#i have so many good ideas on how to write this

[dear-ao3]

by popular request: how to write an email

a disclaimer that this is the specific kind of email you send when people are absolutely smiting you and you know a phone call or an in person meeting is not possible/will not help. like youre 12 emails deep in an email chain and going in circles. youve been re routed to 13 offices 4 separate times. those kind of emails.

credentials: ive taken something like 13 semesters of college (dont ask) and every single semester have had to fight at least 3 offices for varying reasons in order to take classes. (including one time where i was shorted 5k in financial aid. i ended up getting 200 more dollars than i needed in the end) also my dad taught me everything he knows about emails (hes a tradesman turned corporate man and most of his job consists of telling people (nicely) that what theyre doing sucks and makes absolutely no sense)

Step 1: figure out who the email needs to go go

there is nothing wrong with emailing 11 million people if it gets the job done. if someone isnt helping you and you Know that they Should Be feel free to start to copy their boss on the email. copy your boss on an email. (or advisor or whoever). even if you think the person might only be like Vaguely helpful, sometimes people know people.

also theres nothing wrong with emailing the same email to several departments. sometimes you have to make a lot of noise to get something done (again. as like a last resort. dont email 11 million people right out of the gate)

Step 2: remember to be Polite

a very tempting step to ignore especially when you are 13 thousand emails deep in problems. but! if you are not nice to them! they will probably continue to smite you in the future! you want to make friends! not foes! so no matter how much people are smiting you, try to resist the urge to be an utter dipshit because it will not get the job done. vent to a friend or a coworker and send your polite and nice email

Step 3: articulate the problem Clearly.

a very important step. especially if you are adding more people to your email chain. dont assume they know your exact problem. they probably are dealing with other problems. articulate Clearly what is happening, no matter how long the email may be. its far better to get a long and detailed email rather than a non helpful short one. that will only prolong the process of how long it takes the problem to get solved.

Step 4: cite your reciepts.

wildly important. send your screenshots your attachments your whatever the fucking fuck youve got. its always good to have a paper trail. this is also where you would state any previously attempts to have the problem Sorted (ie i reached out to x person on x y and z days about x problem and it is still not resolved). you would not believe how many people dont scroll down in an email, especially a forwarded/replied one. so summarize whats Down There in your most recent email

Step 5: use the appropriate lingo

you dont have to be Overly Formal but there are a few good Buzz Sentences that usually get the job done. for example:

As Per My Last Email: a great line. emphasizes that youve already mentioned this. and this is not the first time youre mentioning this point. also emphasizes that the Thing has yet to be solved

See Attached/See Below: under utilized. again. people do not open attachments and they do not scroll down. almost had a friend once fail a class because a professor gas lit them in an email chain saying they didnt receive the final paper when the paper itself was attached earlier in the email chain. be Painfully Literal. it pays off.

Help Me To Understand: this is one of my dad's favorite lines. it really shows that you have no fucking idea what the person youre emailing is getting at and youre offering them the opportunity to spell out their nonsense for you. so that you can then be like. well. clearly This is where the miscommunication lies. its a great line. has saved my ass many times. because it is not accusing it is just offering someone to understand. it does not attack. it just is.

Step 6: give a polite sign off.

something along the lines of "thank you in advance for any help" or "i look forward to hearing from you" does the job. something that sends the message you are not pissed to shit at them even if you are.

Step 7: follow up and follow up often.

polite email response time is 48 business hours/2 business days. if it has been longer than that you have every right to email back and say hi x person just following up on this email, have you had the chance to review it yet? again. keep it polite. you actually want them to help you. and if they still dont respond well then maybe its time to loop in a boss or a supervisor or whoever the hell else. dont be afraid to go above them if you need to. nothing wrong with getting shit done when it needs to get done.

and really, if all that fails, as my dad says, a little office bribe in the form of cookies has never hurt anyone :)

so an email. should be formatted something like this:

Greetings/Good Morning (Afternoon) (Person)

I hope this email finds you well (or something similar for a greeting). I am reaching out regarding X incident/problem/whatever the fuck it is. I have previously reached out to X person on X dates and (summary of whatever they did or didnt do). See below/attached emails/pdf/screenshot/document (if applicable)

(explanation of the problem in as simple and detailed terms as possible. have someone re read it to make sure that it cannot be misconstrued)

(explanation of what you are looking for as a solution)

Please help me to understand why this (solution) has not been able to be reached. (explain you are on x timeline if the situation is urgent)

Kind regards/Thank you for any help in advance/I look forward to hearing from you etc,

email signature

go forth and conquer your emails. remember, sometimes you have to be a squeaky wheel. and in my million cases of email sending, it has ALWAYS paid off and i have gotten the problems solved. dont be afraid of the emails they can help you.

[dcxdpdabbles]

#Holiday requests If you're not too busy I would love another part to cinnamon rolls son. Love your writing, it really is a great inspiration, you got me out of my own writing slump.

The Justice League was at their wits ends with Dan. Disaster struck no matter what they attempted to ensure he developed some softer traits.

First, Barry had the bright idea to show him the wonders of volunteer work to help the community. If he could value the life of humans, surely he wouldn't destroy it in the far future. As a teenager, Barry had punched hours of volunteering in the local hospital to play and read to the sick children in bed.

He had done it because he enjoyed making children smile and built up his resume for college. Barry was many things, but being wealthy enough to afford college wasn't one of them. He wanted to apply for as many scholarships as possible, so he started his community service campaign from an early age.

On the first day of their community service, Barry had taken him to clean up the local beach. An hour into the work, a shark had been spotted near the swimmers, and Dan had dived in to rescue a little girl from its jaws.

Dan had been hailed a hero until he picked up the girl's father and threw him into the water towards said shark. The father had ignored his seven-year-old daughter for his mistress. Apparently, once Dan overheard the man panicking more about his wife finding out the beach father-daughter beach day was just an excuse to cheat on her than his crying daughter in the ambulance, Dan had figured he needed to be taught a lesson.

Dan stood over him while the man screamed and splashed, pointing and laughing. Were it not for the Flash's sudden appearance, well....Dan may have actually fed that cheating cum bag to the sharks.

Bruce added it to the shared drive, asking Barry to include a complete detailed report, by the hour, of what happened. They figured they could analyze Dan and find what could make him snap.

Next, Clark took Dan to his family farm. He claimed nothing brought up good children like his mother and father's gentle but firm parenting,g plus the wonders of the hard farmer life. Clark was sure Dan would enjoy all the open space, the animals, and working in the fields.

Within the hour of the pair arriving at the farm, Dan happily weeded around the field. Clark was somewhat surprised by how quick he took to the job. He went inside to help Ma ready some pie and Clark's legendary lemonade as a reward.

It only took a few minutes since Ma had already put the pie to cook before they arrived. The two were gone long enough that Clark could make a nice pitcher and take a few seconds to smell the mouthwatering pie.

He went back into the field carrying a tray of a plated two-slice pie and a cold glass cup, only to stop dead in his tracks. Dan was kneeling, laughing manically towards the sky, within the circle of burning weeds.

The flames were a green and black color. Its dark smoke shifted into what appeared to be screaming humans. The worst part, however, was the lines of what appeared to be renamed scarecrows wearing shackles as they harvest Pa's cornfield.

Clark was horrified.

Batman had added to the drive, "Gave life to inanimate things just to enslave them."

Hal was the next one to try, but no one knew what happened on their Become A Better Person trip. Hal refused to place a report, only stating that he could never look at Hawaiian pizza again. He threw up when Barry brought one in for a long meeting.

At least Phantom seemed happy they were still attempting to save his son. His daughter was also more well-behaved, spending most of her days traveling. It was strange to associate her with Phantom because if there was one thing Dani liked to do, it was pick fights.

She had fought through Darkside's defenses to challenge him to a pie-eating contest. She freed half of his planet on her way out, but not before beating them up to get them to listen.

Her father would have spent time trying to do things peacefully. Not Dani. She did stuff through her fists.

Batman had added classifications to the three ghosts in the file. Phantom was Lawfully good, Dani Chaotic good, and Dan was marked as Chaotic neutral. The rest of the league suspects that his children added those, but no one was brave enough to point it out.

[ptergwen]

hiii

so this might me dirty but hear me out

It has gotten to me that mans come can meddle w the woman’s dna

so with this as an inspiration, and I know it’s kinda cliche but

stark!reader suddenly having spider senses or smh (not pregnancy)

oh and it’s for Tom Holland spider man

have an amazing dayy

a parker thing

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: ?

warnings: smut (p in v unprotected, lowkey dom!peter and reader), swearing

a/n: jump scare if you didn't see my post lmao i'm back y'all! i missed u guys and missed writing lots so i’ll be here from time to time again :) i had so much fun with this req thank you for the idea! much love to u all <3

you catch yourself dozing off and jerk your head up instinctively. one short, loud snore passes your lips as you do so, eyes opening wide. you blink your tired eyes a few times as you readjust to the harsh lighting.

ugh, you fell asleep in the lab, something you always chastise peter and your dad for doing. they're notorious for their long hours spent messing around with stark tech. you've lost count of how many times you've woken up to an empty spot in bed where your boyfriend should be, instead finding him fast asleep surrounded by cups of coffee and a delirious tony still on the grind.

tonight, you're the stark who's in the lab past their bedtime. you had the day to yourself and decided to use your free time to upgrade your suit. it had had a few hiccups during the team's last mission, so you wanted to work on it before the next one. what was supposed to be a few minor tweaks turned into a whole day of tweaking.

you scoff at yourself and wipe some drool that crusted onto your chin. oddly enough, you almost instantly refocus on the screen in front of you. it's been like this for most of the day. you're way more concentrated than usual for some reason, more aware. you figure it's because peter has been out on patrol and couldn't distract you.

"are you finished for the night, boss? you aren't usually here this late."

"i know, but i’m gonna stay a little longer. i’ll be done soon...i think."

friday dims the lights directly overhead so they aren't as harsh. you smile.

"thanks, fri."

you sit up in your seat, scooting in closer to the screen displaying your suit. you carefully look over the prototype and pick up a pen to write yourself some notes. when you go to put down the pen, it sticks to your palm. you shake your hand to try to get it off. it stays stuck.

"huh."

you use your other hand to pry the pen off of you.

"weird."

first you have heightened senses, now you're sticky. if you didn't have ordinary stark dna, you'd think you were part arachnid like peter.

you're not sure why, but you suddenly stand up and turn towards the main doors to the lab. they slide open a few seconds later. peter walks inside, spider suit on and mask off. he pads over to you with a soft smile.

"there you are. friday said i could find you down here."

peter pecks your lips and envelopes you in a hug. you sign contentedly, face nuzzled into his neck and arms winding around him.

"yeah, she's probably sick of me. i've been down here all day."

"you're really locked in, huh? how's the suit coming along?"

peter's fingers rub up and down your back ever so lightly. just the small touch practically sends shivers down your spine.

"good. fixed everything and double checked, then triple checked. started adding some new stuff, too."

"new features? like what?"

"you know the one i was telling you about..."

you trail off as peter's hands slide down to your ass. he pulls you in closer to himself, letting his hands rest there. you peek up at him, heart speeding up.

"go on, i’m listening."

peter gives your ass a gentle squeeze. it's an innocent gesture, really, but your senses are going crazy right now and you can't help but to get turned on. you always tease peter about how easily he's turned on. if this is what it feels like for him, now you understand.

"hm, i'm bored of talking about the suit. tell me about patrol."

"it was good! got a lot of action today. i mean, i guess that's not good 'cause that means there's more crime and stuff, but y'know. anyway..."

you stare at peter's lips, but don't listen to a word he's saying. it's the first time today you can't focus. he's pressed right up against you in his damned tight spider suit, and his hands are still on your ass, and you're so hypersensitive and hyper aware. all you can think about is how bad you need him.

"y/n? you okay?"

peter must have noticed you spacing out.

your gaze flicks between his eyes and lips before your own lips wordlessly capture his in a searing kiss. peter lets out a breathy chuckle, caught a bit off guard by your abruptness. he deepens the kiss for a moment, then pulls back with a look of amusement. you bite back a cheeky smile.

"horny."

peter's features form a smirk.

"i got you, baby."

he kisses you again. his tongue tangles with yours, a sigh passing your lips. peter lifts you up, grip becoming firmer on your ass. you wrap your legs around his waist. he kisses down your neck until he finds a spot he wants to mark. you tilt your head to the side so he has more access. peter's lips suck roughly on your skin, teeth nipping at it playfully. you let out a shaky breath.

peter presses one last kiss to what's sure to become a hickey to soothe it. you tilt his chin up towards you again, lips smashing into his, holding him in place by the back of his head. he carries you to the nearest table while your intertwined lips move desperately against each other's. you sneak a hand down to the bulge in his suit, earning a groan.

"one sec, lemme get this off."

peter sets you down on the table and quickly strips off his spider suit. you take your own clothes off and toss them aside, left only in your bra and panties. peter comes to stand between your legs. he slips your panties to the side, middle finger collecting your wetness as he kisses you again. his finger slides into you with ease and begins to pump. you moan into the kiss, tugging at his hair.

"already so wet, baby. don't even have to get you warmed up."

peter's finger curls inside you, cockiness evident in his tone and on his features. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck.

"stop teasing, parker."

"can't take it when the roles are reversed, stark?"

something takes over you in that moment, the same something that's been coursing through your veins all day. you grab both of peter's hands and hold them in place above his head. your grip is tight around his wrists, too tight for him to break free of it. a noise almost like a growl escapes you.

"shut up and fuck me, or i’ll fuck you."

peter meets your wild eyes, his pupils equally as dilated.

"do it."

you promptly pull peter up to the table with you. you push him back so he lies down, pinning his arms down at his sides. his chest rises and falls, breathless.

"woah, what's gotten into you today? not that i’m complaining, but, woah."

"i know, right? i thought you were supposed to have super strength."

peter grabs you by your hips and sits up, seating you in his lap. you wiggle your hips in his grasp, but he digs his fingers into your sides so you can't move. peter's voice drops low.

"what was that?"

you breathe out a low laugh.

"nothing."

you dip your head down to press your forehead to peter's. he smiles, satisfied with your answer. you wrap your hand around his hard cock and stroke him. peter's lips ghost over yours, his breathing heavy.

"wanna feel you, y/n/n."

peter slides his hands up to your waist so you can move again. you smile knowingly. you slip off your panties before you reposition yourself, your legs on either side of him. you line up peter's cock with your entrance.

