#one of these leads to a far worse fandom experience than the other and i’ll tell you: it’s not the one where people insist they’re fans

[quietwingsinthesky]

doctor who fandom is fun because not only does it seem like most everyone i encounter has watched everything in the show but also way more of the supplementary material then i even knew existed. compared to supernatural, where a sizable portion of the fandom would happily brag about not even having seen the show.

[thefanficmonster]

Rumors

Corpse Husband x Bimbo!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of Slut Shaming, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Tiniest bit of Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When some rumors start floating around, every content creator does their best to either ignore them or defuse the situation. However, sometimes, the fans attempt to do the defusing themselves which only leads to a worse disaster. That’s the case for Corpse whose fans were quick to jump to his protection of some ‘false’ rumors.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, it was a joy to write. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to complete and post the fic but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love, Vy ❤

Corpse cracks his knuckles, then his shoulders, then his collarbone, then the his neck. He clenches his jaw as he breathes steadily and rhythmically, trying to control an overwhelming wave of anger that he has never felt before. This is a situation he’s never had to deal with nor did he ever think he’d have to deal with and address on a fucking livestream on top of all, but here he is now, doing his best to count to ten and not go on a Twitter responding spree, calling people out on their bullshit. He wanted to do so, he still wants to, but he was stopped in his intentions and brought to a calm mindset where he was swayed into dealing with this the civil way and not by roasting the fuck out of any and every foul-mouthed person he’s seen on his Twitter timeline.

He can’t really guarantee and civility during the stream either, he’s aware his tolerance is as thin as a stretched out, old rubber band and is a slight tug away from snapping and allowing him to unleash hell on these people because of who he’s been seeing red these past few days. 

Let’s not risk a misunderstanding here - Corpse absolutely loves and adores his fans, but seeing this behavior from them is quite upsetting and disappointing. When he uses the terms like ‘assholes’, ‘jerks’ and ‘rude motherfuckers’ he isn’t referring to them. He knows they are good people, but are using the completely wrong tactic of defending him, not to mention he doesn’t even need defending. Even if he did, he’s more than capable of doing it on his own and not getting other people involved.

“Hello everyone, hope you’re doing well.“ He finally settles on saying, officially kicking off the stream. If there’s any indicator of the serious nature of this stream, it’s probably the lack of lo-fi and the lack of even attempted playfulness and cheeriness in his voice. That’s how you know shit isn’t to be messed around about. “I just realized I didn’t specify what I’ll be doing in the Tweet, but I’ll tell you now, so those who aren’t interested in the subject or want to steer clear of the drama can leave. However, I wouldn’t advise clicking off considering this will be an overall, how do I say this, rant, of sorts? It’s meant to knock some sense in the people who have been spreading hate for a specific person on all social media platforms she’s active on.“

The majority of the viewers are already familiar with the subject, some even guilty of spreading the hate Corpse mentioned, but there are a few that are completely clueless - the ones actually not interested in online drama, not just saying they ‘hate drama’. With those people in mind, Corpse takes to addressing the issue from its very beginning.

“So, for a month now, me and this streamer, who’s also a TikTok star, by the name of Y/N have been interacting a lot on social media. She’s an incredibly sweet girl that a lot of people have prejudice towards. She’s very misjudged and misunderstood because people see he solely as her content, if that makes sense. They only know she’s that streamer who wears revealing clothes on her streams and posts risqué pictures on her Instagram. Like, no.“ Corpse cannot even fully believe he has to address this and that slut-shaming people is still a thing in the twenty-first century. He closes his eyes for a moment, fist tightening and his knuckles turning white, “I don’t understand how so many people can be so shallow and just plain jerks towards her in general, but then again - this is especially for my fans, the members of my fandom - I don’t understand the need you guys feel to put Y/N down to defend me from some ridiculous rumors as if it’s the first time I’ve had to deal with people talking shit for attention or to get someone canceled.“ He sighs, reminding himself to slow his roll as to not confuse any viewers who still don’t know the full story, “Anyway, back to the timeline of events. So, considering we’ve never interacted before, all the replying to comments, retweeting, liking posts and whatever sparked some dating rumors. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious - you see two people interacting on social media and the first thing that comes to mind is that they’re in a romantic relationship. Where did the friendship go? Does no one value or consider friendships to be a valid type of human relation anymore?“ He runs a hand through his hair, making another pause to clear his mind and prevent his frustration from overflowing. He promised he wouldn’t lose his cool and would remain calm and collected, but the more he talks about it the tighter he clenches his fist and the faster his heartrate is. His neck and ears are red from the tension he feels all over, almost like he’s physically restraining a raging wild animal and not just his own thoughts and emotions.

There’s layers to his anger, the lower ones - aka the ones he’s yet to get to - will be a nightmarish test of his self-control, he already knows it. Judging by how much of a toll this rant has already taken on him, his patience and control growing thinner and thinner, he’s not sure how he’ll power through the last layers without his voice raising awfully high in volume and his fists searching for some object to punch. To an ignorant eye, his reaction would seem exaggerated and overboard, but little does that ignorant eye know...

“When some of my fans saw those rumors, they reacted very badly. It was quite disappointing to see. Guys, I appreciate you standing up for me even though you shouldn’t do that - I can defend myself, not that this was a matter I needed defending from to begin with. But just the way some of you went about it was horrifically wrong and quite upsetting, to me but especially to Y/N herself.“ He can feel it, the aggravation growing, bubbling up in his chest, “What I saw disgusted me, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. The things some of you were saying...I couldn’t believe you are in fact the same people who are my fans, my lovely fans who I’ve always thought so highly of. Never did I think you could be able of slut-shaming so vulgarly and grossly, I couldn’t believe what I was reading.“

He has every right to be upset - the things being said about Y/N were truly awful and a lot of things being said were meant to defend Corpse and defuse the rumors, doing so while stomping all over Y/N and her content. Rightfully so, many of her fans were outraged and quick to jump to her defense but were unfortunately outnumbered, leading Corpse to believe not many of her fans are actually real or as dedicated as his which only fueled his fury further.

Anyway, let’s take a look at Y/N’s point of view. Being a content creator for as long as she has, refusing to change her style no matter how many people disagreed and insulted her about it, she’s grown quite used to people spitting insults at her on every social media possible. It’s sad how throughout the majority of her content creating career she’s only had haters, creeps and fake fans watching her videos and streams. Rare are those in her fandom who’d actually stick up for her and defend her in ‘scandals’ such as this one. However, no amount of experience with dealing with hate could have prepared her for this outpour of some of the meanest shit she’s ever heard and been called in her life.

Y/N likes the content she makes, she’s comfortable in her skin and loves her body. She loves showing it off too and nor she nor anyone who wants that deserves to be shamed for who they are and what they do, especially when they aren’t hurting anyone and their content is still appropriate. People have always bashed her for all elements of who she is: her appearance, her clothing style, her streams, her gaming skills, her voice on occasion. She can count the instances when she’s received positive feedback on the fingers of her hands which would depress anyone else but not her. She’s always created content for her own amusement and entertainment so people’s opinions never really bothered her. Until now, until this very drama that has hit a specific nerve, an insecurity of hers she’s never talked about. The comments such as:

(Vy Speaking: Comments containing slut-shaming ahead, go to ### if you want to skip)

“Corpse would never date a slut like her“

“Corpse dating this thot? Please internet stop being ridiculous“

“Corpse ain’t a pimp, y’all need to chill“

“Even if they datin they gon break up soon - whore stays a whore“

###

bothered her far more than she’d like to admit. She has no one to open up about it either, she knows what she’ll get in response if she does - she’ll be told it’s her fault. Her fault because of the way she dresses, the way she talks and acts, because she chose this career to begin with. All her fault. The only person she can turn to she refuses to because she doesn’t want to be a bother - not after so many people confirmed her worries that she’s not good enough for him already anyway, the least she can do is avoid bothering him the best she can.

And that is exactly why this has upset Corpse so much.

“Here’s a little message specifically meant for those who claimed I’d never date someone like Y/N or specifically Y/N. You better listen carefully: Don’t you ever, and I mean EVER slut-shame my girlfriend or any other person ever. I cannot believe I have to explicitly remind you that your behavior isn’t ok. You should fucking know that your behavior isn’t right and that you’re a massive piece of shit for saying those awful things about others you judge solely on appearance and clothing. Does it surprise you that I am, in fact, dating Y/N? If you say yes for the reason you think she’s not good enough for me or that I deserve better, please get the fuck out of my fandom. No one disrespects my girl and gets away with it. That’s final!“

Though still under the influence of a flurry of negative emotions, overhearing Corpse literally telling people to exclude themselves from his fandom for being mean to her, Y/N’s taking a step towards emotional recovery knowing her boyfriend will always have her back. He’ll always be there to prove people wrong, defend her and stand by her. He’ll be there to catch her when the hate knocks her off her feet.

But most importantly: he’ll never ask her to change. Not her style, not her clothes, not her personality, nothing. He fell for her the way she is and for who she is, and he will never allow anyone to try to change her either. For someone who’s never had much support all her life, a single speck of support overpowers all the hate within the blink of an eye. Corpse will always be her knight in shining armor, the knight who defeated all the hateful demons by just entering her life. And though she’s still struggling with the ‘Am I good enough for someone so wonderful?’ and ‘He deserves better, doesn’t he?’ questions, with his hand holding hers, she’ll never let those doubts and insecurities overpower her.

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[pi-cat000]

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (6)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters:  Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

START  / PREV / NEXT 

As predicted, the day following the seal’s application is miserable. His chest is tight with almost anxiety, pins and needles run up and down his arms making his skin itch, and he is increasingly lethargic. All symptoms of a chakra imbalance and to be expected when one’s normal chakra replacement rate was thrown out. The sensations would pass once his body adjusted as they had with his sharingan.

He is eating three square meals a day, doing the bare minimum when it came to exercise routines and avoiding excess chakra use. It had been literal years since he had had this much bed rest. If he were ever going to slap a chakra collecting seal on himself, this was a perfect time. Okay, so maybe he should have steadily increased the chakra drain over the course of a few weeks for a smoother adjustment period. Hindsight and all that.

What mattered was that he would be fine, and he just had to wait it out. Bright side? No one had commented on the seal yet. Oh, he has definitely noticed serval people throwing the odd confused frown at his shoulder, but that was as far as anyone had gone in acknowledging it. His oh so clever strategy of acting like nothing was wrong worked so much better when he wasn’t surrounded by other shinobi and medic-nin.

“Your blood pressure is still too high. Are you sure you haven’t been experiencing any additional fatigue or other symptoms? Is something about the hospital causing additional stress? If there is something wrong, we should work on strategies to fix the problem.”

Well… it worked on everyone who wasn’t Wada. The man was irritatingly persistent in his doctoring. Apparently, the pressure of adjusting to an increased chakra drain wasn’t doing his body any favours.

“Maybe it’s a part of my quirk. High regeneration. High blood pressure.” Kakashi shrugs loosely not bothering to look up from HEROES and HEROINES May Issue. Unlike his previous reading material, people gave him odd looks when they saw him reading these magazines which immediately upped their entertainment value 100-fold.

Wada undoes the compression sleeve he had been using to measure Kakashi’s blood pressure, lecturing as he goes, “From what I can tell your cells produce more energy-rich molecules, ATP, NADH, then is typical, increasing cellular functions. Where your cells are getting the energy to produce these molecules, I have no idea seeing as you eat about the same amount as any baseline human. What I can safely say is that it should not influence your blood pressure. If anything, your blood pressure should be a bit lower than average. Now don’t dodge the question.”

He pauses, waiting for Kakashi to cave and suddenly confess. Kakashi, an old hat at dodging medical questions, continues reading unperturbed.

“I’ve been at this for over 30 years. An attack like the one you suffered is understandably traumatic, not to mention the stress of severe amnesia. I’m sure, whatever is bothering you, I’ve heard it before.”

Kakashi very much doubts that. “I feel fine.”

Wada huffs, unconvinced, “Young men. You all think that admitting you have a problem is a sign of weakness. High blood pressure can damage your heart and lead to problems  later in life so finding the cause is important.” Good thing a shinobi life spans tended to max out around 30. The odds of him making it to an age where he’d have to worry about the long-term effects of anything were pretty low. He doesn’t voice this opinion, continuing to read.

Wada continues talking with greater gusto, “No matter, I’ll prescribe you something for stress hopefully that’ll help with your blood pressure. However, this is no replacement for healthy habits both physical and mental. You should consider professional therapy.”

Kakashi snorts. Yeah, that sounds about right.

“Oh, you think that’s funny do you,” Wada makes to grab HEROES and HEROIENS and he lets the doctor pull the magazine free from his hand. It gives him a good view of the man’s irate expression.

“No, of course not.” Kakashi attempts to placate and gets a light smack over the head with said magazine for his troubles.

“There is no shame in pursuing a healthy mind!”

“Weren’t we going to test my quirk today?” He complains to derail the current line of questioning.

“I have half a mind to put it off and have you rest another week,” is threatened before Wada’s stern expression relaxes, “Lucky for you, I’ve booked you into serval tests that can’t be rescheduled.”

Kakashi breaths out dramatically. He thinks Wada might have made a good medic-nin if he had lived in Konoha. Sure, he is a little too trusting, but he was also not above pestering his patients into taking better care of themselves. Sakura would approve.

The doctor, with the assistance of an attending nurse he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of, helps Kakashi out of his bed and into a wheelchair, ignoring his protests about his leg being all but healed.

“You’re to avoid putting weight on it until you start physical therapy,” Wada snaps at his continued complaints, “You’ll need to be careful, extended bed rest and surgery can leave your muscles weakened. Also, leave that magazine behind. You’re doing eye tests when do you think you’ll have time to read!”

Kakashi doesn’t push the matter further, resigning himself to being wheeled down the hospital halls like the invalid he was pretending to be. It is not like Wada knew about his frequent excursions to the roof or the fact that he has been running through strengthening exercises on his own time for several weeks now.  Best he keeps that information to himself.

Partway down the hall, he pulls out HEROES and HEROIENS from where he had slipped it into his shirt, enjoying Wada’s exasperated expression. Of course, he stops reading when the doctor threatens to start lecturing again. The man could definitely talk when given the chance.

Wada and the nurse take wheel him to a set of double-door elevators which take them down several floors below the ground level. The hallway they exit of a mirror of every other hospital hallway. Grey and white walls, pale blue lino floor and bright fluorescent overhead lights. The only difference is that this hallway is lined with heavy-looking metal doors. From snooping through patient files, he knows that all quirk tests are carried out in specially designated underground ‘safety rooms.’ That doesn't make him any more thrilled about being several stories underground. It cut down on his escape roots.

“These are some of the more secure recovery wards in the hospital,” Wada explains as their little group stops at a small reception desk where the doctor taps away at a computer screen, “they’re mostly for treating patients with unstable quirks.” Kakashi maintains a neutral expression, accepting the explanation.

Wada wheels him up to a steel door, swiping his ID card which also doubled as a key to many areas of the hospital. The heavy door is automated and slides open. A lot of the doors in the hospital operate this way and always made sneaking around slightly more troublesome.

Inside walls and floor are plain white and there is an odd number of tables and chairs pushed to one side out of the way. Everything stinks of disinfectant. On the far wall is a single solitary painting of a tree in a field, the only splash of colour in an otherwise depressingly sparse room. A poor attempt at living up the space. The opposite wall sports a rectangular, reflective surface which was probably some sort of observation booth. Well, if being underground hadn’t put him on edge, this obvious confinement room definitely did the job. Kakashi eyes the space. Worse comes to worst, he could use the kamui and remove the adjoining hallway wall then climb his way out through the elevator shaft. There are only two other people in the room with him and one woman at the reception desk, all were most likely unenhanced with quirks unsuited to combat, easily removed.  He doesn’t let his body language reflect his unease. He is just a little on edge because the new seal is messing with his body’s natural homeostasis. If this is a trap there would have been other signs of deception before now.

“Yes, I know it might seem like a whole lot of fuss just to run through a few flashcards,” Wada comments, oblivious to Kakashi’s poor mood. He waves to his assisting nurse who wheels over and lowers one of the metallic tables so Kakashi doesn’t have to move from his wheelchair. “But it’s a standard safety procedure when an unknown quirk is involved. Trust me, this is a lot easier than travelling to an external testing range.”

Wada stops to give Kakashi a once over, frowning, “How much do you know about your quirk sub-type?”

Kakashi shrugs, “Nothing much.”

“Ah,” The doctor’s frown grows, and he grimaces, “Of course you don’t.” A sigh.

“Typically, ocular quirks will act to enhanced sight in some way or improve base level memorisation and recall ability. It is also common to have a replicating function, allowing the user to produce some sort of copy of things they see. In rarer cases, ocular quirks result in precognitive abilities.” Wada explanation falters, “They can also have a line-of-sight emitter effect, such as laser vision, optical blasts, a few instances of mind control and other mental effects. These can also be incredibly dangerous if the user isn’t in control. There have even been instances where whole buildings have been levelled.”

“I see.”  He supposes Wada's irritation at this private 'quirk' testing made a bit more sense. A doctor faced with an unknown and possibly dangerous ability would be annoyed if said patient went about experimenting without taking safety precautions.

“I should have checked whether you knew the dangers instead of just assuming. Apologies. That is my own error.”

He peers at Kakashi, almost guilty now, “and you don’t have a phone either so there would have been no way for you to research quirks yourself.”

“Ah,” Kakashi rubs the back of his head not likening how torn up the other man seems to be seeing as Kakashi had ever been in any real danger. “Don’t worry about it,” he reassures.  

His reassurances land flat, the doctor still frowning, “I’ll see if I can get you access to the internet somehow.”

