#i wrote when i was 13. and i guess it wasn’t that bad

[indighostoast]

why is it the older i get the more i start to hate my own accomplishments. actually it’s always been this way so yeah.

but in a few months i’ll be a year older. and it makes me feel like i’m way too stupid compared to everyone my age.

yes i know i can’t compare myself. yes. i’ve heard that a million times.

i still feel like nothing thinking i have to be everything. and i know i could do better. but i’m just hating everything i’m doing.

but also there’s just. smaller things. my Lutz and Flip are finally coming together. (latter i can now land easily at a given time) I opened IBIS paint and drew something for the first time. and. people. are. complimenting me?

what?

ghost, are you sure they don’t pity you?

but someone i admired said they liked my writing.

but someone i’m jealous of is actually jealous of me.

but they keep saying i’m great. they keep saying i’m good.

still not perfect. but that’s fine. it’s still stupid either way even if it somehow were.

i wonder if it’s this bad for me, if it’s even worse for other people. people who still feel as though they’ve accomplished nothing.

i’m still young. technically. but all i can ever do is get a little bit older even though i’ve done that. “you’re so mature for your age!”

well. yeah. i guess i was. am i still?

is there a certain age where it all stops being “for your age?”

ghost, you’re so young. ghost, you shouldn’t be worrying about this. ghost, you still have a lot of time to think about it.

…

no. i really. really don’t.

i might as well not have existed. I might as well died in a way that feels as though I’m still living on with a shadow of myself.

but that’s fine. i’m used to that. i’ll survive.

i just wonder if it’s ever going to get better. ❤️‍🩹 for me. because it never felt as though it did.

but maybe i’m being ungrateful again

and i suppose i’ve been through quite a lot.

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 24

All righty, folks! Before we get to Steve, we have the band on tour and Eddie is really, really gonna go through it this chapter.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22 Pt 23

****

Once they were on the road and the euphoria of getting the job offer of a lifetime wore off, a sense of unease settled in Eddie’s gut. He knew he should feel excited. He was doing the one thing he always dreamed about doing ever since his mom gave him his first guitar. A sweet little acoustic that he had written “This Machine Slays Dragons”. He still had it, but right now it was safe with Wayne.

But he didn’t. He just felt empty. Not good or bad. Just...empty. Like a bottle leftover from some party. Once part of a good time, now just an empty shell.

Eddie looked over at his friends. Jeff and Brian were talking, while Gareth was asleep. He pulled out his sweetheart. The way he always did when he got down.

He closed his eyes and began to play. The chords where slow and mellow. He wasn’t sure how long he played like that, just pouring his soul out into his music, but when he opened his eyes he saw that all three of his friends were staring at him open-mouthed.

“Holy shit, dude,” Brian said after closing his mouth with audible click. “Where did that come from?”

Gareth waved a piece of paper in his hand. “I wrote down as much as I could, because seriously, that was fucking incredible.”

Eddie ducked his head and blushed. “I guess I just needed to work out some shit.”

Jeff and Brian shared a glance and then Brian moved over and sat next to him.

“I think I know what you mean,” he said. “And I think you should write the lyrics too.”

Eddie looked up at him and then at Jeff and Gareth. They nodded.

“I just don’t know,” he said. “It all feels too personal to write down.”

Jeff scoffed. “And that’s exactly why you should. Because it’s personal. There’s a damn good reason that you’ve written ninety percent of our songs, man.”

Gareth nodded. “Because you’re fucking brilliant at it. Write the song. I think everyone needs to hear it.”

Eddie nodded. He got right to work on the lyrics. Taking what Gareth had transcribed and reworking the song with the lyrics. He was nearly done by the time they stopped.

Brian patted his shoulder. “Hey, man. Don’t worry, we’ve got this. You continue working on your song. I’ll send someone to get you when it’s time for the sound check, okay?”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “You guys sure you don’t need an extra hand?”

Gareth laughed. “Fuck we need several, but don’t worry about yours. They’re doing the important part.”

Jeff nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got this.”

*

Eddie wasn’t sure how long he was lost in his head working on the song, but he had just put down his pen when there came a knock on the door.

He got up to answer it and saw a small Hispanic woman standing out there. “Yeah?”

“It’s sound check time,” she said. “And the drummer said something about a set of headphones or something?”

Eddie looked around and spotted the sound-canceling headphones by the table. He picked them up. “I’ve got them. I’ll make sure he gets them.”

He closed the door but it hadn’t closed all the way because he heard her say, “God, what kind of loser wears noise canceling headphones to a metal concert.”

Eddie’s blood turned to ice. He picked up his guitar and carried it out of the bus.

Thankfully she wasn’t around otherwise he would have blown up at her.

He made his way through the labyrinth that was the backstage to get to where he needed to be for the sound check.

Gareth came running up to him. “Oh thank god! I thought I lost them already.”

Eddie scoffed. “Nope, just left them on the bus like a dork.”

Gareth stuck his tongue out at him.

Eddie got to work setting up for his kit. He was almost done when a sound guy came up to him.

“We’re having trouble syncing our sound to your drummer’s headset,” he told him. “Does he need them for this?”

“What’s the problem?” Eddie asked. “They didn’t have trouble in Indy.”

The guy sighed. “Our system is newer and it’s causing feedback.”

Eddie pulled out fifty bucks from his wallet. “Go buy a pair that works. And if that doesn’t cover it, I’ll pay you back.”

The guy just rolled his eyes and did as he was told.

They played that night to a sell out crowd. They were only opening for Metallica, but damn the crowd got them going. Afterwards he called Steve and chatted about their day. His day was more exciting to be sure, but he loved hearing about the client that passed out at the sight of the needle. Apparently they hadn’t realized that tattooing in involved the pesky things and had an absolute fear of them.

Then someone was tapping him on the shoulder telling him had to go. He said goodbye to Steve and was rushed out the door.

Even though they only had three shows in those two weeks, they were quickly learning that playing wasn’t the only thing a band had to do on the road.

There were parties, and talk and radio shows, and photo shoots, and signings.

Sometimes he would get to speak to Steve, but most of the time it was leaving voicemail after voicemail.

All around him he kept hearing:

“Three weeks isn’t a relationship! It’s a fling!”

“He’s not a fan of metal? What is he a fan of?”

James came up behind Eddie and clapped him on the back. “Everything okay back home?”

Eddie stared at his phone. He had just left his third message that day with Steve.

“Yeah,” he said, voice shaking a bit. “It’s just we were so new to the relationship part, we were friends before that, that I worry being on tour has hurt us in someway.

James nodded. “It’s hard being on the road, away from family. It’s why most of us take them with us when we can.”

Eddie chewed on his lip. “It’s hard because he has his own tattoo shop and recently took on two apprentices so he’s like super busy.”

James pursed his lips. “That can certainly make it hard. What time is he off?”

“Eight.”

“Tell you what,” he said. “Instead of doing on encore tonight, why don’t you boys bow out and spend time talking to your families. It’ll be good for morale all around, I think.”

Eddie sighed gratefully. “Yeah. I’ll bring it up to them and see what they say.”

James squeezed his shoulder and went on his way.

“If the drummer doesn’t like noise why did he chose drums as an instrument?”

“A drummer that startles at loud noises? Get a new drummer!”

Lars paused them on their way to the sound check in Houston. “Hey, I know you guys are only doing a couple more shows, but after that fiasco with the Chicago guys me and the boys decided to spring for everyone to get a set of these.”

He handed the case to Eddie.

He opened it up to reveal little black earbuds. “What are these?”

“It’s what all touring artists wear,” Lars explained. “They’re fitted to cover the full inside of the earlobe to drown out the sounds around you so you can hear your own music.”

“Oh wow, that’s neat.” Eddie put one in and was amazed at the quality. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

Lars grinned. “It’s mainly for your drummer. Everyone deserves accommodations for any kind of disability and if the loud noises bother him, it makes it hard for everyone else to concentrate because you guys are worried about him.”

Eddie smiled. “Thanks!”

“It’s a pity that tattoo will never be finished. I could give you the name of my artist if you want!”

“It’s a shame that your tattoo artist wasn’t good enough to finish the tattoo before you left, maybe you could get covered with something else. Something better than that.”

The band was admiring Eddie’s back tattoo.

“I’m really liking the details, man,” Kirk said.

Robert nodded. “Hell yeah. Who’s your artist? He does some really sick work.”

Eddie blushed, grateful his back was too them. “He’s my boyfriend, Stevie.”

“Damn, you’ll never have to pay for another tattoo ever again,” Lars said. “Lucky.”

Jeff laughed. “Nah, knowing Steve, he’d probably charge Eddie an extra mayhem tax.”

Kirk and Lars shared a look and then nodded unison.

“Fair,” the said together.

Eddie yelped, “Hey!”

He turned to Gareth and Brian, but they agreed with Jeff, too.

“And they said I’m the menace.”

“Ooh, honey, let me take you somewhere private. Your boyfriend will never know.”

“It’s a shame he’s gay, all the girls are just gaga for that doe-eyed look of his.”

Eddie turned down another request to share his hotel room. Never mind that he was sharing with all the other members of Corroded Coffin and wouldn’t have had any kind of privacy. Never mind he had a boyfriend back home. Never mind he was gay.

It didn’t seem to matter with these people. Hot rock star equals slut apparently.

“How the hell do you do it?” he asked James. “You have been married to the same woman for twenty five years and you still get women throwing themselves at you.”

“It’s hard,” James said with a shrug. “But she’s more important then any roll in the hay ever will be.”

Eddie nodded, pursing his lips. Steve was more important then any roll in the hay. He could hold on to that.

“I know he’s your friend, but maybe it’s time to get a touring drummer. He can still record with you or whatever. But he’s really holding the band back right now.”

Gareth isn’t just some guy. He was family. He wasn’t even Corroded Coffin’s first drummer that dubious honor went Kyle Creevy, a snot nosed, freckled kid whose arms were barely thicker than the drumsticks he played with. But he moved right before Eddie’s ninth grade year and Gareth just slid into their lives.

They may have been playing at the Nightmare Holes for seven years but the band been together for much longer than that. They had been playing for over a decade. And unless they had someone that could learn their music in mere months were Gareth had taken years...they could fuck off.

God, the members of Metallica had been playing together for forty years and the only change they’d made was when a member fucking died.

“That back tattoo of yours is really not a good look. It’s the biggest part and no one will ever see it.”

Eddie couldn’t make them understand the tattoo wasn’t meant to be seen, it was meant to be felt. To put to feeling growing up as a small town pariah and making it out. Not ending up in jail like his dad or dead like his mom. To be the Freak and turn it into something special. To finally find his wings.

Steve understood. God, he missed Steve so much and he felt like he was pulling away. It was like a rubber band being stretched. It might snap or might not, but whatever happened it would never be the same.

The members of the band’s team shooed these people away when it got to be too much for him.

“Fame and fortune wait for no man. It’s time to lose the dead weight.”

He came close to punching that guy. Some haughty agent they met in Houston.

It was thrilling to watch security throw him out.

“The long hair went out in the eighties, darling. I really think a half shaved look would be better for you.”

Eddie laughed at that last one straight in their face. Kirk fucking Hemmet still had long curly hair, they could fuck the fuck right off.

But then the tour was over. They were going home.

****

Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee @slowandsteddie @awkwardgravity1 @steaddie-on

[iiktty]

The Quiet Between Us

male reader x nct jeno

oh and yeah i fucking suck at the layouts for fics, CUZ IDK HOW TO MAKE IT LOOK GOOD?!?! But i'll find some insp for the next fic, dw baddies n daddies😌

⚠ NOT PROOFREAD ⚠

rating: 13+ (not explicit)

genre: fluff kinda?

a/n: so lowkey kinda cringe cuz i wrote this right after daydreaming about jeno, so.. yeah. this isnt 18+, just like.. fluff basically, idk. Jeno doesnt really act like Jeno, and idk if M/N would be how you act? Hopefully its not to bad, also idk the wc. yeah i worked on this all week.

The night was calm, the only sound coming from the soft crash of waves against the rocky shore. M/N had always found solace in the ocean—its rhythm was soothing, almost therapeutic. The cool breeze tousled his hair as he walked along the beach, the moon casting a gentle glow over the world. He wasn’t really sure how he ended up here, or why tonight felt different from every other time he'd come to this spot. But one thing was certain: Jeno was walking beside him.

It had started casually—a chance meeting through mutual friends, a shared interest in music and a few late-night conversations. But as time went on, M/N couldn’t ignore the subtle pull he felt whenever he was around Jeno. He’d always admired the way Jeno was so effortlessly kind, his presence calming but with an underlying energy that always made M/N feel seen in a way no one else ever had.

Tonight, however, was different. They’d both been given time off from their busy schedules, and somehow, they'd ended up on the beach, talking about everything and nothing at all.

"How’s the new album coming along?" M/N asked, glancing at Jeno, who had his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his hoodie.

Jeno glanced at him, a soft smile on his face. "It’s... coming together," he said, voice laced with a mixture of pride and exhaustion. "But you know how it is. There are days when everything clicks, and other days when it feels like we’re getting nowhere."

M/N nodded. He understood that all too well. Music was both a passion and a burden, sometimes. The pressure to create something meaningful, something that would resonate with others, could weigh heavily on anyone.

"You’ve been working hard," M/N said gently, stopping for a moment to gaze out at the waves. "I can tell. You’re always putting everything into it."

Jeno stopped too, his footsteps falling silent on the sand as he turned toward M/N. There was something in his gaze, something deeper than the playful exterior he often wore.

"Yeah, well," Jeno started, his voice quieter now. "I can’t really do anything halfway. You know that about me."

M/N turned to face him fully, an amused smirk on his lips. "I think I’ve noticed," he teased, but then his expression softened. "You’re always giving your best, even when it’s hard."

Jeno’s smile widened, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. A quiet appreciation that made M/N’s heart skip a beat. "Thanks, M/N. I guess… sometimes it’s easy to forget why I started doing this in the first place. But being around people who get it—people like you—it reminds me of why I love it."

