#ignore the weird tag numbers there were originally 6

[imbellarosa]

Let’s Talk Calm-ly about Two Loves

OR: When you’re a grown man who writes stories for a living, you definitely wrote your own weird bedtime story, too. 

The TLDR here is that H has taken one specific listener around the globe, notably to Tokyo and Jamaica. He quotes an old Victorian Poet who was an awful human but who’s lasting legacy is the phrase “a love that dare not speak its name” which is - you guessed it - a reference to queer love. He also is super excited to spend what seems like the foreseeable future with this listener and has bought a little house with a garden of daisies with them and it’s very sweet and domestic. Anyways this is a wild time and it’s all under a cut because it’s...really a lot. 

Anyways I think the people I owe thank yous this times around to are @queenlokibeth​ who had to listen to me scream about this for a while, Astrid, who screamed with me when this came out, and “M” who convinced me to finally get to work in this fandom. And, of course, all of the lovely people tagged below who’s work I used to build my argument. 

1.) Who Wrote “Dream With Me”? 

Well, not H, or so the story goes. Two other people (Steve Cleverly and Sanj Sen) did! I mean, right, okay, for a while I was like...that seems like an odd choice for a man who didn’t want to hand Two Ghosts over to his own band because it seemed too personal. He wrote on every song in both albums’ he’s released thus far, because he seems to be passionate about telling the stories he wants to tell (even if he won’t tell you explicitly what they’re about). But for a while, I was totally going with the flow there, and the rest of this analysis would still stand: the writer of this story definitely referenced a poem by Lord Alfred Douglas and Harry’s own songs. 

However, I then read this fun quote from the Co-founder and CEO of Calm: 

“Well,” he said, “The the Harry Styles one is interesting because that came purely from Harry Styles himself...we took the approach of creating a sort of musical epic poem – he doesn’t sing, it’s spoken with poetry, but there’s a sort of musical sound bed to it and it’s pulling on things and themes that Harry’s fans really adore about him and associate with him. So his story was driven really by him – we really created a concept around him.” 

-  Chris Advansun, July 7th, 2020 via @hlupdate​

And I thought, hmmm. This does not sound like a project that he was not involved in creating. From this point on (July, 7th 2020), I began to think of it as a three way co-collaboration between him and the other two authors. But this confused me a bit, because there was largely a nonreaction from the fandom. I was waiting for an actual transcript, because I always fall asleep to these meditation stories, but it was being referenced to as some sort of Y/N fic, which was...honestly not what I expected, but also not implausible, thanks to the ~lovely~ image this man has had since the age of sixteen. But also, twitter seemed to be concerned by other things at the moment, and no one was analyzing the story. . 

In fact, I messaged a friend the day that this story dropped, because it had been kind of a shit show day on Twitter. Rumors were sort of flying about everyone and everything: had Liam shaved his head? Was he engaged? Had he and Maya broken up? Were Zayn and Gigi engaged? Had they broken up? Did Niall have a girlfriend? (this one was true lol). Were Elounor engaged? Were they pregnant? Had they broken up??? My personal fav was the bald Liam rumor, which he promptly put to rest in LP Act 1 by...having a huge mane of hair. 

So then I thought - huh. Why has today looked like this? I’m not saying that there aren’t days that twitter goes wild because of boredom, because there definitely is - the articles about secret meetings in Italy that are coming out this week (8/12/2020) are proof positive. So that definitely does happen, but it doesn’t usually happen on the days that there’s a lot of content. And maybe I’ve just been starved for content in this fandom, but I would consider a 40 minute video quite a bit of content. 

Then the transcript dropped. I’m using two as references - this one on Wattpad and also @carl-and-pearl ‘s version here (thank you so much for the transcript!!). We’re going to get into a more detailed description of what’s going on in the story, but the first thing I recognized immediately is that it was first person POV. I knew that going in, based on the number of Y/N jokes going around on twitter. Then I read it aloud, and I realized that it read like a letter. Like an experience specific to the writer and the reader. And while that’s not super uncommon to write about an experience from the author’s POV - I listen to a podcast called Nothing Much Happens: bedtime stories for adults which has a similar concept - I thought it was odd that they were trying to include both the author and the listener. I completely understood why the y/n jokes were pertinent. But at the same time, it felt like something had snagged in my mind - like a particularly annoying splinter. 

The conversations I was having around this story - completely based on the content, concept, and my own instinct - was that this story contained specific references to one person. I thought that it did read like a love letter, and that most identifying features would have been taken out, but the essence remained. Which, once I thought about it, was something that H excelled at doing. Think about Sunflower Vol 6 and Adore You and Canyon Moon and even Watermelon Sugar and Golden.  Ask yourself, What do I know about the person they are about? They have skin that browns, they have a secret, they have mesmerizing eyes, they’re willing to dance in the kitchen with him (to dancehall), they have a belly, they’ve been through hard times, they’re witty, they have an accent, and they have lips. I know - super specific right?

So the splinter grew into a thorn - what was I missing? And then - when I was looking for something completely different - I stumbled upon this old interview Harry did with Zach Sang and the Gang Show back in 2017.  For context, he was being asked about Sweet Creature. As you can imagine, it’s hard for people to believe he wrote such a beautiful love song when he hadn’t ever really had a long term relationship (two hearts in one home?? Who did you move in with, you can imagine them asking. When did you have time?). So what did he have to say about this?

"In my opinion,” he explained, “I think most songs are written for one listener. Maybe there's one thing in there that only they'll notice about them.... It's so much easier to say something in a song than it is to say it to someone and I think it's really amazing to be able to communicate through that and be able to wrap up everything that you want to say in three and a half minutes and say it in a song."

- HS, May 3 2017

By this time, please believe that I was screeching. Seeing this felt like he put into words the exact feeling I had about “Dream With Me”. It felt like a nod to someone that I didn’t know, which made the story hard to listen to, tbh. Although, I will say that when I did finally listen to it, it knocked me out and gave me odd dreams so. Once was enough for me haha! 

So my new operating theory is exactly what Advansun said: I think that H was the primary writer/the driving force behind the story. Because of the references I’m about to run through, because it feels like the way he tells stories, and because they admitted to him being more involved than they originally claimed. That’s going to be how I write the rest of the analysis - under the impression that H had a direct hand in the story that was being put forth. However, I think that the analysis itself would stand whether or not he wrote any of it. It would just be a more tenuous reflection of him than I believe it to be. 

2.) How Do I Love Thee? In Two Ways. 

Before I jump into the story, let’s talk a little about the poem that I want to compare it to: Two Loves, by Lord Alfred Douglas.  Let’s be clear this is not at all a defense of who Bosie was - he was a terrible person, particularly in his later years, when he’d converted to Catholicism and turned his back on his younger self, and his partner, Oscar Wilde. He was violently anti-Semitic, and turned his back on his own community. I want to get this out of the way because I very much believe that we should examine artists for who they are. That is, after all, what I am trying to do here. 

But his poem Two Loves has often been used - much to his disappointment, I’m sure - as an exploration of queer love in Victorian times. A line that I will be exploring more deeply in a second was in fact used against Oscar Wilde in his trail for indecency . He attempted - unsuccessfully - to explain it away, but it was too blatantly about their relationship for even the British Victorian society to ignore. I really, really recommend a read of this poem, because it is - despite it’s author - a good piece of work, which explores the themes of shame and love and longing between two men in that time. 

I’m going to start with my own background, as someone who’s analyzed fandoms before. I first came across this poem in the Sherlock fandom, with this analysis by @the-7-percent-solution​, when I was running in that fandom, and she explains the poem brilliantly in just a few lines. I’m going to take a little longer to run through it, but if you want a concise explanation and a brilliant meta, I encourage you to run to their blog and check it out. That fandom taught me most everything I know about catching symbols and recurring themes and “clueing for looks” and I love it desperately, still. 

But we’re here to talk about this fandom, so on with the poem! Essentially, the poem outlines a dream the speaker had: In his dream, he’s standing in a field with flowers - beautiful ones of all kind - and he meets this young man with clear blue eyes and bright red lips and they kiss a bit and have a picnic, and it’s all lovely. If you think I’m kidding, I’m really not. Please, read it for yourself. 