Privately, Kakashi adds 'research' to the list of functions ‘phones’ apparently provided and 'internet' to his growing list of terms to investigate.

Wada sighs again. “Regardless, let’s get these tests done first.” He places a thick folder labelled National Standard for Registration: Kit Type 3 alongside one of those portable keyboard-less computers the doctors tended to carry around.  “Hold on, been a while since I’ve done one of these. Need to find the rights files. Ah, here we go. First, these rooms are monitored, and all tests are recorded. The data collected is confidential, accessible only to the patient and physician unless doing so causes the patent harm. Information regarding quirk function and use is shared with the Registry Office. You have a right to stop testing at any point. You got that?”

Kakashi grunts, his already poor mood souring further. He is not sure he wants the hospital - or anyone - keeping records of anything sharingan related.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Wada continues unperturbed, a testament to his serval weeks of trying to doctor Kakashi, “remember to let me know if you’re experiencing any discomfort. Don’t want you busting anymore blood vessels.

Kakashi lets out a tired breath, “Sure.” The sooner they left this room the better.

“We’ll test memory and vision first to compare to your baseline, then we’ll run through the replication and precognitive tests just in case.”

The nurse, who had been on the opposite side of the room waves, “All ready over here.” There is now a large poster with letters of varying sizes hung on the wall. He recognises the chart from his previous eye tests.

“Okay, let’s start with just uncovering it. Make sure you’re looking away from me as a precaution.”

Kakashi resists rolling his non- sharingan eye at the obvious instruction, shifting his attention to the poster on the wall. He flips his padded eyepatch up with his index finger so it partially rests on his forehead. All the letters, no matter the size, immediately snap into sharp focus. Nothing spontaneously combusts under his gaze. When he glances at the painting of the tree, he can now see a lack of brush texture, suggesting that it wasn’t a painting but a print of some sort. With that useless information now forever etched into his memory, he turns back to examine at Wada.

The sharingan picks out all the wrinkles and pores lining the older face. It focuses in on minuscule muscle movements as the man’s expression shifts from professional and accommodating to curious. The doctor’s fingers twitch ever so slightly over his computer. Most likely an unconscious habit. The man’s breath is slightly uneven like his chest can’t smoothly expand, suggesting some sort of lung problem. A past smoking habit perhaps? Nothing threatening is revealed.

“Doctor.” Kakashi prompts when Wada spends a little too long staring back at him. The sharingun did have a weak hypnotic effect, encouraging extended eye contact to help catch targets in genjutsu. Kakashi rarely uncovered his eye in the presence of civilians so he doesn’t know if the effect is more pronounced or if Wada is just curious.

Wada blinks, “Well…I certainly see where the ‘wheel’ description comes from.” He spends a second more staring then turns to start writing notes and tapping away at his computer screen. “I wonder if those spinning tomoe are purely cosmetic or if they have some other function because they are certainly fascinating to look at. There is also faint bioluminescence to the eye which is a common feature of ocular quirks…”

Honestly, the blatant eye contact is weird. Even his closest allies tended to avoid looking at his sharingan out of habit - expect for Naruto who was an outlier in almost everything - for understandable reasons. He thinks the people here would also exercise caution if an ocular abilities included mind control or exploding a person through eye contact. But no, Wada just goes right ahead and stares. A few seconds later and the unnamed nurse is also looking curiously at his eye. … …

Aside from redoing a standard eye exam, Kakashi runs through a marathon of flashcards to test both his memory and then precognitive abilities. The tests are done with lights on then in the dark and Kakashi is given a perfect 20/20 and an enhancement score of ‘15 grades above average’ for both. There are also several pages worth of words and numbers in progressively complex arrangements to test his information retention. Of course, everything is easily remembered with the sharingun active.

“Well, it seems to give general across the board vision enhancement alongside perfect recall and retention,” Wada finally concludes as he records all Kakashi’s results, “Of course, we’ll have to re-test retention in a few days so see if the information degrades over an extended period and we don’t know whether your quirk effects your long distance eyesight, but, for now, this appears to be all. The link between your quirked eye and the regenerative side-effect is still unknown. Odd that we couldn’t trigger any ‘copy’ function considering the quirks name though  ‘copy’ could also be a reference to memorisation.  If any other features do reveal themselves make sure you alert a medical professional.”

… …

Kakashi despises the process of getting an MRI with a heated passion. He hates having to lie prone in a loud confined space. It is the height of discomfort, making him tense up and clench his jaw. It is only the fact that Kakashi had researched and mentally prepared himself for the experience that stops him from accidentally snapping someone’s neck.

“We’ll have the results back in a few days,” Wada informs once the trying ordeal is over with, “From there we’ll update the Registry so you’re properly in the system. Speaking of which, have you made any progress on remembering a surname? I need something for the forms.”

“Hatake,” he grunts, too irritated to bother evading - he just wants to return to his room and wait out the side effects of his seal in peace- the question like he had every other time the man asked, “I think I prefer Kakashi though.”

It wasn’t like the name meant anything here and, who knows, maybe someone would come looking for him. This way they would have a trail to follow.

NEXT

[spockandawe]

I’m so unbelievably weak against characters who make terrible choices because they’re hurting and upset. I love the subtler resentful decisions that quietly build up ill will, and I love the big dramatic choices that end with everyone going down in flames. But more than anything, I love love love hurting myself with the emotional flavor of a character struggling with the tension of simultaneously realizing that people hate/mistrust them (or how much people hate/mistrust them, or which people hate/mistrust them), while also realizing that those people just have... no idea where they’re coming from.

I was thinking about this first because of Mu Qing, who is honestly a very low-key version of this scenario (and it’s also quieter since he’s not a lead character and rarely takes the spotlight himself). But the first big tgcf flashback honestly made my heart ache, seeing him trying to walk a line between maintaining his own independence/pride and not belonging to someone he wants to be peers with, but when he tries to be tactful, people decide he’s being shady.  He was picking cherries, to bring a treat to his poor mother (and the poor children around his home), but then got accused of stealing, and then didn’t want to say that it was because his only remaining parent was living in poverty. And it continues through the present day! He knocks out Feng Xin so he can save him from a burning city, because Feng Xin refuses to leave, and people are like ‘>:OOO MU QING ATTACKED FENG XIN??’ In some ways, this character hurts me more than the others, because he rarely does anything wrong, he has a bad attitude, but his most significant “missteps” tend to be like ‘you could have been a little more kind, tbh.’

But also too, I’ve been working my way through the svsss extras again, and... Shen Jiu. God, Shen Jiu. This character is agonizing, and I love him so much. He makes terrible choices! He does terrible things! He tries to set up an actual literal child to die horribly, because he resents that this child had a parent who loved him, and that he found his way to Cang Qiong young enough to reach his full potential! It’s absolutely unforgivable! But nobody except Yue Qingyuan has any clue how much Shen Jiu has been through and how to possibly help him grow or heal or how to support him into better decision making. And Shen Jiu is so hurt by the way Yue Qingyuan left him that he refuses to let Yue Qingyuan help him now. Like! This child was a slave, begging for food on the streets, then was sold to a rich boy who abused him in sexually-flavored ways and planned to marry him to his sister so he could keep him forever, and then his “rescuer” was a scumbag adult who taught him to steal and murder. 

And while Shen Jiu was suffering, he thinks Yue Qingyuan, who came from the same beginning and who promised to come back for him, was living in careless pampered luxury in a prestigious cultivation sect. Shen Jiu’s own self-evaluations are incredibly harsh, from the moment he’s reunited with Yue Qingyuan. He calls himself terrible, he calls himself a thing, and once it’s clear that he’s going to pay the price for his bad decisions, he tries hard to shove away the one person who cares about him and find some way to protect him. Yue Qingyuan never stopped loving him and defending him, but literally nobody else in the world has any sympathy for him whatsoever. How am I not supposed to be heartbroken? Shang Qinghua sighs over how his readers used to hate on Shen Qingqiu for having no motivations, which, sure, that’s understandable from what’s on the “Proud Immortal Demon Way” pages, but seeing the trauma driving his choices in svsss and seeing his own self-awareness and self-loathing and knowing that one (1) person in-universe has any inkling of his internal world (and that person died trying to help him), I’m! In pain!!!

Plus, in svsss proper, I saw a post in passing once that was something like... ‘readers are hard on luo binghe, because he’s the only mxtx protagonist where we see the worst decisions of his life and aren’t in his head to understand why he’s making those decisions.’ Which I still find fascinating, and think about often. It makes sense to me. And as far as my terrible-decision-making children go, he’s very interesting to me because he doesn’t really deal with the widespread distaste/mistrust that mu qing and shen jiu experience, it’s very much targeted on one person. I live for the parts of svsss where all Luo Binghe has to do is breathe, and Shen Qingqiu flinches and bolts. And Luo Binghe is not acting in kind or well-considered ways, a lot of the time! But he was seventeen, and his beloved teacher had told him that ‘humans can be good or evil, demons can be good or evil,’ but the moment Luo Binghe turned out to be half demon, even though he’d just been fighting desperately trying to protect Shen Qingqiu, that teacher he trusted more than anything immediately turned on him, stabbed him in the chest, and threw him into hell.

That’s agonizing!!!! Even without the aftermath, that’s agonizing to read! And when Luo Binghe comes back, years later, he’s upset, he’s hurt, he’s lonely, he’s still stinging from that betrayal, of course he’s not making good decisions. I follow good blogs, because I haven’t seen any terrible Luo Binghe takes on my dash, but I’m kind of :c that these takes apparently exist. Again, it’s not that I think he makes good decisions, but I can see why he makes bad decisions, and I can see other characters missing that context, and I am rolling in terrible, glorious pain. Luo Binghe shows up secretly in Huan Hua Palace and starts taking it over and generally acts shady as heck? Well, Shizun wouldn’t let him beg for forgiveness when he was a disciple, and he’s afraid to face Shen Qingqiu until he can meet him on a semi-equal footing. Luo Binghe gets angry and spiteful when Shen Qingqiu asks if he’s responsible for the sowers? Yes he does! He’d always, always tried to do right by Shen Qingqiu, and trusted Shen Qingqiu when he said demons could be decent people, but the moment he turned out to be half-demon, Shen Qingqiu immediately started expecting the worst from him at every turn. It hurts! I don’t blame him for acting on that hurt! And I am so endlessly compelled by the way that Shen Qingqiu completely fails to recognize the context for where Binghe is coming from.

And like... I cannot leave out Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao. Xue Yang is fascinating in his own way, because the steps are... a lot more explicit and clear-cut than some of these other characters. Shen Jiu’s downward spiral is very internal and he curls up tight to hide his weak spots even with the person who values him most in the whole world, but Xue Yang very plainly tries to lay out his reasoning for his most important person. His whole world is crumbling by the time things reach that point, and it was probably beyond salvaging, but god! He tries so hard to explain the position the world placed him in, from childhood onward, helpless and vulnerable, and that nobody was going to defend him except himself. 

But when Xiao Xingchen doesn’t understand what he’s trying to communicate, when he realizes that the person he values most isn’t willing to hear what he’s trying to say, he starts lashing out again and trying to hurt. It’s the same lesson he learned when he was young, in some ways. ‘If I’m stupid enough to trust you, you’re going to use that to hurt me.’ And then the logical next step, ‘If you’re going to hurt me, all I can do is try to hurt you worse.’ You can see the trauma playing out right there on the page, and it’s agonizing. I can understand some people not enjoying reading things that make them hurt that way, but I have trouble Getting it when people don’t at least find that kind of dynamic compelling as hell. I’ll sometimes avoid media that I know is going to make me sad, but if I’m in the mood to Experience Sadness, I know a dynamic like this is going to grab me by the heart and shake me like a ragdoll.

And... Jin Guangyao. He was on my mind too, partly because I’ve seen a few takes on his motivations lately that honestly kind of baffle me? Like, to each their own, especially since mdzs never takes us inside his head. But I see posts that like... he was bullying Nie Mingjue, or what if Lan Xichen could Tell he was never genuine and mistrusted him on some level, and how to put this. It’s not that I agree with the choices he made, though I really don’t want to play fandom purity police in any way, shape, or form (murder is good, actually), but I understand the choices he made enough that those sort of interpretations that skew towards the cruelty-for-the-sake-of-cruelty territory honestly kind of upset me.

There’s some interesting comparisons to be made with Mu Qing, in some ways. They both grew up poor, without a father, in “shameful” single-parent situations (a sex worker mother vs. a father being executed for being a criminal). They were poor boys with ambition, but no matter how they tried to carry themselves with dignity, those poor beginnings were rubbed in their faces, years after the fact. I think it does make a real difference that Mu Qing’s shame is mostly based in his own history (sweeping floors) while Jin Guangyao’s is more external (son of a whore), and that Jin Guangyao’s also insulted a parent who he loved dearly, and that Mu Qing was seeking the respect outside of famiial structures while Jin Guangyao was desperate to be accepted by his father.

There’s so much of Jin Guangyao’s early life that’s like ‘I’m Just Trying To Live My Life, My Dude,’ and it hurts me to watch. He really didn’t have goals that were all that excessive! If his goals were excessive in some way, it’s only by virtue of how highly ranked his father was, which isn’t his fault. His goal: ‘I want my father to accept me into the family.’ What the world saw: “oh my god, this son of a whore SERIOUSLY wants to be brought into this noble family, lmaooooo.’ There are characters who are more compassionate than that, and a lot of that reaction is down to the nature of the setting, but LORD, man! It’s honestly a pretty restrained goal for a kid to have! Especially when his father totally promised to come back for him someday, and he waited patiently for years before setting out on his own.

And even once he gets kicked down the steps of Koi Tower and dials back his ambitions, he gets so little space to breathe. He’s learning cultivation late, he takes a position as a nobody in a different cultivation sect, he’s just trying to live. But no matter how he rolls with the punches, no matter how he smiles and bears it, he’s being constantly, constantly prodded in that old, painful bruise. I’ve been finally working my way through The Untamed, and it was painful to watch, in Gusu, when he’s trying to present the Nie Sect’s gift to Lan QIren, and people just start focking gossiping about him, right there, perfectly audibly. And when we see him back in Qinghe, he’s perfectly polite and deferential, and that one disciple is still like ‘fuck you, ur mom was a whore.’

He makes bad decisions, but even when he makes good decisions, he can’t win. I don’t get anything from him at all that suggests he had Hugely Lofty Ambitions from a young age, he just wanted some kind of decent life, but almost nobody would cut him a break. Nie Mingjue did cut him a break, and Lan Xichen was gentle and kind to him, and that made such an impact on him. But I also think it made it that much worse, when he made later questionable decisions, and Nie Mingjue refused to let him explain himself. Nie Mingjue’s rigidity breaks my heart in lots of ways, but especially when it comes to Jin Guangyao. I don’t want to make this all about personal attachment, but it’s kind of inescapable in this situation. Nie Mingjue sends him a loud, violent message that if he’s not perfectly morally upright, he’s Done. But by now, Jin Guangyao has years of history of people being cruel to him based on a history he never was able to control. Nie Mingjue protected him, but hes made it clear that protection was... conditional. There could be arguments about how conditional, and what the non-murdery limits would have been, but the murder has been done, and it was already clear that Nie Mingjue never had the power to protect him from everything.

I can’t read Jin Guangyao’s later actions without also reading that fear and insecurity into his decisions. He even tries to say it outright, that he’s afraid of everyone and everything, and Nie Mingjue misses the point. Jin Guangyao hurts me a lottle, because he suffers both in terms of the general public’s judgment of him, but also in the judgment of someone he cared deeply about. I can see the reasoning and trauma, but so many other people in the story can’t. Jin Guangyao gets pushed to the edge by how his father holds him at arm’s length from the family, the atrocities he tells Jin Guangyao to commit on his behalf (and then maybe I’ll treat you like my actual son, maybe), but when he tries to express that, Nie Mingjue is like ‘can’t you just endure more, though??’ He builds a temple with a statue with the face of his dead beloved mother, and the public is like ‘omg, he made that statue with his OWN FACE, can you believe it??’

In some ways, the way Lan Xichen determinedly loves and trusts him makes it all hurt even worse. I absolutely believe Jin Guangyao when he says that he never once wanted to act against Lan Xichen. So many of the terrible decisions Jin Guangyao makes tie so directly to him seeking either safety or security. But he works hard in social gatherings to keep the peace and people think he’s two-faced. He endures years of mistreatment before hitting back and people judge him for hitting back at all and say that well, what else could we have respected from someone with that background. Nie Mingjue threatens to kill him multiple times, and he was a very straightforward, honest man, of course Jin Guangyao was frightened of him and decided it was safer to see him dead. I live for the pain of seeing a character I love make decisions I strongly disagree with, understanding why they’re making those decisions, and seeing other characters not understand, and simply hate them for the decisions.

This isn’t exactly new, this is why I’ll never be able to shake my love for Starscream, even if his quality of motivation... varies by continuity. And Pharma and Prowl are two of my favorite characters in all of idw1 for exactly this reason. I’ve got  at least three fics brushing up against Pharma’s resentment over ‘yes, i got ordered to run a hospital on a garbage planet I was sharing the most violent, sadistic decepticons in existence, I SURE WONDER WHY I WAS DRIVEN TO THIS DESPERATE POINT, BUT THE LOVE OF MY LIFE THINKS I’M JUST A TERRIBLE PERSON, SO I GUESS THAT’S THAT.’ 

