#i'm still old school i have no idea how the search thing works

[dduane]

From the Writing Advice dep't: A complicated ask, a serial answer (part 1)

Every now and then I get an ask in the box that's complex enough that it has to be taken apart and answered in pieces. Also, sometimes I get queries in that are painful enough (in varying ways) that I elect not to attribute them when answering. This one is both.

I read the ask (and reread it, and rereread it, four or five or six times after it came in, and a bunch more times while I was on my back this week being sick), and gradually came to realize that for it to be properly handled I had no choice but to break it into pieces for best management.

There are three main strands to the issues this ask brings up: motivation, growth as a writer, and coping with or succeeding despite the current state of the publishing industry.

So let's dig in. Here's the first part of the ask:

I know there's no One True Path, but I'm struggling with this, and I'm sure others are too, so I'll just ask it. I want to make a career out of writing, but with shrinking attention spans and so much content to mindlessly consume, how do you keep the motivation to write? My friends get mad at me for getting discouraged when not even they read my writing. They get mad and say, "write for yourself, not for the validation!"

Welp. (sigh)

First of all, I think your friends are absolutely right. But we'll come back to that.

You have to understand that as far as the Search for Motivation goes, I'm probably Spiders DD, the outlier who seriously should not have been counted. I have been motivated to write stuff pretty much nonstop since I was eight, and did my first novel in crayon in a school notebook. (It was one of the thick notebooks. The ones with the black and white marbled covers. Most of you who come of US schools know the kind.)

So I'm really the wrong person to be asking about this, especially since it's now nearly the Year of our (Wood!) Dragon 4722, which would make me nearly, uh, six Years of the Dragon old. And being of such age, and a career midlist genre writer, I have the same source of motivation as the vast majority of my similarly-aged colleagues: the need to write or starve. (There's an Irish saying perfectly descriptive of my situation: "Too old to dig ditches and too scared to rob banks." That's my situation exactly. There's nothing left for me to do but to write.) :)

...Anyway, it's kind of amazing how that kind of motivation'll focus your intention, and help you keep it in place, once you're been working with it for a while.

At the beginning of a career, though, things can look a lot different as you start getting a handle on exactly what it is you like to write and why you like writing it. And having another job to keep you afloat while you find your way is seriously a very good idea if you can manage it.

It sounds very much to me as if you're still in the early "finding your way" stages. This is a place that a lot of writers pass through, so don't be concerned. It's rare for sudden perfect motivation-to-write to crystallize out of nothing. And never forget, the word itself is based on old Latin roots for movement, and provokes the question, "Yeah, okay, but which way?" Movement without intended direction tends to turn into a lot of unfocused flailing, which looks good on Kermit, but not so much on the rest of us.

(inserting a cut here, because honestly, this is gonna go on a bit)

So you need to sit down and start asking questions—and answering them—so you can draw some kind of map. "I want to make a career out of writing"? Fine. What kind of writing? Fiction? Nonfiction? If fiction, what kind? What do you like to read? Why? Is that something you'd like to write? Why? Why not? If there's something else you'd rather be writing—what else? And why?

The more you ask the questions and answer them—"Keep asking the next question," Ted Sturgeon never used to stop saying—and the further along your investigations get, the more likely you are (as you get close to the answers that matter) to start getting the itch to write something, something in particular. This process may take a while, and the itch may take a good while to manifest. Don't be alarmed by that. The old saying is that the fire from Heaven won't descend until you've built the altar for it. And it may take a while piling the rocks up into the right shape. Don't hurry. If this is something you intend to spend a lifetime on, make sure the foundations are sound. The time taken will be worth it.

And BTW, do you intend that kind of length of commitment? If you're not sure, that's fine. But there's no one else to ask at this point who can give you meaningful answers. This is the time to get into it. Work out what "having a career in writing" looks like for you. Then start investigating to see whether your conception has any foundation in reality as a kind of lifestyle you actually have decent odds on achieving. (Again, I'm an outlier here. I'd been writing for pleasure for a long time before I had the good fortune to befriend an actual career writer, examine his habits [and those of other writers in the LA area] at close range, and realize that this line-of-work choice was actually something that could be successfully pulled off by mere mortals.) After investigation, this is a call that only you can make.

But anyway. Once you've started experiencing the kind of motivation that comes of increased certainty about what you want to do and why, you'll find you're way less concerned about sourcing or supporting it externally. It tends to fuel itself. (As once it does descend, the fire from Heaven is tenacious stuff: more Greek than otherwise.)

But also: trying to designate outsourced exterior stimulants for motivation is a bad idea. The reason's simple: one day you'll need them and they won't be there. Conditions will have changed, or the outside-of-you sources into the hands of which you've resigned your motivational agency may not be available for one reason or another, temporarily or permanently... and then where are you? The concept's a nonstarter. If your motivation's acting up, you need to be looking inward, not outward, for ways to kickstart it. This is one of the most personal parts of the writing process. You need to own it.

(And yeah, even career writers' motivation slips sometimes: annoying career things happen, cyclic lows cut in at a bad time, you name it. Most of us work out ways to jar the motivation back into correct operation when it acts up. But for such corrections to work you must first know what it's like to generate or mine yours yourself... and you're still working on that. The methods you find to generate motivation toward doing the Work will also assist you in diagnosing it when it goes south, and putting it right again.)

Also: (sighing) Please let your friends off the hook as regards reading your material, and feedback. Your motivation to write should not be dependent on their feedback, and it's not a good idea to try to make friends feel responsible for keeping you on the creative track. Chief among reasons for this: they may not feel themselves up to the task of giving you the writing support you're apparently asking them for—possibly because they simply don't feel competent to. (This is where we could get into how I had to stop @petermorwood from rewriting his third novel for the third time due to conflicting notes from friends... but let's leave that for later.) At best you're possibly making your friends deeply uncomfortable. At worst, the pressure may damage the friendships.

Tl:dr; our friends may love us dearly, but that doesn't make them competent editors. If you're online, so are many writers' groups who'll welcome a new member who needs advice. Wait till you've got more data and clarity on your motivational issues, and then start shopping around for assistance that seems friendly and trustworthy.

And finally (for the moment), about other people's attention spans:

It'd be good if you can start training yourself away from the habit of worrying about those. For one thing, there's absolutely nothing you can do about them. You might as well worry about the 11-year sunspot cycle. The attention-span issue is just one more distraction from things you should usefully be thinking about. But also: A lot of what we hear about that situation strikes me as fearmongering (as, IIRC, it was supposed to cause the downfall of western civilization around the time I started writing for Scooby-Doo).

If you look around, you'll see that loads of people are willing to spend HUGE amounts of their attention on stuff they love. (I mean, have you been on AO3 lately? And we're just talking about free stuff, there. Lots of other people will do the same for traditionally published work, given the chance and the money.) Your job is to get on with writing, start putting what you're doing out there where people will have a chance to fall in love with it, and then deal with the consequences.

More of this next time. (And please bear with me, as I'm still not up to best operating speed after the last week's illness. I'll get to everything else you sent me, I promise.)

HTH!

[rxmqnova]

Mommy's Natasha

Y/N: 6 years old Wanda and Nat: teachers Story: Wanda invites her girlfriend over… ——————————————————

Y/N'S POV I hate school! I always beg mommy to not let me go there, but she always does. I used to like school, but few weeks ago a group of boys from my class started making fun of me after discovering my mama is a teacher there. They even broke my crayons a few times.

I haven't told mommy about it. She has a lot of work and she'd be sad, so I'm keeping it for myself.

"There you are! Let's see what we have for lunch" Johnatan says, taking my bag away and searching through it.

"Give it back! It's mine!" I fight back, trying to get out of the strong hold of the other boys that are holding me. Honestly, I don't know what the entire class finds so funny about it. They always take my lunch and then I'm hungry the entire day. I don't exactly find that funny.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's going on here?" The most strict teacher on our school comes to the class… Miss Romanoff. She teaches older students Russian which is cool, but I already can speak that language… it's really similar to Sokovian.

"Nothing" The boys say, letting go of me. I quickly wipe my tears, knowing that if I didn't they'd do something horrible to me afterwards.

"Nothing?" She asks, raising her eyebrow. "It didn't really seem like nothing to me"

"She started it!" Johnatan points at me.

"Did she?" Miss Romanoff asks, bending a bit down to look into Johnatan's eyes.

"Y-Yes" Johnatan says, he's clearly scared of her. I'd be too if I was on his place, cause she seems to be on my side.

"I don't want to see that ever again. Understand?" She looks at him sternly and he only nods. "Good" She stands up again, turning her attention at me. "Y/N, can you come with me for a moment? And take your bag with you" She gives me a smile.

I have no idea how does she know my name, but I guess she knows my mom? I better take my bag and walk out of the classroom with her.

"Are you okay?" She asks me and I nod my head. "Sit here, sweetheart" She smiles, pointing at a chair in her office, so I do as said. I climb up and wait for her to speak. She sits on another chair opposite me. "Was this the first time they were being mean to you?" She asks and I shake my head no. "Did you tell your mom?" I shake my head again. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want mommy to be sad. She has a lot of work" I tell her honestly, looking down at my knees and trying to push back my tears.

"Детка, your mommy needs to know things like that. She might be a bit sad, but she's going to do everything to protect you" She smiles. "Will you promise me you'll tell her?" I better nod my head. I don't know why she's being kind to me, but it's a bit scary. "Okay. Now tell me what were they doing with your bag?" (baby)

"They took my lunch. It's probably in the trash by now" I answer with a sigh, still looking down.

"Anything else?" She asks and I shake my head no in response.

"Okay. Come on. Let's buy you new lunch then" She smiles and stretches her hand for me to hold. I give her a smile, hold her hand and we walk to our school cafeteria.

———————————

Mama and I just arrived home from school. I haven't told her anything yet since mommy's new girlfriend is coming over for dinner, but I will tell her tomorrow.

Mama gets into cooking and I get into building a fort, so I can play before she comes. All I know about that woman is that her name is Natasha and that she's nice. At least that's what mommy said, so I hope she'll be nice to me.

"Y/N, baby, clean up the fort please! Natasha should be here in 10 minutes!" Mama calls from the kitchen.

"Yes, mama!" I call back.

10 minutes? I can play for a few more and then clean up. Just 5 more minutes…

Doorbell

"Y/N, could you open the door please!" Mama calls. "Coming!" I call back.

That must be Natasha and I haven't cleaned up the fort yet. Mommy will be mad.

"Oh. Hey there" A familiar voice says.

"Miss Romanoff? Are you here to tell mommy? I haven't told her yet, because mommy's girlfriend Natasha is coming over for dinner" I quickly explain.

"No, honey. I'm not here to tell your mommy. But I think you should tell her as soon as possible" She smiles. "I'm here, because your mommy invited me over for dinner"

"You are mommy's Natasha?" I gasp, making her chuckle.

"I guess I'm mommy's Natasha. Yeah" She says with a smile.

She's completely different than at school. It's like someone changed her. But I like this version more.

"Y/N/N, is it Natasha? I hope the fort is gone like I asked you to?!" Mama calls.

"Yeah!" I call, knowing I have to clean it now otherwise she's going to be so angry with me.

"Someone hasn't cleaned up the fort, am I right?" Miss Romanoff says with a smile and raised eyebrows.

"Please don't tell mommy, miss Romanoff. I'll clean it right now" I tell her nicely. I really don't want to be in trouble.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll go to see your mommy and you can clean it up meanwhile" She smiles. "And you can call me Natasha. We're not at school"

"Okay. Thank you, Natasha" I smile. "Mommy is in the kitchen" I quickly do all the cleaning, take a 'thank you' picture I drew for miss Ro-Natasha earlier and head to the kitchen.

"There you are. Where have you been, honey?" Mama asks, lifting me up and sitting me onto her hip.

"Cleaning up a bit more" I whisper, playing with her hair.

"A bit more?" Mama chuckles. "Okay. Let's get into eating" She kisses my forehead and sits me on a chair.

"Wait. Can I speak with Natasha alone please?" I ask as I jump off the chair and take a hold of Natasha's hand.

"Mmmkay?" Mama says, giving me and Natasha a confused look. "I'm gonna check how well you cleaned up" With these words she goes away.

"Up, please?" I smile, lifting my arms for Natasha.

She lifts me up, sitting me onto her hip just like I asked her to. "I drew you a picture" I smile, showing her my drawing.

"Wow. That's really pretty. Thank you, sweetheart" She smiles. "How did I deserve that?"

"I wanted to thank you for buying me lunch and saving me from Johnatan" I thank her, playing with her long curly red hair.

"No problem, детка" She smiles. "If they're mean to you again, you can come to me, okay?" I nod with a smile. "But that doesn't mean you don't have to tell your mommy, okay?" (baby)

"I will tell her tomorrow, I promise" I promise her.

I rest my head on her shoulder. She's not the scary teacher anymore. She's mommy's Natasha.

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

Wanda Maximoff masterlist Masterlist

[boy-comics]

RENT-FREE

── .✦ pairing; ♭form!o.de x gn!reader

── .✦ summary; chance leads you to oh seungmin. something else leads to you stay.

── .✦ word count; ~4.7k

── .✦ tags; swearing, mentioned family issues, discussions of death, fluff, hurt/comfort, romantic tension, roommates to friends to lovers(??), seungmom™, takes place in the "real" world

── .✦ a/n; ahahaha (lying in a ditch)

After graduating, getting a job, moving out, and doing all the other things one needs to do to be considered a real adult, you realize something: pride, that bright, delicate thing that you've clung to all these years, means very, very little.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"It's just until I find another apartment. I won't even argue with him anymore, Mama—"

"Honey, I'm sorry, but you should know why I can't trust you to do that."

You stare at your phone screen, the call time climbing up ever slowly. Your mother continues talking, her voice tinny through the speaker, trying to soothe your irritation without giving in, but you can feel your thoughts growing pricklier and pricklier with each reasoning.

Just kick him out for a little while, you want to yell at her, don't you care about your own kid having a roof over their head? Why choose that deadbeat over me?

"So what am I supposed to do, then, Mama? My roommate's gone and I can't pay rent all on my own. I don't know what to do."

"I don't know either. I'll ask around and see if anyone can help you out. But this is adulthood, honey; things like this happen, and you just need to figure out what to do."

If you could afford it, you'd throw your phone against the wall.

"… I know. Thanks, Mama. Talk to you later."

"Make sure to eat, honey."

Pressing the end call button, you drop your phone on your bed and scream into your pillow.

—

What you end up doing, all by yourself, is break your lease early and shoulder the penalty fees. Then you pack up what little belongings you have and camp out at an old classmate's place (just until your next paycheck at the most, you had promised), and work and search for apartments and search for roommates and sleep and eat and work again.

Your mother calls just as you're looking up motel prices. You don't want to pick up, but again, pride means very, very little.

"Hi, Mama."

"Hi. Are you still looking for a place?"

"Yep."

"Okay, good. I was talking to Oh Seungmin's mother. You remember him, don't you? You went to the same high school. He was on the basketball team."

Your brow furrows. "Oh Seungmin?"

"So you do remember him."

"… Yes."

