#to clarify I kind of hate what I’ve written

[fyreflys]

Prompt if you’d like it! Peeta giving his cold to Katniss on accident but since she no longer has a spleen, it turns into a more flu like illness for poor Katniss and Peeta must nurse her back to health (similar to her caring for him in the cave but ya know… #married)

Oooo this is an adorable idea! And I got another prompt that I think I can include that would work perfectly together. MERGE TIME!

Chicken Noodle Soup

(Katniss’s POV) - Love and Some Verses, Iron & Wine

Everlark period/sick-fic, just fluff fluff fluff

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you sick.”

Is what Peeta keeps telling her. Constantly apologizing for transferring his cold. Even though Katniss didn’t even bother trying to keep her distance to avoid getting sick, so really it’s her own fault.

Katniss is pretty sure that no one ever really intentionally tries to get others sick, it’s always an accident. Happens as a result of what being sick means. And she knows Peeta didn’t do it on purpose, he couldn’t possibly have wanted to make her sick as a dog. So the fact that he keeps apologizing, as if there’s any possibility that he did do this on purpose, is beginning to make it feel like maybe he did. That, and it’s getting annoying. Very quickly.

“Peeta,” she groans, “Just- shut up.”

She doesn’t actually mean that. He’s really the only thing keeping her sane right now. She’s been bed ridden for three days now, and if her body didn’t feel like shit, there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for a hike in the woods.

“Sorry.” He whispers, dabbing the wet washcloth on her forehead.

Yesterday Peeta dragged her to the doctor, because he’s convinced she’s dying. The doctor just confirmed it’s a bad cold, made worse by the fact that Katniss no longer has a spleen to help her immune system. He gave them some medication that “might” help, and then sent them on their way.

Needless to say, Katniss was not happy. Mostly because Peeta had dragged her out of the house when she felt like shit for no apparent reason.

Peeta was angry too. Kept mumbling something about “malpractice” and the doctor being an “idiot” and then trying to convince her that they need to go to the Capital, to see a “real” doctor.

“Peeta, I’m not sure if you have forgotten, but I’m in exile. Banned, to stay here in twelve for the rest of my life. So no, we cannot go to the Capital.”

She doesn’t mention the fact that she really doesn’t want to be re-reminded of all the terrible things that they’ve seen and had happen to them; most of which happened in the Capital.

“You’re the mockingjay. If something was majorly wrong with you, they’d have to save you.”

“I don’t want to be the mockingjay, anymore.” She’d grumbled as he tucked her back into bed, “and I’ve lived through worse than this.”

He frowned. Much like he is right now, as he looks at her with those big, blue, pleading puppy dog eyes.

“What?” She rasps.

He licks his lips. “I just…I’m so sorry you’re sick.”

She swears his heart is too big for his own good.

“You know what would make me feel better?” She sighs.

He perks up. “What?”

“Cuddle.” She whispers. She’d usually reach out to grab him, but her body feels too much like lead to exert that much energy.

He smiles. “I can do that.”

He peels back the bedsheets, and Katniss shivers at what feels like freezing air. He curls in behind her, gently squeezing her close. She melts against him. The arm around her warm and comforting. Until his hand slips under her shirt and his fingers start tracing patterns on her side, and he begins to pepper kisses to her shoulders. Despite them being small and gentle touches, her nerves feel overly sensitive with how feverish she is, and each soft graze almost feels painful.

“Stop- please,” she whispers, “that- too sensitive.” She mumbles.

“Oh. Sorry.” He places one more peck to her cheek, and then leaves her be.

She falls into sleep like a rock tossed down a ravine, skipping sleep entirely and diving straight into dreams. The world feels like it’s tilting and spinning around her as she dreams. They start out as strange and uncomfortable, but somewhere along the way they get more and more unhinged, twisted visions persisting, until finally-

She startles awake suddenly, eyes snapping open as she gasps for air. The nightmare feels plastered to her eyelids.

“Peeta?” She croaks softly, heart hammering in her chest as a tear slips down her cheek.

But she’s alone. Peeta is nowhere to be seen. She forces herself to reach across the bed behind her in search of him. But he’s not there either.

Momentarily she fears he’s abandoned her, but then she realizes that’s ridiculous. She couldn’t escape him even if she wanted to.

She tries to shake the nightmare from her head. Desperately trying to imagine something else, like- Deer. Deer and squirrels, prancing through the forest. The nightmare was not real not real not real, as Peeta would say.

She takes a deep breath. Her entire body aches painfully. Specifically her lower back and her hips and- oh.

Even sick, and aching all over, she knows this feeling well.

“Damn it.” She huffs.

She supposes it was about time this happened again. She doesn’t bother keeping track. There’s no use with how irregular she is.

“Peeta.” She calls, but her voice is weak.

He doesn’t come. Where is he? She sighs. She’s going to have to do this herself, isn’t she?

She wills herself to gather any remaining energy she has to sit up. It takes a few minutes to convince herself.

I could just wait here, until he comes back-

No.

She sits up suddenly, impulsively, not giving herself a chance to talk herself out of it. Her head spins, pain pounding through her skull. She coughs, clutching her head.

When the throbbing passes she manages to will her legs to dangle over the side of the bed. And then on the count of three she stands. She’s shaky, and the air is freezing agaisnt her feverish skin, and it’s awful.

Just get to the bathroom-

She makes it a few steps towards the door. And then she stumbles. She just barely catches the doorknob. She sends the door slamming closed as she falls.

“Katniss?!” Peeta shouts from down stairs.

She rolls over onto her back, and the world feels like it’s still spinning. He comes rushing into the bedroom, crouching down when he sees her.

“Oh my god are you okay?” Hands are immediately at her head, feeling for any bumps or bleeding, “What happened? Why are you out of bed?”

He sits and sets her head in his lap, brushing hair out of her face.

“Bathroom.” She whispers. “Just. Fell.”

“You should have called for me I would have helped.”

“I did.” She breathes, and even talking is exhausting. With Peeta right above her the world finally stops spinning.

He frowns. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was making pasta.”

She takes in a breath through her mouth, nose too stuffy. “Bathroom.”

“Well- I think we should take a moment. You just- what, fell trying to walk? That’s pretty concerning,” He feels her forehead, “and you’re really burning up, gosh.”

She could have told him she had a fever. It feels like it’s radiating through her bones.

“Toilet,” her tongue clicks softly in her mouth, feeling dry, “Bleeding.”

“Bleeding? What- where? Why didn’t you say you were bleeding! Oh my god-“ he starts to shuffle, pulling at her clothes to find the source.

“Period.” She groans, just about fed up with him.

“Oh.” He pauses. “Right. Okay. Let’s get that taken care of then.”

He shuffles to sit her up against the wall, and then scoops her up bridal style. He carefully sets her down by the toilet, holding on as he pulls down her sweats and underwear in one fell swoop.

And yep- there it is. A massacre in her pants.

Peeta helps her sit, making sure she’s stable enough to sit up on her own. He pulls off her sweats and underwear, turning on the sink to set them in.

“Cold,” she whispers.

“Cold? You’re cold?”

Well- yeah, she kind of is. Despite feeling like she’s burning up from the inside, the floor and the toilet seat and the air is freezing against her skin. But she’s referring to the water.

“Yeah,” she breathes, “But-water. Cold water.”

“You need cold water? I can get you water. You’re probably thirsty you’ve been asleep for like four hours.”

Okay, yes, that too. She could use a glass of water.

“Yes, but- blood. Needs cold water.”

“Oh! Yeah, okay. Cold water. Right.”

She closes her eyes, slumping on the toilet as she pees. Peeta leaves to grab stuff from the bedroom. He returns with a fresh pair of clothes. He holds a cup of water up to her lips, and she sips. It feels like heaven down her throat.

“Thanks.” She breathes.

He just pecks her forehead. “How bout I run you a short bath? Luke warm. Try to get your body temp down. And you could really use a shower.”

She groans.

“I know- I know. But it will make you feel better, I promise.”

She just grumbles. He gets to work running a bath, and then scrubs the blood out of her underwear under the sink. He struggles to get a pad into the clean pair of undies, and Katniss finally wills herself to use the little energy she does have to show him. He kisses her cheek.

“Right. Got it. Now let’s get you in.”

She complains, but doesn’t have the energy to fight against him. He pulls off her sweaty t-shirt, and picks her up and sets her down in the tub. The water feels freezing at first. She yelps, clutching at him.

“I know- I know it feels cold but I promise it will help. You’re burning up Katniss. We need to cool you down.”

She holds onto him, and he presses kisses against her head. After a few minutes it starts to feel okay. He gently pours water through her hair. He scrubs in shampoo and rinses. He gently scrubs her with a warm soapy washcloth after he pulls the drain, just under her arms and between her legs, barely batting an eye at the blood. They’ve both seen enough of it for a lifetime. He turns on the shower head to rinse her off. The water feels like freezing needles against her overly sensitive skin. By the time he gets her out and finishes toweling her off she’s pissed.

She glowers at him from the toilet as he dresses her. He ignores her scathing eyes as he sprays in conditioner and brushes her hair, fumbling to put it in a makeshift braid.

“There! See, all better!” He smiles when he’s done.

She is not amused. Yes, her body feels less like a boiling fire, but she still hurts. And despite him doing all the work, she’s exhausted. But she’s too angry and stubborn to admit it, or even consider closing her eyes for some shut eye.

He chuckles. “You’re such a sourpuss when you’re sick, you know that?”

“That was hell.” She snips.

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Yeah yeah, okay Haymitch.”

He pulls her off the toilet and pulls up her underwear and pants. He gently scoops her up.

“You want to set up camp downstairs on the couch? That way it’s easier to get my attention if you need something. Also I’m making you soup.”

She gives a grunt, and winces as the pain that radiates up and down her spine and belly.

“I’ll grab you some painkillers.” He adds on.

She would usually turn those down. But at this point she’ll take them.

He gently lays her on the couch. He runs back upstairs to grab linens. He comes back down with arms full of blankets and pillows. He drops them in a heap on the floor. He leaves again. Katniss looses track of all the things he runs off and gets, eyes slipping closed.

He takes her temperature.

He hisses, “One o’ two. Yeah. You’re definitely getting meds.” Which he shoves into her mouth very shortly afterward. He tries not to look worried, but she can tell that he is. She’s worse than she was yesterday. He forces her to take the medication the doctor gave them the day before. She doesn’t have the energy to fight him.

He tucks her in under one blanket, but gives her plenty of pillows. He sets tissues and a glass of water on the side table next to her head. He kisses her forehead.

“Anything else you need?” He says softly.

Probably. But right now she’s exhausted. And talking is too much energy. So she just hums.

“Okay. Soup should be ready in thirty minutes or so. Do you want me to wake you up or let you sleep?”

Truthfully, she wants him to curl in beside her on the couch and not leave her side. Because with him pressed against her, she has a semblance of relief.

Instead she just grunts. He pecks her forehead again, chuckling softly.

“Okay.”

And then she’s left alone. And despite being tired, she can’t seem to fall sleep. The pain is just too much. Enough that she’d toss and turn, but she doesn’t have the energy to do so. So instead she lays motionless in agony, waiting for meds to kick in.

It’s possible she does drift off. But it seems like each time her eyes open the grandfather clock by her mothers old bedroom door hasn’t moved an inch.

Finally Peeta reappears, with a steaming bowl in hands.

“Chicken noodle soup, for m’lady.” He bows, just for the dramatics.