M/N’s chest tightened slightly at the words, and he could feel the atmosphere shift between them. The connection that had been there from the start, but was always just under the surface, was now impossible to ignore. He took a step closer, almost instinctively, drawn to the warmth that seemed to radiate from Jeno.

"You’ve got this energy," M/N said, his voice softer now, almost as if speaking to himself. "It’s like everything you do, you put all of yourself into it."

Jeno didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer too, the space between them narrowing until they were standing just inches apart. The moonlight glinted in his eyes, making them appear almost otherworldly, and M/N suddenly felt like the world had gone still. It wasn’t the first time they’d been this close, but something felt different this time. There was an electric charge in the air, one that neither of them seemed willing to break just yet.

"You know," Jeno said, his voice low but steady, "I’ve been meaning to tell you something."

M/N’s heart skipped again, but he managed to meet Jeno’s gaze without faltering. "What’s that?"

Jeno reached up, his hand brushing lightly against M/N’s cheek, sending a jolt of warmth through him. It was gentle at first, as if he was testing the waters, but it was enough to make M/N’s breath hitch.

"I’ve been thinking about you a lot," Jeno admitted, his thumb tracing the line of M/N’s jaw, his touch delicate and deliberate. "And I’m not sure how to say this, but… I think I’ve felt this way for a while now."

M/N’s breath caught in his throat. His mind raced, but his heart told him everything he needed to know. It was hard to find words, especially with Jeno’s touch sending a current of heat through him. The way Jeno was looking at him, like he was the only person on the planet, made his pulse quicken.

Before M/N could respond, Jeno closed the gap, his lips brushing against M/N’s in a kiss that started soft and tentative, but quickly deepened. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty—just the quiet understanding that whatever was happening between them had been a long time coming.

M/N responded immediately, his hands finding Jeno’s shoulders as he pulled him closer, as though needing to be as close as humanly possible. The kiss was warm, filled with an unspoken promise, and M/N could feel the emotions he’d been holding back for so long spilling over.

When they pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads leaning together as they caught their breath.

"I’ve been waiting for you to do that," M/N said, his voice a little breathless but full of quiet amusement. "You know, I thought I’d have to make the first move eventually."

Jeno laughed softly, the sound light and easy in the quiet night. "I don’t know what took me so long," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Guess I was just waiting for the right moment."

They stood there for a while, simply holding each other, watching the waves roll in and out. The world felt simpler here, in these moments between them. No pressure, no expectations—just the two of them, learning what it meant to be together in a way they hadn’t been before.

"Thanks for coming out here with me tonight," Jeno said softly after a long silence, his hand gently squeezing M/N’s. "I didn’t realize how much I needed this."

M/N smiled, his thumb lightly brushing the back of Jeno’s hand. "Yeah," he replied, his voice full of warmth. "Me too."

And as they stood there, their hearts beating in sync, M/N realized that sometimes, the quietest moments were the most meaningful ones—especially when shared with someone who made the world feel a little brighter.

[theotherbuckley]

Hiii purple 💕💕💕

🍉🤍💝💌

Hey Saturn 💜

🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

I write a lot of emotionally heavy stuff so I mean for me I guess it’s a great way to feel I sad and all that in a way that isn’t idk harmful. Like I can write about depressing topics which allows me to let out all those feelings idk this doesn’t even make sense but it’s nice to feel sad sometimes and I can do that with writing in a non-harmful manner. Yk that probably sounds super psychotic.

🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

Uh I don’t think any of my fics people didn’t get. I think people may not like certain things but they still “got” it.

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

Uhhh I think the first fic I wrote for this fandom Because You’re Exhausting purely because I haven’t been a part of a fandom this massive or at least not one that reads as much fanfic is we do lol so it got way bigger response than I anticipated. (Which has unfortunately cursed me to feel like I’ve done a bad job if it doesn’t reach that level of response cough running from myself cough)

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

I’m going to use this as my Seven Sentence Sunday too - this is from the healing fic again… once again there is not a lot of healing going on.. I swear there will be.. eventually

Eventually he picks himself off the floor and tells himself he’ll clean the glass up later. Really, he knows, he’ll never get around to it.

His whole body is shaking and he’s not sure when that started but he just won’t stop shaking. He turns to the sink and splashes his face with cold water and holds his shaking hands under the water, washing away the blood that wasn’t ever there.

He leans against the counter, head in his hands, and he wonders how he managed to let it get this bad.

Or maybe he knows how, he just didn’t think it would hit so suddenly. Like it’s been gradually building for a long time but now he actually stops for a moment and it feels like he’s being shot, the force of how bad things have got hitting him square in the chest.

He just wishes it was a real bullet.

Tags for Seven Sentence Sunday under the cut <3

@disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @jeeyuns @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @spagheddiediaz @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @giddyupbuck @eowon @elvensorceress @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @king-buckley @rainbow-nerdss @cal-daisies-and-briars @crowleywasagryffindor @malewifediaz @evanbegins @jamespearce9-1-1 @wikiangela @bucksbirthmark  @callmenewbie @underwater-ninja-13 @daffi-990 @fionaswhvre @aspecbuddie

[ashes-writing-corner]

A bit of a shorter update tonight guys! But I hope you like it anyway ^^

TW: mentions abuse/childhood trauma, non descriptive.

Taglist: @stargatenovus

Ghosts That We Knew

13- A Dead Man's Letter

You were still on the hunt for a therapist weeks after the confrontation with Ghost. Getting one wasn’t easy, and to be honest you weren’t in any rush to find one. It wasn’t that you had lied to him, at least not intentionally. You had already mentioned you didn’t like therapists, you didn’t trust them. You didn’t want to be just another doctor’s paycheck. It wasn’t like they cared about you anyway. However, to set Ghost’s mind at ease, you told Ellie’s therapist you were searching for one. Thankfully for you, they were more than willing to help you find an ideal one. 

For the time being, you were perfectly fine with running your business, which was doing pretty well. Life went on as normal. You kept Simon’s file in a locked safe in your room, so no one could get to it and you still had it close at hand in case you needed it. But on more than one occasion you found an envelope either on your bed, your nightstand, or on the floor in your room. You knew what it was. Simon’s letter. Ghost was asking you to read it, without speaking of course. Needing to regain his strength, he had gone quiet in the weeks following. 

You sat in bed, contemplating opening it, when your phone rang. An unknown number…

You didn’t pick it up, as you didn’t pick up unknown numbers. If it was important they’d leave a message. You flipped the silent phone over, thinking it wouldn’t be so distracting as you picked up the envelope. But after a minute, you just decided to put it in the nightstand and just focus on what it was he had written. Taking a slightly shaking breath, you decided to open the letter and give it a read, being delicate so as not to rip anything. The paper was already yellowing a little, meaning he wrote this a good long time ago. You blinked as you took in Simon Riley’s handwriting, which admittedly wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t illegible. 

To the poor soul reading this, 

Since you’re reading this, two things have happened. 1. I’m dead. And 2. You’re the poor sap who got stuck with this heart. Just to let you know, you’re only one of a few letters I’ll be writing, as I’m hoping all my bits get used. Hell knows I’m not using them anymore. 

A heart’s a heavy burden, and believe me I know that better than most. You’ve probably read all my stuff, as I signed the release forms earlier today. Without it, it’d be illegal for you to even see my records. But as the knew…keeper, I guess, for arguably my most important organ, I figured that was important info in there for you to know. But it doesn’t tell you everything. Only what you need to know. Maybe some notes from therapy thrown in for flavor, mental evaluations and all that. But they don’t tell you a damn thing about me. Who I was, what I wanted from life, all of that. Things about me that not even my closest friends know, few as they are.  The dreams I had, the hopes I mislaid. They’re not mine anymore. But…I want you to know this: They aren’t yours either. 

The truth is, I wanted to spend my life making the world a better place, so no one has to know what it means to suffer the way I did. This isn’t meant for you to pity me, but to understand why I made the decision to become a soldier and a donor. I lived a hard life, came from a bad home with a half mad father and, for a time, a drug abusing brother. I rose above that though, challenging as it was. I got my brother the help he needed, kicked our father out, and did my best to make sure everyone was happy before I made that choice. You, whoever you are, are the last person I’m saving, and the one who’s face at the very least I won’t know. And yet you’re being trusted with the most vital part of me…crazy isn’t it? And I don’t trust easy admittedly. 

All I got is one last wish, one last demand. I want you to live. I want you to live your life, and live it in the best way you can. Live it harmlessly, if you can. Help others when you can, but don’t enslave yourself. Live selfishly, at least a little, something I never got to do. Live…fully. I guess is what I’m trying to say. 

And drop that thought most likely going through your head: “This heart isn’t mine”. Trust me, it’s yours. It was meant to be yours the second I signed that paper to become a donor. This heart was always mine to lose, and it was always yours to gain. No matter what your silly brain is telling you, I’m telling you this right bloody now: I did not die because of you. You. Did. Not. Do. This. I chose, as I always have. And now you have a choice. Choose better than me. Choose to live your life. Be a bit selfish, because I wasn’t always able to be. But live. Just…live. And know, even though we’ll never meet, know that I’m so proud of you for fighting this battle, whatever it is that landed you this. I’m happy that I got to help you. And now you know the only thing I ask in return. 

Live your life. And take care of my heart. It was always meant to be yours, in some way or another…

Stay frosty. 

Simon “Ghost” Riley, out. 

You didn’t know what to think when you read it. It seemed a bit devoid of emotion, but it was rather matter of fact. The last part got to you. It wasn’t exactly a confession as he stated, but a reiteration of the truth. Simon lived on. Was living on. And he was doing it through you. There was something so humbling about that, now that you were thinking about it with a clearer head. It didn’t entirely change how you felt, but it put it in a different light. The familiar feeling you had at the beginning of your friendship now made more sense. Simon was a part of you now. 

Taking your phone out, you decided to see who had called, and lo and behold they left a message. You listened to the voicemail, heart pounding. An unfamiliar male voice sounded. 

“Hey, Y/N, I think that’s what Soap called you? Anyway, he told me about your situation. My name’s John Price and I’m also interested in meeting you. I hope you don’t mind, there’s actually two of us coming with him, the other being Kyle Garrick. We look forward to meeting you and hopefully clearing some stuff up” there was a pause before the man continued, “We were there that night, Y/N. The night of your transplant. As I said, I can’t wait to meet you, and I hope you and your kiddo are doing okay. Don’t hesitate to give me, Soap, or Gaz a ring, alright?” he proceeded to give you the number of their last member, Kyle Garrick, before ending the message. 

You almost dropped the phone. 

They were there. 

They. were. there…

If you guys enjoyed this please consider liking, reblogging, and commenting! Yall seriously give me life and keep me motivated! Thank you so much ^^

[fandomsareforlife]

Superstitions Don’t Apply When You’re An Ex-Ghost

Summary: When you're a(n ex) ghost, do you really need to worry about having bad luck?

A/N: So if you follow my ao3, you'll know I published this back in August. I have no excuse for how late this is (and if I did publish and just didn't tag, let me know please!) Anyway, this was written for round 13 of Who Wrote That, and the prompt was "Superstitions." This was a fun fic to write, hope you enjoy!

Also, takes place between season 7 and 8

Read On AO3

Morro didn’t like the ninja. They were loud, obnoxious and were kind of (entirely) idiots most of the time (all the time). If it weren’t for the fact that Echo wanted to stay with them and Morro didn’t really want to be alone in a strange new world, he would have ditched them weeks ago.

As is, he somehow got roped into going on the weekly grocery shopping trip with the blue and black one and Echo. Normally, he would have made up an excuse or simply refused to go, but Echo was very determined that Morro had to go see something at the store cause Echo couldn’t hope to describe it with words only.

It was kind of cute, seeing the guy so excited about small stuff, but Morro supposed if he was locked up in a lighthouse for decades at a time and never had the chance to meet anyone but his creator until a few months ago, he also would think everything was super cool.

(If you asked Morro if he ever thought he would be here a year ago, he would have said that you were crazy. It would have been ridiculous to think that he would have escaped the Preeminent after being brought on the day of the departed for some nut-job’s stupid idea, only to end up in a light house in the middle of the ocean, with Echo Zane as his only company.

It only got more absurd when they were rescued by the blue ninja, who apparently met Echo in an erased timeline and only came to the lighthouse cause he felt guilty about leaving him there. Just…it sounded insane but that was his life. Morro guessed being a ghost wasn’t enough.)

Morro was ignoring the ninja’s conversation, immersed in the patches of green in the concrete, when a hand grabbed his shoulder and jerked him back, causing him to almost fall over. Growling, Morro turned to face the owner of the hand, who was the blue ninja. What his name again, Jason? Jaiden? Something with a J, he knew that.

“What the heck?! Why did you do that?” Morro hissed, pulling away from the bruising grip, rubbing at his shoulder while glaring at the ninja, who had the decency to look sheepish.

The ninja pointed to something in front of them, causing Morro to turn away and blink incredulously.

“…that is a ladder. What is such a big deal about a ladder?” There wasn’t even anything on it that could fall onto his head!

“It’s bad luck!” the blue ninja cried. “You don’t want to have bad luck for 7 years, do you?!” He seemed so distraught by this that Morro entertained the idea of indulging him for a moment. However, he had some dignity left. Besides, he already had bad luck, so it couldn’t get that much worse.

The black ninja sighed and came between the two. “It’s just a superstition, Jay. Not everyone believes stuff like that.”

The blue ninja, Jay, sputtered. “Well, excuse you, Cole, but I don’t want to have Morro near us if he has bad luck! We already have bad luck, we have to avoid getting more of it!”

Echo’s metal fingers tangled with Morro’s as he stood next to him. “Maybe me and Morro can walk under the ladder and you and Cole walk around it? Then we can see if it will impact our luck?”

Cole nodded, his shoulders slumping in relief, most likely from not having to waste time on this argument even more. “That’s a good idea, Echo. Come on, Jay.” Jay kept squawking like his name sake bird as Cole dragged him around the ladder.

Echo turned to look up Morro with a wide smile. “Shall we do our experiment then?” he giggled. Morro sighed but nodded, walking under the ladder confidently.

“I don’t get why he was so scared, nothing happened,” Morro grumbled. Echo hummed, looking at the ground, probably counting the cracks in the road again.

