#it's not really a proper fic haha but it was fun to think about

[honeyhotteoks]

do you have any advice on like getting better with writing?

hey! i definitely do!! i’ve talked about this before but i have a lot of new readers, so ill start off by saying i’ve been writing for my entire life, and im 30 so thats a lot of years. if you’re a new writer, trust me i used to be there and good god if you guys could see the stuff i published in old fandoms 💀 really, really bad haha

i only say that because i by no means consider myself a great writer, there are fic writers in this space alone that i’m always so floored by and look up to…. but people have been very kind about my writing style and it’s something that took time to develop it’s not something i just “had”. outside of fic, i was a literature and creative writing major, and got very used to writing and workshopping pieces.

now! onto some actual advice —

1. read a lot and read more, but read stuff you actually like and not stuff you feel pressured to read. i love high brow litfic as much as the next pretentious english major, but i started writing a ton after reading a bunch of kindle unlimited romance because it was fun and it got me inspired

2. watch well written television for dialogue and pacing. people do not talk in proper english, they don’t say things eloquently, and there’s a lot of filler and fluff. that’s good! that’s real, so i love well written tv to show me how it’s done

3. get comfortable writing in weird ways. for years i used to sit down and be like “ah okay so chapter one” and then i was stuck, stalled out, and just felt bad about the process. when i started writing both aurora and tnt, i started in the middle. i had an image of a scene in my mind (for tnt it was actually the claim attempt) and i just wrote it out and then bounced around later

4. outlines are your friend! sometimes i’ll get a random line of dialogue in my head or an image but that doesn’t mean i’m ready to write it. i throw it in one big outline so i don’t lose it.

5. if you’re wanting to write really good smut i have two suggestions but please only do this to your personal comfort level. this is what works for me but do not make yourself uncomfortable— for good smut, i watch porn for reference and for good dirty talk, i listen to nsfw audio. i like to really write the visuals for smut and make it immersive but lol i haven’t experienced everything ive written about and logistics of the body are hard!! i usually find a video or an audio and let that help guide the imagery im writing.

6. be comfortable with the editing process. i know the temptation to post something the minute you finish it is there, but sleep on it. come back and edit it, read the dialogue out loud if you have to. i swear you’ll make the piece better just by leaving it and coming back.

7. don’t be afraid to post. most people are kind, and the worst thing that will happen is you don’t get a lot of notes. that’s okay, it’s a process.

8. research! as i’m writing anything, even a silly little oneshot, im doing research on something. i am hyper aware that im not korean and have never spoken korean or lived in korea, so for my fic i try my hardest to ground elements of that in reality. i truly cannot tell you how many hours ive spent reading like korean case law on revenge porn just for like 3 lines of dialogue. and you don’t have to go that crazy, i’m arguably too intense, but i do think some of that helps the story and the dialogue feel real.

9. describe something real- every place in my writing is based on something real. every apartment, hotel, cafe, venue, etc., they’re all either something i’ve found online or drawn from my life and use that to my advantage. i use apartment listings and save photographs, i do google map walks to see what neighborhoods look like, anything to get the feel of a place or an experience. for the christmas chapters of aurora, i watched hours of gwangju walking tour videos on youtube while i was writing just to understand how to describe their walk in the snow. it really helps me to have a visual that i can put words to.

10. find your weak points and see what other writers do differently. if you want to improve, you should find a small place to start. is it dialogue? overall plot? smut? etc. - i’ll never forget being on a creative writing retreat, and a very important writing professor said to me “everything you write is very pretty but you haven’t said anything. you have to decide to say something.” that feedback hurt, but sent me down a much better writing path when i realized where i was falling short and not challenging myself.

okay i hope some of this was helpful and if it’s a mess im sorry im on mobile. i really just love writing so deeply and will always talk about it, so i hope this was helpful 💗

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker.  I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You think Miguel is avoiding you. 

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point. 

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it. 

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow. 

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.." 

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here." 

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?" 

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?" 

"I don't have time for this-" 

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?" 

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans. 

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks." 

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now." 

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching. 

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-" 

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!" 

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall. 

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly? 

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out. 

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big. 

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm. 

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain. 

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies. 

"What happened?" He strains. 

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-" 

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye. 

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-" 

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple. 

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile. 

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you. 

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?" 

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does. 

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now. 

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?" 

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan. 

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact. 

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-" 

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-" 

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-" 

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it. 

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?" 

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?" 

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. 

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts." 

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears. 

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down. 

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning. 

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before. 

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now. 

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home. 

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time. 

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear. 

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?" 

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?" 

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?" 

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me." 

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me." 

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard. 

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes… 

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.  

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate. 

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you. 

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding. 

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?" 

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?" 

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?" 

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?" 

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?" 

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters." 

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word. 

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface. 

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head. 

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla." 

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning. 

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?" 

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this." 

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you." 

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

_

_

_

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 SNEAKIN' A PIC (ATTEMPT: FAILED)!

FEATURING: fyodor dostoevsky

SUMMARY: you never get to see him like this. is it really so awful that you want to capture the moment eternally? evidently to him, it is. (wordcount: 1.4k; sfw; fem!reader)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: i'll never not make fun of that one panel of him sitting at his computers with his greasy ass hair even if he does look like a pretty princess in every other panel he has. my obsession with naps is being translated into my fics, i already posted a nikolai one posted and also have a dazai one in the drafts HAHA

When you wake up, you feel a weight on your bicep. Your brows furrow a bit in confusion, glancing to your right to where your arm is extended across the bed, but then your eyes fall upon Fyodor, fast asleep and using your arm as a pillow, and you can barely stop the small smile that rises to your lips.

Your arm is numb, but you don’t dare move in fear of waking him up—the clock on your nightstand reads nearly eight am, and you wonder when he finally came to bed last night. You know that he’s been pushing himself day and night to finalize the last parts of his plans, denying himself both sleep and food as he sits at his computers dealing with meetings and preparations 24/7. 

He hadn’t even changed into a pair of pajamas before falling into bed with you, nor had he bothered to get beneath the covers. a part of you wonders if he even meant to sleep, or if he’d just pushed his body too far and only barely made it to the bed before it gave out on him. 

It wouldn’t be the first time. 

You bite back a sigh as your gaze traces over the stubborn man—he always looks delicate in his sleep, in a way that he never does when he’s awake with his eyes shut and his long, dark lashes brushing his cheeks. His expression is the picture of serenity rather than the cold and unapproachable face he wears when he’s awake. 

You think that he’s pretty all the time, but there’s something special about being able to witness Fyodor Dostoevsky in his most vulnerable moments, knowing that you’re the only one he allows to be with him in them. 

You’re half-tempted to reach over to your nightstand with your free hand to try to grab your phone and snap a picture of him. You look over, wondering if you can reach it without jostling your other arm around, but before you can even consider your chances, you hear: “Do not.”

Fyodor’s voice is still thick with sleep. you glance over at him, surprised, but his eyes are still shut, and he hasn’t budged an inch. You wonder if you imagined it, but then his eyes crack open, thin slivers of purple glaring at you.

“Just one for me?” you ask quietly. “No one else will see.”

“No.”

You pout softly but roll back to look at him. He still looks exhausted, the bags beneath his eyes are dark and heavy, and he can barely even hold his eyes open. You reach out, cupping his cheek gently and watching as his eyes slide back shut, a soft exhale spilling from his lips as he lets the side of his face sink back into your arm, dozing back off.

You smile lightly, shifting forward a bit to press your lips to his forehead, stroking his cheek lightly with your thumb.

“I need to get up,” he murmurs, but his eyes are still shut and his voice is thick with sleep. “I need to finish-“

“You will not finish anything adequately in this state,” you chide gently. “If you get proper sleep, you’ll be much more efficient and effective.”

Fyodor looks as if he wants to argue, brows furrowing at your words even with his eyes shut. You only jostle him a bit closer, watching as he shoots you an irate look, but then settles down when he realizes you’re only dragging him closer so that he can rest his head on your chest—a place far more comfortable than your arm.

“Wake me up in an hour,” he finally orders, and you agree absently, knowing that you absolutely will not.

You think, as Fyodor lets himself doze off on your chest, that it’s hard to remember he’s quite literally one of the most dangerous men on this planet. That if he so pleased, he could activate his ability and kill you without a moment’s warning. That he’s a man who is so terrifyingly intelligent that it sometimes comes across as prophetic, and you can’t help but wonder if he speaks the truth when he claims to be led by the Hand of God. 