"wanna feel you too, pete."

you lower yourself down onto peter. you both let out little sighs and moans as he fills you up.

he always feels so good inside you, but this time is even better, even more intense.

you arch your back to find the right angle, shifting backwards a bit. once you're both comfortable, you begin to roll your hips. peter exhales a breath he was holding, lifting his hips up to help you out. your movements are slow, fluid. peter supports you by the small of your back, eyes hooded and lips parted for air.

"fuck, i'm not gonna last long."

"me neither."

he kisses you, softly but with so much passion. you let your eyes flutter closed and kiss back. you place your feet flat on the table for more stability and straighten your back, starting to bounce on his cock.

"y/n..."

peter's voice comes out almost like a whine. you chuckle at that.

"i know."

you grab onto peter's shoulders for more support as you move, up and down, back and forth. peter leaves sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. the once quiet lab is now filled with both of your moans and the sounds of your wetness every time his cock thrusts into you. you're both so close, and you can hardly hold out any longer.

peter grabs your hips to stop your movements. he takes over, thrusting up into you at the same delicious pace, only he's the one in control. you let out a series of short, high pitched moans, head thrown back as peter's cock hits the right spot in you over and over again.

"that's it, y/n/n. sound so pretty, baby."

peter half speaks and half groans. you reply with your own noise of content, squeezing yourself around his cock as you reach your high. peter is close to his.

"god, fuck."

he's panting. his thrusts speed up a bit until his hips stop moving altogether. he pushes deeper into you with one final moan, his cum filling you up, making you feel warm inside. you both recently agreed he could finish in you; it's a new level of intimacy.

"fuck, baby. woah."

you bury your face in peter's neck in response. you try to catch your breath, falling forward into his arms.

"oh my god, pete. that was..."

"yeah."

peter hugs your waist. he slowly pulls out of you, making you wince at the new emptiness.

"sorry."

he peppers tender kisses to the side of your head. you remove your face from his neck.

"it's okay."

you ruffle peter's hair with a tired smile. he kisses your cheek, smiling back. you give him another peck on his lips. you yawn, today's and tonight's activities catching up with you once again.

"aw, you tired?"

"mhm. you must be, too, spidey."

"exhausted. let's get cleaned up, then we'll go to bed?"

"sounds perfect."

peter helps you down from the table. you quickly step into your panties in case any cum leaks out of you. he picks his suit up off the floor.

"okay, that was insanely good. i mean, it always is, but something was different. i wonder what it was."

peter shimmies into his suit so his lower half is covered. you're putting on the rest of your clothes.

"i don't know, i’ve just been super on my shit today. really focused and stuff."

"explains why you were so locked in on your suit."

"that might just be a stark thing. actually, it's a parker thing too."

you poke peter's chest playfully. you collect some of your things from your work area, some miscellaneous supplies sticking to your palms as you do.

"why does this keep happening?"

peter watches curiously as you huff and shake paper clips off your palms.

"funny, that reminds me of when i first got my powers. took me a while to figure out how to control it, being sticky."

"uh huh. did you spill web fluid last time you were down here or something?"

"i don't think so, but it would have dissolved by now if i did. i haven't been in the lab for a couple days."

"oh. maybe it was someone else."

peter quirks a brow.

"i don't see any web fluid over there, y/n/n."

you turn to face peter.

"so why am i sticky?"

between this, your strength, and your heightened senses, peter puts it together. you have powers.

his spider powers.

"that might also be a parker thing. more specifically, a spider-man thing."

"you don't mean... no."

if peter is saying what you think he's saying, that confirms what you had thought earlier.

"uh, yeah."

peter crosses over to you. your eyebrows knit together.

"we must share some dna."

"but how? that wouldn't be possible unless we were, like, related... ew! please don't tell me we're fucking related!"

"baby, baby." peter laughs softly, taking one of your hands in his. "stop freaking out."

"you should be freaking out too! you were just inside me, peter, fucking me raw! you came in me!"

"exactly."

peter's voice is way too calm for your liking.

"exactly? what do you mean 'exactly'?"

"think about it. sperm is made up of dna."

"so what?"

"well, i wasn't born with this dna. it got mutated by the spider bite. so no, we're definitely not related."

you tentatively soften your gaze, allowing peter to lace his fingers through yours.

"since i got my powers from the mutation, i guess you got them too when i started finishing in you."

you gasp, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

"you mean you mutated my dna? you have radioactive cum?"

"something like that. you're not mad?"

you toy with peter's fingers, looping an arm around his neck.

"nah, it's kind of cool now that i know what it is. you're gonna have to teach me how to use the powers, though."

"of course." peter returns your smile. "now that you've got new powers, you gotta rebrand. maybe you could call yourself spider-woman."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you? come up with something more original."

peter's arms wrap around your middle, smile growing into a toothy grin.

"you could also use mrs. parker. it's gonna be your name someday, anyways."

you put your other arm around peter's neck with a laugh.

"mrs. parker, i like that."

(too lazy to use tags lmao)

[bb-dot-move-daisies]

MORE. MORE.

1. who fell first/who fell harder?

oh shit...i think they both were on the same page the whole time, except they have severely different ways of expressing it. but i wanna say...kylie, then kylie again.

(2/3/4 absolutely no idea what these are.)

5. (two QUEEN song titles, huh?) who killer queen, who good old fashioned loverboy? kylie for both.

6. go to pet names for each other?

daisy sticks to the classics like "honey", "dear", "sugar" — meanwhile kylie genuinely uses pet names to remember people, so she gets a little more creative. i think the main ones kylie has for daisy are "smokeshow", and "spacegirl"

7. what are their star signs? i have to google this.

kylie was born on the 29th of February, daisy was born on December 31st. pisces and capricorn. (and wikihow says they're compatible; awesome.)

8. (paraphrasing) where in the los gibitties are they?

daisy is a cis lesbian gray ace attorney; kylie's a genderfluid transfemme, who uses she/they with the occasional "masc associated" words (like "handsome", "dad/daddy", etc), and identifies herself as a "lesbian with a biiiiiig asterisks"

9. soulmates by chance. pure chance.

10. skip.

11. (paraphrasing) who's more random in public, and who says "unfortunately thats the love of my life" i have no idea, honestly. i feel like daisy, when drunk and happy can be quite expressive and loud, and kylie would just...fall in love all over again.

12. three songs that remind me of:

Daisy:

- first love/late spring

- washing machine heart

- my love all mine

(it's all mitski 😭😭😭😭💥🚛🕊️)

(i think, subconsciously, daisy's design is heavily based on the kind of women mitski writes about. and whenever i write daisy talking, i tend to go the kind of weird figurative language route that mitski tends to go for in her music...so i think thats why.)

Kylie:

- mr. blue sky - electric light orchestra

- the blonde - tv girl

- and this ones just a straight up Movie, but, pretty woman starring julia roberts and richard gere.

13. who's "tell me im pretty" and who's "ur annoying" (so many of these questions are in that "who tops" type format, but ill answer anyway. cuz its fun.)

daisy never asks kylie to tell her she's pretty, but kylie can feel when she needs it, so she says it. and daisy expresses her love for kylie in protective, but — at times — overly rude quips, because deep down, she can't stand the idea of HER woman in danger.

(also Kylie's a subby top.)

14. love languagesss!!! my favourite trademarked set of behaviours!!!

gifts, and service from kylie. service, and words for daisy.

15. yknow despite the fact that one of my girls is an astronaut i have no idea what "sun moon star eclipse" is. skip.

16. non sexual acts of intimacy.

- kylie cooking the foods daisy likes and remembering how she likes them.

- in bed, whispering about their days, and all the hours spent without each other at work

- daisy showering while kylie shits.

17. i...cant imagine either of them in a physical fight,...theyre both athletic to some degree, i just cant imagine them having the desire to fight for themselves.... Maybe Daisy? daisy has more bloodlust. but fuck i dont know. she could never beat kylie in a fight. right? even if kylie doesn't fight back, she's canonically bigger and heavier...daisy could throw a million punches while kylie does nothing and it would be a fair match.

18. three other ships from other things that remind me of daisy and kylie:

- fucking Arin and Suzy from game grumps.

19. who likes dogs who likes cats? kylie loves dogs. daisy hates animals. she'll take a Cool Fish™ , maybe, but could never take care of it

20. favorite thing about each other?

daisy likes that kylie doesn't need to be babied. that—on the contrary, kylie takes care of, and pampers daisy (as she deserves). kylie can be kinda shallow at times, but she's good with her hands, and quick on her feet. — that's what daisy likes about kylie. she can rely on her.

kylie likes...everything about daisy. to kylie, daisy is the kind of girl they wanna write home about. yknow? she likes that daisy's smart—she's a reader, she fills the gaps in conversation where kylie just prefers to listen. she's a good cuddle. she has pretty hair. she looks sexy in everything. she makes a lot of money. she's awesome to cook for. she's a competent mother. her family adooores her. (and this one's selfish) but daisy can be a bit of an insomniac, so she's still quite Active late at night; which works for kylie (nightshifter), cus now she has someone to come home to.

21. do they ever match??? in clothing? no, bc there's a severe gap in the way that they dress and shop. however i can see daisy wearing kylies t-shirts and boxers around the house...and i can see kylie wearing daisy's stuff for more Fashionable events

22. their own little ways of saying i love you:

- daisy protects kylie. but would risk crossing her own comfort zones for kylie. and when kylie's in bed, she falls asleep a little easier, because kylie protects her too.

- kylie pets daisy hair, and kisses every inch of her body. kylie waits to see daisy, almost every time. she's at her beck and call.

23. daisy wouldn't marry herself, and neither would kylie. they both kinda hate themselves a lot.

24. coffee or tea? coffee for both

25. one to five tropes they could embody in an au:

- highschool au (the real alteration being that the girls arent four years apart)

i think the reason for this is because the way i write kylie is heavily based on the way i write GRENDAN in my dr*wtectives highschool fics (fun fact) (censoring so they don't FIND ME.)

kylie is a gifted kid with severe imposter's syndrome, meanwhile daisy is an overachiever with no friends.

that's always a fun dynamic for me.

- princess x peasant is another good one for these two...

i think daisy would make an amazing politician,

princesses are just... politicians with a facecard. but i also believe that kylie's girldick is strong enough to tear the military down

🌙 * ―　silly little unique trivia about your otp．❫

who fell first, and who fell harder?

their hypothetical godly parents (or a deity they could embody in a mythological setting).

soldiers, poets, or kings?

the olive theory according to them (and their palate).

who's the ‘good old-fashioned lover boy’, and who's the ‘killer-queen’?

go-to pet names they have for each other, if any.

what are their star signs? (i know nothing about astrology, but it's funky so out with it!)

their sexual orientations and/or gender identities.

soulmates by fate/chance or by choice?

their hypothetical hogwarts houses, either traditionally speaking, so to say, or following the sortinghatchats method. (alternatively, if you'd rather: their alignment by dnd standards).

who's more likely to do stupid, impulsive, or random stuff, and who's there being like, ‘regrettably, that's the love of my life’?

one to three songs that remind you of them.

who's the “tell me i'm pretty” one, and who's the “you're pretty fucking annoying is what you are” in the relationship?

their love languages.

sun, moon, stars, earth, or eclipse?

three to five non-sexual acts of intimacy.

who's the “i could beat the shit out of you” one, and who's the “i know” one?

one to three other ships from other pieces of media that may remind you of them.

who's the dog person, and who's the cat person? (other pets or animals may also apply.)

their absolute favourite thing about each other in the whole wide world.

do they ever match in any way?

their own little way (or ways) to say ‘i love you’.

who's the “i wouldn't marry myself either” one, and who's the “i would marry you with parer rings” one? (alternatively: i'd marry you with paper rings vs. i'm rich. i'll get you a diamond)?

coffee or tea?

one to five tropes they embody or could pull off in an AU.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Dialogue: Compliments

Compliment - a verbal or written remark that expresses admiration, respect, or praise for another person or group.

The definition of compliment includes the general expression of good wishes or affirmations on quality, as in the example sentence, “My compliments to the chef.”

Studies show that compliments can activate the brain’s reward center, promote positivity, and help build self-esteem and overall good mental health.

Types of Compliments

You can compliment anyone, from family members to coworkers to strangers on the street. Some compliments include the following:

Accomplishments: You can compliment someone about their past or recent achievements. You could compliment a significant personal win like reaching a career goal or a minor victory like guessing the word of the day on a challenging crossword puzzle.

Appearance: You can view these compliments as flattering comments about how someone looks on a particular occasion or about attributes like beautiful eyes, skin, or hair.

Creativity: Compliments about creativity might include kind statements about someone’s artistic ability or creative solutions to issues, projects, or problems.

Intelligence: When you compliment someone’s intelligence, you could give them a sincere compliment about a specific situation or playfully tell them they’re a smart cookie in a general sense.

Personality: Compliments about someone’s personality cover many areas and might include statements about the person having a great sense of humor, being a great listener, or always seeing the silver lining in difficult situations.

Whole person: You can compliment someone about how you view them, such as telling them they’re an awesome friend or a great sister.

Examples of Compliments to Give

The best compliments come from the heart and are unique and specific to the person you’re addressing. Consider the following compliment suggestions:

You have a beautiful smile.

You always light up a room.

I love your style.

That color looks great on you.

I love your sense of humor; you always make me laugh.

I’m impressed by your ability to stay calm and focused when things are stressful.

Your ideas are so innovative and fresh.

You’re always so helpful.

I appreciate your honesty.

I always have fun when I’m with you.

You’re stronger than you think you are.

I’m grateful you’re in my life.

You’re an inspiration to me.

You add so much to our community; I’m glad you’re here.

I admire that you always speak up with your opinion.

I always feel comfortable being myself around you.

You’ve brought such joy into my life.

I love how curious you are about how things work.

You’re such a good team player and considerate of others.

You’re so patient when dealing with others’ problems.

How to Compliment Someone

Giving a compliment might feel awkward at first, but with practice, you’ll experience the benefits of improved relationships and an overall sense of wellness. Follow these guidelines when giving a compliment:

Be specific. The more detailed your compliment, the more impactful it feels to the person receiving it. Telling someone they’re a good listener is lovely, but telling them about a specific time when they made you feel heard them feels more meaningful.

Embrace sincerity. Most people can sense when a compliment is insincere, so tell the truth when giving praise. Avoid giving compliments you don’t believe, such as telling them they’re attractive when you don’t find them attractive or telling someone they did a good job when they failed at the task.

Include strangers. Avoid reserving compliments just for people you know well. A well-timed and honest compliment to someone you don’t know can make their day, even if it’s about something simple. Avoid complimenting people you don’t know well on their physical appearance.