Anyways, after they did they did the whole picnic thing, the speaker and his date go on a walk in this field, where they come across two figures. The first is described as, 

“...fair and blooming, and a sweet refrain Came from his lips; he sang of pretty maids And joyous love of comely girl and boy, His eyes were bright, and 'mid the dancing blades Of golden grass his feet did trip for joy; And in his hand he held an ivory lute With strings of gold that were as maidens' hair, And sang with voice as tuneful as a flute, And round his neck three chains of roses were.” 

- Two Loves, 1894

The speaker, however, was drawn to the second figure: 

“He was full sad and sweet, and his large eyes Were strange with wondrous brightness, staring wide With gazing; and he sighed with many sighs That moved me, and his cheeks were wan and white Like pallid lilies, and his lips were red Like poppies, and his hands he clenched tight, And yet again unclenched, and his head Was wreathed with moon-flowers pale as lips of death. A purple robe he wore, o'erwrought in gold With the device of a great snake, whose breath Was fiery flame..”

- Two Loves, 1984

Of course, the speaker immediately asks the second man who he is. The second man says, “My name is Love”. The first man corrects him quickly: 

“ He lieth, for his name is Shame, But I am Love, and I was wont to be Alone in this fair garden, till he came Unasked by night; I am true Love, I fill The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.”

-Two Loves, 1984

The second man sighs and acquiesces, “Have thy will. I am the love that dare not speak its name.” 

It was, of course, this last line that really gave the meaning of the poem away. It was the line that was put to Oscar Wilde as proof of a romantic relationship, it was the line that went down in history as a way to refer to queer love, and it was the line that first stuck out to me when I was reading “Dream With Me”. 

The reading here is clearly that “Love” is the love that is acceptable to society - easy, sweet, and cherished. “Shame” is the love that happens in secret - beautiful, alluring to the speaker, passionate, anxious ( as can be seen in the clenching and unclenching of his hands), and proud. He refuses to call himself as anything but what he is. The first man may call him Shame, but he refuses the name, and instead, offers a qualifier to his own descriptor. He is still love, he is just the love that can’t be spoken about. 

3.) Walking in Golden Fields of Sunflowers

Now let’s talk about “Dream With Me”. I’m ignoring the first few stanzas (from the line “Have you ever wondered” to “What the two of us can find”.) because those are pretty standard introductory paragraphs to a guided meditation. So we start with the line “Let’s travel now to moonlit valleys...”. 

I’m going to do the same thing I did with “Two Loves” first. I am going to describe literally, in general terms, what happens in the story. Warning, I change pronouns from “they” to “you” because the whole thing confuses me, but note that I’m always talking about the speaker and the listener: 

So after doing the standard intro, the speaker and the listener take a walk through the woods enjoying nature, particularly the grass, the trees, and the blue sky above. You’re already clearly in love. Then you’re magically on a raft, with cherry blossoms all around you. If you want a good visual for that, here’s a site that has pictures from a boat rental in Tokyo where you can snuggle on a raft in the  Chidorigafuchi moat. And then suddenly it starts raining, and they (you) watch the rain for a hot second, and then the scene magically shifts again, and you’re under a porch (although I guess it could be the boat rental’s porch. They do usually have covered areas). 

Kind of furthering that theory, they then lounge by the shoreline, skipping stones and hanging out, looking at the snow capped mountains. In case you’re curious, because at this point I sure was, you can see mountains from certain areas in the city of Tokyo. 

Anyways, then it’s snowing, and you’re magically in a cabin, just chilling by the fire, and you fall asleep again. You wake up somewhere else.

Where are you now? Well, you’re on a tropical island filled with palm trees. As an American, my mind immediately jumps to the Caribbean, but I suppose it could absolutely be in the Mediterranean as well. The island has white beaches, mangroves, a turquoise ocean, and a gorgeous, peaceful atmosphere. 

If you’re curious as to what a mangrove looks like - and I certainly was - they are a group of trees and shrubs that live in the coastal intertidal zone and Jamaica is doing a massive restoration project involving primary school children to regrow this vital part of their ecosystem. More interestingly, there currently exist no mangrove forests in the Mediterranean, so my initial feeling that this scene would take place in the Caribbean was correct. On that note - again, because I was curious - Jamaica has gorgeous white sand beaches with turquoise oceans. 

But I’ve gone off topic again! After you’re minds are “in tune” once more (trying to find a heartbeat, anyone?), you reappear in a meadow, with beautiful flowers of all kind, where you are now walking hand in hand through a field of sunflowers, which give the feeling a “warm and golden hue”. Then you come across a little farmhouse with daisies poking out (clearly I have no way of locating this anywhere in the world, but I assume that the UK has both sunflowers and daisies). It’s an empty house which was loved and left because of the passage of time, which inspires my favorite line in the poem: “ The thought of passing time inspires/A feeling that grows stronger”. It’s just...really sweet to me. 

So, of course, they do what anyone would do when they come across an empty farmhouse, they go inside. And there, they begin to fall asleep, reflecting on all they have just seen, referencing other scenes of the poem: “ Moonlit valleys, Burdened forests, Gazing at the ocean. Summer meadows, Tranquil sunsets steeped in emotion”. 

The next few stanzas are just going to be copy-pasted, and then I’ll go into them a bit, but this is the end of the poem, so they’re the final reflections;

“The tenderness we feel When we are close Two minds as one Surrounds us and connects us But we’ve only just begun.

For now we dream together Of all there is to follow. And know that sleep will keep us safe From now until tomorrow.

Maybe all the memories That we’ve gathered here tonight Are all dreams now remembered Or wishes in plain sight.

No matter what They’re with us now. For this night and forever. And every time we close our eyes They’re yours and mine to treasure.” 

- HS, Dream With Me, via @carl-and-pearl​

And that’s it! The literal story, in short, is that you started in a forest, then went to Tokyo (maybe) and then Jamaica (perhaps) and then back to a field of sunflowers and daisies in the UK (which is also a guess, it could be Italy or France or Idaho for all I know, but let’s call it an educated guess). 

4.) My Dream Journal

So now that we know what happens in the story, how do we interpret this? Well, There are a few lines in the poem that I want to draw your attention to: the first takes place in the first part of this story, when you’re still in the forest. This is, I must say, the most direct reference to Two Loves in the whole poem/song/story. Both works are describing a walk in the woods with your loved one, and, in a fun reference in the middle of the story, Dream With Me says

The shimmering reflection Shows us smiling from above. But what we think But dare not speak is L-O-V-E love.

-Dream With Me, 2020

Remember that line I mentioned before? I am the love that dare not speak its name. Right, so that’s almost a direct quote. It also has a really fun nod to “I Would” (Would he say he’s in L-O-V-E?/Well if it was me then I would), but I digress. 

This first part of the narrative, I feel, really sets up what the rest of it will look and feel like, in the same way that “Golden” sets the tone for Fine Line. (You didn’t think I was going to make a post about Harry and NOT mention Golden, did you?? If you did, I’m disappointed!!). So  let’s take a look at what’s happening, and the language he’s using to describe it. 

One of the best things about this poem is how vivid it feels. Of course, I’m about to argue that it’s vivid because it was based in reality, but let’s talk about the sheer amount of detail he uses to describe the place he’s walking through. The valley (canyon lmao) is moonlit, the grass and the leaves make mosaics of green, you’re walking by the heather (the symbolism of heather is good luck, admiration, and protection), the sepia sunlight breaks through the trees. 

You know what it kind of sounds like? Sweet Creature. You’re about to roll your eyes at me! I can feel it! But listen, okay?  

“Sweet creature Running through the garden Oh, where nothing bothered us But we're still young I always think about you and how we don't speak enough”

Which, to be honest, sounds like what they’re doing. They’re walking through the garden in the sun, not daring to speak about the Love that he (they both) feel, and instead refering to it in veiled Victorian terms. 

And then we head to Tokyo! I know that you’re about to ask me why I think it’s Tokyo versus...idk, anywhere else? Well, for one, he went to Tokyo (to let it go) publicly in 2019. He was there for a few months, and there are some great pictures of that time: 

Look! Here he is with his club owner friend and his dog, and a fun red bandanna! But let’s be honest, the dog really steals the show here. But wait! there’s more! More dog content, too!