“He didn’t even get the superstition right. It’s breaking a mirror that gives you seven years of bad luck, not a ladder.” Morro snorted at Echo’s unimpressed tone, a new but welcome change from his perpetual cheerfulness borne out of a need for companionship due to being isolated for so long.

Well, it wasn’t like he was going to be alone again. Even if they were cursed with bad luck, Morro had escaped being dead once. He can totally do it again.

With that mindset in place, Morro turned his attention back to Echo’s rambling about various superstitions. And Morro took more care to not step on cracks in the sidewalks, well, no one could say he wasn’t just trying to get better at being flexible and improve his balance.

[dinoplantsghost]

pairing: Tom Riddle x fem! original character

warning(s): tom is a warning in itself, 1940s: time-accurate prejudice, one or two racist comment(s) and mention of n@z!s, teenage behavior: drama and language, mention of Walpurgisnacht and Christianity, there's probably more but idk

word count: ~4515

Disclaimer: I have a huge google doc that holds all of my drafts and I'm quite literally just copypasting everything, so if there are any typos/errors, no there isn't!! :)

-- okay now this one kind of eats, I just skimmed through it and I lowkey forgot I wrote this

Chapter List

The Knights of Walpurgis [7]

13:15 - Wednesday 18th

Tracy had bumped into Saoirse during their shared free period before lunch, his lips not in their usual smile when he dragged her off campus to a bench near the Black Lake. 

He was concerned about his friends—or ‘their’ friends, as he had phrased it. For once, Saoirse understood what it was like to “be in the know” and be part of a unit of people. 

“I tried talking to Ava,” he sighed. “But she gets all emotional whenever I bring it up; I just want to understand what happened, but I guess I get why she doesn’t want to tell me. Maybe it was bad or something.” 

“Griffin was telling me something about it after the first Quidditch match, although very vaguely. He was mostly talking to himself, it seemed like.” 

“Really? I’m surprised, considering how much he didn’t like you when I first introduced you to each other.” Tracy leaned back, his brows furrowed as a hand reached up to pinch at his delicate skin. “What did he say?” 

Saoirse shrugged. “In all honesty, I wasn’t paying attention; I’m not used to comforting people and he was too busy crying to really say anything interesting or important.”

Despite her insistence that she didn’t remember much, Saoirse went into detail about how Eugene had wept over Ava-Lynn and how she “broke his heart.” She always took the opportunity to talk her mouth off. 

Tracy, usually thirsty for drama and all of its wondrous theatrical moments, paused. “Eugene and Ava? Together? I don’t believe it,” he huffed. “Ava’s a great person with strong morals. And I mean, Eugene is my friend and all, but…” 

Saoirse shrugged once more. He clearly knew them better than her and yet he was just as confused.

The boy shook his head, his shaggy hair hitting his cheeks as he rubbed his eyelids. “Thanks for telling me. I don’t think Ava would have told me that even if I threatened her; I would be embarrassed too. But also, there’s something else I needed to talk to you about.”  Tracy pulled his legs up, sitting tailor-fashioned on the bench, smearing mud and grass on his trousers. “You know we share Defense classes, right,” he asked. “Because I’ve seen you hanging out with those guys lately—the ones from Slytherin. If you were smarter, you’d stop talking to them.” 

Saoirse frowned. “That’s exactly what Patrick said about you and Griffin the other day. He said any friend of Griffin’s isn’t good.” 

“Well, that nerd is a hypocrite,” he scoffed. “Every one of his friends, including him, is a no good, snotty, rich boy raised on outdated ideals. They’re no better than the Nazis we hear about from the Muggle war.” 

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that, she thought. 

“But Patrick is really nice,” she argued. “He told me that he hates the Sacred Twenty-Eight; he wants nothing more than to be on his own when he finishes school.” 

“He’s obviously lying. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, as they say.” 

“What do you mean? What apple?” 

“Nevermind,” he groaned. Tracy stood from the bench, doing nothing to wipe off the grim from his uniform. “Forget what I said; it’s an idiom you don’t get yet. But either way, don’t come running to me when that group decides to throw you to the side, Saoirse.” 

It was not until lunchtime did Tracy try to talk to Saoirse again. After their conversation at the bench, the boy left in frustration since she did not understand why he disliked Patick when he had Eugene Griffin as a friend. In her eyes, he had no right telling her who to be around when that Hufflepuff student was clearly just as bad. 

When lunch rolled around, she didn’t entertain his attempts at conversation because she was too busy scratching at arithmancy work that was due within the next hour or so. Saoirse wasn’t horrible at mathematics, per se; it’s the way symbols and numbers danced around on the tree pulp that annoyed her. Mahoutokoro had a different way of calculating things, and Arithmancy was completely separate from what she was formally taught from a young age. Saoirse still had a hard time handling a quill, and her handwriting needed to be small so each equation could fit nicely on the same page. Her eyes also strained if she looked at her work for too long, which is one of many reasons she was currently sitting at the Ravenclaw lunch table alone, her back curled over as she scribbled away slowly. With each snag her quill hit on the parchment and each ink bubble that burst and melted into her skin, she felt closer to committing another murder. Maybe it would be better if it was her that was dying this time around. 

Luckily, she was able to finish the assignment in time. Arithmancy class always went by faster than her brain processing every little thing she wrote. By the time she was out of the classroom and following her peers down the hall like a school of fish, her thumb had difficulty flexing and stretching out her fingers did not get rid of the tense feeling in her hand. 

As she walked into Merrythought’s classroom, Saoirse pinched the bridge of her nose to numb the throbbing pain in her head as she plopped down next to Patrick, who fortunately recovered just fine after the start of the month. 

“Are you alright,” he asked. “You’re pinching your nose again.” 

He dug around in his satchel, pulling out a small glass container with clumpy circles of brown. The boy gave one to Saoirse, a thin layer of sugar melting from the warmth of her palm. “My family gets these Godiva treats every time we visit Belgium,” he explained. “We’re not supposed to do this at school, but I infuse the share I get with soothing elixirs I make in my spare time. I have this thing called astigmatism, so I get headaches and migraines often.” 

She took a small bite, her front teeth sore from the sweet’s brittleness. “It’s very sweet,” she muttered. “Almost too sweet…”

Patrick blushed, embarrassed that Saoirse didn’t like it. “Oh, well, you don’t have to eat it all! I’m sorry you don’t like it!”

She waved a hand. “No, I will,” she replied. “I’m just not used to it. I like it.” 

As the girl took another bite, she was unaware of the smear of crumbs on the corner of her mouth. Without another thought, Patrick cupped her cheek, flicking flecks of almond and caramelized sugar. 

Eloise, along with the other Knights, made a noise of discomfort. “Get a room,” he whined. “No one wants to see that, Patrick.” 

The Austrian boy froze, pulling his touch away from Saoirse’s cheek dusted in pink and red.  “Sorry…”

───────────

The Transfiguration Professor was odd. In her mind, he resembled the many (old as fuck) men she saw in Japan, though he was not nearly as old. He always wore lavender robes, and insisted on speaking in a way that drove her to insanity. Albus Dumbledore, the Head of the Gryffindor House, always spoke softly. He spoke so delicately, in fact, that his breath would slip through the little gap in his front teeth, causing his speech to have a whistle throughout. It sounded like a fork dragging against a porcelain plate, a sound she only recently discovered her first night in the Great Hall. 

When Dumbledore asked Saoirse to speak to him during her free time after Defense Against the Dark Arts, she wanted to bang her head against a desk. She had heard stories about him from Merrythought. He had a male lover that he was enemies with, apparently. 

“I hope Hogwarts has been to your liking,” the old man said. “I’m sure your former school was very enchanting. I’ve always wanted to visit Mahoutokoro, you see.” 

“Hogwarts has been very kind to me, sir, much better than Mahoutokoro.” 

“Wonderful! It’s always good to see the positive in every change and shift in life, after all. Now, how are you doing socially? Any friends? Like that Mayfield boy, Tracy.” 

“I’m not that close to Mayfield. I would consider him more of an acquaintance; I believe that is the word.”

Dumbledore hummed, his eyes twinkling as he fiddled with his beard. “I see…Are you having trouble finding eagles to group with, dear?”

Saoirse shook her head. “No, sir, I just find myself around Patrick Nott and his group more often.” 

The man sighed. He plucked his eyewear from his wobbling nose, wiping the grime off with a smooth cloth. “Saoirse, dear, the reason I have pulled you aside is because I am worried,” he frowned. “And while you are an eagle rather than a lion, it is my duty as an adult and a teacher to make sure every student is doing well. Now, I say this out of the concern from your friend—no, your acquaintance, as you referred to him. Mister Mayfield only wants the best for you, as do I.” 

Saoirse’s brows furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“Mister Mayfield has told me of the group you surround yourself with, Saoirse, and with my own eyes I can say with a full heart that these boys will give you nothing but trouble.” 

He leaned against his desk, clasping his hands as he stared at the Japanese girl with a sorrowful expression. “I fear Saoirse, amongst that group of Slytherins, is a boy who is too dark, too far into his ambitions to be deemed safe. He is dangerous. Any involvement with him will throw you off a path of light and good.” 

The girl craned her neck. She was sure her face was stuck with her lip pulling at the corner, her eyes darting around to avoid the old man’s gaze. “Professor,” she laughed. “I can assure you that none of them are ‘dangerous.’ They’re teenage boys that are driven by hormones, food, and sports.” 

“No,” Dumbledore argued. “You’re not understanding, Saoirse. Amongst those boys is a tortured soul, one that cannot be healed or fixed by any means. Mister Mayfield came to me in hopes that you would realize the dangers these Slytherins put you in.” 

Saoirse crossed her arms, scoffing. Mayfield was hardly any character to throw his opinion into her life. “With all due respect sir, I barely know Mayfield and he barely knows those boys. Patrick and his friends are nothing but dumb airheads, especially that Riddle kid; he drives me insane.” 

“In what way?”

“That boy needs to be humbled,” she sighed. “He’s brash. He thinks he has this authority over everyone. He’s really not all that.” 

“Would you care to elaborate,” Dumbledore pushed. “While Tom is destined for greatness, that is for sure, the boy is very troubled.” 

The girl was silent, her jaw tensing in thought. “I’m sorry, sir,” she drawled. “I hardly think it’s my place to speak of Riddle’s issues, especially when I couldn’t care any less.” Saoirse stood from her chair, letting the legs scratch against the wooden floor of the man’s office. “Now if you’d excuse me, I’d like to enjoy my free time before History of Magic.” 

Ignoring Dumbledore’s demanding gaze, Saoirse’s legs took a stride out of his office and away from his classroom. She glided through each hallway, twisting and turning each corner as her mind honed in on the plans forming in her head. 

She had every reason to stick by those boys in green, to keep an eye on that sick fuck who took his “friends” for granted. It wasn’t hard to see how the others were strangled around his finger. Considering Rosier’s speech the night she was informed of their little club, it only confirmed the rumors she had heard, most of them from Mayfield. And while she never had friends before, it wasn’t rocket science to have basic human decency. 

But she was curious, so fucking curious as to why Riddle seemed to have put it upon himself to carry the burdens of an entire aristocratic group of blue bloods. According to Patrick, Riddle was never a name within the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He was a nobody, to put it simply. Yet somehow, by some miracle, he was at the center of some of Europe’s powerful heirs of their generation. 

There was darkness in the boy; that was something she could agree on with Dumbledore. During her spar in Merrythought’s classroom, Riddle was cold and calculated, but he was easily aggravated—”trigger happy” is what Patrick called it. Riddle gets jealous whenever the spotlight trails off him, causing a controlled temper tantrum of sorts in order to regain his title as the model student. 

It didn’t take long for her feet to drag all the way to the Slytherin dungeons. The password slipped past her lips, and she ignored the harsh stares from those in green as she looked for the familiar door with the number ‘13’ on it. 

The door swung open, Miles Lestrange leaning against the frame with crossed arms. “If you’re looking for your boyfriend, he isn’t here,” he smirked. “Patrick’s in the library, as usual.” 

“I’m not looking for Patrick, I’m looking for Riddle. What’s his door number?” 

Lestrange curled a brow in interest, pushing himself off the door frame as he mused, “Oh? You’re already bored of Florian? How rude of you, Saoirse.” 

“Florian?” 

“Yeah, that’s Patrick’s middle name.” He ran a hand through his curls. “Anyways, why do you need Tom?” 

“I just need to talk to him,” she frowned. 

Miles sighed, “His door number is seven; he rooms with ‘Brax, Louis, and Cass’.” 

With a small thanks, Saoirse retraced her steps, eyes dancing to the bold, black number on teak wood. The girl did not have many hopes of speaking to the boy today, but when she rapped her knuckles on the door, it was quick to snap open and make her jump out of her skin. 

It was odd to see Riddle in simpler clothing. He didn’t have his robe on, nor his gray sweater vest. Instead, he only wore the Oxford shirt all students were required to wear, along with his green and silver tie that hung loose under his collar. He did not speak, expecting Saoirse to have words roll off her tongue with ease, only to realize her eyebrows were crumpled up as she gathered her English. 

“I don’t have all day, you know,” he uttered, a breath of annoyance flushing past his nostrils. “Midterms are coming up; you should be studying instead of wandering off.” 

When the girl stayed silent, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Before he could slam the door, however, she spoke: 

“Let me join that stupid club of yours, Riddle.” 

Tom froze, the Adam’s apple in his neck bobbing as he turned on the ball of his foot. “Whatever Nott told you is none of your business.” 

“It became my business when you beat up the poor boy for rightfully spending his free time with whomever he chooses. Besides, he was following your dumb orders regardless.” 

Tom yanked Saoirse by her collar, throwing her inside the vacant dorm. The door finally slammed shut, the flame from the fireplace flickering against his high cheekbones and set jaw. 

“What did those idiots tell you,” he demanded through clenched teeth. It didn’t take long for the distance between the teens to close, Tom’s long legs taking strides to push Saoirse against the beam of Cassius’ four-poster bed. 

“They told me everything.”

“Really, everything?” 

“Everything they wanted to tell me before Orion demanded that I get some sleep.”