You're sure he doesn't remember you, though. Oh Seungmin had always belonged to a different crowd than yours, a really different crowd, even if you did walk to and from the same neighborhood together for a brief time. If your mother is suggesting what you think she's suggesting, you must be thinking wrong, somehow.

"He lives somewhere near where you work. His mother talked to him, and he's willing to let you stay with him until you find something more permanent."

You blink.

"Honey? What do you think?"

"I—uh." Your cursor continues to hover over the room price typed in bold on your laptop, and as you absorb what has just been offered, it drifts down to the corner of the screen. "How much would I need to pay?"

"Ah. I forgot to ask. She gave me his number to give to you just in case, though, so just ask him. It's—"

You type down the number and save it, praying to whatever lives upstairs that this isn't the beginning of some awful cosmic joke.

—

You move into Oh Seungmin's place on a late Sunday morning in May.

"Do you need help unpacking?"

"No, it's okay." You gesture vaguely at your suitcase, backpack, and laundry basket of bed things. "This is it."

Seungmin nods, his eyes flitting between the three things containing your entire life. There is a smile on his face, small and polite but awkward, like he's entertaining a surprise guest despite having expected you for the past three days. "Oh, okay. Cool."

You smile back, just as awkward. This Seungmin is slightly different from what you remember. High school Seungmin was more outgoing, a star athlete and the dream of every girl in your class. In this small apartment in the shadier part of the city, he seems more subdued, a little lonelier around the edges. Or maybe that's only because it's you.

He is still absurdly good-looking, though.

"I didn't know if you were okay with the couch or a futon mattress, so both are out. I have extra pillows if you need them … you don't have a closet, so we could buy a foldable one or something and put it in the corner if you want."

"I'm okay with the futon mattress. And it's fine—I'll just keep things in my suitcase. I won’t be in your hair for long, anyway."

"All right." His fingers tap an oddly controlled rhythm along the side of his thigh—not that you were already looking, you just catch the movement at the edge of your vision—and then he clears his throat. "Well, I'll let you get your stuff unpacked. I made some curry rice so we can eat afterwards. Hopefully you'll like it. I think you told me it was your favorite, once, a long time ago."

Some of the ice on your tongue melts.

"It still is."

His smile cracks open a bit wider, a bit more genuinely. "Really? Nice. I'll get everything set up, then."

"I'll be quick."

The living room and the kitchen are squeezed together with no divider, so you are graced with the ambiance of clinking ceramic bowls and silverware while you set your things out to organize them. The faint smell of curry and rice that you had detected when you had first stepped foot into this home intensifies with the sound of the microwave running.

Eating lunch with Oh Seungmin is a simple affair that grows more comfortable with time. You go over the house rules and contributions again, and it's funny, you find, the way the two of you agree on things so easily despite not having talked in years. Then again, it is only the first day.

"There is one thing, though," Seungmin says, taking your plate along with his to rinse them in the sink. "I have a synthesizer and record a lot of music for work. I'll keep my door closed, but if you're here and it bothers you, just tell me. I'll use headphones."

"Oh," you say, surprised. You don't remember Seungmin having a strong interest in music. A synthesizer. That's interesting. "Okay, I'll let you know." A thought hits you and you ask conversationally, "Do you use ♭form at all?"

You don't have an account yourself, having put it off time and time again. Conversation, that's all you had intended. But as soon as you mention ♭form, it's like the shutters close, and Seungmin's tone shifts from open and friendly into something strange and even guarded.

"Sometimes. Just the audience and solo modes, though."

He changes the subject after that. Of course, you still can't help but wonder for the rest of the day, especially when he disappears into his room for the rest of the afternoon, strange and beautiful music trickling out from underneath the door.

—

Seungmin tells you that it's been a while since he's had people stay over, but despite his modesty, you find him to be a wonderful roommate.

"Are you done using the glass cleaner?"

"Yeah, it's in here."

Heading to the bathroom, you spot Seungmin dutifully spraying the shower with cleaner and hold your breath, grabbing the glass cleaner from its place on the floor and stepping back out quickly.

"Did you find it?"

"Yeah, it was right there," you say.

He turns around to check, and you can't help but grin. Standing like that in the bathroom, he almost looks like a harried mom, old baggy shirt tucked into equally worn sweatpants, hair messy, a mask covering the lower half of his face and large yellow gloves covering his hands. When he raises his eyebrows, you snort.

"What?"

"You look like a mom."

"Finish your chores," he says sternly, even waggling his head, and you laugh again before leaving to wipe the windows.

Cleaning day is surprisingly mellow in your temporary home. Seungmin has the bathroom and his bedroom while you take the kitchen and living room, and you're both quite efficient. The initial awkwardness at the beginning has eased significantly over the past week, and if you were feeling optimistic, you'd say that the two of you are friendlier now than you were as students—even if he does spend a lot of time in his room.

"Hey, you wanna do something after this?" Seungmin calls out. You hear the shower turn on, followed by the sound of water splashing over the walls.

"Like what?"

"We could shoot some hoops."

"Ha-ha, that's funny."

"Well, now we have to go shoot some hoops." You make a face, and even though he can't see it, Seungmin tacks on, "I'll buy you garlic cheese bread after."

"How many?"

"One plus one more for each basket you make."

Well. That's an offer you can't refuse. "Deal."

"Okay. After I clean the toilet, I'm gonna shower and then we can head out."

You finish vacuuming and mopping the floors by the time he comes out of the bathroom, hair toweled to a curly dampness and no longer smelling like bleach. He looks like a young, fashionable man again, and you think that it might have been a little easier to talk to him when he was masked up and rubber-gloved.

"Ready?"

"I'll still get one free garlic cheese bread even if I miss all the shots, right?"

"Yes, but you can't be that bad at basketball."

"Try me."

There's a basketball court about ten minutes away from the apartment complex that Seungmin frequents. There's another one that's closer, newer, but upon passing by and asking about it, you're told that he avoids that court because it's too popular.

"Isn't it better to play with a group of people?" you question.

He shrugs, head turning away from you. "I just like to do my own thing when I'm here."

(It strikes you as a bit odd, but you keep that thought to yourself.)

"We're here." Seungmin dribbles the ball for a few seconds, then passes it to you. "You remember some stuff from gym class, don't you?"

"I mean, yeah, but that doesn't mean I can do it," you retort, passing the ball back. "Why don't you give an example and I copy it?"

Your companion turns and promptly shoots the basketball towards the hoop. It cuts a majestic arc through the air before falling through the hoop with a devastatingly clean swoosh.

You stare as he jogs down to fetch the ball, returning with a self-satisfied grin. "Okay, well, don't expect that kind of technique from me. I'm fine with my one bread."

"No, I'm going to make sure you get at least two. Here." Seungmin comes closer, plopping the basketball into your outstretched palms. "Just dribble it a little and pass it back and forth so you can get the feel for it."

You slowly bounce the ball on the concrete. It's haphazard, coming back up at different angles with no discernible rhythm, but you can actually keep it up for more than ten seconds. Clapping his hands, Seungmin shouts encouragement and gestures for you to pass it to him.

"What were you talking about? You're fine at this." The ball travels between the two of you several times before he points to the hoop. "Try to shoot."

Emboldened, you cradle the basketball in your dominant hand and stare up at the hoop. Aiming at the backboard, you launch it with a quiet grunt.

The ball hits the rim and shoots off to the side.

"... That's okay, that's okay! Try again."

You feel like the kid winning a pity prize at school. It really shouldn't be a big deal, with you being a whole-ass adult and all, but you can't prevent the frustration that roils up anyway as Seungmin tosses the ball back to you.

"I'm just going to miss."

"You won't know unless you try, right?"

When you roll your eyes at his sage-like wisdom, he sighs, circling around to stand behind you.

His arms come around to adjust yours into the right position, and you nearly choke on your own spit.

"Keep your shooting arm close." He taps the inside of your foot with the toe of his shoe. "Feet shoulder width apart, knees bent, 'cause the power comes from your legs. Your other hand is just there to guide. And follow through."

His voice is soft against your ear. You swallow dryly, only daring to breathe again when he steps away.

Oh, no.

"That easy, huh?" you croak, bending your knees.

"If you want it to be."

You shoot the ball. It soars upward—downward—hits the backboard, rolls along the orange rim and falls through the net.

You and Seungmin stare for a moment. Then Seungmin nudges you with his elbow and holds out his fist.

"Yo, yo, yo! Good job, [Y/n]-ssi!"

Your eyes roll again as you bump fists with him, but it's bashful this time, and you hate how exposed it makes you feel. "You're a literal mom and dad rolled into one."

"Does that make you my offspring?"

"Sure would beat being the offspring of my actual parents." You wince as soon as the joke leaves your mouth.

"Oh."

Seungmin blinks, and laughs a bit, but it's so obviously unsure that everything that's been going so right today veers into complete fuckup territory.

You dig your hands into your pockets and scuff your shoes. "... Sorry. Shitty joke."

"Ah, it's fine ..."

And yet, neither of you say anything more.

Shit.

While you rub your arms, hobbling towards the basketball rolling steadily towards the grass, you hear Seungmin follow. The scrape of his shoes against the asphalt peters out as you pick up the ball, and when you turn around, he's regarding you carefully. You find an interest in the words stamped onto the basketball.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.

"Not really." You spin the ball in your hands. "I mean, it's not like you never knew, and nothing's really changed, and that's why I'm here in the first place. So."

Seungmin nods slightly and hums, scratching his nose.

"I didn't mean to kill the mood."

"No," he says immediately, "don't worry about anything like that. You're good company."

You look at Seungmin. He stares back, and for a brief moment, you remember a boy with the same dark eyes, under a similar sky, sitting with you at the corner of a convenience store after school because you didn't want to go home.

"Oh. Okay."

"You wanna try for a third garlic cheese bread?"

"Nah, you kinda killed the vibe with all that mushy gushy stuff."

Seungmin hisses through his teeth when you punch his shoulder. "Damn."

"Only joking. Can we go now, though? I'm hungry."

"Yeah, sure."

—

In the brief interludes where neither of you have anywhere to be, you and Seungmin inevitably gravitate towards one another. That's what happens when people get along, you guess, though it's been so long that it surprises you when Seungmin actually joins you on the couch with a tub of popcorn.

"That for me?"

"That for us," he corrects as you press play on the laptop and settle back into the cushions. "Is the volume high enough?"

"Oh." You lean forward again. "Now it is."

Seungmin had been neutral at best towards pirating a horror movie from five years ago—he could take them or leave them, depending on the quality—but you had cited its several awards and didn't want to watch it alone, so here he was, ready to pass judgment on your choice.

"Don't scream too loudly," he gibes as the music drops to a low simmer, "or the neighbors will complain."

You scoff, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "I'm right here if you need a shoulder to cry on, Seungmin-ssi."

Thirty minutes into the movie, both of you swallow your words.

You'd taken it as a sign of good taste that multiple reviews had credited Come Into My Head as providing nightmare fuel for weeks, but now you realize that good taste may not be in your best interest. Not when you're shaking like a leaf next to your roommate, who is sitting stiffly, nearly stone-like.

When the killer jumps out, both of you let out a shriek that triggers angry thumping from above.

"Shitshitshit." Another jump scare slashes across the screen, and you leap out of your skin when Seungmin's hand clamps down on your arm. "SHIT."

"Y-You're making my arm numb," you whisper, but you make no move to pry him off, eyes glued to the screen.

"Sorry—"

When the lead actor screams, you can't take it anymore and suffocate Seungmin's arm between your own, smashing your face into his shoulder with a pathetic whimper.

... Unfortunately, said shoulder ends up being so warm and muscular that you sober up from your fear-drunkeness long enough to be overcome with embarrassment.

"Uh." Your action seems to have the same effect on Seungmin, whose grip immediately loosens.

"I'm sorry," you blather, starting to pull away. "I swear I'm not trying to—"

"It's fine," Seungmin interrupts. "I, uh, don't mind if you don't. I'm kind of terrified right now?"

"Me too."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

The corners of his lips quirk upward. If it weren't for the gory, red lighting of the movie illuminating his face, and if you weren't so sure of his opinion on you, you would think that Oh Seungmin was blushing.

Yeah. You lean back until you're pressed against Seungmin once more, arms wrapped around his and shoulder pressing shoulder. His right hand reaches around to squeeze yours with every on-screen death and you can feel each joint of each finger over your own. I'm terrified.

—

It takes two whole weeks before shit hits the fan.

It had been an unexpectedly warm day, so you had decided to impulse buy some ice cream bars on the way back from work. Seungmin would appreciate it, being cooped up in the apartment with his synthesizer. You haven't been able to catch him outside his room for the past day. Maybe you could hang out and talk in the kitchen while you polished off one or two ice cream bars.

Sticking the box of chocolate-coated vanilla in the freezer, you quietly walk over to Seungmin's bedroom and examine the doorknob. There's no Do Not Disturb sign hanging from it, and it's not locked, which you take as the go-ahead to knock.

"Seungmin-ssi, I got ice cream."

You wait. No reply.

Frowning, you press your ear against the door, wondering if he's working on some music, but you don't hear anything. Of course, he could be using headphones for some reason.

"Hello?" You knock and then call for him once more, making sure to be loud. "Hey, I'm coming in."

With that, you enter his room.

Nothing seems out of place. That is, until you see Seungmin hunched over on the edge of his bed, hands trembling and forehead drenched with sweat.

"Seungmin!"

Stumbling over your feet to rush over, you grab ahold of his shoulders and shake him. Seungmin jolts and shivers, then looks up with wide, glazed eyes, and it frightens you so badly you reach up to grab his face. It feels cold.

"Hey. Hey! What happened?!"

He stares up at you, completely vacant, and then he finally blinks. It seems to trigger something because he starts gasping for breath, clutching your wrists as he registers your presence.

"What happened?" you repeat, voice cracking from the volume.

He winces. "I dunno," he rasps, wetting his lips. "I think we ... I think we broke the system?"

The use of we raises a flag in your mind, but considering the present circumstances, you put that aside for now. For all you know, his brain could be fried like an egg and churning out nonsense. "Broke what system?"

He looks down.

You follow his gaze. There is a pair of strange glasses on the floor by his feet. Hesitantly, as if you might get burned, you pick them up.

Upon inspection, you notice '♭form' faintly etched into the frames. There's a button on top of the left hinge, but nothing happens when you press it. Frowning, you press it again, only to curse when something neon red fizzles briefly across the lenses. Then it’s dead once more.

"Oh," you murmur dumbly. You look at him again.

Seungmin's lips press together, eyes still fixed on the glasses, and he swallows. His gaze then moves to you and the emptiness of it slowly ebbs away.

He is silent, despondent, and he takes a moment before he tells you something so sincerely it stuns you.

"That was the only place where I mattered."

And, truthfully, it feels like he's slapped you across the face.

You gape at him, throat suddenly tight, and when he continues to sit without another word, you shut your mouth so violently your jaw tingles.

The strange behavior makes sense now. The brief periods of dullness after leaving his room, the rare but suspicious checking out from conversations, the obsession with music. You had overlooked these things because the moments between them had been some of the best you’ve ever had. They had mattered to you.