This was on Jan 31st, 2019, and he’s taking the dog for a walk! Very cute! If nothing else, he spent a lot of time with dogs in Tokyo! And the city fits the description of the story. So I feel rather comfortable with my interpretation that this first date is a memory of this trip - or another - to Tokyo. 

So what did “you both”do in Tokyo? Well, chill on a raft while the cherry blossoms flutter around you, clearly. You also refocused your purpose. What did he do in Tokyo in 2019? Well, he took time to think about and write songs for the album he was about to go record. Kind of like refocusing on what’s next, right? And then, in the story when “you both” had time to think amongst the lake and the water and the rain and the moon, and you’d come to the conclusions you needed to, you left. What did he do when he did the things he needed to? Well, he left, too. 

And where did he go? Well, in real life, I suppose he went to do his job. But, in the story, you’re meant to be falling deeper and deeper into sleep, so it’s sort of like traveling backwards, you see? Like counting down to one. So you end up on this island with turquoise ocean and mangrove forests. I’m calling this Jamaica. Why? Well, the description fits, for one, down to the four types of mangroves that exists within its ecosystem. 

And - probably the biggest reason - I can place him there, too. Here’s him in 2017:

I added this picture because the water around him....looks rather turquoise, doesn’t it? Kind of like he’s enjoying his time on a tropical island by the beach?? Oh, and here’s another one!: 

The red bandanna makes a comeback! 

So what are you doing in Jamaica, according to the story? Well, you’re hanging out, basically. Enjoying the beach and each other, of course!  What else? To be exact, “[Your] thoughts dovetail and unify/ In tune two minds together”. I’m so glad that you’re tuned like an old guitar now! Congrats! Really happy for you! 

What was he doing in Jamaica three years ago? Why, he was recording his first album, or so the story goes. I’ll tell you something: finding press for that album was literally the most difficult part of this whole analysis. I got a fair bit of the tattoo roulette with Kendall Jenner, and some things about Carolina, but the interview with Zach Sang took me like an hour and a half to find again to link. The fact that a lot of it has been buried is...not great, for posterity purposes. He’s going to want that one day. 

But I’ve gotten off track again! We gotta go back and finish our story, right? What happens now? Well, this does: 

hahahaha okay, I’m really sorry, but I had to. I’m not, actually, making it up though! According to the story: 

“ As minutes turn to hours We drift off somewhere new. And visualize a stairway To a door we now walk through”

- Dream With Me, 2020

So maybe Louis was just...demonstrating for you. 

Anyways! Where do you walk out to? A golden field full of sunflowers. You walk for a minute, then come across an old house with daisies popping up out of the garden. And that’s where the story ends. I guess you’ve made that farmhouse feel like home. 

Now to the little reflection he does on the outro. The lines I want to bring your attention are: “The tenderness we feel when we are close two minds as one surrounds us and connects us but we’ve only just begun” and “Maybe all the memories that we’ve gathered here tonight are all dreams now remembered or wishes in plain sight.”

Let’s talk about the first sentence first. In the context of finding a home that could be a shared home, and a future, this is very much an “end of the story, beginning of our lives” sort of thing. You’re back from all over, and it’s time to settle down, and see what’s next. 

And now the second sentence. I think this is the one that really drives my point about this story being a collection of memories he has - that’s what he calls it. The story is “gathered memories” that might also be called “remembered dreams” (think of how people say of vacations, “oh it was a dream!”) or you might call it “wishes in plain sight”. This feels in line with the rest of the story. In this stanza, he’s sort of letting you in a bit. If I’ve read this right - and I really think that I have - he’s giving the larger context for the story. It’s a collection of memories he’s had with someone he loves. 

5.) Cool! Can you prove it? 

I mean, I’d argue that if you read this far, I have proved it, but let’s make some more links, shall we? This was called a “muscial epic” that was “driven by him”. I’d argue that if I know my Victorian literature (thank you, Sherlock!), then he definitely does. Then there’s the fact that he quoted it, so. That did happen. And he knows what it means. And even if he didn’t, there were two other people on the story. Someone was more than capable of catching that one, and the fact that they didn’t speaks to intent. They want you to think of that phrase when you read this poem. They want you to think of that walk in the woods while you’re going on this one. 

And, as for my assumption that this is for and about one person, well. Think about it. He said that he writes his songs for a single listener. I’m not saying it’s the same listener each time, let’s get that right, but it is always just for one person. With that, and with the assumption that he’s been involved in the writing of this story, I’d say that the same rule applies. He went with someone to Japan and Jamaica (J^2 haha). And, if I had to guess, it was the same person. 

Why, you ask? Well, for one, if that weren’t the case, then this poem would no longer be for one listener, it would be for multiple. And, for another, imagine how awkward it would be to listen to it with his current partner and have to explain “oh, yeah that was the super romantic vacation I took with someone else” . And, I suppose that because I think that attitude of “refocusing” and “dovetailing” and “tuning” and getting excited about imagining all of the tomorrows with your partner speaks to a long term relationship breathing easily, you know? 

I’m also going to argue that describing the aura around the house as “golden” was intentional, especially when paired with the location - in the middle of a field of sunflowers. Those are both direct references to his songs. And those two songs are particularly linked by the number 28. The third song that features 28 is Fine Line the song, but that’s a different story. Anywho! “Golden”’s bridge just repeats the word ‘golden’ twenty eight times (if you go here , you can count the bridge) and “Sunflower Vol. 6″ ends the song with 28 “boops” (believe me, I wish I was making this up. I’m not.). So then, once again, you’ve linked a story to two already linked songs. 

And, even if you don’t buy the intentional repetition, they’re linked another way, aren’t they? The color scheme and the sun symbol. Sunflowers were named because of their sun-like appearance. They turn to face it. They symbolize loyalty and adoration. And then, of course, the sun is - say it with me - golden. And it - like the person in golden - waits in the sky, beautiful and dangerous and constant. And here that symbol is, in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. At home. 

This whole story feels like you’re taking the time to find that heartbeat that you think you might have lost, and sort of coming back to a space where you understand that this is what you want, now and forever. It feels like finding a home that could be yours forever, and it feels like walking through some of the moments that remind him of that. 

It really is rather lovely, if you think about it, especially since he has a tendency to attribute “home” to people rather than place, in his songs. So it’s like. Going all around the world and always being at home. 

#harry styles #calm #dream with me #two loves #honestly man #im happy for you #but ewww #be less sappy please #i mean #SOME OF US DONT HAVE THAT YET HAROLD #hahahaha i think im funny #long post ts #idk how else to tag this but im really proud of it #okay now i'll do the penguin song #promise hahaha

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

can I ask for number 6 (sfw) with leona please? thanks~

Why yes you may. So.... this turned into a short fic because I’ve been wanting to write a Hanahaki disease troupe for a while now. It also ended up a lot more ansgty than I had intended when I originally wrote up the prompt, but oh well, it happens. I hope you like this despite Leona being a little bit OC towards the end. Nonetheless enjoy!

Warnings/Tags: Blood, disease, pain, angst, maybe a smidgen of comfort at the end, death, unrequited love, requited love, Hanahaki disease troupe with my own spin, the ending is sappy just so you know

   Pain blossomed in your chest as you rounded the corner. An itchy feeling in your throat turned into a burn, prompting you to rush past the other students in the hall and push your way into the nearest bathroom. Coughs wracked your body and forced dark pink petals splattered with blood up your throat. 

   It was unclear how long it took you to finally settle down from the coughing fit. This had been happening for months. Starting with simple coughs and the occasional petal had turned into painful fits where you choked on the amount of petals and blood that made its way out from your throat. It was a horrible thing and you knew what it was and how to get rid of it. The only problem was that no one in this place knew how or even what it was. 

   You were about to get up when you were suddenly forced into another fit of coughs. This one was more violent and painful. Tears streamed from your closed eyes and you gripped the edge of the toilet harshly. It’s almost over. It’s almost over. It’s almost over. It’s almost over. 

