 

21: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to)

Thank you to anyone who has read any of my fics or enjoyed the content I create. It means a lot, and I hope to continue writing content that both you and I can enjoy.

[usedpidemo]

Update - 3rd year anniversary! (and some future plans, a reflection, etc.)

Hi everyone! π here.

By the time this post is up, it'll be the 13th of May. Three years since I began my writing journey and this Tumblr blog. Three years. Time flies by so fast. I was close to graduating senior high after it was delayed because pandemic, had my graduation in an empty room basically, now I'm hitting my third year of college. Crazy stuff.

With that said, here are the stats + timetable of the blog so far:

First work: Sandwich (Wendy) (published 05/13/21, 4:03 a.m)

Highest note count: Tell your friends (Yujin x Wonyoung) (published 01/14/23, 1274 notes)

Number of works published: 91 fics (1 fic every 12.03 days)

500 followers: June 18, 2021 (36 days)

1000 followers: October 12, 2021 (152 days)

2000 followers: June 18, 2022 (401 days)

3000 followers: November 12, 2022 (548 days)

4000 followers: May 22, 2023 (740 days)

5000 followers: December 18, 2023 (950 days)

Current follower count: 5615 (1 new follower every 5.12 days)

It's been a hectic final month of college, so I apologize for the lack of activity in recent times :< But summer is coming up very soon, so hopefully I'll have all the time in the world to write more till then! I will say, a new fic is on the near horizon, so please be on the lookout!

I would like to take the opportunity to thank every single of you, whether reader, lurker, or a fellow writer for your support! Especially during these lull times, your unwavering support has kept me afloat and has been a motivation in continuing to write. Love you guys as always. Here's to another fruitful year <3

From this point, this part will be an overall reflection and life summary of the previous year, my thoughts on some personal matters, and some ideas I've been contemplating. If you don't wanna read this, you can stop here.

I miss 2023 quite a bit, not gonna lie. I know nostalgia can quickly grow warm and fuzzy, seeing the past through rose tinted lens, but I'll admit that 2024 hasn't been off to the start I envisioned it to be. That year was mostly peak for me, and I could even argue it's my favorite year to live out based on all my experiences. Traveling to new places, finally attending live events, interacting with my K-pop biases, and so on—it really felt like the best was yet to come with how 2023 flowed and transitioned into the new year.

Five months in, and I am struggling. Horribly. Most plans, dreams, and ideas have gone up in smoke, and it's just one devastating gut punch after another. I have a shitty professor in one major that basically made me check out of that class, and I don't know my family will react when I tell them I have to repeat said class because that professor was a dick. My family's been infighting on a daily basis, and I'm mostly collateral damage to them. Not one week can go by without some serious confrontation between them. There was a brief health scare with my mother, but that seems to be a nothing matter; thank God she'll be okay.

All this just makes life so deflating, in all honesty. I get that no life is without struggle, but I genuinely don't know when we'll be in the clear. Not anytime soon, I reckon. In these tough times, there's very little comfort except the past, when everything was pretty all right for the most part. It's been demotivating to write when mom comes forward with another grievance with my sister. It's hard to write when you have a professor who likes to power trip their students into submission. It's hard when you don't know how to admit to your mother that he failed his one class because of said power tripping professor.

But that doesn't mean I will let it eat me alive. I know we've been through some utter lows in the past. And we always get back up. If no one has us, then God does.

Summer break is fast approaching and I want to fix things. Even in my own little way. I know none of what I'm saying has anything to do with writing degenerate stories about hot K-pop idols, but real life circumstances have definitely affected me more than I can brush off. I should be calm, unfazed, undeterred.

After all, some stories are meant to be finished. They just take a more unconventional route. Ask Cody.

With all that being said, I will finish these commissions over the next two months. I'm really sorry to everyone who requested and paid for their stories months and months ago; I genuinely feel bad for not getting these out on time, but I am very mindful of quality control, and I have no one to blame but myself for being a slacker and lazy worker. Despite my feelings, I should remain professional—that's what being a worker means.

A lifestyle overhaul is definitely in my list of things to improve over the summer too. Figuring out how to get writing done, finding ways to alleviate my PokeRogue addiction (GOTY), whilst having a healthy work/life balance and not losing my sanity over it. Or worse, burning out.

And I want to take this opportunity to thank all my friends—peach, caps, majorblinks, chunk, frisky, raf, c.o, levi, sins, iz, ken, v1n, ddeun, notions, kevin, eros, brandon, kaede, svn, frisky, cray, rpg, prael—for putting up with my shit for another year. This life is tough, but you guys make it tolerable. Thank you for letting me air out my grievances even when it wasn't the best time to. I pray that when everything passes, I'm able to repay you all in some shape or form generously.

And to you, dear reader, for making it this far, thank you. Whether you've been with me since day one, or day 1094, as a commenter, reposter, liking, or just passing by/lurking, thank you for giving me a chance. Without you, all of this would have been for nothing. I don't know where I would be now if I didn't take that chance, that leap of faith back in 2021, and it's because of you I am able to keep doing this for the love of the game.

With grace,

Peter / π

[bqstqnbruin]

Just Friends - Prologue

Hi hello this is a fic that I started in 2021 with a different player and have been writing this version of it since November of last year so enjoy the prologue.

WC: 799

Warnings: None yet

______________________________

“Hey, who was that guy in the elevator?” Keelan asks when he and Emeline walk down the hall to her apartment.

“What?” She looks up from her phone, barely noticing where they were; she had practically been on autopilot, emailing a student who sent her a question about their quiz the next day. She regretted scheduling a quiz on a Monday, but it was too late now to move it. “There was a guy in the elevator with us?’

Keelan laughs, throwing his arm around her and kissing the side of her head while she tries to type with one hand and unlock her door with the other,not noticing the scowl on her face as he knocks her off balance. “Yeah, Emmy, he had a bunch of bags with him like he was moving in or out or something? He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Emeline scoffs, opening the door, hitting send and shoving her phone back in her pocket. “We’re home,” she calls, unsure if her roommates were back from work yet. “I’m not even sure there was a guy in the elevator, and you’re going to tell me that he was, what, ogling me?”

Fran appears from around the corner, plopping herself down on the couch and snatching the remote before Keelan gets the chance to do it himself. “He doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘ogling,” she deadpans, not looking away from the TV screen. 

“He was definitely staring at Emeline,” Keelan practically whines, as he normally does when Fran sets him off with a snarky comment, Emeline herself trying to stifle the laugh knowing that her roommate was right. 

“So?” Fran asks, finally looking at Emeline. The look Fran gave her practically begged Emeline to get Keelan away from her, the usual one Fran had when he was around.

“Yeah, wait, why does it matter if a guy was looking at me? Clearly I didn’t care about him if I didn’t know about him.”

Keelan sighs, running his hands through his hair. “There was this weird tension I felt when we were in there. You didn’t feel it, too?”

“Again, I didn’t know he was even there,” Emeline says, dragging him into the kitchen, hearing Fran mutter ‘thank you.’ “How could there be tension when I was glued to my phone? Maybe he had tension with you.”

“Take this seriously,” Keelan groans. 

“I’m trying,” Emeline laughs, walking up to him and leaning against the counter next to him. “But you have to hear how ridiculous you sound, right? Some random guy, who I probably don’t even know, having tension with me?” 

Keelan pulls her close, Emeline’s phone dinging with an email notification from another student. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, starting to type out a response when Keelan takes her phone from her hands. “Emeline.”

“Keelan,” she gasps, trying to reach for her phone. He was taller than her by a good four inches, holding it way above her head. “This conversation is ridiculous.” 

“Remember when we first met? We had that one conversation about celebrity crushes?”

“Yeah,” she says, her tone short as she still tried to reach her phone.

He puts his other hand on her shoulder, lowering her arms to get her attention. “You told me that you didn’t have one but if you had to picture our perfect man, he would be tall, brown hair and brown eyes, short beard, and that he would look at you like he couldn’t believe you would even think about standing next to him, let alone pay attention to him.”

“I was describing you, dumbass. I wanted to date you.” 

“You described him. That was who he was. He looked at you the way I look at you.”

Emeline stares at him. “Keelan, so what? We had a random conversation, what, seven years ago? Guys look at me sometimes. Girls look at you sometimes. If I got jealous every time-”

“I’m not jealous,” he cuts her off.

“Do not interrupt me,” she tells him, waiting a beat to see if he would continue. “If I got jealous every time a girl looked at you like she wanted to get with you, our relationship would have ended a long time ago.” 

Keelan takes him a deep breath, finally lowering his arm with her phone and giving it back to her, placing his hands on her waist. “I don’t know, Emmy. I’ve seen other guys look at you before. Something about this guy felt different.”

“Keel, I’m dating you. I’ve been dating you. I love you. So what if he’s ‘different?’ It doesn’t matter,” she tries to reassure him, draping her arms on his shoulders, feeling him pulling her closer. “We’re together. I don’t see any reason why we wouldn’t be.” 

[anna-scribbles]

can you share some of your writing/planning process for thirteen? i adore the non-linear format - how do you decide what scenes to put where?

ahh thank you!! idk how much of a defined process I have, but there's definitely a lot of planning that goes into it and i can show you some of that.

i keep all the chapters in one doc organized by month, and then i plan everything out in bullet points in a timeline at the beginning. here i just have october and november as examples bc after december things started to get more detailed/messy

all of the scenes (especially at the beginning) set the stage for things i’ve planned to happen later, or establish something that feels relevant to adrien’s character by the time we meet him in canon. the task of condensing an entire month into about 2-3 scenes has been a bit difficult; i’ve found out that i’m a very present-moment kind of writer so it’s harder for me to describe the passage of, like, weeks of time. so i’ve been pinpointing specific threads of adrien’s story that i want to be sure to tell and choosing scenes from each month that build on that.

i’ve had the idea for this fic in the back of my mind since about 2021 so i’ve had several scenes cemented in my mind, ways i’ve decided things played out, etc. some of the writing process has been building the narrative around those things or figuring out how we get there. that’s what i love about prequels in general, honestly - it’s inevitable where we’re going to end up, but how do we get there?

adrien’s situation, at the moment we meet him in origins, is SO endlessly fascinating to me. he is in the process of doing something reckless and rebellious and bold - running away - against the will of his father, a man he spends the rest of the series struggling with his compulsion to submit to. we find out, via the rest of the show, exactly how difficult it is for adrien to stand up to his father. and yet, in his very first appearance, adrien is running away from him.

how did he get here? what, exactly, pushed him to this point? was this the final escalation of a steady build of rebellious behaviors, or an impulsive breakthrough after one awful day too many? what has this small boy been through in the last year, and why does public school seem to be his only fathomable escape?

and WHY, if his circumstances are so dire as to compell him to rebel so boldly in the first place, does he still throw it away to help the old man in the road? what makes him so kind, when he has everything to lose? what happened? how did he get here?

i’m interested, obviously, in the character of émilie. i think that the hole she leaves in the narrative is a compelling silhouette and i’ve been having a blast trying to pencil in its details. it’s obvious that adrien loved her deeply and had a stronger connection to her than with gabriel. but also, adrien was still shut off from the world while she was alive. he was still, presumably, an exploited child star while she was alive. she was an actress and a mother and died by broken magic and never told her son the truth about any of it. figuring out who i think she was and then how to show that through young adrien’s eyes has been a huge part of planning this story for me.

as far as the twenty three year old adrien sections, those have been less involved as far as planning goes. i only recently mapped out which areas of the house i want him to visit during the different months. i wanted his sections to line up at least thematically, if not physically, where thirteen year old adrien is at in his story. for example, in december twenty three year old adrien cleans out the dining room where thirteen year old adrien was having terrible christmas dinner. and in january they’re both in the garden, etc.

it’s a bit harder to map out twenty three adrien just because it has to also make sense geographically - i can’t have him running back and forth up and down the stairs, let’s be real he doesn’t have the energy for that. i’ve also opened up the agreste mansion page on the miraculous wiki so many times while trying to map this out 💔💔 did you know that apparently there’s a third floor we never see in the show. yeah i have to figure out what to do with that now

ANYWAY long story short: the planning process for thirteen is kind of a mess, but the whole story is built around some central plot points that i knew i wanted to hit from the beginning. the details change a lot (as you can see from the outline above - it’s not quite right) but i keep the end in mind. just have to figure out how we get there.

thank you for asking!! mwah<3

[darkkitty1208]

on fic writing and fandom: where am i going forward?

So. It's a bloody dull Friday and I'm writing this post--have been meaning to, for a while--because I can't stop thinking about it. It's just a few (a lot, actually) thoughts I've had in my mind the past few days that I've decided to spill into a single post, which turned out far longer than it needed to be, but nothing too important. Under the cut.

I've been a fanfic writer for a while now. Not a long time by any means, but a while nonetheless. My first fic--which is now orphaned like a few of its brothers for undisclosed reasons, though if you're an og you might be able to guess why--was dated back to the 18th of November 2021. 3 years later and I've got a humble 89 works and counting (the orphaned works and unposted wips unincluded). I can safely say I've improved quite a lot since then.

Where are you going with this, then, Kitty? Surely you aren't here just to brag about your writing progress?

Well. Not exactly. But I'll start with this: I guess what I'm trying to say is I've lost the spark.

You know. The old feeling. That boost of serotonin you get after you finish a piece you're proud of, or when you get lovely reviews on ao3, or when you get a kudos email, or a new mutual, or some wild tags under your silly post. The spark. I haven't felt it in a long time, now. The last time it's been so palpable was... I'm not sure. Probably last year's October. That was a lot of fun. I was most prolific in fic writing, that year. It shouldn't feel like a long time ago. Because it wasn't.

Don't get me wrong. I love all this. All that's going on right now. The comments I'm getting--even if fewer than I had before--and all the other interactions, I appreciate and enjoy and love them so, so much. And writing my newer fic projects are well exciting. But it just isn't the same anymore. I'm afraid it never will be.

(Maybe it has something to do with the lack of interactions lately. Maybe? I don't really know, either. I'm sure we're all well aware the fandom is past its peak, and with the current developments in the MCU I am frankly unsurprised, but I dunno.)

I guess that's part of the reason I've been less active lately. I've been inactive as a whole this year, admittedly, and disappearing far too often for far too long (and I notice some of my friends are, too). I just didn't get the same joy from being in a fandom like I had when I first started this blog, or my ao3 account.

In hindsight, I've probably been a little too dependent on fandom to provide me serotonin. The past few years have been hard, the years before that, too. Life just keeps kicking me in the arse time and time again. I guess I've been using fandom and fic writing as a coping mechanism, and once I've had my fill, the joy dies off to something a little more dull. Like a gum I've been chewing for too long that the sweetness has since worn off.

Honestly? I don't want it to be this way. I want to live without being so dependent on my presence online. I want to live without only knowing joy through internet interactions. I've got to learn to. It sounds silly, but it's true. (I think I may be slightly chronically online, oh no. x'D)

So naturally my first instinct is to distance myself a little. I contemplated quitting, but I can't do that. I don't see myself ever doing that, no matter how many times my brain convinces me that I might.