Apparently, he had never felt the same way.

"You don't think you matter here?" you say, numb. Your grip tightens around the glasses. "What was the fucking point of all this, then?"

His brow furrows. "… What do you mean?"

It feels like prying open the shell of a living creature, exposing everything that's meant to be kept safely hidden away. You do not know why the living creature is you and not Seungmin. You don't know why Seungmin makes it so damn easy to spill your guts, revealing the self-centered and bitter parts of you that drive everyone else away.

"Do I not matter either?" you ask.

The sound of your own voice, angry and trembling, immediately disgusts you. You bite your tongue and turn away.

"What? Hey, that's not—"

"Nevermind. Forget it."

As you head straight for the door, you have this grand idea in your head that you're going to storm out of the apartment, spend a few hours blowing off some steam, and then return to pack up your stuff and stop adding to Seungmin's misery. But that would require you to be faster than Seungmin, and for his apartment to be large enough to create enough distance between you and him.

Reality unfolds as such: you getting one foot across the doorway, Seungmin grabbing your wrist, and you stopping far too quickly.

"That's not what I meant at all. I'm sorry, I'm just—just let me explain."

"I'm a little too pissed off to listen nicely, Seungmin-ssi."

"That's fine. As long as you believe me." When you look back at him, he squeezes your wrist. "Please stay."

He's pleading. His hand is clammy. And because your pride means so little, and because you have become so horribly attached—you stay.

You let him lead you back into his room to sit on his bed. You stay, and you listen as he starts from the very beginning.

By the time he's done, having explained the train, the fighting, the surreal time loop his band had just broken after what had seemed like days, you are just about ready to break down.

"So you're telling me that you've been wanted by ♭form for the past year?" you say, throat dry, and Seungmin nods. "What would've happened to you here if you died in there?"

"I don't know. All I know is that the pain sticks after I log off."

The pain sticks. Good god. You lean over and hold your head in your hands, feeling nauseous. "Seungmin-ssi, that's not okay. What the fuck."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I didn't think you would be this upset if you found out."

"Of course I would? I live with you? Do you know how traumatizing it would be to come back from work and find out you're brain dead? Like, fuck," you laugh, feeling your lungs constrict, "oh, my god, what if I lost you?"

Seungmin is quiet. Then he says, almost whispering, "Lost me?"

The disbelief in his echo causes you to close your eyes. Everything is coming out now. You can feel them bubbling over, crawling out from between your ribs, thoughts and confessions that you have stuffed down for fear that they would be ridiculed.

He utters your name, the end of it curling upward in bewilderment.

"Seungmin-ssi." You take a deep breath. "You're kind, and caring, and the first person in actual years who I felt actually gave a shit about me. If something happened to you, I ... part of me would probably die too, I think."

It's too hot in his room. Your vision goes blurry, and you feel your nose start to burn. You sniffle. Hands falling into your lap, you dig your nails into the fabric of your uniform pants. You're sweaty and teary and miserably cracked open, and it's hot, and all you can do is sit and wait for his response.

Beside you, Seungmin shifts in place.

Then two arms wrap around you, warmth upon warmth, a cheek resting against the side of your head as he holds you.

"I didn't know you felt that way about me," he breathes. "I'm sorry for being so reckless with myself. I was ... I was wrong."

Your tears start to fall onto his shoulder. "Don't leave me."

"I won't. I'm here." His hand ghosts up and down your back, the barest of tremors in his fingers. "You matter to me, too. So, so much."

Oh. A sob escapes your lips.

You're so selfish. Selfish for having him comfort you after what he went through in ♭form, selfish for dirtying his shoulder with your tears, selfish for feeling this way about him after so little time.

Selfish for wanting to stay.

You tighten your grip on the back of his shirt. Seungmin hums. He pulls away just slightly to look at your face, and you almost tear up again when he wipes the wetness from your cheeks with his thumbs, his eyes glossier than normal.

"I'm sorry," you croak as he does so, reaching up to touch the dark circles under his eyes. "I didn't even check if you were okay. Are you okay?"

He chuckles a bit wetly, hugging you again. "I'm better now. Thanks for asking."

"Do you need water?"

"I'll get some in a few minutes. Don't worry."

"It's hot. I came in to ask if you wanted ice cream. I bought a box from the store."

"Oh, you did?"

Neither of you move, bodies pressed close, intertwined. You are buried in his scent.

"We can have them now," you offer, with effort, "if you want."

"Is that what you want?"

You bite your lower lip. "... If it makes you feel better."

His mouth presses against your temple. Against it, he admits, "It is hot. But ..."

He does not finish that sentence. But you understand, and something blooms, trembling, in your chest.

"Maybe later," you finish drowsily.

Leaning into him further, you hear his soft agreement, his hands stroking down your arms with a surety that had not been present before. He keeps you here, with him, real and breathing, living.

You are not alone. And neither is he.

Thank you for accepting me. Thank you for loving my prideless self. I'm glad we exist here, in this world, together.

[tocomplainfriend]

Funny thing (not really) I’ve noticed is that Viv has always fetishized m/m relationships. There’s obviously Stolitz, but it goes back way further. There’s Addison from Zoophobia being shipped with a guy who works at his high school, but to mention that Viv has drawn NSFW of them despite Addison canonically being a minor. There’s also Autumn and Rusty, the former whom gets bullied by Rusty cause Rusty is secretly in the closet. Ten years later and she’s still weird about m/m relationships.

TW: fetishizing Queerness

I tried to search a little for Addison's age. In the wiki, that I know Viv did not write it says he is 18, other post say 17- there are people saying the age got changed too? I know almost nothing to zoophobia- if anyone knows about this claim, share your knowledge and importantly evidence of the age thing in specific? I do know about those snake drawings. And also was Viv 19? Have no clue-so I'm not gonna super talk about it without knowledge.

About the Rusty thing, I don't think Viv is a good enough writer (of relationships especially, cause Stolitz mainly) to pull that relationship or story. I don't think she can pull the idea of the closeted bully, purely by the fact that she doesn't understand or acknowledge the problems Stolitz has. If she needs to put down characters to make Stolas seems better and try to justify the power imbalance. I don't think she could write this if she wanted to. This closeted gay bully is such an old trope, too. I think the worst you can do (also as a non-amazing writer) is actually tried to make a romance out of it? Cause a lot of these tropes are more like "HAHA THE BULLY IS GAY HAHAHA", rather than "aww the bully was just sad and gay all along". I don't like it. (also this includes when the bully doesn't bully his romantic interest)

A lot of problems in mlm stuff Vivziepop does is similar to those Yaoi fetishization shit. Where there are also power imbalance. Also, this treatment of the characters like Moxxie? Like he is bi, and with Millie- and his treatment is so shitty. The hole thing of MILLIE PEGS MOXXIE, and that funny cause is less manly of him? Or where the succubus sexually assault them and that is funny??? (that one is not even Blitz being an asshole to him, it's made to act funny). As soon there is something viewed as feminine from him, the show makes fun of him. His feminine appearance in Unhappy campers also leads to make fun of him. Where he is the most vulnerable and insecure is that episode. He is more objectified in a feminine appearance.

Just the entirety of Stolitz is literally a lot of yaoi-sh problems. Also, I do see a lot of red flags in how they wrote Fizz and Asmo'. Because Fizz was insecure af, that he needed the approval of Mammon as an imp. Mammon was using the power that he had over Fizz to use him to get money. He got his approval from Asmo another sin in a higher position of power. (The power imbalance is not the problem vibes). Plus, The Big dominant protector and the sub small uwu cure relationship. Fizz, compared to the first time he appeared, he is so vulnerable and acts so cutesy. Like, the confidence he had during the S1, disappeared so bad. Acting so nice to Glitz and Glam, felt like cutting out all attitude to "uke-fing" him into needing a savior. They make him so powerless

Fizz, a quad amputee, was put in a vulnerable situation related to his trauma and where he lost all his limbs and horns. All to make Blitz "redeem" himself and make them friends again... THAT SUCKS.

Also, there was the fact of how over-sexual all the male mlm characters are, too. Like, Chaz was so much more sexual than Verosika as a succubus.

IT JUST SUCKS.

[csuitebitches]

I really enjoy your blog and was wondering if you have advice on one of my biggest mental blocks. I'm 23 but struggle to feel like an adult and being independent deeply scares me even through I want to be "chasing my dreams". I've lived with my close knit family my whole life and still spend a lot of time with my parents. I'm almost going to move away(in the next year) and so I've began the process of getting a car/saving money, etc. But then I find myself subtly sabotaging these efforts because the idea of being alone/moving away also terrifies me. I really want to experience moving to a city and working and traveling and doing things I want and at this point I'm finding it draining being my parents "stay-at-home-daughter". But I also get anxiously sick when I try a push myself for more independence. I've put so much on hold going through school and then living in my home town w. parents and it's kind of scary to imagine dating (never prioritized men + parents didn't let me date in highschool= never had a bf or anything) or living alone even though I'd love to have the experience. Any advice would be greatly appreciated. Basically I still feel like a 15 year old when it comes to my personal life and that feels a bit shameful.

I want to tell you that we all feel what you feel. You’ll only ever feel like an adult when you’ve exposed yourself to the outside world, regardless of whether you can handle it or not.

independence scares you because it’s unfamiliar territory. Often when we look at people who are independent and on their own two feet, they seem to have a sense of self identity, purpose and responsibilities to handle.

I’m always in favour of people moving out of their parents homes for a couple of years at least (the culture where I come from also emphasises on the whole family living together and there’s no move out at the age of 18 concept) because I see the pros and cons of both situations of living in/ out of your parents home.

No book, YouTube video, friends’ experiences will teach you about being an adult. You have to step out and experience it yourself.

Start doing exposure therapy. Basically, slowly, bit by bit, immerse yourself into the traditional adult experiences.

I’ll give you examples. Understand fully how your insurance works. Keep all your medical records in both a physical and a digital file.

Understand how your car functions as a product - which means guarantees, warranties, insurance, emergency numbers, mechanics nearby, etc.

Start tracking all your spending expenses, even if you’re using your parents money at the moment. The earlier you start this habit, the better. Create a monthly budget for yourself and stick to it.

Start doing your own laundry in the house and learn that not all clothes go in the washing machine, some go for dry cleaning etc.

Make it a goal to learn to cook at least 5 dishes properly before you leave. If your parents are good cooks, ask them to teach you or go to every introvert’s favourite site, YouTube.

Pretend that your room is a mini apartment and try to keep it clean at all times.

Start socialising more. Not just with known friends. Sign up for a random hobby class like a book club or a running club where you can meet more people. Yes it’ll be difficult, yes you’ll have moments of awkwardness but don’t give up after just one meeting - go and meet new people to get used to the idea of interacting with strangers.

You can’t rush into feeling like an adult. It takes time. Exposure therapy is the best way to get into it. The more responsibility you can healthily shoulder, even if you fail at times, you’ll still start feeling more confident.

We weren’t born with the knowledge of car tire changing mechanics, insurance, cooking or tidying up. We had to learn them as we grew up. It’s perfectly alright to not know how to do something. The beauty of living in today’s world is that the answer to nearly every question is one google search away.

[jojo-schmo]

Now I'm curious: what did your first Kirbysona look like? It's hard to imagine you not being the bubble witch!

Once upon a time… I made my very first Kirbysona in 2010! I was in middle school hehe. I was still keeping to myself in the fandom (definitely a good thing since I was so young), so I could only think of Kirby’s species as an option for myself! I loved the Beam jester hat, and I had just played Crystal Shards for the first time so I used them to tip the ends of my hat! :P Then I just straight up gave myself the Star Rod to carry around simply because I liked it! Tying a ribbon around it means it’s mine now haha. I think I had light powers or something like that.

I couldn’t find any colored pictures of her from my childhood in my short search- so this is what I think I remember her colors as. (Colors have always been a little hard for me in art. When I visualize things in my head they look more like black and white storyboards so I rarely colored my art at the time.) if I do find an old colored drawing I’ll show it hehe.

It’s nice to look back at this. This was before I learned about how people online made fun of “Mary Sues” or “cringe oc’s. (A trend that I’m happy has quieted down in recent years.) Before a time I felt too afraid to share my ideas and art in fear they weren’t “special or original enough.” This was just a pure expression of how I imagined I’d live in the Kirby universe, and how much fun I might have with my favorite characters….

I stopped drawing this little puffball shortly after starting high school. But I still thought about her sometimes.

Fast forward to 2023. I wanted a sona to represent myself once I realized my art had a small following on here. But I wanted take the design beyond a puffball, and maybe create a sona that actually looked a bit more like me while still existing in the Kirby universe. It’s not super obvious but when I was designing my Bubble Witch form I thought it would be nice to carry over a few small elements from my original childhood Kirbysona. Just as a small homage to the child I used to be. And in a way, she’s still part of me.

I can’t physically hug the little girl who made that Kirbysona… But I can definitely keep doing my best to take care of myself and create work that she might’ve liked.

[hibischush]

Idk if we’ll ever get canon ages of the bachelors and bachelorettes for FoM. But do you have exactly any headcanon or idea of how old they are?

You know I was just thinking about this! I have a few ideas but still unsure so feel free to put your input in the tags 🌺

Bachelors

Balor 🪙

26 or 27

He's a merchant that has built a reputation around the town and outside of it, he needs a few years to do that

Especially considering he was a ""former rouge,"" he'd either have to spend a few years to regain trust or change his identity lol

He looks young but acts older if you know what I mean? Idk I guess has a lot of experience

March ⚒️

I'm giving the pretty confident answer that he is 22

He acts like an angsty teen so he's younger but definitely not over 25

For historical accuracies, a quick search claims that blacksmith apprentices would start around age 13 or 14 and would last from 4-8 years (this is from a quick google search so the source is....trust me man...)

I think he would have started at 14 and the apprenticeship would last at least 6 years (he's an "award-winning" blacksmith so I would assume that the two years after he graduated he would build up his fame)

Hayden 🐔

Anywhere from 35-42

I feel like 30 is too young for Hayden but's that just me

He could be a younger silver fox you never know

For maximum DILF points he has to be 35≤

I think a happy little median would be 38

Ryis 🌲

I like to think he's 23 but 22-25 also works

He definitely looks young but I don't think he's at his mid twenties just yet

Eiland 📜

23

It makes sense to me, he still looks young and has some youthful outlooks on life or on his dreams

and that's not a bad thing!