And in the murderbot books, I genuinely get reduced to tears when murderbot has to deal with people compassionately interpreting its behavior instead of giving it no credit, the way its used to. I find the raksura books intensely, intensely satisfying in how Moon struggles to fit into a highly social, close-knit society after growing up so traumatized and alone, and how his colony gradually adapts to him and gets used to his quirks, instead of driving him out, the way he’s experienced so many times. No real conclusion here, I was just spacing out during a work training call, and got overtaken by how much I love characters who experience this particular flavor of emotional isolation.

[senadimell]

Boromir for the character ask?

send me a character and i’ll list:

favorite thing about them: Honestly? His focus. He's a problem-solver. He focuses on whatever task is in front of him, and while he's the golden child, I honestly don't know if he'd be the best fit for Steward because he seems to be at his best when he's thinking about concrete solutions to discrete problems.

Oh! The other thing is that he evaluates the advice given to him for what it is, not based on the authority of the advisor. He’s not going to accept bad advice just because it comes from a trustworthy source, and he’s going to be honest about his thoughts. So he’ll trust and respect the advice of the council of Elrond, but not to the point where he doesn’t ask questions or question things that don’t make sense (I’m thinking about Caradhras here) It’s a good skill to have as the de-facto heir to Gondor, and it makes sense that he’s not in awe of elves or Gandalf and acts among them as a guest but also as an equal at least in political status, though his experience is vastly more limited.

At the same time, he’s not arrogant or haughty. He's a team player. He’s supportive of decisions for the most part, though where the ring is concerned, things get skewy. He’s not the kind of person to rub mistakes back in your face. He’s compassionate and understanding (which we see even in the way he treats Frodo as he strives for the Ring).

least favorite thing about them: Honestly Boromir doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I suppose his positive traits are also double-edged swords. Focusing more on the advice than the giver sort of has Feanor vibes? And you can see where his focus leads him when he talks to Frodo about why he wants the ring and how he would use it. He can see his corner of the world (Gondor) and his place in saving it (political, but primarily military leadership), and it’s his practicality, drive, and focus that the Ring exploits. He’s too busy thinking about what he must do to save the day that he misses the grander scheme (yet he’s doing it because he cares! he cares!).

brOTP: Um, Faramir, I guess. Though I guess it’d be kinda sweet if he’s got a brotherly relationship with Bergil. I can easily imagine Bergil hero-worshipping Boromir, and so I think it’d be sweet if Boromir did acknowledge him and know him by name.

OTP: none? look, I rarely ship and even more rarely out of canon.

nOTP: also none? Shelob? The Ring?

random headcanon: I dunno...

unpopular opinion: boromir has dark hair Sean Bean is an actor he’s not the only face

So I feel like there’s a bit of a structural problem with the LotR fandom. Characters are often written in pairs or as foils, and inevitably the comparison starts to turn towards “who’s better?” Then, if you don’t ship them, there’s a tendency to aggrandize one character’s virtues and minimize their flaws (which tends to happen everywhere), but then the comparison game starts. Because they have a paired character, the natural next step is to lionize your favorite by de-emphasizing the other character’s strengths and virtues (and sometimes also highlighting their flaws). (I’m not immune to this by far, btw, and am possibly about to engage in it.)

This happen the most with Frodo and Sam, but I think you also see it in Boromir and Faramir. Because obviously, in the books, Faramir is the golden child. Not in his father’s eyes, of course, but narratively speaking. And I have mad respect for him.

Most people don’t try and diss Faramir (because frankly. it’s hard. like, what are you going to say?), but there’s a tendency to downplay the fact that Boromir is his culture’s golden child, and Faramir...isn’t. Which isn’t to say Faramir isn’t beloved by those who know him, but his strengths are not valued in the same way that Boromir’s are. Faramir knows this. And given Boromir’s attitudes discussed above (how confidently he assumes his position in the world), I can’t believe he’s the 100% supportive, loving, sensitive, protective brother that fanon depicts him as. I don’t see how he can be.

Don’t get me wrong, I do believe the brothers love each other deeply. But growing up with siblings has taught me that it’s possible to love someone and yet be deeply wounded by them due to the casual and inescapable intimacy of your relationship? You can share more inside jokes and weird stories than anyone, yet you can never get away from how deeply they know you--not your thoughts, but who you are at home and who you were when you were seven and how you acted when someone broke up with you or what you did when your parents were furious.

You also know exactly how you match up against them, because you will always exist as a unit. And because your relationship is as natural as the lens  in your eye (you can’t imagine viewing the world without it), you forget about the other as a person and just say something and don’t think about how it hurts them. You can joke about this one thing and your sibling can carry around the hurt for years and you didn’t even know. And maybe the hurt isn’t even your fault--maybe they were just sensitive and you had no way of knowing, but the hurt doesn’t go away for the lack of malice. And even best-friend siblings are capable of malice towards each other at times.

So Boromir is good at things that Faramir isn’t, and Boromir knows it. He’s probably ribbed his brother in what he thinks is a playful way about when you’re going to shape up, or do X, or do Y, or why do you do that, anyways, or do you realize that’s a little unbecoming? maybe you should stop that. You know Father’s going to think that you’re... And he doesn’t realize how those slights can add up over the years. I do think he’s said things to his peers about his brother that have ended up hurting him. No matter how pure and nice he is, that sort of thing is unavoidable, and due to his cultural upbringing I don’t actually think he’d question the appropriateness of his attitude/acceptance and glorification of martial prowess at the expense of those who don’t have it in the same degree.

I think this passage is really telling:

For on the eve of the sudden assault a dream came to my brother in a troubled sleep; and afterwards a like dream came oft to him again, and once to me. 'In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying:          Seek for the Sword that was broken:          In Imladris it dwells;          There shall be counsels taken          Stronger than Morgul-spells.          There shall be shown a token          That Doom is near at hand,          For Isildur's Bane shall waken,          And the Halfling forth shall stand. Of these words we could understand little, and we spoke to our father, Denethor, Lord of Minas Tirith, wise in the lore of Gondor. This only would he say, that Imladris was of old the name among the Elves of a far northern dale, where Elrond the Halfelven dwelt, greatest of lore-masters. Therefore my brother, seeing how desperate was our need, was eager to heed  the  dream and seek for  Imladris; but since the way was full of doubt and danger, I took the journey upon myself. Loth was my father to  give  me leave, and long have I wandered by roads forgotten, seeking the house of Elrond, of which many had heard, but few knew where it lay.' 

There’s so much you can read into this. Faramir has this dream, and he has it many times. We know he’s a lover of lore and no less devoted to his kingdom than Boromir, though his love is expressed differently. He is “eager” to heed the dream. So would I if I was having prophecy dreams all the time.

But is Faramir a member of the fellowship? No. Why? Because Boromir “took it upon himself.” He wanted to do it, he thought himself the better candidate (and Faramir the worse), and he argued his way into doing it against his father’s wishes. Coupled with Denethor’s later attitude towards Boromir, I’m inclined to believe Boromir was uniquely able to obtain this quest for himself because Denethor has a soft spot for him.

I find myself inclined to disregard Boromir’s account of Faramir’s motive (”how desparate was our need”), because it sounds like he’s justifying the appropriateness of his actions.  If it’s just about the great need of the kingdom, it’s nothing personal that one brother goes and the other stays. That view implies  that Faramir’s interest in this mission is primarily utilitarian in purpose, with a little academic curiosity--that is, it’s nothing personal. Doesn’t matter who goes! Not as long as we protect the kingdom! Which...just doesn’t square with his description of Faramir having repeatedly cryptic dreams that he wants to understand. I can almost guarantee that Faramir wants to know what those dreams meant more than Boromir.

It’s a bit tragic, because ultimately Faramir was more suited for the quest than Boromir (tramping about in the wilderness doesn’t seem to be a problem, he’s also a team player, and he’s much more willing to accept the power of the Ring/not downplay its personal danger, and would be able to see it in a bigger picture beyond just Gondor). Ultimately, though, if Boromir was the one to catch Frodo in Ithillien, the story would have a veeeeeeery different ending. (Gollum would likely be dead, and I can’t imagine he’d be inclined to just. let Frodo and Sam go free.)

I kind of view their relationship as a much less antagonistic version of Agravain and Gwalchmai from Gillian Bradshaw. (Agravain is more of a jerk than I can ever imagine Boromir being, and has a wicked temper). 

Also none of this is to say that I don’t think he’s not protective of his brother.

So a lot of words to say: I don’t think the Boromir and Faramir relationship is as uwu cinnamon roll as it seems in fandom. I think they loved each other, but I think Boromir did have a tendency to take what he wanted when he thought he deserved it and not give it a second thought, even when it was at the expense of his brother. Sure, he’d defend his brother night and day, but I expect him to be a bit of a jerk, be unaware of the extent of his behavior, and also see little wrong with it (the ring quest seems to have crossed a line, by the way he justifies it).

Still, they do love each other deeply and genuinely. It’s just a little more conflicted.

song i associate with them: Requiem, from Dear Evan Hanson. Not a particularly creative association (and I don’t associate him with Connor at all), but his death comes as such a shock at the beginning of TTT and brings with it so many mixed feelings due to both their relationship and the circumstances of his death. Nobody’s mourning is straightforward: not Frodo, or Denethor, or Faramir, or Aragorn, or Merry, or Pippin. His absense is woven throughout TTT and even RotK, in plot and in emotion and in theme.

favorite picture of them:

Don’t really have a favorite, but this one is nice.

The Sean Bean runners-up: one, two

[mystickitten42]

AO3 Tag Game

Thanks so much for the tag @peachpety 😘 I thoroughly enjoyed reading yours.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 27 (+ 2 in fests) 2. What is your total AO3 word count? 134,448 (But if things go according to plan, I’ll be adding another 50-60k to that in 2-3 months). 3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? I’ve only ever published HP (all Drarry, except for one rare pair that’s part of an upcoming non-anon fest). But before I got into Drarry, I experimented with some dystopian Malec (Shadowhunters). 4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Potter’s Ravine (E, 23k)

Harry is undeniably numb. Still reeling from the sudden death of his godfather, he’s back at the Dursleys and everything seems hopeless. One day bleeds into the next. But, as they say, nature abhors a vacuum…

Draco is unimpressed. The Dark Lord and his infernal giant snake have taken over Malfoy Manor and he’s confined to his rooms. He feels like a prisoner and it’s just not right. He’s a Malfoy. Itching for confrontation he decides to go visit Harry Potter.

Things don’t go according to plan.

The Time in Between (E, 42k)

Harry never wanted to be the Chosen One. Draco refused the Dark Mark. Together, they set out to create something new. But can they outrun their destiny?

~ or ~

The one where Harry sets everything on fire, Draco confronts the darkness within, and Narcissa will do anything to keep them safe.

Light up Your Lust (E, 1k)

All it takes is a Cornish Pixie, a spilled potion and everything becomes quite clear.

Malfoy sputters, “That’s ridiculous, Potter. I don’t want to – ”

“Then tell me to stop.”

But the only noise Malfoy makes is a breathy sigh as Harry dives back in and kisses his jaw, plunders his incandescent lips, before he follows the glowing path south…

The Naughty List (E, 2K)

In which Hermione takes Harry to an art class and the model is familiar, blond, and pointy.

Malfoy steps up onto the round platform and casually lets his robe slip to the ground. As he adopts a pose, Harry’s jaw drops. Draco Malfoy is a work of art.

“Close your mouth, Harry,” Hermione whispers, and Harry does.

When Death Comes Calling (T, 2k)

It’s All Hallows’ Eve and as Harry investigates a string of seemingly related deaths, there’s one he hopes to prevent. He looks over Harry’s shoulder and Harry turns too. They both see it, the dark translucent figure making its way to shore.

~ Or ~ Getting together in the face of Death. Literally.

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not? OMG, I appreciate each and every single comment I receive. When I’m feeling down, I go back and re-read comments. I do try to respond to every one, but sometimes it takes a little while (depending on spoons, life, and writing deadlines). 6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? I love happy endings, so most of my fics end happily or hopefully. But I have one fic, written for My Bloody Valentine 2021, that does not have a happy ending.  You’re the Only One for Me (M, 1k, MCD, mind the tags)

After all these years, Draco's still the one.

7. Do you ever write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve every written? I have not written any crossovers... yet. I might. I might not. But I have contemplated Drarry with Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (I’m a big fan, hence the ‘42′ in my pseud), or with Lost Souls (by Poppy Z. Brite, a vampire novel set in New Orleans).

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic? I’d have to say any ‘hate’ I’ve received has been minimal (although it thoroughly bummed me out at the time). But I received a lot of support from fellow Drarry authors and took their advice (deleted the comments without responding to them). Many others have received comments far worse than those I received and it makes me sad. 9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Ha! You may have noticed 4/5 of my top five are rated E. I love reading and writing smut. I’ve mostly written M/M, but I do have some F/F in the works. I adore porn with feelings, and angsty, angry sex that leads to feelings.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge. 11. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I never thought I would (I’m too much of a control freak 😂) but I co-wrote two during Exploding Snap 2021, and I had a blast! It was so much fun, amazingly refreshing, and I would totally do it again. The Stars on the Calendar (T, 2k, with @anaxandria-writes)

Harry accepted there were many things he and Draco would always argue about. He just didn’t think sex would ever be one of them.

Midnight Rendezvous (T, 696 words, with @cequonveut)

The Fat Lady gets an eyeful while portrait hopping down the seventh-floor corridor.

12. What’s your all-time favourite ship? Drarry!!!!! But I also love Grudders, Roarmac (thanks Peach!), Jeddy, Scorbus, Charlie Weasley with pretty much anyone, and various poly ships. Outside of HP, I also have a soft spot for Malec and Jimon (Shadowhunters) and Steve/Ghost (Lost Souls). 13. What was the first fandom you wrote for? HP is the only fandom I’ve published in. But as I mentioned above, I have an incomplete Malec burning a hole in my hard drive. Maybe one day I’ll finish it… or maybe I won’t… 14. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written? As much as I adore writing drabbles and short fics, I really love to become immersed in my longer chaptered fics. All of them are my favourites. I’ve already mentioned my Old Magic series (Potter’s Ravine, The Time in Between, and I’m currently working on the third installment). But my other recent fav is my Wireless fic: Until It All Comes Undone (E, 38k). 

Following his confrontation with Voldemort, Harry returns from King’s Cross Station completely changed. He wakes up at Privet Drive with no memory of his past, the war or magic. Petunia, widowed and suffering from empty nest syndrome, is only too happy to turn Harry into Dudley 2.0.

But something’s not quite right. Plagued by recurring nightmares, Harry can’t help but feel something is missing. A bottle of his cousin’s LSD helps him to forget his worries… Magic may not be real, but the hallucinations and the hot blond he meets all feel pretty magical to Harry.

Having turned his back on his family, Draco is determined to start over and do the right thing. But he’s never made good decisions when it comes to Harry Potter. When Potter—presumed dead, but very much alive—unexpectedly returns, Draco will do anything for a second chance. Even if it means pretending not to know who he is…

This idea burned inside me for nearly a year and refused to be silent. Writing this terrified me, because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to write it the way I wanted it to be written. Completing this story was an amazing journey and really taught me to believe in myself. (And, of course, I’m eternally grateful to my amazing beta, @peachpety 🥰)

I apologise in advance if I’m double tagging anyone (and, of course, no pressure!) @pennygalleon, @andithiel, @cequonveut, @anaxandria-writes, @eelwinks, @thesleepiesthufflepuff, @evaeleanor

[beetleboo]

long post. one i’ve been trying to make for a while now. hell, i wrote this like... third week of may. didn’t post it until now because i didn’t know if I wanted to.

but something i want to lay out, been wanting to lay out for months. dont want to talk to anyone about it, just want to put the info out there for it to be seen.

if you re/blog this i will block you. i may put this on the relevant sideblog at some point.

because 2020 was the worst year on record for me for a number of reasons, and it’s torn me down to the lowest point i’ve been in a long time, and this is just. everything that’s gone down. not a callout post, no one gets named, but these are all the events

partially in relation to my fandom sideblog, because that’s where i had community, and where it’s all just. gone. doesnt exist anymore.

i started up a server, ages ago now. somewhere i curated to be a positive and safe space for things, and for a while, it was that.

around the end of 2019, spilling over to the start of 2020 when it picked up, i found, both on my blog and in discord spaces, in particular the server i ran, that people no longer talked to me. no one would hold a conversation with me past a few basic responses, no one replied to anything i shared, no one engaged when i tried to start discussions. so i pulled back from the main server - S1. thought it was just a lull in activity. stayed that way for weeks, months, and I just muted the server. no one ever cared about anything i had to say. was lucky if anything i posted got even a token emoji react

was in another, smaller server - S2. people i talked to damn near every day, even in voice. played games together - that became... no fun simply because everyone else was so much better/further ahead in the game. i was completely useless, so didn’t server a function in game and never really felt like anyone actively wanted me around, but i still participated in chat.

but again, no one ever responded to anything I posted beyond maybe a token react

couple people discussing something one day. I contributed with Theory A, and quite immediately got that shut down. few minutes later, they rephrased exactly what I said and happily nattered away. so whatever I said wasn’t worth it when it came out of my mouth but if they talked about it, it was all well and valid. so again, between that specific experience and no one interacting with me, nor anything I post. server muted. treatment taught me no one cared about my presence there.

gave admin rights to S1, my server, to someone I trusted. two requests only: dont delete channels and let me know if you want to invite anyone (since I kept it private)

RYE (i’m just assigning random three letter names to people to keep this straight) posted public invites several times. never asked me. one of the two things i asked. brought it up with them that it bothered me, just got vague noncomittal responses. more public invites. eventually, after having the server muted for months, i handed over full control and left. that was almost a full year ago. none of the people have talked to me in that entire year, through discord or here or anything.

except RYE who sent me a message after a couple months like ‘wow i havent heard from you in a while hope you’re doing ok’. i wasn’t. after a bit but still the same day, i said as much. that i wasn’t doing well. they never responded. and i don’t mean like, they didn’t respond that day. i mean i literally never heard from them until months later when they sent me a meme and also didn’t respond to me commenting on that meme.

and this is one side of things. all of the above was the first half of the year. this next bit happened about. march2020? I was in another server - S3. another place that was a good space at the time. was in voice chat with two other people. started talking about one thing. MIN very suddenly said something along the lines of ‘i don’t care about this i’ll come back when you’re done’

this is one of the very few things that can trigger me - i’ve had a lot of people talk down to me if I dare look excited about anything. when they came back, i asked if they could try to just. depart conversations more softly. MIN always said ‘if i do anything hurtful to you just tell me! i dont want to do that kind of thing!’

this was clearly a lie as they exploded on me, telling me they always have to walk on eggshells around me, that I ask so many things from them. before what I asked them that day, I can only recall one other thing i asked (which was not to talk about a person who was abusive towards me, and they were like ‘yea sure np’ about that, over a year prior’)

the whole thing turned into basically me having to shut down the fact that i was hurt by what they did, had to ignore that now and i had to fawn and placate them and the only thing i got out of that was that my feelings were irrelevant, only theirs.