When this year started, I had set some goals for writing. One of them was to write for more whumptober prompts than I did last year or complete them all. I did like 21 prompts or something last year. Of 31. Within a little more than a month. While still balancing all the life stuff I had going on. This is, if not obvious, an extremely ambitious goal. I am not insane. I don't know what I was thinking. I can't possibly do that now, can I? Not with all the stuff that's been happening.

...

Can I?

...

Yeah, no. Definitely not.

See, that's another thing: writing. Probably the thing I'm trying to get at in this post but otherwise derailed completely from. Fuck my brain.

I'm sure many of you have noticed that I've been writing significantly less. I still post, obviously, but not as much as like, last year when the number of works I had went from a few to far too much. That had helped me improve quite a lot, actually, but those days I barely slept because I just insisted to replace my sleep time with Writing Shit For The Gays. It was pretty unhealthy now that I look back at it. My sleep schedule is still shit now but, yk. Some things just never change.

I was really, really caught up on wanting to be good at writing. Like, really good. I wanted to make awesome things. I wanted to write like a real fucking pro. Like all the more popular fandom authors I look up to. I want to be like the big dogs in fandom. It sounds so silly. I did everything; sprinting daily, setting a minimum of 500 words writing sessions every day, trying new writing styles, churning out works after works, writing for prompts and events and gifts and the like. I was enjoying it, yes, but was it really something I did for myself? Or was it because I wanted to please other people or impress other people for their validation, which is something I'm entirely too dependent of? Was it for the numbers?

Well. It was more for that than for me, I realised a little too late.

So yeah. Fuck wanting to be good. I want to write for the hell of it. I want to write something that's for me. Not what the majority of the fandom or other people want to read, but for me. Which is why I absolutely loved writing works like just a matter of time, how to kill a god, or how to become a god, because they're not meant for other people but myself. (Ironically that last work is a gift but, yk. I still liked it.) I know I joke about self-projecting a lot, but it's been seriously helping me rediscover the joy of writing that doesn't come from the incessant need to be good or perfect or focus on producing more and more and more. It makes me feel like a kid again. Also, I'm only realising this now but I'd rather get like 5 people who enjoy reading my works so much and express them to me rather than 100 people who silently thumbs up at me and then go away to consume another fic or demand more. (All this to say I still love interactions, it just shouldn't be my no. 1 priority to get them when writing fanfics.)

But yeah. None of those works are perfect. They're not meant to be. But they're mine. They're me. They represent me. And it's so, so great to feel that in writing. I've been so stuck up on being some sort of content machine. I'm doing this for myself, how could I forget? I've been saying this since the beginning, I don't know why I'm still struggling to do it. God. It's ridiculous.

Anyway. That's that. This has become a very long ramble. Thank you for listening to my Ted Talk. And for letting me waste your time, if you make it to the end of this post.

[musings-of-a-rose]

I'll Always Wait For You - Chapter 18 (Final Chapter)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 6900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Well, this is it. The final chapter. I’m feeling very emotional about this one, as these 2 are my babies. This fic was the second thing I ever started writing AND my first series. I started it in November of 2021 and now I’m ending it in June of 2023. Thank you to everyone who has read it, left comments, reblogged it, talked about it off of Tumblr (I am still FLOORED that this has happened!). This is what keeps people creating. Even if you think you have nothing important to say, or if all you say is just a keyboard mash of letters, I can promise you ALL of it means the world to us. So I dedicate this fic to you, the reader. You’re the real star here and I can’t express my love enough. If you’re ever wanting more, I am always down to write one shots, drabbles, character insights, what ifs, etc for this fic (and any of my others).

Now excuse me while I go cry

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

I'll Always Wait For You Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

<&lt;Chapter 17

“You look so beautiful!” Olivia gushes over you after she tucks the last braid into place, watching you stand and do a little twirl in your white dress.

“You think so? It’s not too much?”

“Too much? Girl, it’s your wedding day. You can’t be too much!”

Smiling, you smooth out your dress as you take in your reflection. You’re marrying Frankie. Your Frankie. Frankie, whom you’ve been in love with since you were 19. This is real. It’s happening.

Ok, technically, in the eyes of the law, it happened a few weeks ago at a courthouse. But there’s something special about gathering in front of your close friends and family, wearing a beautiful dress, and getting to repeat those vows in front of everyone. A soft knock at the door brings you out of your head and Olivia walks across the room to peak her head outside. 

“Mosa, it’s the photographer. Are you ready for the first look?”

“It’s HERmosa!” Frankie’s muffled yell comes from behind the door and Olivia smirks. 

One last glance in the mirror at your reflection and you nod, turning your back towards the door. You hear some shuffling as Frankie is ushered in backwards and the photographers get into place. 

“Turn in 3..2..1..Turn!” Olivia says and then steps back.

You turn, your eyes finding his almost immediately, as if they were drawn there. He’s dressed in a tailored suit, fitting his form perfectly, his grandfather’s kerchief folded and poking from the pocket. But what you’re really interested in is his face, his eyes growing wider and glossier the longer he looks at you.

“Hermosa, you…you’re beautiful,” Frankie says, awestruck.

“You’re just figuring that out?” You say behind a smile.

“No, I mean I always knew but…wow.”

He walks up to you and cups your cheek, running his thumb across it as Olivia hisses something about makeup from the corner of the room. But you couldn’t care less. Frankie was here, marrying you. This is all you’ve dreamt of for well over 10 years. A tear runs down Frankie’s cheek and you wipe it away.

“Are you ok?”

He sniffs and smiles. “I’m the best I’ve felt in a long time. I just…I only wish we would’ve done this sooner.”

“We did. We got married in the courthouse, remember?” 

He smiles at you. “I meant more that we never…that we stayed together since that first kiss.”

“Me too. But we can’t dwell on what-ifs. We can only think about the here-and-nows.”

Frankie tips your chin up and presses a light kiss to your lips, the clicks from the camera going crazy. You pose for photos for several minutes before Olivia ushers everyone from the room, winking at you when she says she’ll give you 10 minutes of alone time before she came to get you. The second the door closes, Frankie pushes his tongue in your mouth, pulling you as close as he can. 

“I can’t mess this dress up, Frankie,” You say pouting.

“That’s ok. I can work with that.” Frankie grips your hips and spins you around, bending you over the back of the chair and clasping a hand to your mouth as he takes you, your hands desperately trying to reach behind you to pull him in closer. 

15 minutes later, Olivia knocks on the door and enters hesitantly, smirking when she sees you smoothing down your dress, Frankie’s face more pink than when she had left. 

“It’s time,” she says, tossing her thumb over her shoulder and looking at Frankie pointedly. He turns to you and kisses your cheek.

“See you out there?”

“Raging sharks couldn’t keep me away.” 

He kisses you once more before Olivia starts clearing her throat. When he straightens up a curl falls on his forehead and you softly push it back to where it was, feeling Frankie’s eyes on you the entire time. He opens the door and looks outside befire turning back to you. 

“Your gift is here.”

“You don’t have to get me a gift, Frank-”

Santi walks through the door, dressed in a nice tux and smiling from ear to ear. You hadn’t seen him since the day he confessed his love for you and you had missed him terribly. Frankie was your best friend, but Santi was a close second and you’d hated the idea of getting married without him there.

“Santi?”

“Hey, Hermosa.”

You catch a glimpse of Frankie’s smile before he closes the door as you wrap your arms around Santi, feeling him squeeze you back just as hard. Separating a few moments later, you dab under your eyes as you try to choke back tears. 

“If I smudge my makeup, Olivia may kill me.”

Santi laughs. “She’s Benny’s girl, right? She’s perfect for him.”

“She’s really great…but how are you here?”

“I uh…Frankie called me a few weeks ago and told me…well, everything. I’m sorry I was screening my calls, Hermosa. I just…I needed time.”

“I understand. But…you’re here now! Are you ok?”

“I’m doing alright, Hermosa. Actually, pretty good.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about her.”

He laughs. “I will. But uh, hey - do you need a Man of Honor? If…if that would…be ok?”

“I would love to have to as my Man of Honor! But…Benny already agreed and I don’t know how to tell him -”

Santi waves his hand. “Benny was in on this. He knows and already said it was ok with him as long as you wanted it.”

Your eyes go wide. “Wait. Benny knew you were coming and he didn’t tell me?”

“Yeah.”

You gasp. “That bitch!”

Santi laughs his hardest yet. “So…”

“Let’s go, Man of Honor.”

The next thing you know, Frankie’s kissing you, everyone whooping and cheering, Aurelia throwing more flower petals into the air as they announce “Mr. and Mrs. Morales.” The rest of the night was like a blur, between photos and eating, first dances and cake, you barely had time to sit until things started to wind down long into the night. When you tried to help clean up, Olivia literally slapped your hand away and glared at you.

“Absolutely not. Benny!” He walks over and play groans when she says she’s recruited him to help clean up. She pretends to twist his nipple when he starts to complain and he yelps, high pitched and smiling as they play fight for a few moments before he gives in, grabbing plates and stacking them to wash. 

Frankie looks exhausted and he’s limping a little, so you beg him to not carry you over the threshold. “You did that when we got courthouse married.”

“Yeah but-”

“No. I’m not having you throw your hip out on our wedding day. Not from this.”

He chokes and smiles, giving in, a dark twinkle in his eye. “Alright. If you insist.” But by the time you’d made it upstairs and gotten your clothes off, both of you were too exhausted to do much of anything aside from a shower and literally fall into bed. But Frankie made up for lost time the next morning, waking you with what he claims was already your third orgasm of the day, his curls mussed up from being buried between your legs. He presses his body to yours, swallowing your whimpers before he adds his own, hips shaking with release. 

You spend your honeymoon at the Miller family cabin upstate, the only clothing you wear being one of Frankie’s shirts and sometimes his hat, which drives him wild. He celebrates another sobriety milestone while there, smiling wide at your praise. When you get back home, you can see he has an extra pep in his step, always a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, always wanting to touch you, whether a hand to your wrist, a touch to your lower back, or a smack on your ass, chuckling as you yelp and smack him back. When you ask him why he looks exceptionally happy, he credits you. “I finally got the girl of my dreams, the love of my life.”

—-

Frankie and you settle into a comfortable routine. You were no strangers to living together, the adjustment taking no time at all. Life goes on as normal, except now, you get to live it with Frankie, no longer separated by a stupid argument, misconceptions, or a bitch of an ex wife. This was exactly where you were meant to be. 

Several months later, Frankie follows you into the family restroom at Target, slinging your purse over his shoulder as he rifles through the bag of stuff you’d just purchased.

“Pink dye first, right?” He asks, raising his eyebrows as he looks at you.

“Yeah. They’re more accurate supposedly.” 

Frankie tears open the box and studies the directions, as if he hadn’t done this several times already. He opens one of the sticks and hands it to you, turning around to give you a little privacy. 

“Start the timer,” you say as you zip up your pants. Frankie hits go on his timer and turns to face you, a pregnancy stick held face down in your hand. He can see your nerves, your worry and concern on your face.

“It’ll be ok, Hermosa.”

“Yeah I know. But what if it isn’t?”

“It will be-”

“We’ve been trying for months, Frankie. I know the OB said to try for a year before fertility testing but-”

Frankie walks up to you and pulls you to him, applying a gentle pressure as he hugs you close, kissing the side of your head. “If it’s negative, then we keep trying, ok? It hasn’t been a year yet and sometimes these things take time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Will told me that it took them months to conceive Liam. And they were trying too. Just…breathe. In….out…”

You breathe with him for a few breaths. “You always were annoyingly calm in a crisis.”

He smiles. “Wouldn’t help to freak out behind the joystick.” 

You open your mouth to reply, but his timer cuts you off. Your mouth jams shut, nerves taking over your body as Frankie holds your gaze. 

“If it says negative, we can keep trying. Remember that. I love you no matter what, Hermosa.” You nod, taking a deep breath. “Ready?”

“Ready.” You flip the test over and look, 2 bright pink lines staring back at you. Tears immediately fall as you laugh, turning the test around to show Frankie, who yells, grabbing you up in his arms and hugging you tightly. He kisses you for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“I fucking love you, Hermosa.”

“I love you, Frankie.”

He yanks the door open and whoops loudly, people turning to look at him as you follow him out of the bathroom. 

“I’m going to be a father again!” He pumps his fists in the air, smiling from ear to ear as people cheer, clapping and congratulating you as they finish their purchases, one older couple handing you a gift card on their way out, telling you to spoil that baby. 

—-

Frankie was hesitant at first with your pregnancy, despite being so supportive and actually wanting a child with you. A couple months in, you finally ask him why he seems afraid to touch you, that you won’t break. He finally confesses to you that when Elizabeth was pregnant, she did nothing but yell at him, belittling him and wouldn’t let him touch her at all, not her belly, not even to rub her back or feet. She called him horrible names and would blame it on the hormones. Your heart breaks for him and you have no words. Well, you have words but they aren’t nice ones. Instead, you sit next to him on the bed, leaning back onto one arm, and take his hand with the other, gently placing it on your lower belly. His eyes light up as he looks at your tiny for the moment bump, tears welling in his eyes as he brings his other hand up to take the other side. He pulls your shirt up just enough to see your belly skin, giving it a tiny kiss.

“Hey, little one. You grow strong in there and don’t give your mom too much of a hard time.”

From then on, Frankie is all in. Whatever you need, he gets it, even if it’s a ridiculous request at 3am. He’s constantly touching your growing belly, talking to it as much as you do. He finds Aurelia’s old crib in the attic, a few boxes of baby stuff and a bassinet up there as well. He sets up the nursery under your instruction, letting Aurelia help with the decorations when she comes on the weekends. You decide to wait to find out the sex of the baby, thinking it would be something fun to do. So instead you call it “Bean”.

“Think Bean will like this?” Frankie asks, pointing to a baby swing. 

“They might, but Frankie, that swing is nearly $150. We can’t afford that.”

His shoulder’s slump but he agrees. “Maybe we can check the thrift shop. It’s the one thing Will didn’t toss our way.”

He was there for all of the classes too, birthing ones, breathing ones, even the hypnobirthing ones. He signed up for a “birthing partners” class, learning the best ways to support you not just during labor and delivery, but during the 4th trimester, or immediately postpartum. He helped you practice your meditations, making sure you had everything you needed and that you remember to take your prenatal and drink enough water. 

When you’re 8 months pregnant, getting winded from walking down the hall, Frankie gets a call from his boss at Flyboyz on his day off, asking him to come in. He grabs his hat and gives you a quick kiss before leaving, reminding you to drink water. He’d been working a lot lately, trying to make extra money so he can stay home with you and the baby for the first month. You’re not sure how long he’ll be gone, so you plop yourself down on your bed, pulling over the basket of baby clothes that still have to be sorted and you get to work, separating the sizes, long sleeve vs short, nightgowns from onesies. A couple hours later, the front door opens and Frankie slams it behind him, the picture frames rattling on the walls. You set aside the footie pajamas you were folding and go to stand up, but Frankie comes storming into the bedroom before you can move, anger coming off of him in waves.