Notice the good things. Pay attention to your family, friends, loved ones, and coworkers, and note their good qualities and accomplishments. When you spend a lot of time with people, it’s easy to only focus on problems or negative issues that need solutions. Incorporate taking in the positive and giving compliments regularly to forge stronger connections and make a habit of noticing the good.

How to Respond to a Compliment

In some cases, you may find receiving compliments creates anxiety, especially if you suffer from low self-esteem. Follow these tips when responding to a compliment:

Avoid rejecting the compliment. Sometimes receiving compliments feels uncomfortable, making you impulsively want to give credit to someone else, turn it into a joke, or tell the person why you don’t deserve the accolades. Though you may feel all these things internally, do your best to avoid verbalizing your self-doubt, which could make the other person feel foolish or rejected.

Express your gratitude. Accept the compliment as you would a gift, saying “thank you.” If you wish, you can expand on your appreciation by adding how the compliment made a difference (either as a positive emotion or as an encouragement to keep going).

It’s about the giver as much as it’s about you. When someone compliments you, they tell you how your behavior or actions impacted them, which may feel like a vulnerable act for them. Remember that how you respond can have an emotional effect on the receiver.

Redirect compliments meant for someone else. If someone compliments you about an action or work you didn’t do, redirect them to the right person while supporting their desire to give a compliment. For example, if someone compliments you about a work project you didn’t do, you might say, “That’s so nice of you to say that! Actually, Kim completed that job. I’m sure she’d love to hear your feedback.”

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[snailpebbles]

your fic about Chishiya was so good I feel like you captured his character perfectly 😩 will you write more about him? I can barely find any good writings about him and yours is truly so perfect 😔💓

Patchwork Love

pairing: Chishiya Shuntaro x gn!reader

summary: after being injured in a game, Chishiya drags you off and is somehow more silent than usual. What's his problem?

tags: friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, they're both so stupid

warnings: descriptions of injuries including blood, non-sexual unwanted touch, emotional constipation, Chishiya cries lmao

a/n: hope you enjoy :) my writing is rusty lol but I love this trope

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Everything was going fine at first; you were on your own in a level three spades game, lightwork! It was a construction zone with many metal rails and walkways, and multiple wide pipes at the very top. The objective was simple - get to the top before the time runs out. At first it was that simple, that is until the freezing cold water began to pour in randomized sections. A game of strength and luck it seems. There were others from the Beach with you, so of course you figured you'd just team up and make sure no one slips. Wrong! To save their own asses just as the four of you were getting towards the top, they used your body as an easier to grip ladder. Not only did you feel violated, you also felt icy cold fear mixing with white hot rage. What the fuck? You pulled those three up so many times at the risk of drowning and for what?

The water pours down on you as they cheer from the top with just two minutes left, freezing and blinding you as you struggle to actually breathe. Two hands on one thin bar that's already trembling under your suspended weight. Fuck. Everything felt like a blur as you hauled your leg over another bar, using all your strength to not drown from the water rushing across you and to pull yourself onto the walkway. For a moment it seems like something had snapped, your leg overstretched and arms overexerted. You aren't built for this! Your life before consisted of studying and absolutely destroying kids on x-box! As you lay on the metal grating, water having ceased with a heaving chest, Chishiyas face flashes in your mind. Well fuck - you're realizing you like him at the worst possible time. With that motivation in mind alongside the need to deck those three in the balls, you force your aching body up the rest of those rails with ten seconds left on the clock.

The three boys are obviously shocked to see you alive and rush off, once again leaving you behind with no transportation back. Lovely.

You aren't quite sure how you managed to get back to Beach but by the time you do, the sun is beginning to rise. Damn, what if they vacated your room? The morning air is chilly and you know you have some sort of hypothermia if your chilled fingertips are anything to go by, not to mention the way your head is beginning to swim - pun intended.

As your torn up, shaking form stumbles through the gates past a few surprised militants and even more surprised party-goers, Kuina barrels towards you. She looks both put together and a mess, her eyes red rimmed and seeming to water - pun intended - as her warm hands cup your ice cold cheeks. She chokes up at this realization and ushers you inside, muttering something about Ann being a little busy with some project as she leads you two to a familiar door.

Chishiyas face, as calm as ever, cracks when Kuina barges in. He's up in an instant and wasting no time as apparently one look at you is enough to know what you need - or maybe he just knows you. A blanket is around your shoulders before you can blink and now you're on his bed, unfortunately not in the context you'd wish for now. Kuina runs off after Chishiya instructs her to get a whole load of things, but you honestly have no idea what because you're too busy staring at him. Chishiyas face is contorted in a way you've never seen before or at least haven't been the recipient of. His eyes are focused in solely on you, his brows furrowed and typical smirk gone in favor of a grimace. Most notable are his hands resting heavy on your shoulders as if you'd shrug the warm blanket off. Those hands you now realize match those in your dreams are surprisingly warm and unsurprisingly steady - Chishiya was a little less smart than you thought if he didn't know by now that you knew of his profession. The idea of him in a doctors coat distracts you as he gets up from where he was crouched in front of you, reappearing with bandages and disinfectant.

"So..how'd your game go?" You break the awkward silence and feel your cheeks warm at how scratchy your voice is. Must've been the borderline constant drowning. His sharp gaze makes you almost flinch with the weight in it, your own eyes dropping back to your lap. Of course he doesn't respond, only making some vaguely disapproving noises as those eyes scan your wounds. His silence begins to piss you off, that rage from earlier being misdirected at him. Seriously, you almost died in a frankly horrific way and this is all he has to give?

"I can patch myself up. I'm not helpless." The tension rises, twisting uncomfortably in your gut as Chishiya stays in place while you glare at him. With a huff as he refuses to speak, you get up on weak legs. This seems to snap him out of it as he grabs your hips - and just at the right time. Your legs give way as the exhaustion hits all at once to only fuel that anger, a frustrated sound coming from you as Chishiya tuts disapprovingly again.

"Stay still. You're hurt and too tired to move." His voice is rough and annoyingly calm. Is he allergic to worrying? You obey though as he unravels the bandages and uncaps the disinfectant, steeling yourself for the following pain.

The blond has the grace to look at least a little apologetic at every wince and soft cry your battered form gives, even letting you hold onto either his shoulders or jacket. The cuts, scraps, bruises, and blood staining your body worry him even if he doesn't show it. Images begin flashing in his mind of internal bleeding, broken ribs, torn muscles-

"Are you..crying?" Your soft voice breaks the less tense silence, your own tears having dried up some time ago. Chishiya pales as he becomes aware of the liquid dripping down his cheeks and hastily wipes them away, refusing to meet your gaze or lift his head.

"No." He replies shortly, heart picking up its pace as he realizes he has to patch your torn hands. You follow his gaze and readily hold both hands out, skin raw and bleeding still. He winces internally at the sight of your beautiful hands so heavily marred.

Warmth spreads through you as he takes your hand in his non-dominant one to carefully disinfect it, whispering apologies as you hold back cries of pain. Somehow you aren't too shocked by this display of care, an inner part of you having sensed something was different by the lingering looks and the way he is always there. Chishiya wraps your hand with a gentleness you weren't sure he possessed, repeating the process with your other hand until every wound is patched up. Not a word was properly shared, your eyes rarely met, and you didn't comment again on the occasional slip of tears you caught.

"Go change in the bathroom." He mutters after passing you actual clothes, aka his own sweatpants and a t shirt. Once you step back out of the bathroom - definitely not after taking a moment to admire yourself in his clothes - Chishiya does just what you definitely didn't. The admiration is well hidden yet you catch it in the way he turns his head slightly to the left and steps back, as if you're a danger.

"These are really comfy, thanks." An appreciative smile brightens your face and threatens to blind him, so he sits down where you were moments earlier. You take a seat beside him and try to hide your steadily growing flustered state when that damn white jacket is placed around your shoulders. He says nothing so neither do you, the silence now companionable even as sparks burn its edges.

"What happened." It's not a question and you know that, just as you know what happened isn't your fault. The tears, anger and irrational shame, prick your eyes anyways. He doesn't comment, he only takes your pinkie with his.

After a deep inhale and calming exhale, you speak. "It was an easy spades game and I teamed up with three guys from here, but towards the end they just.." You choke up momentarily, but with the way his hand moves to rub your forearm, you know you'll get it out.

"They knocked me down so I was hanging and used me like a fucked up bridge- their hands were everywhere and I know it was for survival only but it was so..so dehumanizing." The words come out softer and softer until you aren't even sure Chishiya can hear, but he does. He only ever listens for you. His face is as calm as ever as you cry, arm light as it wraps around your shoulder to bring you into the only safe haven you have in this fucked up place.

Time passes, you aren't sure how much but you are sure you've dozed off, yet Chishiya hasn't moved once. He holds you close and his fingers still rub circles on your shoulder, mindful of a bruise there as he's memorized your injuries. There's some snacks and another blanket on the small dresser, presumably brought by Kuina.

Chishiya knows you've slipped into that numb state, so he doesn't mind helping you eat some crackers and drink that tea you're so obsessed with. He doesn't mind keeping you right there, right where he can protect you and you can rest; where you can heal yourself. What he does mind is you deciding to break out of this numbness by pestering him.

"You cried." You whisper, poking his chest lightly as his arms tenses around you. For a moment you fear you may have misjudged the air and his actions, envy flooding - pun unintended - through you at the idea that maybe all his patients get such treatment. His answer calms your thoughts.

"Yes, you could say I was..worried. Don't do that again." His warm breath brushes across the top of your head and a faint smile tugs at your lips from the slight roughness to his typically smooth voice. Your head props up on his chest so you can see him and he can't resist looking down at you. His eyebrow raises in a silent question that has you grin, that familiar smirk returning.

"If it gets me this treatment.."

"No."

"Worth a shot."

"..You don't need to be hurt to get my attention." The one-sided banters comes to a halt as your eyes widen, staring at his ever calm face like he hand painted the stars for you. If he could, he would.

With a slight grunt you manage to sit up a little better, worry flickering over Chishiyas face at your show of pain. Damn you could get used to this. Words aren't his thing so what better communication than action? Even with bandages, your hands ever so carefully cup his jaw, moving slowly incase he doesn't want this.

Chishiya really fucking wants this. With the way you're being so gentle, so considerate, when others in his life haven't almost keels him over. But you're injured, mentally and physically, so slow and steady will win this race. The kiss is soft and unhurried, as if there isn't an invisible timer looming over your heads. Time is irrelevant when he whispers your name oh so quietly and his hand oh so carefully caresses your matching tear stained cheek. With every touch, every shared breath, the previous hands are washed away for now. They'll haunt you at night but Chishiya will be there to wipe them away, whether that be with affection or simply being there as you get a snack to soothe your brain.

You know why he cried, why he looked so worried, why it's his clothes you're wearing, and why Kuina said Ann was busy when you actually passed by her lounging in the hall. He loves and he cares, the same as you. It only took almost losing you to realize it.

As you separate slowly and lay down, drawn together as if magnets, you drift off. Chishiya waits patiently as your breath evens out before slipping away.

It's the next morning when you wake up alone in the cold bed, insecure heartbreak seeping in until Chishiya quietly walks into the room, not hesitating with the gentle squeeze to your shoulder and kiss to your head. No words are exchanged when you settle in the chair next to him by his desk, watching him build who knows what as you munch away on those snacks. His ankle his hooked with yours and that is all that matters - you can ignore the split knuckles and prideful hint to his face because he's yours, and you're his.

[modmad]

hey so, was SKIP! ever on American TV? and if so, how?????? cuz I am 100% sure that I watched SKIP! on the TV when I was younger, like, an actual child kinda younger. it was like PBS or something showing student animations I guess?? and I was so enamored with it, I was desperately upset that I had no idea where I'd be able to find it again because I didn't know what it was called. and then later on I just happened to read tpoh (cuz i love webcomics) and there it was. right beside everything else. do you have any idea how crazy that is. It was like finding a long lost friend! Anyway that was years ago but I just wanted you to know that, since I don't think I've told you before but I've been following you for years.

Also your doodleduck comics are REALLY GOOD and are my single entry point into that kind of older-ducktales stuff. (also this is kind of random but I think your comic about gladstone and white guilt is one of the better works of art I've seen on that subject matter which I find very impressive)(source: I am black lol) OH AND HOW COULD I FORGET!! The princess and the jester is, like, phenomenally well made both visually and with its writing. It literally gives me CHILLS to read it. Frankly everything you make is so gorgeous, I kind of want to be like you. In the back of my mind when I'm like "what kind of artist do I wanna be?" your little checkered blog icon always pops up eventually haha. ok bye!!

;A;

damn this whole message means a lot to me, and yes! for a short time VFS was airing on a tv channel, I forget which but that was very cool and they gave me 500 dollar bucks which was a huge windfall for impoverished student mod :D :D :D it means so much to me that you like my work and found me again, and that particular duck comic was so scary for me to make but I've had so many wonderfully supportive messages from people like yourself that I'm really glad I stuck to my guns and listened to it. that was another 'seized from beyond by something bigger than myself' story moment... I'm glad it paid off and I hope I can continue to make things that scare me shitless but do some good in the world.

[tech-luver]

It's exam season and to help me cope I've been writing fun stuff between study sessions. Maybe my opinions could be appreciated and debated on the interwebs.

Ranking (some of) the LL crew based on who would let you take a nap on them and how comfy that nap would be:

Rodimus: 6/10 He would be so down with you taking a nap on him but he's very sharp and very distractable. His neck flare plate(?) would prevent you from sliding off but you better hope when something get his attention you don't get crushed in his neck cabling. I think he would try to remember you are there, maybe poke at you when he's bored, but if he's active, try is the key word there. Bonus points for running warm though… hopefully not too warm.

Megatron: 8/10 A solid nap to be had. Good flat shoulder plating and he would never forget you were up there. Loss of points over the fact he would only let it happen if he really liked you and, lets be real here, there would always be that prickle at the back of your neck over how low your defences are and how many organics this mech has crushed.

Ultra Magnus: 10/10 The holy grail of naps, plenty of flat surfaces to rest on, no one can bother you cuz almost no one is as tall as him, he would willingly be your alarm clock, always knows you're there, incredible nap spot. Only issue would be convincing him, but you could make up something about how humans need to nap in high places or whatever and he would fold in concern for your fragile human health.

Ratchet: 5/10 Half of the battle is getting him to agree and the other half is trying to fall asleep whilst he grumbles, he also moves around a lot cuz he never rests and is always helping bots in the medbay. I don't know if you can fall asleep to the sound of metal being welded together or someone getting yelled at for injuring themselves doing something stupid but… all the power to ya.