If he ended up getting education as a historian/archaeologist then it puts him at the end of his education

But his age depends on Adeline's since I'm not sure if he is the older or younger sibling (or if they are twins)

If they are twins they both would be 24 but if he is younger then I would keep him at 23

Bachelorettes

Celine 🌼

I know that a lot of people would hc her as younger (like 21) and like

her looks fit the bill

but I think she has a baby face and I think she'd be 24

Juniper ♨️

Juniper gives the "fun wine aunt" vibes

So I think her age range is 28-30

Reina 🍳

I think that Reina would be the youngest out of all of the bachelorettes

I think she'd be 21

I don't have a great reason other than she just seems lost in a way

Like doesn't know what she wants her "niche" to be

She likes cooking and that's great! I think she'd make an excellent chef

But as long as she stays a part-timer at her parents inn she just reminds me of a dove that hasn't left the nest quite yet

Valen 🩺

38-42

Medical school and residency explains most of this

She just gives a very mature vibe so I think she'd be on the older end

However, I think she would be older than Hayden so if Hayden is 38, she'd be at least 40

Adeline 🌷

25

She gives older sister vibes and with how stressed out she is that just solidifies my opinion that she is older

She's getting to the age where she's figuring most things out but some things still escape her y'know

Some things are learned with age (like learning how to relax)

Bonus: if Caldarus does end up becoming a romanceable then (they?) would be the oldest by a long shot. Easily 1,000+

Some of the romanceables look/act super young, but since you can get married the automatic age minimum is 18. But honestly even that is pretty young to get married (at least in the modern day)?? I want to hear the rest of the communities thoughts too.

[mollywobbles867]

I am writing this on my laptop so you know I'm srs

So, I am going to out myself as a former hardcore real people shipper. OGs remember. @ginasaurrr, @gleefullysupernaturalpop, @risti7, @wholove

It was 2009 and my dad had died two years prior. I was a fucking mess. I was a teacher when he died, two months into my first teaching job (that I started a month into the school year so I was fighting for my life when it came to lesson plans). I went back for two weeks after he died, but I was experiencing heavy suicide ideation and was fighting tears through every class. (Note to alert bots, I am okay now after a lot of therapy and medication). I was of no use to those kids and I am so sorry that they had such a shitty teacher that year. My principal was extremely unsupportive, so I went to my union rep and got out of my contract post haste. I started having panic attacks on the regular (figured out much later that I have PMDD so that's why it came in two week cycles).

Anyway, I was unemployed, living with my mom, and extremely lost. Then one night in 2009 my sis was over and insisted on watching American Idol because she was obsessed with Adam Lambert. I loved his voice so I started watching every week and grew to love a few of the other contestants too. I paid attention to the American Idol posts on ONTD on LJ. There were soon posts shipping Adam and Kris Allen, even though Kris was married to a woman.

ONTD got annoyed with all the posts, so someone started ontd_ai where we posted to our heart's content, a good many of them about shipping the two singers. We broke the fourth wall way too much for sure. (#gokeyisadouche). I have actually blocked out a lot of the details, but one thing I remember is that soon there was an AIM chat (yeah I'm old) dedicated to talking about our ship. And unfortunately, we also talked about Kris's wife's mental health struggles. No idea how we ever even knew about them. While I expressed empathy for her in the chat as did most of us, someone took screenshots and said we were bashing her. It blew up and made it to fandomwank. At some point we started our own LJ community too. We put tinhats on our profile pics, etc. We were tinhatters instead of delulus. I wrote Kradam rpf as well as flashfic for other fandom ships. Astolat herself wrote Kradam fic! (shout out to the cowboy fic, that hurt my feelings).

All this is to say that I know how you can get obsessed with solving some sort of story you have invented, looking for clues in song lyrics, performances, interviews, etc... and ignore reality. Really what you're searching for is answers for your own life.

Through post after post saying how it would be totally okay for Kris to come out as bi, I finally came out to myself, then my bff, then my sis, then my mom and nephews, and now whenever I feel safe with someone and online strangers.

After a year I applied to grad school and got my life back on track; went back to therapy, got on meds, found other hobbies, made new friends, eventually started working again even if it was just retail.

What are you searching for?

What are you struggling with?

What about Luke and Nicola's interactions or as individuals draws you to the ship? Are you projecting your own insecurities and identity struggle onto her? Are you projecting someone who hurt you onto Luke? I promise that Nicola is not crying herself to sleep every night because she's not with Luke or because he's with a thin woman. Luke is not a fuckboy or disingenuous just because he's with a thin woman.

I encourage you to take a step back and self-reflect because you are the ones who are doing the hurting.

P.S. We tinhatters were always publicly nice to Kris's wife on his and SM pages and when we met him after concerts and she was there. Why? Because she's a person too and I honestly hope they are the happiest they have ever been. Kris still makes (great) albums and they have kids (two unless they had another and I didn't know). Adam has been touring with Queen and I have no clue about his love life. It's nice.

However, I do think our fourth wall breaking made it so they stopped being public with their friendship. Just sayin'.

Look at the beauty we deprived the world and weep.

[juniperhillpatient]

thank you SO much @missjessefantastico for the tag <3 ALSO EVERYONE READ THIS SERIES ABOUT VAMP WILLOW, THE UNDERRATED HYENA KIDS, & MORE!!! It's so good btvs fans who love underexplored ideas & characters pspspsps

20 Questions For Fic Writers

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 19

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 3,027,073

3. What fandoms do you write for? It's been Avatar the Last Airbender for the past few years. I have an old & probably not-good Rick & Morty fic up. Before that, I had some IT fics. I've got an orphaned fic for scream & one for house of 1000 corpses.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

the benefits of getting a flat tire this is Zuko running away from home & running right into the gaang - also uncovering some family mysteries & reconciling with Azula. modern au. it's Zukka & aw I'm nostalgic for those early days of mine in the fandom

if this were a movie this is basically an ATLA Hollywood Au. Zukka & Azutara. Past Jetko. I was happy with some of the dramatic moments in this fic.

not another high school au lord help me lmao. I'm SO sorry if you are reading this & you happen to love this fic but it's not the thing I'm most proud of. this is basically just me dipping my toes into writing ATLA modern AUs & in that sense I guess it's nostalgic? this is the fic I wrote as a newbie to the fandom just trying it out & I still do lovingly appreciate everyone who was kind & welcoming in those early days!

six feet under ATLA TVD AU MY BELOVED OMG. this is a vampire diaries au. there are no 1:1 translations but azula is damon, katara is a mix of jeremy & elena & so is sokka, zuko is stefan & YEAH. also aang is bonnie & iirc I probably even gave toph something fun to do. ozai is Katherine which is forever hilarious to me. yeah, this was a fun fic.

5. in search of glorious happenings of happenstance this fic is about nothing & everything at the same time. atla/modern world fusion with the four nations existing but also it's modern. all the atla teens/kids are going to college at ember island university & the fic takes place across a year. it's slice of life, comedy, drama, & chaos. lots of ships but I think azutara & jet/zuko/jin are probably, at the end of the day, the romances that are at the heart of this story although platonic relationships are also pretty important in this fic, IMO as much as romances. it's probably my magnum opus or something.

Do you respond to comments? yes <3 I am sometimes slow & I am not perfect but I TREASURE comments & do attempt to let people know as much. I write for myself, I post for the connections I make along the way.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? the devil you know for sure. this is my atla/scream modern au. I talk about it constantly because I'm so insanely proud of it but if you don't know it's exactly what it sounds like. it's horror & tragedy that I feel really proud of & I do think those elements are at the heart of my writing passion despite me usually being a bit nervous about using them. so. I'm proud of this fic. & it has a very bittersweet ending but the tragedy is...there's a lot of tragedy. no more spoilers because I want people to read this!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? most of my fics have decently happy endings despite me claiming to prefer tragedy lol. I seem to recall the things we leave behind (mailee youtuber au with jetko & auztara. & they were roommates!) having a tooth rottingly fluffy ending lol

8. Do you get hate on fics? not really. it's happened before but it's not a big thing.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? sometimes I write the smutty scenes from my fics then save it only for myself. no you can't see. it's probably terrible. there's some shitty zucest smut of mine out there somewhere but I'm not sure it's any good & couldn't tell you where to find it lol

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I think the AUs I write are called "fusion" because it's more "inserting characters into another world & the characters of that world aren't a thing." but my fic the balance of things was actually a crossover with characters from both wizards of waverly place & atla interacting. also I wrote THIS one-shot that's a crossover between the game the coffin of andy & leyley & the show wizards of waverly place. I didn't post it on ao3 but I'm just saying.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?  I don't think so?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have vague memories of doing this with this girl I was online friends with back in my fanfic.net days, years ago. I think it was Destiel.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? to write? I don't have one right now. I think maybe I got kinda burnt out on everything having to be about one ship or whatever rather than just telling the story & maybe that's a small part of why I'm taking a temporary break from fic writing & focusing on an original story so I'm not staying within fandom approved in parameters & I can just do whatever feels right ya know? I like Cisne's answer about any willow ship tho. me with my faves tbh hehe

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? can't think of one but I can think of fanfic ideas I'd like to return to & fully realize after I get back in the mood

16. What are your writing strengths? I like to think I'm okay at characterization although moving away from fanfic & working on something original has me questioning myself constantly!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I'm very lazy & often neglect research. sometimes if I don't know how to explain something I just change the whole scene so i don't have to bother.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? could be neat in the right context!

19. First fandom you wrote for? probably family guy lmao

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? maybe 'in search of glorious happenings of happenstance.' I think 'the devil you know' is objectively the strongest. but happenstance is just such a specific version of the characters that's fun to me? it's one of those two that's my favorite, depending on my mood

this is very long so these tags have even less pressure than usual:

@reythespacebae @theowritesfiction @imaslowlearner-butilearn @chasingfictions @hello-nichya-here @matchamarshmallow @akiizayoi4869 @dont-leafmealone @peony-pearl @lunaintheskyforever

also, anyone who wants to do this just say I tagged you!

[sailing-through-hawkins]

Part 1 ✧ Part 2 ✧ Part 3 of Harrington Charms Hellfire ✧ Part 4 ✧ AO3

Last time was the start of a pattern, Eddie's sure of it. The first time was fine, that was just Steve working his Family Video magic on Gareth to get some movie recommendations. Then that time with Jeff and Trey and Steve and going to some fancy record store to search for Dolly Parton and Prince and Tears for Fears and fucking hell nothing is sacred around Steve Harrington anymore.

It's like he has this halo, this fucking charisma bubble that makes everyone in the vicinity willing to fall at their feet for him. It's stupid because he's just a dork with a car and like, seven kids. One of whom is a butthead. He gets it from Steve, Eddie concludes, Dustin was a butthead way before Eddie took him in and it's all Steve's fault.

Hell, Eddie's just arrived at a Corroded Coffin band session and the first thing Frank asks him is "Hey, where's Harrington?"

And it's ridiculous, because it's been only a month since Steve has started joining in on their sessions, which means he's only been inside of Gareth's garage like four times. And yeah, Eddie's always happy to have him around but apparently, so is everyone else in the garage.

Eddie grits his teeth and tilts his head with what Jeff calls his 'maniac smile'. "Why it's great to see you too, Frank! I've been having a fine day, thank you for fucking asking. How have you been? How's the old guitar case?"

Frank holds his case closer to his chest protectively, rolling his eyes as if Eddie was nothing more than a yipping dog. "Yeah, yeah, good to see you, all that shit. Is Harrington here?"

"Wouldn't know," Eddie pushes his shoulders up in a forceful shrug, flopping down to the sofa and thrumming his fingers on the polished material. Feels nice. "I came by myself today."

And there's a second of pure silence before -

"What?!"

"What did you do?"

"No shit, he's not coming today?"

Remember what Eddie said a while back about having a breakdown about his life now? Yeah, looks like he's one dropped fork away from losing his entire shit so. That's fun.

"Since when do you guys even want him here?" Eddie spits, eyeing the three of them. There's literally no reason for this weird interrogation, Steve was busy doing his hero-shit and Eddie convinced him he could make it to the session by himself no problem, just come by later Stevie, nobody would hold it against you when you're literally saving babies and shit. "I thought he was just a glorified asshole who peaked in high school, hm?"

"Well, he was," Gareth defends, tossing up a drumstick and catching it again. Nervous habit, usually reserved for suggesting an idea Eddie is absolutely going to hate but still agree to, because it's still a fucking good idea, damn it. "Besides, you should be happy we're all finally getting along!"

"Oh, I am delighted, Gareth!" Eddie waves his hands up, ignoring the pinch of stretched skin across his upper body. Fuck, may need to check on that later. "I am fucking delighted that you, all of you, who have sworn that they'd feel nothing but disdain for the guy who literally saved my life, are suddenly all really into spending time with him! That doesn't sound suspicious at all!"

Jeff's eyebrows shoot up and he plops himself next to Eddie on the sofa, nudging their shoulders together. Fuck, his wounds are stinging. "You think we're, what, tricking Steve into thinking we like him?"

"Oh, you like him, do you?" Eddie narrows his eyes, the something ugly, now something beastly under his skin snarling, lurking near the surface. "Color me surprised when it's taken me months to even get you guys to let him drop me off here without biting at his ankles."

"It did not take months," Gareth huffs. "We just asked -"

"Demanded."

"- asked him not to stick around while we play. Not for the first time! We've told the freshmen no, more than once!"

"Yeah because they're freshmen," Eddie throws his hands up again, fuck his torso, he doesn't need it anyways. "Look, sorry if I'm a little bit suspicious, but he - he's a really good friend, okay? I just don't want him getting hurt. Not by you guys."

Another moment of silence.

"Have a little faith in us, Eddie," Jeff says with a sigh, standing up from his seat. He picks up his guitar and starts strumming, nodding along to the rhythm. "We're freaks, not complete dicks. Steve is...a good guy, we wouldn't do that to him."

And it hits him right there. They're just getting along with Steve - finally - because it's Steve. Everyone likes Steve, even people who don't like Steve like Steve, it's like a law of the universe. Hell, Eddie's even suspected Tommy H.'s...fixation for the King may have been something other than just liking, a not-so-platonic something, and that suspicion only got stronger after their weird friendship-break-up-this-is-my-new-king-thing.

"Gareth! Your friend is here!" Gareth's Mom giggles, fucking giggles, the door to the garage opening and revealing none other than the very man of the hour. A post-school-supply Steve. His tells are obvious, from the pen marks on his arm (happens everytime, and apparently by several different children who like trying to connect his moles, lucky little shits) to the shine in his eyes from a day of productivity. Damn him.

Steve turns to Gareth's Mom with that winning smile and gives her a nod as he walks in. "Thanks again, Mrs -"

"Oh please, Steve, I've already told you to just call me Olivia!" Gareth's Mom, who Eddie has never called anything other than Gareth's Mom, laughs and shakes the lunchbox in her hands. "Lord knows you've given us enough baked goods to drop the formalities."

Steve laughs again, god, he even has Gareth's Mom wrapped around his finger, doesn't he? "Thanks, Olivia. I'll be sure to bring that carrot cake over next time, promise."

And with a giggly farewell, Gareth's Mom closes the door behind her. Steve spins around to see the entire band staring at him, because where else would they look?

"You're on thin fucking ice, dude," Gareth points his drumstick at Steve with a ferocity Eddie usually sees reserved for the darkest of foes. "I told you to stop flirting with my mom already."

"Sorry, Gary," Steve shrugs as he plops down on the sofa next to Eddie. "But I think she might be the one -"

"Fuck you!" Gareth throws his drumstick at Steve, who just completely loses it and fuck, his laugh is too infectious. Eddie wonders if the thing in his chest is purring at that smile or growling at the idea of Steve genuinely flirting with Gareth's Mom. Not because she's Gareth's Mom, which - no, actually, just say it's because it's Gareth's Mom, that's weird.