(incidentally, I have had two other people turn on me in similar ways, accusing me of doing shifty/bad/terrible things, and not being willing to tell me what they are when I ask, only saying that ‘i should know what i did’ so that’s also now a Fun New Bit Of Trauma.)

and that entire weeklong event lead me straight to a breakdown. literal genuine breakdown i cannot convey how devastating that entire scenario was without going into far too many details.

so between all of these things happening in less than six months, with three different community spaces folding and collapsing and fading away from me, with many of the friends i thought i had just. moving on to other things and dropping me. people i talked to every day just not bothering with me anymore. they all have gone on to other stuff and no one ever went ‘hey beets wanna see what i’m up to’ or ‘wanna do this thing with me’

a handful of instances of me saying ‘yeah i’m dealing with these fears that have been reinforced lately that people aren’t safe to deal with, even thought part of me knows they’re probably irrational it feels like i have evidence to back it up’ and people immediately take it personally like i’m saying they’re not safe. despite. me outright saying. i know logically it should be irrational. but their reactions just reinforce it so it’s just a loop and tells me, again, never to bring up any of my problems with anyone.

so this all just reinforces that there’s something wrong with me. couple years back i spoke to a friend and how i was frustrated that I seemed to end up in bad spaces and they said ‘well you’re the one thing in common so its probably your fault’ and obviously they’re not my friend anymore but that has affected me so deeply. i can’t do anything without overthinking, whenever anything goes wrong i tear apart everything i’ve done and everything i’ve said or thought and i don’t know why things keep going bad. i try so hard but i’m just. not right.

so it all teaches me that there’s no point in reaching out in trying to talk to people because if i say ‘hey this hurt me’ i get ignored at best or torn down, yelled at, scolded. no point in trying to talk to new people because everyone just walks away at some point. not even a natural drift apart, i can handle that. but just very suddenly, they’re gone, off with better people doing better things.

roundabout, ties back to ‘consumption versus community’ - this is why i’ve been struggling so hard with lack of engagement on my sideblog. lucky to get a dozen notes on anything i make, unless it’s something other people can use (like mods) and even THEN it’s rare to see much activity. and that was FINE because i had people to talk to elsewhere, who would ask questions and we could back and forth and i shared my stuff and they shared those and it didnt matter if my posts only got a dozen notes because i had friends to talk to.

now i get (example) seven notes, six of which are likes and one is a reblog with no commentary. when i have something with a ton of notes, still, minimal commentary, no one talks to me. even on a mod with five hundred notes it just feels like i went ‘hey i made something :)’ and everyone picked it up and walked away with it, no one went ‘hey this is cool i want to talk to the person who made it.’

and it just feels like 95% of the time, i’m just overlooked. 

and it’s worse than it’s ever been in my entire life, and I wonder, what’s the point of any of this anymore.

why bother to make the posts to share when it all just gets passed by. what’s the point in trying to reach out to new people and make friends when i get lashed out at or left behind? the social is gone out of my social media. i had community, and now it’s gone.

so this has all been going on for months and months and months and hey! suffering. and i dont expect it to get any better, don’t expect this post to fix these issues, but i’ve been trying to say something about all of this for fucking months and i think just, laying it all out is all I can do about it. i’m sure i’ve forgotten some things to touch on but as it is, all these events, all of it happening all together. new traumas, old traumas reawoken, reinforced, i’ve been torn to pieces i don’t know how to function, i can’t remember the last time i felt like even half a real person. taught that the safe, positive spaces that meant so much to me don’t actually exist and they’ll all turn on me and be torn away. nowhere is safe anymore, and trying to make it safe is just going to ruin me again.

people aren’t safe, places aren’t safe, been proven to me time and time again so i just. stay away.

no matter how much i try to fight that, it just doesnt work.

anyway tl;dr beets needs therapy probably

[feckin-zicons]

that's why i hate larries, i hate them with all my heart. besides being boring they are hypocrites 🙄

Hey nonnie, sorry its taken me so long to reply but if you’re following me you know I’ve been travelling lately and have been more scatterbrained than usual. Not that I’m ever not scatterbrained, but its been just a little crazier than usual!

Now I wouldn’t go as far to say I hate Larries. After all their delusions can be pretty funny sometimes!

Joking aside, I don’t hate Larries, I love Larries, I’m a Larry, so I really hesitate to tarry the whole group with the same brush. However I do strongly agree with you that there are those who are complete hypocrites. Nothing annoys more more than when Larries ™ treat the other boys, other celebrities, their friends and even family as one more side character to the Larry Show.

In particular when Larries ™ flood comment sections asking or in some cases, ordering people to confirm rumors/the couple being together. The absolute fucking disrespect. Not just because they’re flooding comment sections in videos streams, tweets, what have you, that sometimes have nothing to do with the couple in question, but because its presumptuous and rude as fuck to think they’re owed a coming out- just because they’re fans of the boys.

Stop it. Thats fucking ugly as hell.

While I have no doubt all the boys will one day be out (as referenced by their continued efforts in fighting the closet. I don’t get the sense the boys will just stop at being freed from their contractual obligations). It should and will be on their own terms. Provided they’re not forcibly outed some other way.

Coming out is a deeply personal experience and no one, no one ever, has the right to out someone else. I’ll never not be absolutely furious at the Larries ™ who posted about having ‘receipts’ that would out the boys. Which… tbh weren’t receipts at all but thats a whole other story. I’m also still angry at the reactions after Liams Attitude spread that wouldn’t have been as bad if not for the entitled fandom that peddled ridiculous claims beforehand about Liam confirming Larry to be real.

I mean… What the actual fuck. Setting aside the fandom experience of the time, and boy was it an experience. What right would Liam have confirming Louis and Harry’s relationship? I mean, get some perspective? It doesn’t help that a lot of fandom adults were the ones coming up with, and reblogging those theories and the younger fans ate it up. It would have made more sense for Louis and Harry to do it but idk maybe I’m still out of touch for thinking so. I mean, it felt like every other week someone was talking about Larry coming out. It was such a shit storm oh my god.

Biggest issue I still have with them is that the entitled behaviour hasn’t stopped. For some it seems like, Larry coming out is it for them. Like pack it up, goodbye, shows over, Louis and Harry are gay and in a relationship and everything is rainbows, we get to see cute pictures of them and everyone lives happily ever after.

Yeah, no. Coming out, for anyone, is just the beginning, can’t even begin to imagine what its like for them. They’re still going to need everyones support, and it irritates me that for some fans it seems so fucking conditional.

Time and time again, I’ve seen tweets, and posts, and videos, whatever, going on about Larry coming out and it reads like a fucking wattpad story. Not just that but its always on the assumption by the poster, on the off chance they consider the other 3/5ths of the band and Ziam being a possibility, that Larry will come out first?

What?

I’m sorry but, what?

Everything I’ve seen from the boys tells me they’re all in this together, they support each other and are working through the bullshit as a team. We have all seen the No Judgement music video yes? The merch, posts, double speak etc referencing each other, yes?

I mean, I suppose if you only look at Louis and Harry, like so many do, sure. Only Larry matters, everyone else is a side character in their life.

(Lemme just, scream for a second).

However, that kind of thinking leads them to the wrong conclusions. Like… assuming the SBB/RBB countdown was attributed to nothing, when it counted down to Liam finally being free of Sophia. In the years since, I’ve seen Larries ™ backtrack on claiming the bears had anything to do with the boys, that they weren’t behind it at all, or that they were just trolling the fandom.

You know, despite all the proof otherwise, and some really, really good posts breaking down clues about what the boys were trying to tell us. The moment something might not actually be about Louis and Harry its like all their thinking shuts off. Its frustrating. Really fucking frustrating.

Seriously, fans of the other boys as individulas, not just Ziams, have been talking about the stunts too and how they fit together. Its why we tend to be right, because we’re considering the entire group. They’re still a group. They’re not free until all of them are free.

Just for that Nialls coming out first. Lmao. I’ll call it now. Lets go Niall, whens the baby coming. We all wanna know. Its been years.

Imagine, imagine! Acting like coming out is some race to be won. The fucking audacity.

Go outside and touch fucking grass you absoulte ninny.

I get it, you want to be vindicated, you want to be rewarded for putting your faith in two celebrities being together.

Newsflash you dandelionfluff, its not a race, Louis and Harry coming out isn’t a fucking prize. Thats not what supporting a relationship looks like.

Its worse when someone admits they don’t know much about Ziam or the possibility of Niall being LGBT+, and claim they’re open to it, but then immediately tweet or reblog or sub tweet or tag comment a post or answer an ask from another Larry ™ talking about how Larries ™ are the most marginalized and persecuted group.

???

In what fucking world?

IN WHAT FUCKING WORLD?

If we wanna play that game, boohoo, the media claims Louis and Harry aren’t friends anymore because of crazy shippers. Meanwhile Zayn publicly isn’t friend with anyone and “left” the band… despite the Ziam fandom calling the stunt about either Louis or Zayn “leaving” and getting it down to the exact week (the second article coming out a week before about the Ziam kiss pretty much cemented it for Zayn leaving. Which did a lot to fan the flames of the already rabid fanbase when Ziam got two articles confirming a Ziam kiss over the years and Larry got nada. Like that actually means anything).

Not to mention Larries ™ using the hetties and management tactics against the other parts of the fandom to silence them.

Who cares what the media says anyway!  TPTB, 1DHQ, The Sun, The Mirror, Simon and his minions and their unpaid interns have used the media to split the fandom apart and it worked.

Who the fuck cares if the media calls the 1D stans delusional, you know the truth! The truth it out there and you’ve seen it! The truth is coming! Who gives a damn about what some two bit “journo” who failed out of their creative writing course writes? They get worse by the year. If it wasn’t so pathetic and hilarious I might actually feel embarrassed for them. They can’t even come up with new stories and have just taken to copying old articles, but you’re upset with them??? Give it a rest. Honestly.

The sense of disconnect, entitlement and victimhood of some Larries ™ is absolutely ridiculous.

Oh my god they’re Karens. I’m not trying to be insulting, but thats exactly who they remind me of.

I’m not going to say its a surprise to me that so many in the Ziam fandom are POC, LGBT+, and Neurodivergent and any combination of those, but I am going to say I’ve read a lot of Larry fics that just have Het sex made gay. Those in the Ziam fandom just tend to look at facts in a different way than Larries do due to their life experiences. A interfaith, interracial, relationship where one or both partners fall under the Bi umbrella (not saying Louis or Harry can’t be or aren’t Bi+ but rumors, and the way the fandom markets them, puts them firmly in the gay category) looks very, very different than gay or straight relationship. Both looking from outside and being in one. There’s just different dynamics at play that aren’t often realized or understood by the gays and hets.

Its not a bad thing. All relationships are different. The issue is that theres a lot of biphobia/racism/religious prejudice etc that arises from people being unwilling to understand the inherent differences.

Taking myself for example, I’m bi, like, bi as hell, and I don’t understand how gays and hets only like one gender. I just don’t. Can’t wrap my head around it. If someone asks me to choose one gender over the others to prefer I can’t. Its so stressful. My brain goes into panic mode and it feels like I’m being torn apart. My sense of identity is shaken- its a shit feeling. I just can’t lie to myself like that. If other people feel the same well, its no wonder bi+ have such high rates of depression and suicide. Its not about choosing who to like, there is no choice, I just feel attraction to everyone. Aces, I get. Its similar to being the opposite of what I feel, or not feeling an attraction to someone I’m not interested in. Easy. Gays and hets? I’m completely lost on.

Completely, and I know I’m not the only one who feels that way. But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to try and understand where they’re coming from. Its alien to me, personally, but I’m not going to shut down the fact, that theres a fuck ton of people who only like one gender or try and make up reasons as to why they’re actually bi+

I digress, none of the boys fall neatly into the gay stereotypes, its just that parts of the Larry fandom have boxed Louis and Harry into certain roles to fit preconceived notions (likely do to them initially fitting in better with the white, sassy, somewhat effeminate twink thats been plastered all over Hollywood as their “LGBT+ representation” for years. Gag), they can understand better, and only look for proof to back up their theories but don’t look at things objectively.

They really need to get out more and make some LGBT+ friends that aren’t on the internet and talk to some gay elders. They need educating that’s not the often sanitized and insulting Hollywood version, that’s all I’m saying.

They made Louis and Harry more palatable for themselves and its… really gross.

I don’t know, I don’t get it.

Some Larries ™ turned the boys into their fandom and fanfiction stereotypes when they’re so much more than that. The Sony leaks should have been enough to dissuade the fandom, and prove that the brand sold to the broader audience is just that- a brand, and yet… Niall only talks about food and golf and Ireland and is only allowed to be straight or ace. If he exists at all its just to be Capt Niall. Liams slow and dumb and depending on the day he’s either Capt Liam or a horrific abusive homophobe. Zayns just The Worst, a unstable drug addict, and the boys hate each other, and they should have kicked him out of the band sooner because he never wanted to be part of them anyway, etc.

It drives me absolutely around the bend some days. They’re real people who don’t owe anyone anything, especially not coming out.

Yes, I think they will. But they’re not obligated to. They can change their minds, I’ll support them regardless of an “official” coming out or not.

Look, a part of me gets it. They wanna be right, they wanna prove the haters wrong, they want to be able to say I called it all along! The vindication will be sweet.

But like, it takes a quick look at someone other than Louis and Harry to realize theres something hinky going on with Liam, Zayn and Niall. Please listen to their fans who have spent just as much time as you have looking into Louis and Harry compiling together evidence.

It might take a weekend to watch the ILYSM and pterodactyl bros videos and a few more hours looking into some Niall blogs, which isn’t much compared to the hours I know they’ve spent looking into Larry. At least then they’ll have enough information to form an opinion on things.

I wonder, for some, what would happen if Larry didn’t come out, or didn’t come out first, or one of the other boys was outed against their will. Because… I don’t know. It seems like some would rather just be proven right at this point.

I get it. We’re tired. Its been eleven long years. But this isn’t a television show were everything can come to a head with a s3 or s4 cliff hanger and fixed in the series finale. Its real life, and they started off as boys trusting industry veterans who never had their best interests at heart.

Iduno. I just want some Larries ™ to take a step out of the echo chamber, realize life isn’t The Larry Show & co. And especially. ESPECIALLY, that every instance were someone, friends, family, co-works, industry peeps etc support the boys they are SUPPORTING THE BOYS, NOT THE FANDOM. They are not “confirming Larry for the fans” they’re doing it to support the couple, not to cater to the fandom. Please stop confusing the two. There’s a huge fucking difference. Learn it.

[ashyblondwaves]

When The Summer Dies

Prompt: Watching the Sunrise

Fandom: Scarletvision (Wanda Maximoff and Vision, MCU)

Word Count: 2343

Warnings: Ghosts! Paranormal experiences.

***

The world flew by in hues of green and orange, the late summer sun hanging in the sky for just a little while longer. Vision sat in the driver’s seat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as Deadmau5 played over the car stereo. The GPS said they’d arrive at their destination in 7 minutes. Wanda shifted in her seat excitedly.

Visiting what all of the paranormal enthusiast YouTubers called “the most haunted farm in New York” was Wanda’s idea. Vision much preferred hobbies with tangible evidence of the truth, but he was going for Wanda’s sake. She’d been itching to get out and visit some haunted locales, and after the mission they’d just returned from, they needed to get away for a little while.

The story was that the large farmhouse on the property made anyone that owned and lived in the home lose their minds. Families had been murdered in that house. Their ghosts are said to still roam the farm each night. Some ghosts were harmless while others were angry. Very angry. The challenge from YouTube was to stay on the farm overnight to see if you can make it to sunrise. There were no prizes involved, just bragging rights were up for grabs. Of course, what they don’t remind you is that stepping foot on the property was technically trespassing, but the small town cops didn’t bother with enforcing that law unless things got rowdy there, but you could count on one hand how many times it had happened.

Vision spotted the farm right away. The intimidating white house came into view first. The green shutters hung by a single hinge on most of the windows. The dilapidated barn followed and as they crested the hill, land. So much land. Most of it overgrown with weeds and shrubbery now that it had been vacant for so long.

As luck would have it, it looked like Wanda and Vision were the only ones staying there that night. They pulled right up to the old discolored house and started their adventure.

“It’s 6:53pm on September 21st,” Vision said. “Sunset tonight is 7:24pm with a sunrise of 7:14am on September 22nd, which also marks the first day of autumn.”