Drift: 9/10 Respects the need of the nap, it's basically like meditation so he gets it. His calm energy really helps when drifting off. I think he likes the idea of protecting a little human as they snooze which gives him guard dog energy when you're out, no ones messing with you and ruining your beauty sleep. Lose a point cuz he is sleek in design so fully resting on him comes at a risk.

Rung: 4/10 Doesn't mind if you ask but, I'm sorry, he's too rounded, not good for lying down. Although, he would be very careful and gentle with you so it just might work out. He works in a quiet environment which is nice but if he is having/about to have a therapy session he will ask you to leave, patient confidentiality is important to him. You would have to schedule your naps with him which is not the point of naps.

Cyclonus: 1/10 Zero flat surfaces so you would need to strap in. I don't think he would want you napping on him, he would constantly need to check you haven't fallen to your death and would find it awkward talking to people with something hanging on his shoulder. Would tell you to just go back to your berth or find a non-moving flat area, why do you want to nap on a Cybertronian anyway? A single point for at least being nice about it when he denies you.

Tailgate: 7/10 Absolute sweetheart about it but there's nowhere to really lay down on him. He would offer to hold you as a solution, which, if you don't mind being cradled like a baby (or having other people see you being cradled like a baby, tanking your reputation), seems alright. Since you are right in front of him at all times that way, there's no chance of him forgetting you're there. Will shush other people if they're being too loud around you. High chance of inducing cuteness aggression in him when you're asleep and softly snoring, will go for the cheeks.

Swerve: 3/10 This mech spends all his time loudly blabbering in a bar, noise needs to not be an issue for you. Similar issue with Tailgate where laying down is difficult. Unfortunately, does know what a human baby is so will coddle and humiliate you if you agree to being held. Another issue, the prankster Swerve is, you can't trust this guy to not draw on you or not steal something from you and hide it in an unreachable spot or not put you on a floatie in the middle of the oil reservoir. Gets some points cuz only HE can mess with you, anyone else tries to wake you up and they're out the bar.

Whirl: 0/10 …I mean there is literally nowhere to lay down, he's too damn skinny. You…could take a chance with his giant chassis but you'll probably slide off or look like you're in a baby holder if you strap yourself down. IF you are successful at staying in place (somehow), he would just bother you the whole time or not give a shit you're there and start running around. Worst case, he tries to use you as a meat shield to get away with annoying bots cuz "If you try to punch me, you'll punch the squishy human as well!"

Brainstorm: 3/10 Mech hangs from the ceiling sometimes. Sure, he has some alright shoulder plating to work with but his spontaneity could literally throw you off. Would allow a nap but wouldn't check on you, too absorbed in his work. If he was bored and didn't have any ideas coming to him, you could suggest a sleeping bag that attaches you to mechs you want to sleep on.

I know I've missed some bots, maybe my stress will produce a part 2.

[tojiscrack]

wherever you are right now, good morning/evening/night… that was a mouthful, but i’m not sure how else to start this.

it sounds serious, i know, it’s not, don’t worry, but i like being dramatic, haha, you know me ;) i have a small announcement to make — i say ‘small’ ‘cause it really can be done in one or two short sentences, but i’d like to give you some context and reasoning because i care about every single one of you reading this, all 470 of you, and i’d hate to leave you without an explanation.

i’m mainly addressing my LL (liar, liar) readers, ‘cause i seem to have a big following and a large number of people who interact with me because of that piece of work, but this also goes out to the very few people (and i’m not being dramatic when i say very few people, lol) who are loyal readers of SOANO (start of a new obsession).

i am going on hiatus.

yeah, i know, boo, tomatoes, the story was just getting started 😠 , etc, etc.

and i apologise.

genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, i’m truly, deeply sorry.

you’ve been forced to tolerate my extremely sporadic updates that were only just starting to get better (some updates would come weekly, whereas others would take two more weeks, but never an entire month like before). i really am sorry. i know what it feels like to enjoy a story and then be left on a cliffhanger (of sorts?) when the author goes on a hiatus — mini or not.

i think this long message will answer most of the questions you have in mind, the first being ‘how long will you be on hiatus for?’. and i do have a straight answer for that:

five months.

i know, it’s a lot. again, i apologise. i can’t apologise enough, but let’s keep the questions going.

the one i know you’re all wondering — why am i going on hiatus in the first place?

just to be clear (for those of you who have genuinely become close friends with me through interactions) i’m alive, healthy, and well! i’m not falling out of love with writing, i’ve not fallen out of love with LL or SOANO (no matter how slow the updates for the latter seems to be) and i’m not feeling pressured by writing either of these stories for you all!

the reason is quite simple… school :/ exams. MAJOR ones.

when i started writing SOANO, i was around 15 years old (give or take a few?) and i had no major exams at all to focus on. halfway through writing SOANO, i was met with my first set of important exams at 16. for those of you who are not british and/or not aware of the uk education system, GCSE’s are the exams that dictate which sixth-form college you go to. college, as in, not university-college, but the last two years of high school (junior + senior year) that are the only two years of sixthform/college.

when i started writing LL, i was in my first year of college at 17 (this time last year), and so the only ‘major’ exams i had were mock exams that would prep me for my university predicted-grades. i am now in my second (and final) year of college, and the exams during may and june will dictate the rest of my life. that includes which uni i go to, whether i’ll even go to uni at all, what course i’ll take at uni if i do end up going, etc.

you get the idea. these are important exams. the most important ones that i’ll ever have to sit this year, and starting tomorrow, i have 130 days to turn my very-average-grades around to three A’s (or perhaps two A’s and a B) to get into my desired uni.

unfortunately, i can’t do that if i spend most of my time writing up very lengthy chapters for you.

why can’t i split my time accordingly, even if it means going back to the once-a-month updates? because i am so incredibly, stupidly behind on content for the courses i’m taking right now that i can’t even afford to waste 30 minutes on doing anything other than praying and studying. that’s just the sad truth of it.

again, i’d like to apologise for the inconvenience. i’ve received so many lovely dm’s from so many of you (and i answer every single one, you know that) and in the conversations that many of us have had together, a lot of you use the story (LL) as a safe haven, an escape from your own messy school lives, almost in the same way that i use it to escape my messy school life. some of you have mentioned that you pull all-nighters simply to reread it all as if you’re reading it for the first time. a few of you have mentioned how this story was an escape from the tragic events of canon, which was exactly what i intended for it to be like during the planning process, and i’m still so overwhelmed and flattered by the growing love i’ve received from both old and new LL readers.

will the story be temporarily taken down?

absolutely not.

i considered it for a time, but after acknowledging those comments i mentioned above, i decided that what’s left of LL right now (170k+ words divided in 10 chapters) can still be a safe haven for you whenever you need it. i also knew that i wanted everything to look the same for when i’d return in late-june of this year. leaving it up would also mean that newer readers (future readers) would join the family too, and we love a full house ;)

will i still be active on tumblr during the hiatus?

yes! maybe not as frequently as before (like answering messages in my inbox every day) but i’ll definitely be active enough to get through any messages, comments, asks, etc, within the span of a week for sure. you can still tell me about your shitty day in my inbox, you can still vent to me about an encounter with a guy you hate in my dm’s, and you can definitely still send in silly things about LL or SOANO. i’ll still be active, it’ll be like i never left, only, without the fortnite-ly (not a word, i’m well aware) updates.

LL’s one year anniversary is coming up in a couple of days, and i wanted to release a new chapter in time for it, but looking at my exams and how much cramming i’m already going to have to do for it without writing on top of that… i reluctantly acknowledged that it just won’t be possible.

i think i’ve addressed everything… this is a little awkward now, lol.

once again, i apologise for any hurt or inconveniences i might’ve caused, but i myself don’t enjoy the idea of not writing for 5 months any better than you probably do. 0-0 i enjoy writing, it never felt like a chore to me, and i’m going to miss it during the next 5 months that i’ll be spending alone, grinding overtime like hermione granger…

please wait for me, my little liars <3

love, mother hen sumaya

[kittenintheden]

headcanon, subjectivity, and convincing the reader

hi! I got a wild hair to write a little essay today. here's that little essay. it's about fic writing and how our subjectivity about the source material becomes a conversation with the reader. LEZGO.

quick primer on common terms:

canon: objective, indisputable truth about the property based on what is portrayed on the page/screen. it is canon in BG3 that Astarion is a vampire spawn, it is canon that Wyll is the only son of Grand Duke Ravengard, it is canon that Lae'zel is a githyanki originating from Creché Ki'liir, etc.

headcanon: an individual's subjective interpretation of events and characters in the property based on context clues, hints, personal experience, vibes, etc.

fanon: a more widely accepted community headcanon that is not objectively supported by the property but is generally accepted as a popular interpretation of the source material.

word of god: interpretations considered truth by the creators of the property that may or may not be included in the source material itself. this includes devnotes, responses to fan questions, behind the scenes material, etc. there's much argument to be had about whether or not this is considered canon if it's not also represented in the source material itself.

okay? okay! now let's talk about transformative works (fanfiction and fanwork).

the first rule of transformative work is that there are no rules. okay? okay! to get that out of the way. which is why this is a post about subjective interpretation.

(obligatory blah blah blah obviously having basic writing skill and knowledge is helpful for communicating your ideas to the reader, we all know this)

but what makes a transformative work GOOD? what makes a reader pick up a fic, devour it, and then go "holy shit I can absolutely see how these characters in this scenario make sense. I BELIEVE in this story and this author's interpretation."?

that's where things get complicated. let's do a cut bc this is about to get lengthy!

when we become fans of a property, it's because we are the readers/viewers having a conversation with the source material. something about it caught us and spoke to us, then drove us to create more art based on it and using it as a framework. that's important.

as readers/viewers, we will always have our own subjective interpretation of the work. that interpretation is informed by the work's canon, but it's also informed by our personal experiences, feelings, and knowledge. that's where headcanons and subjectivity come in. it's why some people feel a character is "annoying" while others find them sympathetic.

(there is a MUCH BROADER conversation to be had about how social pressures and oppression also factor into this subject, but that's not my intended goal with THIS essay, so I will acknowledge the fact that a person's internalized biases also inform their perception of the material and move on).

so, we all develop our own personal headcanons about a work. it's inevitable. sometimes those headcanons are based in canon, sometimes they're based on our own experience. where they come from doesn't matter -- they are yours and they belong to you, and they will inform whatever work you create.

now comes the part where we begin a conversation with the reader.

when you're writing fic, one of your many jobs is helping the reader to understand your perspective. this is very challenging! you're essentially creating a written argument for why the characters and elements in your story are unfolding the way that they do, but you're doing so via the vehicle of creative writing. you're depending on narrative structure, dialogue, characterization, setting, plot, tropes, themes, metaphors, etc. to make your "argument."

if you've ever heard people say a character "felt flat" or that an action didn't make sense or that a fic subject is OOC (out of character), that comes from the writer failing to provide a convincing enough argument for the story they're trying to tell. (note: I use the word "fail," but I don't mean it in the sense that the project was a failure. art is never time wasted. but as with most things, it may take time to get to a place where we have the skills to tell the story we want to tell.)

so: how the hell do we work on an issue like that?

a few ways.

first and foremost, at its core, a transformative work should be in conversation with the canon of its source material. that DOES NOT MEAN that canon should be treated as a Bible and ultimate authority (people rewrite canon well all the time), but it does mean a writer needs to consider what worked about the canon to be able to apply it to their own interpretation.

if you found a character compelling in the original property, you need to understand what exactly it was about that character that made them so compelling. it isn't just how they physically look or their signature catchphrase. what about the source material drew you to them, made you empathize, turned you on, etc.?

if a particular relationship made you absolutely feral, WHAT IS IT about that dynamic that caught and kept your attention? what makes them WORK?

THAT is what the conversation with the source material is about. it's about understanding why you were moved in the first place. it's distilling the subjects down to their essence so you can put them in a different scenario without losing the core of who they are.

now you need to understand where your HEADCANON comes from.

(you will notice a running theme here that in order to properly tell a story, you have to understand the story yourself!)

our own subjective interpretation of a work is informed by the knowledge we have (I have a degree in reading and analyzing and writing creatively, it's something I literally went to school for), our personal experiences (Astarion speaks to people with a history of sexual abuse and trauma, imagine that), and emotions that rise organically when we interact with the source material, either unexpectedly (whoa I did NOT expect that to turn me on) or with understanding (animal death always makes me cry because it's upsetting to see something that doesn't understand what's happening go through that and/or I remember when I lost my own animal companion).

so! you have a headcanon that Shadowheart and Nocturne were lovers. this isn't something verified by canon, but it is a scenario that makes sense given the information we have -- they were very close, they have a secret place together surrounded by the flowers Shadowheart calls her favorite, they know intimate details about one another's lives, and their history of standing up for one another and caring about each other is clear.

how do you convince a reader that this is a viable scenario?

first, converse with the canon. all the framework is there for a potential romantic relationship. their respective personalities work together. now, determine why you enjoy this headcanon. is it the intimacy, the loyalty, the kindness? is it the hints from canon that they were important to one another? is it that they have chemistry you find interesting and appealing?

this is the argument you must make to the reader. this scenario is plausible because of canon, character, and context. now you need to build on it and add your own perspective in order to convince the reader to see it as you do.

this particular example is a pretty easy thoroughline, but the same principle can be applied to more varied scenarios. modern AU? okay, how would that change the way these characters interact with the world without losing what makes them, them? pirate AU? okay, which characters would make the most sense to fit certain roles in that scenario given their existing personalities?

there's a common refrain in my writing circles that goes: "do what you want forever." we tend to use it in a flip way to mean that this is play and creativity and you can literally do whatever you want, but the deeper message is, "you can make anything believable with the right approach."

and the "right" approach is about maintaining a conversation between yourself, the source material, your headcanons, and the story you're trying to tell. it's about bringing all those things together in a way that will convince a reader to believe it.

it's a balance, and it's one that isn't universal. no matter what we do, subjectivity means that some people will not agree with our interpretation. that's okay. not every story is for every person. what matters is that you're writing YOUR story for the readers who want to engage with it.

so, at the end of the day: do what you want forever, and do it well :)

[superconductivebean]

Just my thoughts—as a fandom hermit of sorts.

Creating for nobody but yourself is actually discouraging when it's done repulsively. You'll feel its hard slap later down the line—unless your inner reader began to enjoy you as an author. They will gradually subside your inner critic and might teach them few lessons in how to appreciate maybe not the work itself—who of us doesn't have an one we dislike in some way?—but the craftwork went behind its creation.

How to do that?

Surprisingly easy.

Watch your creative decisions. Introspect. See yourself in your work.