Saoirse hated how tall the boy was. People were rarely his height in Mahoutokoro, but it seemed like European genetics had these boys shooting for the stars. Through her lashes and frames, she could see how flared his nose was, how his lip was in permanent disgust at the thought of her being in his presence. 

Hesitant, Saoirse forced her tongue away from her inner cheek as she spoke, “Dumbledore spoke to me a while back…He seemed weirdly obsessed with you. I just wanted to know why.” 

Apparently, the mere mention of the man was enough to set the boy off. His eyes flashed with anger, perhaps even fear, but it was difficult to tell when Tom distanced himself from the girl to pace around the middle of the room. 

“What,” she smirked. “Do you have a secret affair with him or something? Trust me, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen such a—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he hissed. He turned to face her, a finger pointed in her direction as he pressed, “What did he say to you?” 

“I may or may not have spoken of you in a negative light,” she shrugged. “Dumbledore was trying to ask what I knew of you, which isn’t much.” 

Saoirse sighed, taking off her frames to rub her tired eyes. She sat down on Mulciber’s bed, letting her legs hang from the side as she laid down on his unmade sheets. “Whatever you’re trying to do with the Chamber of Secrets, It’s obvious that he knows.” She ignored the noise that came from his throat. “Senile men are a lot smarter than people would like to think; more deceitful as well.” 

She was met with silence, with the occasional crackling from the logs under the fire. 

“I don’t see the point in you being a Knight,” Tom said. “You’re only doing this for Nott.” 

“So,” she questioned. “You would be getting more out of your posse if I joined, regardless of my reasons. You would make a pretty shitty cult leader if you didn’t take advantage of your members, you know.” 

“And what makes you think the Knights of Walpurgis isn’t already a cult?”

The ashes under the flame fluttered, logs crumbling further down in prolonged silence. 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

TR~S 

Saoirse did not know what to expect when she followed three boys in the middle of the night. After Astronomy class, Tom guided her, along with Patrick and Mulciber, up the castle. She never really got used to the moving stairs, but by the time they made it to the seventh floor, Saoirse’s head was already spinning and her hands clung onto Nott’s arm. 

The four of them moved quickly, footsteps light against the limestone flooring. Corner after corner, corridor after corridor, the teens finally stopped in the middle of a fork. Tom, the self-appointed line leader, walked up to the towering wall in front of them before pacing back and forth. Soon, the floor received residual shocks as the wall shook and split in the middle to open up. 

Patrick nudged Saoirse along, shutting her slack jaw with a forefinger. “You’re going to catch a fly in your mouth, Schatzi.” 

Seeing the girl in awe of one of the many hidden treasures Hogwarts had to offer, Cassius slapped a friendly hand to her back. “You’ll get used to it,” he chuckled. “I remember when we first found the Come-and-Go Room; our buddy Patrick here had the same reaction. You two are cute together, by the way.”

“Don’t say that,” hissed Patrick, his glasses fogged and his ears red. “Saoirse, Cassius doesn’t mean that at all, he’s just joking!”

The foreigner only smiled, amused by how Patrick’s eyebrows always curled whenever he was nervous. She followed the boys inside, craning her neck to inspect the castle’s magical and ever-changing architecture once more. Saoire always loved buildings, especially those built in the period of Gothic architecture. She loved how stained windows had become popular then, and she especially loved the Biblical iconography of the Christian faith, how it drowned cathedrals and other buildings in symbolism. 

Saoirse was pulled out of her trance by Patrick again, leading her to an ellipse-shaped table. He pulled out a chair for her before taking a seat next to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she witnessed Mulciber attempting to do the same for Rosier, only for his burly hands to be swatted away by his friend. 

“Now that everyone is here,” Tom drawled. “Patrick, if you could start the meeting.”

The boy in question nodded, his eyes fierce behind his perched frames. He stood, his chair scraping against the tile before he spoke, “The date is Thursday, November 19th, 1942. The time is 1:29 in the morning. All members are present and accounted for, along with one guest.” He glanced down at Saoirse, who had her eyes set on his figure the entire time. “The Knights of Walpurgis’ second meeting of the fall term is now in session.” 

Tom thanked Patrick with a wave of his hand, allowing the boy to sit down before speaking. He stayed standing, opting to pace at the head of the table.  “As you can see, men, we have a willing candidate to become our next knight.” 

With each word he spoke, Tom held onto the boys’ attention; moths to a raging flame. Their backs were straight, hands in their lap as they kept their heads high and their loyalty even higher. Saoirse had never seen Avery so serious before. 

“It has also come to my attention,” Tom mused. “That Dumbledore is attempting to thwart our plans once more. But do not worry; we have gotten past his insistence before.” He gestured a hand to Saoirse, signaling her to rise from her seat. “The girl has been in our presence for long enough, it seems. Saoirse, do you understand what the Knights of Walpurgis stand for?” 

She could only shrug. “I have some semblance of a mission, I guess.” 

“The origins of our name, the Knight of Walpurgis, comes from the holiday of Walpurgisnacht,” Patrick explained. “Walpurga was a saint long ago, known for battling diseases and witchcraft. She converted many people to Christianity and was sought after for protection against our practices. The holiday lasts from April 30th to May 1st, commemorating her canonization as a saint.

“We reclaimed the meaning of Walpurgisnacht. Just as she protected those from witchcraft and magic, we want to protect those from Muggles and their violent attempts at eliminating our populations. We, the Knights of Walpurgis, want to eliminate non magic folk, just as Muggle have done to us in the past in a similar fashion.” 

It made sense, Saoirse thought. However, surely not every Muggle had the same opinions. She turned to Tom, questions pooling in her mind. “So what does this have to do with the Chamber of Secrets?”

“As I’m sure the boys have told you,” he responded. “The Chamber is said to hold the very monster Salazar Slytherin planned to use himself. Our main problem is that the Chamber cannot be located.” 

“And you’ve checked everywhere?” 

“Yes, we’ve checked the library, asked people in the Sacred Twenty-Eight; there is nothing.” 

“Hogwarts: A History has a section on Salazar Slytherin, albeit small. It said that he was a Parselmouth and apparently, only those from his direct bloodline can inherit this ability. Maybe that’s why it can’t be found.” 

It was like a lightbulb had gone off—though, lightbulbs were made by Muggles, and electricity barely made sense to the Pureblood heirs. Eloise downed the drink in front of him—presumably alcohol— slamming his glass down to the table in fervor. 

“I knew Asians were smart,” he laughed. “But not this smart! It makes so much sense!” Eloise turned to Tom, arms outstretched in excitement. “Tom—sorry, my Lord, you’re a direct descendant of Salazar!” 

Saoirse ignored the weird title. Maybe they had a similar hierarchy system here, like Japan. 

“Yes, Avery, that’s an amazing observation.” Tom smiled ugly, stopping any laughter from bubbling in Avery’s throat. “Obviously I’ve thought of that, you idiot.”

It made sense now. That’s why Riddle was accepted into the group so easily. But still, as Saoirse picked at the chipped and frayed wood of the table, her mind could not wrap around the fact that the boy’s surname held no importance, no connection to any Pureblood family. Even with that information, it also wasn’t plausible for his status to be anything but Pureblood; his lineage made sure of that.

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon enough,” smiled Miles. “After all, we have until the end of fall term.” 

“Which families were closest to Slytherin’s descendants,” Saoirse asked. “Surely there has to be something in an office or study.” 

“We’ve tried that,” Abraxas frowned. “We even asked MIles’ mum, who practically knows everyone in Europe. The next family that would be closest would be mine, but I’ve been looking since last summer; my father has nothing.” 

Tom spoke, his words carrying hopeful encouragement to his lackeys. “That is why I have decided to bring you tonight, Saoirse. With your foreign knowledge, we could broaden our horizons.” 

The girl could only shift in her seat to cross her arms and legs. “You really think Salazar Slytherin brought a creature from Japan all the way to the middle of nowhere in Scotland?” The look in his eyes gave everything away to her; he knew it was a stretch, too. “Look,” she sighed. “Japan really only has spirits and demons. There’s nothing I can think of that would have that much power. Sure, there are yōkai that look like snakes, which seems like something Slytherin would be particular about, but again, like I said; nothing from Japan could have the type of power to kill entire populations.” 

“Well, no matter,” he sighed. “It is just as Miles said: we have until the end of the fall term.” Tom waved an arm, prompting the girl to stand up and make her way to his side. “I’m sure you’re tired, Saoirse. It’s not usual to be up this late in the night. Before you leave, though, it is customary for all Knights to be…inducted, if you will. If I could have your left arm, please.”

───────────

“Which one of you thought it was good for the girl to know of our plans?” Tom sighed for the umpteenth time, his stomach churning with disappointment as none of the boys sitting before him could get a word out in full confidence. 

“It was Eloise,” Abraxas tensed. “He accidentally told Saoirse about the Chamber, but Orion eventually convinced her to join for Patrick’s sake.” 

Surprisingly, Tom did not blow up towards Avery’s mistake. “Orion, good job,” he mused. “This is very pleasant to hear. I’m glad to know that at least one of you knows how to seize an opportunity, the behavior of a true Slytherin.” 

It was very rare for Tom to throw compliments. If he praised you, then he was just a smidge happy; if he was happy, then there was a lesser chance of him being mad. No one liked when he was mad. If you could gain Tom’s acknowledgement, you were given the highest doses of immunity one could obtain. 

In the eyes of his followers, gaining merciful immunity was the ultimate goal, even if it meant sabotaging those closest to you.

Credit(s): Dividing banner (^^^) by Chen Lu (1436 - 1449) - "Plum Blossoms in Moonlight" scroll painting; sourced through Pinterest

[ticklish-n-stuff]

HIII SAKURAAA FOR DAY 6 OF TKTOBER, MAYBE LER HAJIME AND LEE NICO OR JUST ANY OF THE INMATES FROM CELL 13 I LOVE THEM MY BABIES

Tickletober day #6: Chase

WOOO FIRST NANBAKA FIC BABYYY (wrote this prior to the other one)

I rlly struggle so hard to write ler Hajime im so sorry 😭 So I went with ler Upa instead cause I just LOVE his dynamic with Nico 💖💖💖💖💖

Hope you like it! I had a lot of fun writing this :3

___________________________________________

Nico x Upa (interpret as you wish)

Lee: Nico

Ler: Upa

Warnings: Tickles!

___________________________________________

“You’ll have to catch me first!” were Nico’s last words before dashing on out of the room. Was Upa really about to indulge in this childish display, yes, yes he was.

Prior to that, Nico had been up to his usual shenanigans, trying to get his “master” to teach him his sick moves. Of course, Upa couldn’t do that with the potential harm it could cause, but nothing he said could deteer away the stubborn greenette. When all hope felt lost, he remembered something that Nico’s cellmates shared with him. Something that would surely tire out this bundle of joy. It was a silly plan, but Upa had no other choice.

“Nico” spoke up the blue haired male sternly. But that didn’t last long as his voice started to waver. “This is so stupid…” he muttered under his breath before speaking up once more. “If you don’t stop, I’ll uhh… t-tickle you…”. His cheeks slowly went up in flames, although the talisman smacked dead center in his forehead did a good job of hiding his evergrowing blush.

Nico felt taken aback at the sudden threat, but it didn’t last long as his face lit up with excitement “Haha! You’ll have to catch me first~”.

And thus we go back to their current predicament. I mean, Upa kinda brought this upon himself. With no other choice, he chased after Nico down the halls of Nanba prison (surely they’ll get scolded later but whatever).

Nico’s cheerful laugh echoed all over the place, while Upa had the most determined look on his face. Nico might’ve been fast, but Upa had a plan. Taking a detour, he managed to catch up to Nico. Ungraciously tackling him, causing botj of them to roll across the ground, until Upa managed to straddle Nico’s hips.

“Hyahaha! You’re too good at this game, master. You’ll have to teach me your strategy later~”.

“We’ll see about that” Upa’s hands quickly latched onto Nico’s sides. Albeit, he wasn’t sure what he was doing, something as silly as tickling wasn’t something he was used to. Seeing his uncertainty, Nico decided to help him out. He softly grabbed Upa’s hands and guided them towards his tummy.

“Try here instead!” spoke out the greenette with a bright smile.

“Erm… like this?” Upa started to slowly wiggle his fingers along the spot, a bit clumsily at that.

“Ehehehe! Yeheah just like thahat!” Nico playfully kicked his legs out from bejinf like a puppy.

Seeing the cute reactions from his friend underneath him, Upa started to gain s bit more confidence and sped up his fingers. Enjoying watching Nico wriggling all over the place.

“What about here? This tickle too?~” he’s not sure where this teasing came from, but I guess we’re rolling with it. Upa moved his hands up to Nico’s ribs, gently massaging between each bone.

“aCK! AHAHAHA! YEHEHES! IT REHEHEALLY TICKLES!!!” Nico squealed and threw his head back in boisterous laughter. Upa couldn’t help but giggle along, his laugh was so happy and carefree, so contagious.

“Let’s see… maybe here??~” the blue haired male gave a soft squeeze to Nico’s hips, almost getting bucked off in the process. “Oh? Bad spot?~” Upa started rubbing his thumbs along the sensitive hipbones, causing Nico to shriek in ticklish glee.

“WAHH! HYAHAHAHA! I-I CAHAHAN’T! I GIHIHIVE!!!” Nico shrieked out as he wheezed in laughter. His long, green hair having become a complete mess with all his squirming.

Seeing how Nico’s body stopped reacting so vividly, Upa decided to cut him some slack and got off of him. He looked down at the panting inmate, feeling a sense of pride in being able to wear him out. He’d never admit it out loud, but Upa had the time of his life playing this silly game with Nico. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad having him around.