“Frankie?”

He yanks his hat from his head, tossing it onto his dresser, knocking some things off of it. “I can’t fucking believe her!”

Struggling a little, you manage to get up and cross the room to him, placing your hand on his mid back. He recoils, anger flashing in his eyes but it’s not directed at you. Unsure of what happened, you know he needs to calm down before he can tell you. You grab an ice cube out of your glass of water and turn to Frankie.

“Give me your hand.”

He looks at you, eyebrow raised. “What?”

“Just do it.”

He stares at you for a moment before shoving his hand out. You flip it palm up, opening his fingers and place the ice cube in his palm. He yelps, but you hold his hand firmly so he won’t drop the ice.

“What the fuck, Hermosa?”

“The cold will help reset your nervous system.”

“I don’t think- it’s too fucking cold, Hermosa.”

“Just another few seconds.”

His chest, which had been heaving a moment ago, has slowed down, the anger still there but at a manageable level. You tip his hand and grab the falling ice into your own palm, putting it in the sink in the bathroom before coming back to the bed and trying to sit on it. Frankie is there, taking your hand and helping you into bed. He goes to stand but you squeeze his hand and pull him until he sighs, sitting on the edge, his shoulders slumped.

“How do you feel?”

“Fucking angry, but…the edge is gone. Ice…who fucking knew?”

“So..may I ask what happened?”

His eyes darken with repressed outrage. “I thought I was getting extra work. Instead, my pilot’s license has been suspended, pending a review.”

You sit up quickly, eyes going wide. “What??”

He nods, his jaw clenching. “Apparently, someone made a claim that I was using when I flew some clients and now they have to investigate.”

You knew that Frankie had been clean over a year, that he wasn’t using at all. “Oh, Frankie. Wait..who made the claim?”

He looks at you. “It was anonymous but I know it was Elizabeth.” He says her name with absolute disgust and hate that you nearly pull back from him. 

“Elizabeth? Would she-”

“Oh come on, Hermosa. You don’t think it was her? I’ve been clean for well over a year. She’s the only one who would have known that I used that would make claims.”

“What about Rick?”

Frankie shakes his head. “Nah. He left Flyboyz while you were…out of town. I told him he had to leave or I would report him for selling. He started to threaten to bring me down with him, but then remembered you were…not in my life and he could see the rock bottom in me, I guess. So he backed off, just left to go elsewhere. There’s no way it’s him. It’s her. It’s always her causing shit. I’m so fucking sick of it!”

Placing a hand on his back, you start to rub it, adding in little scratches here and there like he likes. “She is a bitch.”

“I just got my license back. I worked so hard on that.” He puts his face in his hands, resting his elbows on his legs. You scoot towards him wrapping your arm around him. 

“I know you did. But you said suspended? That doesn’t mean revoked, right?”

He shakes his head. “No, it doesn’t.”

“So…what does it mean?”

“It means, I can’t fly until it’s reinstated. I have to pee in a cup at random times during the week for 6 months to prove I’m clean before they will lift the suspension.”

“Well there you go!”

He looks up at you, his eyebrows pulling together. “There I go, what? We can’t afford for me to not have this income, Hermosa.”

“We’ll be ok-”

“You’re about to have a baby. Your income won’t happen for a bit, and that’s fine, but we needed this extra money and now I can’t provide that. All because of my bitch of an ex!”

“Frankie, we’ll be ok. If we have to borrow money, we can.”

“I’m not borrowing money.”

“Fine. Then I will borrow it.”

“No, I’ll…I’ll figure something out.”

“Frankie-”

“Just…can we just stop for tonight? I’m trying to process this.”

You open your mouth to argue but then see the exhausted look on his face. “Sure. Why don’t you come talk to us? That always makes you feel better.”

Leaning back against the headboard, you watch as Frankie scoots up the bed, getting level with your belly as you turn on your side so you’re not being squished. He chats to the baby for a while, about everything and nothing and by the time he’s done, his shoulders are relaxed and he’s not as angry anymore. 

Elizabeth never fully admits to being the one to make the claim, but you see the look on her face through the car window when you make your next exchange for Aurelia after Frankie confronts her and you know she did it. There’s nothing you can say or do except wait it out. Frankie getting his license back will be all the revenge you’ll need.

—---- (Skip to the next line if you don’t want to read about labor. It’s not terribly graphic at all, but I know it’s not everyone’s thing)-------

“I never thought I’d have to beg you to have sex with me!” You stomp your foot, furious that Frankie won’t follow the doctor’s advice. 

It had been a few weeks since his license was revoked and you were a week past your due date and not happy about it.

“Hermosa, I don’t-”

“Want to hurt me, I know, I know. But the midwife even said that sex is the best way to induce labor because of the prostaglandins in your semen.”

“You make it sound so sexy.”

“Frankie,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a deep sigh. “I am the size of a house. I am miserable and sweaty and I haven’t seen my feet in months and I just want to have this baby already. If it’s my belly, I can turn around-”

“You are fucking gorgeous.”

“Then please?”

Frankie studies you for a long moment, his shoulders starting to slump and that’s when you knew you had him. “Alright, fine. We can try it. But we’re going slow, taking our time, ok?”

“No arguments here.”

Contractions started within an hour of Frankie cumming inside of you. You weren’t sure at first what you were feeling, but it sort of felt like a bad period cramp, so you assumed this must be it. Frankie timed them all for you, helping you breathe as they got more intense and closer together, and when they were close enough apart, Frankie helped you to his truck and drove to the hospital. In between contractions, you watched him as he drove, expertly winding his way through traffic, a look of focus on his face, a little furrow between his brow the only indication that this was not a normal day behind the wheel. How lucky you were to have this man, who can be calm in stressful situations, want to spend his life with you. 

“What?” Frankie glances sideways at you before turning back to the road.

“You’re cute when you focus.”

A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Remember how cute I am when you’re in transition.”

Before you know it, you’re in a labor and delivery room, barely spending any time in triage before they whisked you away. Hospitals can be a frustrating place to have a baby. Each nurse walks in and tells you to rest between contractions, try to get some sleep when you can, but then a new nurse comes along within an hour, always rousing you from sleep to take your blood pressure or put their fingers where you didn’t want them. You’d finally had enough of the latter and told a nurse to kindly fuck off, and denied internal exams unless it was a medical emergency. Frankie was by your side the entire labor, putting counter pressure on your hips when you needed it, pulling your hair from your face, sneaking you snacks because they forbid food and you said you’d chomp off your own fingers if they didn’t let you eat. Transition was hard, but all of a sudden, you knew it was time to push. Following your body, you get on all fours, taking your calming breaths, but then realizing that Frankie was not next to you. Turning your head, you see him, wide eyed and backing towards the door.

“I’ll just-” He points his thumb over his shoulder at the door.

“No, please. I need you here with me.” Another contraction has you breathing again and it’s a minute before he replies.

“You want me here?”

“Yes. I need you, Frankie.” 

His eyes start to water over and it doesn’t occur to you then, but later that night it’l come to you - he wasn’t trying to dodge out of the delivery. He was having a flashback to when Elizabeth kicked him out of the room right when Aurelia was making her way into the world, and your heart hurt all over again. Frankie is at your side in an instant, turning to yell for the nurse who had surprisingly not come in for some random check.

“No time!” You yell, letting out a low groan, a technique you learned to help move baby down and out. Frankie’s face slides into focus mode and he moves behind you, just in time to catch the baby as it comes sliding out. He gathers the baby up, holding it close as it screams into the world. The nurse comes running in then, having heard the baby crying as you turn onto your back, arms outstretched to hold your baby, skin to skin.

“Baby is here! I didn’t even know you were transitioning! You were pretty quiet.”

The nurse bustles around and does her thing while Frankie transfers the baby to your bare chest. Tears stream down your face as you look at Frankie, who has tears of his own. He kisses the top of your head. “I am so proud of you, Hermosa.”

A few moments pass, the baby calming against your chest. “Hey Frankie? Is the baby a boy or girl?”

He slaps his hand to his forehead. “I forgot to look! I was so focused on catching the baby and whether it was breathing and not dropping it that I don’t think I looked! Here.” He lifts the hip of the baby and smiles.

“We have a son. I have a son!”

—---No more labor/delivery details—---

Luis Christian Francisco Morales was born perfect. 10 little fingers and 10 little toes, skin glowing. He was the perfect combination of you both, although you say he favors Frankie mostly. 

You both settle into your roles as new parents, a lot of it being new to Frankie too, since Elizabeth had denied him so much. He was determined to not miss out on things this time, making sure you both had everything you needed and watching Luis when he stayed awake between feeds so you could have a nap. Aurelia cries the first time she sees Luis, big ugly sobs, and when Frankie finally calms her down enough to ask what’s wrong, she simply says “He…he’s…s-so so cute!” She happily takes up the mantle of “Big Sister” when she’s with you. Once, you wake from your nap only to find all 3 of them sleeping, Luis curled up on Frankie’s broad chest, Aurelia tucked onto his other side. You snap a photo and then quietly leave the room, taking the time to actually shower. 

About a month in, Frankie comes back from dropping Aurelia with her mom. His eyebrows were pulled together in confusion as he stares down at his phone.

“Everything ok?” You ask, shifting the bottle you were feeding Luis with so it was a better angle.

“Yeah. Uh…Santi just texted me.”

“Oh yeah? Everything ok?”

“Uh..he says congrats on Luis, that he’s the cutest, and that he was out of service for a bit and he’s sorry he didn’t text earlier.”

“That’s ok. I know he’s busy.”

Frankie is quiet for a moment. “He offered me some work.”

“Work?”

“Well, not just me. Benny, Will, and Tom too.”

“What kind of work?” When he doesn’t answer, you look up at him. He kicks his shoes off and sits next to you on the couch. 

“Consulting.” His eyes don’t meet yours, focusing instead on his fingers, where he starts to pick at the skin around his nails.

“Consulting.” You say in disbelief. 

“Yeah.”

“Wait, like a mission?”

Frankie shrugs. “No? I mean, it’s just scoping out a place and looking for weaknesses. We give our report to the government he works with and then come back. Easy peasy.” 

“If it’s so easy peasy, why aren’t you looking at me?”

He takes a deep breath and let’s it out slowly before looking at you. “It’s for a week. Just trying to find holes in a fence.”

“And why do they need you?”

“They need a pilot.”

“You don’t have your license.”

“It probably doesn’t matter over there.”

“Frankie, I don’t-”

“I’ts $17k, Hermosa. We need the money.”

“I don’t like it. So much can go wrong. Who’s house is it? Definitely no one that’s a stand up citizen. What happens if they find you first? No, I don’t like it.”

“Just..he’s coming to town tomorrow and we’re going to chat about it at Benny’s fight. Let me ask some more questions.”

“I don’t like it, Frankie.”

“I know. Just..let me talk to Pope.”

—----

It’s late the next night and you start to pace the floor of your bedroom, wondering when he’ll be back. He’d texted you to tell you Benny had won the fight and they were stopping at the bar for a quick drink before Olivia takes him home to play nurse. 

That had been 2 hours ago.

The door finally opens downstairs and you quietly make your way to the kitchen, where you were hearing Frankie move around. 

“Did I wake you?”

You shake your head. “I was awake. Luis is asleep.”

“Good, good. He go down ok?”

“Yeah, actually in his bassinet, but Frankie? How did it go?” 

He gets a glass of water, chugging half of it before setting the glass down on the counter. “It’s just a recce. No live fire.”

“There’s a possibility of people shooting at you??”

“I mean, we are casing a place. It’s always possible if guards see you or-”

“No.”

He looks at you. “Hermosa, we need the money.”

“No.”

“I don’t have a job. We need this.”

“No money is worth your life, Frankie. None of your lives.”

“I won’t be in any major danger. I’ve done worse.”

“Yeah but you didn’t have a family then.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No. No, I don’t like this, no.”

Frankie puts his hands on his hips, cocking one hip back as he looks at you. “We’re behind on bills.”

“So? I’ll borrow some money and you can stay.”

“Hermosa-”

“Or I can get another job? A new client. I can-”

“You just had a baby, so no.”

“Then I can-”

“Hermosa.” He says it firmly, that hip still cocked back as his eyes find yours, resolve in them.

“You’ve…you’ve already said yes, haven’t you?”

His tongue comes out to swipe across his bottom lip. “We leave Thursday.”

Silence stretches between you both as you stare at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you made that decision without me.”

“I made the decision for us. We need the money.”

“Oh, fuck you and the money! I said I could borrow it. You’re just being stubborn!”

“I’m taking responsibility! We needed money and this just happens to come our way? I have to take it.”

“So you’re saying it’s fate that Santi texted you to lure you down there with the promise of $17k? You’re telling me that it’s just consulting and nothing else? Can you promise me that?”

He shrugs. “That was the original deal.”

“But can you promise me?”

He studies you for a moment, his eyes lingering on yours. “I’m going, Hermosa.”

And with that, you turn on your heel and walk out of the kitchen, closing the door behind you, wishing you could slam it. 

The next couple days were torture. You kept trying to convince Frankie to stay, convince all of them to stay. You didn’t want any of them going. But they all said the same thing that Frankie said. “It’s just consulting.” Thursday morning, Tom comes to pick up Frankie pretty early. He leans over to kiss you in bed and you take one more shot at trying to get him to stay. Your fingers wind into his curls as you pull him to you, deepening the chaste kiss he had started. 

“You can still stay,” you say, your voice barely a whisper.

“I’ll be back in a week, Hermosa. I love you.”

Tears streaming down your face, you reply. “I love you too. Please don’t die. Don’t any of you die.”

Frankie chuckles. “We’ll be fine. I’ll call you in a couple of days once we’re settled, ok?”

—----

Except, Frankie did not call in a couple of days. Neither did any of the others, nor had they reached out to Stacy, Molly, or Olivia. There was no one to call, no contact. They needed it that way for whatever consultation they were on. Stacey brought the kids over and Olivia came too, all of you opting to stay together and support each other at least during the day. As the few days stretched into a week, which stretched into nearly another, Olivia split her time between you and Stacy’s, offering to watch the kids so you each could have a moment to yourselves. She was at Stacy’s tonight, Luis snuggled and tucked in beside you as you channel surf the tv, landing on nothing in particular. It was day 10 and about 2am so all of the infomercials were on. You landed on one for some random kitchen gadget when your phone rings. You jump, grabbing for your phone to quickly hit the silent button before it wakes Luis. It was an unknown number, but definitely foreign and so you pick up right away.

“Frankie?”

“Hermosa,” he breathes a sigh of relief, his voice wavering on the last syllable of your name. 

“Are you ok? Is everyone alright? Fuck, I’ve been terrified out of my mind.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. Things got…out of hand. I can explain more when I get home.”

“I understand. But you’re ok?”