“That gives us about 12 hours here,” Wanda said with a nod. She took a deep breath. “We can do this.”

Vision was skeptical. He knew that every breeze would have them on the edge of their seats, every owl call and every leaf that fell from the trees and all because of tales told on the internet for views and monetary compensation. Vision stopped, choosing to instead remind himself that this was for Wanda. Her hobby was important to her and it would be imprudent to dismiss it.

“We’ll set up the tent there,” Wanda started, pointing to an area about 50 yards away that seemed to be perfectly cleared of any shrubbery. “That must be where everyone else sets up, too.”

It was dark by the time they finished setting up the tent. Wanda, flashlight in hand, found Vision coming back to the car. She put her arms out, prompting him to walk into her them. She hugged him, pressing her cheek to his chest.

“Thank you for doing this,” she said, looking up to see Vision smiling down at her. “I know this is the last place you want to be right now.”

“Anywhere you are is where I want to be,” Vision assured her. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and swayed lightly with the breeze.

Maybe this won’t be so bad, Vision thought, holding onto Wanda just as the sound of a blood curdling scream echoed through the property. The pair split apart and looked around trying to find the source.

“You heard that, right?” Wanda asked, eyes darting around wildly. “Please tell me you heard that.”

“I heard it. It sounded like it came from the house,” Vision replied, turning towards the white eyesore, its paint peeling from every angle.

Wanda followed his movements and looked up into one of the second floor windows just in time to see a shadowy figure disappear.

“Shit!” Wanda squeaked, scrambling for her phone. “I just saw something in the window!”

With her phone in hand, Wanda began to record the house.

“Nothing is there, Wanda,” Vision said, looking up at the empty window.

“Not now, but there was!” Wanda insisted, ending the recording but keeping her phone out. “Maybe we should go in the house.”

“Wanda, NO,” Vision said as firmly as he could. “We agreed we’d stay away from the property.”

“I have to know what’s in there, Vis.” Wanda said. She grabbed a flashlight and trudged off toward the house.

“Darling?” Vision called, reluctantly jogging behind her. “Can we just think about this logically for a moment?”

“Now isn’t the time to be logical, Vis,” Wanda said, kicking the front door open.

“And now we’re felons,” Vision said, more to himself than Wanda.

As they walked into the dark and dusty house, Vision noticed the temperature decrease by at least 20 degrees. Wanda rubbed her arms to try to keep warm but continued forward, her feet causing the wood under their feet to squeak loudly.

It was when they were in the kitchen that they heard it. The sound of someone walking upstairs and the disembodied laughter of children whistling in the air. Wanda’s eyes grew wide. She said nothing as she bolted out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

Vision followed close behind. He didn’t have a flashlight like Wanda did, he was relying on the light from hers to guide him. They walked slowly, carefully as if not to scare whatever may be inhabiting the upstairs. Somehow it was even colder upstairs. So cold Wanda’s breath came out in clouds as she whispered to Vision.

“It was that window I saw someone in.”

She pointed to one of the bedrooms on the west end of the house and started toward it, flashlight leading the way. Once they were both inside the room, Wanda began to speak.

“Is anyone here?” she yelled into the air. “Give us a sign.”

Suddenly, the door neither one of them were near slammed shut, the sound of a lock clicking echoing through the room. Wanda ran to it, jiggling the door knob.

“It’s locked from the outside,” she said, looking at Vision with a smile. “Think you could help me out, sweetheart?”

“Yes, dear,” Vision returned. He easily phased through the door, unlocking it with the key that stuck out from the lock.

A small voice reverberated through the house.

“Play with me,” it said with a laugh, the door closed again. “Play.”

“It’s one of the kids,” Wanda whispered. “What do you want to play?!”

Vision could say nothing. He stood frozen to the spot as Wanda communicated with a ghost right in front of him. He always said he’d believe in ghosts when he saw one and here he was, with no other explanation for this phenomenon than the fact that there truly was a ghost in the house.

Wanda walked closer to the voice when suddenly, her body went flying back. Vision barely caught her.

“NO!” another voice said.

This time, all of the doors shut and locked while the front door downstairs flung itself open.

“Get out of my house!”

The voice was not a child’s this time. It was loud, booming and clearly that of a grown man. It was all Wanda had to hear. Her phone was out in no time, recording the scene.

“This isn't’ your house anymore!” Wanda yelled back. She ran to each locked door and opened them back up. “You can’t tell us to leave.”

“If you want us to leave,” Wanda said, spinning around to direct her voice everywhere. “You’ll have to make us.”

Vision cringed. He was ready to get out of that house as soon as he’d gone in it and now Wanda was challenging a ghost to forcibly remove them from the home.

“Time?” Wanda asked.

“9:43pm, darling. That gives us 9 hours and 17 minutes until sunrise.”

Wanda nodded, turning back to the void in the room.

“Sounds like you’re stuck with us for a while,” Wanda said, shining her flashlight at a dark corner of the house, but nothing was there.

Vision, with new found confidence, moved from standing behind Wanda to standing next to her. He grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” he said, turning to her. “I have your back in battle, I’ll have it here too, even if I don’t quite understand this.”

Wanda smiled, a large, toothy grin that said a million things. She stood up on her tiptoes and snuck a quick, chaste kiss.

“Now where was I?” Wanda said, her voice booming through the empty house. “Where is the ghost that wanted to play? We’ll play.”

Suddenly, out of the shadows of the same corner Wanda just looked at, a red ball rolled out, stopping right at their feet.

Wanda bent down and grabbed the ball, rolling it back to the dark corner it came from as the sound of a child laughing rang out.

But it was short lived. Just as the ball came rolling back it was pushed away by an invisible force.

“LEAVE!” a loud, male voice echoed.

“Wanda,” Vision said, their hands still interlocked. “Let’s be careful with this one. The child seems harmless, but this one wants us out.”

Just as Vision finished his sentence, the house started to shake as though there was an earthquake. Light fixtures swung back and forth, what little furniture was left in the house started to shift and move.

Wanda laughed.

“I’ve seen far worse than that. It’s going to take a lot more than that to scare us.”

“Darling,” Vision said through gritted teeth. “Is it wise to antagonize this ghost?”

But Wanda didn’t answer. The grip she had on Vision’s hand grew stronger, and Vision knew right away something was very wrong.

“Wanda?” he asked, turning to his girlfriend only to see her face contorting in pain. That ghost was doing something to her that Vision couldn’t see and he had only one idea. He scooped Wanda up in his arms and ran down the steps and toward the front door, taking Wanda out of the house and as soon as they were off the front porch, Wanda gasped, desperately trying to catch her breath. Her chest heaved violently as a strangled cry made its way from her mouth.

Vision pulled her to him, hugging her desperately, kissing the top of her head and pulling back to look at her.

“Do you need a doctor?” Vision asked. “I will take you right now. I don’t care one bit about this challenge if it’s going to put your life at risk.”

“No,” Wanda said feebly. “I’m fine, just a little shaken.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Time?”

“11:53pm,” Vision recited. 7 hours and 21 minutes until sunrise.”

“Let’s just go to the tent,” Wanda said, staggering off to where they set up their tent.

Vision followed behind, not liking at all what he just witnessed, but Wanda was determined to make it until sunrise. And now that they were out of the house, maybe it wouldn’t be as bad.

He was wrong.

Each incident came in unpredictable waves. First was the human-like howling that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. Then the shadowy figure cast against the tent, but when Vision looked out, nothing was there.

There’d be no sleeping that night. Not with the land trying to scare them away at every turn. Instead, they lay together in the tent, wrapped in each other’s arms. Soft whispers of encouragement that they will make it until sunrise permeated the tent.

It was after the shadows on the tent showed a murder that Wanda started shaking. Vision held her, kissed her head and reminded her it was just the ghosts.

Just the ghosts, Vision thought. He’d never thought he’d say something so ridiculous, but he also wasn’t prepared to deny what was happening on that land.

The stories were true, at least the ones stating the land was haunted. He had no idea how many ghosts had come to mess with them that night, but each one grew more and more terrifying.

“Time?” Wanda asked.

“5:47am,” Vision answered. “1 hour and 27 minutes until sunrise.”

“Listen,” Wanda said, sitting up for the first time since they got in the tent. “I hear birds chirping.”

Vision listened and sure enough, birds were chirping, a sure sign that sunrise was not far behind.

They exited the tent cautiously, both unsure of what may be waiting for them outside of it. But there was nothing. The morning twilight seemed to make it all stop. They broke down the tent without words, scrambling as quickly as they could to put it all away.

Vision took a seat on the hood of his car, a breath of relief coming out in a shaky wave. He patted the open spot next to him and smiled as Wanda slid up next to him.

“Time?”

“7:11am,” Vision replied. “Sunrise is in 3 minutes.”

Wanda nodded as they both sat on the hood of the car and watched the sun come up. Wanda set her head on Vision’s shoulder as they shed the horrors of the night and welcomed dawn.

“We did it,” Wanda said triumphantly. “We survived the night.”

“That we did,” Vision said with a nod.

“Celebratory selfie,” Wanda said, pulling her phone out and opening the camera.

Instead of smiling, Vision decided to do something else. Just as Wanda was getting ready to hit the shutter button, he turned her head with his fingers and kissed her right on the mouth.

The photo came out perfectly natural. It didn’t look forced or posed at all.

“There,” Vision said proudly. “Put that one on Instagram.”

[unmaskedagain]

Rather be Me (than with You)

Hey everyone. This is a kind of angsty ONE-SHOT; not the usual humor and fun I usual go for. I decided to do something a bit different. I experimented with the idea of a story where Lila doesn’t get exposed. Marinette just moves on. Decides she deserves better.  This ISN’T a QUEEN MARI but Marinette does realize she’s a queen. 

This is Anti-Class but not Lila bashing. I didn’t not to got the normal LILA BASHING everyone usually does. Don’t get me wrong, Lila Bashing is my favorite tag in this fandom. But I wanted to do something different. Tell me what you think and if you like it.

It had been a long time since Marinette had cared about their snickering; cared that sometimes she ate alone. Marinette hadn’t given a rat’s ass about what anyone in her damn class thought. She had been done for a long time.

A year had passed since Lila created the hurricane that pretty much turned Marinette’s life upside. A year since Alya had been her best friend, since Adrien was her crush. Since Ladybug’s partner was Chat Noir, a year since she was anyone’s everyday Ladybug.

These days the other students in class ignored her, and she was fine with it. The minute Marinette stepped back and decide to say, “Fuck Them.” Lila had left her alone. The Italian girl still side-eyed her every now and then but was content to let Marinette be. One thing Lila did right was that she saw Marinette exactly as she should be seen; an unbeatable threat, and one hell of pain in the neck if she tried hard enough. For a while, Lila was sure the Marinette would expose her, that every lie she spun would come undone.

But then one day, just a few months after Lila had returned, Marinette came to school with a big grin on her face. Lila said one tall tales, and the other girl didn’t even blink. Lila still remembered that their eyes met and saw: nothing. No longer did righteous fury reside there. No hurt expression. Or tears. Just apathy, sheer indifference to everyone in class.

Lila didn’t smile that day. In fact, she found it hard to really smile for the rest of the week. Because though technically she had won, it didn’t feel like a victory. It was like the game the two girls played had resulted in a stalemate and Marinette decided the battle was over. Marinette lost all her friends. Lila had no choice but to keep up the lies, particularly, after her mother announced they wouldn’t be moving like they usually would after a few months. It took a lot of work. Lila could admit that if she had know Paris was permanent, she’d have been a little more honest.

So, in the end, neither girl won but neither girl lost.

Nevertheless, Lila was smart. She knew when to back off. And so she did. She learned quickly that if she kept Marinette’s name out of her mouth, she was golden. Lila also learned that Marinette wasn’t made at Lila. It was everyone else the Asian girl had a problem with.

Everyone else in class who quickly realized just what life was like without their everyday ladybug.

Gone was the random sweets from her parents’ bakery. Gone was the well planned birthday parties and class trips. Gone was the comforting shoulder. Gone was the friend who they could call no matter time of day or night if they needed someone to talk to. Gone was their biggest supporter. Gone was the always friendly face that promised to brighten the darkest day.

           The kids learned quickly, that if they were in trouble, they were on their own. Apart from Akuma attacks, that Ladybug still showed up for. Though Ladybug had taken to ignoring the students, particularly Alya. Even going as far as to say to the teen reporter, in front of other journalists, that she doesn’t talk to tabloids; too many rumors and lies.

           This had slowly but surly caused the downfall of the Ladyblog. Alya could no longer get the best scoop; no that went to Aurore who created an entire website with tips and advice and videos about and straight from Ladybug. The website fully endorsed by the hero. Alya had quickly decided that she just needed to talk to Ladybug to clear up whatever was caught the strife. It was then that Alya remembered that Marinette had gotten her that first interview, the interview that had launched the Ladyblog’s success. Marinette who she was no longer friends with.

           Marinette who had it clear that she didn’t care. She didn’t are that Alya’s beloved blog had spiraled into nothing. That Nino’s music career seemed to be at an all-time standstill. That Marc and Nathaniel’s comic and partnership had gone down in flames. (Mostly because Nathaniel had taken too much of Lila’s advice and changed too much of the comic to be recognizable.) Or that Ivan and Mylene had broken up. Juleka had gone back to never showing up in pictures. Rose was in tears that Prince Ali no longer wished to speak to her. Kitty Section had broken up. Chloe was a bigger bully than ever, though she too was smart enough to stay clear of Marinette. The list went on and on, getting worse and worse.

           Even the teachers realized just how much of a control presence that Marinette had. And just how lost their classrooms were without her.

           But still, Marinette didn’t care.

Marinette had been screwed over. Once. Twice. A dozen times. Her best friend, her sworn bestie, hadn’t been the loyal friend she promised she was; acted nice when was so not nice. Chat Noir, Adrien, had left her to fight alone so many times that Master Fu took back his Miraculous. Screwed over by her best friend. Twice. And then by all the other kids.

Still, no one could understand how the sweetest girl could go full Ice Queen.

They had been smart enough to get Luka and Kagami to ask Marinette at the school’s end of the year party. Adrien got Kagami to ask as Marinette had taken to ignoring him for a long time by then Juleka got Luka to promise to find out. Kagami and Luka had become her closest friends. And the fact that her classmates would use them to get information on her, just reminded Marinette just how done she was.

She was so done.

So after the two had asked. Instead of answering, Marinette texted Colton, her friend, and DJ of the party. Marinette needed to make something clear.

When the song, ended Marinette got on stage.

“Hey,” She said into the mic. Her hair was only a bit longer but the blue had been dyed out of it. Her skinny jeans were black and ripped and she had on a red halter top was lacy and elegant. “Someone of you might not know me. But I’ve done enough for this school and a lot the students, to know majority of you do.” Her tone was dry and her stare blank. “Over last year, I took a step back you could say from, well, bullshit.” There were laughs. Most of the students who knew of Marinette and had been affected by her kindness had reached out almost immediately when they realized something was wrong, something had changed.

           Marinette looked at the students, “I got screwed over by too many times to count.” She sighed. “Turns out, a lot there’s a lot of assholes in my class.” She said bluntly. “So how do I deal with it all. In fact, how do you deal with all the drama and bullies and liars and two-faced bitches in your life? I got some advice for you. Pay close attention because it worked great for me.” The music started and Marinette started to sing.

“Here's my secret strategy

It always works because

The world doesn't end

It just feels like it does”

           Marinette wasn’t the best singer but she was decent. The song wasn’t about high notes or theatrics. It was sung with grace and humor. A strong daria morgendorffer vibe.

So raise your right finger      Marinette raised her right hand flicked off the entire school and looked right at her classmates. There faces turned red and their eyes were wide.

And solemnly swear

"Whatever they say about me

I don't care!"

           The first few months had been hard. And full of mean looks were way and nasty remarks. Until they realized they needed her. They needed her charm. Her can-do attitude. Her to come back as class president. Her ideas. The free handmade clothes she designed.

I won't twist in knots to join your game

           Rose, surprising, had been the first to try to tempt her back. The other having enlisted the second sweetest girl in class to talk to Marinette. Rose had told Marinette that if she just admitted she was wrong Lila and apologize, they’d take her back. Marinette had told her to fuck off.

I will say, "you make me mad."

And if you treat me bad

I'll say "you're bad"

And if I eat alone from this moment on

That's just what I'll do

'Cause I'd rather be me, I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me than be with you

           Marinette had eaten alone for weeks until she made she found real friends in other classes, both upper and lower grades. That was when Marinette found out that she was well-liked by the majority of the school. And the majority of the school didn’t buy Lila’s lies.

We're supposed to all be ladies

And be nurturing and care

Is that really fair?

Boys get to fight, we have to share

           Marinette found new friends, made new plans, her schedule filled up again, and she was happy. That was when the rumors started. Alya and Alix, leading the charge, had taken upon themselves to tell Marinette new friends what a bully she was and the rest of the school as well. They got upset when no one believed them.

           They got even more upset when they realized Marinette didn’t care. At all. However, when Alix had taken it too far, he had decided to get physical and trip Marinette in the lunchroom….

Here's the way that turns out

We always understand

How to slap someone down

With our underhand

           Marinette got up, pulled her arm back, and knocked Alix’s lights out. “Don’t try that shit again,” Marinette had warned her ex-friends. “I have no problem kicking each and everyone one of your asses.”

She got a week’s detention but she smiled all the way through.

So here's my right finger Marinette flicked off the school again; waved it around so everyone could see it.

To how girls should behave

'Cause sometimes what's meant to break you

Makes you brave

So I will not act all innocent

I won't fake apologize

           From then on, it was everyone understood that a new Marinette walked the halls. One that didn’t care about being nice. How ladies should behave. She refused to apologize after a fight. And she never backed down from an agreement.