___________________________________________

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Almost famous

This is an interesting concept and it goes back to the beginning of time whenever there has been a rockstar there has been followers whenever there has been a group there has been groupies whenever there has been something that is big in the world from Nazi Germany to big group and supported whether it be good or bad as i’m showing you now that had massive supporters absolutely huge following but it wasn’t necessarily good and people know that it wasn’t good when it comes to music and rockstars and any kind of group not even like it doesn’t even have to be like Led Zeppelin when you think of this subject it could be Fleetwood Mac ,notoriously party animals also …. so what distinguishes these things and make them different? Nothing nothing distinguishes them it’s all about perception anyway and the thing that makes it I guess less controversial is there like oh they’re an artist they’re expressing that art. This goes for me in a massive way of how Marilyn Manson has got away almost with what he did to Rachel would especially if you wanna talk about the heart-shaped glasses video where he actually committed a sexual assault in the video, he was very telling who this man is and some of the interviews he gave at the time of the relationship.

Iggy Pop, Another big artist in the 60s and the 70s with the Stooges I think was part of the Sun strip the LA New York City life and London where they had groupies of course and groupies don’t come as women who sleep with the band they come with women who support the band who do their washing men their clothes who make their clothes who don’t get any credit for some other things that they do to help it all becomes from a group mentality, this is why I get angry and certain women are just called groupies especially in Nancy spud and yes she did hang around with groups and she did do certain things but she was extremely loyal to said they both are very young they weren’t even 22 by the time they died

I was making loads of mistakes at that age I had been in triangles I had cheated and just not just the ones I done things you would be ashamed of, but we are all young and that is the beauty that comes with you forgiveness as well looks fade and you see all the time on TikTok where beauty is the only currency that matters Which can give a very pessimistic outlook?

So why did this become such a massive thing? There were a groupies and they’re roughly around the same same age as the groups because a lot of these groups are very young you have to remember the Beatles started out when they were in their late early 20s same with the stones, but things were getting more debauchery you had Keith Moon blowing up toilets starting explosive drugs with plenty for drink was everywhere it wasn’t a bad thing back there necessarily and you weren’t didn’t exist. I’m afraid there were more prescription tablets available. This is an excuse but it’s part of the problem.

Also going back to Iggy Pop he wrote a song in 1996. It was released where he bragged about having sex with a 13-year-old sable star. He had her at 13. She got bored and ran away with a New York Doll something along those lyrics Saber walked away from the groupie life layer in life and became living in Nevada Las Vegas, I think she died of cancer but she was away from the life and never really interviews again,. Laurie Maddox doesn’t regret a thing. The thing is she can’t consent what she did because she was a minor and they were trafficking if they were moving these girls across state lines that is trafficking and they’re so many you could mention in this blog that I am doing, Tyler page Stephen Tyler, Jimmy Page, and Stephen Tyler practically brought the daughter Julia Holcombe of her mother. She was at a concert gig whatever when she was younger I do not know the age at the time but she was young so the mother which they call in America den mother I don’t know what that is but it sounds like a woman who takes young girls out if you wanna put it bluntly kind of like a Gislaine Maxwell. She had a relationship with Stephen and she ended up getting pregnant. He was really happy with her in the beginning and they were together. She was living with him and everything. I don’t know how long with this period of time was but he was away on tour things got worse. The family met her and I think she said the experience was bad, I guess then as well and to this day I suppose the family probably thought what is this intention with my son he’s famous and making a lot of money (I’m guessing). so he’s away on tour she’s pregnant. He hasn’t left a penny. She’s got no food in the house. She’s got one person I think or something of this sort bringing her bits of food and bits of money but you and far between now happens in the building and she has to learn how to roll into a fireplace to save old fireplaces to save her self or something in school, he didn’t want the pregnancy and I believe she had a abortion and she’s having the abortion or it’s just ended all that pain on the woman’s physical and emotional pain. Not to mention this man cares she said he didn’t care at all. He was there doing cocaine and then just offering her cocaine well she’s just lost something that she really wanted..

You can go to the hip-hop industry and we have a Corinne Steffens who released the whole book and many other books about the music industry and the predatory nature and the hip-hop industry is even more sexual and even more the butcher and the type of men and some of them are gay and closeted, like fingers up the booty and this is in the 90s or early to very early 2000s I think she said the experience of her being in the music industry was for 18 months but she ended up really bad on drugs and alcohol to the point where she ended up in the bathroom like comatose and nearly dying, it’s very dangerous out there especially young women entertainment industry what would we have? What would be entertained by? I do have respect for these people. I have respect for the ones who put in the effort and do what they give they give us this music which is a perfect gift this is why we have to separate the artist from actions but the same actions must be punished. All we need a whole massive system where this gets changed and a whole massive corporate thing would have to changed of the one percent in the world. I don’t know but I see it starting to happen with all these allegations from R. Kelly, Epstein to that list of Epstein flight logs to the start of it with Harvey Weinstein Bill Cosby Kevin Spacey, even the Johnny Depp and Amber trial where we see a window in today peoples lives and I saw something really interesting the other day which was fought from reading magazines back when I was a teenager in and up to my mid 20s until I realised there was a huge agenda as I was reading when I was reading if I read a story about 10% of it is going to be real and the rest of it is Fiction, the more I realise where is true it is blind items where you actually hear the whole truth of what this entertainment industry is really like so anyway me going off track as I usually do where I went to the point of titling this almost famous, these are the other percentage of people the ones who get given the bad name or the Scarlett letter, the ones who have their name dragged the mud, the ones who are drug addicts sluts, the l list goes on, to Britney Spears having a breakdown and being called fat when this woman had literally just lost the custody of her children been tarnished by her ex partner who was nothing before he met her and they expected this young girl who started out in the entertainment industry at 18 and he’s probably stunted at that age gave us her whole career her age she gave us all this. She gave us her while she was going probably through. Absolute hell I don’t even like to think about it

That the movement became a pariah against this going back to what I saying about magazines so they want that to be as sided media there’s always a side that always has to be a winner or a loser. That’s what keeps it going and that’s what keeps this battle continuing and it will never end there always has to be a winner and an underdog and a loser. With Israel or Palestine,.

As I stress the point of them calling these people who call out their industry and call out the bad and callout corporations companies people there are allowed to call these people mental crazy drug addicts has been but are they allowed to call them evil are they allowed to call them? Satanist? Are they allowed to call them? Jewish and I am going to say that because as soon as you call someone Jewish though your auntie Summit do you not think these people have been in this industry that long and who haven’t joined the 500 million club Know that there is good and bad. Why is it talked about so many times that if you go through certain or certain opportunities are open up for you because you were doing these things humiliation and rituals? No they just called you crazy but why is the story I ask you always always the same These people were almost famous they did so much and you can watch it in the film almost famous where these groupies get all these bad names and like sexual beings and nothing more than that with Nancy and I’ve read her mother‘s book she came from her good background I rich background Didn’t matter if she hadn’t she still wasn’t the person they were betraying her to be. She was mentally ill from the day she was born. I won’t being strangled by her and umbilical cord. Her mother said how much she struggled every day back in those days she would’ve been called schizophrenic but I believe she was autistic 100% I believe this?

Harder to be diagnosed with problems like that than it is men men are less likely to get diagnosed with things like borderline personality disorder and maybe any kind of mood disorder. Where is women are less likely to have anything that is cognitive I guess anyway I just thought I’d like to go onto my TikTok and you’ll see me talk about Desiree Washington Mike Tyson‘s rape victim. I may have done a story About him on here being similar chart to Wendy and Courtney but matters thank you. I am now going to do a podcast on mental health and mental health conditions and how they present? 

[olives-and-lilies]

Fic Writer 20 Questions

@blirzy Thanks for including me! Sorry it took a minute, I was out of town.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

22, but a lot of them are art for other writers (big bangs mostly). I think only 8 of them are fics… so I am still pretty new.

2. What’s your AO3 word count?

15,763! Not bad!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Almost strictly Star Wars, though in years prior (many, many years) I used to write Hetalia and Naruto before falling out of the world of fanfic writing. Y’all can thank a rigorous scholastic career for that one.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

In general, it’s all art for other writers that get kudos, of my own written work its:

1. The Rations of Memory (13 Kudos)

2. I Thought I Was Alone (11 Kudos)

3. Manhunt (4 Kudos)

The rest of my very few works have 2 or 1 Kudo, this is okay, I am still getting back into writing again.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I try to always respond, even if it’s just a line or two! You took the time to leave me feedback, even if it’s just an emoji, and I appreciate it so much!

6. What’s the fic your wrote with the angstiest ending?

I find I have been writing a lot of angst endings, if not just heartwrenching pieces in general. I think it would have to be Gala Gone Wrong, cause while it doesn’t hurt the whole time or strike hard like Manhunt or How Did You Reach Me?, GGW shows you what could have been, and then takes it away.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I guess that depends on how you define happy ending? Probably I Thought I Was Alone, it’s such a hurt/comfort.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

God no, thankfully. I hear about it but have never had to suffer that particular fate.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I used to, in like, middle school. I wasn’t very good and I definitely cringe when I come across those old files. I might pick it up again one day.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I do not, I have a big enough sandbox in star wars as it is, I feel like trying to mix things would just confuse me. Or I’d fixate on something, trying to get the mechanics all mashed together right.

11. Have you had a fic stolen?

Most likely not, I am very tiny.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, am smol.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No but that sounds dope? Like a brainstorm session but we each have scenes/sections/characters that we do?

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Brutal mate. Like, just in the sandboxes I play in now? Top Five maybe? I have different faves for different wants. If I want fluff its gonna be a different go to than angst or kink.

After talking to some folks who have suffered my existence for many years, the answer is Zuko/Katara, and apparently any Red/Blue coded ships, or Yellow/Purple if I’m “in a mood”

(it’s my partner, my long suffering partner who is “folks”)

15. What’s a WIP you’d like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

The Scopes Hanahaki fic, How Did You Reach Me?. I had big dreams for that one, showing him and the distance he puts between himself and everyone else, how he doesnt realize Sprays is the only one who has slipped under his guard. I wanted to have them team up with the 212th, to watch Cody handing a trooper a lozenge to help with the worst of the hanahaki (an idea that was in the Heavy Off A Golden Hue series by catboydogma, which I got to work on). To ask, to realize. I never decided if it would kill him, or if Sprays would find out.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I’m going to go with Framing. I set the frame and I set the tone of the fic really well. You can come in and pretty readily know what kinda mess you’re signing up for. While I love getting to play with interpersonal relationships, the push and pull of characters and situations and growth, it is the tone I use and the frame I set up that let’s people come in and see what I am about, ya know?

(shoutout to my partner for what was essentially both a call-out and a hype up with this)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

First, it’s almost all OCs, and that’s really not how you get traction, ya know?

Second, so much of my self slips in. I have to stop and think and really remember if what the characters reaction is would be mine or theirs. If I think that the course is just, if it’s what I would want to say I would do, or was capable of, that’s not always what the character would do and I need to remember that.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I love this, it’s such a welcome challenge. I often have to find others with more knowledge than me and its a great time. I’ve gone to folks for Mando’a the most, but I’ve got unpublished pieces with Spanish, Gaelic, and even Arabic mixed into the stories because it was appropriate to the characters.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Naruto, it’s not published ANYWHERE, but I’ve a whole handwritten book of them. I was a big Kiba/Hinata shipper, among many other ships, and did a lot of OC work even back then. Hetalia too, on a long dead deviantart account that should, hopefully be well buried or properly terminated due to inactivity after all these years. I thought I was hot shit, I assure you I was not.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Building a HUD that Works, because it has so much subtle imagery and connection. It’s a push and pull of characters. I wrote it as a character study and a bingo fill, of all things, but I really do love it. The first delicate interlude from boss/employee to equals and partners. The first acts of compassion, of watching out for each other. The first learnings of each other. Ugh, I just love it. I love that it came out the way it did.

No Pressure Tags: @prowlingthunder @catboydogma

[queerwolf79]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @eyesofatragedy67

1. How many works do you have on A03?

121 so far, that number will increase within the next couple of months.

2. What's your total word count?

3,439,494

Holy shit, and that's not including the word count of unpublished works or the original novel I'm currently editing!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Actively: Supernatural; Good Omens; Our Flag Means Death; Red, White, and Royal Blue, (MAYBE DEAD BOY DETECTIVES BACK OFF)

Past: South Park; High School Musical; Beauty and the Beast; Harry Potter; Blades of Glory; and Glee.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos:

Top 5 in general (this includes co-written fics):

In a Mirror, Darkly (written with @anyreiart) - 3,068

Red, White, and Royal Blue Balls - 2,365

Playing with Fire (written with @anyreiart) - 1,748

That Wasn’t Supposed to Fucking Happen! (written with @anyrei) - 1,387

The Heart of Ophelia (written with @anyreiart) - 1,357

Top 5 Solo Fics:

Red, White, and Royal Blue Balls - 2,365

La Rose Cachée - 1,146

Twenty After Four - 390

You Know I’m No Good - 326

And Walk Yourself to the Laundromat - 318

5. Do you respond to comments?

UGH, not as much as I should, and I used to be really good about responding to all comments, but presently my inbox on Ao3 has 4402 “unread” comments and I just… I can’t, it’s too overwhelming at this point with working two jobs. But I read and genuinely appreciate every single comment, even if I can’t reply to every single one!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ah. That’s a toss up between Nothing’s Gonna Change My World and Through the Rift Series. In my opinion, the former, but I’m sure Any would beg to differ.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oooh, fun! Ummmm. Most of them have happy endings (both literally and figuratively). I guess the “happiest” ending goes to the crack fic I wrote for Any’s birthday seven years ago. Crack in the Fourth Wall

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Oh, you betcha. The first time we got a shitty comment on a joint fic, Any said, “We’ve made it!” Thankfully, when a certain newsletter was dismantled, the anti-destiel harassment died down. I/We still get the occasional “concrit” comment from readers who think it’s an okay thing to give unsolicited writing advice, and I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Constructive criticism cannot exist in already posted fanfiction world, you aren’t being constructive or critiquing, you’re literally filing a complaint, leaving a bad review. So either embrace the fact you’re a shitty 1-star Yelp review Karen, or stop leaving concrit.

9. Do you write smut?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

10. Craziest crossover?

I actually don’t write crossovers, but keep your eyes peeled! I recently participated in the CasDean Reverse Crossover Bang, and in a little over a week, I’ll be posting my Harry Potter crossover fic featuring art by the amazing @rezal-art!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not technically, or in a way that could be proven, but a very popular fic very much felt like a rip off of one of mine and Any’s fics, one that a well known author (a friend of the author of aforementioned rip off) made it a point to tell potential readers to not read the ending of because said author didn’t like the polyamory of it all.