   Once the hacking had stopped you panted for breath and gazed into the bloodied toilet. A sinking feeling filled you when you saw a flower. An entire flower the color crimson. Your time was nearly up and you could feel it. You could feel thorns spreading out from your lungs and pricking their walls. Soon they would puncture and you would cough until there was no air left to cough up.

   “Um… is coughing up flowers normal where you come from?” You jerked and winced as the stabbing sensation got worse. Turning you spotted Leona leaning against the inside of the stall wall and realized you must have forgotten to close the door in your haste. Another spike of pain burned your lungs as the thorns grew just from Leona’s close proximity. 

   If you hadn’t shut your eyes you would have seen the demi lion flinch and concern pass through his eyes. You breathed shallowly and coughed again before shifting into a sitting position.

   “No it’s not. Well sort of.” you panted and Leona raised an eyebrow. “It’s called Hanahaki disease. Where I come from it stems from unrequited love.” At that the mage looked at you in disbelief and crossed his arms. You continued despite his obvious suspicions. 

   “When you first get it, you cough a lot and sometimes spit up little yellow petals. Gradually as time goes on and the disease gets worse the petals turn pink and then darker as you cough up more of them. Eventually you cough up your first full flower, which is always the color of blood. It means that…” You paused and looked up at Leona with tearful eyes.

   You didn’t want to say it out loud. It would only make it more real, but if there was anything you learned from having Hanahaki disease, it’s that it is very real and very painful. Maybe if it had been someone else who had found you then you would have been able to explain it fully but Leona was the last person you wanted to explain your condition to. The lion man grew impatient and gestured for you to go on. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to speak the words. 

   “When you cough up your first flower it means that the thorns have nearly punctured your lungs and within the day you will die.” Silence was what met you first, but you watched as Leona’s eyes flickered from you to the toilet bowl full of petals and blood. And directly in the middle of it lay a crimson flower, bloomed straight from your pain. 

   He was quiet for a long time before he looked at you again and frowned. 

   “How do you fix it?” 

   “You can’t. At least not here. There are two ways for Hanahaki disease to be cured. A: the more favorable option. To have the person change their mind and decide to love you, that or they loved you all along and you just never knew about it. B: the more painful option and one I would turn to if it were a service offered here, surgery.”

   “Surgery?” Leona asked with a confused expression.

   “Surgery,” you wheezed, “where they remove the flowers and thorns from your lungs. Except it only works if you take the seed out as well. If you don’t remove the seed the flowers will just regrow overnight. A lot of people don’t turn to this option until the very last minute because removing the seed means removing your ability to feel anything. All of your emotions are tied to that seed and without it a person will live a life of numbness.”

   The look on Leona’s face morphed from confusion to shock and then back to confusion.

   “Hanahaki disease doesn’t exist here so they don’t have the surgery option which likely means that the people here aren’t born with seeds.” You spoke, sensing his thoughts. He looked down at you and scrunched his eyebrows together.

   “So who’s your unrequited lover?” 

   You froze and looked back into the toilet. Another fit of coughing sprung from your chest and left you heaving for air through the flowers that clogged your lungs and throat. Distantly you felt Leona’s hand on your back before it disappeared and his footsteps made their way away from you. 

   Tears slid down your face and plopped into the bloody water beneath you. Oh if only he had loved me.

----------

   Only a few hours had passed since your arrival in the nurses wing. Yet the elderly woman who looked over the health of her students stood sadly against the wall near her door, waiting to deliver grim news to all who came her way.

   Leona, who had already figured out what happened, stayed slumped against the opposite wall. His mind raced to process the situation. Everything had happened so quickly, it seemed like only minutes ago he walked in on your coughing and decided to tease you about your frail herbivore body getting sick. Then you had told him about your condition and the sight of you, weak, and trembling next to a toilet filled with evidence of your nearing doom had made him sick with this emotion he wasn’t used to feeling. He had run to get help when he realized that he could offer none, but a part of him wished he had stayed when he and the nurse returned to find you slumped, unconscious against the wall, blood staining your lips and tear streams lining your cheeks. 

   The lion growled in frustration at the recent memory and pushed himself off the wall. The nurse didn’t stop him when he entered the room you were being kept in. Soon they would move you to a better spot where you could be prepped for a funeral. The thought filled his mouth with a bad taste so he elected to ignore it as he sat beside your far too still body. 

   A sigh left him as he felt that emotion rise in his chest once again. He snarled as if he could scare it away but interrupting the silence in the room only made him feel worse. 

   How had no one else noticed sooner. Perhaps then they could have found a way to save you. Leona looked over at your pale face and frowned. It was weird not having you there. He supposed you would have had to leave for your own world anyway but this was different. This was a very permanent and sudden goodbye. The kind no one ever wants to experience. 

   Another sigh left his lips as he ran a hand over your forehead and pushed your hair back. Even in death you were beautiful. His hand made its way down to your chest where he let it hover for a moment before pressing down in hopes that he could find any sort of beat at all. There was none. However he did feel something strange underneath your clothes and skin. 

   Glancing back towards the door, Leona carefully undid the top part of your shirt and spread it aside so he could examine your chest area. What he saw had him retracting his hands very quickly and flinching backwards. 

   Underneath your skin vines wriggled and moved as they broke free from your lungs and wound their way through the other parts of your body. The tip of a thorn broke through the surface of your skin and dragged it’s way across your chest making odd jerks and turns. As horrified as he was, Leona leaned forward and watched as the thorn carved a word into your flesh. He watched carefully as it retreated back into its spot in your body and he felt his blood run cold.

   Leona Kingscholar. The word was his name. Then it hit him. The unrequited love had been him. This whole time you had been suffering because of him. And now you were dead because of it. 

   Sobs forced their way out of his throat and he gripped your arm tightly whispering that he had changed his mind. You could come back now because he had cured you. You were alright because he loved you. 

   None of his pleas did anything to bring you back, and eventually when the headmaster and your other friends arrived, Leona excused himself to run back to his room in Savanaclaw.

---------

   Leona rolled over and sighed, breathing in deeply to inhale the scent of the flowers that hung overhead. They smelled like you and their petals, once a horrific shade of red, now the same color as your eyes. 

   The lion yawned and smiled up at your flowers before patting the earth beneath him with his tail. He had cured you by being in love with you, and although that had not saved you from the thorns that terrorised your lungs, it had gotten rid of them and allowed you to sprout beautiful flowers that reminded him of you. 

   Just beneath the soil, your body lay decomposed into more rich minerals for the earth. Your heart however had transformed into the seed of the loveliest flowers Leona had ever seen. The disease that had taken you from him also gifted him with a plant of great beauty. 

   He lay underneath your flowers everyday and let their scent lull him to sleep. And occasionally if he listened very closely to the earth beneath him, he could almost hear the sound of your heart still beating. Beating because you were in love.

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona x reader #twst leona x reader #oneshot #hanahaki #25daysofprompts #leona kingscholar x reader

[shadlad24]

More Funny Little Moments #1: Season 1, Episodes 1-12

So, I decided to do this post after all. Halp. LOL Because I apparently LOVE giving myself a bunch of unnecessary work, I decided to choose two to three extra moments, per episode! SUPER halp! X’D Anyway, these are moments that didn’t make the cut for my FFLM series because: my sense of humor is a little weird, they were gonna be too much work (LOL/Siiigh), I like to highlight patterns, and I don’t like a lot of repetition. [Links to each FFLM along the bottom of the post. :)]

Let’s start with something I originally agreed with other fans on but have since changed my mind. A lot of people didn’t like this part of “Chariots of War” because it seems so ludicrous that Xena would forget her chakram anywhere. Well, let me tell you! This lady has left her weapons behind most episodes thus far. I didn’t note it every time here (and especially didn’t bother with her whip) because that’d really overrun the post buuuuut… You’ll see. XD

1.01 Sins of the Past

Xena’s shift being so much dirtier than the little boy’s clothes though she’s high up off the ground, and he lives in smoked-out rubble.

Yup. Xena forgot her sword (and later, her main saddlebag) at her mother’s tavern. Pft.

Sorry these were kinda lame, but I didn’t want to re-use any more of the original fifteen points I made about this episode... Ah well. Moving on! (heh)

1.02 Chariots of War

Xena loses her sword after the chariot crash, taking up and discarding Sphaerus’s but walking off without her own. (See her front and back and both of Argo’s sides.)