He helps her sit up, and carefully spoons it to her lips. With how much pain shes in, the thought of food makes her nauseous. But Peeta coaxes her to eat. And she does. One small spoonful at a time. With how stuffed her nose is she can barely taste it, but what she does taste is good.

And it reminds her of the cave, in their first games. As she spoon fed him. Monitoring his leg. Trying everything she could think of to keep him alive.

Thankfully, now is nothing like that. This is peaceful, and warm, and safe.

With food in her belly she realizes how hungry she is. And she just about scarfs down the rest of the bowl, along with the hunk of bread he dips in the broth. And she feels like she has a little more energy.

“You want more?” He asks softly.

She shakes her head. She feels too full. Any more and she might puke.

“Your appetite is back. That’s a good thing.”

“I feel like I’m going to puke.” She grumbles.

“Like- actually?” He freezes, shifting as if ready to grab a bin.

“No- just- a lot of food. Nauseous from the pain.”

He frowns. “The pain meds should have kicked in already. You look better. Less pale.” He feels her forehead. “You don’t feel as hot.”

She winces. “Cramps.”

His face relaxes. “Oh.”

She closes her eyes. With a full belly she’s ready to pass out.

“What if…I tried to rub them out?” He says softly.

Her eyes flicker open lazily. “Please. And- my back- please.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He leans in press a kiss to her forehead.

He gently pushes her to lay down. He tugs up her shirt and pulls the waistband of her pajama pants lower.

“Where does it hurt?” He asks softly.

She slowly moves to touch, fingers almost feeling numb against her own skin as she traces just inside of her pelvic crests, and down below her belly button. His warm hands are still almost too much against her feverish skin when he reaches out. But she needs this.

He’s far too gentle.

“Harder,” she whispers, “like bread.”

He’s good at kneading bread.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you-“

“There’s no way you could make me feel worse than I already do. Please.”

And finally his palms and thumbs press in. She urges more, and more, and finally gets impatient and shifts his hands to press right there and- oh. It feels so good she actually moans.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh?”

“Shut up.” She gasps.

He grins wickedly. But doesn’t comment on any more of her breathless gasps as he digs in and finally gives her relief.

“When- you’re done,” she breathes, “gonna need- bathroom.”

He pauses, “Do you have to pee? I’m literally pressing like right on your bladder-“

“No- new pad.” Because he’s quite literally kneading the blood right out of her. Which would usually be disgusting, but right now the relief feels too good for her to care.

“Oh. Okay.” And he keeps going.

She nearly falls asleep with his hands on her stomach. She still hurts, and the pain still radiates through her bones, but the stretch of her cramping muscles is almost heavenly. She closes her eyes, and Peeta presses kisses to her shoulders, trailing down to her stomach. He rubs softly after he pulls back, hands sliding over her hips.

“You want me to do your back?” He asks softly.

She hums. He helps flip her over. His hands and fingers roam over her skin, pressing and pulling all the way up her spine and between her shoulders. She practically melts into the couch as he soothes her aches. His lips ghost over her skin in subtle kisses, and she never wants it to end.

Eventually he pulls away, tugging her shirt back down.

“Bathroom?” He asks.

She grumbles. “Don’t wanna move.”

He hums. He forces her off the couch anyways, and drags her to the bathroom. She changes things herself, and then he helps her back to the couch.

“I’m gonna eat and then we can snuggle. If you want. I can turn on the TV.”

She just grunts. He turns on the screen above their fireplace mantle, and flips through channels. He lands on a show they’ve binge watched over the years, and then leaves for the kitchen. She zones out the sounds and clatter that he makes. Finally he sits down by her feet with a bowl of soup, and her eyelids feel heavy. She drifts halfway between awake and asleep, until he curls up with her. He presses a kiss to her temple.

“Thank you.” She whispers. He’s done more than enough for her. And she knows he’d do everything if he had to. And she is thankful.

“Of course.” He breathes. And pecks her lips.

She smiles, and uses the little energy she does have to snake an arm around him and hold him close. Their foreheads knock together.

“I love you.” He breathes softly.

She hums, “Love you too.”

[anonfandombandit]

hi. I wanted to reach out privately to ask whether you are using AI to write any of your fics. me and a few others are concerned you may be using AI to aid you in writing. some of the proof we have gathered:

excessive use of dashes and semi colons in a way that a human would not use them

repetitive use of certain words and phrases like 'smirks' 'thunderous' 'says softly' 'her eyes were piercing'

chapters being 20-30000+ words written in a short time frame

not using a beta reader who would pick up use of AI in your writing

using AI evasion tools to avoid AI checkers

please clarify if you are using generative AI when writing because its damaging to the writing community and you should be declaring if you are using it

I’ve been debating how to respond to this for a while now. I’ll be honest, when I first read it, I laughed. My first immediate thought was “wow, guess this makes me a real agathario writer now” because is it not a right of passage to get accused of using AI in this community?

Really, though, I’m kind of insulted. Bitterly so. So much so that I’m too offended to even feel really angry or upset. The fact you have sent this anonymously and “privately” is proof enough to me that you are not actually concerned, and have malicious intent. Who exactly are these “few other people” you are talking about? Why not post this publicly with your name behind it, if you’re so confident in your accusations? Doing so anonymously is, frankly, cowardly.

To make it incredibly clear - No. I don’t use AI in any of my fics. I literally work in academia where we are allergic to AI use. It’s false authorship. Using it in my career would end it. I’ve been writing fics for half of my life, I’d like to think I don’t need to rely on shitty AI prose and dialogue to tell a story. And I’m fully aware of how damaging AI use is to fic writers which is why I am vehemently against it. I’ve spoken to several other writers in the coven about how much I hate it.

Your proof is hilarious. Yes, I like semi colons and dashes. That’s my writing style. Is my use of the Oxford comma also suspicious to you? I also have favourite phrases and words I like to use, like every other writer. The 20k/30k chapters you are talking about were written in, on average, a month, so that’s ~1k words written a day which any other writer could tell you is possible. Also need I remind you that the 30k chapter was written while I was off work and bed-bound with pneumonia? So yeah, I might have had a little more free time to write in February and March.

I do my own editing rather than having a beta reader because throwing a novella at them to give feedback on would be insane. And I can only assume you are saying I’m using “AI evasion tools” (which…. What. What are you talking about) because you tried to use an AI detector on my fics and they came back with nothing. Because guess what. I don’t use AI. Because I love my fics.

Anyway. Guess I’m just going to feel bitter for a while over this. I was planning on scaling back my writing anyway in the summer since my PhD thesis writing period is approaching, but I might just start now. I’ll be focusing on safeword, hopeless and fragile things for the moment. I might write some short fics for AAA week but probably won’t find the time.

Thanks to everybody who has been so supportive and patient with me and my fic posting. I know it sucks that you have to wait so long between chapters, especially for safeword. But part of why they take so long is because I don’t want to rush writing them. I really appreciate everyone who has reached out to tell me how much my fics mean to them and how you have enjoyed them.

[junkdrawerthoughts]

You guys, I am down on my hands and knees begging you to please stop putting random things in the {character} x reader tags. 🙏🏻

I’m talking about things like answering asks that don’t have the fic actually written in the ask, random life updates, random story non-updates apologizing to the entire fandom for not updating or saying that you plan to update soon.

And please, can we stop tagging other characters x reader fics in another character’s x reader tag?

I’m really bad at gauging how things could come across over text, so I wanna clarify just incase that I don’t mean this in a hateful way at all. It’s just that it makes it so incredibly hard to find fics when the tags are filled up with a bunch of other stuff, you know what I mean?

Take Azriel for example—Azriel x Reader is incredibly popular, and that’s totally fine, but the Azriel girlies don’t have to spend a whole lot of time looking for Az fics, because he’s a fan fav and lots of writers enjoy writing for him. But then if you go and tag Az fics or other posts in the Rhysand or Cassian x Reader tags, it makes it difficult for Rhysand and Cassian girlies to find the fics they’re looking for. They don’t get as many fics written about them, so it pushes those fics down deep in the tags, and it kind of becomes a hunt to find them sometimes.

And once again using the Az tag as an example for posting random things, because Azriel gets so much attention, having a bunch of extra stuff in the fic tag pushes a lot of stuff down. So, if somebody were to take a little time off tumblr for say something as little as a week or two, it takes infinitely longer to catch up on all the wonderful fics that have been posted because you have to scroll through a ton of other stuff that either aren’t fics or aren’t Az fics.

I say all this because I’m a mood reader. The batboy that I’m fucking with today depends on how I’m feeling, so I bounce around a lot, and it can get frustrating sometimes trying to find fics—especially older fics for say Rhys or Cass once I’ve read everything current.

We all know Tumblr tagging sucks and the search function is kind of ass, but they don’t really seem to care about that lol, so we kind of have to help each other out by making sure we tag things properly and leave out things that don’t belong, you know?

P.S. I’ll probably get rid of this in a couple days so it doesn’t clog up the tags, but I really kind of needed to talk about it a little because it’s been bothering me for months.

[humanelemental]

Different anon, but yes to everything you've said! I'm still so disappointed we got absolutely nothing in the flashback. Like not confirming Rio as the other parent and not getting to at least see the happier times between them (this could have easily been a quick montage). I think this is where 95% of my issues with the Agathario storyline fall. Without Kathryn and Aubrey's incredible chemistry, this pairing would have fallen completely flat. And no comment on Billy lol Such a bland character.

This got away from me so I’m tucking it under the cut.

Yes! That’s why Jac saying all of this post show high key pisses me off! Because from where were we supposed to draw these conclusions that she supposedly wanted to be very obvious. Surely it wasn’t the script. Surely it wasn’t the cut content. Surely it wasn’t how the character’s are written with each other.

For God’s sake, Agatha says Rio’s name one time and it’s not even to her. I was starting to wonder if she even knew her by that name. There’s no terms of endearment, not even angry name calling. She never addresses her at all. And to me that’s such a frustrating detail! Like this is your ex wife? Agatha has a pet name for everyone, good or ill. But nothing for Rio?

Like we had that scene in episode four, which to this day will go down as the most longing I’ve ever scene. And not even a whisper of baby? Sweetheart? Honey? Like Agatha was locked in and fucking cradling the mother of her child and nothing? Same with episode 8. Rio pushes Agatha to the point that after their meeting she crashes out on the road and we don’t even get a “thats enough Rio!” They’re talking about Rio taking their dead son’s soul and we get no reference to this not just being an ex or a former friend but her fucking wife??? Not even a, “you killed our SON!!!” Which wouldn’t have been accurate but it would have fit with what is clearly Agatha’s narrative.

Also also, if we’re crashing out anyway and I’m telling the love of my very long life that she only brings me pain and I never want to see her again? I’m absolutely throwing it in her face that she left me with our son’s cold dead corpse to bury alone with my bare hands in the fucking woods. And, I hate to say it, I think Agatha might be pettier than me. So there’s no way she’s letting that shit go. You cannot convince me that this show wasn’t just being written off the cuff. There are too many moments that just fall flat in really weird ways for this to have been the vision from the beginning.

Also^3 what the fuck was with them giving us no information about the Darkhold, how Agatha got it for real, when she got it, why ect. I mean we can assume, God I’m tired of that, that she was trying to bring Nicky back based on how she acted with Wanda. But beyond that, we have no information on this very pivotal part of her history. And it kept getting brought up, so I hoped we would see something on it.