You are inseparable in some way or another, your reflection is present within it, and by that I imply how you felt writing it and why did you think something would or wouldn't work. The only one who usually know is you, so, if you feel something is wrong, it probably is. The best is the enemy of the good, yes, but I'm not talking about perfectionism. I'm talking about the need to listen to that tingle and being able to assess it before editing.

Perfectionism is, in a sense, artistic pessimism. It tells you everything is wrong but it can't be an objective truth. Then some scenes must be wrong, and alright, good, the field is narrowed down. Which ones? Where? Why? At that point, put the work away for a day or two, then re-open, re-see, realise, that yes, that could be improved, except it isn't a scene. It's a sloppy word choice. It changed the sentence, that avalanched into a little rearrangement, and voila, everything works.

You fight the pessimistic outlook with a little bit of rest.

The more you learn how to treat your work, the more you might grow excited to try new things and not because you want to show them to the world but first to yourself.

That little part of you is who actually matter. Learn to love these little emotion abstractions. Care for the little guy, nurse them, feed them different ideas, styles, work them up to your master and see yourself forming in directions you'd never thought you would be able to simply because them—you—wanted to try something new. It would not matter if those were successful or not; when the entire process is a journey, the output's performance begins to matter very little.

Besides, the little guy would want company—and that's when other people come in. The reader doesn't like negative responses or no responses at all, true. Know who does? Your inner critic.

They're all too eager to overthink things and they're the perpetrator of your pessimism. So make them analyse why something clicks for many people and why something goes under their radar, make them a little analytics-building machine (which is also a skill), and just keep its outputs close in case you're curious how different fandoms or communities work. It's mostly a useless information. But you will be certain about things, and certainty brings comfort.

It will help to find readers in case you'd need more, too. Or if you'd like to meet someone new. But is it a guaranteed method? No, it isn't. Sometimes you'll write the most influential fandom monsterfic and all these people will pass by. Othertimes you'd write the smallest fic in the fandom but all its people will get around it because they liked your take on things or became curious with your ideas—and they can actually stuck around. You may never know. Fandom isn't business, it is rather a wild fair with barely predictable events in its main mystery.

Besides.

You can't make yourself a miracle to everyone; but be the miracle to yourself, and people will notice it and will try to comprehend you. Be Original, they say. They lie. They want the same jacket but red. Or the same jacket but sewn from kelps. Be Familiar But Be Outland-ish. Do your thing, that everybody else does, in your own fascinating way. Be the artist after all, be that bitch and leave people with the art-shaped holes in their thoughts.

I used to play an instrument once. I was bad at it, well, I was taught poorly and was only ever learning how to play from the sheets. It never go outwith or far and the instrument is long-sold, but I'm still able to recall the emotions I had while playing it. Heartbeat was the metronome, the hands were going in perfect synch, the entire body was able to feel the timings, and at some point, it wasn't simply the flow and going along with it. It was being the flow. The architect behind its creation—well, yes, the music wasn't mine, but being able to recreate it and make it sound as it supposed to sound was utterly captivating, enamouring, absolutely wondrous experience.

Years later I became enamoured with the writing—the process of it. If I manage to build the flow correctly and sail down my own rivers with little to no bump, unless planned, I'm overjoyed and amazed.

But will it go far? How well will it perform? Sometimes I do care if I know people might be interested, but beyond that, it's just doing its thing and bringing me joy because it's a puzzle, because it's a never-ending fascination—and because it's even more than that when done in the completely different tongue. And people take to it. Because it looks fun, perhaps, or it's something they had rarely seen before done in the language, or maybe it's just the way I tend to pick words and arrange them. I always get different answers. But what I know for certain: that something I found within me works both for me and people liking my things.

That what matters.

It all might sound a tad bit mental but it's so important to be in harmony with yourself as an author, as a reader, and as your own critic—who else knows you as much as you? Don't forget the people you have—the crowds will come and go, but the friends will stay.

Maybe this is a hot take, but as creative people, our #1 priority in our work should be ourselves.

It is not, AND SHOULD NEVER BE, what would get us the most engagement. Dispel "content creation," popularity, and monetization from your brain. Write, paint, draw what you want to! HOLY SHIT!!!!!!

The people who resonate with it will eventually show up. But the people who don't? Who cares???? The art you personally create is meant to help you heal, to help you express, to bring you joy and pain!!!!

You need to learn how to work on something because you deeply care for it and can revel in that self-satisfaction. Of course recognition feels fucking great! We all want it. We are humans, but you need to stop creating with the idea of other people consuming your work!!!

Give into the art movement. Create a renaissance for yourself. Fuck other people. Be that bitch! People are not going to be in your lives forever, and when you're left to your own devices, you should be able to look at what you've created and fucking love it.

[fe-fictions]

I am once again asking for a fredrobin fic where Robin drinks poisoned wine meant for Chrom because she couldn't tell anyone in time, and it was the only way she could think of to save him. (She'll be alright but the Angst for our dear freddybear)

(So my plan to write 100 Fredrobin stories by the end of 2024 was immediately ruined when I started this prompt...so here's a 20+ page angst-filled dramafest to kick off 2025 instead! U V U )

A banquet was set to be held with Plegian envoys in the name of goodwill. Aversa, who had found herself the unwitting ruler of the desert kingdom, would be reuniting with you since the defeat of Valm and the subsequent death of Grima.

While you and the fellow Shepherds who had fought arm in arm with her were looking forward to a feast for the ages, others felt quite the opposite. Frederick himself had his concerns; although he trusted Aversa, it was the nobility none of you had met that had him on edge.

Well, him and every other Ylissean member of the court who would also be in attendance. You had your own concerns, considering tensions were still bubbling despite the past few years’ attempts at forming a peaceful bond between nations.

But in spite of the wariness, you still felt excitement in your heart as you readied yourself for the grand meal, set to take place only an hour after noon.

“Darling, have you seen the necklace you gifted me in Ferox during the first war?” You called to him from the bedroom, while fastening a handsome pair of earrings. 

You received a hum in response, his voice carrying from the washroom. “Are you certain that’s the necklace you want to wear today? I’m not sure Plegia would appreciate you wearing jewelry forged during the war we defeated them in.”

“Nonsense. They won’t know that. I wanted to wear it because Aversa always liked it. She said it was rather attractive; and was impressed that you had bought something so ‘sickeningly perfect’. I think she’d appreciate the callback.”

“Hmm…now I am even less certain it is a good idea.” He appeared from the washroom, holding a familiar, delicate chain in his hands. “That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“It was, I promise.” You reassured him while you pulled your hair to the side, giving him access to the nape of your neck. “Her sense of humor is still developing.”

“I understand.” He stood behind you, the warmth of his fingers slipping the chain around your neck sending shivers down your spine. Frederick smiled to himself as he fastened the clasp. You were so cute, without even trying.

“Thank you, dear.” You tilted your head back to look at him, pulling your gaze from the mirror to your husband. “Are you ready to go?”

“As ready as I ever will be, I suppose.” Frederick sighed, offering his hand. You rose to lean against him, your chests touching as you scrutinized his gaze.

“It’s going to be fine.” A scoff met your reassurance, but the two of you continued on your way, exiting your quarters in the castle to greet your guests.

The Plegian embassy that arrived at the front gates was handsome, and brought many gifts. Aversa, leading the charge, looked as devastatingly beautiful as always and wore a knowing grin that proved it.

Yet her eyes sparkled at the sight of you, all but ignoring the king, queen and high princess to address you directly (she at least had the good sense to greet them formally before she lasered in on you).

“Well, well…if it isn’t the Chief Tactician, back from the dead…” She bowed deeply, “Why, you haven’t aged a day!”

“It’s good to see you too, Aversa.” You beamed at her, slipping away from Frederick’s side to offer her a proper embrace. Aversa welcomed you with open arms.

“You have no idea how boring it was without you…I know we reunited properly months ago, but it feels like I've barely seen you since. You may as well have just come back yesterday!”

“It’s terrible, isn’t it? I’ll make more of an effort to come visit.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Otherwise I’ll simply kidnap you and whisk you back to Plegia!!”

“Do refrain from making such statements, milady. As the monarch of another kingdom that may be perceived as a threat by those around us.” Frederick spoke up quickly, as if the tension rolling off his shoulders wasn’t already blatantly obvious.

He glanced back at Chrom, Sumia  and Lissa, who simply chuckled when Aversa rolled her eyes.

“Oh, Frederick. You are my brother-in-law; surely you should understand the difference between a joke and a threat.” She sighed, relinquishing you back to your husband.

You patted his arm, “She’s right, dear; but thank you for always looking out for the kingdom. A true knight.”

“Indeed.” Chrom agreed, waving everyone in, “Now, shall we go and celebrate? This is quite the occasion! The first effort of goodwill between Ylisse and Plegia in forty years.”

“I hope it is magnificent, Lord Chrom.” Aversa’s eyes narrowed, “We brought some of our finest wine for this event, and we have high expectations for Ylissean cuisine.”

“You won’t be disappointed!” Lissa said, as bouncy and bubbly as ever. The troupe of nobles and royalty were quite a sight, drawing eyes from all over the castle. You squeezed Frederick’s arm; maybe this was a bigger deal than you had first thought.

And you already thought this was a huge deal.

Frederick covered your hand with his, a small comfort as the lot of you reached the banquet hall. It was a majestic, almost glorious, display.

Lights of all colors danced across the room from the immense stained glass windows. The spread was vast and diverse in palate, ornate chalices at each seat to be filled and countless dishes waiting to be devoured.

The Plegian envoy murmured to themselves in surprise. You bit back a giggle when Chrom’s chest puffed up ever so slightly; it appeared even he was proud of the extravagant luncheon.

“My, my…it appears I underestimated you, Lord Chrom. I doubt there’s a word strong enough to describe this display.”

“As much as I’d love to take the credit, that honor goes to the queen and your sister; they were the ones who put together the menu.”

“We did extensive research into each member of the envoy’s favorite dishes from Plegia. Everything from festival foods to home-cooking were taken into consideration!” Sumia said, practically bubbling over with excitement.

It was only the beginning of what was surely a joyous occasion. Everyone headed for their seats, with your place between Chrom and Aversa across from your husband (requested specifically by your sister; though Frederick was reluctant to agree despite “getting you all to himself”, according to her).

Just as your husband pulled your chair out, you hesitated; the table was clearly missing one of your most anticipated dishes.

“Oh, dear- it appears we’ve left something after all.” You huffed, looking back at your sister. “There’s something special I wanted to add specifically to your plate, Aversa. I know Gaius finished it a little while ago…and I wanted to give it directly to you.”

“And she wonders why she is my most favored sibling.” Aversa’s lips curled into a mischievous grin. “I can buy you a few moments if you want to scurry off and get it; you have that glint in your eye that says it must be here.” 

“Of course- Frederick dear, could you please make sure everyone else is seated and ready? I’ll only be a few moments.”

“Whatever you need. But do hurry; they will be pouring the drinks and preparing to toast soon.”

“I’ll be back in no time.” You promised, squeezing his hand before you hurried from the banquet hall.

The excited chattering that filled the room faded away as you hurried down the hallways into the kitchens. There were several butlers and maidservants that passed you by, their hands all filled with even more dishes that would soon be added to the spread.

The clamoring of joyous anticipation had filled the whole of the castle, it seemed. It made your heart swell with hopefulness.

You giggled to yourself, hustling into the kitchen and spotting the thief-turned-chef putting the finishing touches on one of the (several) desserts being prepared for the end of the meal.

“Well, well! What brings you here, Bubbles? You’re cuttin’ it awful close.”

“Sorry to disturb you, I know everyone’s trying to focus.” You said, maneuvering around the equally bustling sous chefs and kitchen staff. They were all performing their duties spectacularly, and you didn’t wish to interrupt their focus amidst the chaos of cooking.

“Then you’d best hurry up and talk- we’re runnin’ on a pretty strict schedule!” Gaius replied coolly, his relaxed expression suggesting this wasn’t as stressful a situation to him than it was the flittering staff surrounding you.

“The dish I asked you to make for Aversa– it wasn’t at her seat like we planned. Do you know where it is?”

“Right…” Gaius leaned back from the decadent cake he was frosting (and maybe stealing a lick of icing for himself), “That meager little thing. Y’know, it’s around here, I remember making it a little while ago. Couldn’t have wandered far…”

He gestured towards the oven, where a rack of breads and baked goods ready to go to the banquet were waiting. Yours shouldn’t be too hard to find, surely.

“I still don’t know why that’s the one you wanted to go for; I mean, it’s just rastons*. Not exactly fit for a royal feast.”

“That’s precisely why I wanted them just for the two of us.” You replied as you rifled around the shelves, searching among the warm breads for the little butter-filled buns you had requested.

“I mean, I guess. But of all the food you’re gonna eat, that’s what you wanna go for?”

“Just shut up and help me look.” You rolled your eyes at him, the pair of you sifting through the baked goods until you found exactly what you were looking for.

A humble set of four bread rolls, each one just as handsome and humble as you hoped. You smiled to yourself, hurriedly taking a small bowl and settling them inside. 

“Don’t worry; we’ll have plenty of room for the rest of the food you cooked. We just have to start with these!”

“Whatever, Bubbles. Just get back up there before everyone starts wondering where the star of the show is.”

“That’s Aversa and Chrom.” You corrected him, but did concede that you needed to get a move on. You thanked him on your way out, having spent only a few moments out of the way.

It was halfway back that you saw something strange. A servant that was following the lines to the hall suddenly stepped off to the side. Your brow furrowed, curiosity piqued.

You slowed down when you caught the servant looking behind them; that behavior was more than shady. The rastons were left on a windowsill, your shoes slipped off before you snuck after them.

After turning a couple corners, you followed them into a corridor that was tucked away from wandering eyes. 

Swiftly you ducked behind some old royal’s bust, watching as they pulled something from their glove.

No, not something; a vial.

A small, green vial.

Your brow furrowed, unable to make out what they were doing with it. You heard the soft pop of the cork, the sound of liquid pouring into liquid just barely reaching your ears from the distance you watched from.

But you couldn’t see what it was being poured into. There were plenty of drinks and sauces that were to be served over the next couple of hours. Whatever it was for, it couldn’t be good. 

“Has anyone seen Toumant?” 

You swiveled back, finding two butlers heading down the corridor. It seemed the voices carried far enough that the other servant heard it, too.

“I didn’t see him in line- did he get lost again?”

“Wouldn’t put it past him…he’s still in training.” You darted away, careful to avoid the pair taking a sharp turn down the adjacent hall. Your thoughts blurred together, adrenaline spiking your heart rate.