Your hand smoothes across his back in steady circles, tilting your face down to press your lips to the top of his head. His hair is a bit oily, as he usually lets it get when he deprives himself of basic necessities while he works. You’ll have to convince him to take a bath with you when he wakes up, but you figure it’ll be a battle because you already convinced him to sleep in a little longer, he’ll not want to waste any more time. 

You almost want to pinch him, wondering why everything with him has to be a war when it comes to taking proper care of himself. He rarely even remembers to take his iron supplements on the daily without your prompting, and he knows if he doesn’t take them, he’ll be prone to dizziness and fatigue. For all of his intelligence, you feel like sometimes that you’re a mother dealing with a stubborn child, not your lover. 

“Stop that,” Fyodor sighs, shifting a bit to get comfortable. “Dim your thoughts, dusha moya. I can feel you getting yourself wound up.”

You scowl. “You know, Fedya, maybe you should just drop the whole terrorist plot and become one of those preachers on the radio who pretend to be prophets. Build yourself a cult, make some money. You already seem to know everything, wouldn't be too hard."

Fyodor tilts his head up to look at you, expression so deadpan and unamused that it nearly makes you snort, but you only dip your head down to kiss between his eyes.

"Sleep,” you say, voice softer. “You need it.”

Fyodor doesn’t respond, and when you tilt your head to the side to look at him again, you find that he already dozed back off again, shoulders rising and falling steadily underneath the arm you have wrapped around him. 

You smile lightly and you tighten your arms a bit as Fyodor lets out a puff of air in his sleep, turning his head to lay the side of his face on your chest. In this position, you can see the way his eyes flit beneath his eyelids rapidly, his brain still running rampant even in sleep.

You bring your fingers to his hair to card them through the dark locks, slow and soothing in the way you know he likes, watching as his eye movements slow and his body relaxes into yours. 

Your smile widens a bit before it abruptly falls, laying your head back against the pillow as you finally begin your next challenge: drawing out a battle plan for convincing Fyodor to take a bath with you when he wakes up. 

You sigh to yourself heavily, knowing well that you're about to be facing the most difficult argument of your life with the most stubborn man alive. You can already feel the headache, and you think that you deserve a new picture for your lock screen from how much trouble Fyodor gives you on the daily, but as you side eye your nightstand again and try to calculate whether or not you can reach your phone without waking him up, you feel fingers wrap around your free hand.

You gape in disbelief as you look down to see Fyodor grab your hand in his sleep, as if he knew what you were planning even when not conscious.

Unbelievable, you think bitterly, plan entirely thwarted, but your gaze softens at the sight of him fast asleep on your chest, clutching your hand with one of his.

Maybe you don't need a picture, you realize, because you think there's no way you'd ever allow this image to fade away from your mind.

Still, you think he should severely reconsider his line of work.

Even more so now, in fact, because there is something entirely abnormal about his seemingly perfect foresight, evidently flawless even in his sleep too.

[thursdayinspace]

For the fic title ask game, I’d like to request

• I had you big time

• Graceland

haha, okay, yes. those are one fic. they fit perfectly together.

tagging @today-in-fic

"I've thought about our weekend away," he whispers against her lips, kissing her again. "I've had the perfect idea."

"Oh yeah?" she pulls back far enough to smile at him, nails softly scratching the back of his neck the way she knows he likes. "What were you thinking of?"

"I actually went ahead and set it all up already," he says. "It's a surprise."

"Oh, come on," she begs, "Tell me! I need to know what to pack, at least."

He gets that twinkle in his eyes, the one he gets every time he's excited about something. "How do you feel about Graceland?"

She leans away from him so she can give him a proper firm look, frowning. "Mulder, no. You didn't. Please tell me you didn't."

"I've read this article, I can show it to you. There's actual proof that -"

"No," she says. "No way. Absolutely not."

"It'll be fun, Scully!"

"For you, maybe." She scoots a few inches away, resolutely shaking her head. "I'm going somewhere warm and quiet. I'll send you a postcard."

"But -"

"No."

"Okay, fine." He sighs, sounding dejected. "I'll call the airline and see if I can cancel your ticket."

She almost feels bad, but not bad enough to spend her first long weekend in over a year chasing the ghost of Elvis. "You're actually going?" she asks, disappointment settling heavily in her chest. "We wanted to have some time to ourselves. Just the two of us. I thought that was the plan."

"So did I," he says sadly, and pulls two plane tickets from his back pocket, dropping them onto her coffee table. "Maybe next time."

He gets up in search of her phone, and she slumps back into the couch, trying to resign herself to a weekend on her own. She thought -- Well. It doesn't matter what she thought. Leaning forward, she grabs the tickets from the table to give them an angry glare as if it's all their fault, until she sees . . .

"Mulder?" He turns around to her, phone in hand, gives her a questioning look.

"Yes?"

She holds the tickets up, raising her eyebrows at him. "What are these?"

"Tickets," he says.

"I can see that."

"For our weekend away."

"You know Graceland is in Memphis, right?"

"I know."

"That's not what it says on the tickets."

"I know," he says again, putting the phone down, looking way too pleased with himself. "What do you think about going to the beach instead?"

She barely manages to hold back a smile, doesn't want to let him win this easily. "You can be such a jerk sometimes."

"And you love me anyway."

She does, oh god, she really does. "You're lucky I do."

"I'm well aware of that," he says, coming over to sit next to her and take her hands, and she can never be angry at him, she just can't. He grins at her. "I had you. Big time."

"In your dreams," she says, but she's smiling too.

"I'll tell you about my dreams once we're at our cabin by the sea," he says. "About the ones that feature you, at least."

"Are they good ones?" she asks, and he lifts her hands to his lips.

"The best."

[cerealboxlore]

Can I ask about Brace for Impact? College is killing me too!

Definitely! Sorry for replying to this ask so late, I had to finish an assignment that ended up taking way too long! (why did I take a 3-week class...aaaaaa)

Brace for Impact is the first Billy Batson fic idea I ever had! It's nearly done and just sitting in a google doc of mine, gathering dust for a long while now, but it's time I head back to it.

The idea is about Billy getting braces, and how they impact his personal and superhero life. After being taken in and adopted by the Bromfield family, Billy would likely get taken to doctor appointments to catch up on his medical history and vaccines, so he can have good health after being without a proper doctor/check-up for so long. This would naturally include Billy's first trip to the dentist in years. Fun!

Not for Billy though. After getting cavities and root canals dealt with, he'd be informed by the dentist of his need for braces; something he wasn't too excited for. Mary laughed until she was also told she needed braces.

Now having metal in his mouth, being a part of a new family, and going to a new school, Billy has some trouble settling into his new home life. He's glad he's safe and sound now with a family who cares about him, but it's going to take some getting used to. He isn't used to being cared for.

This would also affect his transformation as Captain Marvel, as he'd think he'd lose them with the power of the living lightning, but to his surprise as the lightning strikes him--jolts of static electricity shock his teeth with a zap! And he opens his eyes as Captain Marvel, who now has braces, too... his days just get worse in his opinion, haha!

It was supposed to be a comedic one-shot idea about the agony of braces as a kid, but it spiraled into comedy with angst sprinkled into it. I also really wanted to write about Captain Marvel not smiling and the people of Fawcett and his superhero friends noticing and wanting to know why. Did something happen to their happy, bubbly friend? Is he in a rare bad mood? Why isn't he talking?? Who do they have to beat up?! But it's just because he's embarrassed at having braces in his Captain Marvel form, too. I should work more on this one.

[writing-whump]

Hey Sol! 💫

It's the dessert question anon. I know this prompt doesn't really fit in the current situation but, later on, can we please get something with Arnie and Matt? We got all the other interesting or rather unconventional pairings like Hector and Matthew, Seline and Hector, Arnie and Seline, but we have yet to see those two truly interact 👀

Btw I don't think I have seen this emoji around, but if there is another anon who signs with this, please let me know and I'll change it asap!!

- 🍰

Haha that's a nickname with fun context. Dessert is all yours!!✨️ Thank you for the prompt💙

This is also the 💫100th💫 fic and the official start of the vacation arc🏖

100. Airport troubles

"Remind me why I have to tag along with you guys again?" Arnie said for like the third time as they made their way through the airport.

Matthew was walking behind him, so he rolled his eyes openly. God, the kid was a handful.