           Turns out losing all her friends didn’t break her. It made her braver. In a way Ladybug never managed to before then.

Let's just fight and then make up

Not tell these lies

Let's call our damage even

Clean the slate till it's like new

           Marinette never gave in; even when the ice out happened. All the kids in her class ignored her, they didn’t say a single word to her. Refused to pair with her. Didn’t even acknowledge her existence.

It's a new life for me

Where I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me

Than be with you

The once bluenette just laughed at their childish antics. She didn’t bat an eye as they wanted her too. She didn’t understand why they couldn’t fight like normal people. Or the very at least call the war done, the damage even on both sides, and then move on with clean slates.

I'll say, "NO!"

NO!

I'll say, "knock it off,

with your notes and your rules and your games."

           Marinette had just gone: NO. No. She wasn’t going to play their little games. Do anything to make it even remotely look like she card. It was over. She was done. It was all just a waiting game.

           Waiting for them to grow up and realize, it was game over. There was no magical way their friendship would ever be restored. They should move, let go. Find something better. Accept the loss and learned to live with it.

           Like she’d done with Lila. Marinette hadn’t been happy with the results of their chess game but she could live with it. Move on. Got a new life.

And those sycophants who follow you, Marinette turned her attention to the pretty Italian girl. If Lila ever came after her again… Or when her kingdom of lies fell, and there was no doubt it would. Marinette would be there to watch it burn.

I'll remember all their names, She sang to Lila who nodded having understood. Even she knew her time was running out. Though Lila wouldn’t just hand over her power willingly. No, Lila knew it would have to dragged away from her bloody hands before she let it go. Lila would fight. It was just the way she was.

           The one thing Marinette liked about the girl.

           Alya was getting desperately. Eventually, she’ll realize the answer to all her problems lay in the comments on her blog. All questioning why she was promoting such an obvious liar. And when she did… There would be hell to pay.

And when they drag you down

Like they inevitably do

I will not laugh along with them and

approve their palace coup, 'cause that's not me. She promised her once the greatest enemy. (Hawkmoth’s was Ladybug’s.) That caused Lila to smile.

           Because when the faux-faced kids turned their ire onto Lila. When they dragged her through the same torment they put Marinette though. At least the wannabe Volpina wouldn’t have to worry about the once Every Day ladybug.

           In fact, if Lila played her cards right, and she nearly always did. She’d find an alley to teach her. Teach her not to care. Teach her to be stronger. Teach her out to say “Fuck you” to the world.

           Because Marinette no longer cared enough to have any reason not to. Granted she could just say, “I. Don’t. Want. To.” Like she did frequently these days.

Janis. Janis. Janis. Janis

I don't need their good opinions

I have plenty of opinions

Everybody has opinions but it doesn't make them true

           Marinette didn’t care what her old friends thought. Or that they didn’t like her. Who cared? So what if they thought she was a bully? Or a jealous liar. Or a bad friend. Or the new Ice queen.

           She shrugged. She had a lot to say about them to.  And sure she bitched with Luka, Aurore, and Kagami but it wasn’t serious. It was just to vent. Because who cared?

What's true is being me

And I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me than be with you.

So raise them high 'cause playing nice and shy is insulting my IQ

           Marinette had no problem being a bitch if they pushed. She was no longer shy and sweet and far too nice for her own good. Because she had learned her lesson.

           And, Marinette thought, she learned it was so well that life rewarded. She was making clothes for Clara and Jagged. Worked with Chloe’s mom. She had an internship with Teen Vogue, in New York, that summer. Won several design contests. Got to see one of her designs on the red carpet worn by an up and coming actress that Jagged recommended her to.

           The actress said the brand was MDC, created by a kickass teenager name Marinette. That dress got the actress on the best-dressed list, and Marinette twenty more commissions by other almost, or kind of famous celebrities.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah

I'd Rather Be Me

I'd Rather Be Me

So maybe I should thank you. Marinette adlibbed the line but sang it directly to Lila who smirked as she knew exactly what the other girl was referring to.

           While Marinette would never say it, Lila knew, she had done the girl a favor. Showed her who her real friends were. Or weren’t. And without them, without the niceness and overly caring nature she once had, Marinette had thrived; gone further than Lila ever imagined.

           Lila had only wanted them because she liked the attention. However, she knew they weren’t real friends. No matter what Alya said, they weren’t besties. Lila didn’t trust the glasses-wearing girl as far she could throw her.

Because now I know…

I'd Rather Be Me than be with you!

           Most of her classmates looked sad. A few looked angry. Lila just looked up at her used to be nemesis with admiration and a small smile.

           A brief look of wonder and hope flashed over her face and for a moment she of just saying “To hell with it.” Screaming her sins and go binge watch Grey’s anatomy. Take up dance class when summer was over and the new school year began. She always loved dancing.

           It was the only thing Lila knew was honestly good at; great at even.

           But that moment passed. Lila liked her power. Besides, there was a good chance she could make everyone think Alya was crazy or lying to convince to save her blog; that Lila wasn’t the liar.

           Lila smirked. She had all summer to slowly leave breadcrumbs that Alya was reading too much into the situation, was too desperate, didn’t know what she was talking about. By the time the summer ended, Lila could have all other students convinced the once future great journalist had just lost her edge. So much so that it was reason Ladybug dissed the Ladyblog.

           Alya wouldn’t be a challenge like Marinette had been. Not even close. Marinette had been the Sherlock to Lila’s Moriarty. (If Marinette had kept the game going, Lila would’ve too. Until it was a full-scale war. No prisoners. Just blood; both metaphorical blood and the real red stuff.)

Alya would be too easy. But it would still be fun. Even if Alya managed to pull a fast one, there was no way their little friendships would survive what they did to Marinette. Not all the blame could be put on Lila, no matter how much they tried.

And when Marinette didn’t come back after the truth was revealed and they begged and apologized for never believing her; for not trusting her. Blame would shift. Especially if Lila changed classes like she knew Marinette had to be at least considering.

I'd Rather Be Me

           Because, Marinette would never be their friend again. They were just pawns in the game of life. And Marinette realized that while pawns could become queens. They never went back to being pawns again.

I'd Rather Be Me

I'd Rather Be Me than be with you!

Marinette was doing just fine. She wasn’t their friend. She didn’t like them.

And most importantly, Marinette didn’t care.

[fandom-necromancer]

Late Night City Drive

Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077 | Ship: Delamain/fem!V&Johnny (Warning: Slight body horror in the first two paragraphs you can skip)

The sounds of bullets piercing into concrete and breaking glass followed her as she slid down the slope. The rough material reamed her skin and clothes, but the impending danger behind her was worse than the pain. And then came the fall. The endless fall with air rushing past her as the ground came closer and closer at terrifying speeds. Every second she would collide with the ground and feel the excruciating pain of broken bones and cracked skin. But the moment never came, there was just the fear of it coming for her any second now and the endless time spent on imagining how her body would warp and crack once it came. As time had stretched on enough, she finally collided, but not in a way she had thought to. She had fallen onto a heap of garbage bags filled to the brim with stinking waste. The impact of her fall made her sag into the mass, the foul smell causing her to gag and fight, but the mass was overwhelming and struggling only made it worse.

Suddenly there were hands on her. She looked behind herself and startled as she found herself face to face with her friends. Her dead friends. Jackie looked at her from glassy eyes, mouth distorted with blood still dripping from his lips. His hands were cold, so cold. They were the icy unmoving hands of the dead trying to grip her and pull her with them like she deserved. Behind him there stood T-Bug, eyes charcoal holes in her skull and the back of her head missing. She gripped V too, pulling her forwards and throwing her into a mass of bodies, one reeking worse than the next and all of them holding onto her with their cold dead hands. V struggled against it with all her strength, but stayed afloat only for a few moments. It was enough time to look back at Jackie and T-Bug, both of them smiling at her. ‘You killed us, V. Now join us.’ And then she was pulled under.

She jolted up with a gasp, the feeling of suffocating in a million dead bodies overwhelming her as she forced air in and out. With shaking hands, she hugged her torso, trying to shake off the feeling of countless fingers on her. Her whole body was aching at the tension and she was sure to throw up when her vision glossed over, streaks of turquoise code distorting her surroundings and gifting her with stinging headache on top of the pain that already shook her. V pressed her eyes close and swallowed to keep the bile down, knowing she just had to sit this one out. The malfunction of the relic would soon subside, and she would be able to live in her own body again.

‘Urgh, Fuck.’ She rubbed at her face, fingers caught in the familiar rim of her chrome. ‘V.’ ‘Shut the fuck up!’, the mercenary shouted, lifting up her hand signalling the ghost, the virus, the fucking splinter that would kill her in the long run, to better follow her order this time. Not that she could do much should Johnny choose to appear again. But at least she still had control over her body and could force him to disappear. ‘Just shut up, you already did enough’, she added silent this time, stood up and grabbed her gun and some clothes to throw over. She didn’t bother washing or checking the time, she knew it was the middle of the night anyways and that there was no way she would be able to fall asleep any time soon. She knew exactly what she needed, and she needed it now.

The elevator ride down to street level couldn’t be fast enough for her, already calling her car and slipping past the masses of people still on the street despite the hour to hop in. She relaxed only as she slammed the door shut and sunk into the comfortable driver’s seat. ‘Where can I bring you today?’ V just sunk deeper, staring out of  the window up into the night sky barred by skyscrapers, roads and glaring neon lights. She closed her eyes almost like in pain and appreciated once again the AI had the patience of… well, of an immortal computer program. ‘Just get me…’ She sighed deeply. ‘Just get me anywhere, Del. Outside the city. Badlands.’ ‘Of course.’

She felt the hum of the engine get louder and the seat press into her back as the car drove off. She watched the city pass her by while Delamain changed the radio to more silent, softer tunes than she normally listened to. In nights like these it was easy to forget how brutal Night City could be. If you drove through her streets, no more than an anonymous passenger of uncountable others, it seemed near impossible that underneath that beauty, underneath that architectural artwork and the bright glamourous lights hid an ugly monster half-dead but still hanging on to every piece that kept it alive and clawing at everything that tried to take it out of its misery. Was she any different to this shithole she lived in? She had been dead already and now she was living on borrowed time. She was no better than the tumour infesting this city. ‘Your little mercenary friends aren’t the problem here.’ V furrowed her brows in anger. ‘Did I fucking ask you for your opinion?’ ‘Hey, no need to get bitchy. Just saying the corporations are killing this city, the criminal basis is just a by-product of an uncaring world.’ ‘Shut the fuck up!’, V shouted furiously. ‘I just want my peace for once! Isn’t it enough you will kill me in the end? Just show a bit of patience and wait until I’m dead!’

‘I didn’t say anything.’ V sighed and concentrated on the world passing by. They were on their way out already, the highway leading to the border. ‘I know, Del’, she sighed quietly. ‘Then who were you talking to?’ ‘No one. Sorry.’ For a moment it was silent except for the rumble of the wheels and the hum of the engine as they passed the stone front that looked almost like a barrier separating Night City from nomad territory. ‘May I ask what brings you out into the Badlands in the middle of the night?’ V rubbed her forehead and looked outside the side window. ‘I had a nightmare’, she whispered then. She noticed the digital particles from Johnny’s presence and already braced for another unnecessary, cocky comment. But instead he just sat there next to her.

‘Apparently dying isn’t something the brain can easily process’, she added, maybe out of spite to jab at the construct that was killing her. ‘I’m afraid I can’t deliver any personal experience to that’, Delamain commented. ‘But if desired I can get in contact with several therapeutic-‘ ‘No’, V interrupted. ‘No, that won’t be necessary. I don’t have time for that. Just… Just let me drive for a while.’ ‘As you wish. I will disable automatic driving.’

V sat up and took over wheel and pedals. She sighed, relaxing her shoulders and accelerating just a bit more. For a quiet while it was just her and the road. Then Delamain spoke up once again: ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude, but how is this helping you?’ ‘It’s…’ V risked a look over to Johnny’s projection, who shrugged and looked out of the window. ‘Some old habits die hard’, she explained finally. ‘I’m a nomad after all. Whenever the family argued or I simply had enough, I would took my car for a ride. Some days there is no better friend to have than your car and the road beneath you. Makes you feel free. Makes you feel like you’re just one of many, coming from somewhere and driving somewhere else. No one cares where that might be, you are just out there on the road, your car a little part of home.’

‘That sounds fucking lonely if you ask me.’ ‘That sounds… interesting’, Delamain said and seemed to mean it. ‘I don’t know if I understand but I will keep it in mind.’ ‘Fucking people pleaser.’ V sighed and switched stations to Morro Rock. The shock of the nightmare had subsided and now she needed distraction, not calmness. ‘It’s better than drowning your problems in alcohol.’ ‘Always worked for me’, Johnny shrugged, but smiled faintly as the radio began playing the old Samurai songs. ‘Shut up’, V replied. ‘Maybe we can do that later.’

She turned from a dusty side road to a main highway that would eventually lead her back to Pacifica and decided to test out just what Delamain hid under that hood. Seeing the needle of the speedo climb higher and higher and feeling the satisfying pressure in her back, she turned up the volume and watched the completely empty street speed towards her. The streetlights flickered past one after the next while the engine roared and the car climbed up the small slope of a hill.

She enjoyed the ride as long as it lasted and slowed down once they reached streets with more traffic. Soon they would reach Pacifica and V felt exhaustion crawling up at her once again. ‘Should I take over again?’, Delamain asked and V nodded, letting go of the wheel. ‘Are you feeling better?’ ‘Yes, I do. Thank you, Del.’ ‘I didn’t do much, but I’ll take the praise, nonetheless. Should I drive you back to your apartment?’ ‘Yeah. Guess I’ll try to get some more sleep.’ She leaned back in her seat and yawned heartily. ‘Hopefully without nightmares, this time.’

‘You are not at fault for their death’, Johnny interrupted the peace and V felt far too tired to start another fight. ‘Yeah, maybe not’, she sighed. ‘But it doesn’t change the fact that they are dead and I’m alone.’ She had a hard time keeping her eyes open with the monotone sound of the engine and the gentle sway from the suspension. ‘Doesn’t matter anyway’, she mumbled, already half asleep. ‘Gonna be dead in a few months no matter what.’ She turned a bit to the side to lay more comfortably against the curve of the chair, drifting off to sleep already. It would keep her wondering later if she had just imagined the words Johnny spoke in a surprisingly concerned tone for the asshole.

‘Not if I can help it.’

[ouyangzizhensdad]

i meant white/western audiences are slow to understanding the subtext rather than asian fandoms, when i was a kid i remember most asian countries didnt even have "kiss scenes" in movies or dramas, for us the "subtext" was normal for straight couples too (I've seen a few white folks think cql is a story abt 2 straight friends). the issues with the poor production and it has shit production coz of the budget but the drama wasnt supposed to be a big hit. also like how u just made it the "idol drama"  as if most kdramas and cdramas arent full of idols. I mostly agree with ur cql fandom hate too but to me it seems like u sometimes just want to prove that cql is worse than it is just coz the fans it brought in. I dont blame u either, I've seen some shit metas and the cql fans who hate the novel and call the writer homophobic are also funny. What makes me irritated is that the amount of hate cql gets on here is equal to the amount of hate novel gets, when the drama made alot of things possible for asian LGBTQ audiences. This is the first drama that my gay asian friend (who isnt out) watched with his parents and got them to fall for all the ppl and support the couple. Novels have our imagination in them but dramas need to make a lot of ppl happy and also keep censorship at bay. for me personally cql seems like it made it possible for alot of closeted kids be comfortable talking abt a gay couple with their parents, as novels are limited to a fandom. (Like I've not read a single harry potter book but I've watched 4 of the movies 😚)

I'm not trying to attack u but I'm trying to tell u that just coz the drama brought in a shit ton of weirdos in the fandom it still helped alot more ppl than u can imagine...

Hi anon, 

One thing where we seem to be of a different opinion is that criticising cql as a work of fiction, or highlighting the political economic context surrounding it, in no way negates what it can mean for people. I personally consider that these are completely different matters. These things often have nothing to do with the inherent quality of a thing, or even how good “queer rep” it is--they are relative to people’s specific and personal experiences, or a particular moment in the media landscape. All the things she said holds special meaning to me because it was the first time I got to see two women kiss on tv and it felt revelatory. I vividly remember sitting cross-legged right in front of the tv and refusing to come eat until the end of the music videos--at a time when I could not articulate why I was so fascinated by it. I know that this song is still meaningful for a lot of queer people my age, even if many people hate it for being a straight gaze fantasy. Regardless of what it personally means to me, I’m not going to argue that the music video is a masterpiece, or be blind to the reason why the kiss was included in that music video. CQL is very meaningful to your gay closeted friend, and allowed him to discuss wangxian as a gay couple with his parents, and that’s absolutely great. But I personally think it’s a little bit far-fetched to suppose that the same couldn’t have been said of any other live adaptations of a danmei novel who didn’t shoehorn in a het romance: if the timing had been different, perhaps the first drama with romantic subtext between two male characters he would have seen with his parents would have been Guardians, or the incoming adaptation of TGCF. Hell, H2O was so popular that they might have just watched that one together as well, even if the subtext “romance” is between two side characters. 

Let me be clear as well that I am not trying to argue that MDZS is this groundbreaking piece of fiction wrt “gay rights” or queer representation in China that changes minds and sways public opinion. It’s one of many danmei novels--it just is one that has a lot of literary merit. I simply think it’s disingenuous when people in the western fandom claim that a subtext romance is better “representation” than a canon gay couple who get their happily ever after. CQL is more impactful because it is mainstream, but it does not mean the representation it offers is inherently better. It is also ridiculous sometimes because the hurdles faced by a danmei authors vs the government-backed media giants who benefit financially from putting out censored version of their stories is just..... not something that should be ignored in my opinion.