Gabrielle chewing Xena out, Xena being bummed about it, and Argo being surprised. X’D

1.03 Dreamworker

This got me good. Gabrielle does Xena’s war cry so well here that I really thought it was Xena for a few seconds. Realizing it was GabbyWabs only made me chuckle more because she apparently can’t do it when it really counts in “The Greater Good.”

Argo NOT being on Team Gabrielle. XD (Their feud is a little funny to me.)

1.04 Cradle of Hope

Xena tossing aside her sword after killing Nemos. Extras even dance and celebrate right on top of it! Wut thuh?

I decided to avoid mentioning Hope in the FFLM because Xena’s quote here is more ironic than comedic, and Gabrielle’s little face is just so sad, but I didn’t want to let it pass by entirely unremarked upon. At least GW gets to show off her oracle skills again? :’)

1.05 The Path Not Taken

So, Xena and Gabrielle walk into a bar… Heh. No, but really, they enter this tavern for the first time ever, yet the bartender not only knows what they want, he knows that they’re coming and has their drinks waiting for them too. All Xena has to do is knock on the counter and nod to get her fire-breath alcohol/oil, and Gabrielle barely has the word “cider” out of her mouth before the guy hands it to her. Xena, like me, is duly amazed.

Lucy, through Xena, making another timely anti-peanut statement. I just didn’t want to do the same thing twice back-to-back in the FFLM. X)

1.06 The Reckoning

Gabrielle thinking along the same lines Xena and I did about this poor excuse for a judge.

Me not being well-versed in ancient Greek heroes and picturing the fool who Draco killed so handily in the first episode. heh

1.07 The Titans

I’ll let Xena explain this one. …Mostly. I can’t believe Gabrielle not only sassed the Titans such that she unashamedly put Xena and Phyleus in danger too, but also kinda got this (admittedly awful) town demolished and didn’t lift a finger to actually help anyone in the temple. Tsk tsk. XP

So… Hyperion here can smash homes and businesses that were probably well-built and reinforced and all, but he can’t get his hand out of a stocks-cuff that was made in a single evening with scraps from those destroyed buildings. He also, inexplicably, has no use of his left hand or the power-breath that he used to knock Gabrielle over. Okie. XD

1.08 Prometheus

Is this really a thing? I was giggling quite a bit in disbelief that severed windpipes can heal. Like, perforated is one thing; completely bisected? Yeah, I don’t think so.

Gabrielle being incredulous upon learning that Xena has other friends, realizing what the warrior princess means, and then wondering if that could be her one day. 

   1.09 Death in Chains

Gabrielle enjoying watching Xena kill someone for the first time, then quickly realizing that fact. Whoops.

I found this moment really odd and then kind of hilarious. This poor dying old woman begs for water and goes ignored not only by the hospice workers, but also Talus and Gabrielle. Then Talus decides to be helpful. Gabrielle goes to the woman and lets her talk a lot (undoubtedly drying her mouth and throat even more), hears that Xena might be in danger, and then just… leaves. Talus goes with her, not having gotten water from the well after all. What a couple of jerks! XD

1.10 Hooves & Harlots

I really don’t know why Gabrielle kept making this face as Terreis died, but it tickled my funny bone too. So, I provided alternate subs to go with it. [Did you notice how she kind of cringes when Terreis tries to hold her hand and then just lets the Amazon flop once she’s died, flinging her hand aside like, “Ew, get it off me!”? What was that all about? X”) Hm… maybe she has an aversion to dying people, and that’s why she abandoned the old lady last episode?]

Gabrielle being a smart aleck, just like me, because Phantes’s complaint here is so ludicrous. But then you see the close-up of little hoofies in cuffs too, and, if you’re anything like me too, kinda just topple over laughing. The poor actual horse they did this to, though, man! What even?

Gosh, this episode was chockfull of hilarity, eh? Why did this happen? Gabby, take it away!

1.11 The Black Wolf

I laughed at this too. But now I wonder. Is Xerxes related to Caesar and/or connected to Rome or something? Because Xena does this twice around them too. In “When in Rome,” she jokes that the two guards lost playing tag with her, and in “A Good Day” she informs Pompey that if there were more guards hiding around their meeting space, then she would have had more helmets. heh Oh, Xenie. I think I know why Gabrielle’s turning out to be such a little punk ...or vice versa? Is Gabrielle actually a bit of a bad influence on Xena? XP

So, this fight just struck me as really odd. Xena passes her sword to Flora though she (Xena) needs to battle the big boss of the episode, and… actually, is totally right. The king throws a single wide-ass punch, waits while Xena kicks the guy behind her a few times, lets himself get kicked in the face a couple of times, and then comes at her with a little piece of chain, presumably from the restraints that were intended to keep Flora in place during her execution. Sir, you have a sword! A giant sword, right there on your hip! What are you doing? Then, when Xena kicks him a final time and sends him flying, his (supposed-to-be) metal armor is no match for the splintered wood of the axe she broke earlier. …Okie. XD XD XD   *gif below*

Xena once again leaves her chakram somewhere. …And I am now imagining this being part of Gabrielle’s maid duties: the poor kid has to go find Xena’s weapons each night and bring them back to her. I’m especially imaging the fluffball hilariously, adorably struggling to get the chakram out of things like this wall, as she did with Xena’s sword in the tree stump in “Dreamworker,” but more parallel to the floor. Cuuuute! XD

This plus this 

*pic + GIF below*:

1.12 Beware Greeks Bearing Gifts

This scene too really made me wonder, though amused as well. Why is Gabrielle so surprised that the only city nearby, that they were headed to, is the one they find? Is she really being that loud? Is Xena goofing around with the bootlaces question? Why startle Gabrielle and then yank her into enemy territory screaming, when what you want is quiet? What’s with the trapdoor-spider soldiers? Xena’s pose throwing the chakram. XD Gabrielle mostly featherlight dance-y moves through the battlefield. XD XD XD Why is it that when Xena tells Gabrielle to stick right behind her, Gabrielle disappears? And what was with the bucket-sitting soldier? Gabrielle is like, “Oh; no, thank you!” when she sees him and turns tail. Then Xena ...follows her. “We’re goin’ this way! Now we’re goin’ that way!” But they still end up dead-ahead from where they burst out of the bushes. XD That was ridiculous and nonsensical, and I’m very confused but had lots of fun. heheheh  *gif below* [ETA: Darn! The original file was too big, so I had to remake the GIF and cut quite a few things out. :( Sorry]

Xena’s outta-nowhere crusade to emasculate Deiphobus coming full-circle. What was that all about?

Welp, I hope you had as much fun as I originally and then later did. Not so much in the middle with the collage-and-GIF-making and editing and redoing, but; y’know. XD Wouldn’t trade it for …Hm… Nevermind. LOL

If you missed any of the FFLMs, then please click on the corresponding number-links below. :D

#1  #2  #3  #4  #5 #6 #7 #8 #9 #10 #11 #12

#xwp #xena #xena warrior princess #gabrielle #xena and gabrielle #fflm #funny #comedy #season 1 #forgetful #magic #shenanigans #argo #chakram #sword

[deathvsthemaiden]

Tagged by @florrdemaga (thank you Iris! 💜🪄) to fill out this tag meme! These questions were really fun, I’m glad I was tagged 🏷🕊

1. Do you like answering tags?

LOVE answering tags!! Sometimes during dry spells where no one’s rlly doing any tag memes I’m like maybe I should start one... have no ideas tho alas ✊🏽😔💔

2. Do you prefer to write fanfiction, read fanfiction, create fanart, make video edits, or none of the above?

Create fanart!!! Oh god I have so many ideas for fan and original art I just barely draw anymore for various reasons. Sometimes I look at my old wips and make myself sad for no good reason, I don’t want to talk about it 😞🥀 (<- she’s being dramatic ignore her)

I dabble in reading fanfic but rarely, because I don’t have the patience to comb thru it all for quality stuff that suits my tastes AND. Most of the time the stuff I wanna read in terms of fanfic doesn’t exist bc I’m specific and picky and/or I most wanna read about my favorite side characters who get less spotlight in their respective canons... but because they’re obscure faves, I have fewer fics to choose from 😔 and I wouldn’t know where to start writing my own fanfiction, writing cohesive coherent stories in general trips me up an insane amount, so I just close my eyes and dream up vague scenarios from time to time 😴💭

3. Nails painted (include what color) or not?

I default to any bright or dark red, pale/shiny pink, plum purple, or copper. I usually paint my pointer fingers a different color because it makes the acts of pointing and gesturing more fun... I can’t explain it. Rarely do I remember to actually paint my nails tho!