"You wouldn't want to get dragged into pup training, would you?" Seline said quickly. "This way, Isaiah can train Rip on the way, Dylan can learn some tricks and since Hector graciously offered to help-"

Oh yeah, Hector was oh so gracious. Maybe he just wanted to avoid the fucking airport.

Honestly, Matthew didn't know why he wasn't in the car either. He could help with training Rip? At least with the sparring part? And who was going to look out for Isaiah during the 4 day drive it took to Bulgaria?

And he could have skipped the crowd in the hall.

Though Seline picked the earliest flight as possible—they were already at the airport at 4 am—it was still crawling with people. Happy families, crabby teenagers, loud babies.

Matthew's skin was itching. He couldn't help rolling his shoulders back repeatedly and it took all his strength to not jump everytime someone bumped into him or walked too close on accident.

The only way to avoid people completely at Vienna Airport would be by climbing the ceiling.

Another elderly man bumped into him, nose almost touching his phone screen, eliciting a shudder from Matthew. Why didn't he ask Isaiah to roll his shadow for the flight? This was torture.

Seline's hand suddenly hooked around his elbow and she leaned her weight against him. "Look, that's our control check that way. We'll be out of here in no time."

Arnie also wore a constant pout, grumbling about not getting first class and being left out when his brothers were having fun.

Matthew suppressed a sigh as they got into the queue. Trying to be nonchalant, he leaned over to take a deep breath of Seline's ozonic grapefruit scent, the air brushing against her silver blond hair. An ancherpoint of familiarity in the sea of chaos.

"You'll get your cabin bag up on the stripe yourself. They will only touch it when they move it forward. Once it goes through the box, it's all yours," Seline said, side of her face brushing against his shoulder.

Matthew glanced towards Arnie, flushing a little. "I know." He had seen movies with airports before.

Arnie snorted. "What? You have never been to an airport before?"

Matthew flushed a little more. So he never had a reason to fly, big deal. Airports and stations and everything crowded was a challange for wolves. He preferred to drive, bike or take empty night trains over flights any day.

"Shouldn't you have gone with the pups after all?" Arnie teased as he expertly unpacked his laptop and tablet and ereader out the bag. Why did he need so many devices was beyond Matthew's understanding.

Seline had a delicate frown on. "Don't be mean now. Matthew didn't have proper wolf training in his pack."

Which didn't make Matthew feel any better. Arnie gave him another ridiculous look as he moved forward to get through the security check.

Matthew quietly fumed his way through the procedure, partly comforted and partly emebrassed by Seline waiting for him and hanging herself on his arm again.

"I have saffron drops for nerves," Seline whispered in his ear.

Matthew nodded tightly and looked away. He wanted to be able to do this on his own, no meds needed. Though Seline was their local medical expert, she also liked using lots of herbs and drops and natural remedies like teas and leaves whenever she could.

It would probably help. He could try taking it when Arnie was out of earshot.

They finally made their way to a row of chairs near the right gate that wasn't open yet. Since Bulgaria was Seline's family favourite destination she moved around the airport with practiced ease. Her parents even offered them to borrow three apartments they rented over the summer next to each other for free.

Matthew promptly collapsed on the chair nearest to the window, taking deep measured breaths.

Seline sat beside him, watching like a hawk. Her hand was firmly planted on his forearm.

Arnie eyed them critically. "You gonna be buzzkillers the whole time? We have at least a whole hour left. Let's get some breakfast."

Seline bit her lip in consideration. "We can get food and eat it here together. I'll bring you a croissant, Matt?"

Matthew grumbled, wishing Isaiah was here. Or anyone who would offer to get the food so that Seline could stay sitting like this next to him, shielding him from the masses of people.

Arnie's eyes glittered knowingly, but the snide twist to his mouth betrayed he wasn't up to feeling any sympathy.

Arnie wasn't a person to offer anything, even if he caught the hint. He was observant, Matt would give him that, but for all his insight and knowledge about wolves, he still opted to be provocative and mouthy instead. He knew how hard it made things and he still did it. What was up with that?

Was Arnie really that mad for not being able to go with his brothers, taking his anger out on them?

At least Hector was blunt and predictable in his remarks and challenges. Matthew could get behind that. Isaiah was a generous caretaker from his soul. None of them seemed as petty and jealous as Arnie.

"Meet you here in 20 minutes?" Seline suggested.

Arnie scoffed. "Not much time is that? I wanna check the boutiques and get a good coffee."

"It's half five in the morning," Seline said.

"All the more. We had to get here at this crapy hour for Mr Second here. I don't wake up before 10, thank you. If I am to function I need a frappe."

Fortunately it didn't take long for Seline to return with a plain croissant and some tea. She didn't mention Matthew stayed at the seats, sitting on his arms to keep his jumpy reaction and shadow in check.

Matt felt guilty for the service, but immensely thankful to have something in his stomach.

Arnie took way more than 30 minutes to get there, sporting a large transuclant plastic cup inside another one with the frappe and melting ice.

Seline wrinkled her nose. "You had two?"

Arnie shrugged. "How else do I survive? Maybe they will have coffee on the flight too."

"Did you at least eat anything?"

"No hungry. And what's that to you anyway? I'm 18, you know?" Arnie said in a tone like that really made him an adult.

Spoiled little brat. How did someone rough like Hector even manage that? Matt was definitely throwing that in his face when they saw each other.

"The gate just opened." Seline was squinting on the far away timetable screen, one of her hand resting on Matthew's knee. "We have priority seats, so we can go sooner if we want...but maybe you better enjoy the view a bit longer?"

"I'm gonna be fine. Closed up spaces aren't a big deal."

"Yeah, but there will be lots of people. Though the priority seats also mean we have more leg space and you can sit by the window-"

Matthew smiled, his hand coming to rest on top of hers. "Sel. It's fine. Thank you."

She nodded, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "You are doing great for your first time. I'm proud of you."

Matthew rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks turn red as his hair again. "Don't-don't say nonsense, there is nothing to be proud of."

"If he was half his age, maybe," Arnie added. He sat a few seats away from them, fidgeting with the empty cups with jittery fingers.

Seline rolled her eyes and stood up. "Last bathroom break. I'll be right back."

Matthew had to chuckle at how she couldn't look at either of them as she said it, trailing away. Still so easily flustered about such things.

A loud rumbling gurgle caught his attention then. Since people lined up to the gate, it was just him and Arnie left in the row by the windows.

Arnie sat hunched over himself, staring at the ground like he was trying to burn it. He kept licking his lips, rocking back and forth a little.

It was Matthew's turn to snort. "Bathroom break for you too? So much coffee on empty stomach was so adult of you." Not that Matt never made that mistake.

"Shut up," the blond said. His earlier pouty high attitude burst like a balloon and he got pale as a sheet in just a couple of minutes.

The kid rocked back and forth again, shaking the backpack off his shoulders and hugging his stomach with both hands. "Ow, okay, that hurtsss."

"Stupid," Matthew said, leaning back in his seat. "You better hurry up before you shit your pants. Plane's leaving soon."

"Asshole," Arnie said. His blond curls were sticking to his forehead with sweat. He shot up to his feet, leaving his bag behind and sprinted towards the bathrooms.

Matthew grinned to himself, pleased with how fate got back at the kid for him.

...it wasn't that funny half an hour later, when the last call for passengers appeared. Matt and Sel stood at the gate, looking around themselves in hopes of spotting Arnie.

"Damn this timing," Matthew complained, Arnie's backpack now thrown over his shoulder beside his own. "Think you can talk with the attendant to wait a bit more?"

"Can't hurt to ask. But we better not split up anyway. We can always take the next flight."

"And let the tickets go to waste?" Matt grimaced. "No way. I'm gonna drag that kid over. Just don't fly without me."

He left the bags at her feet and made his way to the bathroom, glad he knew which one Arnie went to.

When he entered the surprisingly large white room with rows and rows of stalls, he was greeted with the horrible retching sound and a liquid splash.

"Arnie? You in here?" Matt headed to the stall with the noise, knocking on it.

"G'way," Arnie groaned.

Matthew sighed. "No can do. Come on, kid, we're gonna be late."

Another loud belch and more liquid splattered inside the bowl. Matt pushed against the door experimentally, finding it open.

Arnie was hunched over the toilet, a large sweaty stain in the middle of his back. The foul smell had Matthew's hair standing up.

He crouched down behind the boy, trying to get a glimpse of his face. "Still bad?"

"My stomach's fucking killing me," Arnie whined in the most undignifed manner, spitting into the toilet. His nose and eyes were running, his face a mix of liquids.