I completely agree that Kathryn and Aubrey, and the other talented actors and actresses, carried this show in spite of the script. So much of both of their characters come from their physical acting it’s insane. Like can you imagine how bland Rio would be if it wasn’t Aubrey’s adorably unhinged self playing her? Girl said she was eating flowers on set. Like ma’am that’s in zero shots of the final show. She was just out there literally chewing on the scenery. And Kathryn can say more with an expression than most soliloquies. Plus she so consistent with how she physically plays Agatha it’s nuts. Like yes on set for AAA is understandable, but she brought the same mannerisms from WV. Like the finger thing she always does. It’s so crazy impressive.

As a final note, I really liked teen when he was a kind of goofy/sarcastic sidekick that kind of gave off the same vaguely unhinged vibes that Agatha and Rio give. Like the parts where he’s helping blackmail Jen only to turn around an hour later and offer her stale party favors? Peak Teen for me. Also I want to clarify I mean no hate whatsoever to Joe Locke. He’s brilliant and has a wonderful future as an actor ahead of him. I just hated that we lost half the show to him.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

A Boy, A Twisted Memory and A Desire for Love

So this is the first official Ghost story on my blog. I know, I know, it's been a long time writing and I've not written something for the guy, but it's really just because I get so worried about writing him poorly.

I know he's a big military guy who hates having emotions and kills any and all kindness in his heart, but I also really like the idea of him exploring the concept of healing from his trauma? I dunno, I just thought about it.

Also, like König, I can't imagine Ghost keeping normal pets. Originally I had him get a spider, but then I read over his backstory again and it made more sense for him to get a venomous snake. I think it's a major step to overcoming his trauma. By the way! Big trigger warning, this is about a snake! This entire fic centres around a snake!

Anyways, I had some fun writing this but it made me super sad.

TW: Snake, discussion of past abuse, emotional trauma, child abuse (referenced), emotional disregulation

Wordcount: 1.7k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

A Boy, A Twisted Memory and A Desire for Love

Simon locked eyes with the little black and yellow creature housed deep within its cave. It was a small thing, barely hatched from its egg it looked like. The length of a ruler at most. It was a light thing, covered in fine scales along its supple body. This thing was venomous, yes, but it couldn’t do any real damage. It was a threat maybe to a mouse, but a man such as himself wouldn't fall to such weak poison. Swelling, pain, nausea, yes. But death? Not quite.

And yet, his heart quickened within his chest. He could feel the sweat forming on his brow. It had been so long since he’d seen one of these beasts, and yet the same fear from back then wormed its way inside him now.

“Hungry?” Simon’s voice was particularly gravelly, roughened by sleep deprivation and lack of use.

The creature made no move. He’d be surprised if the thing even heard him. Did it even have ears? He’d have to ask the breeder later.

“Been a long time since I’ve seen one of yer kind before,” he admitted. He didn’t quite know why, but it felt somewhat soothing to speak to the thing.

“I killed the last one of ye that I saw. Crushed the fucker right under my boot, I did.”

It didn’t seem to scare the beast off. He wondered if it really was more afraid of him than he was of it. He hoped that was true. He didn’t want to admit that the fear still wriggled under his skin.

“He wasn’t anything like what my dad ‘ad,” Simon closed his eyes as the oppressive memories washed over him, “that one was a right bastard. Bigger than anything I’ve seen ever since. Shoved it right in my face, he did. Wouldn’t let me go till I kissed it right on the lips. If it bit me, I wouldn’t be standin’ ‘ere. But you,” Simon opened his eyes, dark eyes matching two glassy eyes of inky black, “you’re nothing. You're pathetic. You’re… You're so small.”

Simon turned back to the breeder.

Finally, the creature came to its senses and slithered back further into its burrow. So sleek and streamlined, and yet so slow to move. It was afraid of him, that Simon decided the moment he noticed that despite backing away, it didn’t dare look elsewhere.

“How much for this one?” he asked as he pointed at the plastic cube.

“That one?” the woman blinked and looked at what he was pointing at, “the female or the male?”

“The female,” Simon clarified.

“Oh she’s pretty, isn’t she?” the woman adjusted her glasses as she slid behind the plastic cube, “poor girl’s probably pretty scared being out here.” She didn’t mention how terrifying Simon was in his dark clothing, rough fabric stretched tight across his broad frame. He was used to scaring people by this point. Sometimes, like now, he wished he wasn’t.

“How do you pronounce that?” Simon pointed at the name that had been scrawled in blue ballpoint pen on a blank sticker.

“Boida dendrophila,” the woman replied, “she’s pretty young, but she’ll get big soon enough.”

“She’s one of them big ones, yeah?” Simon asked aloofly.

“You bet your arse,” the woman grinned, “she’ll be big soon enough. Don’t know much about ‘em?”

“Oh no,” Simon leaned down to take a better look at the little beast, “I’ve been doing my reading.”

“You got a big enough enclosure for her?” the woman quizzed him.

“Sure do,” Simon hummed, “I built her an enclosure myself. It’s nearly as tall as me, long too. Got some nice branches for her to climb and all that..”

“Wow that’s a lot of space. You sure that’s not too much?” the woman frowned.

“She won’t be in there for a bit, I’ve got something for while she’s small,” Simon reasoned.

What a stupid question.

“Oh well that’s fine,” the woman broke out into another smile, “but yeah she’s eating mostly baby mice, an adult once in a while. You know she’ll be eating bigger things when she’s full grown, right? You can handle that?”

“I think I’ll be quite alright,” Simon mused, “have to admit, she’s a right beauty.”

“She really is, isn’t she?” the woman gushed, “I’ve been raising her since she was just hatched. But now? Well, normally I sell them off a bit sooner, but she grew on me. Unfortunately, the husband isn’t too fond of her and wants her to be moved on.”

“Why’s that?” Simon looked at the woman from behind his sunglasses.

“Oh he got bit when she was the length of a pencil,” the woman laughed, “he’s held it against her ever since!”

“Heard her kind can get pretty feisty,” Simon commented as he looked back at the spider.

“They can get a bit aggressive, I won't lie to you. A bit territorial, too,” the woman explained carefully so as not to scare off the only interested customer she had all weekend.

“Real fast,” Simon continued on, “with nasty bites.”

“Sounds like you’ve done your reading,” the woman laughed uncomfortably.

“Course,” Simon refrained from rolling his eyes, “so how much is she? The sticker’s ripped.”

“She’s on sale, actually,” the woman grinned, “only a couple hundred quid.”

“That much, eh?” Simon straightened up to tower over the slender woman.

“Normally she could be anywhere up to four hundred,” the woman fought back against the subtle threat of intimidation.

“Well then,” Simon looked down at the cube, “looks like I got a good deal then.”

“You won’t go stompin’ on her, will you?” the woman furrowed her brows.

“No ma’am, that was just what I had to do when I went out to the Middle East,” Simon chuckled humorlessly, “I wouldn’t dream of hurtin’ this here little lady.”

The woman grinned as she counted her bills, Simon smiled just slightly as he picked up the container and brought it back to his car.

When he got home, he carefully moved the little creature into the glass enclosure of dirt, leaf litter and cork bark. He put it back in its place on his shelf and smiled.

“Dendrophila, eh?” he chuckled, “how ‘bout Ophelia? That’s a cute lil name for ya.”

The creature only burrowed away under the cork bark, eager to get out of sight of the frightening giant before her. He didn’t blame the little thing, he’d be terrified of himself if he was a younger man.

Once, he’d hardened himself into an unstoppable thing, a monster of a man. He had formed his shell through cruel lashings the world had lavished upon him. He took ablutions in raining blood. He was festering sickness or silver sin. He was what he despised in the world, the monster he tried to protect his own family from. When his brothers in arms welcomed each other warmly, they regarded him as a feral dog to be kept at a distance, chained in the backyard, out in the rain.

In Simon’s heart there was no room for love. He was not a man forged in kindness and love. He was the unfortunate son of Mr. Riley, cursed from birth to be raised in the muck and mire of human atrocities. He had been calloused by the time he was nine, and by the time he joined the military even the recruiting officers were afraid of him. He was too cruel, too strict, too much for anyone to handle. He could brute-force his way through life, but only for so long.

Even monsters had hearts. This was the unfortunate fact that Simon had learned far too late in life. He hated himself for how he wallowed in his loneliness. He thought his team would be enough, but there was a despicable part that still resided deep within him. He could offer his rotten sort of love to his teammates, but he could never care for them like he needed to. There was a part of him that had been stunted since childhood, and far too late it breached his skin to scream into his ears, begging him to please just notice me, notice me and don't let me die here inside of you.

He didn’t want to, but he spoke to a therapist. It was Price's advice after he'd broken down with a bottle of whisky in one hand and a revolver in the other. Price promised to never say a word as he unwound his lieutenant's fingers from the trigger.

A week later he'd arrived at a small office. They’d been cowed by him at first. Everyone was, but something about frightening the one person he wanted to be helped by hurt a part of Simon he wished to rip from his chest. Once he would have laughed, but in that office, he could only hurt. No tears fell, but his walls did and he was able to speak openly for the first time in his entire life without the help of a bottle of jack and a pair of dice. It felt wrong. He hated it, but he learned.

His therapist told him that to help rid himself of this festering parasite of an emotion, he should try to nurture the damned thing. Simon had laughed in the man’s face. He then told him to go to Hell. The man had learned not to flinch in the face of a predator, and so pushed forth. He said that to grow, Simon could try getting a cat or a dog. Something he could raise with the love he never had been given as a boy.

He said that he needed something to love or else he'd never be able to heal. Simon scoffed and left the room, but not before booking another appointment. The smug look on his therapist’s face disgusted him. He turned quickly and left.

So maybe it was out of spite that he bought Ophelia, but there was a part of him that felt like he needed the little creature. He needed something to love, and so he did. He loved the Ophelia with all his heart. He nurtured her and cared for her as best he could.

Months passed, and he started to handle Ophelia. She hissed, she scurried away, she did everything to get away from Simon’s touch. He figured that if he had to face himself, he’d do much the same. He wasn’t a creature born of love and compassion. He was death, in face and in heart, but each time he brought Ohpelia’s container out and changed her water, when she ate from his tongs, he could feel his rotten heart beating within his chest. It made him smile despite himself.

He was not a creature of love, and yet it was love he felt when Ophelia tentatively reached out and slithered up his hand. When he raised her up, ever so gently, he couldn’t help but cry.

How cruel was the world that a boy, born from street gutters and raised by heavy hands, would only ever feel love for the first time in a dingy London flat on his thirty-first birthday, alone save for the venomous snake in his hands?

Stories

Ghost Dump

[searchingwardrobes]

Scarborough Fair: 11/?

I'm so excited, ya'll! This is it - the wedding chapter! And the wedding night, which means sexy times. I don't write smut, so it's super steamy and then fades to black. Buuut this may just be the steamiest thing I've ever written. So, enjoy!

And a reminder of Emma's wedding dress:

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Emma Swan has had a charmed life, despite being a foster child. She has a wonderful family who loves her, and the best friends in the world. The only thing that mars her idyllic existence is her birth mother: a homeless woman who mutters nonsensical rhymes and claims to be Snow White. One fateful night, however, Emma’s world is shattered. Perhaps her mother’s rhymes aren’t nonsense after all.

Rated: M for date rape, dubious consent, teen pregnancy, and sexy times (the good kind!)