Asian audiences being more used to romance depicted through subtext does not, at least in my opinion, negate the power of heteronormativity or compulsory heteronormativity to influence readings of that subtext by a portion of the audience. Chinese people are absolutely creative and innovative in the ways in which they manage to circumvent censorship, but a webseries financed by a media giant is not going to be a transgressive attempt to pull the wool over the censors’ eyes--at the end of the day it needs to be a safe investment. 

You seem to suggest that I am hard on CQL for being an idol drama but do not bring the same criticisms to other idol dramas. I find this weird because it’s not like I’ve ever praised an idol drama, and I know I haven’t because I simply don’t think they are competent works of fiction (although sometimes the camera work and editing is at least competent, compared to cql where the production quality is kind of poor). The closest I’ve come to doing that is praising My Mister, which is not in any way an idol drama, but which I suppose features an idol (IU) in the cast. When I said the first jdrama I watched was Hana Yori Dango, that was not an endorsement of how good it was--because honestly it’s one hot mess barely held together by the chemistry between the two leads--it was just a statement of fact. 

I am very critical and judgemental, I’ll give you that, but I don’t think that equates to “hate”. Yes, most of my discussions of CQL sprout from existing discussions within the fandom. But most of my posts indirectly reference or respond to something I saw. What’s the difference between me addressing a common novel fanon and me addressing a common opinion on cql’s virtues? 

TLDR; a work of fiction being significant to people is something to recognise but it should not preclude being able to discuss that work critically, especially wrt how it executes its story since the inherent quality of the work as art has no direct correlation with its impact, be it on individuals or on a specific media landscape. Moreover, the impact of a work on queer people or on the social perception of queer people is not inherently proportional to how “good queer rep” it is: it has usually more to do with the context (ie people don’t remember Brokeback Mountain because it was the best movie with a gay love story ever made until then--there was more at play). 

[coolkat122]

What in the hell! How'd This Happen!?: (?) Alibaba x (?)Reader

Chapter 1: Like the Movies

Fandom Magi

Characters: Sinbad, Jafar, Judar, Alibaba,+

World:  Modern AU

________

'Ugh' I groaned as I struggled to open my eyes, my lids were weighing them down heavily making it quite a fight, 'just what happened?' I remember feeling depressed about losing my job, and then I went out to drown my sorrows like there was no tomorrow, so...

I guess that I just dranked too much? My eyelids began feeling lighter as I continued to open them and while I finally succeed, it didn't quite mean that I could fully see just yet.

Things were still blurry and hard to makeout, but from what I could gather, I appear to be outside...'shit, did I crash here?' Is that better than waking up and a stranger's bed or worse?    

I don't know, honestly, I went to rub my eyes to assist in helping them clear up, but uh... for some reason that was kind of hard to do, thankfully though still do able.

My hand came up to my eyes, though it felt…”off”, I couldn't get it to move properly...'just what was going on?' I thought just as things became clearer and I could finally see things as...

'Wait...hold up, where did the color go and JUST WHY DO I HAVE A PAW!!!'  I began freaking out and moving about crazily, and bit by bit as I took in the rest of what I assumed to be me, I saw a furry body and tail.

I screamed bloody murder as I wept hysterical and my body fumble about, not quite used to moving around in this thing, "Help! Somebody please help!" My voice desperately cried out for human decency to come and save the day.

"Hey, are you alright!?" A male voice laced with concern responded to my plea for help, as they approached from my rear, happy to hear that someone showed, I excitedly turned around and was met with the sight of...

Another dog...? Where did the man go? In his place stood a dog with bright messy yellow fur, honey brown eyes that shone with a gentle kindness and concern me as they looked over me.

"Uh hello, Where are you?" I tried looking for them, as the dog raised a brow and expressed confusion.

"I'm right here...are you okay?" They took a few steps forward, pausing when I guess they noticed my shock as instinctively took a few messy steps back.

"H-how, how can you talk? Ooof" I slipped falling onto my side as I stared wide eyed at ,  this talking dog.

The dog tilted his head in confusion as he replied, “I guess same as you?” The yellow dog came slightly closer in a soft manner.

“Hey are you okay…you cried for help and are…acting strange, so what’s the problem?” Upon his asking and no real thought going on upstairs other than wanting to whine about my situation.

I laid bare my whole predicament (well as far as I knew), “what’s my “problem”, you wanna know what caused me to freak?”

“Well besides meeting a TALKING DOG! I FIND MYSELF AS ONE AS WELL!, WHAT THE HELL?” Why is this happening? How did it happen?

I was going back into full blown freak out as the dog backed off a bit probably for safety, but he still remained in this alley with concern in those honey brown orbs.

“What are you talking about? What does any of that mean, did you hit your head?” The dog frowns as he gestured to my head.

I collapsed to the ground whining, “I wiiiiiish, this is just about the worst thing that could have happened!” What did I do to deserve being turned into a dog?

This some Franz Kafka bs right here, “wait… then does that mean that I will meet the same fate?” With that thought, I whined even more.

“Hey, we really don’t know what’s going on, but if you keep that up, those scary humans might show up” Yellow said, his voice laced with fear and concern.

“Scary humans?” It took some thinking, but I started piecing together possibilities as to what he was referring to and it shocked me silent as I thought about what that meant for me now that I’m like this….

“No, no, I can’t let that happen, I‘ ve got to find my brothers!” I’m convinced that some how those weirdo (god bless their souls) will put together all of our movies experience and figure out that this…thing was me…maybe.

I mean they sure as hell brag about it a lot, so let’s put it to the test!

“Your brothers?” Yellow hummed, “okay, where are they? I’ll escort you to them” normally I’m not so easily moved, but this kindness that was being showered upon me in such a dark stage in my life was literally a shining light.

Brightening up this vile alleyway, “thank you, going it alone as is would be frightening” yellow smiled sweetly and brightly like a saint, literally what Jesus would look like if he were a dog (I’m willing to place bets on this! 😤)

“Hey, it’s no problem, I can’t leave you like this, so c’mon lead the way” yellow gesture with his nogging.

Happily I was about to take charge and step out from the alley, only to feel yellow yank me back in (kinda painfully too with those teeth).

“What the hell dude!?” I barked, irritated and upset with his stunt.

“Not that way, you’ll run the risk of running into the scary humans, let’s remain out of sight as much as possible, okay?” His brown orbs gaze upon me awaiting my response, semi- patiently.

I glanced back the way I was planning on heading with reluctance, as I turned back to face yellow…

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense…let’s go this way then” I picked out a “better “ yellow approved path as he nodded and trailed closely by my side.

“Oh what’s your name by the way? Or do you not go by one? I don’t recall seeing you around” I cut my (e/c) towards yellow, a strange revaluation dawning upon me as I take in that strays have names apparently (and here I thought that it was a Disney thing)…

“(Full), yours?” yellow smiled and replied.

“My name’s Alibaba”

________

A/N: so... I was watching Lady and the Tramp when I got the ides for this and uh, I'm not sure how I feel about childhood memories that were resurfacing so plz try not to think about how a Disney movie lead to tbis xD

[avanalae]

Sunlight Through the Leaves

Hello, all! I am still alive, tho not without issue. But I have made it to another birthday. Go me! I feel so old these delays, as 30 creeps ever closer. :((

Anyway. This is a fic for Yufei for her birthday. So yes, this is VERY belated. But hey, we're celebrating our birthdays together this way! 😊 This is totally as planned. 😬

So, HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY YUFEI! 💕

___

Fandom: Hayden’s Notes

Characters: Hayden Carter, Jason Wolfe, Original Creature(s)

Pairings: Very Pre-Wolfden (Hayden/Wolfe)

Warnings: Wolfe is an asshole, Unconscious & Reluctant Pining

Rating: G

Summary: Hayden Carter is a brat and one day will get some respect punched into him. One day. Today is not that day, trapped in this forest as they are. But at least the trees aren’t about to jump out and eat them. Wolfe would rather the walking tree branches would go away, but at least Carter is going to get them out of this mess.

He hopes.

___

Wolfe is annoyed. Very annoyed.

He’s frustrated about this whole situation and is annoyed at himself for being frustrated.

It's an endless cycle and it’s very frustrating.

His jaw clenches again and he wishes he could get out a cigarette. However, he’s aware that it would be asking for trouble. There is a high chance of danger and offense here, and he can’t chance it.

Not in these woods.

One of the small creatures tentatively approaches him, looking up from its diminutive height of just under a meter. Its bipedal body is made entirely of tree roots, making it easily blend in with the forest. Though the sharp branches that curl from the head, covered in foliage make it a little less creepy. Especially when the leaves partially obscure the void-like cracks in between the roots of its “face" that Carter claims to be their eyes.

Speaking of Carter, Wolfe looks away from the creature to the man. He’s sitting on a fallen tree, letting several of the creatures crawl all over him. One of them is on his knee and there’s one on his shoulder, who appears to be braiding his hair.

Carter doesn’t have his glasses on at the moment, and he has to avert his eyes lest he get caught staring again. Making up excuses for that the fist time had been embarrassing, and any time he can avoid the boy’s mocking is a job well done. It also helps him avoid any introspective questions on his own part.

Wolfe feels a slight tug at his pants and he looks down at the thing. It’s still looking up at him, the closest any of them had been to him so far. Sighing internally, he allows it to tug him along.

The mission they had been sent on did not go at all the way they had expected, but he supposes it could be worse. Though he’s going to have problems later coming to terms with the things he’s seeing now at a later date, when he’s not in the middle of all of it. Grumbling quietly, the thing tugs him to sit next to Carter on the log.

Carter frowns but restrains himself. This is impressive until he turns to the one who had pulled him over and says, “No, we don’t need to be closer. I’d rather he was farther away, actually.”

Through the familiar annoyance, he hears the creature make odd creaking and rustling noises. They’d been doing this off and on, with Carter always responding afterwards, so presumably this was their way of speaking. It was odd, but he’ll probably try to blot this experience from his mind later, so he will deal with it for now.

“No,” Carter says sharply, gaining Wolfe's attention. He looks oddly embarrassed. “No, he is not. I don’t know why you get that impression, but its false.” The creature on his shoulder tugs at his hair, making the younger man wince. “Seriously!”

Wolfe can’t take it much more and caves, “What are they saying?”

Carter huffs and looks away, crossing his arms in an oddly defensive gesture.

It’s kind of cute.

…

Wait, no. Carter is not cute. Wolfe wants to frown at the thought, and ends up having to play it off when he realizes that he is actually frowning. “What, are they criticizing you? You led us into this, after all.”

Carter practically snaps his neck turning to look at him so quickly, eyes blazing. “I’ll have you know that I wouldn’t have had to ‘lead’ us anywhere if the RSS could get their information right!”

“How were we to know that wearing certain colors can provoke things like that?” Wolfe snaps back.

The younger man throws his hands up in exasperation. “Gee! I don’t know! Maybe by asking literally anyone who knows anything about arachne?! And she wasn’t provoked, you idiot!”

“It came right for me!”

“She thought you were propositioning her!”

“WHAT?!” Wolfe can’t help the grimace and shudder.

“She wanted to scent you, not eat you!” Carter growls, mumbling a moment later, “At least not yet.”

“That is not reassuring, Carter!”

“We you didn’t have to draw your gun like that! It’s your fault we had to run!”

“Well, sorry for trying to defend myself! I can’t get back up like you can from that stuff!”

At this point, they’re both standing and several steps apart, facing each other. So, when Carter chucks his pen at him, it hits Wolfe square in the forehead and bounces off with a satisfying “thwack" before disappearing into the underbrush.

Throwing a hand to his forehead, Wolfe growls, “You-!” But he falters just a bit at the look on Carter’s face. Just enough to stay his tongue and instead of lashing out anymore, he turns and sits down harshly on the far end of the log. He cups his head with his arms braced on his knees and tries to take deep breaths.

The movement of the log is barely there, but he can tell that Carter has sat down on the other end, much farther away this time. There is a long, drawn out silence while the two calm and try to work out their thoughts. Wolfe hadn’t noticed it until then, but the area had gone quiet. Likely due to how loud their argument had gotten.

There’s a soft rustle, and some life starts to slowly pick back up, ending the eerie stillness. Wolfe rubs his face, exhausted. He’s not going to apologize. Neither of them is, but that’s no surprise. He’s not entirely sure he’s sorry, anyway. Or what he would be sorry for, exactly. In his peripheral, Wolfe sees Hayden hunched with his forearms braced on his thighs.

They are alone in their frustrated silence for a minute or more before he notices one of the tree-things pop out nearby. It approaches hesitantly, and Wolfe doesn’t know or care much about how it seems to be looking between the two of them. It ends up approaching Hayden… Carter. He turns his head just enough to see the thing reach up to him, holding something. A brief pause lets Wolfe see that it’s Carter’s pen before he’s startled by the man exhale loudly, ending in a raspy chuckle.

It’s…

Carter gently takes the pen and Wolfe looks away, back into the trees. He hears a rustle followed by a hum from Carter and wonders if he’ll start talking again.

The rustling of the tree-things picks up as several of them come back out from their hidey-holes. They all mostly approach Carter, but two stay further away but sit in a way to indicate that they are watching him closely now. The scowl twitches on his lips but he fights it.

The problem with Carter is that he’s far too good at riling people up. It’s troublesome and damn annoying. The kid is sharp as a whip and his tongue more so. He hates the way Carter can strip people down so easily – strip him down. He hates it.

Jason Wolfe does not like feeling defenseless.

And yet…

He grumbles, glancing away from the trees back over to Hay- Carter. The kid is sitting up now, no longer curled in. There is one of the tree-things in front of him that he seems to be talking to and another on his shoulders. There’s one more behind him, handing something up to the thing on his shoulders…

Flowers. They are putting flowers in his hair.

Wolfe watches with some kind of fascination, from interest or horror he isn’t sure. The one on the ground is picking the flowers from their surroundings and handing them up to the creature on Carter’s shoulders, who braids them in. Had he been paying more attention, he might have thought that this was the same tree- thing that had been braiding his hair earlier.

Carter suddenly looks over to him and Wolfe feels something catch in his throat. He tries to swallow it back while the young man blinks at him before scowling in a way that looks more like a pout. The flowers are forming a crown along his head, with some small ones slipping a bit from their position to creep down his bangs, framing his face.

He looks so young, like this.

The thought hits Wolfe uncomfortably. Having known the man for just a while now he’s been getting over some of his anger, but in moments like this…

The black sclera enhance the vibrant green irises and he is reminded by the fact that something must have happened to this kid to get him here. Sometimes, in moments like this, he wants to know. Maybe even more than just for leverage.

Wolfe’s head snaps back once again and the pen flies off into the forest once more. Carter’s growl grabs his attention, and he realizes he let himself get distracted.

“Now that I have your attention, Wolfe, why don’t you tell me when you’re ready to leave?” One of the tree-things rushes through the brush after the pen. The one of his shoulders is creaking unhappily, tugging at hair to perhaps try to wrangle it back into place.

“Leave?”

Carter snorts, “Yeah, the saplings are willing to lead us out of the forest and direct us to the closest residence. Then you can contact RSS and tell them you messed up the job and they need to get us out of here.”

“I-?!” Wolfe growls, tensing up in preparation to start another fight. His rebuttal is interrupted, however, by handful of flowers. They don’t make it very far, but they didn’t really need to, as the tree-thing that had been gathering flowers is now on the log next to him, having thrown them at him. Its leaves are shaking just a bit, and it waves its appendages at him in some sort of scolding gesture.

Completely stunned, Wolfe doesn’t look away from the only slightly menacing tree branch in front of him until he hears an odd noise. Looking up, he sees Carter.

Laughing.

With his shoulders up and arms around his stomach, turned just a bit more towards him, Carter is laughing. But it’s a tone completely unfamiliar to Wolfe and it stuns him just as much, if not more, than the creature had. Carter’s mouth is opened to breathe, lips turned up in a grin. The motions agitate his hair and Wolfe doesn’t – can’t – blink as a few of the flowers fall, tumbling across flushed cheeks.

“You-!” Carter giggles. “You look like a troublemaker being scolded by his mother! I never took you for anything less than rule-abiding, Wolfe!”

The stick creature had stopped waving at him and instead starts climbing up onto him. Wolfe jerks, but doesn’t react violently as Carter’s smile fades just a bit into concentration, watching him. He knows if he throws the thing off of him the man will make him regret it. So, while he grunts and twitches, he lets the damn thing climb up to his shoulders, where it starts pulling on his hair.

His eyes widen and Carter bursts into laughter once more.

“M-My hair! What are you doing?!” Wolfe stops his hands from going up past his shoulders but it’s a near thing.

“He just wants to braid your hair, too, Wolfe!” Carter cackles.

Wolfe sputters, “What?!”

“He thinks that braiding and adorning your hair with moonflowers will make you calmer.” Carter grins at him sharply, “These flowers are precious to them, you know.”

No, he did not know, you brat. Now he can’t shred them to pieces, either!

Carter’s laugh turns more into a condescending chuckle, likely guessing what he’d been thinking. Wolfe is distracted by a sharp tug of his hair and he has to hold back again when his first instinct is to lash out. His restraint is rewarded by the tugging gentling just a bit.

“Carter, how do I stop it?” he grits through his teeth.

‘Hm,” the man hums. I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?” Wolfe wants to punch that smug look off the brat’s face so badly, but a tug on his hair and a soft scent distract him once more. The brush of petals along his temple makes him twitch.