"You can sit at the plane and heave over an airsickness bag too. You can't have anything left there, it was just the coffee-"

Arnie's back heaved violently at the word and he gagged over and over the bowl like crazy. A meager but chunkier gush came out. He suddenly pitched to the side.

"Fuck, no you don't-" Matt was glad for his reflexes as he caught Arnie from behind.

"...dizzy."

"That's some serious sugar low," Matthew grumbled. It felt awkward to touch Arnie. He felt very strange to Matt's shadow and he wasn't exactly thrilled to be sitting in that small space with him.

Matthew gathered some toilet paper and handed it over, steadying Arnie with a hand on his shoulder.

Arnie blinked at him in confusion, accepting the papers and blowing his nose loudly. He was very noise for his small stature.

The big green familiar eyes in the foreign face felt even weirder to Matthew.

Arnie moaned pathetically, letting the crumbled paper fall on the floor and curling around his middle again. By the loud growls it was making, even on empty it was still plenty upset.

"Want some water?" Matthew tried.

Arnie gagged at the mention, pressing his chin against his chest. He shut his eyes again, face drained for colour even more.

"Shit," Matt muttered. He flushed the toilet then brought the larger towels for hands, cold with wet water and pressed them against Arnie's forehead.

"J-just go ahead. I'll catch up. Next flight's in six hours and I have-" he burped, eyes still shut, "I have the money, it's fine."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "That's what you would deserve, you little prick. Whatever. Not gonna leave you like this. You absolutely sure you can't go yet? It'll probably let up in a bit."

Arnie shook his head. "C-can't. My insides feel like they are about to fall out."

Matthew grimaced and nodded. "Okay. It's fine. I'm gonna text Sel about, ehmm, the situation. She probably has some herb drops to help, if you want."

Arnie opened his bleary red-rimmed eyes. "You really don't have to stay."

"Shut up. Who do you think I am? Ain't gonna leave Isaiah's little brother behind when sick."

Arnie snorted, face relaxing a little. "Not cause Hector would have your head?"

Matthew scoffed. "I'm not afraid of that idiot, stupid."

[ozzgin]

Gosh I love your yandere!bodyguard x idol!reader, especially how she seems a bit sadistic; it’s so cute and the fics are so well written. I just finished part II of the fanfic and I kid you not, I got butterflies in my stomach. How about a scenario where reader on purposely flirts with other men, just to tease the bodyguard? Maybe she’s in a mood to witness a little bloodshed, and is curious to see how her bodyguard will deal with his jealousy? Thank you so much, all your works are amazing :) have a wonderful day!! <3

I’m very happy you liked it! 🩷

Your scenario idea had me thinking, would the bodyguard be upset if Reader tried to flirt with others? I mentioned in a previous post that Reader knows her bodyguard better than anyone else. So then it would make sense that it goes the other way around, too. What I’m trying to say is, all the innocence and fear displayed by Reader is really more of a show and they both go along with it. The bodyguard is very much aware that Reader is rather sadistic, deeply enjoying his violent acts, and it could be one of the reasons he likes her so much. He’d be tempted to say it’s a match made in heaven.

So it wouldn’t exactly be anger or jealousy. He’d probably smile to himself, finding it cute that Reader went all the way out to tease him (he knows she’d never leave him) and he’d be extra creative with his victims in order to please her. Naturally he’d act devastated, similar to how Reader pretends to be scared for her life. But in reality he’s having a lot of fun with her gory games.

I was trying to come up with a proper story for this and coincidentally star anon 🌟 just sent me a brand new request a few hours ago, haha. I think it has the perfect context for your jealousy idea, so you can expect it covered in the third part! Myself, I’m a bit clueless when it comes to idol themes. The only idol anime I’ve ever watched was, well, a parody. Gokudols, where three yakuza brothers massively fuck up and are forced by their boss to get reassignment surgery in Thailand to become idols and bring money to the Family. So I am grateful for all of your prompts, saves me a lot of work in a field I’m not too knowledgeable about. :)

[freyafrida]

how certain the journey special DVD bonus features

LOL this is a thing i did on my old blog when i first finished come back home ages ago, and I thought it would be fun to do again :> kind of, different format this time around. more notes and fun facts!

General inspo for this fic: besides, obviously, the desire to write something happy and shippy after reading Rilla of Ingleside, I always go back and forth on Walter's death. There are times when I think it's a little too easy, you know? On the one hand, I get why it had to happen, symbolically, why Walter is the one who has to die: he's the only one who grasps the full scope and horror of the war, who knows what he'd be sacrificing, he's the kindest and most sensitive character, he has the potential to be great and famous, he's the protagonist's favorite brother, etc. Of course he has to die.

ON THE OTHER HAND. Walter's last letter sometimes feels a little too neat to me, too -- life will never be beautiful for him again, so it's better that he dies anyway; he goes out in that "white flame of sacrifice", thinking that at least he has made the world better, that it's worthwhile. And, well. Those of us in the future know that's not really how it worked out.

Even all that aside -- Walter is romantic, otherworldly; the books repeatedly remark that he's not meant for this world or to grow up and do mundane things like get an office job and pay taxes and live to see, idk, space flight and rock music. So...sometimes I think it would be more interesting for Walter to live, to have to adjust to the postwar world, to have to cope with preparing himself to die and thinking at least he doesn't have to live with all he's seen...only to find out that, surprise, he does.

What always interests me about Walter and Una -- about the Blythes and Merediths in general, really -- is that the Meredith kids have a much harsher upbringing than the Blythes, even if the books rarely (if ever?) acknowledge it. Walter talks to Rilla of being happy before the war, with their home and parents; the Blythes' adventures in Rainbow Valley and Anne of Ingleside are all fairly harmless and twee. On the other hand, the Merediths' story in Rainbow Valley is sprinkled with death and hunger and neglect (even if it all gets wrapped up with And Then Rosemary Marries Rev. Meredith and Everything is Fine). Una in particular is very sensitive to the loss of her mother, and moreover she knows things in her house aren't right, that people talk about the Merediths for having a chaotic house and the children never being dressed properly.

So Walter and Una's dynamic interests me on that level! For survived-the-war!Walter/Una, I don't think it's as simple as Una healing Walter through being gentle or whatever. Rather, I think they're simply able to find common ground in knowing the world can be ugly and painful and randomly cruel. Walter doesn't have to hide that from Una the way he might with his sisters and other friends; they can be honest with each other, and that's where their relationship grows from.

This fic owes a lot -- a lot a lot -- to "Keeping Faith" by m_shell and "The Piper" by Una-Blythe! (I'll do a proper fic rec post one day, haha.) "Keeping Faith" is really the Walter/Una fic for me, it's tonally so perfect and gentle and aching. (Fully borrowed Walter's injury from this fic because I couldn't improve on it! I did toy with having him be blind, or having a face injury, but felt I wasn't writing about it convincingly.) I also really liked how Walter in "The Piper" is actually quite bitter, and how he and Una don't end up with ten kids and a perfect family at the end. Big inspiration there. (Also fully borrowed incorporating LMM's other characters into the fic from "The Piper" -- the Blue Castle reference in ch. 19 of Come Back Home came from there!)

Other big influence was weirdly George Mallory?? I read a couple of biographies about him and other 1900s dudes for ~research~ but ended up being particularly interested in Mallory's life (coincidentally, they found the boot of his climbing partner, Sandy Irvine, just this year). That also got me thinking about Walter's legacy, how "The Piper" (the poem) and his fame might impact his life later on. The epilogue was also inspired by interviews with Mallory and Irvine's descendants and how they try to remember their famous great-grandparents/great-uncles later on. (This interview with Mallory's daughter was one of the things I read and found really interesting.)

I think, realistically...if Walter had lived, his fame would probably wane. I don't imagine he would ever write anything quite as timely as "The Piper" ever again. I also think his creative output would probably be sharpest when writing about the war, and he'd end up in a struggle between selling his work to an audience who was generally sick of war poetry, but not being able to write as powerfully about anything else. I think, too, that people would be more enamored of a young soldier who wrote one powerful poem before dying in the war -- someone who lives, writes many other works that are overshadowed by that one poem, and spends the rest of his life being bitter about said war is less romantic. I can imagine Walter also unintentionally suppressing "The Piper"'s fame by refusing to let it be used for things or refusing to recite it. (I did end up referring to "In Flanders Fields" as though it exists in the universe alongside "The Piper" -- if "The Piper" replaces IFF as the big poem of the war, I can imagine IFF's fame overtaking it later in life due to McCrae's death.)