Words: Over 3k in this chapter

Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten

Also on Ao3

Tagging:  (let me know if you wish to be removed or added):  @snowbellewells@teamhook@kmomof4@jrob64@xhookswenchx-reads-blog@thisonesatellite@welllpthisishappening@spartanguard@ohmakemeahercules@tiganasummertree@sparlecorn93@sals86@pirateprincessofpizza@xarandomdreamx@zaharadessert@huntressandlioness1@jamif@undercaffinatednightmare@onceratheart18@sparlecorn93@sals86@pirateprincessofpizza@xarandomdreamx@zaharadessert@huntressandlioness1@jonesfandomfanatic​ @hollyethecurious @lfh1226-linda

Chapter Eleven

“I can’t believe I was so stupid!” Ingrid slammed her palm against the steering wheel as they drove back home.

“It isn’t your fault Ingrid,” Killian assured her. “I think it was that amulet he wears. When he touched it, something happened to me. My thoughts got muddied, and I was drawn towards him.”

Ingrid shook her head and pressed her lips into a thin line. “You withstood him better than I did,” she looked over at Emma, “you both did.”

Emma’s brow creased. “You’re right. Maybe it has something to do with what my mom and Belle both said about true love.”

“What did they say?” Ingrid asked. 

Killian cleared his throat. “Just that the love Emma and I have for each other can be protection against Rumplestiltskin.”

“Not exactly,” Emma laughed, looking back at Killian with pride sparkling in her eyes. “My mom seemed very relieved that I had Killian, and Belle said that Rumplestiltskin wasn’t counting on Killian being in the picture.”

“She said he hated me,” Killian clarified.

“Don’t listen to him,” Emma told Ingrid, “he’s basically my hero.”

Killian scoffed even as his cheeks pinked, and Emma laughed.

“Emma,” Ingrid scolded, “how can you be so flippant about this? I told that horrible man things about our family. I invited him to the wedding! He could ruin it somehow.”

Emma shook her head. “He won’t. I don’t think he even can. Don’t ask me how I know. I just do.”

Ingrid glanced at Killian’s reflection in the rearview mirror. He shrugged back at her. Emma was humming the tune of “Scarborough Fair,” of all things, looking contentedly out of the window. How their visit to the mental hospital could possibly have encouraged her was beyond him, but he loved her all the more for her sudden optimism. 

Ingrid’s phone started to ring, and she answered via her bluetooth.

“Hey babe,” she told Liam.

“Hello, love. I’ve got great news!”

“We can use as much of that as we can get. What is it?”

“That professor of agriculture got back to me. According to him, we can take a kernel of corn and grind it down. Then we add that corn ‘powder’ to something fine, like flaxseed, and sow that.”

“Will that count?” Emma piped up.

“He thinks so,” Liam said. “Apparently there’s some legend in . . . Wales? Scotland? I can’t remember, but anyways, in the legend a father won’t let his daughter marry the man she loves unless he can sow an entire field with just one kernel of corn. This was how he accomplished it.”

“You didn’t tell him about our situation, did you?” Ingrid asked with concern.

“Of course not! I told him I was thinking of publishing a second book about the song ‘Scarborough Fair,’ that’s all.”

“Okay, well, at least that’s one thing.”

“Elsa is doing some data analysis to figure out how fast Emma needs to plow before the tide comes in.”

“Now we just have to find this town no one knows.”

That was what worried Killian the most. None of them had any idea how to go about the second riddle. And after their visit to the mental hospital, it was more clear than ever that the future of many people, not just Emma’s, was in the balance. 

*******************************************************************

The next week and a half flew by, and before Emma knew it, she was sitting in front of Ingrid’s vanity mirror in her wedding dress. Ingrid was applying her makeup, and Anna was using a curling iron on her hair. They all yelped when the door flew open, but it was only Liam. 

“What’s with all the people downstairs?” he demanded.

Ingrid straightened up to look at him, a stick of eyeliner gripped between her fingers. “We’re having a wedding, dear, the living room is filled with guests.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “I’m aware of that. But I counted two priests, a rabbi, a baptist minister, a Buddhist monk, and some woman waving a gourd around.”

“The gourd is part of a Cherokee ritual to ward off evil spirits,” Ingrid explained as she leaned down to apply eyeliner to Emma’s eyelids, “and there’s only one priest. The other is an Episcopalian minister.”

“Ingrid, what’s with all the holy people, that’s what I’m asking!”

Ingrid sighed as she straightened once again from her task. “I invited an evil imp to this wedding by accident, okay? So I’m trying to counter that with anything and everything I possibly can!” 

Liam sighed. “That’s sweet of you, darling. Eccentric, but sweet.”

He stepped forward and placed a kiss against his wife’s cheek as Emma and Anna laughed. He left after promising for the fifth time that day to keep Killian downstairs. 

“Do you think he noticed the crystals you lined up on the fireplace mantel?” Emma asked when he was gone.

Ingrid chuckled. “Probably not.”

Anna let out a frustrated groan as she released another limp curl from the curling iron. “I’m not good at this!”

“I told you to use hot rollers,” said Ingrid. 

Emma shook her head. “I don’t want my hair too overdone.”

Anna gave Ingrid a weighted look. “If only Elsa were here. She’s the only one who can do that loose side braid you love.”

Suddenly, Ingrid’s walk-in closet burst open. “Did someone say they needed my help?”

Emma squealed with joy at the sight of Elsa stepping out of the closet. She jumped up and threw herself into her older sister’s arms. 

“I’m so glad you’re here!”

“And I’m glad to finally get out of the closet.” Elsa looked over Emma’s shoulder and scowled at her sister and her aunt. “I thought you two would never say the code word!”

“We didn’t know Liam was going to interrupt!” Anna retorted. 

Ingrid just laughed. “Sorry we hid this from you, Emma, but we wanted it to be a surprise.”

“I wasn’t sure I could make it, either,” Elsa explained, “so we didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Emma shook her head, dabbing carefully at tears that threatened her makeup. “I don’t care, I’m just so happy to see you! Will you be my second bridesmaid? You can wear the dress you have on - this wedding is very informal.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Elsa assured her. “Now, are we going to do something about your hair or not?”

*************************************************************

Killian stood in front of the fireplace in the Jones family living room, his brother standing at his side. He kept fidgeting and shifting from one foot to the other. 

“Nervous?” Liam asked him.

“No,” he answered without hesitation. He barely noticed all the people, most of whom he swore were strangers, crowded into their home. He didn’t feel he was giving up his freedom or being burdened, or any of the other cliches people used for grooms. He just wanted to see Emma descend the stairs. He wanted to pledge his life to her, slip the ring in Liam’s pocket onto her finger, kiss her, and then begin their life together. 

Liam’s friend and colleague, shoved into a tiny corner with his keyboard, began to play the processional, and Ingrid was the first to descend the stairs as Emma’s matron of honor, a tiny bouquet of white daisies clutched in her hands. Elsa, then Anna. followed Ingrid down the stairs. Killian strained his eyes for Emma. She wouldn’t be escorted. She had said it was unnecessary, and she wanted Liam to be Killian’s best man. 

Then, suddenly, there she was, and the music changed. She seemed to float down the stairs like a vision, her dress trailing the ground, her bare shoulders glowing under the lights, and her golden hair in a loose braid that draped over her shoulder. Her hair was threaded with baby’s breath and Queen Anne’s lace, and she clutched a simple bouquet of white roses tied with a white satin ribbon. Her eyes were searching the crowded room, but she didn’t seem to be able to see him. 

Then, suddenly, at the bottom of the stairs, she faltered. She reached out one hand to grip the banister tightly. Her skin went suddenly pale. She seemed to be staring at something no one could see. 

What Killian couldn’t see, what no one could see, was the man at the bottom of the stairs, leaning on his cane. Only Emma could see him. Her breaths became shallow, and she suddenly felt dizzy. Panic gripped her heart. 

“You want to run,” Rumplestiltskin told her, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “You don’t want to get married at 17. You don’t have to. Just turn around and go back upstairs.”

Emma began to shake. What was she doing? He was right! She was too young to get married! Why was she getting married again? Who was she marrying? Something wasn’t right. This man made sense - she should just run back upstairs. 

“Emma?” 

Rumplestiltskin jerked his head towards the sound of the young man’s voice. The boy didn’t see him, of course. His spell had seen to that. But why was there such strong magic emanating from the lad? Rumple recoiled, feeling a sudden, sharp, physical pain. The shirt! The stupid boy was wearing the shirt Emma had made with no needle or seam. The wretched shirt that solved the first riddle. No one could see it; he wore it beneath his shirt and tie. The boy must be sweating in the heavy felt, too. What had possessed him to don the thing? Curse him! Rumple stumbled backwards, the magic of true love overpowering him. He turned and ran, his glamor spell starting to wane, and his skin burning. He almost fell down the steps, but when he reached the sidewalk he turned and steadied himself, smoothing down the front of his suit coat. 

“No matter,” he snarled up at the house and the people inside. “I may not be able to touch you yet, but I will, mark my words, I will, and soon!”

Inside, the sound of Killian’s voice had broken the spell that had held Emma frozen at the bottom of the stairs. She looked down into Killian’s gentle smile and sparkling blue eyes, and every doubt and bit of confusion fled. He held out his hand.

“Don’t be afraid, Emma,” he told her softly, “we’ll walk the aisle together.”

She took his hand and descended the last few steps. She tucked her arm into his and beamed up at him. 

“Why would I be afraid?” she asked him, and she would never remember the strange man at the bottom of the stairs. 

***************************************************************

Emma giggled as Killian carried her over the threshold of the house they would share, at least as long as the professor who owned it was on sabbatical. Killian set her down, brushed her lips with a kiss, then stepped forward, his arms spread wide.

“So, what do you think?”

Emma stepped slowly into the room, taking in the small foyer and the modest living room to the left. To the right was a stairwell, and down a short hall in front of her was a small eat-in kitchen. It was a narrow, two story Victorian, even older than the home she grew up in with Ingrid. Emma wrapped her arms around the post of the stairway banister and looked up at the decorative stain glass panel above the front door which was so common in Victorian homes. It cast shafts of colored light onto the flowered wallpaper. 

“It’s not very big, I know,” Killian told her, “but the man who owns it is a bachelor, after all. The upstairs is better, though. He renovated it to just one huge master suite with a really modern bathroom. It’s got a double shower!”

Emma caught his gaze at that, and a teasing smile lifted her lips. “Really?”

Killian swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. He’d never heard that one word sound so laden with sensual promise. Emma bit her lower lip as she regarded him, still draped across the banister. 

“I could . . .” he stuttered, “give you a tour. Of the house, I mean.”

Emma grinned slyly, then gazed up the stairs. “I only want to see the bedroom.”

Killian swallowed again, “Oh - okay.”

Emma stepped closer and took his hand. She said nothing, just gazed at him in a way that took his breath away. He took the stairs, leading her by the hand, every nerve in his body on high alert. 

The stairs led them straight into the master suite, with no door separating the two. At the back of the room was a sitting area surrounded by built-in bookshelves. A TV was mounted on the wall so it could be seen from either the sofa, rocking chair, or bed. 

The bed. It was a queen size, four-poster bed situated in front of a beautiful round window of colored glass. It dominated the room, or at least it seemed to right now. Emma walked to it slowly, running her hands along the quilt that lay across it. When Ingrid had seen the house, she said the quilt was another sign that fate meant them to be together. The pattern of interlocking circles was called a wedding ring quilt. 