The session goes by well, Eddie doesn't participate much outside of listening and suggesting tune changes or lyrics or anything really. He's just trying to keep the warmth of Steve's thigh against his own off his mind. It's been an hour since they sat down and even when everyone else has gone off to the bathroom, kitchen or wherever, Steve hasn't left Eddie's side for a moment. Seems to even...enjoy it, with the way he's smiling at Eddie. Damn him.

"So," Eddie nudges his thigh, which is definitely the exact opposite of ignoring but at least his wounds don't - nope, yeah, still stings, fuck. "The whole band was asking when you were coming, you know. You, Steve Harrington, managed to get the freakiest misfits of Hawkins all looking forward to your arrival."

Steve rubs the back of his neck, stroking along those two moles under his jawline that make excellent targets for - well. Not important. "Oh, that - that's nice, that they want me around now," he laughs and damn him. "I was worried cause I really like hanging out with them, y'know? Not to mention I don't have to think about them chasing me away from you now."

God damn him, that smooth fucker.

"You don't have to worry about that, Stevie." Eddie clears his throat, tapping his pinkie finger on his belt chain and if it also taps against Steve's thigh, well. That's nobody's business. "Even if they locked me up in a tower and threw away a key, I'd still find a way to you."

Shit, shit, shit, that's hitting too close to the heart, what the hell happened to definitely not love?!

"Oh," Steve says quietly, fuck fuck shit damn it Munson fuck, and then gives Eddie the most blinding smile in the world. Like - it's like someone used sunbeams trailing through a window on a spring morning as paint, all to paint the pretty picture of a golden, smiling, beautiful Steve Harrington. "That's really - thanks, Eds. I just - I guess I just want them to like me since they're like - they're your friends. And they're important to you."

And Eddie thinks about that for a second. Steve, against all odds, went ahead and made friends with the freaks because they're important to Eddie. And this was before he started coming to the band sessions, hell it was probably only a little bit after he started dropping Eddie off to them considering Gareth's current love of Grease of all things.

"You're important to me too," Eddie murmurs, the sting of his torso blurring away even as he turns to face Steve fully. This is it, this is the moment. "You carried me out of hell, Steve. I'd follow you back if you asked me to."

Nobody says anything. Then -

"Harrington!"

Whatever Steve was going to say (the beast purrs, howls, whines at his flushed cheeks, pushing out from inside Eddie's chest like it wants to curl up against Steve's instead), he's cut off by a grinning Frank. Steve quickly turns to smile at him (snarls, anger, fight) with a "Hey man."

And that's when Frank drops a magazine right in Steve's lap, smugly crossing his arms. Eddie tries not to glare at him because they were definitely having a moment but it's cool, everything's cool. "I've found it."

"No way," Steve's eyes widen at the magazine and he's laughing in disbelief, flicking through it with a wide grin. "What the fuck, Frankie, where'd - how'd - what the fuck?!"

"I have my ways," Frank says with his typical "I am a man of many secrets" smile that is currently driving Eddie up the wall because what the shit, Frank? "That is the correct one, then?"

"Yeah dude!" Steve nods and he's looking at Frank in awe and just -

"What exactly is this little surprise?" Eddie leans in closer, curling an arm up around Steve's shoulders and resting their heads together so he can have a peek at the magazine on Steve's lap. Obviously the most efficient method. And now Eddie can clearly see - "Wait, is that Star Trek?"

"A Trek 'zine by none other than one Gale Parker to be precise," Frank sits on Steve's other side, pointing out to one of the pages that has Steve so transfixed. "Took me a while, but this bit with the Tribbles sounded identical to your description so..."

"Dude," Steve is shaking his head and laughing, his eyes never leaving the page. "This is amazing. I didn't even - holy shit, I can't believe you just found it, based off nothing!"

"What d'you mean, based off nothing?" Eddie  is a little, just a little tired of being left out of the loop like this. Not the first time and probably, much to his own irk, won't be the last. But it's fine, it's cool, it's - "And why are you so excited over a nerdy magazine? You told me you never watched Star Trek?!"

Steve has the gall to look sheepish at that and bite at the inside of his lips, oh damn him. "I may have - okay so I technically haven't watched any of it now, I just...used to? Sometimes. When I was a kid."

"You -" Eddie inhales and mentally pats himself on the back for not screeching, Gareth's Mom would definitely not appreciate that. "You used to watch Star Trek?"

"I had a nanny," Steve says and Eddie nods because of course he did. He had tons of nannies because the Harringtons were assholes who didn't know how to appreciate any of their hired help, but Steve told him that in confidence so. Not the time. "She was super into Star Trek, would put it on every time it aired or like, she'd bring over the tapes she had. The Tribbles episode was my favourite, I always wanted to pet one but couldn't reach through the screen." He laughs and Eddie thinks, sunbeams, golden, warmth.

"You seem like a Tribbles kid," Eddie offers as if he has any idea what he's talking about. Steve smiles at him and looks back down to the magazine, which actually is a lot more worn than Eddie gave it credit for. The pages aren't glossy but reflect the light in a dim kinda way, not super polished. The page Steve's thumb is stroking has some kind of illustration of the big macho Captain with a slash across his shirt-chest-area and uh...huh. Mhm.

"When dad found out, he got pissed and sent her packing. She snuck me a package before she left and it was this," Steve holds up the magazine. "A magazine that her sister made and sent a copy to her. She gave it to me and I held on to it for years but...y'know how it is," Steve laughs, a bitter thing that makes the beast croon and whine. "Nothing stays hidden forever."

Eddie doesn't know how to respond to that. It sounds like one of those phrases Steve and Robin would share with each other, some kind of little inside secret that no one else could fathom, just the pair of them and their knowing glances. Eddie doesn't know what should stay hidden between them, that's the whole point of hiding, but he thinks, sometimes, it's just another fundamental gear to their machine. Just another piece of the puzzle that makes up the Hawkins' Heroes.

Yeah.

Heroes.

"But you fucking found the exact issue," Steve grins up at Frank, breaking apart the sombre mood like smashing an oar into a flying demon. No subtlety but god, does it work. "I just - holy shit, dude, you're like Sherlock Holmes or something."

Frank preens at that, because of course he does. Eddie's still got a lot of questions like, since when did Frank and Steve talk about Star Trek and did Frank offer to find a very localised fan-made product from Steve's childhood and what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck but apparently none of those questions matter right now because the beast in Eddie's chest is snarling and his wounds are ripping his insides out and -

"Eddie! Come on, man, stay with me!"

Blinking the spots out of his eyes, Eddie finds, right in front of him, Steve's big and beautiful face with concern etched into his brow. Warm palms cup his jawline and Eddie leans into the touch, heartbeat running faster than he ever could, than he ever has.

"Eds?" Steve calls him quietly, voice like a soothing balm over the shrapnel of his torso. "You with me?"

"'M always with you, Stevie," Eddie grins, or he thinks he does. He's probably not doing a very good job if Frank's pale face is anything to go by. "Ow, that hurts."

Steve takes his hand away from Eddie's waist where it was poking at his very tender wound. "Sorry, I - wait, has it been hurting this whole time? God, that's why you were wincing, you little shit. Gary," - And that's weird because Eddie definitely does not remember Gareth being here two seconds ago - "Got a medical kit somewhere 'round here?"

When he starts lifting up Eddie's shirt, it finally hits that oh shit, hang on, no. Eddie quickly grasps Steve's wrists and pull them away from his waist but the guy just isn't budging, damn his arms. "Wait, wait, wait, Stevie, I'm good, I'm good!"

"Liar," Steve glares at him and damn him for being so pretty when he does. "You just blanked out for a whole thirty seconds! Why didn't you tell me it was a bad day!"

"Because it wasn't!" Eddie's trying not to sound hysterical but the aggression that Steve's very clearly holding back in his trembling fists, which are still gripping Eddie's shirt fucking hell, is scrambling Eddie's brain to the point all he hears is a cartoonish wolf-whistle-and-howl on loop. "I swear, Stevie, I was fine until now! I am fine, I'm good!"

Steve stops pushing against Eddie's hands but still manages to lock him up with a swallow and worried eyes. "You swear? You're not just saying that?"

And fuck, Eddie will never be able to resist those eyes. The day he does is the same day Jane/El/Ellie (because Jane apparently is only one of her names and it still confuses the fuck out of him but he's supportive because fuck the man, have a fuckton of names!) swears off Eggos. "Swear on my hair, it's not that bad."

Does he totally understand Steve's need to know people's wellbeing, to make sure they're gonna be alright again, honest and just in the way he is? Kind of, in an abstract way, but sometimes Eddie thinks it goes a lot deeper than the little pond he sees the bottom of. He thinks that pond is just the first step, a false start that makes you think you know everything you need to about Steve. In fact, he thinks he'd need to cast Water Breathing on himself just to go that far into Steve's everything and understand him, at his core, the way Robin does effortlessly.

Because the way Steve's looking at him right now? Big eyes marred by a furrowed brow, jaw tense like he's clenching his own lungs, hand resting on Eddie's thigh like he's using a lifeline?

That's something Eddie doesn't think he'll ever understand.

"I'm okay, Steve," he says, trying his damnedest not to wince as he pats Steve's cheek. "I'm okay."

The beautiful, golden, bleeding heart of a guy in front of him takes in a shuddering breath and lets go of his shirt to rub at his eyes. He lets out a bark of a laugh (the beast barks back, keening and weeping as if mourning the loss of the sunbeam's warmth) and flops his head onto the sofa, face covered by his hands.

"Uh," Gareth clears his throat, shuffling on his feet with a little box of bandaids and Vaseline (oh he is absolutely getting teased for that later) in his hands. "Should I put this back or -?"

"No," Steve takes in a breath and sits up, spine hardened and strong against the weight of what Eddie thinks might be the whole world. Steve smiles at Gareth and takes the box, putting in on the sofa space between him and woah, there is like barely any space, Steve's knee is practically shoving its way behind Eddie's back. Well, there's a thought - "Thanks, Gareth. I'll just do a quick check and drop him home."

"But -"

"I will do a quick check," Steve says pleasantly, eyes ablaze with gold and fire and a decided lack of choice for Eddie. "And if it's bad, I'm going to drop you home where you will stay in bed or on the couch, your choice, while I call Wayne and let him know what's up."

"Stevie -"

"And you are going to be good," Steve continues in that pleasant tone, lifting up Eddie's shirt and gently stroking his thumb across Eddie's bat bites like they're something holy, oh fuck. "And let me take care of you, right Eds?"

Don't look at his face, don't think about his voice, do NOT think about him calling Eddie a good boy, don't do it Munson, hold strong, hold fucking strong -

"Eddie."

"Yes sir!" Eddie squeaks when Steve's palm warms Eddie's hip, squeezing just enough that Eddie may have to recite the entire Players Handbook just to keep calm. It's not very effective. "Yup, that's me, Good Boy Eddie, that's what they call me."

Fucking hell.

Frank is doubled over behind Steve, gripping his own arms as his shoulders shake like he's laugh - oh fuck him. Gareth is absolutely holding in his laughter with the way his fist is practically shoved into his mouth, fuck him. At least Jeff has the decency to share Eddie's shame and hides his face in his hands and oh no, he's laughing too isn't he, oh fuck him come on.

"Looks like it's not too bad," Steve concludes, sitting upright and away from Eddie's immediate space (come back, the beast whines, come back and let me hold you). "No tears, no inflamed parts, no gut reactions to me poking, you might really be fine."

"Told you," Eddie says weakly, flipping a subtle bird to the silent guffawing band that banes his existence. "All good."

"Yeah, you're good." Steve lets out a chuckle, patting Eddie's head before settling back into the sofa with a stretch. Wow, for someone who's back and front have been torn to shreds by a horrific alternate dimension and its goons...Steve's back sure does arch, it sure does. "Thanks for the kit, Gary, sorry for the whole - y'know."

"Eh," Gareth shrugs, taking back the kit with a smarmy look that Eddie does not like. "'S alright. Quick question though, you always tuck Eddie in or is that a new Harrington Habit?"

"I thought we agreed Harrington Habits are not gonna be a thing," Steve rolls his eyes.

"And," Jeff says as if Steve didn't say a word (do they have inside jokes now? What's a Harrington Habit?), flopping an arm over Gareth's shoulders with a bastardly smirk. "Is it Eddie-exclusive or can we get some precious nurse Steve time?"

And that gets Steve's cheeks blooming a bright pink, the beast gnawing on Eddie's ribcage like it just needs an excuse to rip, tear, bite. "Shut it, Jeffrey."

"Ooh, a full name, someone's in the dog house," Frank laughed, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder.

The beast wants to hiss, bite, snarl -

Eddie shakes his head with a sigh and claps his hands. "Alright, alright, are we gonna practice or are we just gonna torture poor Stevie all day?"

Frank snorts but his face quickly turns innocent when Eddie snaps his head around to glare, the bastard.

"I vote for practice," Steve raises his hand weakly and oh fuck, Eddie's in fucking love isn't he.

"Alright, alright," Jeff chuckles, shoving Gareth towards his drums (finally, some good fucking roughhousing) and picking up his own guitar. "We got another half an hour in us, let's put it to good use."

Steve's pink fades away but his face is still flushed by a smile as he hollers them on, Eddie joining along when Frank manages to get the perfect build-up for Gareth to try out a solo and yeah. Yeah, this is good, this is -

This is home.

Just one more part planned for this! can't say when it'll be out but hope you all enjoyed this regardless ^^

if anyone else had wanted to be tagged but wasn't or if i accidentally tagged someone wrongly, my apologies tag list: @ramyayaya @alienace @5pac3g1r7 @emly03 @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @maya-custodios-dionach @elliegrey2803

[wigglywantshiswrath]

I have yet to actually thoroughly explain the Antichrist AU so I'm gonna get into it!

(warning, this'll be a LONGGG text post- so here's a TL;DR: Antichrist AU was made by me and my friend, the Lords each chose a human to basically kidnap and use to eventually bring the worsg apocalypse ever. Wiggly chose an orphan, Tinky chose a cousin of Ted and Pete, Pokey chose a mean girl, Blinky chose a part time twitch streamer part time theorist and Nibbly chose the roomate of the streamer, a stoner.)

The Antichrist AU is an au me and a friend made where the Lords In Black see that Webby speaks with Hannah a lot and they go "Hey! Let's do that ourselves!" but in their own fucked up way. They each chose a specific human to deem whats humans call "an Antichrist" (which the Lords think it's funny to call "Anti-webbys"). These Antichrists are assigned with the job of living with the Lords in The Black and White until one day they will be used to bring upon Hatchetfield's worst apocalypse yet. 

We'll start off with Mateo. Mateo is a 10 year old orphan who never had much. The old orphanage Hatchetfield somehow still managed to have never taught the children much of anything. Mateo still managed to grow up a kind and sweet kid, when one day while wandering around outside he found.. a wiggly doll. This was the day Wiggly chose him, as he was one of the only actual KIDS to love a wiggly doll. Not even a few nights later, Mateo dissapeared from the orphanage, and it was barely even noticed. Mateo doesn't mind though. He's simply happy to have a "mom" now! He calls Wiggly his mom, as Jenn has said he reminds her of the "wine mom" stereotype, and because of how Wiggly is... oddly parental to Mateo.