4. What would your amortentia smell like? (For those who don’t know Harry Potter, amortentia is a love potion that smells different to each person based on what attracts them. Basically what are your favorite smells?)

Roses, jasmine, sage, oud, cooking or baking just like in general, can’t think of specific dishes rn, the sea, coffee, chai.... I can’t rlly choose, I don’t think about smells often 😳😳😳😳😳 I just like what I like in the moment and usually forget later GWUSBSNS

5. Would you prefer to live in an extremely hot or cold climate?

HOTTTT!!! Hot a thousand times over 🔥

6. Favorite flavor of chapstick or do you not wear any?

I acquired a tube of pomegranate burt’s bees recently and it wiped clean any and all prior chapstick flavors from my memory... am obsessed with it and the subtle red it leaves.

7. Enemies to lovers or friends to lovers?

GOD THE SECOND ONE... bores me most of the time, at least conceptually, so enemies to lovers. I much prefer drama and the idea of getting to meet new people instead of sticking to someone you’ve known forever, like for me personally friends to o lovers just feels too “expected” or “easy” (these are not the right words I can’t think of any better ones rn tho have mercy) unless it’s done in a veryyy specific way. And sometimes the obstacles in friends to lovers feel less compelling/convincing than the ones present in enemies to lovers. (I’m generalizing but it’s sort of impossible to avoid doing that when answering a q like this!)

I also love enemies to lovers or almost any complicated fictional relationship w/ some sort of animosity or tension involved because when handled effectively it’s more engaging to watch characters navigate emotions that feel almost like opposites. Also they validate my strong belief that love is never uncomplicated or effortlessly “pure,” and that the existence of it doesn’t cancel out the very real possibility of less savory and potentially valid feelings. In my experience most relationships are complicated by weird combinations of feelings and that makes the good parts of them more... idk... satisfying or precious. I’m messy basically.

8. Favorite type of weather?

Sunny sunny sunny sunny sunny 🥺🤲🏽☀️

9. Do you use :), :], or :D?

:) and :D !

Tagging: @pinkafropuffs @noblyphantasmic @chaliceandsword @chiiquitita @fithragaer @fatallist and... 6 is a nice number, I’ll stop here because I’m in a rush, but as always this is free and fair game for anyyyyyyone! Be bold be swift be unafraid 🕊

#I should I clarify when I say enemies to lovers I usually imagine enemies on a personal level rather than oh we’re on different sides #They can and do overlap but when duty and no hard feelings are the barrier #between two love interests that’s like... a whole different ‘genre’ or w/e to me #tagged in

[the-odd-job]

Building Dreams chapter 6 - Terms We Must Come To

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Rating: Mature Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Relationships: Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Unnamed Characters, Original Characters Additional Tags: Alien Culture, Dubcon, Angst, Mechpreg Words: 3865

( Previous )

They wound up sitting side by side on the berth, once they both regained enough control over their bodies to do so. Sunstreaker never once let go of him, holding him tight against him, and Sideswipe was so impossibly grateful for that—even if it was an of course.

Of course Sunstreaker would know just what he needed. And right now? That was just… Proximity to someone familiar, someone safe, someone that hadn’t gone as crazy as the rest of their life. 

Three days ago. Just three days ago they’d gone to get their test, thinking the most likely would happen to them too: that nothing would come of it.

Three days later and they’d been forced into a spark merge in a place that they were supposed to call home for the rest of their comparatively short life. No spark could endlessly take the strain of carrying constantly. 

So that was it. This was it.

This, their spark still hurting, both emotionally as well as physically, and it would repeat, time and time and time again and again and again… Until it gave out. 

Sideswipe buried his face back into his servos and tried to stifle his sob, futile as it was. Sunstreaker growled and his hold on him only tightened. He was still trying to hold onto his anger, and it was a very real emotion, there was no denying that–

But despair was taking root next to it. They both knew how stuck and trapped and utterly at the mercy of the way things worked they were. They could hurt all they wanted to, they could be in as much emotional pain as they fragging well liked–

But all of it would still happen. Their consent wasn’t necessary. 

That was the worst part, that they’d lost their right to self-dictate just for one stupid reason. One stupid ability their spark happened to have that most others didn’t. That was all it took to put them here. Society had decided it would be taken advantage of for its rarity, and damn what they thought of it—how much they didn’t want to… Pits.

The feel of another spark against theirs—the weight of a stranger’s frame on top of him, and him, unable to move, unable to do anything about it, because choices like those weren’t his to make anymore.

He’d always thought spark was the most private part of anyone, and maybe for some it was. Something that wasn’t shown without a good reason, and that no one else definitely got to touch without an even better reason. Touch, least of all, with their own spark. That was the most intimate way to connect with someone.

And now, he’d experienced that, but with a complete stranger that had no care for him, that willfully ignored his emotions, all the ways his spark tried to deny. It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter beyond his ability to spark and carry.

That was all he was being boiled down to. A carrier, a breeder, and that was to be the entire purpose of his life, his entire identity. The burn in his core… The heat of a spark alien to his own. His life.

He didn’t want to feel it, but the phantom sensation of someone else’s personality, motivations, thoughts, it just remained. He never wanted to feel it—not like this.

“I can’t do this,” Sideswipe whispered into his servos, but it didn’t matter if Sunstreaker heard him with this frame. Their spark was full of the same sentiment. He knew.

Sunstreaker growled again, turning to press his lips to the top of Sideswipe’s helmet. “We have to,” he murmured back at him.

It wasn’t Sunstreaker buying into this being their duty that they couldn’t deny—even if it was that, too—it was him acknowledging that… They had no other option. What else could they do? Fragging… Kill themselves? Things were bad, but they weren’t that bad. Escaping would be the vastly preferable option, but if they were to ever succeed in that… It’d take time.

For now, they had no other option but to endure everything.

At least they were alone for the moment. The guards had left them by themselves after making sure they were recovering from the sedation as they should’ve, and the momentary peace and quiet they could just spend together was so welcome. They couldn’t even hear the noises from the common area. Definitely there were no sounds of the city that they were so used to always having around them.

Here there was just… Silence. It wasn’t complete—broken by their frames as well as the low hum of the tower itself—but it was close to that.

And for once it was welcome. Maybe being left alone to their thoughts was a bad thing, circling the drain as they were, but… It was time to piece themselves back together. “We can do this,” Sunstreaker whispered, arguing Sideswipe, and although his voice was quiet, it was fierce too. They had will to live, in fragging spades. The Pits hadn’t killed them. Neither had the streets, for that matter. They’d overcome everything that had gotten thrown at them so far, and there had been… Quite a bit. 

This was an entirely different sort of beast, sure, but what else was this but another challenge? They didn’t have a physical opponent to beat down, this time. There would’ve been the guards, but picking fights with them wasn’t… In line with their ultimate goals. It would’ve been temporary satisfaction that would’ve netted them nothing good in the long run.

He needed to firmly remind Sunstreaker of that, and even then it wasn’t a given that he wouldn’t go and punch a guard in the face anyway—or try to, unlikely as it was starting to look that he could be successful in that. But, they had been pretty good about not picking fights with the Pit guards either. Too many times watching them slag someone else taught you some healthy respect when affording repairs wasn’t a given.

Here they didn’t need to worry about repairs, and most likely not even any bodily harm to begin with, but what they’d seen of the guards… It was already obvious they were outmatched by them, that even without the same level of physical punishment, they would force you into compliance the same any Pit guard would’ve. Were they just supposed to fight a futile battle with them anyway?