Emma wrapped her arms around one of the bedposts, just like she had the banister downstairs, and looked at him shyly. Two spots of color tinted her cheeks. Killian scratched behind his ear and gestured to the door to his left. 

“Do you, uh, want to see the bathroom?”

“Killian,” Emma said gently, “why are you so nervous?”

He was able to laugh, just a bit, at her words, but he didn’t know what to say. Emma took one step forward, took him by the hand and pulled him closer. To her and to the bed. She ran both hands up the front of his shirt and began to undo the buttons. His heart threatened to beat right out of his chest. 

Suddenly, Emma paused. “What’s under your shirt?”

“The one you made. To solve the first riddle.”

Emma laughed as she worked off his tie and undid the rest of his buttons. “Oh my God, you must have been burning up!”

“You have no idea!” He laughed too and peeled the scratchy, insanely hot shirt up and over his head. He sighed in relief as he tossed it aside, then ran his hand through his sweaty hair. He caught Emma staring at him, her cheeks now bright red. He wondered if she would get nervous now, but instead, she turned her back to him. 

“Unzip me?”

Her back was almost completely bare already in her halter dress. The zipper didn’t start until her lower back. He could scarcely breathe as he slid it down, revealing her lacy underwear. 

“And untie the halter?” Emma’s voice was thick, and he was thankful he wasn’t the only one obviously shaken by desire.

Killian did as she asked, letting his fingers dance along her spine after he finished. Emma sucked in a sudden breath at his touch. He stepped closer, encircling her waist and pressing his chest to her back. Still holding the front of her dress to her chest, Emma leaned back into him, and he trailed kisses along her neck. 

“Are you even wearing a bra?” he asked against her skin.

Emma turned to face him, still holding her dress up. “It’s hard to wear a bra when it’s a halter,” she said, then she let go of the dress, and it fell with a soft rustling sound at her feet. 

For a few heated moments, he took her in, glorious in nothing but a pair of white lace panties. Then he surged forward, pressing her bare breasts against him and devouring her mouth with deep kisses. Emma moaned as he maneuvered her to the bed, and her hands fumbled with the zipper of his pants. 

After kicking aside his pants, he covered Emma with his body, nothing between them but that tiny scrap of lace. His hands roamed, as he sucked on her neck, and Emma panted as she grasped his back. He pulled back for a moment, tenderly cupping her cheek. 

“You asked why I was so nervous.”

“Mhm,” Emma replied, her lips pressed together, and her eyes wide.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, his hand drifting down to caress her breasts. 

“A little,” she whispered. 

“Me too,” he confessed, “because I don’t want to hurt you.”

Emma pressed her hands to his cheeks. “I know you would never hurt me.”

He ran his thumb along the waistband of her panties, and she shuddered, her eyes fluttering shut. 

“I don’t want you to be scared,” he whispered hoarsely.

Her eyes opened and held his as she lifted her hips and guided his hands.

“Do I look scared to you?”

**************************************************************

The window above the bed scattered beams of light in various shades across the quilt that covered Emma and Killian. They were both still naked, and Emma was tucked against him, running her hands through his chest hair. He ran his hands along her bare arm and kept brushing kisses to her forehead. 

Emma let out a contented sight, “That was amazing. I want to do it again and again and again.”

Killian chuckled. “I’m so relieved to hear you say that. I was so worried, I even asked Liam for advice.”

Emma twisted so she could look into his face. “You talked to Liam about us having sex?” she yelped. 

“Not like that, just . . . I wanted to be sure I was sensitive to what you’ve been through. He understood that and was really helpful. I read that some guys are really rushed and insensitive without meaning to be when it’s their first time, and I didn’t want to do anything stupid.”

Emma nodded, then a slow grin spread across her face. “Well, whatever he told you, I need to send him a thank you card, because . . . wow!”

Killian laughed. “Now, that would be awkward.”

Emma suddenly grew quiet, and her hand stilled in its exploration of his chest. 

“Emma?” he asked tentatively.

She sighed and rolled over next to him on her back. For her to lie there next to him, her breasts uncovered, made him feel so honored to receive that vulnerability. Still, something told him she was insecure about something.

“Did I disappoint you, though?” she asked.

Killian rolled closer to her as he exclaimed, “What? Why would you ask that?”

“Well, I doubt you imagined a woman with this kind of figure for your first time.” She ran her hand over her baby bump, which still wasn’t incredibly noticeable, to be honest. 

“Emma,” he said softly, turning her chin to face him, “you are the most beautiful, exquisite thing I have ever seen in my life. I thought I was going to internally combust for a moment when your dress hit the floor.”

Emma chuckled at that, but he could still see the insecurity in her eyes. He decided to show her instead. He gently ran his hand down the length of her body, stopping at her rounded abdomen. He caressed it gently, then leaned down and placed a lingering kiss right beside her belly button. To his surprise, he felt a small thump in response. 

Emma gasped, and Killian’s head snapped up. “Did he just -”

“Yes,” Emma laughed, “he just kicked you.”

Killian lowered his lips again to Emma’s belly. “Hello, little one,” he said, “it’s me, your daddy.”

He kissed Emma’s belly button again, and Emma dug her fingers into his hair. When he looked back up at her, tears were shining in her eyes. He pushed himself up and kissed her, gently at first, and then with more passion. Emma broke the kiss, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Didn’t you say something about a double shower?”

Before he knew it, she was out of the bed and darting to the bathroom door. With a growl, he jumped up and chased after her. 

[bt-tarot]

✨Welcome✨

My name is Ozzy (yes, like Ozzy Osbourne 🦇)

I am a card reader and astrologer. I’ve been studying for a few years now and I made this blog ages ago but I never used it (until now).

⋆˚✿˖°M a s t e r l i s t s⋆˚✿˖°

Paid readings ཐི⋆ཋྀ Ko-fi

What can I ask about?

Anything related to tarot, oracle and astrology for educational purposes. How to learn, meaning of cards, current planetary positions, my personal thoughts on astrological aspects and so on.

Celebrities. Individual tarot readings, group tarot readings, group dynamics (both with tarot or astrology). I think I connect better with the ones I listen/see the most: kpop idols.

Pick a card ideas

Collective readings

Collective astrological analysis and observations

Personal opinions on x or y subject.

What can't I ask about?

Any questions that might be offensive or come from a place of personal hate or dislike for a group, band, artist or community.

Any questions that insult (even in a subtle way) a group, band, artist or community. Have empathy, especially for female and queer artists, istg. I’ve received questions that make me want to throw some punches but this is a place of peace and respect and I have to BREATHE DEEPLY.

Questions regarding underage idols or underage celebrities.

Questions about legal procedures. I was thinking about doing them but I got the spiritual advice to not do it. I don’t think it would be good to read that kind of energy, especially since anything could change during the investigation process. That’s a job that is not mine to do.

Any questions I feel uncomfortable answering in the moment. If the energy is not right, I’m not pushing. I might try to answer it later (hours, days), but ultimately if I don’t have a good feeling I won’t answer and I’ll let you know.

Any questions the energy won’t like to answer. If I shuffle and shuffle and shuffle and nothing comes out, if the cards don’t show a clear answer, if I write something and it gets erased, if I feel a weird energy from the reading, if the spirit guides/energies/forces/God tell me not to post, then I won’t answer. And again, I’ll let you know if that happens.

Repeating questions. Unless a fair amount of time happened between them, but otherwise I don’t think I would get a different answer. If you’re curious about the questions I’m working on to avoid repeating, there’s a in the making (queue) section in the masterlist.

Questions I find inappropriate or too personal. It’s not my place as a fan, neither as a tarot reader, to feed rumors, speculations or any kind of conspiracy. It’s never my intention to create gossip or conflict and every reading I do comes from a place of respect for the spirits, the people involved, the consultant and the craft. Remember I’m reading energies and that can be tricky. Take everything with a grain of salt.

+18 questions

‼️IMPORTANT NOTE‼️

I want to clarify that this blog is intended to be a SAFE SPACE for everyone. All fandoms allowed. Because of this, I will take the right to not answer any questions that might be offensive to any group, fandom, artist, person or community.

I want to keep working with a kind energy and build a respectful community. If this is an inconvenience to you, then I’m not the tarot reader you’re looking for. Be nice.

🦇Disclaimer🦇

I intend to practice tarot readings and astrology in this account for entertainment purposes. If I take a little time to answer a question it’s because I want to make the readings with the best energy as possible and I have to take breaks. But you’re definitely getting an answer, don’t worry.

Remember nothing is written on stone.

If something doesn’t resonate or seems inaccurate, remember the energy shifts with every decision we make and depends on many external variables. Sometimes the message could be intended for someone else or could fit in another moment of your life that our conscious mind don’t have access to, and it’s totally fine.

If you want any private readings, I can offer, but readings never substitutes professional help. I can give advice from what I see in the cards and planets and channel messages, but I always recommend consulting a professional.

Let’s live our lives to the fullest and take breaks from this kind of readings from time to time, don’t forget to take care of yourself and stay aware of your surroundings♥️

[mossadspypigeon]

Is that anon talking about my anon message? I'm not sure who they're referring to but to clarify I used "blacks" once in my anon message because i was pretty much directly quoting a white supremacist blog I encountered I'm actually black myself if that wasn't already obvious (I thought it was as l used "us" when referring to black people) English is my first language and I know it's often used as derogatory which is why I included it because I said those blogs had upset me a lot and was kind of trying to express why without using full on slurs because i genuinely hate them as I assumed your (antisemitic) anons were from English speaking countries also I don’t think I even defended or mentioned Israelis in my message maybe they thought I was because i mentioned how black maids are often left to die when there are airstrikes in Arab countries but I actually wasn’t referring to I/p exclusively this has happened in many Arab countries to my knowledge and Israel isn’t always involved in these scenarios also I have nothing against Israelis I don’t support or tolerate antisemitism and I’m not an “antizionist” I’m just stating that I’m pretty sure I didn’t even mention Israel or Israelis in my message I have nothing against Arabs either but I mean what I said is still a fact

(I know that it's easy for someone to make that mistake though if they didn't know it's quite often used in a derogatory way when referring to black people in English speaking countries and I wouldn't hold it against them)

noooo they’re talking about someone who reblogged one of the posts and used the term, so not you! they assumed the person was israeli 😂

it was very obvious to me! 💙

i’ve been explaining in dms why that term is derogatory in america, because elsewhere, especially in other languages, the history is VERY different and it isn’t derogatory at all. even in some parts of america, it isn’t known. it should be.

a lot of this is americans assuming american culture and society is universal. it’s absolutely valid to be upset seeing that written out, but all of these anons are here in bad faith lmao and arguing neo nazi propaganda while telling us what’s antisemitic and using actual slurs themselves. it’s wild.

i really appreciated your message and the context you laid out. no worries at all 💙 thank you for the follow up too! you gave really great examples of tumblr’s negligence with slur usage. also i’m sorry you even saw that shit, it’s disgusting.

[sophie-savvy]

I am interested in hearing your take on heartstopper’s aroace rep!

Aw thanks for the ask! <3

I wanna clarify before I say anything too negative that I really don’t hate heartstopper as a show, I like how it deals with mental health conversations and gives a wide range of representation, and I’m not trying to judge anyone that does find joy in it or see themselves in Isaac’s character.