I think, too, that Walter, if he lived, would sort of hold himself back in life. I don't mean for it to come across as disappointment or a negative thing, necessarily, in the fic -- I wanted it to be bittersweet; that yes, he doesn't get all that he wants or dreams of, but he sees giving it up as a way to atone and live with himself. (I think it's totally possible, in another life, that he lives in Jazz Age Paris and is a famous poet and has a bunch of messy, destructive relationships that interest biographers just as much as his work, and he's maybe a better artist for never making peace with himself, but he's also not happy.) He knows what he's capable of, the things he's done. I definitely think he...I don't want to say "committed war crimes" haha, but did some things he wasn't proud of, at the front, not really caring about consequences because he was fully expecting to die. I think he'd sort of -- slightly self-centeredly, because Walter can be selfish -- see his own capacity for violence as symbolic of what led to the war and work to suppress it in himself, in his life. I think having a quiet life, giving love to the people around him, would be again a way of atoning and proving to himself that he's capable of kindness instead of destruction. Postwar Walter fully believes he's the worst person ever like THIS IS THE SKIN OF A KILLER, UNA

Um. What else? Some other fun facts:

Was kicking around the idea of finishing this in 2022-2023 because it was nearly fully 10 years since Come Back Home was finished but I was also like "lol probably won't happen" but then got a v. nice ask from @batrachised and was like "Oh man people are still out here!! I could actually finish it!!" so big thanks there and to everyone who kept reminding me to finish <333333

Really meant to write more Jem in here but he just kept...not being relevant, SORRY JEM.

I got a couple of comments back in the day asking if the fic would save Stripey from being drowned by Bruce and I meant to get to it but couldn't really find room for it. One day, another fic, etc. (I was coming down on the side of still killing Stripey, SORRY STRIPEY, because I think it's such a perfect and tragic encapsulation of the book's certainty that sacrifice is worthwhile, because it has to be, and then you're reading it 100 years later like "oof.")

Walter having a school in Saskatoon named after him actually came out of researching Midnighters fic for the character of Jessica, and seeing that a good chunk of schools in Chicago were named after people with zero connection to the city whatsoever.

Came up with most of the first story in the bath and am wondering if this was harder to write simply because I don't have a bathtub anymore 🤔

i meant to take a photo showing my drafts of come back home and how certain the journey side by side, but can u believe, I LEFT MY WRITING NOTEBOOK AT WORK LOL. Fortunately there's nothing too crazy in there, apart from the reveal that I write fanfic and also some original fiction that probably reveals far more of my psyche than I want it to 😅 so i only have my old-ass notebook from 2012 on hand, NOTEBOOK RETRIEVED! here's how it started (my handwriting was v. v. jank 12 years ago) and the last few things i wrote:

anyway thank you again everyone for entertaining me and this fic all the way until the end i love you all <3333333

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Your Friendly Neighbourhood Cryptid

Roman is determined to prove that his friend Patton's fears of a spider cryptid in the forest was unfounded, so joined by his best friend (and maybe crush) Janus, he ventures into the forest at night. Surprisingly, the night takes a surprising twist.

----

| Ao3 |

Warnings: Spider imagery, slightly creepy, and one slightly suggestive comment right at the end but nothing like, bad.

Pairings: Anaroceit

Word Count: 1336

Notes:

Hello everyone!!

This is a very short little fic for day 2 of @anaroceitweek!! This is for the prompt 'Conspiricy' which makes me think of Cryptids haha, and Cryptid Virgil is very very fun :3

This is a very silly short fic I wrote in one sitting haha - I still really like it though! I hope you do too :3

----

“Why are we out here again?” Janus drawled as he pushed back a tree branch with his gloved hand, climbing over a root in the dark. Roman shone his flashlight down so that they could see where they were walking. The forest behind the suburbs where Roman lived was fairly thick and mostly unmanaged, so there weren’t any proper paths to follow.

“You’re the one who chose to come out here with me,” Roman huffed as he climbed down a little ridge, “You didn’t have to be here.”

“Oh certainly not, but seeing your face when Patton is proven right will be worth it I’m sure,” He said with a shrug and a grin as Roman shot a glare behind him at his best friend/maybe crush. It was hard for Roman to see in the darkness, so he wasn’t entirely sure exactly where Janus was, but he was sure that he’d seen the glare. 

“Well you’ve wasted your time, then, because I’m right,” He said, hopping onto a boulder and then hopping to another one, “There are no weird creepy horrifying spider cryptids out here in this forest.”

“Careful,” Janus said, making Roman stop just before he walked face first into a giant spider web. 

“Oh haha,” Roman said, turning so he could walk around the other side of the tree the web was attached to, “Next you’ll be telling me the spider creature made that.”

“Mhm,” Janus nodded, grinning a little as Roman frowned.

Well… there were certainly a lot of webs in this forest, Roman had never actually come this deep before. He was determined, however, to prove to his friend Patton that there were no scary spider creatures in the forest out to get him. For some reason Janus, who seemed to believe Patton’s theories for whatever reason despite how unfounded they were, had come along as well. 

Roman heard something that sounded like a distant clicking and a woosh, as though something had run past. Turning to look in the direction of the sound, however, gained him nothing, even as he swept his flashlight around the clearing they were in. Other than the number of spiderwebs present, he saw nothing, and dismissed it as some kind of woodland creature, maybe a possum, those were creepy as hell. 

“I wonder what that was,” Janus said, in a tone that Roman thought sounded incredibly condescending and honestly that was just unnecessary. 

Roman shrugged anyway, though, “Probably just a regular, normal forest creature.”

“Mmmhm, if you say so,” Janus shrugged. The clicking sound was back, followed by a soft rumble and another few clicks, Roman whipped around, trying to figure out the source of the sound. 

After a long moment of silence, Roman yelped and reeled back a little as his eyes met another pair in the underbrush - a pair with piercing white pupils and softly glowing purple irises - plus black sclera, as if that wasn’t creepy enough already. 

“What the fuck…” Roman whispered as he noticed a second, third and fourth pair of the same eyes open, he took a step back and ended up grabbing onto Janus’ arm.

“Hello there,” Janus said, only then did Roman realise he was smirking, “You can come out, he won’t hurt you.”

Roman’s eyes widened as he looked from Janus to the eyes. He wouldn’t hurt it?? He was slightly more worried about the other way around, actually. 

In a way that was almost shy, the creature stepped into Roman’s torch beam, making him gasp. 

He was humanoid and tall - taller than both Janus and Roman by a long way. Roman thought he must be at least seven foot tall - he had to have been crouching before. 

His hair was pitch black, but the texture looked to be curled, almost frizzy. In the light of the torch Roman could see that his skin was mostly a light, pastel purple, through which darker veins could be seen, making his skin look almost like marble, though down his arms his skin got darker and darker - until at his fingertips it was pitch black. His limbs too were oddly proportioned, in a way that looked just ‘off’ to Roman, he looked like a person, he was shaped like a person, but his arms and legs were too long and it gave Roman an odd uncanny feeling as he looked at him. Mostly, though, he was just…. Incredibly intrigued. 

“Woah,” Roman said softly, staring wide eyed, “You’re uh… real?”

“Last I checked?” He said, seeming… weirdly nervous as all eight of his eyes blinked. Roman thought he should have probably found it creepy, the cryptid - because that’s the only thing that it could have been (Roman might have been wrong, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud).

“You’re… beautiful,” He said, to the surprise of basically everyone there as he slowly detached from Janus to approach. The spider guy looked shocked as Roman walked up, circling him before stopping to look up at him, “Wow…” He said softly.

“Wh-what?” the creature said, turning his head to track Roman but not fully turning around. Janus was smirking in the background, “Hey - you cut it out, stop smirking at me.”

“I told you he’d like you,” Janus said, sounding very smug. Roman looked back at him. 

“You were in on this?” He asked, glaring at him, “You knew?”

Shrugging, Janus walked over, placing a hand on the spider’s arm, “Well I’d hope so, considering we’re dating.”

“You what??”

“Are you gonna be surprised by everything?” The spider guy asked, tilting his head.

“Well- I- yeah, actually, I am!” He said, eyes wide, the cryptid startled a little bit, “I just found out the spider cryptid in the woods is real and apparently dating my best friend!”

“And beautiful, don’t forget that,” Janus hummed, Roman went bright pink.