“I’m ok. A little banged up but ok.”

“Everyone else?”

The way he’s silent has your throat closing up, making it difficult to speak. “Frankie?”

“It’s Tom.”

While Tom and you never were best friends, there’s no way you would’ve wished death on the man, nor would you have wanted to have his girls without a father. 

—----

Frankie’s mom takes Luis while you drive to the airport, there to pick up Frankie as Olivia and Stacy were going to get Benny and Will. You had experienced all of the emotions these past 10 days, mostly anger and fear, but when you heard his voice, a part of you caved. You just wanted him home and were grateful that he was alive.

You spot Benny first, towering over a majority of the crowd as people file out security and head towards baggage claim. Then you see it - a dark blue standard heating oil cap bobbing next to Benny and suddenly, you’re running, pushing people out of the way as you run towards him, Frankie seeing you at the last moment, dropping his bag to gather you in his arms, burying his face in your hair. Olivia and Stacy copy your actions, Will hissing when Stacy throws her arms around him. He mutters “I’m ok.” before pulling her to him. Pulling back, you look up into Frankie’s black brown eyes, taking in all the features of his face, his laugh lines, the spot where his one dimple pops up, the fact that he had the audacity to shave his beard. 

“You shaved,” you said simply, running a finger along his jawline.

“Yeah. But I’ll grow it back just for you.”

His lips crash to yours, his hands cupping the sides of your face as you press your body against his, fingers twisting in his shirt. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you breathe out between kisses.

“Fair enough.”

Hugs were exchanged all around before everyone went to their homes. On the drive home, Frankie tells you everything, how it was just a consult but then they decided to try and do it themselves, how it would’ve all been fine if they hadn’t missed their window, or if Tom had listened when he said it was too much weight for the helicopter. 

“Wait..you crashed?” 

“Yeah. It was just a little crash.”

“Frankie!”

“It’s me. I landed us…mostly fine. We all walked away.”

He explains about the money and the people from the village, and how they had to trek up the fucking Andes mountains and down the other side. How a young man from the village had wanted revenge and got it, dying himself in the process. How they carried Tom down the side of the mountain, leaving a ton of money there, only to make it to safety and come back with a new chopper to get the money and safely make it back in a whole other country, which is where he called you from. By the end of the story you’re silent, tears quietly falling down your face as you realize how easily they all could’ve died on the side of those mountains. How one of them did. 

“We each put about $5mil in a trust fund for Tom’s girls, made sure Molly was taken care of. It’s what Tom would’ve wanted and it’s…it’ll never be enough.”

“Hey,” you squeeze his thigh and he looks at you, tears on his cheeks. “You are not to blame. Every one of you knew what you were doing, knew there were risks. And while I can’t say who shot first as I wasn’t there, Frankie, it was self defense. And, I’m sorry, but knowing you and knowing Tom? I’d bet money on him shooting first.”

Frankie nods. “Yeah I guess so…. are you mad at me still?”

“I was all prepared to be so pissed at you, but honestly? I’m just glad to have you here and alive.”

Frankie spends the next hour between your legs and you spend the hour after that washing his hair and tending to his arguably minor wounds. Once you were clean and dressed, you made him something to eat, as you’d have to go get Luis shortly. When you set his glass of water down, he grips your wrist, pulling you into his lap.

“How are you feeling? Do you need to call your sponsor?”

He shakes his head. “Surprisingly, no. I think I’m just so grateful to be alive. And there’s one more thing.”

“What?” You ask nervously.

Frankie leans in closer, speaking low in your ear. “We got the rest of the money.”

“The $17k?” You said stupidly.

Frankie smiles and shakes his head. “A lot more than $17k.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“Millions, Hermosa. Each. Millions. We’re set for life, as are Luis and Aurelia.”

“Can we stay here?”

Frankie chuckles. “What?”

“I don’t want some giant mansion. I want to stay here. In our house.”

Frankie smiles and kisses you lightly. “We can do whatever you want to.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Besides take care of my family?”

“Besides that.”

“Once I get my license reinstated, I want to start my business.” His eyes light up as he talks about it, how he had already looked into getting retired choppers, and had gathered up some possible contacts, even scouted out some property. The only thing that had stopped him was the money, which was no longer an issue. 

—----

6 months later, Frankie’s license gets reinstated, the owner clapping him on the shoulder and apologizing for everything. A month later, Frankie opens Chopperz, his veteran owned and operated helicopter tour business. It’s a instant success - apparently people really want to experience flying in various retired military equipment being flown by actual veterans. He even has repeat customers, although a lot of them are women and you catch more than one of them blushing when he talks to them. 

Will and Stacy build a new house, much bigger to fit their expanding family, ecstatic that they were finally having a girl. He quits giving speeches almost immediately, staying home with his family and helping Frankie out when he needs it. 

Benny and Olivia confessed that they had actually gotten married the day after Benny’s last fight, not able to wait any longer. When he came home, they took off to travel the world while their dream house was being built just down the road from Frankie and Will. 

Santi went to Australia to find Yovanna and her brother, following them around until they got settled. He and Yovanna stayed together for a while, and he took some time for himself, wandering the world to see things when he wasn’t in a uniform. He eventually came back, building a house down the road from Frankie and the Millers. But to his first get together with everyone, he brought a girl, which wouldn’t have surprised anyone, but you could see the way he looked at her, constantly touching her lightly, pressing kisses to her head, shoulder, lips, anywhere he could. And she was doing the same, her eyes lighting up every time they looked at each other, so when you asked him later, away from everyone else, he scratches the back of his neck and admits that he thinks she’s the one, that she gets him, understands him, and doesn’t give a flying fuck about his money, which she didn’t even know about until now.  

Frankie and you were finally happy, after all these years. Elizabeth finally stopped her shit, leaving you and Frankie to be happy and only communicating when it regards Aurelia. Instead of moving, you decide to expand your house, adding another couple of bedrooms because you want to eventually expand your family. Frankie is beyond happy, smiling at Luis and Aurelia as they run around their new treehouse in the backyard, feeling you wrap your arms around him from behind, kissing his broad back before moving to stand next to him, his arm around your shoulder as you both watch your kids.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, turning your head up to him.

“How happy I am. How I wish we had started this all sooner, that it didn’t take such a shitty road to get here, and that it didn’t take us this long.”

You reach up and cup his face, pulling him to you as you kiss him, his soft lips lightly nibbling at yours. 

“I’ll always wait for you, Frankie.”

—----  

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[delta-pavonis]

Dream Journal Rescue for the wip game, please

WHOO! Thank you for asking about this one, Nonny.

For the 2022 Dreamling Secret Santa I took a risk and wrote something that can be very divisive in fanfic and in fiction in general: first person narrative. I wrote the first half of i had a dream (i got everything i wanted) as a dream journal that Hob used to record his dreams after they came back when Dream got out of the fishbowl in 2021. It draws both from the early comics and from the TV show in terms of events/timeline. This fic got significantly less attention than the others I had written at the time, but it was also the one I was most proud of that year (and that's with Eros in Pragma and Hypnopompia turtur in there!). I am still extremely proud of it because it is, for me, I think very poetic writing. However, the first version of i had a dream wasn't post-fishbowl, but actually started before the fishbowl. Hob still kept a dream journal, and it still started in first person, but the idea originally was that Hob would figure out that something had happened to his Stranger because of his dreams stopping. Which meant that they needed to have enough of a relationship/rapport by the 1910s that Hob would trust that Dream would not miss a dream "date" of theirs without very good reason. Hence, "dream journal rescue" as the name. I only have pieces of the fic, but I keep them because I still viscerally love what I did with i had a dream SO FUCKING MUCH that I want to return to that style at some point. If you have read i had a dream you will see the bits I took from this and transferred to that.

This is totally G-rated and starts before 1889, as Hob is anticipating that next meeting, and then keeps going into 1914. Here's what I have in that WIP file:

1:

21 October 1885

I think I need to write these down. Olive suggested I start writing these down. She is usually right about such things.  

Maybe it will bring some clarity to this… mess. 

I’m in the White Horse Inn. (It is always the White Horse.) 

The year is not obvious from the decor, which is a riotous mix of 1389 and 1489 and 1789. Delicate teacups and straw-covered floor and fireplaces with chimneys. Of course chimneys. But I know, in the way of dreams, that it is the day of our annual appointment, the next one, in 1889. 

I shake my coat and hat free of the London morning rain. I am many hours before the time of our appointment. This my usual - I always arrive early. To ready the table and, more importantly, myself for our meeting. 

But in this dream I enter the White Horse to find the Stranger already there. He looks exactly as he did in 1789. Which must say something about my imagination since he has always been in impeccable fashion specific to the era of our meeting. 

Or perhaps it is because he looks at me with the same burning intensity that made our last appointment so spectacular. His eyes devour me, just as they did when we parted last, and I am absolutely helpless to resist.

I am sitting then, across from him, cups of tea and venison pasties between us. His beautiful pale fingers trace around the gilded edge of the teacup. I am speaking, words tumbling forth, I can hear the droning vibrations in my ears and throat, but it is not where my attention lies. 

My attention is riding the wave in his coalblack hair. My attention is wafting the bob of his throat above his high collar. My attention is tracing the sweet pout of his pink lips. My attention is flying through storm-sky eyes. 

He reaches across and

Fuck. I can’t write this.

2:

[There are several attempts at starting entries after the previous one. None manage more than a sentence.]

[No attempts at entries are made after 1889.]

3:

1 November 1898

I woke up still drunk and still in very rural Wales (note: never ever always maybe return for Nos Calan Gaeaf in the future) and found this old journal in the bottom of my trunk, so I suppose I shall once again make a valiant attempt to take dear Olive’s advice to sort out the dreams of my Stranger that ever plague me.

(I have heard tell of work by a man named Freud who claims dreams can be used to better understand someone’s psychology and potentially even relieve psychosis. He'd have a field day with me. May I never come within 400 miles of him.)

My drunk mind lacks creativity for scenery and so when I sleep this night I find myself in the same village square I was in only hours prior… however, I am back in time about 400 years? Long before the industrialization of the region, before the extermination of these old traditions by the expansion of “civilization.”

I have just won the silly harvest mare from the clutches of the other young men bringing the last of the harvest in, a horse-shaped horror made from the final stalks of grain reaped. I am now expected to try to sneak this rustling beast into the home where the bulk of the feast is being prepared by the womenfolk without one of them dousing me with washwater. If I succeed in getting into the kitchen unscathed I will win their finest beer and an honored seat at the feast-table. I am always up for new games.

(This is all Iwan’s fault for convincing me to accompany him home for the holiday yesterday and for me getting drunk while they all told me stories of the Old Days. Let it never be said that I abandon a friend in their time of need.)

I easily weave through the crowds of women and children, in their dresses and aprons and smocks, clothing I haven’t seen in centuries but are still as real as yesterday, and cross the kitchen threshold only to find the room empty. An empty kitchen except for the crackle of the hearthfire and my Stranger sat on a barrel in front of it. 

The large fire paints him in oranges and golds and he looks warm and inviting in a way that I have never experienced outside of my mind. It is the moment I know for certain that this is a dream. 

When he looks up to me he appears confused, brows drawn, lips parted. 

I am the first to speak, although words do not come easily to me. “What…?” After our parting in 1889 I can scarce understand why I am seeing him before me now. Although nightmares of the night plagued me in the months afterwards, I had been blessedly free of any night-time visits from my Stranger for almost a decade now. It has been an unexpected boon after so many years of dreaming of him more carnally. I know these facts within the dream. “Why are you here?”

He doesn’t stand, cranes his neck back to look up at me, and I realize he has a low collar this night, lower than it had been even in 1489. I can see flame-gold arcing around the shadowed hollow of his throat.

“It is a Ysbrydnos.” He explains in perfect Welsh, as if I am some child. I do not question why I can so easily understand him despite my mediocre grasp of the language. It is a dream, after all. “Many call on me such nights.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yes, ‘tis a Spirit Night and you a spirit.” 

He tilts his head to the side, bird-like and distinctly not human. “Not as such. But I will attend the dreams of many who call me here this night.” The Stranger’s voice is just as rich and decadent as it is in person. This detail my memory - traitorous bastard it is - does not neglect. 

“Of course. Even the version of you I make for my dreams gives non-answers and evasions.” I can feel my whole body hunch in defeat. I wrap my arms around myself, look to the floor. “Just why…” Even my dream cannot steady my voice. “Why does my mind show you to me now? Why this torment?”

“Ah.” Now his voice is choked and staccato. “You did not call me here yourself this night.” Perhaps he is surprised, or ashamed, I cannot tell. 

Still, I want to scream. “After last time…” I grit my teeth and continue to stare at the floor. 

I see the toes of his black shoes enter my field of view. His chest is perhaps a handspan from mine. “Do you truly wish to never dream of me?” This inquiry is a mocking echo of his usual question, but there is no mockery in his tone. “Given…" He shakes his head, unable to say the words. Say the words he should say: Given what I did to you… Instead he restarts the sentence, "It would be well within your right to request it.”

I sigh. He almost sounds remorseful. What a fantasy this is. How contrived. “No.” And if I ever doubted before that this was a dream the tiny bits of relief I see wash over my Stranger confirms it. His eyes soften minutely. His shoulders relax a hair's breadth. “This might be the only chance I have to ever see you again. And I would take the machinations of my mind, I would take delusions of your regard, over nothing.”

He hums, looking back to the fire as he takes a step away from me. I feel cold and bereft. “This dream is over.”

And then I woke up.

3: 

1 Nov 1898  I have not dreamed of him in six months. one year.         three years.         seven          ten          fifteen 

4:

25 May 1914

After almost 17 years I found myself dreaming of the White Horse last night and when I focused upon it in my mind’s eye I almost burst into tears.

Wait, Olive always said that this was more effective if I narrated as if I was reliving the dream. That I would get more details back that way.

I begin the dream standing outside the White Horse Inn and knowing that I am dreaming. It is the first time I have begun a dream this aware and therefore it is noteworthy. 

When I enter I feel his presence before I see it. Through the doors in the back, to the private room that had been set aside for us in 1789. He is once again in front of a fireplace, standing this time, hands clasped at the small of his back as he looks down into the flames. 

(Note: Ponder this pattern more later, that I associate him in dreams with fire.)

The door to the room automatically closes behind me and he turns. Despite the venue, he is dressed, as always, in the pinnacle of fashion. All black - of course - but a suit with long jacket and waistcoat and tie nonetheless. The ever-present ruby sits heavy and dark just below his throat.

“I did not intend the delay, Hob.” And doesn’t that throw me for a loop. I did not know prior to that moment that one could get dizzy in their own dreams. “I sometimes forget that time flows… differently… for you humans. But I did think on our last conversation.”

Thirty questions stampede through my mind at once. Everything from ‘Did he just directly admit that he is not human?’ to ‘Which last time?’ I throw all of these aside and instead opt for a cautiously lilted “And?”