But for me, the rep in season two and three felt a bit immature? Not exactly the right word, but I still can’t find the one I’m looking for. I just finished season three today, and couldn’t help but notice that in so many of the scenes involving Isaac’s aromanticism and asexuality, he seemed to use it as almost an accusation against his friends. Specifically with the scene when they’re at the aquarium and someone goes “what if the fish were gay haha” and he says something like “well what if the fish didn’t like anyone and didn’t want to hear about their friends’ magical romantic relationships anymore?”. To me this just feels really rude and self-centered, even understanding the point he’s trying to make (Elle and Tao being too dependent on each other).

The way this scene is written (and the way everyone apologizes to him immediately afterwards), he doesn’t come across as a concerned friend or someone trying to communicate his feelings, it just feels like he’s taking his loneliness and insecurities out on his friends rather than having a conversation about how he’s feeling. I think this definitely could’ve happened at the movie night, but instead Isaac just left without saying anything.

These insecurities are valid, especially when you’re young and trying to figure yourself out. I’ve been in the same position as Isaac and felt the same kind of things! And I think younger me would be really validated by Isaac’s character. But if you’re not able to move past that and communicate with your friends about how you’re feeling and how they’re making you feel, then you can’t blame that on them. People in romantic relationships will sometimes spend more time with their partners than their friends, and this isn’t inherently bad. It’s only unhealthy when it gets to the point of dependency, which is when you step in (respectfully! privately!) and have a conversation with them.

A lot of people are talking about how they felt validated by his friends apologizing to him after this scene, but I just can’t see why they were supposed to apologize for something that 1) isn’t their fault and 2) Isaac never communicated.

Sorry if this sounds really aggressive or anything, genuinely don’t mean to be! Totally understand everyone has a different perspective, but there’s my 2 cents as an aroace person :)

[taempteng]

So, I finally finished 2ha.

I... have some thoughts.

Let's talk!

【 Story Review 】 The Husky & His White Cat Shizun

I started this story on the 30th of May through the manhua. When I caught up to the latest release, I switched to the novel. I binged the novel day and night, until finally ending the story on the 12th of June.

I want to clarify that I’ve only finished the main 311 chapters. I haven’t read the extra 39 chapters.

This review will only discuss my thoughts on the main story. I'll decide whether to talk about the extra chapters when I finish those in the future.

With that said, what is 2ha?

2ha is short for Dumb Husky and his White Cat Shizun. It came from the Mandarin title 《二哈和他的白猫师尊》 where 二哈 literally translates to “2 ha(s)”. It’s written by 肉包不吃肉 or “Meatbun Doesn’t Eat Meat”.

What’s the story about?

Well, it follows a man named Mo Ran. He’s a regressor and in his first life, he was the 踏仙君 or Celestial-Trampling Emperor. He was at the peak of the Cultivation World, a tyrant who ascended to godhood. However, at the age of 32, he poisoned himself and died.

But then, he wakes up! And he’s back to 16 years ago, before his life went to shit! The guy he likes is still alive, so are his sect members-

Oh, and his Shizun isn’t dead anymore, he supposed.

Either way, he swore to turn his fate around, ensure his crush doesn’t die in this life, and get back at everyone who had wronged him in his first life! Especially that darn Shizun who he hates the most!

Now that you know what the story is about, what is the story like?

2ha has your blueprint regression story beginning. Mo Ran dies bitterly in his first life, regresses, and swears to annihilate all his adversaries while aiming for a better future. That better future being ensuring his crush stays alive.

You must think that, because of the premise, Mo Ran will use the knowledge of his past life to team up with characters that can help with his goal, have intense scheming face-offs against his adversaries, and eventually find a way to overcome his crush’s death. Right?

Well, you would be wrong!

You see, the events in the second timeline unfurled much differently than the first. And when I said “differently”, I don’t mean “the main character did this, so the other characters did that”. No, I meant “the main character didn’t get to move an inch before something completely sidetracks”.

Usually in regression stories, the main character will narrate what happened in the first timeline and tell the audience how they will counter the events in this new life. In 2ha however, despite being told by Mo Ran about the events of the first timeline, what ended up happening in the current life was straight up different. So, Mo Ran was unprepared and had to deal with the situation differently.

It’s definitely a refresher to see Mo Ran being flustered by the change of events, especially when he’s not written to be a masterclass schemer. He’s not shounen-MC-dumb, but he’s clearly not Sherlock-Holmes-genius. It’s a good balance between being thrown off guard by the unfamiliar situation while also trying to adapt to the new scenario.

So if you had been put off by the idea of a stereotypical regression story, you can rest assured that 2ha subverts this trope. It’s packed with interesting twists and dramatic turns, while displaying compelling characters and rewarding developments. It’s a story that keeps you on the edge of your seat and always wanting to turn to the next chapter!

Since finishing the story, what did I think of the ending?

Obviously, as the finale, the final arc had to be the most dramatic. Many things happened that honestly had me restless and fearful. With how the plot was progressing, I thought the ending would be a downer.

By the final chapter, all I felt was peace and calm. Not the kind of “and they lived happily ever after”, but more of a “and everyone moved on with their lives”. It’s the kind of feeling when a disaster happened, but you got away with your life, so despite the depression, you still found a way to pick yourself up again and overcome the difficulty.

The final arc was one heck of a rollercoaster ride, but the ending was sweet enough that it makes you glad that everyone could live as happily as possible. In a way, it’s bittersweet, in that the bitter memories will now only bring a sweet fondness of bygone past and a hopeful future.

So for readers who don’t like sad/bad endings or open/ambiguous endings, you don’t have to worry as everyone in the story (or at least the important characters) gets some form of closure.

Overall, what are my thoughts on 2ha?

I personally think the story is amazing. It’s a long story, and there’s a lot of drama and angst. However, reaching the end after all the turmoil and agony, I think it’s worth the arduous read and late night binging.

For me, even if some characters are unbearable at the beginning or some times, they’re still ultimately interesting and endearing. Even with the characters I despise, I can understand why they act the way they do. I don’t like them and I certainly don’t suddenly like them just because they’re sympathetic, but the characters are distinct, convincing and not one-dimensional.

The plot progression is exciting but not spontaneous. Every event happened for a reason, and you won’t feel as if something occurred for the shock value. As the story progresses, the puzzle pieces will piece themselves, leaving you wide-eyed with realisation.

The story isn’t fast-paced, but it isn’t draggy either. It dwells on emotional scenes to bring out the rawest feelings, making you explore the minds of the characters. It also concludes each chapter with a hook, resolving one scene while making you curious for the next.

It is a story that captivates your attention while squeezing your heart where it hurts. Definitely a must-read if you’re an angst or drama lover! The ending is worth all the pain and anguish.

What is the moral of the story?

Some common themes I noticed in 2ha include loneliness, anger and resentment, and karma and revenge. There may be other themes, but these are the most prominent ones.

I’ll explore these themes more thoroughly in the future. For now, I want to talk about what we can take away from this story.

I think this line by Xue Meng in the final chapter perfectly encapsulates the overarching message of 2ha.

I’d love to discuss how this line summarises the lesson in the story, but that’ll require me to spoil a lot of important plot points. So instead, I’ll leave this conversation for another day. Now, we’ll move on to the final part of this review!

Any last words for anyone who wants to pick up 2ha?

A fair warning before you begin: You will hate Mo Ran at the start. His attitude towards Chu Wanning, his master and endgame, was very frustrating. Although there were sweet moments, the way he went straight for Shi Mei when he comes into view will probably make you tear your hair out.

Of course, it gets better as the story progresses, but if you don’t like seeing one side of the couple mistreating and misunderstanding the other side, then this story is not for you.

Not to mention, there are triggering themes discussed such as SA and cannibalism. If these topics make you uncomfortable, proceed with caution or reconsider starting the story.

2ha also touched upon subjects like misogyny, dehumanisation, hate campaigns — just a lot of heavy topics that may be distressing if you’re trying to read for fun and not to be reminded of reality.

With all that said, if you can handle a good dose of heartache, I highly recommend this story! It’s amazingly written (in my opinion) with lovable characters and an intriguing plot. I give 2ha 5 stars!

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be reading those extra chapters!

[ladamedusoif]

It might be the cold meds talking, but I feel like I need to have a ramble about writing - partly because I’ve seen a few “you write for YOU and whatever you WANT” posts over the last few days, some of which have been spot on and some not so much.

To clarify: this post isn’t about me. Or at least, it’s MOSTLY not about me. It’s just some observations about fic.

This is a lovely and important message. Ultimately, we do all write for ourselves. Of course we do.

But saying “write for you and only for you!” is easier when you’re someone who routinely gets hundreds of notes on a fic within the first couple of hours. Or when you’ve got a massive audience already. Or when you write something that seems to get more attention than anything else in terms of popular characters and tropes (ahem Joel age gap smut ahem).

Trends come and go in literature of all kinds, whether properly published works or fics. That’s par for the course.

But the problem is when it feels like only a certain kind of story gets any attention. When stories with real heart and love and care and feeling seem to be routinely ignored because they don’t fit the bill: they’re slow burns, they don’t involve popular tropes, but they’re proper stories that could exist without any connection to the fandom they’ve been written for.

And, worse, when the people writing those stories start to feel deeply disheartened and as if it’s just not worth it.

We talk a lot about anon hate (spoiler: don’t do it) and nine times out of ten that seems to be based on the idea of people writing potentially triggering or taboo topics saying they’ve received “hate”. (Sometimes this is actual hate and sometimes it’s genuine, considerate questioning around warnings etc.)

Thing is: the people writing the ‘unpopular’ stories get hate - genuine, real, nasty hate - too. This post isn’t really about me, but as an example: I’ve not turned on anon asks in months, because of the last shitfest. And I’m not alone, because I know what people have had sent into their inbox in response to the most inoffensive, sweet stories. It baffles me.

All this is to say - I wish people would be a little bit more open in what they want to read, and would recognise that “anon hate” isn’t just about puritanical prudes trying to “tell people what to write” as seems to be the general assumption. People keep trying to put a bit more diversity out there in the fic buffet, to write loving and carefully crafted stories, and for all the “write it for you” posts it still feels like it doesn’t matter. Like no one wants it. And that’s when writers start to think they’re awful, their ideas are bad, their style is weak.

Worse? They get shitty, mean-spirited asks and comments. (Even if it’s not “hate”. I’m still baffled by the people who say they couldn’t finish a one-shot of mine because there wasn’t a significant age gap between the Reader and the male character… but I don’t think that’s strictly hate, as such. Dispiriting, though.)

And what happens then? They stop writing. The stories cease. And the fic buffet becomes more and more one-note, more and more dictated by prevailing winds and a particular kind of purple prose style. And the readers - who might have found those stories if more people had engaged with them and reposted and shared them - wonder why no one seems to write for them.

A while back I wrote a tag that was something like “there’s room for everything”. Unfortunately, that “everything” remains a little limited, at least in terms of what actually seems to get picked up and gain traction. And “there’s room for everything” doesn’t mean that all writers are above reproach, either.

Try something new, people. Give a soft story a go. Who knows, you might like it.

[yoongleboonglepie]

is the main character written as bipolar? confused bc it’s never explicitly clarified - unless i’ve missed something - but you describe some of the shifts in her mood/actions as depressive and manic episodes which are mainly a bipolar thing

Okay so yes!

Reader is technically written with bipolar type 2 characteristics because parts of myself really seep into her character (hi, I'm bipolar type 2 haha).