“Mm, yeah,” Carter comments, after a pause for his own hairdresser to readjust itself, “I think we’ll have to put a bit of a hold on leaving for now. That’s a shame.”

Wolfe grunts, angry and annoyed, but makes himself look away from the pain in his neck just a bit more than an arm’s reach away. Hopefully, Carter will be lenient enough to not mock him afterwards. But if he does, Wolfe can bite back easily enough with how lovely he looked with all those flowers in his hair.

Stupid.

He meant how stupid he looked.

…

Fuck.

[shipmistress9]

Sex Toy Advent Calendar: Day 4: Scarlet Silk Scarf

Fandom: HTTYD

Rating: E

Pairing: Hiccup/Astrid

Words: 2515

Summary: Day 4 of the Sex Toy Advent Calendar. Hiccup and Astrid aren't sure of what to make of today's gift. But a little creativity is more than enough to make up for that. 

AN: These shorts get a lot longer than intended. Which means they take longer to write, too. Ah, well... That way, I'll have fun with them well into the next year.

Read on AO3

. o O o .

Frowning in slight confusion, Hiccup held the box of the day in his hands as Astrid inspected the content. In opposition to the previous boxes, this one was golden, with the word ‘four’ written in black letters along one side. It was bigger than the previous ones, but not by much. The content, though…

“Okay, and what exactly is that supposed to be?”

Astrid shrugged, holding a strip of scarlet red cloth in both her hands. “I’m not entirely sure, to be honest,” she murmured. “Some sort of scarf, I think? We could use it as a blindfold.”

She wrapped the scarf loosely around her eyes, and Hiccup had to admit that it was an intriguing sight. The fabric shimmered red, golden, or black, depending on how the light fell on it. And after the experiment with the bondage tape, he'd gained a bit of a taste for blindfolding her.

Out loud, he said, “That's a possibility. But how about we discuss this tonight? We should get going now. Do you want me to drop you off at work?”

On Fridays, their work schedules usually matched. So unless she didn't have additional appointments in the afternoon, driving together made more sense.

“Yeah, that would be great.” She stretched to place a quick peck on his lips. “And hopefully, we can come up with a few ideas for what to do with this thing until tonight.”

There was a hungry glint in her eyes, and Hiccup knew that wherever this night would lead them, it would be intense.

. o O o .

When Hiccup picked her up from work again, she greeted him with another kind of hunger, though.

“I’ve decided we're getting pizza for tonight.”

Raising an eyebrow at her, he started his car and drove off the carpark. “Really? I didn’t expect you to want to get a too full stomach these days.” Honestly, sex while being stuffed was no fun.

Astrid groaned, then pondered for a moment. “Oh, the conflict… But I need pizza today. We could… only eat one slice and safe the rest for later. Pizza still tastes great, even when it cooled down a bit.”

Chuckling, Hiccup shook his head. “So, your day at the office was that bad?”

“Worse!” she grumbled. “I swear, if that woman ruins only one more conversation by switching the topic to her exceptional cooking skills, I'm going to split her head with an axe.”

His lips twitched, but Hiccup was wise enough not to comment on this directly. “Pizza it is then,” he agreed.

. o O o .

An hour later, Astrid's mood had considerably improved. Hiccup had made a detour to drive by her favourite pizzeria instead of just getting the usual from the one near their home, and after two slices of cheesy perfection with ham and tuna, she'd forgotten all about her annoying co-worker.

Eyeing the rest of her Pizza, she sighed. “I’m so torn. This pizza is so good, but if I eat more now, I won't do anything else anymore tonight.”

Chuckling, Hiccup pushed his pizza box away from him. He’d only eaten one slice so far, but then he didn’t need to drown work-related frustration, either. “Why are you holding back? Do you have any other plans for tonight?” he asked artlessly.

Astrid threw him a deadpan look, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, okay, I haven’t forgotten about today's box. But seriously, what are we supposed to do with that thing?”

“Oh, I’ve thought of a few things.” She jumped up to get the scarf from their bedroom while Hiccup went to put away the pizza for later.

“First, I could use it to make sure you don’t run away from me,” Astrid said as she retired to the living room and found it empty, a mixture of humour and exasperation in her voice.

She followed him into the kitchen, and when he turned to put away their glasses, he found himself trapped with the scarf around the back of his neck as she pulled him into a deep kiss. Humming against her lips, Hiccup gave in to his demanding girlfriend. Not that that was much of a chore. He’d been looking forward to this all day as well, but it was just so much fun to tease her.

Astrid didn't loosen her hold on him until he gave in completely, his hands wrapped around her waist and their tongues entangled in an intricate dance. However, when she pulled away and let the scarf glide along his neck, the satin did interesting things to him. Like a lightning sparking through his entire body and making blood pool down below. He didn’t get the chance to focus on that sensation, though, Astrid drawing his attention again right away.

“Or you could use it to bind my hands again,” she suggested, and wrapped the scarf around both her wrists in one fluid motion. “I had the impression you enjoyed that a lot.”

An appreciative groan rumbled from somewhere deep within his chest as his eyes caught on her bound wrists. “It’s not as if you didn’t enjoy it too,” he murmured in a deep voice, rougher than usual. She was right though, he'd enjoyed tying her up more than he’d ever expected and hoped that he could do something like that again, soon.

“Mmm, true,” she said dreamily. Then her eyes lit up with an idea. She freed her left hand, then held the other one out to him, with a inviting gleam in her eyes and the scarf still wrapped around it.

“You want me to…?”

She nodded, a smirk tugging at her pretty pink lips.

Swallowing, Hiccup reached for the scarf and tied it around her wrist. He made sure that it wasn’t too tight, even as the satin made his fingers tingle, distrsacting him. What was it with this fabric?

Once he was done, Astrid moved quicker than he could react. She looped the other end of the scarf around his left wrist and fastened it with a knot. Then she paused, her eyes searching his. “Is this okay?”

Hiccup gazed at their hands, at the scarf hanging loosely between them. There was enough slack for them to move, a little less than half a metre, but not enough to put any considerable distance between them. “Aye, I think it is,” he murmured, his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. “And what now?”

“Now, we can play around a little.”

She put her arm behind her back and pulled him along until he held her in a loose embrace, then leaned in until they aligned their bodies from head to toe.

“We can do something like this,” she breathed, her lips ghosting over his. “Or something like this.”

Hiccup wasn’t sure how she’d done it, but only a heartbeat later, he found himself turned around, with his bound hand on his back and his front pressed against a wall. It made his heart beat faster, pumping blood down into his groin, and he suddenly felt very hot. She was so strong, and he loved it.

He yelped when her hand found its way to his ass, followed by a low groan as she squeezed suggestively. “Mmm, honestly, your ass is to die for,” she purred, stretching to reach his neck with her mouth.

Hiccup’s mind was spinning, barely able to catch up. How easily Astrid had manhandled him, her teeth against his skin, her hand on his ass, and the sensation of that satin… It was an intoxicating mix, enough for him to not even notice how Astrid opened his belt and zipper, moaning wantonly when she found him half hard already.

Before she could do more, however, he finally regained some control. Distracted as she apparently was, he had no problem with turning the situation around on her, and only moments later, she found herself with her back against his chest, his arm and the scarf wrapped around her to hold her in place.

“Two can play this game, Milady,” he whispered against her neck, voice husky with arousal. His hand wandered to the buttons of her blouse, popping them open one by one and revealing a black bra with cute green details beneath. One of his favourites.

Astrid chuckled, a little breathlessly, and used her position to grind her cute little ass against his growing erection. “And here I thought you’d already given up.”

The game went on like this for a good while longer. One would use the scarf and how it connected them to pull the other into a new position, using the moment to steal a kiss or to grope and to keep undressing them. It was slow progress, like a dance, except that no dance had ever left him this needy and wanting. Or had made him adore his partner with the same intensity he felt for Astrid right now. She truly was perfect in every aspect, beautiful, strong, sexy, witty, funny, and sometimes a little crazy.

“I love you,” he rasped into her hair as he held her much like she’d held him before, he front against the kitchen wall. Their playful dance… striptease… whatever had led them nearly through the entire flat, neither of them caring so long as it got them a minor advantage.

Astrid gasped, his words accompanied by a teasing pinch on one of her hardened nipple. “L-love you too. But, fuck, Hiccup, I need you now.” She turned around in his grip, so easily as if his efforts meant nothing, and slung one of her long legs around his hips.

Caught off guard by this development, Hiccup didn’t even think twice. He reached for her other leg to hold her up, his cock gliding into her as if it belonged there, and guided by her urgent movements, he thrust in deep right from the start.

“Fuck, yes! Just like that!”

Astrid’s breathy moan did nothing to help him regain coherence. His bound hand found hers and pressed it against the wall behind her, their fingers entwined. It was more difficult to hold her with only one arm like this, his amputated leg nearly buckling beneath him, but with her legs helping by holding on to him it was manageable. And he felt as if he needed the intimacy of their hands entwined, didn’t want to let go of her.

“Come on, baby,” she moaned, the fingers of her free hand digging into his shoulder. “Fuck me hard!”

After their endless foreplay, Hiccup didn’t need to be told twice and complied with eager abandon. His hips surged forward, her heat welcoming him, so sweet that he forgot everything else. Nothing mattered anymore, nothing but Astrid.

And she seemed to enjoy it. She moved with him, gasping and with her hips meeting his at every thrust. She was mesmerising to watch, sweat beading on her skin and a beautiful flush wandering up her chest. Every second, every thrust, every moan or outcry brought them higher, closer to the edge.

It wouldn’t need much more now. Her legs were clinging to him, pulling him in deeper. The fingers of her right hand clutched at his with all the urgency of her impending climax, while the nails of her other hand dug deeply into his shoulder.

Hiccup groaned, the pain spurring him on even more. He moved faster, thrust harder, revelling in her desperate keening, the way she grew tighter with every passing second. Close, so close.

When she came, it was with a lewd moan, her back arched, pressing her breasts up against his chest. She looked amazing, so beautiful, her body all but glowing and her eyes screwed shut. And the way she clenched around him…

“F-fuck, so good!”

Unable to hold out any longer, Hiccup gave in and followed her into bliss. With a few last jerky thrusts, he carried them both through to the end, his curse going over into a drawn-out groan.

Once it was over, he carefully guided her legs back down to the ground. He leaned his forehead against hers, both trying to catch their breath as reward hormones and bliss surged through them.

“That was… yep… totally worth forgoing more pizza.”

Unable to help himself, Hiccup burst out laughing. He leaned more heaving against her and buried his face in her hair, his hand coming up to caress along her neck. “Your absolutely amazing, do you know that?”

Humming, Astrid leaned into his touches. “Yeah, I know.” Then her hand mimicked his gesture and cupped his cheek, guiding him up again until she could look at him. Her eyes had grown soft, so full of love and warmth that they nearly made him choke. “And so are you. I still can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

She stretched to press her lips to his, her tongue peeking out and pushing into his mouth. Hiccup kissed her back, slow but intense, and they only parted when the need to breathe became too urgent to ignore.

Astrid hummed again, and when he looked into her eyes, so deep and beautiful that he could easily drown in them, there was a humorous glint in them now. “But now that we burned enough calories, I need more pizza.”

Chucking, Hiccup let her lead them back to their dinner table where they both fumbled with the scarf to get it off their wrists. Astrid's appetite was not something to mess with, no matter whether it was about food or sex.

She all but inhaled three more slices of her pizza, with him only managing one and a half, before she talked again. “So, what was that about you and this scarf?”

Hiccup frowned, but couldn't reply with his mouth full of cheese and vegetables. He chewed, swallowed, and asked, “What do you mean?”

With a slight twitch of her lips, Astrid reached for the scarf lying next to them on the table and let the rougher satin side glide up the inside of his arm.

Unable to help it, Hiccup’s eyes fell close and a low moan dropped off his lips as the fabric made his skin tingle. A sensation like lightning zipped through his body, not strong enough to arouse him again just yet, but not leaving him unaffected either.

The sensation of satin on skin wandered up to his shoulder and down his back, leaving him trembling.

“Mmm, that's interesting.” Astrid’s voice suddenly came from behind him, the touch of her hand joining that of the scarf. “I didn't know this is how you react to satin.”

Hiccup blinked and shook his head to clear it. “Me neither,” he muttered in a raspy voice.

Astrid moved closer, wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and leaned her head on his shoulder. “And… do you like it?”

That was a loaded question, coming from her. Hiccup gulped, thinking about it. Then he gave a small nod. “Yeah. I… I think I do.”

“Excellent!” She nibbled at his ear, giggling. “I’ll make sure to remember that for another time.”

. o O o .

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *

If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)

[ayellowcurtain]

Is it fair to say that the druck fandom is more socially engaged and critical in their analysis to match the nature of the show, while wtfock fandom is much more light hearted and laid back? Less critically analytical of the show and uneasy about covering controversial topics so collectively gravitate to simplier matters or superficial matters in its place, which in turn helps to create an easier environment for anybody to participate in?

I don’t know, anon. In parts, yes. I wouldn’t say it’s completely fair for a couple of reasons: 

My very long, confusing explanation as to why under the cut. 

Like I said before, my problem with Druck comes almost completely from the fandom. It’s like Druck and their fandom are opposite things. 

It has very little to do with the actual show or how they’re engaging or critical with the conversations they’re trying to start. If I had to complain about Druck - the show, it would be how they drag their dramas for too long. How their hell weeks most of the time last a month instead. Even with my dislike for that part of the show, it doesn’t make me stop watching the show, stop understanding how good they are at telling their stories. 

With the fandom, it seems like everything it’s dragged too far. 

While Druck is trying to start and keep important conversations going, the fandom is like: there’s no room for conversation. They set their mind with their opinions and if you disagree, you’re out. There’s no room for mistakes, for healthy conversation, no space for growth. And this type of behavior isn’t new, it started back in the day, with that druck is the superior remake bullshit and now it’s everything else, and I feel like this “no room for conversation” began with that entitled-ness of the superior remake. 

Now with WTFock: I think a lot of this laid back and light-hearted-ness comes from two things: 

When WTFock started, the tumblr fandom was like...ten, fifteen people. When the tag had fifteen different people talking, it was a busy day for the fandom. So it felt like it was a small secret only a few people were watching so there was not much room for entitled-ness. We were all just chilling, enjoying the remake that seemed to be the smaller one. 

The second thing is: WTFock is chaotic. Not only the show that can be real messy at times but also the fandom. People freak the fuck out over the tiniest things, they make big deal out of nothing, they make memes left and right out of everything. 

During the second half of Robbe’s season and on, things got bigger and obviously, more serious conversations and drama started happening. And also WTFock started making bigger and worse mistakes, all leading up to the catastrophe that was season 4. But the fifteen people that were here from the start were people that would listen, that would be able to listen to each other, even if disagreeing about things and so when the fandom got bigger, the newbies understood that this was not a place of completely canceling others for having different opinions. 

But the WTFock fandom knows when the show fucks it up. Most of the time, it’s just not a matter of canceling whoever thinks differently than you. 

One example of many is: When the attack happened during Robbe’s season, there were people in shock as to why they would keep such a violent scene to traumatize part of their audience. There were also people that thought a scene like that one was needed for people to understand that not always you’ll be able to make out with your lover in a public space and be safe. That in the perfect world, that scene would have a happy ending, yes, but that it’s not everyone’s reality and it should be shown. 

Do you see the difference? There’s no complete right or completely wrong, both opinions are valid and were considered. Sure, people left after the attack because it was triggering to them and they’re not wrong, you shouldn’t watch something that only hurts you, but people stayed and neither of them erases the experience of the other. 

That was just an example, but the same happened when the sex scene was so graphic for some and normal for others. There is room for conversation and for respectful different opinions. 

And when things actually went too far (when people started overanalyzing the sex scenes, when people started finding excuses for K**o’s behavior) they were rightfully called out, and IF needed, put aside from the fandom. So I don’t think WTFock picks the easier conversations, no, but I do think they can understand different opinions, and, if needed, they’ll have difficult conversations and call people out on their bullshit. 

I’ll put it like this: 

There’s a friends’ hang out session, ok? It’s 15, maybe 20 people that are scheduling to sit down, relax and watch their show together, eat some snacks, drink some stuff. Whatever. 

If it’s WTFock, you might be on time, you’ll sit and relax and watch the show with your friends, some people might be five minutes late, and make noises, but it’s okay, we’re all chilling. Maybe stop from time to time to eat snacks and drink while having the harder conversations the show failed to explain completely and justify. It’s nice, maybe there are different opinions, but we’re all hearing each other and respecting if we disagree on shit. After the conversation, and after making stupid jokes about soggy food or something, we’ll all sit back down and continue with our WTFock date night. If you come late and you’re saying shit that’s disrespectful, and racist and shit, we’ll look at you and ask for you to leave and we’ll move on once you’re out. 

If it’s Druck, you might get there on time, but somehow, the others are already watching the show, and if you make such a thing as a single noise, you’ll get ugly stares left and right. You might find a place to sit down and watch quietly and you’ll start enjoying, loving the show even, but you’ll often hear people judging, analyzing, not only the show but you for being so disrespectful for making a sound. How rude of you for having loud sneakers that made the wood floor squeak. You’ll watch the show, and god it’s such a good show, but suddenly, someone stops it and you notice that it’s time for the snacks and drinks but nobody asks for you to join, so you sit aside and eat a few chips whenever you can reach the bowl. They’re talking about the show, and you have a completely different experience than their of it, but if you say it out loud, they’ll judge you and ask you to leave if you don’t agree, and while you’re walking away, you’ll hear people whispering rude comments about you while praising a show that’s a lot about respecting differences.