A magnanimous wave of his hand and we are sitting, the same tea and sweets that were present in 1789 grace the table between us. I hold my breath. “Perhaps we can pick up, as much as we can, where we were in 1789 before the Lady Constantine interrupted us.” I am so taken aback by the turn this dream has taken that I cannot for the life of me think of what to say next. Luckily, my mind does not require me to as he continues. “I believe you asked my name.”

I almost fall over myself to give him leave to avoid it. “Only if you wish it.” Just don't leave again.

He smiles, something brighter than usual, and it feels like looking into the Sun. “I have a list of titles, which we can get to later, but the simplest name is Dream.”

I clamp down on the anguish that’s in my throat, but it still comes out as a high-pitched wheeze from between my teeth. “Dream?! DREAM?!?” I let myself slump boneless into the chair, impropriety be damned, and splay my legs out in front of me, hands over my face. “Oh fuck my mind and these GAMES. Why can it not send me sweet dreams of you? Of COURSE you are named Dream… you are a dream! Has my subconscious no creativity? Christ in heaven…”

“Hob!” He shouts. He has never shouted at me before. I look to him through my fingers, meet twilight-blue eyes. “My name is Dream of the Endless and I am the King of Dreams and Nightmares.”

Shock, bright white and violent, runs through me and I quite literally fall out of my chair.

And then I wake up.

5:

26 May 1914

I do not think I have ever been more wrong about something in my long long life.

Fuck. 

My Stranger is Dream. He lords over dreams and nightmares. They are his Domain, his Kingdom. 

F U C K

I knew that he was something Other. But this. This. 

We met again last night, in my dreams. I don’t need to work at this anymore (thanks for trying, Olive) because he asked me last night if I wanted to remember this, remember meeting him. Apparently he has some manner of control over such things.

I told him yes. Of course I said yes. But I think I want to continue to keep track of what has happened, what will happen, in my dreams, here in this journal. If only so that I have something to refer to later when I have absolutely zero confidence that this is real. Some proof that I haven’t gone completely barmy. 

Last night we talked. Just talked. It was in a liminal space, barely distinct as containing a floor and walls and chairs. All monotone, in blacks and greys and faint whites. It still reminded me of the back room from 1789.

He - Dream - told me so much. More than he had ever said to me in one go ever before. He told me some of his other names: Lord Morpheus (or just Morpheus), Prince of Stories, Oneiros, Shaper of Forms. He has a kingdom, home to dreams and nightmares alike. They are not only his citizens, but he creates them. Creates!

I have so so many questions.

But I must parcel them out carefully. Each answer is a treasure I will hoard. 

I returned his generosity with words of my own.

[ppenguinpperson]

cardiomyocytes and connective tissue @nopanamaman

I’ve wanted to do a fic like this for some time now, a ‘thank you’ letter to PAFL and its community of sorts. I’m happy I finally got around to writing it:) 

I wasn’t sure whether I should do this or not, but, hey! It might make someone feel a bit better!! Or, reading the fic will. That’s enough reason, I think, and you don’t have to read this, of course, no matter who you are.

First of all, I want to talk about PAFL a bit.

The first PAFL song I listened to was PiP. I saw its thumbnail when listening to some other music youtube, and so, I listened to it. Oh boy am I glad I did:) I remember thinking how cool it is that someone's making songs for their OCs and that people are interested in them. I could see so much love for the characters in it. I was so happy when I discovered there were more songs like that!! This was around when Comfort Zone had first come out, a week or two after at most. That was two years ago. I’ve been obsessed ever since.

I love PAFL. I genuinely love that songs haven’t been coming out much lately. Like, there’s media that comes out weekly and sucks shit. I’m glad Ferry is taking their time with this!!! Even if all we get each year is one song, that’s cool, because the community is wonderful and we also get doodles and art and now patreon stuff.. yippee yay… !!! And even if we didn’t. who the fuck caressss!!!!! I love coming up with AUs and OCs and theorizing with my friends!!! the time between songs gives us time to do all that:)

The characters are so charming. Every member of the cast has been a fave of mine at some point or another. They’re all so, real! I love them! I love how they fuck up and I love how they get fucked over and I love how they get exploded and killed and shot and hugged and saved and helped!!! They’re human… might not make sense, but i rlly do like them…

It’s so neat looking back at older songs and seeing how stuff’s changed. The art style, the music, it’s all so nice to look back on. Even if I wasn’t there for it.

And don’t even get me started on the worldbuilding..  Everyone say thank you to Boris Strugackij and Arkadij Strugackij for making roadside picnic and inspiring Ferry to make this… so lovely and neat. wonderful. I have not read it myself, but I might, just to be able to make my own pafl OCs more swagger..

So. This fic.

I can’t mention two years ago without at least mentioning my depression.

I can’t remember most of last year, speaking truthfully. Parts of 2021 are also fuzzy. Depression and anxiety are terrible, would not recommend. This feels cheesy to say, but it does get better!!! Slowly, unsteadily, it gets better!!! I don’t mean for this part of the post to be a ‘feel bad for me’ thing at all. Do not. I am safe and healthy now and I couldn’t be happier to be here right now.

Is life good now?? Sorta, but what matters to me right now is, I’m happy!!! It feels so surreal. I never thought I’d be like this. A part of me wants to be angry, to get depressed again about how I could have been happy all this time. But I won’t!!! Because then I’d spiral and forget another year, and, I don’t want that!

Which is so cool!!! I can like, fucking, do stuff now!! I can throw away the bad thoughts, embrace the good ones, encourage myself!!! I do things!!! I go outside and goddd dude that’s so good!! I go outside!!!

I’m doing stuff! I’m drawing, writing, cleaning my room, taking care of myself!!! If I didn’t stay alive to enjoy these small joys, what am I even here for?? 

And I’m alive!!! I’m here!!! I made it, I’m here, writing this on 10th november, 2023, and I’m ALIVE!!!! How cool is that??? 

And yea, the world is shitty, it sucks ass, but, my friends don’t!!!:3 and that’s more than enough for me… SHOUT OUT TO MY FRIENDS!!! I LOVE YOU DUDES!!!

Moving on:

It doesn’t feel right to say that I’m here now only to PAFL. But, what I can say is that it’s been a wonderful crutch for me!! It’s been something to focus on, something silly, but also something I can relate to, and something that inspires me to make my own stuff! I’d most likely still be here, were it not for these silly songs.. but, not sure I’d be as alive as I am now! Unsure if my heart would feel right in my chest! And I wouldn’t have met my amazing friends!!!! Everyone here is so nice.

Dima may be a bit OOC in this fic, and that's because! This fic is based on my own experiences, which, i don’t think is bad…

I could talk here forever about how it gets better. Butttt to be quite honest I don’t wanna lol. I just wanna say, Thank you! to Parties are for Losers, for being cool. 

(Though I also wanna say, don’t put Ferry on a pedestal, they’re human, we all make mistakes, all that stuff.)

Ok time to go back to my manly Sergei ways and never talk about emotions ever again. or as anya would say: FUCK IT WE BALL!!!!!

[chuwuyas]

about c&r

Hello my dear saioumers, it is I, jul chuwuyas. I wanted to stop by to talk a little bit about c&r since people ask me about it a lot

Unfortunately, to talk about it, I will have to dive into some personal stuff and share some things with you all that I've been keeping to myself for quite some time now and didn't really want to share, but felt like I needed to. So, since some stuff will be kinda, uh... serious? I will put everything under the cut

(TL;DR for those who don't wanna read about my personal life tho: c&r is NOT abandoned, but writer's block is not the only reason why I haven't updated the fic yet (tho it is one of them). I don't know when the hiatus will end. I'm sorry)

(CW for the things under the cut: mental illness, pet death, suicide ideation)

So, to start: yes, writer's block is one of the reasons why c&r is on hiatus. No, I have not been lying about it. I burned out so badly in 2021 that it's Still hard for me to write things that satisfy me because I reached my peak back then and was popping out 5, 6 fics in a month for 7/8 whole months when my usual is/was about 2 or 3 a year (if you check my ao3 page and the dates in which my fics were posted, you'll see that aside from the danganronpa fics, that usually was the case. I'm a slow writer). I'm still recovering. And the universe seems to not want me to.

Last year, around January, I felt like I was finally setting myself free from writer's block. I started writing something for my oc ship (yes, yes, I know. Not c&r. But what can I say? They bring me comfort) and I was so happy with what I got, so inspired to write, I was actually seeing the words on the doc again.

Then, one of my three cats got sick. Then, he died.

It completely broke me in a way I don't think I will ever recover. I was extremely attached to him and I drained all the money I had saved for therapy to try to save him, but it didn't work and I lost my cat, the money, and consequently my mental health. We spent almost an entire month taking him to the vet and bringing him back home because the vet kept telling us he was okay and then he'd get even worse and need hospitalization again, so that was more money spent on him. I had my friends help me with that, and I am immensely grateful even though it didn't work out in the end. Thank you for helping me bring him some comfort on his last days @ friendos.

After he died, a couple of months later, I tried writing again and managed to write a few thousand words, but my mental health still wasn't the best. Then, I started getting some personal problems that I will not talk about here but took a toll on me and shoved me back into the writer's block box, but now with the addition of increasingly growing self-doubt and depressive thoughts that soon turned suicidal.

Then, around September, another cat of mine got sick. And, this time, we didn't have money to help him.

He was my best friend. We basically grew up together (he was 13 and was born when I was 11, so I had him longer than I didn't have him) and I was also extremely attached to him. When he got sick, I would sit down on the floor and talk to him in tears asking him to hold on just until I got a job so I could pay for his bills. I didn't get a job fast enough to help him. It was me who found him, too.

From August to November, things were so bad in my life (between my personal life, my pets' deaths, and family members getting sick) I genuinely caught myself considering ending my suffering. Planning it. Thinking about it every day. Not wanting to wake up. It was a rough period of my life that I made it through alone because I didn't really tell anyone what was going on with me. I wished I could go back to the past. I wished I could change things to make the future not so bad. I'm still caught up in the past and nostalgic for a time that will not come back no matter how much I wish it would. But I pushed it through.

And one of the things that kept me from ending it all was the fact I haven't finished c&r yet.

I didn't wanna go without concluding the story. I didn't wanna go without showing you all what I have planned for the last chapter and how this story will end. So, I started using c&r as some sort of anchor — something to keep me going because I still have something to do on this earth before leaving. I love this story and I don't wanna leave it unfinished. I wanna see your reactions reading the last chapter, the freaking out, the key smashes, the DMs I'll receive, the theories, the fanarts. I love how big this story got and the little fandom it got for itself. People love something that I wrote so much they make art of it! They cosplay the characters, they write things based on it! It's so mindblowing that something like this would ever happen to me, I started telling myself: I can't die until I finish catch & release.

My mental health is way better now and I'm no longer considering suicide (though, ough, it sucks not having a lot of money). I have a job now and can pay for the vet in case my last cat gets sick. My personal life is good now, too, and my relative who's sick is doing a lot better. I have things to look forward to. Things are good now. I'm happy, though I still miss my cats every day.

I am, however, still using c&r as one of my anchors, and I don't know when I will stop doing so. So, for now, the fic is still on hiatus. But it isn't abandoned, and it will never be. I will finish it one day. So, until then, keep bearing with me.

Thank you for reading, and most of all thank you for understanding. I love you all.

[bestworstcase]

I found your blog via your post about yang and strength, got really interested, and then I ended up reading through a loooooot of your rwby commentary, and now I’ve got a question for you, if you don’t mind: Is it okay to want Penny to come back? I’ve read a lot of your analysis of her story arc and character, specifically that giant post you wrote about her in november 2021. i um, have definitely been guilty of wanting her to come back a whole lot. I’ve definitely done some frantic and outlandish theorycrafting to cope, but also I really do see what you mean about how her atlas arc is meant to be a tragic ending, so I don’t know how to reconcile my appreciation for the show’s story with my desire of just… really wanting to see her again?

This isn’t me asking you about whether or not she might come back because I’ve made my peace with whatever happens, this is just me asking if like… am I entitled or ungrateful for missing her so much that it makes me cry when such a wonderful story is being told in the show as a whole?

of course it’s okay!!!

the fact that her death had such a profound and lasting emotional impact on you speaks to the strength of the storytelling and the care that the writers poured into her character. tragedy aspires to incite the feelings you’re describing for the purpose of emotional release; catharsis is the whole reason tragedy exists at all.

you’re not just allowed to cry—you’re meant to. you’re supposed to care deeply that she’s gone. it matters. the story grieves for her and it’s inviting you to grieve too. when ruby breaks down over losing penny, it’s okay to be right there with her emotionally.

wanting her to come back or hoping that she might is a natural aspect of that feeling. theorizing—even in a grasping at straws kind of way—is a natural way to process that feeling. so is writing or reading “fix-it” fic or other kinds of AUs where penny survives or returns or never endured that ordeal in the first place. inherent to catharsis is the idea that letting painful feelings out is not only good but necessary for emotional well-being.

(you are also under no obligation to like every creative decision a story makes and it is entirely okay to feel like penny dying in v8 lessened your enjoyment of the story overall, if that’s how you feel. by no means do you owe it to any story to like everything about it just because it’s written well.)

what is entitled is the attitude held by a specific subset of hardcore penny 3.0 theorists that penny’s death was something bad that the writers did to the audience that they now have an obligation to “fix” or “make right”—often accompanying a sentiment along the lines of “why even bring her back if they were just going to kill her off?” and dismissal of her entire presence in the atlas arc as “just fanservice,” sometimes with the implication that the writers took advantage of penny fans only to stab them in the back.

the entitlement comes from the failure or refusal to recognize that the writer’s room does not revolve around what penny fans would like to happen (or indeed fans of any other character) and a narrative turn that upsets you is not something that the writers have done to hurt you. it’s entitled to act like the writers owe it to you to bring a character back to life, which was the general tenor of a lot of high-profile penny 3.0 discourse back in 2021 although the attitude has mellowed since then.

(& just in case: if you, personally, were in the category of penny fans who felt outraged or hurt back then and wanted to demand that the writers make it up to you by reviving her, and you’ve since reflected on those feelings and moved on from them to—as you say—make peace with whatever the story has planned, That Is Also Okay, and you should not beat yourself up over it. this is not something you need to feel guilty about.)

as for how to reconcile appreciating the story for what it is and still feeling like crying when you think about penny… i mean this completely in earnest, even if you’ve never written anything before in your life, try writing a fanfic where she lives or finds her way back or her friends manage to save her. not just reading or looking at fanart—i do think that there is really something to be said for making your own fanworks. writing or drawing gives you a degree of control over what happens in your story or artwork that you can’t get anywhere else and that can be a very comforting outlet when mourning a character.

you’re okay.

[straighttohellbuddy]

die mad about it {Dream/Reader/Sapnap} // Part 2

2. 2021

Summary: A retrospective on the interconnected timeline of Dream, Sapnap, and TV and film star Y/N, via social media.