I also figured it'd play well into how her mother uses her emotional range against her and speaks of it negatively, because often times people look at being bipolar as something that immediately negates anything "good" you're capable of, or to dismiss their feelings/actions as ungrounded (and I've definitely experienced this in my personal life ooff).

Okay, very long personal author ramble beneath the cut (sorry y'all, my own real life Mariah pissed me off real bad today and I'm at the ready to drone on and on about this story and the characters):

It was a deliberate choice I made because personally I feel like a LOT of reader inserts make the reader very demure, very timid/calm, non confrontational etc. Whereas I never really fit into those archetypes? And I'm not hating those stories-those are also valid ways to be! I just really wanted to push against some of the unspoken boxes that are placed around fanfiction spaces, and if that means I get less attention, then so be it! I'm glad with the small group I have 🥰It all comes down to writing what I wanted to read and couldn't really find all that often, and I hope I can help even just a few other readers find that too.

And I don't claim to do this perfectly myself - really, I can only write what I know and have experienced best, just like other authors will. I do however, try really hard to avoid at the bare minimum to keep major physical barriers to stories out: like skin tone, I avoid talking about touching or messing with hair, I avoid super specific body size relations, etc. I occasionally make some physical notes, but I try to keep them pretty broad and open to the interpretation of the reader.

Now I'm just rambling here lol (dw I'm not mad at this question at ALL-quite the opposite- I love it, I'm just very passionate about this and you caught me on a day that I need a good rant to the void).

I like to explore diverse character types (like for example, Jungkook is actually written as autistic/neurodivergent, and there are other disabled characters in the story that haven't gotten their chance to shine yet). I like to base a lot of them on people in my own life and not just ideas! Like A LOT of the family and side characters are based on people I've met or had come in and out of my life, or issues that are near and dear to my heart and my own found family.

I've never really felt the need to specifically state or label these things, because I feel like it might make it feel too barred off to others. But if asked, I'm not afraid to say "Pechsträhne Jungkook is Autistic!" Or "Reader is bipolar 2/ neurodivergent in other ways, and queer!" (and this could lead me into a whole other rant about how all OT7 x R stories are inherently queer and no one wants to say it because of the fear of what accepting that might mean, but I will spare you all that one).

With this and my other fanfictions, I wanted to challenge myself to write things that scared me to post; mostly in the sense of kind of polarizing for people who are comfortable, and making space for stories that show parts of myself or others that mayhaps haven't always been depicted in fanfiction. And while I know that brings its own conundrums of here will be others that don't fit perfectly into this story, but I think the conversation needs to be less about "fitting" and more about being able to relate to and find oneself in characters that aren't just like them- specifically if they've had the privilege of always being seen or written about. Thus, it needs to be more about telling more stories from more perspectives because there is space for everyone!

To cut myself off before I write a novel, I will finish here with a quote from Virginia Woolf that keeps me inspired when writing Pechsträhne:

"So as long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only hours, nobody can say." - A Room of One's Own, An essay On Women and Fiction.

Okay, so much love to you and thank you for letting me info dump ~Delyn <3

[psihawaii]

i know nothing about mashup week but i do wanna hear ur thoughts on trans scott

first of all: thank you for indulging me!!

second of all: obligatory LISTEN/READ MASHUP WEEK: MEGAMIX!! ill probably make a separate propaganda post anyway but plsss. mashup tournament that scott won three years ago that he now has to host and interview every1 and i like how he’s written better than most collabs (where hes not just. himself obviously.) write him. host says the tournament is a lot more like wii sports resort now and doesnt elaborate.

third of all: ooooooooookay so. This really got away from me im gonna put the rest under a readmore.

i’m gonna refer to them w/ they/them just for simplicity, but let the record show i don’t think they care that much either way/i switch up pronouns whenever i talk abt stw AHDHDJ (my main hc for a while was no pronouns scott just bc of how the descriptions are written hahahahahaha get itttttttttt)

i’ve Alwaysssss thought scott (the character obvi. do i have to keep clarifying that here too, im always gonna be referring to the character in this postSHDJDJ) was trans ever. since i joined the fandom in late 2021. Partly because borderline forever reminds me a lot of how i realized i was nonbinary (realizing somethings wrong and then course correcting by just… doing the opposite and wondering why that couldnt possibly be the solution.) but mostly because borderline forever is just Like That. . But more on that later

OUTSIDE OF THAT so much of how they act is sosososo deeply trans to me, or at the very least very egg-like and in denial deeply. THE THING that got me deep into stw initially was gifts of gaming because what the fuck man. scott’s very public breakdown because they feel extremely alienated from their peers and that this isn’t an isolated incident!!!!!! (finding other people unrelatable that is (and that’s probably also an autism and/or aroace thing but it can be all of those at once. Smile.) like so often is scott self deprecating abt how nobody cares abt them or their interests or how desperate they are for attention. dude.)

and like. okay so i made an entire nonbinary dysphoria comp already but there are so many. weird throwaway jokes. that aren’t… you know directly about them being trans/dysphoric but about how they hate facial hair or their voice or hated that they couldn’t have ‘girl toys’ growing up or that they shower fully clothed or that they’ll just. roleplay as a girl.

(and i was gonna have a whole bit about… i think you could make some kind of point about how scott ‘roleplays’ as a girl in specifically romantic/flirting contexts (tinder + speed dating) and how that could play jnto their dysphoria, but i also do just think they’re aroace. but there’s something there)

and no matter the intention of the jokes they’re still like. canon. (and i was gonna do a whole thing abt how scott the woz (the show) treats continuity basically being that. jokes + ‘throwaway lines’ establish canon things because they keep being brought back, and that lore is (with few exceptions) consistent. it’s fun. and meaning that these things are (assumedly) things scott thinks/does/how they act even off screen.)

and also i guess if im gonna talk abt trans scott i could At Least dedicate an entire paragraph to borderline forever because holy shit man. Before i rewatched a bunch of episodes this year, i of course had it in my head that borderline forever was totally trans coded but i sorta reasoned that that was my own headcanon clouding my perception and that it wouldnt be that blatant (<in quotes because im sure The Man Himself didnt intend for it to be read this way, but its fun to interpret it as such) but no it really is.

what do u mean theres been an unseen force in your life that’s always been there but you hadn’t noticed until you experienced internalized transphobia talked about something tangentially related, that’s now preventing you from living your life and doing the things you want to do. That isn’t directly harming you, and that other people can’t notice so they dismiss you. What do u mean.

Closing in is literally a song about how they can’t believe they’ve been living their life like this and how they feel like they’re suffocating from the idea of continuing to live like this. They saw the border glow. If you will (sorry.)

The ending of borderline forever is pretty… its… well i guess for me to really have definitive thoughts on it i would have to decide on what i think the allegory is because scott taking the border back serves different purposes for different ones, good and bad. In terms of the trans allegory, I initially considered that it was like him. Accepting transness as part of themselves and learning to live with it and move on from that (effectively transitioning just not. Outwardly (?)). Until my boyfriend (forced to watch every scott the woz lore episode for (for the most part) the first time with me) pointed out n. No it kinda just seems like they can’t imagine themselves as any different/better and thinks This Is As Good As It Gets so they retreat back to their status quo. And like. Huh. Yeah. 100% it’s still affecting them negatively and they hate it but they’re ignoring it now they saved the world and they never have to succumb to the horror of being understood and perceived i mean no one else has to worry abt this ever again.

like… two years ago i wrote a fic about nonbinary scott called Abiura Di Me (it’s never getting finished, i was originally gonna do a little comic to end things off but it felt kind of ehh. the only way i’m finishing it is if i completely start over. which who knows.) and, despite not rlly having this interpretation at the time, i did want to kind of explore scott like that, thinking they’re ‘content’ with their life now and wondering why they still feel unhappy/unfulfilled.

In general scott feels like a character that’s so… rigid and strict with their identity/attributes of themselves in a way that, often, makes them miserable, or at the very least in a way that they’re self deprecating abt like i said b4. (i.e. their virginity, and how it oscillates something they take pride in vs. something that they’re ashamed of (b4 accepting it in barrel blast)(youtuber slash tumblr user prim m, in description of their barrel blast mashup did a rlly interesting lil. few sentences of analysis abt this in particular!!), but is, to them at least, a key part of who they are that they have to keep asserting + how they talk abt themselves liking video games and how, similarly it oscillates between smthn that brings them a lot of joy and again, smthn that they’re ashamed of thats another reason they feel isolated, but is nonetheless. Probably THE defining thing about scott.)

And while this^ feels like a general internalized transphobia thing, it’s probably THE reason i think they’re nonbinary specifically, although i fuck with transfem scott severely. I really like the idea of scott unburdening themselves from any kind of labels and kinda just being happy Existing, it’s essentially what they already want/think they already have just with less expectation put upon them to perform. You could say. Preventing themselves from being put into a box or. Or yknow… some kind of blue borde-[i am killed.]

But anyway to answer your question trans scott is my lifeblood i love them a lot. I like… half joke their egg has been fully cracked now bc of the bits they’re pulling now (mainly. Changing their name in same name, different game and. all of gamer products.) (and side note even though i can glean Transness from any1 of these jokes and that… in a lot of cases scott Is the butt of the joke in them they don’t rlly feel meanspirited most of the time. whether thats bc im in denial ro theres smthn to it thats any1s guess. Tee hee.) i think they’re figuring stuff out and how they want to be perceived and if this is really something they want for themselves (is, but going abt it weirdly/making a joke of it and not taking it seriously (again, goes w the whole self deprecating rigid identity thing!!)

I don’t think scott changes much upon transitioning. Even though i think in the stw universe hrt/gender affirming surgery does… pretty much whatever you want it to and none of what you don’t want (i’m going off the… one ama where he said smthn along the lines of the stw universe is a perfect bubble where nothing bad happens + being able to get treated for murder + how i think scott the real person would think that kinda stuff works AHDNDIJDDJ and also cus i think its funny) i dont think scott would Want to change much physically. But i really like the idea of them keeping dyed blue bits framing their face (get it.) + slightly longer hair. and boobs cause i think thats awesome. personality wise they’re exactly the same and still suck though. But w/o shame and i love them

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

Ok so it’s been awhile since I’ve finished dear, hello… — one of my fav fics I’ve written and am currently writing a sequel for — and I’ve always wanted to reveal my notes for it but there’s just… so many lmao. Long fics really just accumulate random notes everywhere like crazy and none of mine are coherent or pleasant to read. Eventually, I’ll actually organize them and explain my thought process, but for now, I’m gonna reveal Vi’s ORIGINAL letter that Cait wrote for her since hers was actually going to be revealed first until I changed my mind….. for suspense 🤭…….. and then rewrote it once the time to actually reveal came.  

It’s not crazy different but it’s different enough and, of course, stories change as we write so it didn’t feel too accurate anymore. Let’s compare and contrast with the newer letter and the letter it was inspired by in the original book 😫

LETTER FROM THE BOOKS FOR CONTINUED REFERENCE:

FIRST: THE ACTUAL LETTER USED

OK SO THIS IS THE ONE THAT WAS ACTUALLY USED. It drew a LOT more direct inspiration from the original letter in the books, which was my goal in writing it. The focus and theme of all the reasons Caitlyn SHOULD hate Vi is highlighted so much more and a lot more in your face. I think it’s pretty solid, maybe a little clunky and drawn out, but solid nonetheless. I do believe that in both version, Vi’s letter is the longest out of ALL of the letters, which is like….. Caitlyn was sniffing that copium really hard.