Even funnier, that same author shortly after wrote their own poly fic. So, I guess personal preferences used to justify telling people to not read someone’s fic can sometimes beget a change of heart if it gets you more comments/readers.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Any and I have had a couple of our fics translated into Chinese, Russian, and Spanish! And we are here for anyone who wishes to translate any of our fics, just let us know and send us a link, and we will include it in the notes!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. At this point, I prefer to not write alone. Any needs to stop allowing it to happen.

14. All-time favorite ship?

Okay, so… technically, it’s Destiel. It’s the only pairing that survived the end of its series. Dean Winchester and Castiel are my two favorite archetypes of characters and their specific dynamic transcends canon bad endings and any type of universe.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don’t have any! The last time I posted a WIP, it took me a couple years to finish, so I promised myself I would only post completed fics from now on.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Comedic scenarios and dialogue. I like the funnies and the speakings.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

DESCRIPTIONS. I fucking hate it, okay? Why can’t you all just know what’s in my damn head? I also have a toxic, codependent relationship with commas and sentence fragments.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

A little mixed. So, barring it being like… Latin, or a more archaic language that you use an unreliable online translator for or a language you speak, I believe for believable dialogue, you should have a friend or someone who can confirm/verify that the language is written correctly, otherwise, I vote you write, “they spoke in x language,” and interpret in the narrative. And no writing an accent in dialogue for characters where English is a second language phonetically! Like, authentic structure of a sentence, rhythm, or word choice is fine, but let’s not be offensive folks.

19. First fandom you ever wrote in?

Harry Potter over twenty years ago now. I’m an old.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Oooh, that’s fun. Ummmm. For co-written, it’s a toss up between Five Dimensions, or Dean’s Crusade: A Dance with Self Discovery with @anyreiart or Heaven on htraE with @eyesofatragedy67 and for solo it’s a toss up between I Wish for This and La Rose Cachée

Tag time! @anyreiart @punk-is-notdead and whoever else wants to do this!

[fort-cozy-mcblanket]

Happy Shamy Anniversary! Can't believe it's been 13 years since Sheldon and Amy first met!

I had three ideas for my celebratory fic this year and by some miracle I ended up writing all three. One I posted on their wedding anniversary, one I posted yesterday, and this here is the third.

Thank you to my beta reader Stark and also Uri for reading this over! You guys are the best! And a special thank you to my friend Alejandra for answering my question of what's the most romantic equation. :)

This is also available on AO3 and FF.Net.

Please enjoy!

The first time she did it, it was on a whim.

Amy had an early-morning department meeting and was up and ready to go to work while Sheldon was still in the shower. Before she left, she opened the bathroom door to call out a goodbye, but then saw the steamed-up mirror above the sink and opted to leave her parting message there instead.

'Have a good day! Love you!' she scrawled with her finger before quickly retreating.

She wasn't sure why she did it exactly. There was just something about the idea of Sheldon stepping out of the shower, all naked and dripping, to see her little surprise note that tickled her. She drove all the way to Caltech with a smile on her face and then forgot about it for the rest of the day until she got home. The bathroom mirror was pristine by then and Sheldon never mentioned anything about it, but as she brushed her teeth in front of it that night she found herself smiling again, hoping he had liked it.

The second time she did it was just a few days later, that weekend. She got up early Sunday to meet her mother and aunt for breakfast and once again her departure time coincided with Sheldon's scheduled bathroom time.

'Have fun today! See you later!' she wrote this time, and drew a heart at the end for good measure.

When she returned that afternoon, the mirror was clean once again and Sheldon was out with the guys. She didn't think anything more of it.

The third time was on the following weekend. Amy was cleaning up from breakfast when Sheldon went to take his shower. While he was in there, Amy slipped in to write "Looking good!" in the mirror steam before slipping back out, grinning. She then settled on the bed with her iPad and waited for her turn to use the bathroom. A few minutes later the water turned off and Sheldon stepped out wearing just a towel, with a bottle of glass cleaner and microfiber cloth in hand.

"Here, since you insist on dirtying up our mirror, you can clean it this time," he said, foisting the cleaning items onto her.

"You didn't like my messages?" she asked, blinking up at him.

"It's bad enough the bathroom here isn't well-ventilated, the mirror is sure to corrode from all the condensation build-up. I would prefer not to think about all the germs and oils from your hands smeared on its surface too."

Amy sighed. Of course that's what he would think about, practicality over sentimentality. Of course she probably should have known that.

"You're upset?" Sheldon asked, surprising her.

"No," she said, but then paused. Sheldon wasn't good with reading emotions, but here he was making an effort. It didn't help either of them if she wasn't honest. "Well, maybe a little."

"Why?"

"I know it's silly," she explained. "But I guess I wanted us to be the type of couple who leaves little messages like that for each other. I thought it was romantic."

"Romantic? Smudgy mirrors are romantic now?" He threw up his hands. "Good lord, I'll never be able to keep up with all this nonsense!"

Despite herself, Amy couldn't stop from laughing a bit. Her poor, beleaguered boyfriend. He really did try to keep up with her romantic needs, she knew this. She could meet him halfway here, maybe find some other way to leave him love notes, maybe in his lunch.

"Okay, you're right," she said, standing up. "I'll clean up."

"Thank you!" he called after her as she strode into their bathroom and got to work.

----------

When Amy stepped out of the shower a few mornings later to see an equation written out in the mirror's fog, she was surprised. And annoyed. She quickly wrapped herself up in a towel and stomped out to find Sheldon.

"Oh, so I can't leave you notes on the mirror, but you can use it as an extra whiteboard for your work?" she asked.

"Didn't you read it?" he asked, looking up from where he was working on his laptop.

She opened her mouth, about to fire back that of course she read it, but actually she hadn't. Not really. She hadn't even put her glasses back on yet. She had only seen enough to know it was an equation, not words.

"Come on." Sheldon took her hand and led her back to the bathroom, passing her glasses over once they were both inside. She put them on and gave the message another look.

(∂ + m) ψ = 0

"The Dirac equation?"

"Oh good, you know it." Sheldon looked at her expectantly.

"Sure, the quantum entanglement of subatomic particles," she continued. Sheldon kept staring at her, his eyebrows raised, his head inclined toward her. She stared back.

"Good lord, you're going to make me actually say it!" he said after a few seconds passed. "Two microscopic particles can interact in a way that their quantum states become intertwined, so much so that the particles stay linked together even when a great distance comes between them."

"The initial interaction causes the two separate particles to become one system," she summed up for him, smiling. She saw it now. How two separate things can interact and affect each other in a profound and lasting way. How one could even cause the other to set aside the important principles of order and cleanliness in order to leave a love note on the bathroom mirror. "That's awfully sentimental of you, Dr. Cooper."

"Yes, well," Sheldon sighed and bent over to retrieve the bottle of glass cleaner from the cabinet next to the sink. "I blame the entanglement."

[taehyungfirst]

honestly i kind of wish both taehyung and jungkook's solos were more personal. don't get wrong, i loved layover and i'm sure golden will be fun. and i bet they both added in their own personal details in regards to the albums, but it would've been nice to see their names on the song credits. and this isn't me trying to be shady or anything because just because they weren't involved in the process, it doesn't make them any less of real musicians. it's just a personal preference i guess. but i think taehyung and jungkook are extreme perfectionists when it comes to this and we know they have a habit of deleting the songs they work on. this is shown through tae scrapping his original album, and bang pd saying jungkook was considering not doing an album at all. i think that both of them probably felt pressured to put something out before they enlist, and since everyone else was doing it too. and with enlistment, they only had a limited time to do this. and i know they've talked about making mixtapes in the past but that's different than a whole album. basically i don't blame them for how things happened but i really hope we'll get more personal things from them eventually

Hi anon! First of all, I wanna start saying that having expectations is not a bad thing, and it’s completely valid if you expected them to have some credits in the tracks, since they have shown in the past how good they are at songwriting. Now, let’s get into what i think, I’m gonna start with Taehyung because I just know more stuff about him ahaha.

Taehyung songwriting skills are actually brilliant, I always loved the snippets he showed us and some of his lyrics were actually incredible (the heart of the loveless lyrics is printed behind my eyelids), Blue and Grey which was initially a personal song debuted at #13 on the hot100, a b-side mind you. And Taehyung has always been honest to us, he updated us every time he wrote a song, every time he deleted one, every time he worked a lot, he has always told us everything and he also told us how he was “unable” to finish a song, he just starts it and then never finishes it which is why he scraped a lot of his work before, so I think he was just a bit unsure and the he confronted Mhj, who was someone who could share his vision.

Now.

There is a difference I think between having someone writing songs for you, for your vision, for the vibe you want in the album and someone who gives you pre-made songs that apparently don’t connect to eo (i’m saying this for the presence of 3D and seven, which are like sore thumbs between those angsty titles), I have no doubts Jungkook will say he listened to the songs and felt like he had to sing them because he liked them (which is okay i guess, most of artists don’t write their stuff), but if the credits were not visible, if Layover hid the credits, I would have believed 100% Tae wrote all of them, because every single track is so taehyung, Mhj listened and studied him to create perfect tracks.

And Jk also opened up on how he was in a burnout period, which is also why he relaxed at home mostly and took a break from everything (which is valid i repeat) and honestly I think that all of this is happening because of the enlistment. Because Taehyung said after Layover he wants to release his songs, so this means that if enlistment wasn’t literally behind the corner he would have had more time and worked on his own songs, same goes for Jungkook. The enlistment had a big BIG part in all of this, I think they felt pressured and they thought they couldn’t enlist without releasing something for the fans (which is not a very healthy mindset, you’ve been working hard for 10 years, you can enlist without dropping a whole album or taking trips every two weeks to film something for the fandom)… well all of this can be summarized in: I think there are differences between Tae and Jk situations (which is also their goals with Jk wanting to become a pop star in the usa market), that yes time and enlistment are partially the reasons behind everything and that they will for sure release some stuff more personal whenever they get the chance again because they are both incredibly talented artists :)

Sorry for the rambling and typos I can’t seem to find my glasses tonight.

[ghostcorazon]

One year - Michael Bluth x Reader

Michael Bluth x Reader

Set in the 1st episode, Michael is caught between his family drama, the best decision for his son, and his romantic relationship.

Note: I just got my period which explains my sudden reemergence of attraction to Michael Bluth and I just remembered I have free will so I wrote a fanfic GODBLESS 🙏I haven’t written since I was like 13 so pls let me know if you have any suggestions, feedback or advice for the future. Anything is appreciated!

Word Count: 3.5 K

Warning/details: Use of (Y/N), she/her pronouns , lots of dialogue from 1st episode (sorry), brief mention of spanish speaking/heritage reader, I just wanted to add some lore my bad yall plus we know michael loves latina women god bless ✊

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

The day that Michael had been waiting for for so long had finally arrived. He would finally be named partner of his Father’s company. The same place where he’s spent the last 10 years working to help expand and advance the family company. 

His long-term girlfriend of four years would be moving back up to California when the news was official. She had gotten a promotion in her company, but the position was in Miami. She had moved down a year and a half ago. 

It wasn’t easy for the both of them to see each other just once every other month for a weekend. Not even for George-Michael, who had grown close to her. Seeing her as a sort of maternal figure for him after his Mothers passing.

Michael and (Y/N) had discussed on one of their weekends together that when Michael would be named partner, (Y/N) would transfer back to her old position at her job to move back to California. It was a big step up for Michael in his career. (Y/N), knowing how much he’s worked for it and how important his family was to him, agreed to move back. It was a tough position, she loved her job, but she loved her new little family with Michael and George-Michael even more so she agreed. 

Michael was so grateful that she understood and agreed, he knew the sacrifice she would be taking. Which is exactly why this night was so important to him, not only did it mean that his work at his Father’s company would finally be recognized, but his partner who he loved and missed dearly would be moving back with him and his son. She couldn’t make it to George's retirement party, but would be flying in the next day.

So as Michael listened to his Father’s speech, about to announce the new company’s C.E.O, he couldn’t have had a bigger smile on his face.

“I give you the new C.E.O for the Bluth Company, certainly the smartest Bluth, my favorite Bluth, and the… Sexiest creature I have ever laid eyes on, my lovely wife Lucille”

Michael felt a wave of emotions over him, immediately turning to look at his son and seeing his face of shock. Michael looked around at the scene around him, his family congratulating his Mother. Guests applauding. 

 His father came up to him, and in a hug whispered in his ear, “Sorry, It’s not the right time.” 

Michael went numb. 

It was right then that Michael decided to never speak to his family again and to move down to Miami with his son.

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

“He got arrested??!” (Y/N) gasped.

“Oh yeah, defrauding investors and using the company as a personal piggy bank. But I guess the latter is not that much of a surprise.” Michael sighed, adjusting the phone by his ear and taking a sip of his whiskey, resting back on the couch. 

“Wow… Well I hate to say it honey but look on the bright side. Maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t name you C.E.O. I mean you would have been caught up in all this drama and left with this mess to your name!” 

“Yeah… I guess you’re right. It still hurts though. I mean after all the time and effort I’ve put in this company, I’m just looked over, like nothing.” He ranted “I’m sorry for our plans changing darling”

She feels for him, she’s been witness to all the work he’s put in and could see how much he really cared for his family’s business. (Y/N) had never been with someone who came from a family of money like Michael, but even with that he was different from any other person she’s met. He was incredibly hard working, humble and very family-orientated. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked for the company. It really is a shame he can’t see that.” 

There’s silence over the call, each one trying to deal with the news.

“Well, I do have some good news though” Michael says.

“And what’s that?” (Y/N) hums, expecting another anecdote like Tobias taking Michael’s pirate party comment seriously, ending up on a boat protesting the yacht party. 

“Well, we’re moving to Miami!” Michael laughs.

“W-what?!” 

“Yep! I’m officially done with this family. I’m tired of cleaning everyone’s messes while they get to live their life. I just want to focus on my son now and you. It’s time to focus on my own little family. You know, George-Michael deserves so much more than living in a model house, and you deserve more than us only seeing eachother for a weekend every other month.”