It would’ve been a more tempting thought if the guards had done more to them—been a direct reason to the mess they were in. They enforced the rules, yeah, but who had set the rules? The guards hadn’t. Not even Dawnlight, the Head of the whole damn House, had. 

No, those had been put in place by society a long, long time ago. It had been decided that this was the best response to Cybertron’s troubled population numbers, their need to create new life, grow their numbers, or pit, even just keep their numbers from declining.  

They didn’t have much education, but you didn’t need to have anything more than the basics to know the Houses had been the response to that problem, and that they had solved it. Screening for all carrier sparks and corralling them together, putting them to work… It had done the trick. It was a system that worked, at least in the ways that slagging mattered.

What the breeders themselves went through? That didn’t matter. 

It didn’t matter what they were going through, right then. And it was… To have the whole world against you. Everyone thinking this was what you were supposed to do, where you were supposed to be, what you were supposed be. 

How could they win over that?

“Slag all of this,” Sideswipe cursed the whole thing without any real strength or volume. Could they do this? Pits, no one was asking that question, so they shouldn’t either.

They had to do this. They shouldn’t doubt themselves, because if they doubted their strength and ability to withstand? Where would that leave them? In some forever pit of dark muck they'd only drown in? 

He wanted to come out on top. He didn’t want to let this defeat him. 

Sunstreaker wholly supported that little desire, but before they could focus on building it further, there was a knock on their door. They both glanced up a second before the door opened to–

Admit a guard. Coil, specifically. “How are you feeling?” he asked softly, stepping inside and letting the door close after him. Sunstreaker snarled, furious, but Sideswipe caught him before he could get up and do something they’d only regret.

“Been better,” Sideswipe instead answered, quiet but honest. He let his gaze drop, gnawing on his lip again and trying to… Not think about the whole thing too hard. Tear tracks hadn’t even had the time to dry on his face. He didn’t want to add to them.

He did anyway.

“The pit do you want?” Sunstreaker growled, holding him tighter. Trying to protect him, for all there wasn’t much he could ultimately do. 

“I need to check if you ignited,” Coil offered as an explanation. Sunstreaker only glared at him, but Sideswipe nodded. He didn’t want this to defeat him, sure, but right then… He was too tired to keep fighting. Not that there would’ve been much to fight if their greater decision was to earn the trust of the mecha around them, the only chance they’d ever have of making it the slag out of here. 

That still felt like such a pipe dream, but if a pipe dream was all they had… He’d dream.

Coil took that as enough of a permission and stepped up to them, crouching in front of them both. He was taller than they were, but the position left them higher than him, and Sideswipe blinked at him in confusion. It was a weird gesture. “If you’d open your chestplates,” the guard requested, looking at them with something akin to concern.

This whole place was so messed up. And now he was asked to– Again–

Sideswipe shuddered at the thought of baring his spark all over again, but after three deep ventilations that didn’t do enough to steady him, his chestplates reluctantly parted and his internals rearranged until his spark chamber could open. Coil waited him out, but as soon as his spark was visible, he could feel a scan over him—followed by Coil nodding.

Was that a yes?

It was a yes. “You’re sparked. Congratulations—Sunstreaker, let me make sure you’re not having siblings.”

Sunstreaker growled some more, but in time with Sideswipe’s chestplates closing, his opened. Sideswipe didn’t focus on that address all that much, though, too busy sorting his half of them out.

It was a mighty mixed feeling. On one hand, he… Wouldn’t need to merge again just yet. He’d escaped that part of things for now.

But on the other, this meant he was… Oh, Primus.

He was going to have a sparkling. His spark had barely matured, and already he would have a sparkling—one that he wouldn’t have the option of keeping, either. What was that going to feel like?

No, no, he was getting ahead of himself. He should focus on the positive, that only a single merge had done the trick and he wouldn’t need to endure it again anytime soon.

Sunstreaker’s half wasn’t hosting a newspark, luckily. The medical complications that could’ve come from that… Coil acknowledged those briefly as Sunstreaker’s chestplates slammed shut without waiting for any sort of permission. 

“You should go to the common area,” Coil went on to suggest, his gaze passing from one twin to the next—Sunstreaker, meeting his optics with fire; Sideswipe, refusing to even look at him. “You’ll feel better after socializing a little bit.”

Right. With the other carriers, who had all gone through the same thing, probably innumerable times already. If anyone was going to understand, they were. Sideswipe nodded, and after a nod of his own Coil got back up and went to the door. He opened it, but didn’t go through himself, instead waiting for them.

Sunstreaker still hadn’t stopped snarling, although now it was less vocalizer and more engine. Sideswipe caught his servo and gave it a squeeze that at least lowered his volume a bit, and together they got off the berth and walked past Coil to the walkway outside—then down the ramp. The other carriers were rapt on them and Silvertips was quick to come over. He didn’t say anything, just… Hugged him, Sideswipe, despite Sunstreaker’s snarling, and even though they– Slaggit, it wasn’t like they actually knew the mech.

But there he was, giving Sideswipe a hug that was more comforting than it had any right to be. It was different from Sunstreaker’s. He knew he’d always have Sunstreaker’s support and understanding, but Silvertips wasn’t of their spark.

And yet it felt like he understood, too. Why wouldn’t he, though? To be here he’d have needed to go through the same thing, his very first sparking, once upon a time. What reason did they have to think it had been any more pleasant of an experience for him?

“Come on,” Silvertips murmured into his audial after Sideswipe hadn’t returned the hug, but had leaned a little into it despite himself. “Let’s get your mind off of things a little.”

Sideswipe nodded and Silvertips grabbed his servo, the one that wasn’t clutching Sunstreaker’s, pulling them both to the seating and directing them down onto one of the couches. They sat down, Sunstreaker on one side of him, and… Silvertips on the other.

“How’d it go? Did you spark?” Shambang asked where he’d put down his datapad to instead give them his attention. He was a lot more somber than he usually was, but then that was true to mostly everyone. 

“Yeah,” Sideswipe responded, staring at his own lap instead of looking at anyone the way Sunstreaker was. Sunstreaker was bunched up tight, a wound spring of aggression, but he was keeping it down for now. Just sitting—confused. No one was giving him any obvious reason to go off, and that… Wasn’t how things usually went. He needed so little reason.

“Good. Then you won’t have to merge again,” Dancestep nodded firmly, and the others voiced their agreement. Sideswipe did so too, because he didn’t exactly disagree with that.

Pits, he didn’t disagree with that.

“Wanna play?” Shambang asked next, waving his datapad. Sideswipe looked up enough to see the pause screen of a game on it. Whimsidium did the same with his own datapad without saying a thing, but the suggestion seemed to be that they had been playing together. Silvertips smiled at him and Sunstreaker in encouragement, and after just a bit of hesitation, Sideswipe nodded and fished out his datapad.

Sunstreaker didn’t do the same, but he watched the game as Sideswipe joined the other players on the virtual battlefield and pretended he didn’t ache.

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

After a while of playing, they were interrupted by one of the guards coming over with two cubes of… Energon. Small, and hot, with enough taste that Sideswipe could catch their pleasant whiff even before he lifted his helm. Those were offered to the twins, to some dumb staring from Sideswipe and vicious glaring from Sunstreaker.

Silvertips nudged him and Sideswipe glanced his way for the carrier to jerk his helm in the direction of the cubes, his suggestion clear. Sunstreaker growled some more, but after Sideswipe set his datapad down and accepted one of the cubes with a murmured thank you, Sunstreaker did the same with the other—without any thank yous. 

But like that wasn’t enough, the guard seated himself on the low table in front of the couch they were on, and… There was that damned concern again.

“Don’t even start,” Sunstreaker sneered when the mech opened his mouth to say something, he didn’t care what. “You fragging drugged us! You don’t get to just…” His brother didn’t know how to put it all into words, and instead just gestured at the whole of the guard, from his non-threatening posture to his obvious interest in how they were doing or whatever the frag he was going to say.

Sunstreaker got a level look, though behind the guard Sideswipe could see the other carriers share uncertain glances amongst themselves. The guards didn’t seem put off by Sunstreaker’s aggression, but it kind of looked to worry the carriers.

Sunstreaker didn’t really care, but Sideswipe wondered if he should’ve. 