I took some of my fav lines from the original letter I wrote [thin line motif] and kinda threw it in here, so, again, it does make it read as clunky imo.

I really like my mentions of classic pieces of media because that’s a thing that pops up throughout the fic of Caitlyn trying to understand her own wants and needs as well as drawing out the wants and needs in media and comparing and contrasting. Cait’s whole arc was about accepting the whimsy and the fun and the ‘childish’, it was about letting go and appreciating the love letters for what they are, so the little added thing of not dismissing media that portrays that was pretty effective I think. Especially since it carries on, Caitlyn growing to hate them the more she experiences heartbreak, and even MORE after the worst of them all (VI!!!!)

OKAY SO THE ORIGINAL ONE I WROTE:

Just to clarify: Pink text means I’m unsure whether or not to include and will come back to it during editing.

Fics really do just grow a head of their own when giving the chance right? Because I wrote this one first for chapter… four or six (I think? I don’t remember lol) but decided to let it be the final letter revealed for the suspense and so when Caitlyn writes Vi her new letter, the readers get to directly experience the stark difference between the two. Once I got to the point of actually revealing Vi’s letter… so many things had changed. Caitlyn’s arc was so much more fleshed out (it was revealed in the last chapter so hopefully lmao), and her storylines with both Corina (EWWWWW) and Cassandra were wrapping up, so I had a much clearer vision when rewriting it in comparison to this.

This one also didn’t follow the theme of “why I’m supposed to hate you” as much, I don’t think. It was kind of all of the place and felt much too wordy and inaccurate after everything that had changed. BUT, I think the fluidity in this one is better because this is where I came up with the better lines that I feel I kinda just threw into the released version.

OVERALL CRITIQUE FOR BOTH OF THEM:

wayyyyy too overwritten. What I can appreciate about the letters in the book that this is based on is that you can TELL that the main character wrote them when she was young. I didn’t really take that into account when writing all the letters because I, of course, write a certain way with a specific tone in this fic. BUT, to counter that, Caitlyn was over-trained, if that makes sense? Her writing would never be super juvenile because of how she was raised, BUT AGAIN, she was still a melodramatic kid writing love letters!!!! I think I just used grown up Caitlyn’s voice in these letters too much without taking into account her age when writing, even if I did add a few silly vibes for fun.

at least for Vi’s, Caitlyn was over the whole firey fairy tale vibes once it got to her turn, so of course she would be more reserved and matter of a fact while writing Vi’s? But like… Jayce’s letter? I should’ve purposefully put spelling mistakes in it lmao.

I like that it’s pretty obvious in both versions that this is the last letter Caitlyn wrote. Vi breaking her heart was too much for her to take, so this was the end. Vi didn’t even get a greeting in the beginning, using a full name that feels foreign to even Vi herself, she only got a goodbye in the end.

COMPARING TO CAIT’S NEW AND IMPROVED LETTER SHE READ TO VI

SO RIGHT OFF THE BAT: “Hello Vi” (a kind greeting using Vi’s preferred name!!!) to “I hope this isn’t goodbye” AHH I LOVE THAT! Especially since the title of the fic starts with Hello and ends with Goodbye like YESSS, I ate that lil one thing!

Love the carried on theme of this letter and it ties a lot more directly to the actual og letter I used with the theme of picking out all the reasons why Caitlyn doesn’t hate Vi at all. Caitlyn finally accepting how down bad she is for this girl, like how down bad the main characters are in those movies and books she ‘hates’, is just golden. Writing Vi a love letter because she deserves it is just golden.

The whole finishing it off with a final “I love you” just feels so right. Before, Caitlyn hated how much she loved Vi and now she loves loving her!!!! Even if she didn’t get to say the words “I love you” cuz Vi wasn’t ready to hear them, I still think it’s a great way to wrap up the whole thing :)

I’m lowkey kind of insane about this fic so like a ton of rambling here lol but this is so fun!! More notes to come eventually. Hopefully. Probably some abandoned/failed plot line stuff. :) OK THATS IT

[suitsusboth]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

Tagged by @harnitbee 💜💜💜

1- How many works do you have on AO3?

currently six!

2- What's your total AO3 word count?

314,403 which is wild since i’ve only been doing this about a year and a half? i don’t think i wrote that much in college????

3- What fandoms do you write for?

Bridgerton 🐝 I’ve thought about writing for other fandoms in the past but nothing quite got a grip on me like Anthony and Kate 😌

4- What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. love came back to me (still stunned at the reception of this fic)

2. just go with it (my fun little one shot)

3. where the love light gleams (my baby 🩵)

4. can’t two people reconnect (basically an exercise in writing smut)

5. if only in my dreams (🥹 wholesome epilogue/christmas fic to where the love light gleams)

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

i do for the most part, mostly because i appreciate the time people take to write them as usually they’re very encouraging and i love to answer questions or clarify things if needed. anyone who’s commented on a fic of mine ilysm 🥹💜

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

i dont think i’ve got a fic with an angsty ending, i love a good old happily ever after, buuuut i’d say love came back to me was the angstiest fic over all (lmk if you disagree!)

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

mmmm a tough one because i end them all happily, but i think if only in my dreams and just go with it are the happiest over all

8- Do you get hate on fics?

luckily not really just the occasional odd comment that kinda leaves me scratching my head

9- Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes, well, trying to 😅  

10- Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

nah

11- Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of??

12- Have you ever had a fic translated?

not that I am aware of!

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

no, but i think it would be fun… i’m just slow at writing so I don’t know if that would pose an issue

14- What's your all-time favourite ship?

Kanthony, forever and always baaaaaby 💜 the power they have over me is insane 😌

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

the elopement au 🤪

16- What are your writing strengths?

ermm i’d say i don’t really have strengths it’s mostly a hot mess but maybe dialogue?? 😅

17- What are your writing weaknesses?

oh man…. my editor/beta reader will tell you spelling and grammar for SURE but probably also staying focused and motivated as well. if i’m tired of writing i think i don’t do the best i can so sections can suffer and then i’m too lazy to go back and fix it

18- Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

physically impossible for me as i have little to no other language skills (if you can you’re incredible!) i added some french to lcbtm but that was all google translate lol

19- First fandom you wrote for?

bridgerton 😉

20- Favorite fic you've written?

i can’t chose they’re all my babies 🥹

love came back to me i’m the proudest of because it’s my first fic i published and the longest and even though i took breaks i kept at it

where the love light gleams just holds a special part of my heart i love that cozy universe

just go with it was definitely the easiest and funnest to write though. i’m proud of the banter in that one tbh.

[torotornottorot]

Books read in 2023:

The secret life of bees (Jan 6) 4/5 (probably would have enjoyed it more when I was younger. Great overall but still the mammy stereotype. Don’t like it when poc women are portrayed as ~divine creatures~ we are just normal people and we just wanted to treated like normal people. Nothing more, nothing less. Too flowery and cliche at parts but still good overall.) 

I’m glad my mom died (Jan 15) 5/5 (funny and thrilling. Reading this would probably help a lot of people with toxic parents think through their own trauma) 

Evil Under the Sun (Jan 17) 4/5 (simple and entertaining. Not a masterwork of literature but satisfying nonetheless. A bit slow to get started but great overall) 

The hunting party (Feb 4) 4/5 (found hard to get into it/get invested because of unlikeable cast of characters but stil high rating for unexpected ending. I was bored a few times in the beginning and middle parts but it really picked up in the end and made up for it. Would make a great movie) 

Sparkling cyanide (audiobook) (Feb 20) 3/5 (good to listen to while doing other work around the house. Probably not worth it to take separate time out to read) 

Last bus to Woodstock (Feb 24) 3/5 (hated the main detective and how he went about the investigation eg. relying on instinct and chance discoveries. But the side characters were super interesting and the ending was unexpected. Would have liked it better if inspector Lewis was the main character. No decent female characters. Only wh*res or the "shrill wife." But the crime itself was interesting and I liked the writing style). 

And then there were none (audiobook) (Feb 26) 5/5 (Omg. I was in thrall throughout. My favorite Agatha Christie book I’ve read so far. I actually thought there had to be a supernatural explanation lol) 

The dark remains (feb 26) 3/5 (not bad. Just boring. Can tell it was written by a dude. Not one interesting character despite being set in the gang world. Very cliche type of noir) 

The Falls (Ian Rankin) (March 1) 4/5 (great buildup but disappointing payoff. Loved the concept of the quizmaster. Very likable the main detectives and very interesting plot. Sustains you throughout despite being so long. But yeah. Didn’t quite like the solution to the murder) 

Wire in the blood (March 22) 5/5 (excellent. Gory but excellent. What a plot!) 

The distant echo (March 30) 5/5 (omg. If someone asks me what’s your favorite crime fiction book I’d say this one! Very suspenseful and unpredictable loved it loved it loved it!!!!) 

The Guest List (April 13) 6/5 (this surpasses the distant echo. This actually made me feel things. The amount of gasps I gusped could have powered the state of Texas for a year. Absolutely loved it. ) 

East of Eden (May 15) 100/5 (what kind of genius do you have to be to write such a book?  

In Cold Blood 4/5 (May 30) maybe bc I already knew the story, I kinda had to force myself to finish this 

Macbeth 5/5 (June 14) iconic 

Northanger Abby by Val Mcdermid 4/5 (June 17) fun modern retelling. Expected a crime and twist but it was faithful to the original. Enjoyed reading. 

Gone girl 6/5 (June 24) omg her mind. Will definitely read more by her. Wish I hadn’t seen the movie before so I could have been fully surprised. Liked the ending. 

The Pearl (5/5) (July 3) not a page turner but a good depiction of reality. Very sad. 

Age of Vice 3/5 (July 7) great beginning but I didn’t like the ending. I think the author tried to put too many stories and perspectives in one. That whole bit of Sunil was unnecessary? It just slowed the story down at such a crusial moment. And Sunny’s backstory with Vicky too. I don’t think it was necessary to have an unbelievably tragic backstory for every character and he already had his deal with his dad. Some things are never clarified like what happened to his mom, his true relationship with Vicky. Why Ajay agreed. Ajay turns out of be such a loser in the end. Maybe it’s “realistic” but lots of things that happen in this book are not realistic so I don’t know why only the ending has to be realistic. I wish I could have followed Ajay’s journey to a good ending. 

Milk fed 2/5 (August 12) only read bc of booktok. Good seeds here and there. didn't realy like it.

The club (5/5) (august 19) excellent, gripping. A bit longer than it needed to be though. 

The grownup Gillian Flynn (4/5) (October 19) great short story. Great writing. So engaging. Perfect length for getting back into reading 

Emma by charlotte Brontë and another lady (5/5) (Nov 2) love. Mr. Ellin needs to be played by Simon Baker in a movie. 

A room of one’s own by Virginia Woolf (Nov 11) (1000/5). This has been on my to read list for ages. I see quotes from this everywhere and every time I’m astounded by how she just she gets it and knows exactly what to say to express it perfectly. The essay was everything I imagined it would be. Forever grateful to that Destiel fanfic for introducing me to this. 

Villette (4/5) (Dec 29) lovely 

Girl, interrupted (5/5) (Dec 31) made me ponder about a lot of things. Her youth was really kind of stolen from her. Made to freeze just like that painting. what is the right thing to do? What is helping and what is hurting? What does “crazy” even mean? I think I tend to be very judgemental about this kind of stuff. But this book made me realize that people are people even if you do not understand why they act a certain way. They feel the same as me.