2021. The year starts with Y/N's recent film racking up nominations during awards season, while Y/N themselves tries to work their way into getting into the DreamSMP. Dream isn't exactly thrilled with this, and he and Y/N appear to start beefing on Twitter. Sapnap moves in with Dream and his still-unknown housemate, but appears to be having a great time there, and Dream, in an interview, reveals that he's not technically single. Ft. mentions of the PSMP

Need to Know: Explicitly Non-Binary!Reader, early-20s!reader, reader is an incredibly well known film & tv star and has been living with Dream for several months/just over a year. Polyamory.

{ masterpost : 2 / 3 }

A/N: 6997 words. OH MY GOD ITS LITERALLY DOUBLE THE LAST ONE WHAT. also pretend its several months ago and i had this done on time please and thank you xx PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK I LVOE THIS FIC AND THIS STYLE OF WRITING EVEN IF IT TAKES ME AGES!!

Taglist: @esylwen @ihatesunfl0wers @theghostpeach @rainyaheysoe @magicastle @tidelqnds @icarusthefoolish @randokku @todaynotseen @moyo5653 @kittyfragsmini123666 @lacunaanonymoused @parkerpeanuts @sadredflower0000 @jay-being-weird @ronsbadidea @lacunaanonymoused @dreamtogether2000 @summerknights @mishthemess @lovejoywill @randosposts @stormy-skies-falling @gaysludge @hatchetislostpog @cryinghotmess @boiled-onionrings @busyfangirling12

Taglist is always open! Feel free to message or comment if you’d like to be added! xx

· JANUARY ·

At the beginning of January 2021, Y/N's tweet 'so glad they pushed back the SAG awards to march this year at my request, my boyfriend just moved in so im unavailable for the rest of the month' quickly followed by 'dont worry its not because i carried furniture and hurt my back or anything, my boyfriend helped him with all the heavy lifting, i just want to know i have several weeks to be domestic without being interrupted' caused chaos and confusion on Twitter, and they trended for the following 8 hours. After relative radio silence for twelve hours, the only tweet you chose to interact with was one that asked 'which is the side piece tho', to which you responded 'both i sleep in the middle 💙❤️🖤'.

Y/N also retweets a video originally posted on TikTok by user @.woolfenhawke; the woman in the video has dark skin and is wearing pale yellow pyjamas. The label at the top of the video reads 'millennial celebrity Y/N every single time they open Twitter Dot Com'. She starts facing away from the camera, and turns around suddenly, and the camera zooms in very quickly on her face as she lip-syncs to the audio of Tyler Oakley saying 'Hello LGBT community'.

----

The most popular fandoms in the character tag of Y/N Y/L/N are Actor RPF, HELIX (2020) RPF, Star Wars RPF, X-Men RPF, and American Horror Story (TV) RPF. The most common pairing is tied between Y/N Y/L/N/Amandla Stenberg and Y/N Y/LN/Evan Peters, followed closely by Y/N/Reader. However, since the beginning of January, there has been a steady increase in fan works rated Mature or Explicit featuring polyamorous pairings.

Reposted from Tumblr and quickly growing in popularity is the fanfiction '(in the absence of everything) i promise to keep you warm'. The first chapter was posted on November 24, 2020, one week after HELIX's public premiere, and has updated consistently in the following months. It is ongoing, at 13 chapters and approximately 45,000 words. It has the following tags; Explicit, Actor RPF, Y/N Y/L/N/Chris Evans/Pedro Pascal, Y/N Y/L/N & Amandla Stenberg, Y/N Y/L/N & Oscar Isaac, AU, Assistant!Y/N, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Movie Sets, Secret Relationships, Power Dynamics, Protective Chris Evans, Protective Pedro Pascal, Daddy Kink, Fluff and Smut, D/S Undertones, Service Top, Domestic Fluff, Social Anxiety, press publicity and paparazzi, Red Carpets.

---

Sapnap posts a photo of himself and Patches in order to announce that he's moved in with Dream and Dream's housemate. Not long after the official post goes up, two posts are added to his Instagram story.

The first is an piece of fanart of Y/N's character Woolfe standing back to back with who appears to be Technoblade from the DreamSMP as he's often depicted in fanart. Technoblade is wearing what appears to be the top half of a boar's skull as a mask covering his eyes, while Woolfe is wearing the angular, aesthetically cyberpunk mask that covers their mouth and looks like a wolf's nose and snarling mouth. The background is black while both characters are lit in sharp relief from either side, with Woolfe being lit in neon green, and Technoblade being lit in neon pink. Stretching across the whole middle of the piece in bold, white lettering is the quote 'If you want to be a hero then die like one.' The art piece is in landscape, A3, and framed and hung against a dark wall. The artist of the piece has been tagged, and across the top Sapnap has added 'proof of housemate's 'not a shrine' to technoblade' in pink letters.

The second is of a polaroid stuck to a dark wall, and an unlit but partially used candle at the very bottom of the image. The polaroid is partially obscured as Sapnap appears to have purposefully edited the photo to scribble in black over one of the figures in the photo to hide their identity. What can be seen in the photo is Sapnap, a little blurry, clearly laughing, half turned from the camera and positioned like he's leaning into someone with his arm around them. There is am arm around his shoulder that is unobscured, but their hand is cut out of the image and they are wearing long sleeves, so there is no identifiable features visible. Over the black scribble, in white text; 'a little bit of a shrine ❤️'.

----

"They travel a lot, the housemate travels a lot for work usually," one of the earliest streams Sapnap does after he moves is a somewhat indulgent Q&A while playing Valorant, "in like, chunks of time, a few weeks I guess? But when they're home they're still working, but usually in a way that's, I guess more similar to me and Dream? Like it'd feel weird and, I don't know, like arrogant, I guess? To compare our work? Usually at least. But because of how everything is, you know, a lot of their work is online, and like we have a schedule for who needs the house quiet at what times. That's- that's all I can really say. I know it's vague," he laughs apologetically, "but it has to be." Then, after a few moments of reading through chat he frowns, "can you tell us where housemate is now? I don't know if I'm allowed, hang on," he pulls out his phone and types away, "I'll ask." It doesn't take more than a minute for him to receive a response; "they're on the West Coast, that's all I'm allowed to tell you."

He does not address any of the numerous questions asking him to clarify the Housemate's relationship with Dream or himself.

· FEBRUARY ·

@.dreams-housemate-updates changes their twitter handle to @.dreamnaps-housemate-updates. Their header also changes to the meme image of Bugs Bunny, pointing with both hands to the right, overlaid with the communist flag, with the words "Our Housemate" in the centre.

----

@.YourTwitter: me and the boys at 2am looking for BEANS [Image ID: Y/N, Amandla, and the director of HELIX all posing on the red carpet for the Golden Globes.] | @.YourTwitter: BEANS acquired [Image ID: Two stills from the live broadcast of the Golden Globes, the first one being of Y/N and Amandla in the audience, leaning against one another and clutching each other, beaming and on the verge of tears as they are looking up, presumably at the stage. Y/N has their free hand up and partially covering their mouth. The second is of HELIX's director Robert Eggers on stage having just received the Golden Globe for Best Director of a Motion Picture. He has a hand to his heart and is using the Golden Globe itself in his other hand to point out into the crowd, presumably to Y/N and Amandla.]

HELIX was nominated for 5 Golden Globes in total, and won two; Best Director - Motion Picture, and Best Original Score - Motion Picture.

----

On Valentine's Day, you post one picture to your Instagram story. It's of a nondescript hotel bed covered in red rose petals. The duvet is black and neat, and the only caption you've added is white text highlighted with red in the top right corner; no shitposts today im actually in love.

----

It had been somewhat disheartening to be on set on Valentine's Day knowing you were so far from the two people you loved the most. It's been weeks since you were home, which only made it all the harder. The shoot went well, and you were glad to be messaging Dream and Sapnap through the day, even if you couldn't be near them.

Around lunch they tell you that they're sending flowers to your hotel, that it was meant to be a surprise but they'll need your room number, and that the hotel might call to confirm with you. As much as you love the gesture, it makes you miss them both even more, and you start browsing flights back to Florida on your phone in between takes, fantasizing about having the time to take off and see them.

The hotel calls in the afternoon, and you confirm that anything from your boyfriends has full permission to be placed in your room while you were gone. Sun will be setting in a few hours, there's no time left for your fantasy to come true, not if you wanted to remain professional.

There'd always be next year, you tell yourself.

You message to say that you miss them, and they respond in kind, both quick to assure you that there's always going to be more time, that one day wouldn't matter. Perhaps not in the long run, but today it felt like it did.

So when you get back to your hotel and see the rose petals on your bed, it feels too good to be true.

And when you catch sight of both Dream and Sapnap waiting patiently in the larger living space of the room, you feel yourself begin to tear up. They're both with you immediately, wrapping you up in their arms, endeared as they try and soothe you, murmur for you not to cry.

It's been a long day of heartache, thinking that you'd be without them, so it's all you can do to hold them tightly, a mess of laughter and cathartic tears as you tell them how much you love them both. You hadn't realised just how much you'd missed them until this moment, until you're peppering them with kisses and babbling about how this has gone from the worst day to maybe one of the best of your life.

"So far," Sapnap grins teasingly, kissing your temple. Dream echoes his words, echoes his tone, and you feel yourself growing flustered as your initial wave of shock and awe had died down.

Best day of your life, so far.

· MARCH ·

In early March 2021, the nominations for the 93rd Academy Awards are announced, and HELIX receives 6 nominations; Best Picture, Best Director, Best Original Score, Best Visual Effects, and Chris Evans is nominated for Best Supporting Actor. Controversy arises, however, as Y/N is also announced as a nominee for Best Actor.

A statement is released by the Academy the day after the nominees were announced, stating the decision as to which category they were nominated in was due to the technical broadness of the category, and that Y/N's team had been contacted prior to the nomination being confirmed.

A day after The Academy releases their statement, Y/N posts two updates to their Instagram story;

1. A blurry selfie taken in bed, sheet pulled up to their neck, giving the camera peace sign. Across their forehead reads 'its an honour to be nominated, im looking forward to the day that there's a category specifically for nonbinary actors and actresses so people like me don't have to be torn to shreds online when people try to acknowledge and appreciate us'.

2. A photo of a mostly empty plate sitting on their bedside table, covered in crumbs, with a knife and fork sitting in the middle. Their hand can be seen giving a thumbs up closer to the camera, and is captioned '"why didn't you respond before now its been two days????" sorry buddy i was getting my shit rocked and eating pancakes in bed. i knew it'd be a hot button issue online so i decided to celebrate the nom first. im allowed to celebrate my achievements ✌️'.

----

@gnflmnop: you remember that one time @.YourTwitter tweeted about the dsmp right before their movie premiered and then Never Again? Did I hallucinate that? | @YourTwitter: my boyfriends bully me whenever I go to tweet about it :( | @YourTwitter: they're mad about who my favourite is (it goes back and forth but they're never happy with who I say 😔) | @.YourTwitter: if y'all knew my boys this would be so much funnier, I promise this is all v lighthearted. | @.gnflmnop: Who's your current fav?? | @.YourTwitter: @.Quackity 🥰 | @.Quackity: HOLY SHIT

· APRIL ·

HELIX ends up winning four of the six Oscars it's nominated for; Best Director, Best Visual Effects, Best Original Score, and Y/N wins Best Actor.

Transcript of Y/N's winning speech from the 93rd Academy Awards for their performance in HELIX:

Before I start, I need to say something to the people like me - non-binary and trans people like me - beyond this room, watching this live or in the future; hi! Look! We can see it now, you can see me; the world is changing and our future is bright! [Brief pause.] Now, on January 4th this year, my ex-manager told me I was an unhireable PR nightmare, and tonight he decides to text me; congrats on the nom, for your own sake don't start a twitter tirade when you lose, Anthony Hopkins is eighty seven, he can't fight back. [They are becoming audibly choked up.] To that I say; don't you wish you put your energy into something useful? [Pause as they compose themselves.] Which is why I'm up here, thanking my amazing manager who actually believes in me, our whole incredible team behind HELIX, especially Rob and Amandla - you should both be up here with me, because I wouldn't be here without either of you. [They take a moment to clutch the Oscar to their chest, looking overwhelmingly grateful.] And the only thing better than this is knowing I get to see my wonderful, supportive, damn amazing partners after. My favourite place in the world is at home with you both, I love you. [Sniffling, they give a watery laugh.] This is a moment, isn't it? This is our moment. Thank you.

Given the immense exposure of The Oscars, Y/N's speech quickly goes viral. The backlash from the conservative side of the internet is immense, however the outpouring of support still manages to dwarf it. It's seen as a cultural reset, with 'the world is changing and our future is bright' being painted across every LGBT+ corner of the internet. Also, both the polyamorous and nonbinary communities specifically appear to adopt the phrase 'this is our moment'.

----

The following interaction occurred during a Just Chatting stream on Wilbur Soot's Twitch channel on the 30th of April, and can be found in the stream's VOD beginning at 53:46.

"Can I share something surreal with you all?" Wilbur asks, tone vaguely bemused as he was streaming with Tommy, Ranboo, and Philza, "lads, chat, can I share the most, I think unexpected reaction I've received after yesterday?"

"Unexpected how?" Ranboo snorts a laugh.

"Like, I think it was the emotion I was going for, but I never expected this person to contact me?"

"Oh interesting, who was it?" Tommy asked excitedly.

"Well, I mean, there's weird ways the SMP kind of breaches containment that makes me think 'ah, people lying for attention on the internet again'," Wilbur begins, and is met with stifled giggles from the others, who seem to know exactly what he means by that sentiment, "which I don't necessarily know why I think that, since most times it's kind of innocuous or makes a roundabout kind of sense, like a politicians kid getting them to tweet at us, but there was something a few months back that I heard about and I was like 'that's absolute bullshit'."

"You do especially seem to get a few weird ones," Phil agrees.

"And I don't usually get star struck; I'm not trying to brag here, but I've had - well, we've all had - some pretty high profile encounters here and there," Wilbur's voice was rising in intensity, as the others voiced their agreement, "but there was an interaction a few months ago, and I kind of shot my shot since I don't use Twitter and had my Discord passed on to this person, and nothing really came of it."

"Who was it, man?!" Tommy groaned, frustrated by Wilbur building up the encounter, much to everyone else's amusement. Wilbur pauses for a moment.

"Yesterday I received my first message from Y/N since we'd connected on Discord, after months mind you, and it's a selfie of them giving me the thumbs up, whilst clearly crying -"

"What?!" Several of the others in the chat exclaimed, Wilbur clearly matching their confused, startled energy.

"Right?! And you wanna know what the caption was? Here, I'll read it to you guys, it says; Wilbur, why am I crying about minecraft ghost."

Silence.

Then;

"Three days ago they won an actual fucking Oscar; what reality am I in right now?" He crows, still clearly baffled.

"That can't be real," Ranboo announced, sounding a little dazed.