“I- Oh my god, I’m sorry-” He said, looking between Janus and the thing, “I didn’t mean to hit on your cryptid boyfriend.”

With a snort, Janus shook his head, even the spider was smiling.

“It’s fine,” He said, “And I’m Virgil, by the way - um, if you really want to hit on me you can.”

“What.”

“I mean, I’m just saying, I don’t mind,” He defended, “I mean - it’s fine if not, I know you humans are weird about monogamy sometimes, but-”

“No no no - that’s not the problem,” Roman said, raising his hands, he was perfectly happy with polyamory, he’d experimented with it before in a relationship and found it appealed to him (though the lack of communication in that particular relationship had put him off a while)

“I’m okay with it too,” Janus said, “If that’s the problem, you are… fine.”

“That’s Janus talk for ‘I like you’,” Virgil translated, making both Janus and Roman turn beet red. 

“So, wait,” Roman said, putting up his hands, “Let me figure this out.”

Both of them nodded. 

“So you,” He gestured to Virgil, “Are a spider cryptid who lives out here in the woods?”

“Mhm,”

“And you,” He gestures to Janus, “Are dating him?”

“Yes,” Janus nodded.

“So…. was this whale thing just a ploy to get me out here?”

“Potentially,” Janus smirked, Roman groaned, “Well - Patton’s fears are very real, of course, and him asking you for help was simply convenient, so I talked to Virgil about it - because normally you wouldn’t have found anything.”

“He told me he had a really cute friend he thought I’d like who was coming out ‘cryptid hunting’ in the forest tonight so I agreed to actually show up.”

“And?” Roman asked.

“And…?”

“And… do you like me?” Roman asked, leaning forward a little, Virgil smirked.

“Yeah,” He said with a shrug, “I believe so, do… you like me? Janus said you would.”

Smirking, Roman nodded, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do - but uh… I’ve never dated a cryptid before…”

“Oh trust me, it’s a lot of fun,” Janus grinned, making Virgil blush a deeper, richer purple colour. Roman giggled.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 ( if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[ping-ski]

Hewwo!!! :3 I hope you are having an amazing day, here is a whole plate of cupcakes! Would it be possible for you to share a few lore details about your Eclipsed By You AU story? I keep looking at the designs and I am so curious about what will be happening, I would wish to nibble on tiny lore crumbs, pretty please?

ama!! hihi! ! i meant to answer your ask much sooner! anyways, since you asked so nicely (and because i am pathetically weak to any sweets </3) prepare for some SERIOUS yappage under that cut

✦ AuDHD demands that I explain EBY origins before any details but you can totally skip this if you want! (Scroll till you see blue text! :3) So... Eclipsed By You was intended to be au/fic just for myself after work when I first got into DCA. I literally was pantsing a self-insert fic from just gameplay, voicelines, and a collection of scenarios I wrote in my notes app before I actually interacted with the DCA fandom lol. I was already in the process of writing it to be a proper fic and planned to make an AO3 acc to post it! I took some time away from it tho cause I got busy irl. During my break I did start to interact more the fandom! The first proper DCA fic I read was 'Solar Lunacy' by BamSara a few months back as a recommendation from a mutual I had from another fandom. I had told them about my fic idea and they suggested I read the fic as my fic had reminded them of SL. After reading through, I was kind of bummed initially because I really didn't think I had anything unique to offer with my own fic that I was hoping to share. I stopped writing it cause damn comparison truly is the thief of joy. SL and EBY had similar ideas going on and I just didn't feel like it was worth posting my fic cause it didn't feel "special" to me anymore. It was easy to give up since writing is really not my strong suit at all, so then I fell back to just drawing! I only came back to it despite the 19 other DCA aus I have lined up rn cause honestly I remembered that wrote it for my own enjoyment! Why did that have to change? Albeit, I did scrap lots of what I initially wrote and started fresh cause my interpretation of DCA changed. Regardless, EBY was always going to be a self-indulgent DCA/Reader fic taking place at the Pizza Plex. Sure not anything original, but that's just a fact of being a creative in general tbh. I felt silly when I realized that haha. I'm having fun and they make me smile, so who cares if its been done before lol. I still enjoy Solar Lunacy and still am a fan of BamSara! (the cotl content has been fueling me lmao)

✦ Some bits on Eclipsed By You- The main part of your ask lol! ✿ On the au/fic name: I actually stole it from another au (of the many) I have. No particular reason for it! I was writing EBY and that au around the same time and alternated working on the two throughout the day. That au is now nameless (actually it's nicknamed "Messiah" as I type) cause EBY grew onto me for what it is now! ✿ On DCA's designs: This might be kind of disappointing lol but- there isn't much of a lore/plot reason for their designs? They just look that way cause... why not :3 It's also part of just how I interpret DCA into my artstyle. Otherwise, they can be interpreted as the canon designs early on! Atleast until some future upgrades! ✿ When in SB are we? Everywhere /hj. EBY will have some pre-virus and post-virus stuff just for funsies! I'm dying to yap but if I say anymore I will get carried away 100%. ✿ On EBY!Eclipse: For this au, Eclipse is his own "person" you could say. With his own AI and personality chip to pair! Carefully built to be a dedicated host and theater bot. He is, including Sun and Moon, the entertainment <3. They are a singular animatronic in this fic! (like those 3 in 1 soaps except it's DCA /j) ✿ On EBY!Y/N: (EBY is a reader-insert, but intended to be written as gender neutral and an adult.) Y/N gets their own bit of lore and issues that may or may not be the stress/frustration from my 2 irl jobs thinly veiled lmao. They work part-time at the Plex as a general theater staff member! Each week, their tasks rotating between concessions, being an usher, and working along side the theater bots! (Kind of like a theater tech.) This is a part-time job just to keep them afloat while they work on their last bit of certifications and training to be a caretaker! They are pretty passionate about helping those in need. A sweetheart honestly. Though, if you don't like kids, maybe look away. Wholesome moments with the littles and DCA + Y/N is pretty decent with kids themselves. (Lots of projection from my own experiences working with children and elderly, as a caregiver turned caretaker. I kind of want to highlight some of my experiences with Y/N.) ✿ On EBY!Sun and Moon: These two are goofballs alongside Eclipse through and through. They all get to be sweet, soft, and doting I promise. Originally, before scrapping a good chunk of the og writing, EBY had a beloved sweetheart anxous Sun and aggressive Moon who was kind of an asshole(Before the rewrite, EBY felt so different. Like everyone was just tolerating eachother and fragments being held together with glitter glue n' dreams. I am very very glad it's different now lol.) Eclipse stayed fairly consistent though. Sweet house husband that he is. Now, Sun is just as unhinged as Moon (making him just as much as a threat!), but we will persevere with the power of friendship <3 We're gonna have some aloof Sun moments. He takes his job pretty seriously! Some goofy Moon bits who's giggles are light and airy. He is very unserious I fear. They're both trying their best, in their own ways. There's not much I can say rn without spoiling haha. It's hard to stay vague hrm. Or atleast I can't think of anything specific to add right now. (I may be able to answer some specific questions if you have any, my brain is just foggy rn) ✿ I'm simplifying it down to your "typical pizza plex fic" with pre-virus and post-fire shenanigans. I'm sorry if none of that is telling I can't think of anything specific cause I'm pretty sleepy rn so maybe it's a little boring sounding but I love it anyways haha Expect some canon-typical violence and non-sexual intimacy! I have intentions on writing the relationship between Y/N and DCA ambiguous so it can be seen as queerplatonic or romantic. (But this could very easily changed, I'm a shameless robokisser sigh.)

[timperi-fan]

Your timperi playlist is so good!!!! I wasn't expecting some of the song choices but they fit so well???? and it was fun trying to guess from wich pov they were and how they fit in the fic's story.

Its a little silly, but I got a bit excited when I played the songs that I already knew, thinking of them in the context of this ship/fic. Like, little talks??? amnesia??? HURTS LIKE HELL???? PLEASE DON'T SAY YOU LOVE ME????? I WANNA ME YOURS????? PINK!!! IN!!! THE!!! NIGHT!!!?????

I'm truly obsessed with this playlist <3

Also, Rewrite the Stars being there made me think of that one scene people used to redraw as their own ships when the movie first came out (I think it was Zack Efron and Zendaya's characters first meeting, idk I haven't actually seen the movie xD) and I couldn't help thinking about Timmy and Peri in that scene, someone should draw that *winkwink*

Also! The cover art is really cute, could you tell me where you found it?