What did “Toumant” do? A servant-in-training; a new hire?

The butlers had reached the man and told him to get back to the banquet procession.

There was no time to waste. Shoes abandoned, you rushed to the grand hall, a cacophony of raucous noise all but shocking you out of your thoughts, drawing you back into the reality of the situation.

Everyone was seated, eagerly awaiting the end of the servants’ bringing in the last of the food for the preliminary courses. 

Every single person at that table was important. And if anything happened to one of them…you could kiss unity goodbye. Not even Aversa would be able to stop the chaos that would ensue if the wrong person was hurt.

“Robin, there you are! Come take your seat, dearie. We’re just about to pour the drinks.” Aversa called to you, her smile sweet.

You nodded, but your eyes were elsewhere; darting over each of the dishes laid out, ready to be eaten. None of them seemed to be tampered with. Everything looked great. Normal.

You swept over the surrounding servants; there were dozens of people milling about the table, still setting things out and bringing in more and more-

Toumant.

The last of the servants filtered in just as you took your seat, watching the pair of butlers usher in the third and final individual before they shut the grand doors.

“Looks like we’re ready to begin!” Chrom announced, rising from his seat. At his word a number of servants stepped forward, decanters filled with dark, rich Plegian wine in their hands. One of the butlers who had arrived with Toumant had a decanter as well. 

You watched as everyone went around the table, the goblets filled with alcohol. Aversa rose to her feet as well, holding out her own cup that was obediently filled as she spoke.

“In the name of peace and unity among our people…”

You weren’t sure who to watch – Toumant was shifting between bodies, seemingly trying to retreat back towards the walls as more wine was brought forward to fill those waiting.

“...It is my great honor to open this glorious celebration with Plegia’s greatest pride; our precious cinsault grape wine. We all hope that you find it as delightful as the meal which follows. This is truly a historic time for both our nations…”

The wine. Toumant’s gaze seemed to shift at its mention, lingering on Chrom for half a second. You followed his eyes; Chrom’s drink was being poured. 

You looked to Frederick, who seemed to be wholly invested in the speech. You tried to signal to him discreetly, but your ever-patriotic beloved was utterly enthralled with Aversa and Chrom’s words.

“...And hope that this will be the beginning of a prosperous and beautiful new relationship that will stand for centuries to come.”

You waited until the butler stepped away, eying the goblet. Your own had just been filled, a different servant with a different decanter. A different…color…?

Just slightly. 

Just slightly lighter than yours. Whatever was in that decanter was different from Chrom’s. Your heart pounded in your ears. The rest of the speech lasted only seconds longer, drowned out by the panic building in your head.

Aversa held her goblet high, taking the first sip as a symbolic gesture. She and Chrom took their seats, as the others raised their cups.

It was fortuitous that Chrom’s goblet was within reach. You slipped it away from his place, swapping it with your own. He didn’t seem to notice the movement; no one did. They were far too enthralled with the incoming feast.

You took his goblet into your hands, fingers shaking. Frederick looked to you with his warmest smile, unaware something was wrong. Not yet.

“Frederick-” You mouthed to him, the cups raised for the toast. He locked eyes with you, brow furrowing just slightly. “Someone’s trying to-”

“To Plegia and Ylisse!!” 

Aversa and Chrom said in unison, echoed by all those at the table. Everyone took their drinks up, your eyes falling to the drink. If it was poisoned…it should at least be you, shouldn’t it? Although it wouldn’t be difficult to pretend.

You raised the goblet to your lips, the liquid touching just briefly before you lowered it back to the table. You didn't ingest anything-- surely it was fine. Frederick's expression had relaxed when you met his eyes again, looking over at you with great pride.

“I’d say this is going just splendidly, wouldn’t you, Robin?” Aversa beamed, her cheeks flushed with the excitement of having made such a rousing speech. Perhaps that and the wine she already drained from her full goblet.

You looked to Chrom, who appeared to be equally flushed and bright with optimism. He had swallowed the wine, too; he seemed fine.

“Robin?”

The table blurred, your gaze shifting towards the back wall, searching for Toumant. He stood close to the doors- he looked confused.

“Robin, dear, are you all right?” 

Aversa’s voice was static in your ears. You blinked- which only served to make the blurry room spin. You could’ve sworn you heard Chrom and Frederick asking you a question, but they sounded miles away.

Your hands trembled, reaching out to try and steady yourself.

You weren’t sure if you missed, or you grabbed something wrong.

There was a clatter, the world fell out from under you, and a sharp pain stabbed into your chest.

You couldn’t breathe.

The good news was that your suspicions were correct.

The bad news was you tasted copper in your mouth.

The last thing you saw was the stone floor, trembling hands, and blood spattering between your fingers.

Then…nothing.

Frederick didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. You mouthed something to him, just as everyone raised their drinks.

Success was paramount, and everything was going perfectly. Had you found those rolls you left for? He hadn’t seen you return with anything.

By the time he lowered his goblet, your own had just barely passed your lips. Perhaps it wasn’t to your taste. A shame; it was truly delicious.

“I’d say this is going swimmingly. Look at all those pleased, round faces.” Aversa commented to him, gesturing to the ambassadors and nobility who were already digging in. “This may end better than I’d hoped.” 

“The speech that you and Lord Chrom gave set the perfect mood, milady. I wasn’t certain at first, but I must cautiously agree.”

“Surely you needn’t ‘cautiously’ agree. Can’t you simply ‘agree’, brother-in-law?” Aversa rolled her eyes, shaking her head at you. “Honestly, what do you see in this oversized worrywart, Robin?”

Frederick smiled into his drink; there were countless things. You had told him so many a time when he asked a similar question many years ago.

“Robin?”

He looked up from the goblet, finding a strange expression on your face. You looked disoriented. Almost pained.

Aversa’s tone shifted, setting her cup down to reach out for you.

“Robin, dear, are you all right?”

Frederick’s smile disappeared. You weren’t responding. Your face was pale. Chrom seemed to notice as well, touching your shoulder.

“Robin? What’s wrong?”

“My love, are you-”

Suddenly you fell from your chair, taking your place setting down with you. You grabbed at the mat, causing all of your tableware to crash and shatter on the stone floor.

Frederick’s chair crashed to the floor. He raced to you, desperate to help. You were braced on hands and knees, surrounded by broken glass. 

“Robin!!” 

“What the hells is going on?!”

Frederick grasped your shoulders, trying to hold you up. To his horror, your eyes were glazed over. Your skin was paper white, and blood-

Gods, there was blood dripping from your mouth.

“Gods, Robin!!” Lissa screeched, the cleric came to your side as the room descended into chaos. 

“Clerics- send for clerics, immediately!!” Aversa ordered, the ambassadors and servants alike all rushing towards the doors in a panic. The pandemonium was growing around them. 

But to your husband, the nightmare was happening right in front of him. He took you up in his arms, your breathing becoming shallower and quicker in the few seconds he’d lifted you from the floor to his chest. 

“Where is your stave??”

“The medical wing- there are emergency supplies in the councilroom!! It’s the closest-”

Frederick sprinted to the doors, forcing his way through the crowd that was filling the narrowing space in a horrific panic. Ice filled his veins, your entire body spasming. A trembling hand grasped at his chest, trying desperately to find purchase.

You were fading. Fast.

“Out of the way!! Everyone, out of the way!!” He bellowed, brute-forcing his way through bodies. His tactics only fomented further panic, uncoordinated nobles stumbling to the floor and servants hitting walls.

There was no time.

Lissa followed closely behind him, the two of them finally breaking out of the crowd and hurtling down the corridor. Frederick couldn’t have run faster- he was sprinting to the councilroom, feeling your heartbeat soften in each footstep. 

The spasming was slowing down- the blood was spilling faster.

“Hold on- hold on, love, please-!!” 

Lissa somehow had rushed in front of him, pulling open doors and making beeline for the chest in the furthest corner.

“Put her on the table!!” She shouted to him, pulling the Caduceus staff out. 

Frederick cradled your head, lowering you onto the massive table. He ripped the heavy chairs away, making space for Lissa to get to work. 

“She can’t breathe– can you cut the neckline–” 

He ripped the knife from his coat lining. He cut away the fabric, and snapped the necklace away.

The glow of the healing staff wasn’t changing anything. Healing spells were spilling from Lissa’s mouth, the magic shifting from your chest to your stomach, to holding it over your head.

Frederick grasped your hand, fingers pressed against your wrist. Your pulse was-

“Lissa, we’re losing her!”

“I-it’s not enough, I need more help!!” She managed between spells, panic rising in her voice. “It’s poison– it’s spread all over!!”

The breath flew from his lungs.

“Poison-?!” Chrom’s voice broke from behind them. He and Aversa raced into the room, the both of them looking utterly frightened.

“We need clerics, a-and antidotes, and anyone you can find who can hold a staff! She’s running out of time!!”

Aversa flew from the room, shouting hysterically with anger and fear. Someone poisoned Ylisse’s chief tactician. The queen of Plegia’s only sister.

Frederick’s sole reason for living.

“Robin, please–” His voice trembled, feeling your pulse weaken. “Please, my love, please–” 

Sobs were intermingling with Lissa’s spells, panic overriding all of their senses. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It couldn’t end like this.

“Lissa…!!”

Your pulse stopped.

A heartrending cry he would later realize was his ripped through the room. He would not register the room suddenly filling with healers, whipping past him and surrounding your body. 

Aversa was bellowing orders, demanding answers, demanding retribution– Frederick’s knees gave out, slamming to the ground, his hand limply relinquishing yours.

A hand on his shoulder –Chrom, someone– pulling him away from his wife.

“They need room to work, we need to go.”

He sounded miles away. His eyes lingered on your form until you were blockaded by the healers.

The hands multiplied on his shoulders and arms, pulling him back. He couldn’t find the energy to resist.

It was all he could do to keep his eyes on you, before the bodies surrounded you and the doors slammed shut.

The echo that followed the massive doors lingered in the air. And the Exalt, the Queen and the knight could only stand there, numb from the shock of what just happened.

“...Who did this?”

Aversa’s shaking voice was the first to break through the silence. 

“Who would dare…??”

“Poison…isn’t something commonly used in Ylisse.” Chrom said, brow furrowed as he tried to sort out his thoughts. “To do it now, of all times…this was an attempt to prevent peace before it could even happen.”

“We worked too hard. We worked too hard for this to be what comes of our efforts. To target Robin–” Aversa’s voice was little more than a burning hiss, her eyes widened with rising fury. “We must find the culprit. Immediately. If anything happens to her- if Robin does not survive, then–”

“Chrom!” Lissa’s voice lifted through the fog of their anxiety, breathless in the doorway. Frederick was the first to her side, the princess’ eyes dark. 

“Milady, is she–?”

“We’ve put her in stasis. The poison’s spread so far into her system that if we didn’t stop everything, she’d…”

Chrom’s hands were on his shoulders suddenly; ah…his legs nearly gave out, again.

You were at death’s door.

“What can we do?”

“We’ve identified the poison; what we need is an antidote.” 

“Name it.” Frederick stepped closer, jaw clenched. “Whatever she needs, I will find it.”

“It’s from the Plegian Duskviper. It has an elapid venom that normally would kill within seconds of being ingested…coming into contact with skin requires absorption, which can delay its impact for a few minutes. We think that’s what happened to Robin.”

“We have antivenom in Plegia’s capital. It’s a shy creature, very rarely encountered…but for the few imbeciles who would try to mess with one, we have a number of potions set aside in major hospitals.”

“How long would it take to retrieve?”

“If we can teleport, a few hours. Is there anyone-”

“Miriel and Laurent live 10 minutes away. Lord Chrom, please summon the Head Mage. She and Aversa will be able to start the teleportation spell in the meantime. Naga willing, we will save her.”

“We will.” Chrom swore to him, “But you should stay with her. Sumia can get to the mages faster with her pegasus.”

Frederick would have debated that, but the prospect  of leaving your side was less attractive than staying with you.

So instead, he agreed to stay. And the lot of them split, sprinting in whatever directions were needed. Frederick remained at the doors, Lissa assuring him that as soon as it was all right for him to see you, she would allow him in.

For now, he would wait. Trust that they would be able to save you…and pray he would not lose you again.

The slurring voices around you were difficult to decipher. At one point you remembered screaming.

You remembered trying to scream, but your jaw was clamped shut by an indescribable, inescapable pain that pierced through to your very bones.

You remembered…blurry faces, and sobbing, more screaming. Familiar warmth that quickly turned into searing heat, overwhelmed by a cold that suddenly turned to nothing.

A dreamless sleep.

Eventually, though…the world began to shift.

A strange pressure rose in your chest. As though there was no breath in your lungs. You felt a groan in your throat, trying to pull the air back in.

A coughing fit ripped you from the bleary darkness and forced you back into the world.

You felt a small hand on your back, rubbing circles while another pressed something to your lips. Water? Water.

You swallowed obediently, grunting at the dull stabbing in your throat.

The more you woke up, the more pain you felt.

“Easy, Robin…deep breaths. You’re all right.”

A thousand little needles were prickling into you all at once. Waves of pain that you couldn’t reach pressed deep into your body, far deeper than your skin.

What on earth was going on?

“Can you hear me? Do you feel okay?”

You nodded, then shook your head. A tired laugh followed, another cup pressed to your lips. The liquid had a taste; far more bitter.

“This will help soothe the pain and relax your muscles. I’m afraid there isn’t much more we can do until your body’s ready for another healing session. For now, please rest…let me help you…”

The voice became clearer, eventually recognizable as Lissa’s sweet tone. 

Your brow furrowed, trying to open your eyes. It felt like ages before you were able to see her. When the vision finally did come, it was quite blurred.

But the glassy blue eyes surrounded by a halo of soft, blonde hair was a blur you could recognize.

“Lis…”

Your voice was a thousand miles away. But she heard it.

“I’m here. I’m here, Robin…you’re okay.” Her hand touched your neck; it was a cool touch, but welcome. “Don’t push too hard. Can you finish the medicine?”

The cup returned to your lips. A  scrunch in your nose, your brow furrowed just so. The numbness that had enveloped your limbs was replaced slowly with a tingling sensation across your body.

“Attagirl.” The cup emptied, easing the tingling sensation.

Or perhaps the bitterness of the medicine that was still thick in your throat was distracting you from the other discomforts.

“I’ll get you some more water…oh, and I should let the others know you’re awake. Frederick will be beside himself!”

It took some effort, but you were able to turn your head to the side, watching the blurry figure scurry around the room. She was coming more into focus now; wearing medical garb instead of that lovely dress she was in earlier…

Your eyes focused further; the strange dark smatterings across the smock was blood.