Next up is James. James spankoffski. James is the 16 year old cousin of the spankoffski bros, a cousin they barely knew of, as James' parents weren't.. the best. Infact, they were horrible. Horrible to the point James ran away to Pete and Ted's house they shared, as their parents weren't really.. living with them, leaving Ted to raise Pete. Whats one more child to add to the mix? They didn't have to take care of James for long either before he dissapeared. James was chosen by Tinky because James was rare.. his birth in a timeline was a rare event. Usually he either was never born or died at the hands of his parents or an accident. So an alive James was such a rare find for Tinky.. he couldn't just let him go. James is a very paranoid and anxious boy, scared of almost everything.. not a very good mix with Tinky, but they'll... be fine.

Then we get to Sabryna. Sabryna was observed by Pokey for a longggg time.. farrrrr before the Antichrist idea was given. Sabryna is a rich, rude 16 year old girl who puts her EVERYTHING into her school theater programs. She wants to be the best. She wants to do something to make her parents proud of her. Her parents.. barely ever cared for her. They gave her all she wanted only so then she would shut up and they could forget she existed. Sabryna.. wants them to know she exists. She does all she does and gets awards and becomes the star of every show put on so then her parents will acknowledge her. When taken by Pokey, Sabryna's parents barely even care to search for her. Sabryna has a new father now. A father who will be far more impressed with her theatrical work, and who will give her the attention she wanted.

Almost to the end of the list, we get to Karl. Karl a 19 year old who was once considered a nerd in Hatchetfield Highschool.. before he became burnt out, and accepted that. He's still a nerd, but now is a nerd who streams on Twitch part-time, and also uploads.. questionable theories onto youtube. He's a bit weird, writing down a lot of things he learns about people, and being scarily observant of small details. He shares a house with his bestfriend since childhood, Jenn, who occasionally appears on his streams. He was chosen to work for Blinky, and even though he is given an exact replica of he and Jenn's old room, access to his computer, youtube channel, and streaming stuff.. he isn't just accepting all this now. He's always writing down all info he can get about the Lords. Blinky may watch everything, but Karl is watching him.

and finally, we get to Jenn. Jenn is also 19 and was chosen by Nibbly for reasons that aren't exactly explained. Maybe it has to do with Nibbly's themeing for desire? Jenn is very provocative for her age, caused by something in her childhood she has never explained. Jenn lives with Karl, and lives mostly off of Karl's twitch stream donations. She doesn't need much in life, mostly just using the occasional money from Karl to buy more snacks or weed from Perky's Buds. She had connections to the owner, Emma Perkins, as she is who had taken in Jenn in her last few weeks of being 17, so then Jenn could finally be free from the fostercare system she had spent her whole life in. Maybe though Nibbly's reason for choosing her was just how she eats a lot of food from the hunger from usage of weed. Who knows? Def not Jenn.

And that's all of them!

Okay I lied there's 1 more

Darcy. A recently turned 18 year old who was chosen by Webby to try to help stop the Lords. Darcy felt.. special. She was able to be communicated with like Hannah is. Webby wanted to show herself to Darcy, and had told her to meet her in the woods so they could plan how to save everyone.. but when Darcy got to the woods early.. some illegal Nighthawk hunters didn't see her.. they tried to shoot a nighthawk and missed, instead shooting the girl they hadn't seen. She died almost instantly, and the hunters, not wanting to be arrested, ran off and told no one of what they had done. When Webby found the girl, she was terrified and distraught. She didn't want this to happen. This wasn't supposed to happen. Darcy, however, wasn't giving up. She managed to come back as a ghost, now with long white hair and web-like veins. She now still works with Webby, trying her best to help the Fosters and everyone else.. she wants the Antichrists to stay safe.. but oddly.. she feels as if she can help the Lords themselves. Foolish optimism if I do say so myself.. Webby can't look at Darcy for long without feeling guilty.. she hadn't meant for Darcy to die in all this.. but Darcy forgives her and doesn't mind. It's not like she had a family at home anyways.. her mother had died in childbirth and her father was a busy store owner that basically had forgotten he ever had a daughter years ago! He was under some kind of spell.

[myymi]

intro !!

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⤿danielle / myla

⤿18 || [02/23]

⤿agender || they/them + ny/nym (preferred, but im ok w any!!)

⤿alt.blogs :: personal - @dyymi || art - @ceemi

⤿ao3

⤿mutuals are free to ask for my discord 💜

⤿.

⤿don't forget your daily clicks!!

faq !!

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⤿"are you still taking prompts?"

⇢ ˗ˏˋmy bio will say if theyre open or closed <3

⤿"how do you get inspiration?"

⇢ ˗ˏˋlistening to music!

⤿"can i draw art based on your fics?"

⇢ ˗ˏˋof course!! please tag me if you do, i'd love to see it!

⤿"have you written for any other fandoms?"

⇢ ˗ˏˋyes, but you'll never find it. i never posted them lol

⤿"any tips for __?"

⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck my tips tag first!

main tags !!

꒷˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

⤿tails - miles tails prower

⇢ ˗ˏˋ& sonic - unbreakable bond / dynamic duo

⇢ ˗ˏˋ& knuckles - brain and brawn

⇢ ˗ˏˋ& amy - pinky lemonade

⇢ ˗ˏˋ& shadow - bumblebee

⤿asks - myyanswers / anon / anonymous / anon ask

⤿drabbles - myydrabs

⤿fanfic - myyfics

⤿headcanons - myyhcs

⤿alt.blogs rbs - dyymi / ceemi

⤿tips - writing tips

(you may not find every post when searching up tags. i sometimes forget to tag them, and a lot of these are new ones. sorryyy)

fics !!

꒷˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

[it's quite long, so i'm going to add a read more]

⤿Quick Trip

⇢ ˗ˏˋTails just wanted to run to the store to pick up a few things but was attacked on his way home.

⤿Tails can Purr

⇢ ˗ˏˋjust the family finding out tails can purr

⤿Tails can Purr | Sonic Boom Edition

⇢ ˗ˏˋthis is before season 2, same time as cabin fever cause i love that episode

⤿Welcome To Westside Island!

⇢ ˗ˏˋtails runs into some old 'friends'

⤿What Kind of Genius Can't Figure This Out?

⇢ ˗ˏˋThe crew stay behind to lend a hand in repairing the chateau after the avalanche hits. Over time, Tails properly processes everything that happened that day, but is left with more questions than answers.

⤿Early Birthday Gift

⇢ ˗ˏˋTails is working on The Tornado when Amy swings by the house with an early birthday present

⤿Sonic Hoodie

⇢ ˗ˏˋsonic comes home to tails in a hoodie that looks like him

⤿Feelings

⇢ ˗ˏˋSonic and Tails have a little talk about what happened during the war.

⤿Reality Check

⇢ ˗ˏˋWhat starts as a normal day with Tails fixing up Omega after an accident turns into the fox receiving a reality check from Shadow

⤿Chaotix Babysitting

⇢ ˗ˏˋour favorite detective agency look after our favorite two tailed fox while he's sick :)

⤿Abandonment Issues

⇢ ˗ˏˋKnuckles and Tails are left home alone for the first time. It later proves to be a terrible idea

⤿They're Called Scary Movies for a Reason

⇢ ˗ˏˋtails watches a horror movie for the first time. it does not end well

⤿Echidna Memorial

⇢ ˗ˏˋknuckles takes sonic and tails to the memorial he made for his ancestors :]

⤿It's What Brothers Do

⇢ ˗ˏˋjust a cute little moment between the boys, set in the aosth universe :]

⤿That's His Little Brother

⇢ ˗ˏˋsomeone else saves Sonic instead of the avatar

⤿Worried

⇢ ˗ˏˋAs Tails packs up the Tornado, Sonic comes to him to talk about something on his mind.

⤿What's the Point?

⇢ ˗ˏˋtails notices people don’t typically care to listen to his tech rambles so he stops

⤿Sleeping Troubles

⇢ ˗ˏˋknuckles wakes to find tails missing and sets off to locate him. they talk abt history :]

⤿Hide and Seek

⇢ ˗ˏˋjust kids being kids. for the most part, anyways

⤿You're Not Alone

⇢ ˗ˏˋa small rewrite of one of the scenes in the third issue of idw's scrapnik island :]

⤿Rainy Day, Sick Hedeghog

⇢ ˗ˏˋsonic gets sick, leaving tails to take care of him :]

⤿He's Still Five.

⇢ ˗ˏˋknuckles watches over tails while sonic goes to fight eggman

⤿First I Love Yous

⇢ ˗ˏˋsonic wakes up to a empty bed that should’ve had a fox cub in it

⤿Jelly

⇢ ˗ˏˋbasically; tails finds out he’s allergic to jelly. lethally

⤿Sonic Prower

⇢ ˗ˏˋsonic changes his name

⤿Online Fights

⇢ ˗ˏˋsonic and tails get into a fight like losers /lh

⤿If you can't catch a Hedgehog, Torture a Fox

⇢ ˗ˏˋthis is based off a response my friend got when messing around with an eggman ai

⤿School Troubles

⇢ ˗ˏˋTom and Maddie get a call from the school about Tails

⤿Complimentary Colors

⇢ ˗ˏˋobligatory first meet fic starring sonic and tails

⤿Waiting

⇢ ˗ˏˋtails waits for sonic to come home

⤿Storybook

⇢ ˗ˏˋEither Tails has a nice nostalgia trip, or Sonic gets to embarrass him. The joys of being the big brother.

⤿Easily Hurt

⇢ ˗ˏˋ"You ever think about plastic surgery to fix those, uh, freaky tails?" -- based on the events in episode 61 'fast and easy' in aosth

⤿Situation

⇢ ˗ˏˋknuckles gets some visitors

⤿Tumblr Drabbles

⇢ ˗ˏˋvarious drabbles from tumblr

⤿Find a Rock

⇢ ˗ˏˋbaby tails meets amy

⤿One Last Favor

⇢ ˗ˏˋa scene from telltale's the walking dead game rewritten w sonic and tails

⤿Mobius Lost Another Hero

⇢ ˗ˏˋtails, knuckles, and shadow scavenge for supplies. it does not end well

⤿Grocery Shopping

⇢ ˗ˏˋlittle slice of life fic, aosth bros

⤿Similarities

⇢ ˗ˏˋshadow sits on a roof to sulk. tails says no

⤿Tail Wags

⇢ ˗ˏˋtails finds out his tails wag

⤿Rainstorm

⇢ ˗ˏˋknuckles sonic and tails are stuck in a cave during a rainstorm

⤿A Warm Meal

⇢ ˗ˏˋzombie apocalypse sonic au - inspired by telltale's the walking dead (s1e2)

⤿New Allies

⇢ ˗ˏˋsonic and tails meet knuckles !! yayyy

⤿Bitten

⇢ ˗ˏˋzombie apocalypse sonic au - inspired by telltale's the walking dead (s2e1)

⤿Actions Have Consequences

⇢ ˗ˏˋzombie apocalypse sonic au - inspired by telltale's the walking dead (s1e3)

⤿What Did I Do?

⇢ ˗ˏˋmy take on what happens after the end of sonic prime part 3 (contains spoilers)

⤿Have You Seen Tails?

⇢ ˗ˏˋsonic wakes up from his nap and tails is not there

⤿False Paradise

⇢ ˗ˏˋsonic and tails talk on angel island

⤿Collapsed

⇢ ˗ˏˋa large hotel collapses while a certain fox is inside

⤿Holoska

⇢ ˗ˏˋonce the world began to restore itself after the war against infiite, tails sets out to explore an abadoned eggman base located in holoska

surely nothing bad could happen there

⤿Love is Confusing

⇢ ˗ˏˋtails has no idea what love is

⤿Familiar Faces

⇢ ˗ˏˋtails runs into a few familiar faces as he's transporting a batch of weapons to the resistance's armory

⤿Welcome to the Team

⇢ ˗ˏˋAmy and Sonic are on a walk through a forest when Knucks, Amy's Sandslash, runs off the path. They follow him, and Sonic ends up gaining a new team member. - pokemon au

⤿Tumblr Drabbles

⇢ ˗ˏˋvarious drabbles from tumblr

[nebulablakemurphy]

Through Love And By Love (Pt. 5)

Summary: Twenty-Two years ago, Draco Malfoy used the imperius curse to slow Voldemort’s rise to power. No good deed goes unpunished. Warning: this series contains mature subject matter surrounding use of the imperius curse, reader discretion advised.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

The time comes, Hogwarts is under fire; Harry Potter has been cornered. The death eaters have assembled a battalion on the outskirts of the school. It’s been surrounded by a protection charm, the people inside are prepared to fight.

When Voldemort calls Rosanna and Draco to the front lines, they know it's time. One final decision, one last sacrifice.

"Rosanna, Draco, come." The dark lord purrs, motioning them away from the group, away from Lucius and Narcissa. "I have a rather special task for you."

"Yes, my lord." Draco answers, but as always, Voldemort is fixated on Rosanna.

"You knew the Potter boy. He may still hold affections for you," The noseless man whispers. "There's something I need from inside the school. You are trusted, and therefore, you must get it for me. Draco, would you accompany her? Make sure she doesn’t run into trouble." Or cause it.

"My pleasure." Draco nods, putting a protective arm around her.

"What are we looking for?" Ro asks, shakily.

Voldemort's mouth twists into a grin, "Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem."

————————————————————————-

They enter Hogwarts, largely unnoticed, in the chaos. The room of requirement appearing with ease, and they shuffle inside.

Taking a long look around the room, Rosanna sighs, "piece of cake." It’s cluttered from floor to ceiling, wall to wall.

Draco runs his fingers over the plat in her hair, reaching the middle of her back. "You say that like we're in a hurry." He replies, just as sarcastically.

"Wanna tell me what the hell a diadem is?" She takes a step toward the nearest pile of items.

"Tiara," he motions to his head, as if placing a crown.

"Does everybody dump something in here?" Ro scowls, turning over a dark oak box.

"Good a place as any."

"If we find it, we'll need something to destroy it." She reminds him, "I think Harry used some kind of tooth to get rid of the diary?"

"Basilisk fang," Draco's heard the story on more than one occasion. "Can’t easily get our hands on one of those."

"Good thing we have one." Harry says, stepping out of the shadows.

Rosanna turns to her old friend. "Shit, Harry. How long were you standing there?”

"Long enough to be sure you were still you.” Harry half smiles. “S'good to see you, Ro."

Hermione steps around, meeting Rosanna in the middle and holding fast. "Are you alright?"

"Can't complain," Rosanna says, as they finally break apart.

Ron greets her next, "getting a bit round through the middle, don't you think?" He chuckles, squeezing her shoulders. "Might want to lay off the sweets."

"Shut up." Rosanna grins.

"Malfoy's been taking care of you?" Harry approaches last, embracing her for a beat.

"What kind of back handed question is that, Potter?" Draco snarks.