(Y/N) almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She could understand where he was coming from, but still couldn’t believe that Michael was just done with his family. It’s normal to hear him rant, but at the end of the day, he’d always stick around and help.

“Michael... Are you sure?” she said softly. She didn’t know what was going to happen after Michael broke the news to her earlier, but was definitely not expecting this.

“I’m 100% sure, I’m just so done with all the greed and selfishness in this family.” He sighs, already feeling relief from getting to get away from this mess.

“You should still come tomorrow, we can spend the last few days here together. We can go on a bike ride, walk the pier, maybe go to Disneyland and then go back to Miami together. I’ve got good experience, I’ll find a job down there, and we’ll get George-Michael put into school and live peacefully, just the three of us.” He smiles. Already imagining the house they’ll live in by the coast. Not a model home in the middle of a desert. But sitting out on their back patio,enjoying the breeze drinking a mojito with his partner.

She’s excited for all of them to live together again, she’s really missed them, but she can’t help but have this nagging feeling that Michael shouldn’t just abandon his family like this. Especially in a time where they need him more than ever. 

She looks at her already packed suitcase and sighs. She’ll still fly to Orange County tomorrow. She’ll talk to him about this in person, maybe it’ll be easier than over the phone. 

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

The past few days had been a dream. (Y/N) had called in work to extend her stay in California for a few extra days to help Michael get everything together for the move to Miami. All three of them had fun together on the weekend, having a last hurrah in California. When George-Michael went back to school for his last week, (Y/N) helped Michael pack, look for companies based in Miami that were hiring and getting all the papers together for the move. 

Even after (Y/N) talked to him the night she landed about if the move was the right decision, Michael was still set.

She felt bad that it had to come to these terms with his family, but excited for the three of them to be together again. She loved living in Miami, but the loneliness was bumming her out.

(Y/N) and Michael were out for lunch. Michael had just gotten out of a meeting for a job offer, both of them elated.

“I cannot wait for the three of us to be together again. No more drama, no stress, just us living our own lives. And I’m excited to get out of here. I want a fresh start, I want to experience new things, it’ll be the beginning of the rest of our lives,” he smiles

“I know, I’m already thinking of all the things we can do! I mean I didn’t want to say anything but there’s this beautiful house I found. It has t-“

Michael’s phone started to ring. 

He looks at her with an apologizing look. “I’m so sorry sweetheart, just a moment, I swear.”

He picks up the phone, “Hello?... What for?.... I mean I’m busy right now Mother… O-Ok ..”

“I’ll be there in a bit… No I’m not gonna force her to come.. I-... We’ll see… Ok I- .. Yes!  I got it Mother.. Ok.. Ok see you soon.”

He hangs up with a defeated sigh.

(Y/N) looks at him with a lifted brow. Michael lowers his head, stress already reappearing in his shoulders. 

“My Mom says she needs me to go to her apartment immediately. Something important about my Dad and the family,” Michael says.

“She asked you to come as well” He looks up timidly, “but don’t feel pressured. You don’t have to worry either, it’s probably something about his sentencing. It’ll be the last time we’ll see them anyways,” shaking his head.

She thinks about it for a moment. She wasn’t a big fan of his family really, from Gob’s obnoxious behavior, always trying to flirt with her, Lindsey’s lack of ambition and ignorance, Buster’s... well  he was there. However, strangely enough, his Mother loved (Y/N) . She had no idea why, she certainly did not like her, but never made it known to her obviously, she was still technically her mother-in-law. 

She really did admire how much Michael would help his family, even if they were crazy. Something she heavily related to. 

“Ok, yeah, I’ll go with you,” She smiles, raising her hand to intertwine with his over the table. 

He smiles back at her, “Thank you sweetheart, I don’t think I can deal with everyone again on my own” 

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

Michael and (Y/N), both sat on arm chairs pulled next to each other, facing the family. 

When they arrived they were immediately pushed to the chairs, the rest of the family on the couches, all staring.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, what exactly is this intervention for?” Michael says, already fed up. Thinking this was an important meeting to then just be an ‘intervention’.

Everyone looks around awkwardly. 

(Y/N) already knew what was going to happen.

“We need you to come back and run the business,” Lucille speaks up.

“Ah, Ok, well then, so technically it’s not really an intervention. It’s more of an imposition if you think about it.” Michael says.

“Whatever you want to call it,” Lindsey says nonchalantly. 

“I’d love to call it an imposition,”

“We’re in trouble here Michael, and I can’t perform my magic.” Gob says. 

“Oh ok, now that you guys have tried running the business yourselves, you’ve finally noticed how hard it actually is. After all these years of just running around doing whatever you want, while I’ve been here, actually working, you guys are forced to work and can’t after.. Not even a week?”

“Michael,” Lindsey starts, “I mean you’re already familiar with the business and I mean, you’re the only one that actually went to school for it. You know, in a way you owe it to Dad after what he’s done for you,”

Michael scoffs, “Oh please, I’ve already done enough for him, for all of you and the company. I think it’s time for you guys to step up anyways,”

“(Y/N)  please, tell him he should stay and help his family, don’t you think? Like you, helping your family from Brazil, you understand how important family is.” Lucille pleads. 

“Well actually they’re from- nevermind. We also speak Spanish so I don’t know where you got Brazil from, but honestly, this is Michael’s decision to make. Just like Michael can’t tell me what to do with my family, I can't tell him what to do with his. He respects my decisions so I’ll respect his. This is entirely his decision to make. I’m just here for moral support,” She says, putting a straight smile, crossing her legs over and putting her hands on Michael’s that were on her chair, for moral support. Michael looks over at her and smiles.

“You’ve disappointed me, (Y/N)... My favorite child.. Betraying me.. What has this family come to dear god,” She scoffs, downing her drink.

“Mother..” Buster says with clear hurt on his face.

 “Well I’m sorry but it’s just too late. I’m moving to Miami, I got a job,” Michael says.

The whole family just stares at him.

“It’s something you apply for, and then they pay you to um, nevermind, I don’t want to ruin the surprise. “ Michael says sarcastically. “So no hard feelings, adiós, sayonara, see you when the first parent dies,” Michael starts to get up, giving you his hand to help you get up to leave.

“Well I’d rather be dead in California than alive in Florida,” Lucille jokes.

“George-Michael, grab your coat,” Michael says, putting his hand on (Y/N) lower back.

“I think Dad would really want you to help us out here Michael,” Lindsey says. 

“Dad’s in jail,” Michael responds curtly. 

‘Well the least you can do is say goodbye to him,” 

Michael looks at (Y/N) with a sigh. She looks at him, lifts her eyebrows and tilts her head to the side. Signaling that it was a good point. Michael looks at her and shakes his head. She nods back. He looks down to the ground and sighs, she was right.

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

(Y/N) stayed back with George-Michael while Michael went to go see his Father at the prison. They were at the house, packing the final few things.

She was curious why there were daily-use things in the attic, like clothes, photos and board games.

“Hey George-Michael, why are these things stored in the attic? Just seems a bit odd considering you guys should be using these things pretty often,” She asks, taking out one of Michael’s ties that she swore she saw him wear the other day.

“Oh we’ve been living in the attic cause Dad didn’t want to mess anything up downstairs,” 

“What??!! How long has this been going on??” she says in disbelief. She had no idea about this. 

“The past year, everytime you came over we would stay downstairs. He told me not to say anything to you, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore now that we’re leaving” he says, his tone getting softer near the end. 

She had a lot more questions, like a lot more, but seeing the attitude of the boy she’s helped take care of for the past four years crushed her.

“Hey.. what’s going on bud?” She asks, going up to him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Nothing.. It’s just that.. I was starting to like getting to be with the family again, It wasn’t so lonely. Especially after you left. You know, I could feel us growing closer with the family. I just wished you were here with us, and whenever you came to visit us and we would all be together, it was really nice. Things were starting to feel normal again.. I really enjoy it. I like having an Aunt and Uncle, and a cousin Not in a weird way of course, just fun having a cousin, but not too much you know just normal cousin love haha..” George Michael says. He was getting a little weird at the end but she just brushed it off to his usual awkwardness. 

Her heart broke hearing him say that. She knew how hard George-Michael had it with his Mom dying at such a young age, how busy his Dad was, even if he tried to spend as much time with him as possible. He just wanted to be with his family, have some normalcy and feel that connection. It made sense considering he’s seen how his Dad highlights how important family is.

“Hey, what’s going on, everything alright?” Michael asks, walking up the steps to the attic.

She knew immediately what she had to do, “Michael, I need to talk to you.” 

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

They left George-Michael to finish the last bit of packing.

Michael and (Y/N) went into their bedroom, well what she thought was their bedroom but that’s for another day.

“Is everything alright? Don’t worry about what happened earlier at the imposition, we’re still moving to Miami.” 

She sat him on the side of the bed , sitting across from him and sighed 

“No, Michael… you have to stay,” She says looking him straight in the eyes.

“W-what? What do you mean honey? We already have everything set to go, I mean, what changed?” He questions, shocked.

“This isn’t good for George-Michael. If we just leave. He needs to be with all of his family, not just us. And I know, I know.. This whole ordeal is just- complicated and messy if you stay but for his sake, i think you should.” She says, holding his hands in hers.

“What do you mean ‘you’? What about us? Are we just going to keep on doing this forever? Flying back and forth?” His eyes are full of concern.

“No, well, I mean.. I don’t know Michael. George-Michael was just telling me how much he likes being with the family. We shouldn’t take that away from him. He shouldn’t be seeing you just abandoning your family like this either. You guys shouldn’t leave on bad terms.” She says with a heavy heart. She really doesn’t know what the future will be like, but she knows this move shouldn’t happen. 

“Ok.. yeah, you’re right. They’re crazy but it’s good for him to have more family around him. But.. what’s going to happen to us?” He asks.

She sighs, then moves forward to hug him. Digging her face in his neck, “I don’t know…”

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

As the couple somberly walk back up to the attic, they see George-Michael talking to Lindsey.

“Well since Mom died, it’s been kind of lonely and I just wish we could all stay here,” George-Michael confesses. 

Michael and (Y/N) stop, listening to him. Michael looks at (Y/N) , now understanding more clearly where she was coming from. It was different to hear his own son say these things. 

“I-uh need help with the van please,” Michael says

“Ok,” George-Michael says timidly. He looks at Lindsey and embraces her, looking like he didn’t want to let go.

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

After Michael had spoken to Lindsey, clearing some of their problems out and a nice evening just hanging out and playing monopoly with the whole family. officially deciding and announcing that they would be staying and that he would help the family, night finally fell.

Michael and (Y/N) had gone out to the pier to talk, they would have just gone on the front porch but something about being in the middle of nowhere, outside, at night, is not exactly the most comfortable setting for a tough conversation.

They were sat on a bench, looking at the gleam of the moon over the waves of the Californian water.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” He breaks the silence, turning towards you. 

“Me neither,” You confess, “This past year and a half away from you two has been tough. I can’t imagine it all just ending.”

“Give me a year,” he says.

She looks at him, confused, “What?”

“Just give me a year to fix this mess. George-Michael will be able to get closer to the family, we’ll be on good terms when we leave for Miami, or wherever we go. Let’s give him this chance to get to know them, especially during this hard time. Give me a year to try to get the family company out of this, try to get my Dad out of prison, get everyone settled,” he says, his eyes pleading her.

“I know this isn’t what we talked about, but move back to California, give me one year to fix this. Yes, we won't be as well off, I probably won’t earn anything while trying to deal with this mess, if you get your last job back, you’ll get a pay cut but please, just one year. After that, I swear, I’ll do or go wherever you want, we’ll be together no matter what happens.”

She felt her heart flutter, this dedication to his family was one of the things that sparked her interest in him. She didn’t care about how well off they would be, about any of that stuff, but seeing him trying to help them, even after all they’ve done to him really spoke to her. He 

was trying to have everyone’s best interest in mind.

“Ok, one year” she nods.

Michael smiled, gently grabbed her face and kissed her.

She pulls back, breathless, “But.. one condition”

“Yes, whatever,” 

“That I help you. You can’t do this alone Michael. I’ll help you in the evenings, I’ll go in with you to the office on my days off, lunch breaks, wherever. I’ll help manage finances, project management, even talk to investors, whatever you need help with, I’ll help.” She smiles.

He sighs in relief, “I love you so much,” He hugs her, face in her shoulder. He couldn’t believe this was happening but he was glad he wouldn’t have to go through it alone.

“I love you too,” She breathes. They stay in each other's embrace, under the stars and shine of the moon for some time. 

“We are NOT living in the attic though, that’s just crazy, I can’t believe you had that boy up there as if yall were Anne Frank, jesus christ”

“No yeah you’re right, it’s main house for everyone this year.” 

[jayflrt]

(splitting my asks into different parts cuz it got longer than I thought) okay today’s update ! god bless your messed up sleeping schedule (not really pls fix it 🙏) i woke up to your update. I would call it a very good morning,i really had something exciting to start my day !! Before anything. if i was yn i would hop on to Jay (it already happened but well again too) during the scene he made power source like that was so attractive. I would be on one knee asking him for my hand marriage. oh I LOVE MY MEN SMART (i want Jay). “I can’t kiss you but i can kiss your cheeks” AHHHHHHHHHHHHH A GENTLE MAN (in the context of him being hired to investigate her and her family). the small things omg ! SMALL THINGS as in yn helping Jay spill secret, Jay reassuring yn with pats on the back or just rubbing her back. AHHH THE SMALL THINGS BUT OH GOD. 😓 me when ????? OH I LOVE THEM I DONT WANT TO SEE THEM HATING EACH ITHER (even if it’s one side) The betrayal will make us cry sigh.