(also!! i just saw your new post about ILITAYH and i'm. so. excited!!! -especially for the horniness and the tears ;) )

Link to the playlist.

Thank you so much, anon!! 🥺 I spent DAYS getting that playlist exactly perfect (instead of actually writing the fic, whoops) so I am so glad to see others enjoying it!!

Some songs are from Timmy's POV, some are from both, but most of them are Peri's. He's the main character, after all.

The playlist has a couple of different "sections." The first eight songs fall under Part 1: Brothers, which is all before Timmy lost his memory. Hence why these songs gradually get more melancholy, despite being tinged with hope, as the inevitable approaches.

Part 2: Alone, is... Exactly what it sounds like. These songs on the playlist get more depressing as Peri's explosive grief simmers into a constant state of depression over time. These songs do follow the five stages of grief very loosely — but I have a specific song in mind to fit "acceptance." See if you can guess which one it is :)

Part 3: Strangers, is the part of the playlist where Timmy and Peri meet again, as adults. I don't have a clearly defined point where this bleeds into Part 4: Friends, or a point where it becomes Part 5: Love. I guess that's okay, though! It suits them, because Peri and Timmy couldn't define those stages of their relationship if you asked them, either, lol!

A lot of the songs in the middle of the playlist are more for ~vibes~ than story beats. A lot of the "I don't want to be in love with you" type songs are meant to represent Peri's inner turmoil... But in the fic proper, he's repressing the hell out of those thoughts! He experiences the denial and the self-hatred and the regret all at once, after his relationship with Timmy reaches a point where Peri can no longer deny it :)

The mutual pining part of the playlist is my favorite! See this stretch of songs? ↓↓

These are actually POV switches! They go from Peri to Timmy to Peri to Timmy etc for a while, as they both grapple (or, in Timmy's case, don't grapple) with their feelings. It's so fun having Peri's sadder, longing, soulful songs about desire and struggling to accept that right next to Timmy's upbeat, bouncing songs about how they are perfect together and he wants Peri so bad, haha 💕

Part 6: Together settles towards the end, filled with love songs that become softer as they bleed into the "epilogue" of the playlist, Part 7: Forever.

Timmy and Peri's relationship in ILITAYH will not go this smoothly, ha! Nor will it necessarily end how the playlist implies that it does. But there are some hints in the last two songs as to how the fic will conclude :)

But, yeah >_< I can literally ramble about every single song on that playlist and how it relates to TimPeri. Do not feel silly, anon, I promise that not only am I more deranged about them than you, but I am beyond happy to have someone as excited about this playlist as I am!!

[kidstemplatte]

I know you must be so busy rn, but could we get some headcannons/ little fic about Terzo with his kids on Christmas

dad! terzo during the holidays headcanons🎁🎄

tysm for your request, anon! i hope this is close to what you wanted! please enjoy<3

◇ i like to imagine the clergy decorates for the holiday season, i’m not sure what exactly they’d celebrate since i’m no expert regarding theistic satanism (i need my art school anon to help me with this one 🤍) but i think they would do some of the christmas-esque stuff just for the fun of it

◇ i imagine their decor is a nice fun mix of spooky and sweet, or more of a witchy vibe.

◇ i headcanon that they’re in sweden, which means there’s snow outside!!! terzo doesn’t like the cold, since he’s from italy haha but his kids loooooove playing in the snow so he sticks it out for them!

◇ he gets all wrapped up in like 1000 layers because he’s a big old baby, definitely not dramatic at all.

◇ but also he makes his kids do the same, he’s very protective and wants to make sure his kids don’t freeze!

◇ honestly i think terzo’s the kind of dad who would make up an urban legend to scare his kids into wearing proper winter gear…💀 they’re SPRINTING to get inside after he tells them about the monster who eats little children who don’t wear their gloves…

◇ do not take terzo ice skating because his ass will fall down over and over and over again. but on second thought, it makes the kids laugh, so maybe do take him.

◇ terzo cannot wrap presents. he is so bad at it. he has to ask the ghouls or one of his brothers to do it. but this also means he really appreciates the artistry of gift-wrapping.

◇when he gets a gift of any kind he always wriggles his fingers and goes “for me?” like you’ve just bestowed a treasure upon him.

◇ he will absolutely melt if his kids give him a gift of any kind, a homemade card or even just a cool rock one of them found. he will keep it forEVER.

◇ if there’s an elf on the shelf or some kind of satanic equivalent, terzo is leaving it in the funniest fucking places. then he sits around waiting for his kids’ reactions because he loves hearing them laugh.

◇ but it’s not just for the kids- it’s for his own amusement as well. you can bet that elf is going on nihil’s grave.

◇ every christmas eve eve (december 23rd muahaha) terzo watches nightmare before christmas with his kids.

◇ terzo’s favorite christmas movie is home alone, but he has to give the kids a disclaimer before they watch because they’re little troublemakers and they WILL get ideas from all the traps and shenanigans.

◇ i don’t know about anyone else, but i always had a hard time as a kid falling asleep on christmas eve because i was so excited. i imagine terzo’s kids are the same way haha, so he reads them stories until they fall asleep.

◇ terzo doesn’t care much about his kids believing in santa until they tell him they don't. because to terzo, that’s a challenge.

◇ initially, he wants to dress up as santa himself, but he knows the kids are smart enough to find out it’s him. so he has to outsource his work. (he makes omega dress up as santa and put the gifts terzo made him wrap under the tree. omega gets a raise.)

◇ the kids are getting whatever they ask for btw. it’s typically nothing too unreasonable because they’re raised well haha.

◇ if the kids want to leave food out for santa, terzo’s using it as an excuse to order a fancy ass hundred dollar meal and eat it at 3 am. santa’s getting steak made with wagyu beef and a nice glass of wine.

◇ i hc that terzo can cook but he can’t bake for shit, (i have a fic i’ve been wanting to finish for so long about that) so primo makes the kids gingerbread cookies (he has an extensive cookie cutter collection) and they’re all decorated super fun lol.

◇ also in my mind the clergy is a huge piece of property with a forest behind it, and in this forest there are deer! so before the sun sets on the night of christmas eve terzo takes the kids to leave food for the deer as fuel for their upcoming flight :,)

└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘

that’s it yall!!! happy holidays and tysm for your request anon!!! i rlly hope u liked it!! i have more stories coming soon i can’t wait to share!!

[darkwing-katy]

Had to ask based on your recent Evil reblogs, what are your thoughts on Kriland (Kristen x Leland) ? The chemistry is there for some steamy one-shot fun but I don’t see a lot about their dynamic so just wondering your take.

Also really enjoying your Leland x Reader fic, and am excited for the next chapter!! Are any of your works on Ao3?

Thank you for feeding the community with your work ☺️

Okay, so they tooooootally have a lot of chemistry, right? But I don’t necessarily ship them. Will I read oneshots of them? Absolutely. They just work so dang well together! They would have wild hate sex. They make each other worse and I am here for it, but I also love that they’re on opposite sides that have this strange give-and-take thing going on. His appearance in her life changes her for better and for worse—without Leland, she never would have met David and Ben, never would’ve murdered LeRoux, never would’ve cheated on Andy (I truly believe that), but she also wouldn’t really be happy, you know?

Also I am PEEVED and MIFFED and ANGRY that we got that line of, “You’ve been protecting Kristen for the last few years now; you can’t protect her any longer” in the series finale because WHAT DO YOU MEAN, PROTECTING?! Is Leland in love with her?! Is it that he’s just that obsessed with her that he wants to be the one to end her?! Is it because he genuinely believes that she’s the proper mother of the Antichrist and he worships her even as he hates her?! I NEED TO KNOW DAMMIT

Oh no, side note, now I want fics where Leland becomes some sort of weird uncle/godfather/something to the Bouchard kids because he goes from being completely evil to being…not quite evil but not quite good (as implied by the last four episodes) and he keeps encouraging them to do bad things and they have to be like, “No, that’s bad, we can’t do that.” Something akin to Lilo and Stitch. Or Loki and Mobius. I dunno, I think it’d be fricking hilarious.

Sorry, you got me on a tangent that got sidetracked haha

Anyways, the point is that I love them together but not necessarily romantically together.

Also I’m glad you’re enjoying the Leland x Reader fic! When I got into this show, I thought it was CRIMINAL that there weren’t any Leland x Reader fics out there already. I knew I couldn’t be the only one who’s obsessed with that man, and if that meant I had to be the first one to write something, then dammit, I’m doing it! It was either that or wrote a fic with an OC and that was too much effort, haha.