"Why is Y/N Y/L/N crying about minecraft ghost, Wilbur?" Tommy practically yelled, "we saw HELIX together with Tubbo the last time I was in Brighton, I refuse to believe fucking Woolfe shed real tears over Ghostbur!" Then, after a beat, "oh God, and it was my fault too! I need to start writing an apology," he's clearly half joking, and the others play along.

"The character Woolfe?"

"No, to Y/N themselves," Tommy says, adding, "maybe if I ask Dream nice enough he'll take it back."

Not long after this conversation occurred live, the following was posted to Twitter;

@.YourTwitter: ooh lads, me and my parasocial relationship might not survive this one omg @.WilburSoot @.philza @.tommyinnit @.ranboo | @.ranboo: [GIF from Y/N's award speech at The Oscars; Y/N is holding their award to their chest, standing behind a podium. The caption at the bottom reads 'This is a moment, isn't it?'.]

And;

@.Dream: despite wishful thinking, no celebrity tears based twitter campaign will make me take back certain SMP based events. in fact if you tried i think id just double down and say certain minecraft ghosts got what was coming to them | @.YourTwitter: @.YourTwitter | @.YourTwitter: see its that easy to @ me. &lt;3 | @.Dream: didn't you win an oscar? please get a hobby | @.YourTwitter: dont vague me just because ur mad ur not my favourite | @.Dream: @.YourTwitter You make me want to smack you sometimes. | @.YourTwitter: hot. dm me. | @.Dream: Why are you like this? | @.YourTwitter: for the bit. <3

· MAY ·

@.enbyhawke: @.DreamWasTaken @.YourTwitter the people have spoken. Link to the Change.org petition 'Let Y/N Join The DreamSMP'] | @.YourTwitter: @.Dream the people have spoken 😌 | @.Dream: @.YourTwitter the people need to be quiet, I already told you no in our DMs. | @.YourTwitter: [GIF from Mean Girls of Regina George, phone to her ear, caption at the bottom reading 'Boo, you whore.']

----

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Other Fandom: HELX (2020), Dream SMP Relationships: Woolfe (HELIX)/Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) Characters: Woolfe (HELIX), Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) Additional Tags: PWP, what is this lol, crack, based on a twitter post, Eric Andre Voice LET ME IN but its woolfe and the dsmp, Power Imbalance, hate fucking, choking, spit, reluctant bottoming, degradation, so close to just writing RPF but im pretending to have dignity, ch 1 is afab!Y/N, ch 2 is amab!Y/N, otherwise the chapters are identical, just like every other smut oneshot with Y/N or their nb characters lol, the Y/N fandom etiquette is beautiful tbh we all know what we're doing here, WAIT c!Dream IS LITERALLY JUST A YOUNG VERSION OF CHRIS EVAN'S CHARACTER OH MY GOD, DOWN TO THE EXPERIMENTING ON PEOPLE AND KILLING THEM AND BRINGING THEM BACK Language: English Series: Part 1 of isn't bite also touch (HELIXsmp) · Next Work -> Stats: Published: 05-15-2021 Words: 4863 Chapters: 2/2

i'll tell you my sins (and you can sharpen your knife) FullContakt

Summary: There's a price to pay for clear intentions. Woolfe understands the roles and rules of this place and is happy to call themselves a villain, however the one who originally chose that title isn't exactly willing to give it up, so Dream decides to find out exactly how far Woolfe is willing to go for it.

Notes: Y/N and Dream's one online interaction makes me laugh so fucking hard, they're both so chaotic, I don't know who is the one with the audacity here. I think they both have far too much. But anyways, since im lowkey obsessed with the few HELIX/DSMP crossovers we already have here (literally never cried as hard as i did finishing starslikerhinestones's Woolfe/Wilbur MASTERPIECE 'a hero's job is to die'. seriously if nothing else please read it for Hawke being THE BEST OLDER SIBLING to tommy, as long as you don't mind tragedy and heartbreak) ANYWAYS seeing that interaction between Y/N and dream just made me think that Woolfe and c!Dream would HATE each other so here, they beat the shit out of each other... and yeh fuck a bit. Enemies-to-enemies-who-hatefuck.

----

Sapnap makes an offhand comment during a stream about how he's missing their housemate since they went to the UK. Dream seems to share this sentiment, joking 'and we didn't even get to swap them for George while they're gone, it's so unfair'. Both seem genuinely disheartened by the housemate's absence, but make a note of how proud they both are of everything the housemate has been doing.

----

From May 20th to May 23rd, the 'PenisSMP' or 'PSMP' trends on Tumblr as a shitpost directed at the Minecraft YouTube community, that flourished on the oft overlooked blogging platform, was quickly co-opted and expounded upon by said community.

In amongst its colourful cast and rapidly developing lore, several real figures were included and adopted into the kayfabe, including current members of the DreamSMP such as Tommyinnit (given the alias 'Wife_Haver' in the PSMP), and ConnorEatsPants, with no significant alterations to his already established character whatsoever, just that he existed in this SMP too. Alongside them, Y/N was quickly adopted into the lore and cast of characters with the in-game alias of '4rs0n_R1sk', as first mentioned in user @.localtubboenthusiast's post;

localtubboenthusiast literally why is anyone surprised that fvckass blew up half the server?? why is ANYONE surprised they keep setting fires??? they were literally hand raised by 4rs0n_R1sk!!! #who is literally being played by one of the most chaotic actors of our generation #this is why dream didn't let Y/N join the dream SMP #hes a coward #psmp #penissmp #penismp #y/n y/l/n #4rs0n_r1sk #fvckass the sheep #fuckass the sheep

And the follow-up question they received;

Anonymous asked: WAIT HOLD UP THATS WHERE I KNOW 4RS0N'S VOICE??? ITS Y/N????

localtubboenthusiast answered: yeah apparently they're friends with penis irl and asked if they could join out of spite after the whole dream refusing to let them into the dsmp thing 😂 can't believe they literally don't even stream they're just there lol

#also in case it wasn't clear i AM a PenisUnavailable And ShittyFartBaby69 Are Actually Y/N's Boyfriends truther #4rs0n_R1sk #Y/N Y/L/N #PSMP #penismp #penissmp

Fanart of '4rs0n_R1sk' usually depicts Y/N as either their character Woolfe from HELIX, or Contakt from The New Mutants with a warm colour pallet and fire powers. They are usually drawn with 'Fvckass the Sheep', 'PenisUnavailable', or 'TurboThruster'.

----

@.YourTwitter: went to dublin and all I got was spit on. they give you exactly what you ask for here, amazing customer service 🥰 | @.Ic3_Squared: Hey bestie some thoughts should stay in your head ❤️

· JUNE ·

I Spent A Day With DREAM was posted to YouTube by Anthony Padilla on the 9th of June, and the following exchange begins around minute 5;

Dream: God it's so weird, actually, because there's been these huge changes in my personal life that have happened, like, parallel to the whole YouTube thing, but are still significantly effected by it, if that makes sense? Anthony: What kind of changes to do you mean? Dream: Like, uh, I'm not fully sure if I'm able to talk about this, though I guess if this bit makes it into the video I've confirmed that I am allowed to actually talk about it, [Dream laughs] but I feel very lucky to currently be in the best relationship of my life, but like, I feel like that would have happened, like me- me and my- you know, [Dream stumbles over his words a little, as if to purposefully dance around the precise wording of the relationship] that would still be happened even if I never blew up.

----

📌 Pinned Tweet @.dreamnaps-housemate-updates: If Dream is dating his housemate that would be news to us too. We don't have any more information than anyone else on this matter. Please stop asking us, thank you.

----

On June 26th Twitter user @.goldenghostgirl asks you if you'd be watching Minecraft Championship (Pride), and who you'd be watching. You respond less than half an hour later with three consecutive tweets; 'me and my parasocial relationship will be watching pink parrots 😌🦜💓', then 'only because @.smajor didnt invite me to play which isn't his fault since he doesn't know I'm secretly very good at minecraft.... but just so you know... for next pride... 👀 👉👈' and finally 'im actually being legit here, minecraft as a game is far bigger in our house than I really let on, I'd love to prove my boyfriends' mentoring has paid off 💖'.

For MCC Pride, the team Pink Parrots is made up of SolidarityGaming, Grian, Wilbur Soot, and Technoblade. Highlights from their team during the event include;

Wilbur makes a point to say hello to Y/N at the beginning of the event as he figures they're probably watching. When providing clarification for the situation to the rest of his team in the VC he refers to it as 'mutually parasocial'. Wilbur also jokes about becoming an honourary member of Y/N's polycule. Y/N does not publically comment on any of this; it is not made clear if they saw it.

Technoblade mentions that Dream has been DMing him during the event, and that both he, and his housemate who isn't Sapnap, but is just happy to be here, are cheering them on.

Wilbur's fire alarm chirping aggressively, much to his growing frustration, until he has to disconnect as there is apparently an actual fire emergency in his building. He had to talk to the firefighters who arrived on scene in order to confirm that he was safe to re-enter the building. He is able to rejoin MCC.

In Wilbur's absence, there are several suggestions for a temporary replacement; Technoblade suggests Dream, Grian mentions that Y/N has put their hand up on Twitter, while Wilbur himself suggests Philza Minecraft. Philza ultimately becomes Wilbur's temporary replacement.

Philza breaking down with laughter when he reads your follow up tweet; "Don't look at me, I retract my statement. Coach, I was wrong I'm not ready for the big leagues, you shouldn't put me on. If you have the choice of Philza Minecraft of course you choose Philza Minecraft." He then adds, as his laughter dies down, that he understands now why Wilbur had called his interactions with you 'surreal'.

After the event concluded, you post one final tweet; "if any interviewer ever brings up today I WILL lie."

· JULY ·

On July 14, the final episode of Loki is released on Disney+. During one of the final scenes, after the timelines have all split and Loki is making his way to try and warn Mobius about what had happened, we see Y/N being dragged through the facility, clearly reprising their role as the mutant Contakt (Itta Marie) from 2020's New Mutants.

An hour after the premiere of the episode, Y/N tweeted twice;

1. 'oh yeah lol should update my IMDB about that'.

2. 'nd yeah dad acquired, for those keeping score at home' [Image ID: Y/N and Tom Hiddleston in costume as their respective characters Contakt and Loki on the set of the Loki series. They appear to be in an animated discussion between takes.

----

@.YourTwitter: there's no irl sdcc so no-one can stop me from cosplaying and doing some sort of Q&a.. need suggestions. And questions.

@.YourTwitter: imagine if I became a twitch streamer lol. anyways q&a here [Link to user PR Nightmare on Twitch.]

"Tommyinnit in my chat? Is this real?" You found yourself beaming with delight, "do you wanna join? DM me your Discord on Twitter, you're awesome, dude!"

"Are you cosplaying Ghostbur?" Is the first thing Tommy asks the minute you voice call him.

"I am!" You tell him with delight.

"Why?"

"I miss him," you admit freely. Tommy snorts a laugh, but the conversation trails off until, "it's so cool to talk to you finally, both my boyfriends speak so very highly of you."

"You're... a fan of mine?"

"I like your videos, yeah," you agree without hesitation, "and your arc is super compelling to watch on the SMP."

Tommy goes very quiet for several long moments before you hear faintly 'ow... ow... ow...'.

"Are you okay?" You ask, concerned, and Tommy hums for a moment.

"Sorry, just had to pinch myself a few times," then even as your laughing fondly, he continues, "still not convinced this is a real conversation I'm having."

----

@.dreamnaps-housemate-updates posted a clip from Sapnap's then-latest Minecraft stream on July 28th with the caption 'i love the way they love';

"What's been your favourite part of living with me so far?" Dream's voice is saccharine and teasing as he asks Sapnap live on stream.

"God, you're so needy," Sapnap laughs, though his tone is fond. While his focus remains primarily on his screen where he's playing Minecraft, occasionally his gaze will flick to something to his left, off camera.

"Thank you," Dream sounds quite smug, "but is that really your favourite?" In the silence that follows, Dream's tone takes on that saccharine tone as he prompts again.

"I mean if you twist it the right way, like with the right words," Sapnap sounds uncharacteristically soft, almost embarrassed, and seems to be intently focusing on his game with a faint flush to his cheeks.

"Twist what? Me being needy?" Dream half laughs, but Sapnap continues, sincere.

"I mean, I obviously wouldn't actually word it like that, but you're obviously the best part of living with you," he admits, a warm silence follows, and finally Sapnap looks directly at whatever is to his left, though he still appears to be addressing Dream when he speaks; "I'm not mentioning our housemate because they already look like they're a half second away from saying something emotional despite the fact that I'm live," he warns pointedly with a grin, as if to stave off the housemate in question. Then, after a moment, he softens his tone and expression considerably, practically radiating affection, "but you're the other best part about living here."

----

@.StardewwSoot: how long have @.YouTwitter and @.Callahan been mutuals? 👀👀

· AUGUST ·

@.YourTwitter: in Switzerland, finally able to add another Hot Hollywood Dad to my collection of father figures @.VancityReynolds

@.YourTwitter: ALSO PREMIERE OF FREE GUY AT THE LOCARNO FILM FESTIVAL!! DEFINITELY SHOULD HAVE LEAD WITH THAT!!

----

During an interview as part of Free Guy's press junket, an interviewer asks Joe Keery and Ryan Reynolds if either of them had met Y/N's partners.

"No, but I'm sure they're having a great time in Canada with my high school girlfriend," Ryan says without missing a beat as his younger costars break out in laughter. All three of them are grinning, a clearly easy comradery between them all, even as Y/N gives him a shove and insists their boyfriends are real. "Oh yeah, then what are their names?"

"I wish I could tell you, but I literally can't," you admit, a little sheepish, even as Ryan loudly proclaims that you're not making a strong case for yourself, "I wish- dude, I promise I wish I could tell you, but you wouldn't even begin to believe why I can't!" You insist once more.

----

@.yourtwitter: my toxic trait is every time I miss my boyfriends I read fanfiction about them and send them links to my favourites | @.yourtwitter: the reviews are in folks

[screenshot of a group chat titled '🎉 No Noise Complaints Since 8/23 🎉'. cat daddy: [screenshot of above tweet] cat daddy: your toxic trait is being funny when we're not able to publicly respond H0TB0I: your toxic trait is never specifying when you're missing us or being a menace Ryan Reynolds Lover: ????? cat daddy: @H0TB0I cranky because you skipped the tags and read mpreg aren't you Ryan Reynolds Lover: oh lol yeah no I was just being a menace when I sent that sorry 😅❤]

| @.asheeberree: WAIT PEOPLE WRITE FANFICTION ABOUT YOUR BOYFRIENDS??? WHO ARE YOU DATING??