"As much as we’ve all missed your banter, there’s work to do." The pregnant woman reiterates. "We're looking for-"

"Lost diadem of Ravenclaw?" Harry offers.

Rosanna nods.

"Brilliant," Ron says, "you guys are with us then?"

"For now, Weaslebee." Draco replies.

The group spreads out to cover more ground.

"What will happen if you don't return with it?" Hermione pulls another chair from the pile.

"Nothing good." Malfoy grumbles. "Is this the last one then? Horcrux?"

"That and his snake." Harry can hear the diadem hissing, like the other horcruxes, they must be getting close.

"If we play our cards right, we could still get close enough." Rosanna gnaws the inside of her cheek. "Kill Nagini."

"Then you'll be killed, awful idea, Ro." Hermione chastises.

"I've accepted the fact that I'm probably gonna die." Rosanna confesses, still searching through the odds and ends.

"Hey, no one's dying tonight but him." Ron replies, with fierce determination. "We didn't come this far to lose it all now."

Draco and Harry are silent in their work, Harry understands that Rosanna is onto something. He is also in acceptance of his own untimely demise.

Draco on the other hand, is still tempted to take Ro and run. Let the chips fall where they may. He has enough stashed away, they could live comfortably, some place no one would look for them.

————————————————————————-

They destroy the diadem and head their separate ways.

Rosanna and Draco coming across a death eater standing over a disarmed Fred Weasley. It isn’t anyone they recognize, only the higher ups were invited to meetings at Malfoy Manner.

Rosanna deals the woman a confundus charm.

"Thanks, Ro." Fred says, collecting his wand.

"Don't mention it," she taps his arm. Still his kid brother's annoying friend, who shows up to eat on major holidays. "Seriously, I’m not supposed to be here."

The red head zips his lips with a grin.

Navigating the castle, with Rosanna one week short of her due date, is a nightmare. However most woman go over the nine month mark, which is a comfort to both them.

"Everything's gone to shit." Draco bites out. His dark mark has gone from twinging, to outright burning. Voldemort is attempting to summon him. "It's time we get you out of here."

"Draco," Rosanna grabs his elbow. "I can't leave."

"You've chosen a side, you've helped find the diadem, seen it destroyed. Potter is a shoe in." Draco wants, more than anything, to just take her. Hating him be damned, so long as she's alive to hate him.

Unbidden, Voldemort's voice pierces the veil of their minds to deliver a message. They have one hour to hand Harry over, or he will take him by force, killing anyone who stands in the way.

"We have to find Harry." Ro says, as soon as Voldemort stops crooning in her ears.

"Potter told you to keep away from him until the time is right; until the end. If the dark lord catches wind that we've helped him-"

"He's gonna give himself up." If Harry dies, they lose.

"Granger and Weasley will sort it out. Strictly from a strategic stand point; there are times you must to lose the battle, to win the war. If there is part of the prophecy you must still answer, you must survive long enough to answer it." Draco reasons, tucking her safely behind a nearby pillar.

"Draco... I don't want to die. I don't want you to die. But more than that, I know I can't live in a world where Voldemort is in power. I can't bring a child into it. I'm sorry if that's selfish." The words leave an awful taste in her mouth, but she means them; to the core of her being.

"You're not selfish." Draco murmurs, sick to his stomach.

"Then why are you looking at me like that?" She whispers, clearly her words upset him.

"Because I am." He runs his knuckles over her jawline. "I want you to live, more than I want him die." Draco confesses.

Rosanna sighs, wrapping her arms around him. "Stay with me, till the end?"

Draco nods, desperately returning the embrace. Burying his nose in her hair, taking all of her in; and then letting all of her go.

————————————————————————

"Harry Potter is dead," Voldemort announces.

The mass of death eaters behind him rejoice. Hagrid is among them, restrained by a rope necklace, held in several different directions. Harry's limp body in his arms.

"From now on, you put your faith in me." Voldemort smiles, proudly. "Those who wish to join me, declare yourselves. Those who are unwilling, prepare to meet your end."

Draco's fingers twitch against Rosanna's, maybe if he holds her tight enough...maybe if he just loves her enough, he can keep her safe.

"Draco," Lucius hisses, extending his hand. "Come on, don't be foolish."

"Sweetheart." Narcissa chimes in, when he make no move to join them.

Where you go, I go.

Where you go, I go.

And no one moves.

"Insolent fools! Can’t you see? You’ve already lost.” Voldemort shouts, sending a curse their way. It ricochets off the wand Draco is wielding, a replacement for he one he’d given Harry back at the manor.

Voldemort begins to laugh, the death eaters join in his hysteria.

It's no secret that Draco isn't the strongest wizard, despite his pure blood heritage. He's never been as skilled as Rosanna, who could cast nonverbal spells. Draco himself is shocked.

"I'd like to say something." Neville limps forward from the group, delivering a speech that will not soon be forgotten. Ending with him drawing the sword of Gryffindor from the sorting hat.

Harry flops, like a fish, onto the cement at Hagrid's feet.

This is it. This is their chance.

"Potter!" Draco calls, tossing his wand.

Voldemort fires a string of curses Harry's way, causing the walls to crumble around him.

"Get inside the castle!" McGonagall instructs the still cheering students.

Harry Potter is alive.

"Are you ok?" Rosanna demands, tugging at Draco's sleeve as they rush past the door frame.

"I'm fine, are you alright?” He counters.

“Yeah,” Rosanna tries to catch her breath, as they continue their brisk pace farther into the castle.

"We need to sort out what to do about wands. We only have yours, if we run into trouble-"

"If?" A voice from behind Draco startles him.

"What are you doing here?" Draco demands of his father, Narcissa beside him.

"My son and grandchild are in danger, where else would I be?" Lucius asks, in a clipped tone.

"But you-"

"Not everything is black and white." Draco's father reminds him.

"I suppose it's not, Lucius." A tall, raven haired, man says. Wand poised at his former ally. "Didn’t take you for a traitor. A sniveling coward perhaps, but never a traitor."

The death eaters lock in a duel.

"We need to find Nagini." Rosanna insists. Hermione and Ron were looking for the snake too; before they got separated in the crowd.

"Go," Narcissa nods, "we'll hold them off as best we can."

Draco exchanges a look with his mother. "Thank you."

————————————————————————

They spot Nagini on the staircase, slithering toward the courtyard.

"I've gotta get closer." Rosanna says, taking the stairs as fast as her legs allow.

"Come again?" Draco growls, keeping her pace.

"Cover me." She insists, stuffing her wand into his hand; leaving him to tend the two death eaters that follow them.

"You have no wand." Draco turns his back to her reluctantly, blocking a spell. "Nine months bloody pregnant." He tosses his own hex as he scolds her. "And you want to get closer to the giant snake?"

It is possible to channel magic without a wand, but that is advance spell casting, far beyond anything they’d been taught in school.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Rosanna says, with conviction, and for a solid second, Nagini is suspended in midair; before plummeting back onto the staircase, with a sickening thud.

"Rosanna, I swear-" Draco is cut off, as the man to his right narrowly misses Rosanna with the killing curse. The green light hitting Nagini instead. Unfortunately, the snake cannot be so easily killed. "She is," expelliarmus, "a piece," stupefy, "of work," crucio. "But she is my piece of work." Avada Kedavra.

"Didn't think you had it in you." The remaining man chuckles, "your father never had the stomach."

"I'm not my father." Draco doesn't owe anymore explanation.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Rosanna tries a second time. The snake is pulled back toward her, snapping at her face, before being whirled up into the air. Her entire body trembling with the effort. Unlike using a wand as a conduit, she herself has become the vessel through which the magic is harnessed.

"Ro!" Ron calls, racing down the stairs, past Draco, with Hermione in tow.

"Tell me you’ve still got the tooth." Rosanna replies.

"How are you doing that without a wand?" Hermione asks. Few wizards or witches can perform wandless magic that reaches their desired outcome.

"Not very well," Rosanna can feel herself weakening.

"We've got it from here." Ron assures her, leading the snake away.

Rosanna collapses as the spell is broken, falling unceremoniously onto her ass.

"Don't move." Draco warns, finishing off the older man, before joining her. "You can't do that to me. I couldn't get to you, if something would've happened, there was nothing I could do."

"I'm sorry." She understands, if roles were reversed she'd be pissed too.

Draco checks her over, throughly. "You look like hell."

"Thanks," she huffs a laugh.

"Bloodshot eyes, ghostly pale, your lips have no color." Draco presses two fingers to the pulse point at her neck. "Weakened pulse, heavy eyelids. You're going to faint, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I think so." Rosanna relaxes into him.

He chuckles, stroking hairs away from her clammy forehead. “That is what being a hero gets you. Sweaty and unconscious on a staircase.”

"Is she dead?" Narcissa sees the girl cradled in his lap, making a beeline for her son. "Draco is she-"

"Don't sound so concerned mother, she's merely over exerted herself." Draco tells her and his father.

"I'm fine." Rosanna argues, pitifully.

"You look like hell." Lucius gasps, taking a good look at the girl.

"I'm aware." She rolls her eyes, and the world goes black.

————————————————————————

Rosanna comes to at the Manor, now in a pale blue cap sleeve night gown. The room is still, Draco in the arm chair, his head resting on the bed beside her. She passes a hand over his hair, not wanting to disturb him, but needing him to know she's there.

He shifts, lifting his head to see her.

"How long was I out?" She asks, tentatively.

"Nearly a day." Now Draco looks like hell.

"You ok?" Ro asks.

"Mhm." He hums, low in his throat.

"No, you’re not." She knows him.

"What gave me away?" Draco raises his brows.

"It rolls off you in waves." Rosanna notes.

His jaw ticks, "I've never been good hiding it, not with you anyway. But I suspect you know that."

She nods.

"I love you more than I should." He says, turning his gaze out the window. "Surely it's not supposed to feel like this."

"How does it feel?" She frowns.

"Like it'll kill me...like I can't live without it;" he lets out a shaky breath, "without you."

"I don't know what it's 'supposed' to feel like." She purses her lips. "But I can tell you, that's exactly what loving you feels like."

Draco climbs into the bed. Tangling their legs, her head resting on his chest, fingers carding her strawberry blonde locks. "Stay with me forever.”

"Where you go, I go." Ro presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Let me up a minute," he taps her shoulder. "I understand that diamonds are traditional," his voice is slightly muffled, as he shuffles through the bedside table for the box. "Seeing as we're hardly traditional-" He turns back to her. "Sapphires represent faithfulness and sincerity."

The box springs open, revealing a beautiful, deep blue, pear shaped, sapphire ring with a diamond halo.

Rosanna is speechless.

"You'd like a diamond..." Draco trails off.

"No, Draco, I love it." Rosanna shakes her head, extending a hand to him.

He slides the ring onto her left finger, pressing his lips to it.

Rosanna holds her hand at arms length, between them. "What do you think?"

"Perfect."

————————————————————————

Labor sneaks up on Rosanna. It’s fast and slow. Everything happens all at once, or seemingly nothing happens at all.

She is nervous and wishes her mother could be there, but Draco is more than enough. Supporting her, making her comfortable; assuring her that she can do this, every time it feels like she can’t.

Narcissa returns with Rosanna’s mother, just in time to meet their granddaughter.

The moment the tiny baby draws breath, the sacred twenty-eight pure blood families, become the sacred twenty-seven. Just as importantly, not a single person in the room cares.

"Good job, baby, good job." Dixie leans down to kiss her daughter's head.

"Oh my god," Rosanna sobs, as the squealing infant is placed on her chest. "Hi honey, hi."

Draco is still in shock, frozen behind her. He doesn't dare move, for fear he might come out of his skin.

"It's a girl," the midwife says, in disbelief. Ten generations of Malfoy, never a single girl.

"She's beautiful, sweetheart. Well done." Narcissa says, after a long pause, stroking Rosanna's sweat damp hair, affectionately.

"She?” Rosanna can't believe her ears. “Are you sure?"

"That's right, my darling girl, you have a daughter. Draco," Narcissa turns her eyes to her son, who still has his arms twined almost too tightly around Rosanna. "It's alright." She assures him, "you can let go now."

Draco tentatively moves a hand to the baby in her arms.

She's covered by a thin blanket, through the blood, he can see hair peeking through.

“Lots of light hair, just like Daddy.”

Immediately he's moved to tears, chin resting on Rosanna's shoulder.

She turns her head to kiss his cheek. "Doing ok back there?"

"Perfect." There's so much more he wants to say, but he can't find the words.

Ro relaxes, into the crook of Draco's shoulder. "I still like Leo.”

He presses his lips to her temple. "Leo it is." Draco agrees.

The older women begin trickling out of the room, leaving the couple and their daughter to rest.

Lucius and Rosanna’s father are waiting, impatiently at the end of the hall. Lucius springs to his feet, from the arm chair, at the sound of approaching footsteps. “Why was the midwife holding out on pain potions? You'd have thought she was being tortured up there."

"Rosanna's fine," Narcissa assures him, "sleeping."

"And the baby?" Archer asks, his foot bouncing on the wood floor.

"Beautiful, a little girl." Dixie tells her husband, feeling herself choke up a bit.

"A girl," Lucius' lips twitch. "Does my granddaughter have a name?"

"She's not yours," Archer seethes.

"I've just as much claim to her as you do." Lucius squares his shoulders, indignantly. "Draco fathered her."

"Under duress!" Archer moves to stand. "Soon as she's awake, I'm taking my daughter home."

"What about Rosanna? What about what she wants?" Narcissa asks.

"You think you know what Ro wants?" Dixie cuts her off. "I've only raised her from birth, but go ahead and tell me what she wants."

"She wants to be with Draco, with their daughter. She wants to be a proper family and to-"

"To what?" Archer bites out.

"To finish school... she misses quidditch, she wants to be with her friends. Believe it or not, I care a great deal for your Rosanna. She's not what I imagined for our son, or even what I wanted, but she's what he needs." She draws in a breath. "It's a fool’s errand, trying to keep them apart."

“She’s coming home with us.”

"Rosanna’s of age." Lucius points out. "You have no hold on her."

"The hell I don't, she's my little girl!" Archer lunges at him. "My baby, not yours!"

"I am sorry for what's happened, but it cannot be undone." Narcissa says, staring down at the floor.

Lucius hopes to be a better Grandfather, than he was a father. Maybe he and Draco could still make amends. "We must set aside whatever animosity there is between us, and do right by our children. Do right by their daughter."

"Leo," Dixie tells him, extending an olive branch, against her better judgement. "Her name is Leo."

Part 6

[athenodora-sulpicia-writer]

Enchanted- Vesper Lynd x FemReader

Context: You work for MI6 and are attending a gala type party they’re hosting, only to find that your girlfriend, Vesper Lynd, hasn’t yet arrived and she’s the only reason you chose to come.

A/N: I love Vesper and really wanted to write for her. I hope you all enjoy this, I wrote it quite late last night so sorry for any mistakes.

Warning(s): rough kissing and social anxiety

It was a night unlike any other, tonight MI6 and the Treasury had put together some sort of gala type reception for a certain amount of their employees and it would seem I was one of the lucky few to be invited, the only thing is I didn't want to be here.