“Is that…mine?”

“Hm? Oh.” She followed your eyes, brushing her fingers across the fabric. “Well…yes. You were in a bad way, Robin. It was close.” 

“What was it?”

“Poison. Though…I suspect you knew that.” Lissa returned to your side, a cup of mercifully clear liquid in it. Gingerly, she helped you lean back against the pillows, somewhere between sitting up and lying back.

The hand that came up to take the water from her trembled violently. Not quite ready to do that, yet.

“There was a name you kept repeating when you were coming back around. You were so feverish, we weren’t sure if it was gibberish or what, but– we discovered it was someone pretending to be a servant.”

“Toumant.”

“That's it.” She agreed, “Aversa locked that man down within hours. He was halfway out of a tavern window, but Frederick caught him.”

“He did?”

“I didn’t see it, but Aversa said it was amazing– he broke the man’s nose with a single strike, then just kept hitting him!! Gods, I wish I could’ve seen it. They won’t be able to interrogate the guy until they can get his jaw back in place.”

“H-he broke his jaw?” You were definitely waking up, now. You hoped you simply misheard, but Lissa nodded vigorously.

“Oh gosh, yes- it went on way longer than it should’ve, because Aversa was the first one in. She was cheering him on before Chrom came in, and he was the one who had to pry Frederick off that traitor! It was quite a sight, I’ve been told.”

It left you at a loss for words. It must have been much worse than you first thought.

“Is he…are they here?”

“I think Frederick and Aversa are waiting outside– do you feel up to seeing them? You’ve gone through a lot, today…if you need some more time alone, it’s okay.”

You shook your head, motioning for her to open the doors.

“My husband’s already broken enough bones.” 

The princess would abide by your request, and passed through the door to address the pair of people hovering in front of it.

You leaned back into the pillows, blinking slowly up at the ceiling. You were feeling much more alert, and your vision was almost back to normal.

Just in time to hear the squabbling beyond the door. And, when it finally opened again…

It was your husband who stepped through first. He searched the medical bay for only a moment before his eyes fell on your bed.  His expression shifted to something unreadable. It was a mixture of sadness and relief that was impossible to look away from.

Then he locked eyes with you.

A soft gasp fell from his lips. In six strides Frederick crossed the room and reached your bedside. Without a word, his arms came around you, all but lowering his entire frame onto yours from where you laid.

If you could lift your arms, you would. All you could do was take in his sweet warmth, his embrace tightening with each breath he felt you take.

“My love…” His words were a fragile whisper, “...Robin, I…a-are you all right?”

He pulled back, just enough to look you over. The brimming tears in his eyes made your heart lurch. 

“Does anything hurt? The antivenom, I…I was told it would be difficult to ingest, and…” You lost track of his words, the worried rambling only growing quicker as he continued his inspection.

His hand touched your cheek, then your neck and shoulder, sliding down your arm as the other wandered across your stomach, searching for any discomfort you might be feeling.

The same hands that were wrapped in bandages, faded spots of blood seeping through the linen where his knuckles should be clean.

You looked up at him, his gaze sweeping up and down your frame in search of missed injury,  rambling on about something related to the poisoning.

He did not stop until a small hand reached up, and cupped his cheek.

“Frederick,”

His breath hitched, his body stilled. Delicate fingers fell to his collar, tugging him weakly forward. Obediently, longingly,  the distance between you faded.  

When your lips touched, he finally paused. The kiss was soft, slow to start. Frederick had stuttered against your advances, but melted into it without a second thought. He pressed into you, breaking apart for a whisper of a breath before he returned it, harder, more urgent.

It was difficult to pull away from him, harder still to catch your breath. Frederick’s cheeks flushed, gingerly settling you back into the pillows.

“Forgive me. I…I did not mean to get ahead of myself. Gods, and while you’re recovering from-”

“It’s okay.” Your whisper drew away the guilt, your trembling hand returning to his cheek darkened the blush.

“Darling…” He covered your hand with his, leaning into your touch. Your fingers were still unsteady against his warmth, but he found it reassuring. A sobering reminder of what could have been.

What almost was.

“I heard…you…broke a lot of bones.”

He scoffed, “A coward almost killed my wife. Had I not been stopped, I would have done far worse than break bones. That was a mercy.”

“He wasn’t– trying to poison me.” You swallowed, “I-it was Chrom. I switched the cups when…I figured out what w-was going on.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His face was tight, lowering your hand to his heart.

“I tried.” You shook your head, “I didn’t know what to do. I thought if I didn’t drink it, I’d be fine.”

“If it were any other poison, perhaps it would have been. It was Duskviper venom.” He informed you gravely. Your stomach flipped.

“Duskviper…? I-I should be dead.”

“The healers put you in stasis for hours. Aversa retrieved antivenom from Plegia, and they were able to reverse its effects before it was too late. But it was…it was close.”

You looked away, squeezing his fingers tight. “I’m so sorry, Frederick. You must’ve been…so scared.”

He was silent, intertwining his fingers between yours. 

“I just didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what was going on until it was too late. And if I’d known it was Duskviper, of all things…”

“What matters is you are safe.” He sighed softly, drawing you into his embrace once more. “You are still with me. You are still here.”

“I am.” You promised, nuzzling into his chest.

His heartbeat had steadied; it was back to the strong, slow thump that had soothed your deepest anxieties countless times. 

He threaded his fingers in your hair, stroking tenderly. He relished such soft moments; to think he had been mere seconds from watching it all slip away, again.

You wanted to stay in his arms forever. There was no safer place than snuggled up with your big, brown bear. But the impatient knocking on the door suggested it was time you let other visitors in.

Frederick reluctantly withdrew, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I’m sure it is Aversa. She has been waiting patiently…”

“Are you willing to share me yet?” You mused, in spite of the weariness in your voice. Frederick kissed you once more, before he forced himself to leave your bedside.

“If you wish to hear my honest answer, certainly not. I would rather whisk you away to the mountains…far from anyone else for at least a fortnight...perhaps two.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a vacation, if you’re offering.”

“Then I shall arrange it, immediately.” Frederick decided as he opened the door, just in time for Aversa to burst in with a wild look in her eyes. She was hunting for you, rather than searching- and once she locked onto you, she all but sprinted over.

“Sister!!” 

She rushed to you, elegant fingernails immediately digging into your shoulders. She wrapped you up in a tight hug, settling you firmly against her chest.

“Gently, Aversa– she’s only just woken!” Frederick hurried back to you, preparing to wrestle her off of you. She all but growled at him, hugging you closer.

“Please, I’m the one who brought the antidote!! I should be allowed a few moments to hold my only sister! Besides, you were doing more than hugging before you finally let me in. I’m sure her pains have eased by now.”

“That’s the medicine, I’m sure…” You coughed some, which finally saw Aversa’s release. She held your face in her hands, her sharp eyes betrayed by the tear stains on her cheeks.

“Do you have any idea how frightened we were?? And when you pulled half the table down with you! What in Grima– what in Naga’s name were you thinking?!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought if I didn’t drink it, then–”

“Oh, please. You know better than to put strange liquids anywhere close to your body!! Did I teach you nothing?”

“You taught me plenty.”  You giggled, though it only seemed to upset her further.

“Honestly, you fool…what were we supposed to do if you really died?? You think Naga would give you a third chance at life? And what about us?? Did you think for a second what it would do to poor Frederick? Haven’t you tormented us enough?”

“I was trying to protect Chrom. That’s all on my mind in that moment.” You looked past her to your husband hovering behind the cross woman.

“If Chrom is meant to die by assassination, so be it. You are no longer to put yourself between anyone and yourself, do you understand me? Or so help me gods, I will come to the afterlife and kill you again!”

“Again, Aversa, I would caution you to refrain from such language…especially given the events of today.”

“I speak nothing but the truth.” She huffed, giving you one more squeeze. “Though, there is one thing on my mind.”

You laid back again, prompting Frederick to come to your side and help prop you more comfortably. His hand lingered on your shoulder.

“What was so important you left the banquet in the first place? Even he wouldn’t say what was going on.”

“I asked Gaius to bake rastons for us.” You explained softly, and her breath hitched. “I haven’t seen you in so long, and we had so many fond memories eating them together on the campaign…I thought it might be nice to reminisce a little.”

She stared at you in utter disbelief; that surely couldn’t be the reason.

“Robin, you…” Aversa hiccuped, shaking her head before all but tackling you into another hug. “You sweet, stupid thing!!”

“I love you, too, Sister.” You chuckled, holding her close. Frederick knelt beside you, putting a gentle arm around you both.

He and Aversa had grown close in your time apart; your loss had bonded them in grief, which had blossomed into a true, familial relationship that only made your time together sweeter.

He was a kind, patient big brother…as he was a loving husband. You leaned into him, committing this moment to memory. In spite of the pain, the fear and the horrific events that preceded it…being wrapped in an embrace with the most important and beautiful people in your life was something you would never regret.

It was an important reminder of what you had, and what you would never allow yourself to lose, again. And considering your recovery was spent with the two of them hovering around you constantly, it seemed that sentiment was held by them both, as well.

As if you needed reason to love them more than you did already.

Rastons are a medieval bread roll that are stuffed with butter..very simple, very delicious! Robin introduced them to Aversa during the campaign, and she fell in love with them... whenever they got their hands on them, it was quite a treat! U V U

[xmads-omensx]

Word Count: 1,639

Pairing: Best friend! Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: swearing, arguments, Noah is bad at feelings and so is Y/N

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @chey-h @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp

Thanks @alwaysfightforwhoyouare for the idea, and sorry it took me so long to actually write since we were talking about this before New Years lmao.

Extra inspo:

NOAH POV

She was beautiful.

I found myself stealing glances at her whenever I could. It was impossible not to. Even when I didn’t intend to, my eyes always found her.

No matter what room I walked into, I always sought her out.

Her laugher. Her smile. Her eyes. Her.

Y/N had been my best friend, besides Nicholas of course, for as long as I could remember. Granted, we only met when we had moved to California, but we clicked instantly.

Two peas in a pod. Partners in crime. Ride or die.

That was us.

But I was desperate for more.

I wanted to hold her hand. Hold her. Kiss her. Tell I loved her. Take her to bed. Be with her.

But it could never happen. She had a boyfriend and I was just her best friend. She would never see me as anything more than that.

I buried those feelings as deep as I possibly could. I dated and saw other people as often as I could to try and move on, but nothing worked. No matter who I went out with, my mind was always stuck on Y/N.

Every time I saw her with Chris, my heart broke a little bit more. I knew this was unfair, since she had no idea how I felt about her and it wasn’t her fault she was happy with someone else, but part of me resented her for being happy with someone else.

What could he give her that I couldn’t?

I knew every single detail about her. I could even tell you how many freckles decorated her face if you asked me to.

But it wasn’t enough.

She had him, and I had Bad Omens.

“Y/N and Chris are fighting again.” Matt sighed, taking his seat in the studio.

They had been fighting a lot recently. He had been going out more often with his friends, leaving Y/N at home. She hated being alone.

“Same thing again?” Jolly asked.

“Yep.” Matt sighed again.

Silence encased the studio. None of us particularly liked Chris, some for more selfish reasons than others, but none of us wanted to stop Y/N from being happy.

“I’ve got some lyrics that I’ve been working on.” I spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Can we have a look?” Jolly asked, so I handed him my highly precious notebook that I used for songwriting.

His eyes darted over the pages. if he knew what the song was about, he didn’t let on anything.

“This is good shit, Noah.” He said, smiling genuinely.

I had been working on the song for a while now, but I never had the courage to show anyone else the song yet.

It was by far my favourite song that I had ever written.

“Do you think it would be okay for the new record?” I asked, chewing the skin on my thumb anxiously.

“I think it’s perfect for the new record dude.” Jolly said, grinning widely.

“Great.” I said with a sigh of relief.

We spent most of the day recording the new song, working in silence for the most part as we seemed to be working in unison, as one.

The lyrics flew out of me so easily, it was like breathing.

Verse after verse, the melody came naturally.

It didn’t matter if anyone knew what the song was about, as long as she got to hear it.

Y/N POV

Chris and I never had a great relationship.

It wasn’t toxic or anything, we just didn’t love eachother, but were determined to make it work.

The honeymoon phase was relatively short, only lasting the first two months of our relationship.

Out fights consisted of the same common denominators every single time. His partying and my friendship with Noah.

Chris hated Noah with a burning passion. In fact, Chris was convinced that Noah was in love with me, which would be impossible because how could someone like Noah be in love with someone like me?

Noah was a genuine, kind soul, and I was often labelled a vindictive bitch.

He would have to be desperate for human connection if he fell in love with me.

“Seriously, I don’t understand why you’re friends with him, Y/N, he clearly just wants to get in your pants.” Chris sighed, exasperated at my apparent obliviousness to Noah’s alleged feelings for me.

“Because he’s my best friend, and no, he doesn’t want to get in my pants. I think I’d know if he did.” I replied, sick of this argument going round in circles.

“Y/N, please listen to me. He isn’t your friend. He just wants to use you to get off. He likes the power he has over you.” Chris argued back, raising his voice.

“Stop lying about it, I’m not going to believe you.” I yelled. “This is so fucking dumb, Chris, all we ever do is go around in circles until we either get bored of the argument and go cool off somewhere or we just end up fucking!”

“Who’s fault is it that we keep running in circles like this?” Chris snarled. “You’re the one who is still hanging around that jackass.”

“Oh my god! When will you realise that Noah is not the problem here, you are!” I yelled.

“Then how about I leave and make your life easier?” Chris shouted.

“Good! Get the fuck out of my house!” I yelled in reply, gesturing towards the door.

He simply turned around and left. Just like that.

The silence that filled the house wasn’t unpleasant like I thought it would be, but instead it was peaceful and I welcomed it with open arms.

Finally, I had enough space to think. To breathe. To exist without him screaming down my ear about Noah, and without me interrogating him about him going out with his friends into the very early hours of the morning.

But after a few hours of this new silence, the house became almost too silent. Too cold. Too big.

I needed the space to be smaller again.

With my mind in autopilot, I found myself climbing into the drivers side of my car and driving over to Noah’s house, desperate for comfort and some semblance of crowdedness.

Noah’s front door opened before you had even rung the bell.

“Hey, you okay? Matt had us worried about you.” Noah gushed, pulling me into a hug.

“Yeah just wanted to hang out for a bit. It’s too quiet at my place.” I explained with a shrug.

“Is Chris out again?”  Noah asked as we walked into his house.