I do have some things on AO3! I’ve got a masterpost of fics pinned to my page. Three of the four are Lost fics because I’m obsessed with Michael Emerson and Lost. I’ve started posting the Leland fic to my AO3, but it’s several chapters behind the one on tumblr (should be all posted on there by Halloween because I thought that was excellent timing).

Thanks for asking! Sorry not sorry for the long response—the coffee kicked in right as I started typing and the brain got really excited about a lot of things.

[cinnamonanddean]

Okay Smallville friends, here we go: finale time.

"And now, the series finale of Smallville" WHAT IF I'M ALREADY SAD

"Special Guest Star: Michael Rosenbaum" wow spoilers much?? I mean not for me obviously but for OG viewers. I would have SCREAMED.

Lois, sweetie, he could be saving people every minute he's doing anything, by that logic. Why is his working at the Planet, etc, any different than spending time with you?

Aww, bye Luthor Mansion. You've been a fun place to stage so, so many Clex fics. Hmm I wonder if there are more fics set there or in the barn loft? I'm torn between them, personally.

Kind of rich for Martha to complain about Clark moving on when she hasn't been around for years. "This is our home" okay but you left him here. He's had to cope without you. It's not fair to put the responsibility of keeping the past alive on his shoulders alone.

Oh no his vows 😭😭😭

I feel like we don't have enough time to wrap up this (rather dull) Darkseid plotline AND have a wedding AND bring Lex back? I know this is a double episode but still. Although I suppose Lex's scene will be short and right near the end.

Oh no her vows 😭😭😭

Again I ask: has there ever been a TV wedding that just goes smoothly?

At least Lois's dress is nicer than Lana's. That bow haunts me.

Is he gonna walk down with her AGGHHHH this is so sweet 😭

Uh oh. Lois girl, pay attention, that's not the right ring. Oh thank god for Chloe.

Can't believe they're doing this to Oliver ☹️ hasn't he suffered enough?

So wait: did Clark Luthor not have powers? Did I miss that? I swear he was throwing people around and shit.

Lol is that a Herve Leger bandage dress on Lois?

Agggh Tom does vulnerable so well. "I can't, Dad" just like a little baby boy, I weep.

OH GOD I KEEP FORGETTING ABOUT ALT!LIONEL, it's a fucking jump scare every time.

Oh my god so this Lex is a fucking Frankenstein?? That's...weird. A Frankenlex.

OH MY GOD HE'S GONNA TAKE TESS'S HEART

IS THAT MICHAEL?? Wait probably not, we didn't see his face.

YES GIRL KICK THEIR ASSES

YES GIRL KILL THAT OLD BASTARD!

God this Darkseid CG is so bad

Omg omg omg omg omg OH MY GODDDDD

Oh I hate when they take an already blurry photo and then CSI-style ENHANCE! it to magically unblur it

OH MY GOD OKAY HERE WE GO

I see one of the Franken-pieces was his sassy ass mouth. God I've missed him.

Lex, honey, you've been back for thirty seconds and you're already waxing poetic about how he says your name??? I see another of the Franken-pieces was the need to make every interaction so incredibly gay. "Yet...with a hopeful finish" oh my god honestly

Apologies in advance: I might have a comment on every line of this dialogue.

Oh dear, you can see the bald cap a bit when he raises his eyebrows. I remember Michael said the bald cap was more trouble than just shaving his head lol

Lord, it wouldn't be a proper Lex return without a history speech. HONEY I'VE MISSED YOUUU!

"that's the thing about memories: you can't forget them" mmmm I don't think that's true baby.

Oh gosh the vitriol.

"You and I - we will both be great men. Because of each other." Honey the WAY you talk about the two of you. THE VOICE CRACK. "We have a destiny together, Clark, only on different sides."

Everything he says sounds like a love confession I'M SO SORRY BUT IT DOES

Stop wait one fucking minute here. The last piece of Clark's little "am I strong enough to face this threat" puzzle, the last person to give him the courage and the conviction to do what he needs to do - is LEX FUCKING LUTHOR??? NOT LOIS NOT HIS PARENTS NOT CHLOE BUT LEX??????? oh my god what is happening that is INSANE OF THEM

I need to watch that again. Gosh I haven't done that since the Lexana scene from Fracture.

HAHA I missed Lex's joke about Lionel's heart the first time around. Why is he so funny

God Michael is so fucking good. He just elevates the tone. It's really what's been missing from these last seasons. The others are good - Tom is so good, I'm not discounting him at all - but Michael is on another level.

Hmm seemed a bit too easy killing the Prophets

Oh poor John Glover. This is Not Good. He was always so suave and cool as Lionel, this is a step down.

Aww look how far our sweet boy has come 😭 I'm so proud of him.

HE'S FLYING 😭😭😭

OH I DIDN'T KNOW WE GOT MORE LEX I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST THE SCENE WITH CLARK

Ahh jeez. I kinda came around to Tess. She wasn't Lex but she was fun.

Oh riiiiiiight, I forgot he gets his memory wiped. Again.

OH MY GOD THE LAST MEMORY IS HIM AND CLARK OF COURSE IT FUCKING IS

Lol what the fuck does he think is happening, now that he can't remember?

THE LUTHORCORP SIGN TURNING INTO LEXCORP THAT WAS SO RAD

Our baby finally in the suit 😭

Girl I don't think they just let you film the President like that. That camera is gonna be taken away IMMEDIATELY.

Oh yeah I forgot about Jimmy. That was...a choice.

ALL HAIL PRESIDENT LEX!!!!

"yes Miss Lane" "that's so hot" girl yes it is.

Oh the theme 😭 what an ending

That was so great. A bit hokey in parts, but overall such a satisfying finale. What a ride.

[azulas-daddy-kink]

Don’t get me wrong, I like the idea that Ilah died giving birth to Ozai, but at the same time I prefer the headcanon that she simply died of old age/other natural causes when Zuko and Azula were still young because I just love the idea of Ilah being the “good wife/mother, but absolutely horrible person” like she will be all nice and proper until you mention *insert anyone that isn’t firenation/isn't willing to kiss the very ground she walks on* and she goes on an unhinged rant about ungratefulness or some shit.

And she would of course pass this stuff down to her children.

Also she would be the kind of mother that thinks that her kids can’t do anything wrong ever, to the point you could show her a video of her son butchering 55 newborns all while laughing hysterically and she would still say: “Oh, it’s deepfaked/he had a good reason!”.

The ultimate enabler.

Haha I totally get it - tiger mom Ilah ftw! If she was around for Ozai growing up, I can easily picture her as a Cersei Lannister type mother.

"My precious baby boy Ozai is perfect in every way, he can do whatever he wants because he's my little prince."

Meanwhile Ozai: *punched his teacher in the face and burned another student's hair off*

It's a really fun concept - we need fics like this, dammit!

(sidenote: sorry this took me forever to reply to)

[obsessedwhyyes]

73, 74, 75 & 80 for the ask game!

I definitely didn't have a good giggle at this, not at all (don't worry, I almost did the same when asking someone else 😂). Answers under the cut!

73. What do you tend to get complimented the most about your writing?

Either my character voice or my descriptive imagery! For the former, it's usually people saying that Astarion's voice comes through in what I've written, which I'm insanely happy about. A bit of behind the scenes - I've always been really into voice acting and voice actors ever since I was a kid. Stemmed from being a Sonic the Hedgehog and anime fan growing up, I think, haha. I love picking apart people's voices and thinking about what makes them unique, so it's great putting that to use in writing! It's so much fun.

74. Do you have a fic you wish got more love?

Right now, either part 2 of The Scientific Method, 'An Empirical Study,' or A Tale of Fools and Tricksters. But such is the nature of longfics or multi-chapter fics, sadly! They generally don't tend to do as well as one-shot fics on Tumblr. But I knew this going into things, so I'm not mad about it!

75. Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn't expect?

Honestly? The one I just released 😂 The Learned Observer is my second or third best performing fic on Tumblr so far in terms of the number of notes in 24 hours, which was a huge surprise, given it's in first person and features a specific kink that can be controversial. You're all filthy devils (affectionate).

Which fics have you done the most research for?

A Tale of Fools and Tricksters, for sure! I went on a proper circus binge. Every piece of circus visual media, I've been eating it up. Circus acts, what it takes to perform them, the outfits, all of it. I've watched The Greatest Showman more times than I care to admit 😂