I wasn't a fan of social events and could barely stand being out of the house past seven o'clock but I hadn't come here for myself, I'd come here for her and she hadn't even shown up yet.

So I stood over in a back corner of the reception hall, that was decked out in people and all sorts of finery, in a floor length pink chiffon dress that was accompanied by a shawl of pink silk and gold details. This would never have been something I'd pick out for myself but it was stunning and I did truly love it.

I'd waited for her, she was supposed to be here a half hour ago and still she hadn't shown up, my only reason for being here not even here, how sad did that sound.

I'd began to get nervous being on my own, surrounded by so many unknown faces. I worried that everyone was judging me and talking about the sad little girl who was hiding in a corner because she'd been stood up.

Suddenly I was teenager again, no longer a woman who worked for MI6 but a sixteen year old, who's only reason for not going to her school leavers event was because she was never asked to go by someone.

It was stupid, I know but that's how it felt, I relied on her to be here, she was my girlfriend and the woman who held my heart and she was already now forty-five minutes late, with about four missed calls and two voicemails.

Those last fifteen minutes of the first hour quickly disappeared and I couldn't stand the idea of taking another glass of whatever it was they were serving tonight. Then the first hour ended and the hand that clasped my clutch was no longer following instructions from my head and was instead searching for my phone.

I dialled the number I could memorise in a heartbeat. One ring, then another, then another one and finally a fourth buzzing ring of the call came and I knew what was coming next. My prediction of course was correct as the call quickly went to that god forsaken voicemail that I'd already heard twice tonight.

"Hi Ves, It's me, I know I've already called but I wanted you to know that I've been here now for an hour," I began to say choking back a sob as I spoke, "I'm wearing the dress you picked out for me, it fits perfectly, but of course it does you chose it. Where are you Ves? you promised you'd be here, I've made sure to save you a dance, though I don't think it will matter. Please show up soon, I love you."

I ended the voice message their and even though I knew it was stupid, I felt my heart inside my chest and how it tightened and shattered a little when she hadn't picked up.

Where was she? I knew she could be late, of course I did, I'd been dating her for two and half years now but she'd never before been this late and it made all sorts of thoughts swirl around in my head, some of them frightened me and others just made me upset.

I quickly became aware of how the music in the room had grown much louder and suddenly I didn't want to be standing here anymore, so I left. I got myself out of that corner I had been standing in and walked of the large gala room and walked out into the reception and arrivals area.

I walked over to the closest wall and, facing away from the entrance, I tried to centre myself once again. Then I heard a voice, at first I thought my mind was playing tricks with me but then I heard it a second time and it was louder and a little bit closer.

"Y/n!" I heard the voice, calling my name, more distinctly now and I knew I'd recognise the soft lull of that voice absolutely anywhere.

In a rush I turned around and stood away from the wall and then I saw her, it was Vesper walking into the venue dressed like the Goddess I knew she was, in the most beautiful purple dress and then I knew I would love her forever.

"Y/n," She said my name again, her smile beaming at me as she came closer and now I could no longer wait for her to close the distance, so I decided to do it myself.

I ran up to her and Immediately threw my arms around her neck and pulled her into the tightest embrace I could muster and then my lips were upon her and without hesitation she kissed me back with just as much passion.

Our lips danced and our tongues battled for dominance, as Vesper’s arms snaked around my waist and brought me in closer into her by the hips and very quickly I knew we'd have to find a room before we were demanded to leave.

It seemed Vesper had had the same thought as very quickly, without barely breaking the kiss, she'd directed us into a room that I didn't care to inspect, all my previous upset and anger dissipated upon seeing her.

Very quickly I was pushing Vesper up against the nearest wall and loosening my arms from around her neck. Though my act of dominance was quickly changed, as Vesper swapped our positions and in a matter of seconds I was up against the wall, and her mouth was trailing kisses down my neck.

"Ves..." I tried to breathe out, "Your here," was all I was able to say that was coherent, as her kisses on my neck continued, though they quickly became softer.

"Of course I did," She spoke breathlessly pulling away, "I'm so sorry sweetheart, i wanted to be here sooner but I had some things to attend to." She didn't elaborate any further, only giving me a final gentle kiss on the lips before she looked up and around the space we were in.

I followed her line of site and saw that we were standing in a stairwell and when I looked up, I could see it went pretty far up. "Come let's go up," She spoke hurriedly, grabbing my hand carefully into her own and pulling us both up the stairs being careful of our dresses.

Soon we had done about five flights of stairs and then Vesper was opening up one of the doors and immediately I was hit by a gust of cold night air. She'd pulled us out onto the roof.

Walking out onto the roof Vesper whispered to me "I believe you saved me a dance," And soon we were dancing to the imaginary music of London city, upon one of its tallest hotels.

"I love you Y/n Y/l/n," Vesper whispered, her forehead against mine and her blue eyes focusing against my Y/e/c ones.

"And I love you, Vesper Lynd," And it seemed those were my final words as both of our lips soon met and we ended the evening with a soft and genuine kiss full of nothing but love.

[goodluckclove]

Hey so, in regards to my last post on electroshock, I'm processing more with my dear friend @ivaspinoza and have concluded that I am upset and need to rant a little about using this as a troupe. It's probably not going to be pretty or encouraging at the end like my usual thoughts on writing, so if you don't want to see me genuinely upset, I'd skip this.

Trigger warning for electroshock, medical trauma, family trauma, unreality. Be safe, friends.

So I read a whump prompt post that threw in "shock treatment" as a possible tactic that would leave a Whumpee "shaking and terrified". No further details on how or why, it was just a single reference as to a thing you can do to a character in your writing. I was surprised to read it, it was the first time I've seen it referenced in the prompt ideas that pop up on my For You page, and over the course of the next hour I proceeded to get more and more upset.

I wasn't planning on doing anything about it. It's frankly a new experience for me to be triggered like this over something I see online. I had no direct interaction with the post because I told myself that the writer just had a severely limited understanding. Maybe they're young. When I was in early high school I would've thought shock treatment was an edgy thing to happen to a person in a piece of media.

And it's that thought that ultimately motivated me to sit you all down and say something you might not realize. Writers, artists, you guys all know that Electroshock Therapy...still happens, right?

It happens a lot. 100K people a year, more or less, according to a singular Google search. It's not common, and it's only used for severe cases, but it is used. And oftentimes it's a pretty big deal. In fact, I'd dare say that it can be permanently and absolutely devastating for a family.

It was for mine.

My mom got ECT for severe depression when I was around 19 years old. From what I know, that's one of the only cases in which doctors will offer it - depression, mania, and schizophrenia that aren't successfully managed by any other means. For a few months my dad would drive her once, sometimes twice a week for treatments. She would have to wear diapers to the clinic they took her to, because since ECT is just the process of inducing multiple small seizures she would often piss herself.

She would not come home shaking. She would come home tired. I don't even think they gave her drugs. I've had a small seizure before, you aren't left twitchy and anxious - you're tired. You want to lie down. She would sit in the backyard in a daze. I would have to tell her to raise her arms so I could cut off her hospital bracelets. She wasn't catatonic, either. She could still hold a conversation and make jokes. In many ways she seemed normal. Just tired, tired, tired. A little absent in a sense.

The mood changes were stark and frightening. She would throw things. Dad told me she shattered a glass elephant I bought her as a present. She would storm into my room and scream at me for no reason. I bought a mini-fridge so I wouldn't have to go into the kitchen when I'd get hungry. If she was terrified, it didn't look like how you'd expect.

I stopped staying at home as often. I would leave the house before she woke up, sleep all day on the couch in the upstairs of a coffee shop that I considered a second home, and only come back once my Dad was back from work. While Mom was undergoing ECT, I was afraid to be alone with her. One night I had nothing else to kill time with, and to avoid going home immediately I skipped taking the lightrail back from downtown and instead biked eight miles on a freeway bike path, alone, at night.

My dad had me stay at my grandmas for a month because I couldn't take it anymore. This probably blew up in his face, as by then Mom forgot why I left. She thought he kicked me out. She kept asking me to come back and telling me she loved me. She did not remember almost kicking me out herself the night before I left.

ECT fucks your short term and long term memory. If you met my Mom she would tell you her depression is cured, and that's because she no longer has any memory of any of her childhood and most of her adulthood. That means, by proxy, she no longer remembers raising me or any of her other children.

I asked my mother if she remembered anything from my life growing up and she said no. For a birthday present that year I wrote all my favorite memories with her because now I'm the only person that knows they actually happened.

And you know what's crazy? Doctors use ECT as a last resort because they don't really know what it does long-term. I'm learning first hand, though. Mom went in for round two of treatment a little over a year later (Did you know ECT has a relapse rate of a little over 50%?) and the results were about the same. But as time goes on her memory is getting worse. When I saw her for the last time, about a month before going no-contact, she was forgetting things I said earlier in a conversation. If she develops early onset dementia I will not be surprised.

Was it worth it? I don't know.

Is it ever worth it? I don't know. I just don't know.

What I do know is that Electroshock is the most impactful thing that has ever altered my life and the lives of my family. More so than Mom's suicide attempt. It is a massive, tragic, terrifying thing. I'm not saying that you can't talk about it in media. Next to Normal does a pretty good job depicting it, and that's because they had the sense to research and ask people with experiences.

People use SA as a trope and understand it's a big deal. People use suicide as a trope and understand it's a big deal. If you're going to mention ECT as a plot point in your story, go ahead, just take the time to actually know what you're saying and doing.

Please. Have some respect.

[lenny-rambles]

About nothing in particular, a bit of Zolu in general, and some fics here and there

Holy smokes, I've had a week. In between exams, my cat getting lost, more exams and work I haven't got the time to actually ramble about anything, which is pretty sad (to me).

HOWEVER.

This doesn't mean to suggest I didn't read anything at all. Oh no, you'd be greatly mistaken to assume that's the case. I devoured a lot of fics this week, in an attempt to release stress because my house was also inhospitable for some days. So, I decided to read and re-read some fics, because that's how I deal with my problems (that is to say, I don't).

It's very interesting to see how their relationship's been depicted through the years! Like, one of my favorite tags for them is "Devotion" (because that's SO them), and the tag's got 60 works, barely. And it was first used in 2019, for a romance fic. That's barely any time at all in OP time! I don't know why though, maybe everyone knew it but struggled to put it into words (like them). As in, everyone would assume right out of the bat that that's their dynamic. Or maybe not! You can never know with fandoms, the fact that Agenda Piece exists still surprises me.

Also, I've grown the habit of reading through an author's works rather than just searching with tags. Like, if there's a fic I really liked I'll go into their profile and read more. And almost every time they have more! It's always a thrill when they have like old works, it comes to show how much they've improved, and how their characterization also evolves with them!

One of my favorite examples of this, that I discovered this week, is the series Fantastic Idiots And Where To Find Them.

Title: Fantastic Idiots and Where To Find Them (series)

Author: Mir4le

Relevant Tags: magic school AU, ASL brothers (my beloved), Law, Zoro, first person POV, on going, maybe there are ships maybe not

Now, disclaimer from me. No one here's endorsing the terf's work as in "go read her stories, they are good", because they aren't. And giving her money in anyway is terrible (in my humble opinion), she poses a lot of terrible ideas for both Trans and Feminism Activism. I hate the woman, and her story is not even that good. She holds A LOT of unethical and incorrect social theories (like eugenics, ew) in her books, AND REFUSES to reconsider or anything. She thrives in the attention she gets from that, I'm sure. Sadly, nostalgia is a bitch, and her books where probably the first I read entirely in english, and through piracy, so I still have some sort of appreciation for them, as terrible works of fiction as they are.

The good news is that the setting is so unbelievably generic that you could say "generic witch society" and that would do just fine, so that's what I'm doing. It's a generic witch society boarding school AU. Ah, the thing. The fic's written in first person POV (sighs), so if that's no your cup of tea you should stay away. The narration improves, the POV never stops being first person. I'm not exactly a fan of first person POV, but I was looking for fic with Law in them, so I picked it up.

Now, the first few chapters where... an experience. They were the author's first work, and you could tell. I don't mean anything mean with that, it's just Difficult to pin the POV for me, so I struggled a bit. Nevertheless, the prompt was interesting enough to keep me going, even if I kinda rushed through some stuff (sorry). It was also noticeable how much the author liked the characters, and the story, even early on, so that also kept me going. Rarely a story loved that much doesn't improve on quality, both because the strive to be better for the story and all the practice they get by putting it out in the first place. So congrats and thank you to the author for your work, it paid off.

Now, another thing about the fic, I'm not exactly what you'd describe a Law fan. I like his story, it was OP most angsty backstory for a while in my opinion (before Kuma, oh Kuma), so that just drew me in. Sadly, it didn't get me like I wanted to. Maybe it's because I binged the anime in an unholy amount of time (another day I'll talk about that) but by the time we got the why of Law, I just wanted Dressrosa to be done. So while I appreciate his character, the anime just made me want to get over with it. All of that to say that I usually avoid fics with Law, because I just don't like him that much. But I stayed. For the potential this had.

And my staying paid off!!!! It was awesome to see another take on ASL, and adding Law to the mix, not through Luffy, but Ace and Sabo was Not something I was expecting! It is also one of the key factors as to why the fic is so entertaining, you keep trying to imagine how the relationships in canon will translate to the setting. I got a lot of them wrong, it keeps you guessing, I love it. The way it shows Law involuntarily warming up to Ace and Sabo is so good. It feels a lot like something 11 y/o Law would write in his diary, it's cute.

Plot-wise it isn't that strong in the first installment (even the author said so), so you are really looking out for character interactions rather than worldbuilding. So it delivers on that, a bit chopped here and there, but by the time you get to the final chapters (there are like, 5) it's way more dynamic.

Ah, I've run out of juice, all right speedrun.

The whole thing, plot and narration improves a lot. Getting to a point in the most recent chapters where I can say that the author nailed down at least Zoro's and Ace's POV to the t, I can't say for Law though, not my area of expertise.

Surprising to no one, I like the Zoro POV chapters best, because we get Strawhat crew, and Luffy and Zoro, and I really like them.

I like the professors and classes they teach they teach. Who is which head of house and all that, nice, very in character.

Whitebeard's kids are a thing here, and I love it, they are fantastic.

Oh, Robin in particular has a lot going for her in the fic, you should also stay for her, if you are a fellow Robin fan.

The shenanigans are AU typical, that's not bad at all, I like how much emphasis they give to pranks and all.

CORAZON IS ALIVE AND WELL, more beautiful things.

Idk, I wish I could tell you more but I kinda read the whole thing for the experience and enjoyed it a lot. Even if it's unfinished.

Oh well, I guess that's it.

Also, "When All the Embers Die" also updated, as well as the other Zoro fic from the same author. And "Treasures for your Treasure (The Pearls Pale in Your Eyes)" ALSO updated, a Zoro update (thanks author) to say the least. I might say some things, I might not, probably I will, once I'm out of this hell hole called midterms.

Anyways, if you read this far thank you very much. Please read the fics mentioned above, even if it's for the experience, they are wonderful stories.