Less than an hour later, Sapnap tweets out "our housemate just said 'pass me your phone I want to cause problems on purpose' so that's the only context I can give for whatever the next tweet is ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯" less than three minutes later, the following tweet is posted to Sapnap's alt account:

@.sapnapalt: dreamnap housemate here hello sap's twitter, I have a question. why are y'all sleeping on omega!dream and alpha!sap as concepts? I'm absconding with his phone so you have time to answer and I can see your responses before he deletes this 😘

· SEPTEMBER ·

A selection of articles and quizzes from Buzzfeed.com tagged Y/N Y/L/N in the month of September, 2021;

If Ever We Have To Elect A Representative For All Millennials, Here's My Pitch For It To Be Y/N

(Quiz) Plan Your Mission And I'll Tell You Who In The Mandolorian's Crew Would Be Your Bestie

10 Most Plausible Potential Secret Beaus For Y/N (And The Hottest Fanfiction For Each To Prove It)

(Quiz) Plan Your Ideal Date To Find Out Which Of Y/N's Hot Hollywood Father Figures Is Your Daddy

This Talented Artist Does Everything Right In Their Artwork Showcasing Their Fancast for The Breakfast Club In 2021

· OCTOBER ·

On October 3rd, you tweeted in rapid succession 'Callahan's my best friend now', 'hacker voice: im in', '@.Quackity heyyyy what are u doing rn? u free buddy?' and then a link to your Twitch account, where you were live on the Dream SMP.

The following is one of many short clips that you liked on Twitter after your Stream ended;

"Hey look at you go," Quackity laughs "you know your way around here better than I do; you weren't lying about watching us it seems."

"Yeah, well I play quite a bit with my boyfriends, since it's something they're really into, and they really got me into the SMP in the first place; they've been invested in this since day one," you said, smiling warmly before you leaned close to your camera and mic, "and now chat, you're gonna go ahead and clip that for me, and post it to twitter, so they can see it."

----

Dream and Sapnap both post photos to Instagram of several Halloween costumes they wear together. Most of the photos are just of the two of them, always with Dream entirely covered to continue obscuring his identity, but the final photo of both photosets is one of the housemate, for the first time in record.

They appear to be wearing a black hoodie, black gloves, black jeans, and appear to have borrowed the mask Dream has worn previously.

In Dream's Instagram post, the housemate is looking directly down into the digital camera they have around their neck, clearly having been taking the photos for Dream and Sapnap. The mask is lifted off of their face and sits on top of their head, however with the angle they are looking, the mask completely obscures their face and smiles directly at the camera.

In Sapnap's post, the setting is different to any of the other photos, as it appears to have been taken in a living room. Dream is still wearing the black hoodie and Squid Game mask, while the housemate appears to have fallen asleep with their head in his lap. Dream's mask is on the arm of the sofa, as is what appears to be a bright green hoodie. The housemate's hood is up while they're laying with their back to the camera so their face isn't visible. Dream is resting a hand on their hip and has his phone in the other, seemingly still using it despite his mask.

On Halloween itself, Y/N posts an image of themselves against a black wall dressed the same way as Dream appears in a few of the earlier photos he'd posted of himself, with a green hoodie, completed with a large, white, smiling mask. Both on Instagram and Twitter the photos is captioned 'this is my official apology to @.DreamWasTaken for breaking into his server'. Dream responds on Twitter telling you 'you're on thin ice....... lucky you're almost as cute as i am in that fit'.

· NOVEMBER ·

On November 11th, the trailer for the 15th season of sitcom 'It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia' is uploaded across the series' various social media platforms. The clip, that lasts just over one minute, appears to take place in Dublin, and includes indications that Y/N will play a reoccurring character throughout the season.

The two most notable clips are;

'Sweet Dee' seems gleeful as she informs Y/N that they are a great assistant, before immediately spitting upon them.

And;

"So we need you to clarify which of us is gay -" Dennis posed the question to Y/N standing close beside his sister.

"Mac, right? He's the gay, isn't he?"

"Yes," Dennis frowns, "but he likes men, and you are -" he gestures to their body, "not. However, if we," he gestures between himself and Dee, "both are trying to sleep with you, then one of us is gay," he paused, visibly deliberating, "or, well, not gay, but also not straight, since that would make this much easier for me, but for me to be straight you'd have to be a woman and you are -" again, he gestures to their body, "not..." Dennis clasped his hands together, tone growing almost furiously frustrated, as if at Y/N themselves, "so now, you beguiling little minx, have made us both potentially neither gay nor straight, you have turned us into Schrodinger's Fruits!" Waiting, breathing hard at the end of his outburst, it cuts to Y/N, visibly confused by the situation, brow furrowed.

Not long after the clips are posted, you retweet it with the caption 'show with the most BDE (big dad energy)' and a photo of yourself on set in Dublin in the middle of a cheesy group hug between the five lead actors of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Not long after, the show's official twitter responds with;

@.AlwaysSunny: Welcome to the family! [ID: Four stills from the upcoming season of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia; 1. Dennis clearly having taken Y/N by surprise, grabbing them by the shoulders and kissing them. Neither appears to be enjoying themselves; Dennis's entire expression is scrunched up like he's smelled something awful, while Y/N is so tense their arms are throw out to the side. 2. Dee and Y/N nose to nose, both staring intensely into each others eyes, the tips of their tongues awkwardly touching where they're poking out of their otherwise closed mouthes. 3. Charlie and Y/N both covered in mud, fully clothes in a bog up to their waists, passionately making out. 4. Mac leaning against a bar counter from behind it, beaming brightly at Y/N who is slouched at the back. Mac is gesturing proudly to four different coloured liquor bottles lined up in the order yellow, white, purple, black, thus making a side-on nonbinary flag. Y/N is giving the display a tired smile.]

----

@.YourTwitter: I honestly can't believe that on Halloween I celebrated a year with my dream boi, and like a week later I got to celebrate again with hot boi, just before the anniversary of HELIX. | @.YourTwitter: everything has happened so much this year, Im so proud of all the wonderful people in my life and all the projects we've worked so hard on!! | @.YourTwitter: omg this might have been the best year of my life..... | @.Dream: so far. | @.Sapnap: So far. | @.YourTwitter: @.Sapnap @.Dream ur both so right,, best year of my life So Far 😌

· DECEMBER ·

December 2021 is surprisingly quiet.

At the beginning of the month you announce that since you've actually got some time off, you're going to be stepping back from social media to focus on spending time on your partners and yourself. Many voice their support for you, including both Dream and Sapnap.

Sapnap streams far more frequently than Dream, and it's notable that he seems incredibly bright in all December streams, even moreso than usual.

Dream does two Twitter Spaces during the month, and in both he sounds practically giddy, explaining that both he and Sapnap are glad to have their housemate home for the holidays.

----

The Archive Of Our Own tag 'Clay | Dream/Sapnap/HousemateWasTaken' has 98 works by the end of 2021. The fanfiction with the highest kudos in this tag is 'Tommy's Guide to Imports and Exports', which is part 3 of user alliumc4t's series 'The Kids Aren't Alright'. This series revolves around the romantic relationship between Dream, Sapnap, and their housemate, whilst also becoming legal guardians of Tommyinnit, Tubbo_, and Ranboo. The series is still labelled as ongoing, and contains the following fics;

'Ohana' Isn't A Real Word

Blessed Be The Boys Time Can't Capture

Tommy's Guide to Import and Exports

Time's Arrow (The Achilles Heel)

The Only Normal Person In This Whole Damn Building

Flags and Other Decorations

----

And finally, to book end the year, Y/N posted the following Tweet just after midnight on New Year's Eve:

For all you asking, the boys were each other's New Year's kiss, I gave our cat a smooch on her little fuzzy noggin. Good start to the year all around. 💖

[choicesficwriterscreations]

November Creator of the Month: Belencha77

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month: @belencha77

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTMs can be found here.

Tumblr Blog Name: Belencha77

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog

Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I started playing Choices about four years ago or so. My first book, and the one I fell in love with, was The Royal Romance. I loved the intrigue and indecision Riley had about who to choose.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

Two or three years ago. Since I was obsessed with reading more about Liam and Riley's story, I searched on Google and found Tumbr. The truth is that I had never heard of the page since my native language is Spanish. But I love reading and reading in English fascinates me.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

For the moment, my blog has my name.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

My first post was "Everything Has Changed Chapter 10—Surrender" by sincerelyella. The truth is that I was just figuring out how to manage the page, but the story itself enchanted me. In relation to my first post with my name, it was in July of this year. I have been enchanted ever since I read TRR. But I read it in English, so I translated it into Spanish, and that's why I decided to share it.

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

The truth is that I like writing fanfics, but if I could create fan art at some point, I would.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I started writing on Wattpad and Booknet in 2021, but I started sharing my work on Tumblr only in July, which encouraged me to do so.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Without a doubt, The Royal Romance.

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

My first fanfic was The Royal Romance. I honestly wouldn't change it. I'm a die-hard fan of this series.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

The Royal Romance

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

The truth is that I just started posting my creations on Tumblr. On other platforms, I thought I wouldn't be accepted, but it actually went well. As I explained, I read The Royal Romance in English and translated it into Spanish.

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I would definitely love to write only romantic stuff, so I'd say I'm going for angst.

12- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

In some things, yes. In others, it is as I would expect to have the courage to be

13- What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Sometimes it's difficult to write because ideas slip away—one comes, then another follows, and you erase, rewrite, and start over.

14- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

No, for the moment

15- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

I would love for someone outside the fandom to see it and I would definitely show them The Royal Romance.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

The truth is that some people: kingliamandriley, katurrade, kat-tia801, @bebepac, @tessa-liam, @kingliam2019, ao719. There are several people who have inspired me.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

The Royal Romance

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I prefer fanfiction

19- What other hobbies do you have?

I like making covers, drawing, reading.

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to)

I feel that I am passionate about romance. I see writing as a way to clear the mind, as each of us carries a unique story to tell. It’s more than just putting words on a page; writing is an act of dedication, effort, and passion, an opportunity to share our emotions and thoughts with the world. Love stories have the power to connect hearts, to make us dream, laugh, and cry, reminding us of the beauty of feeling and surrendering to love in all its forms.

For me, every romantic story is an invitation to explore the deepest emotions, to believe in the magic of love, and to find beauty in every corner of life. I am also deeply fascinated by royalty, which is why I’m obsessed with the book that revolves around this theme—it combines my love for romance with the allure of royal life. I love love stories. I've written on other platforms before, but I wanted to try this one in my native language to see how it turned out. If you like Spanish, I hope you can enjoy my translated stories from The Royal Romance with some changes. I hope to be able to upload more.

[usedpidemo]

Update - 2nd year anniversary! (plus a reflection, and future plans).

Hi everyone! π here.

Today, May 13th, is the day I officially opened up this blog and began writing degenerate and immoral stories! 2 fucking years have passed, how time flies. So much can change in a year, and so do some of the stats!

First work: Sandwich - Red Velvet Wendy (published 05/13/21, 4:03 a.m.)

Highest note count: Awards after-party affair - Itzy Yuna (published 10/23/22, 1167 notes)

Number of works published: 80 fics (1 fic every 9.1 days)

500 followers: June 18, 2021 (36 days or 1 month, 5 days)

1,000 followers: October 12, 2021 (152 days or 4 months, 30 days)

2,000 followers: June 18, 2022 (401 days or 1 year, 1 month, and 5 days)

3,000 followers: November 12, 2022 (548 days or 1 year, 5 months, and 30 days)

Follower count: 3,953 followers (5.4 followers a day)

I wish I had something awesome lined up to celebrate this milestone, but I don't have anything prepared XD I've been busy and lazy at the same time. (Is that even possible?)

Actually, yeah, I do have a whole week's worth of cool things lined up this week! If I can even follow through with this one...

Monday: AMA

Tuesday: Reader Poll

Wednesday: ???

Thursday: ???

Friday: ???

I don't want to make the fun section of the update elaborately long, so I just want to say thank you so much to everyone for the support! Even though I'm not as active or as productive as I used to be, your eagerness never wavered, and you guys enjoy me talking about random shit on the side, whether it be song lyrics, Pokémon, or literally posts without any context to them. I love you guys. Here's to another year 🧡

Everything else from this point is a brief reflection and introspection of what I've been feeling since then. You can ignore this if you wish to do so.

So today marks the second anniversary since I opened up this Tumblr and became a degenerate writer. The work I've been putting up is getting worse—in a sexual and filthy way, not objectively—and my mental health has been getter much, much better! When I made the same anniversary post around this time a year ago, I was at an all-time low, mentally speaking. I really felt like I had not much left to give at that point, my skill has stagnated, and I thought there wasn't much for me to improve on. If you asked me if I had any future plans for this blog, I'd say I'd be done by the end of 2022, if not sooner.

It's now 2023, and I believe I'm as good as I can be right now. Slumps happen for a reason, and you can't always win, but it's how you bounce back from the lowest of lows that you reach highest of highs. And I believe I can still get better.

Genuinely, not to sound arrogant, because Lord knows I'm not the best fanfic writer—fuck no—I'm not anywhere close, even in a theoretical top 1000 list, but I do think some of my finest work have come up in my most recent fics. I don't know, it feels more polished and there was more effort and deliberation put into it. The numbers don't lie, either; every single work I published since May 2022 has over 400+ notes, and I've even passed the 1000+ note barrier twice! It goes to show that you guys are enjoying what I'm putting out as much as I love making them, slow and difficult it may be. I can fondly smile at last year's additions to my masterlist and say, "I can't believe I did that."

I do want to apologize if my output rate has drastically slowed down, and if I'm not as active as I was before. It's unfortunately part of the sacrifice needed for better quality control, and also because I have more personal commitments to attend to. 2023 has been fantastic for me so far in almost every department, except maybe physically—I could use more exercise—but that can be worked upon.

I do believe I'm on borrowed time. Again, look at the gap between fics over the past six months ago, and it's only going to widen once I enter my third year of college. I also have to begin considering what hobbies and other things I should do to occupy my free time, so I can be more productive as a person. This isn't to say I'm definitely quitting, but I expect more responsibilities to be shouldered onto me in the future, and having time for myself is going to be pretty much a birthday gift with how rare it might be given, and I'd prefer spending my time off recharging and relaxing instead of stressing over inconsequential or 'fun' things.

There's a lot of people I want to thank specifically, because while I was struggling with my own personal battles, they've been encouraging me to continue fighting and have been absolute lads—and lasses—throughout the past year. When I needed someone to talk to that wasn't my therapist, they were there, and I took solace in their comfort and companionship. I can't tag you guys, but if you're reading this—Chunk, Raf, Peach, Aaron, Sol, V1n, Iz, Ddeun, C.o, Kaede, Frisky, Smite, Shaun, Sins, Jett, Eros, Prael, Ken, Cray, CJ, Sooya, Gray, Svn—I sincerely thank you. God bless each and every single one of you. And to Tim, I really hope you can see this, but I'm truly, truly sorry. I hope we can find a way to bury that fracture in our relationship in the past, and we can reconcile. If not, then I just want closure and peace for the both of us.

So in closing, I want to thank you so much for sticking with me through the bad times and prospering with me through the good, and I'm always humbled that you've taken a chance on me when I started, when I was a hopeful newbie, two years ago. Now here we are. I appreciate every single one of you, be it a fellow writer, a reader, or a lurker.

With grace,

Peter / π