Jake you would love this i hope you’re adding this to yo ur fanfic ! honestly can we (i) get an update on Jake’s fanfic next update just wanna how far they are ? As in are jayn strangers ? or just started talking ? or they are friends ? can we talk about heeseung and jay ahhh my brothers in love ! look them cuddling and sharing sleeping space. wish that was you huh yn 🤣🤣🤣🤣☝️☝️☝️ I know you were wishing you were heeseung huh 😘. you wished big strong man (Jay) was cuddling with you to give you warmth in that cold night 🤣 Okay when you showed us the little snippet i knew it was chaewon who outted them. let me explain, so the hidden part was like three letters considering the space then I thought of people names we can short enough to be three letter, while thinking that I was like isn’t yn’s roommate chaewon. However I wasn’t expecting to be correct cuz I thought they had no bad blood lmao. now sunoo and rest of yn’s friends probably know it’s true….. I EXPECTED CHAEWON TO BE IDK NICE ? BUT WTF ?????

theory anon (i almost wrote 😓 yn ??????)

HELP MEEE the way the only reason i posted chapter 40 at 8 pm was because i finished it at 4 am the previous night and couldn't find the strength to format it 🧎‍♀️ but omg i've been sleeping so good recently it's about time for me to fuck up my sleep schedule again!!! 😋 (joke....Kind of) but i'm glad it was a good morning for you :'') and no seriously i would've made USE of those handcuffs but gotta respect them keeping it pg-13 🙏 jay is so green flag if we ignore all the parts about him withholding that he's actually getting close to her because he's been paid to ahaha 😁 and omgg i lovee writing the little bits of affection here and there it's just so wholesome 💗

LMFAOAO jake will update the fanfic eventually and he will definitely be like 30 chapters behind wherever jay/n are Actually at 😩 and mc is fr kicking and punching the air over heeseung getting more action with jay in that chapter than she did </3 but her time will come SOON!!! i too want Big Strong Man Jay to cuddle me in a sleeping bag <//3 HAHAH omg you manifested it 🙏 i used "her" instead of an actual name to make it less easy to figure out but it was fun seeing who people were guessing it would be LOL but thankfully it didnt seem to be a problem! For now 🫣 ALSO NOT YN ANON LMFAOO 😭

[spinachandhoney]

SnakeFace episode 12 script

OKAY, this is where the original script aligns with the rewrites, so there may still be a few inconsistencies I didn't catch, so I apologise for those. Keep in mind, I wrote these in 2020-2021, so my writing style is very different from how it is where I'm currently writing/revising (as of this moment where I am writing this draft, I am on episode 126 of the script, and episode 13 of the published comic)

[script under the cut]

[there are parts which were removed from the episode because I refused to cut it into two parts like episode 9, but I will leave those scenes in here for you to read despite them not being in the actual published version]

  Ivan was sitting in the den, alone again. Joey came down the stairs, his hair matted. He saw Ivan by the fire and sat next to him with a grunt.

  “Rough night?” He asked.

  Ivan nodded. “Mhm. How’d you sleep?”

  “Pretty good. It’s a nice house. A lot less noise than in the city.”

  “That’s true.” Ivan sighed. It was silent for a while.

  “You have a nightmare?”

  Ivan shrugged. “I don’t know. The storm woke me up a few times so I just decided to get up after a while.”

  “I used to get bad nightmares too, after my mom left. I… heard about your dad. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. There was nothing anyone could’ve done. I should’ve been more careful-”

  “Hey, don’t blame yourself, man. That kinda stuff’s out of anyone’s control. But, if you ever need to talk to anyone about it. I’m here.”

  Ivan nodded. “That’s alright. Thanks.”

  Kim joined the two shortly just as Ivan’s mom got up to make them breakfast. The three of them talked for a while, ate, and then left to finish getting ready. They hurried off to school on foot, arriving before anyone else.

  “How do you manage to get here so early every day?” Kim asked.

  “Just luck, I guess,” Joey shrugged.

  Soon enough, the teachers started arriving. When Val walked up to campus, however, he wasn’t alone. Beside the vampire was a tall, dark-skinned boy with a school letterman and a big bushy tail. Val appeared to be… laughing?

  “Val,” Kim ran up to him. “Who’s your friend?”

  “This is Hans,” the vampire introduced the taller boy as they approached Ivan and Joey. “I met him on my way home yesterday.”

  “You mean when you were lost in the city,” Hans joked. He was taller than Joey by a good few inches, standing around at least six feet. The taller boy looked at the green-haired boy for a second and cocked his head. “Rohellec?”

  “Hans?” Joey leaned forward.

  “Valentine, is this the friend you helped move yesterday?”

  “Yeah, why? You know him?”

  Hans chuckled. “Yeah, I know him-”

  “His sister’s dating Beverly,” Joey interrupted. “I used to go over to his place sometimes for dinner.”

  Val pouted. “Can’t a guy enjoy a new friend for two seconds? Is that too much to ask in this town?”

  “So, Hans,” Kim changed the subject. “If you don’t mind my asking, you’re a werewolf, yes?”

  “Rougarou, actually,” the wolf nodded. “Why do you ask?”

  “I just think it’s very intriguing that a vampire and a wolf are friends.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that-”

  “Of course not; I mean this with no ill intent. I find it rather inspiring. I mean, if you were to look at the five of us you wouldn’t think we would get along. A witch, a vampire, a lycan, a snake, and… whatever Joey is- Joey, what exactly are you?”

  “Oh,” Joey took his hat off and shook his hair out of his face, lifting his bangs. Beneath the thick green mess were four bright red eyes. “I’m a cat four.”

  “Wait, a category four?”

  “Yeah, I just said that. I’m not really big on talking about it though. Maybe later.” Joey dropped his hair and shoved his hat back on.

  “That is one heck of a combo,” Hans said. “Like a bunch of ragtag misfits.”

  The day passed by quickly, and nothing majorly interesting happened until study hall… again. When Ivan walked through the door, all the chairs had been rearranged and cramped. When Ivan looked toward the back of the room he noticed- Kim? What was Kim doing there? She beckoned Ivan over.

  “What’s going on?” Ivan asked.

  “Graves and Adders are doing a combined class project,” Kim whispered.

  Graves quickly hushed the classroom. There was no one standing beside him; where was Adders?

  “As most of you probably know by now,” Graves said. “Ms. Adders and I have decided to pair together for planning the end-of-the-year school party. To explain for some of you that are new this year, we like to celebrate finals season coming to a close with a giant dance. It’s like homecoming, but for spring state championships. This year, my class was chosen to plan the dance, however, being the second smallest study hall, Wilhelmina and I combined our classes.”

  Kim smiled at Ivan.

  “Adders will be joining us shortly, for any of you wondering. I’ll start without her for now. Keep in mind this is entirely for fun, but do not hesitate to give it your all. After all, this is the biggest pride of the school each year; decorations, music, games, and anything else you can think of should bring the most excitement to everyone on campus, not just the students.”

  “This gives me a chance to perfect some of the spells I’ve been working on,” Kim whispered to Ivan. The door clicked open as someone else entered the room. The class went so quiet that not even a whisper could be heard. A tall, dark, deer-like creature dressed in 90s grunge-type clothing walked through the door and stood next to Graves.

  “Don’t let me stop you,” she said. “You all act like you’re at a funeral, liven up.”

  “Glad you could join us, Mina.”

  “That’s Adders?” Ivan whispered.

  Kim nodded. “Told you she was kinda freaky.”

  “Now,” Adders clapped her hands together. “There are some tasks that will require you to work with a group, so choose whoever it is you work with best and Corvus and I will write it down on the list.”

[this bit was cut out]  “Ivan,” Graves caught the boy before sending him off for lunch. “I understand that we make this seem like a huge deal, but you don’t have to participate if you don’t want to. One good thing about having two smaller groups forming ironically the largest group of students this year is that there’s a little room for some slack. Plus, you and Kim came into the school so late in the year, you don’t even have to participate in the games. It’s only extra credit, so it’s no big deal.”

  Ivan shrugged. “Kim might be upset by it, but that’s kind of a relief for me; I’m not too big on sports or parties.”

  Graves smirked. “Neither was I back when I was in school, even though Adders and I were picked for party planning our sophomore year. You can still be there to pitch ideas with your friends if you want.”

  “Thanks.” [back to what I kept in]

  Ivan and Kim met up with Val, Joey, and Hans outside under the pavilion.

  “So, you guys were picked for party planning, eh?” Val asked.

  Ivan nodded. “Graves and Adders’ classes paired up this year.”

  “Dang, lucky. I’m stuck in the games with Lilli this year.”

  “Aw, seriously?” Joey grimaced. “I’m sorry, man. But, hey, at least you get to be in the games.”

  “Who’s Lilli?” Ivan asked

  “One of Val’s old friends from a few years ago-”

  “We aren’t friends anymore, though,” Val cut Joey off, glaring at the boy. Joey put his hands up defensively. Ivan was confused but dropped the thought.

  “So, Joey, Hans, you guys have study hall together?” Kim switched up the subject.

  Hans nodded. “It’s kinda how we got to know each other after our sisters started dating.”

  “That’s cool. So what are you guys doing after school? Joey’s coming home with us, but if we want to hang out it could give us a chance to get to know each other better.”

  “That’s a good idea. My mom’s closing up at the café tonight, if you want to come with?”

  Ivan lit up. “The café? That sounds great.”

  “I can let my parents know I’m staying after school with my friends,” Val said. “They usually don’t pay much attention where I go anyway.”

  “Both of my parents are working late at the clinic tonight, so we just have to let Ivan’s mom know there was a change in plans.”

  “Wait, you all live together?”

  “Yeah,” Joey snagged something from Val’s lunch, “it’s like becoming friends with college roommates you just met. You could put in a good word with the Yorks and see if we could get you in too.”

  “The Yorks? As in the third richest family in all of Barebinx?”

  “Right next to Val and me, yeah.”

  “Shit, man. I meet one guy and suddenly I’m friends with the second-generation aristocrats.”

  “And Ivan.” 

<ivan smiles>

  “Right. And Ivan.” <shock from Ivan> “So, you guys are Californian, right? What’s it like?”

  “You wouldn’t like it,” Ivan said. “A lot of entitled monster haters. It’s a pretty neutral state, but the majority of the population is against mutants. Other than that, it’s really sunny.”

  “Ivan’s from California, I just lived there for a few years,” Kim said.

  “Oh yeah? Where you from, then?”

  “A pretty secluded cliffside town in Maine. It’s like a magic hotspot out there.”

  “You guys all seem so cool, where the heck have I been all this time- under a rock?”

  That made the others laugh.

  “Alright, so meet out on the lawn after school?” Kim said.

  “Yeah, we can walk to the café, it’s not far.”

[originally, that scene was supposed to take place during lunch, but I changed it to after school for the sake of episode length. However, I will add the original ending of the episode here like I said above]

  The lunch bell rang. Kim and Ivan made their way to the gym, which, like the rest of the school, was insanely large; the field was practically like a stadium. There were some fairly peculiar students in the class, which was to be expected of this school. Still, it was hard for Ivan to get used to being around so many mutants. <put the goth unicorn in there for shits and giggles> Ivan didn’t recognize many of them from his other classes, but he didn’t pay much attention anyway <also the plant guy from his study hall>. Kim noticed some interesting faces as well <lillith, bugo, hattie>.

  It was near the end of the semester as it was, so the class was in high gear. They were just starting the basketball unit, which Ivan never considered himself to be good at. Kim, on the other hand, easily took to any new activity. She was one of the first picks when they were chosen for teams, and Ivan was typically one of the last. If she could help it, Kim picked Ivan to be on her team every time, no matter how annoyed it made the rest of her team.

  A strange, green-haired girl with large cat-like ears and black eyes from the other team kept staring at Ivan and Kim, whether it was out of curiosity or competitiveness. It started to make Ivan anxious. The girl was a natural when it came to speed, but tended to be a ball hog rather than passing it off to her teammates. Her team kept asking her what her deal was, but she never responded; she simply grinned widely with large, sharp teeth. She was very odd, whoever she was.

  The rest of the day passed by in a flash. Ivan and Joey talked through most of photography. The class was let outside to capture images of nature they found intriguing; Ivan mostly took pictures of mushrooms and an occasional raven.

  “You’re getting pretty good at that,” Joey said when looking through Ivan’s pictures.

  “My dad liked taking pictures,” Ivan said. “He taught me how to use a camera when I was pretty young. It makes it feel like there’s still that part of him with me.”

  When the bell rang, Ivan realized he’d left his homework in Graves’ room. The other four decided to tag along with him so he didn’t get distracted, which he likely would have. Val and Joey seemed a little uneasy.

  Ivan opened the door. “Uh, Graves? Can I come in?”

  “Sure, what do you need?” Graves was sitting on his desk, the mouse cage in his lap. Adders was standing beside him.

  “Oh, I left my homework in here.”

  “Is this it?” Graves held out a small stack of papers.

  “Yeah, thanks. You kept the mouse?”

  “I figured why not? Some of the faculty don’t like the idea of a wild mouse being housed in the building, but what do I care.”

  “I told him he should name it after a Roman soldier,” Adders said.

  “I still don’t know why you think that’s so funny.”

  “Because it’s a mouse!”

  “Well, I don’t want to keep you here. I might hold a class contest for whoever can come up with the most ironic name… I’ll see you tomorrow, Ivan.”

  “See you. Thanks.”

  The five left the room. Joey and Val seemed to be holding their breath, as they exhaled sharply once they left.

  “I have never seen Graves actually have a nice conversation with a student before,” Joey hissed. “What kind of magic sorcerer are you?”

  “Speak, Wiseman!” Val added.

  The group laughed as they left the campus.

  [ch 12 bonus comic]

  “Cute kids,” Adders said to Graves. “It’s a wonder you’re putting up with them. What’s different this year?”

  Graves glanced out the window as Ivan brought up the back of the group. Adders noticed.

  “It’s that snake boy, isn’t it?”

  “He reminds me of myself when we were in school.”

  “Awkward and reclusive?”

  “No- wait, hey. No. I meant- ah, never mind. I do worry for him, though. He’s no stranger to being picked on.”

  “I guess he is like you.”

  Graves scowled at Adders, who simply smiled. “I don’t know why I’m still friends with you.”

  “... Bartholomouse?”

  “Absolutely not.”

[it's a shame I wasn't able to have the whole episode in, but I'll try to fit those extra scenes I cut out in another episode later. If not, they're still here, just in spirit (and script)]