“Oh, we broke up like two hours ago.” I said with a laugh, but I couldn’t tell if it was a fake laugh or not.

“Shit are you okay?” Noah asked, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“Yeah. I mean I think so.” I said with a shrug.

“Y/N, you’re crying.” Noah whispered, his voice significantly more gentle than it had been previously as he cupped my cheek and wiped a stray tear away from my face.

“No, really I’m okay.” I said, unsure as to why I was crying.

“Come here.” Noah whispered, pulling me into a tight hug.

I wasn’t sure what it was about hugging Noah made me feel so emotional, but I couldn’t control the damn that burst, letting all of my pent up frustrations at Chris gush out.

The more I cried, the clearer the real reason for my tears became. I was in love with Noah.

NOAH POV

I gently rubbed Y/N’s back as I held her close to my chest, hoping to ease her pain as much as I could.

“Come with me, I want to show you something.” I whispered, guiding her into the studio before sitting her down on the small sofa we had in there for moments like these.

She curled up in her usual spot with her knees pulled up to her chest.

I switched on the computer monitor and selected the audio file that I wanted.

Besides the purple LED lights, that were Y/N’s favourite, the monitor was the only thing that illuminated the otherwise empty room.

The soft melody of the acoustic demo that we had recorded earlier that morning filled the air as I sat next to Y/N on the sofa and pulling her into my arms. She instantly snuggled closer into my chest as if she were hiding from something and was seeking comfort.

She was my safe space and I was hers.

The lyrics began to take over the melody as I rocked Y/N back and forth in my arms.

There are scars that never ever show themselves

You get when you’re left alone too long in Hell

I was sick and tired of leaving Y/N to live her life without me by her side. I was desperate to be able to call her mine. To hold her hand as we walked to our favourite coffee shop. To kiss her cheek and tell her she looked beautiful as she got ready to go out. To be able to hold her as we drifted off to sleep in our bed.

I was desperate for HER.

I began to sing the lyrics to her, causing her to look up into my eyes as I looked down into hers.

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

“Noah.” She murmured.

“Yes, Y/N.” I whispered in reply.

“I love you.” She whispered.

I answered her by leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on her lips. Just enough to tell her exactly how I felt.

“Yours?” She asked after we pulled away.

“Mine.” I replied with a smile.

“Forever?”

“Yes, Y/N, mine forever.”

And if you're there to catch me when I fall Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

[coniferouspines]

Been thinking about a Stan twins hunger games AU. Throwing it out here because I’m not sure if I’ll ever actually write anything for it, since I’m working on other stuff, but it’s been rattling around in my brain and I must get it out.

More of a dark!Ford type of AU because I’m into that. Possessive, protective Ford my beloved. Love it when he gets to be a little bit deranged.

Anyway.

The twins are separated at birth. Born in a poor district, Ford is adopted by an influential, wealthy capitol family. At the time the plot of the AU begins, he’s in his early twenties and on his way to becoming head gamemaker. He is set to intern/test run the next game mostly by himself, while still under the eye of his mentor, the current head gamemaker. Ford is still a genius, and is well known for being close to the capitol president, Bill Cipher. He has no idea he was born in the districts and was adopted by his otherwise infertile parents.

Stan on the other hand, was raised in the districts by the twins’ bio parents. He becomes a tribute the same year that Ford runs the games. In this AU, the age for potential tributes ranges from 12 to 25. Having tributes in their early adulthood helps with population control. The capitol wants enough people in the districts to keep them running, but not too many people that they start realizing they vastly outnumber the capitol.

Having the tribute age go up to 25 means most people don’t form families and have children too early. Doing so would be risky in the case that one is selected as tribute and taken away from a spouse or a baby. As few are willing to risk such a thing, it means most people in the districts don’t try having kids until they pass the age of 25, when they are no longer eligible as a tribute.

Anyway, Stan gets dragged into the games. Either by getting selected as tribute himself, or by volunteering to take the place of his little brother Sherman as tribute. Either way he gets shipped off to the capitol. And of course, as future head gamemaker, Ford is there during the initial tribute assessments once they all arrive, and he is shocked to see a tribute that shares his face.

Cue the intrigue.

Ford wonders if perhaps it’s simply a case of a doppelgänger, since everyone is said to have another person out there that resembles them. But… The tribute looks far too identical to Ford to be a simple doppelgänger. So Ford starts to wonder if perhaps—outlandishly—he somehow has a twin. He isn’t sure how that would be possible, but he goes about checking Stan’s medical records after the tributes all go through their medical checks. Ford gets his hands on some of Stan’s DNA and secretly runs a few tests.

The results come back showing that Ford does indeed have a twin. But as shocking as the information is, and as much as Ford would like to know more about his newfound brother, the games must go on. Stan must compete.

But Ford is going to make sure Stan wins. No matter what it takes to make it happen. Though he knows he’ll have to be subtle about it. Can’t show too much favouritism—although he can get away with a little, since he’s favoured by president Cipher. Others tend not to mess with him because of that. Though the resemblance between Stan and Ford is probably obvious to the other gamemakers.

Being the head gamemaker for this year’s games, Ford throws everything into making sure Stan wins. And once he does, Ford throws everything into making sure he can have Stan for himself. A good thing he’s close to president Cipher, as Ford simply asks for Stan and Bill gives him to him. Likely Bill in this AU has been manipulating Ford for a while, wanting him to be his second in command. So he allows Ford to keep Stan despite Stan’s victor status, as giving Ford what he wants will make him more likely to be obedient to Bill.

Meanwhile Stan is confused as to why he’s not being allowed to go back home, and angry that he’s being kept from his family. When he meets Ford however, he’s shocked. Post-game is his first time seeing Ford, and Stan has no idea why this guy looks so much like him. But he certainly isn’t a fan of Ford. Both for being a gamemaker and for being “capitol scum”.

Ford is determined to figure out the mystery behind his previously unknown twin, and is determined to make sure Stan stays with him forever. He will not let Stan go back to poverty in the districts, nor have anything to do with the games anymore. Stan is his to keep safe. He wants to get to know his brother and not lose him again.

And perhaps when the truth comes out, when the twins figure out what happened and how they were separated, Ford goes and collects the rest of his biological family from the districts. Or perhaps he doesn’t. Maybe he has a good relationship with his adopted parents and doesn’t care about the rest of his biological family. They gave him a good life. Now he can give Stan a good life.

[pearlofthewoods]

Spuffy band-fic ramblings (long-post)

I think about this scene so frequently because…"Well, I sing.” 

Yes, of course he does. That man was a poet, he could write such gorgeous lyrics, and no one can tell me Spike wasn’t an active part of the rock scene in the 70s.

Honestly, a whole Spuffy band fic has been marinating in my brain for like a good 6 months now, (like seriously, it even has its own playlist, that’s when u know it’s getting real)… but since I’m only a baby writer I wanna get some writing practise in before I embark on the project, so that I can do it justice. 

However as I literally cannot keep these thoughts to myself, allow me to invite you into my brain for a while. 

(Be warned I'm basically spoiling half the plot of a future fic under the cut so scroll away if u only wanna read it when, or if, it gets written.)

So in my fic idea, there’s a huge underground vampire music scene (particularly in LA), since because vampires are immortal, they’ve lived through so many different eras of music that they have a really deep understanding of music history. They’ve seen so many famous bands live etc (which obviously is one of the few human experiences open to vampires, since so many gigs take place at night and are tied to nightlife culture). 

I’d also say that since vampires have no need to work, if they can get their hands on instruments they'd have plenty of time to practise/dedicate themselves to the craft. 

One head-canon that I have comes from the idea that Billy Idol “stole Spike’s look” from him. What if he stole something else too?

Bear with me here. 

Vampires don’t age, so they could never risk becoming famous in the human world, since people would very quickly notice that they weren’t human. Vampires need to keep a relatively low profile. They also can’t really make money easily from music by playing for other vamps, cause it’s quite unlikely the vampire scene has much money flowing around. Why would it? Everyone can just steal/mug to get what they need.

So in the vampire music world, they’d mostly just be playing for each other to stave off the boredom of eternal life, but with no worries about finances or putting food on the table. 

And dear God that music would be experimental, with none of the usual restraints of human life.

Like I think their music would be very interesting/ outside the mainstream. Perhaps they’d play stuff from entirely different decades which had completely gone out of style, but not amongst vampires who never aged/got uncool (unlike the humans who played it)….

Vampires would also have so many different first-hand musical influences that they’d create the most weird and wonderful sounds. Think Spike’s Victorian musical upbringing mixed with jazz mixed with rock, mixed with… well, you get the picture.

And tbh I think some people would try and capitalise on that, on that raw vitality. Perhaps there’s a demon who records demos secretly in the crowd or steals entire songs and sends them to someone in the know in the music industry. And since vampires don’t exactly have passports, social security numbers or any real documented presence at all, there’s nothing they can do about it. Like what if, in this fictional world, Billy Idol didn’t just steal Spike’s look, but his music too? Frankly, it'd explain the resentment.

Anyway, in my head Spike hasn’t played music for a while, he took a break to look after Drusilla and then got wrapped up in the scoobies and their shenanigans. 

But after Buffy dies? He needs somewhere to put all those emotions. He needs to write goddamn it, he hasn’t felt heartbreak like this for a long, long time. He’s not used to death, he doesn’t know how to deal with it. No vampire does.

So when he’s drinking away the pain in Willy’s one night, some demons he used to know are down from LA and offer him an open spot to sing with them at a new demon club. Spike’s about to turn it down, but they tell him things have changed. Like Wolfram and Hart, demons are all in business now, and this new club will pay.

Spike doesn’t need money… but Dawn does. Tara and Willow won’t tell him anything, (they don’t want to be put in the moral position of whether to accept mugging-proceeds from Spike), but he knows that finances are tight. And this is something he can do for Dawn, and in a way… for Buffy.

So Spike joins a band!

I think he’s probably pretty famous from his past in the 70s vamp rock scene, but this time he wants to change up the music genre. He wants a fresh start. It’s the nineties goddamn it, and he’s certainly not the same vampire he was twenty years ago. He’ll play, but he’ll play on his terms. 

I imagine his newer music to basically be Jeff Buckley’s (my fave 90s musician), which I know might seem a bit melancholy for Spike, but with his current grief, it feels quite appropriate.

Tbh since I basically know nothing about music and can’t even imagine lyrics for toffee, I'd probably even just give him Jeff’s discography and call it a day. It’s fanfic I can do what I like. Grace? Spike wrote it. Job done. 

For example, the lyrics to “Opened Once”?

"In the half-light where we both stand

In the half-light you saw me as I am

I am a railroad track abandoned

With the sunset forgetting I ever happened

That I ever happened"

Half-light = the twilight, the safest time of day for vampires (to quote Edward Cullen, sorry lol). also a metaphor for the place between the vamp world and the human world. A place where Buffy and Spike "both stand", as she’s the slayer and he’s a vampire that can’t hurt people.

‘You saw me as I am’ - After Buffy's resurrection, Spike’s the only person who truly understands what she’s been through, and the experience of crawling out of your own grave. They meet each other where they are.

‘Railroad track’ - ‘railroad spike’. Railroad is a pretty unusual and archaic way of phrasing that word. At least where I’m from. ‘Railroad spike’ is too good of a coincidence. 

‘Sunset forgetting I ever happened’ - Spike doesn’t get to live in the daylight. the sun (and the sunset) are both out of reach for him without the danger of dusting. He doesn’t fully feel like a true vampire anymore, but the human world won’t accept him either. In fact, his human life was so long ago that even the sun itself has forgotten William Pratt.

I also think Spike/ Jeff Buckley is a fitting parallel  since, if I stick to major-canon events, Jeff’s unfortunate passing very early in his career would also fit roughly timewise with Spike’s death at the end of season 7. 

The last unfinished album that Jeff struggled so hard to write? The one Spike wrote when he was getting over his ensoulment and entirely reevaluating who he is, and what that means for his music.

Unfinished final album? Yes. Unpublished? No. 

Because when he accepted wearing that amulet, Spike had a pretty good idea he was going to die. So he did something a vampire never plans to do. He wrote a will. 

If he’s dead, there’s no more worries about fame exposing his immortality right? So his music is published posthumously in the human world (with some bullshit about his talent going undiscovered by the industry during life).

And combined, the proceeds pay for Dawn’s college bills, and lift all of Buffy’s financial worries from her shoulders. 

In the end, that’s Spike’s last gift to Buffy, his music, his poetry…and it finally allows her to rest. 

[angel-dustspo]

Hi there! I recently came across your blog and was truly inspired with your dedication to making the best version of yourself so I decided to make my own daily log too!

I've only done it for 2 days so far but I was wondering...what do you do instead of going on your phone😭? Rn it's holidays for me so my screen time has been really bad and I'm looking for ways to improve it. 🙏

Hiii, thank you so so so much for your kind words, they mean so much to me!!! I'm so glad I was able to inspire you and make you wish to become better everyday, that's the whole point of my blog and I'm so glad I get to help people through it!!

I always say in my posts that my screen time isn't high, but by screen time I only mean how much time I spend on social media. Scrolling is out of the question and I don't do that at all anymore, so it's just chatting what I log on here. But that's not all, because my screen time is high every day too. I use my phone for so many more reasons, and I also end up spending most of my free time on it, it's just that I don't use it for scrolling or wasting my time (mostly, not always). I post on here, I do my school work or research, I watch a movie or a youtube video and all sorts of things like that, and the screen time could add up to 5-7 hours on a school day and like 10 on holidays. Nobody has it all figured out, so please don't pressure yourself into completely not using your phone because it's not going to end well.

To be honest, I don't even know what I do besides using my phone hahah. My main hobby is my blog and that takes a lot of my time usually, but I also do my Duolingo and watch inspiring videos and anything like that, so I'm probably always using it (for doing something productive or helpful).

When I don't use my phone, I mostly do school work bcs I'm in my final year and I have to study a lot for my exams. My favourite hobby is reading, and when I don't have homework to do I can read up to 200 pages a day (like 3-4 hours), but I also love listening to music, painting, playing video games (which I actually do everyday haha), baking and cooking. I also spend a lot of my time doing sport and walking and just that alone can take me multiple hours of a day.

Other ideas are journaling or scrapbooking, cleaning your room, redecorating, writing posts on here, learning an instrument/a language, researching, learning how to crochet, going shopping or thrifting, picking up a type of exercise classes or a sport, hanging out with friends, and again learning how to cook for yourself is such a game changer and everybody should practice that.

I hope you got some new ideas about spending your time now and that I was able to help you! Good luck on your self improvement journey, I know you got this and I'm so extremely proud of you!!!! <333