“The first times are always the hardest and the most stressful,” the guard responded to Sunstreaker’s accusation with an even, almost gentle voice, “We want to make them a little easier for you.”

Sideswipe wasn’t sure what he was supposed to think of that, if he was meant to be grateful or what, but Sunstreaker was having none of it. "Stressful? Is that what you call getting forced into a merge against our will?” he snarled, and Sideswipe had to grab at him all over again to keep him from straight up attacking the guard or something like that. He caught Sunstreaker’s attention with that, a little bit, and Sideswipe frowned at the glare he was given.

He got it. Sunstreaker was angry, at the whole system in place, at everything that had happened to lead them here, at the fact his frame had been removed from the equation, that it wasn’t his frame that had had to experience the whole ordeal, and that it wasn’t his frame that had ended up with the sparkling.

But it was all out of his control, which… Didn’t make it better. It only made him that much more angry. 

“You’re a carrier, Sunstreaker. You know your duty to your people and planet,” was all the guard said, because that was what it always circled right back around to. 

“I’ll fragging–” his brother spat out and moved to rise from the couch, but Sideswipe quickly caught him by the arm and yanked him back down. Sunstreaker’s growl was aimed at him this time, but Sideswipe merely shook his helm at his twin and sipped from his cube.

Do the same. 

Sunstreaker did, sitting back against the cushions with a huff and bringing his cube to his lips before he could think otherwise. Once he realized what he was doing, Sideswipe only got that much more intense of a glare, but at least Sunstreaker calmed down enough that he wasn’t of the mind to start beating heads in.

That grated, though. They were playing right into the role expected of them, of the meek little breeder.

Although, just because that was the public’s perception of them… Was it really what they expected of them here, in the House itself? They expected them to obey, sure, but the other carriers… Had they really come off as meek, from what they’d seen so far? Granted, it wasn’t a hell of a lot, but even that was enough to give them the impression that some of them were very much spirited.  

And the guards did nothing about that. 

But they would do something about physical assault, of that there was no doubt. Best not go there.

And the energon was tasty, whatever the guard had put into it. They’d already fueled that day, but… It was still nice. 

“You need to know,” the guard continued, and something about his tone snapped all of Sideswipe’s attention back to him—for a good reason, it turned out, “that the client wants the frame coded internally, and wants to contribute.

“There will be regular appointments in place for him to do so.”

It wasn’t over.

It had never been over, but he’d hoped… He’d hoped there would be even some peace, that he’d just be left alone, for the… The duration of the carry, if nothing else.

That he could have even that much.

He couldn’t.

“How frequent?” Silvertips asked before either brother had found their voice, the cold horror in them too silent. Even Sunstreaker had quieted in the face of it.

“Once every three orns,” the guard answered, and Sideswipe heard it… Sort of distantly. Like he was submerged and the sounds were coming from above the surface—but he heard it.

“Average frequency,” Silvertips commented. Sideswipe knew the carrier was looking at him, but he couldn’t tear his optics from the cube his digits had tightened around. Average. So, not as often as they could’ve been?

Still too often. Just too often.

“We can sedate you for the appointments, if that would make it easier,” the guard told them. Was that their version of help and kindness?

“But they’ll still happen,” Sideswipe murmured.

The guard nodded. “They’ll still happen.”

Of course. Not like there was any saying no to these things. Sideswipe let his optics close, but nodded himself.

“There’s no shame in getting sedated for the merges or the interfacing,” a soft voice said. They couldn’t immediately place it, but when Sunstreaker glanced up, it was to see Whimsidium looking at them. Sunstreaker’s engine growled just a bit, but the sound died down when the quiet carrier cringed away from it. His brother then nodded instead, offering at least his understanding of the sentiment, if not quite his thanks.  

No shame. How often did the others choose to have that done to them? Just to make it through the appointments?  

He felt like he should’ve been more upset by the whole thing than what he felt right then, but Primus, he was tired. His emotions had already gotten scraped raw and there just wasn’t enough left to get worked up over something all over again. 

“The protoform mass will be inserted before the first appointment,” the guard spoke again. Sunstreaker was the one to nod this time, pulling Sideswipe against his side. Sideswipe leaned against him and sipped from his cube again, trying to… Something. Distract himself, maybe. It tasted good. 

“Say if you need anything or if you have any questions,” they were told in parting before the guard left, leaving them to their… Sideswipe wasn’t sure what to call it anymore. Their spark was exhausted and wound up at once, total anarchy raging out of their control. Even Sunstreaker couldn’t scrounge up the energy to grouch at everyone, anymore, staring instead at the contents of his cube.

“You should probably head to recharge soon,” Silvertips spoke softly. They both glanced his way to see the fellow carrier looking at them. He offered them a small smile. “Today’s been rough for you.”

“Kinda, yeah,” Sideswipe sighed, snuggling tighter against Sunstreaker. “How… When will I start… Start to feel the sparkling?”

“About three decaorns,” Silvertips answered. “You’ll be properly aware of it for the last third of the carry.”

Sideswipe nodded. That was… Quite a few “appointments” with the sire.

He shouldn’t think about it. Yet, anyway. 

“Wash and recharge?” Sunstreaker asked from him quietly. They were both in need of some rest, and… Washing sounded nice. It wouldn’t do anything to rid his spark of the crawling feeling left behind by the sire, but maybe it would at least dispel some of the sensation left on his frame.

“Yeah.”

#transformers #maccadam #sunstreaker #sideswipe #breeder au #fic #2021

[mavspeed]

First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Hey @applesfallingfromblondehair, thanks for the tag love!! likewise i dont usually do this but this feels interesting so lets see if my ass has improved over the last few stories lmfkjgjk

also this will prob be a mix of xmcu fic + kingsman fic bc i think i have a more or less equal number of fics written for both

1.

The first time Charles meets Lucifer Morningstar, actual devil from hell, ruler of the underworld, fallen son of the lord above and god knows what else, it had been after Erik had been sentenced to life imprisonment in the highest security cell in the Pentagon. 

- this is from a professor and a devil walk into a bar, which is kinda a crossover rarepair fic that rose out of me and mutuals on twitter discussing tom ellis and james mcavoy being roommates and kinda... devolved from there. i am proud of this one lmfnjgkj

2.

“Are you okay, Professor?” Hank asks quietly.

Charles blinks. He supposes it’s a valid question. He’s been in a bit of a funk the past few days- scratch that actually, the past few years. He’s just lost so much- his father, and then his mother’s love, and then Raven and Erik and Sean and countless others. Building a school, gaining students he loved to teach and nurture hadn’t helped him in the slightest, and he’s as lost as he ever was, wandering the halls of a drafty mansion alone, feeling like he’s been stranded at sea even whilst surrounded by people.

- from in the belly of the beast, which again came out of me wondering what would have happened if fox had gone w their original plan and charles had been that last horseman instead of erik. this story will prob gain a sequel... sometime in the near future when im not too bogged down by current wips

3. 

The Xavier family hall of the deceased- because of course they’re weird enough to have a cemetery- is full of rows upon rows of holograms. Charles is four and gets bored of his father crying over his mother’s hologram, so he toddles over to the other rows. Unfamiliar names, all of them- Charles is young, and he doesn’t understand death. He doesn’t even know who his mother is, who’d died at childbirth and left him with a father still at a loss when it came to bringing up a kid.

- from tequila on a spaceship, the sequel to a fic that still has some people angry at me i think. this fic never did gain as much traction as the first one but im still proud of it esp since it discusses certain themes of reincarnation that ive always wanted to see explored for myself in reincarnation aus (and i only ever saw it in danveresque’s reincarnation au)

4.

There are cork boards covering every inch of the wall. Red strings, photographs, conspiracy threads, everything. Raven takes it in, swallowing, noticing the picture in the middle.

It’s one of Charles, when he’d been in university. His final year- he'd just been done presenting his year- end project, his fringe a tumbled mess and a bright smile on his lips. Erik had taken the picture, Charles scurrying to his side once he’d been done and demanding to look at the image, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. He looks like how Raven had always imagined him to be.

“He wouldn’t want this,” she finally says, turning to look at Erik.

- from tequila on a beach, the first fic to the fic above. this fic is v special to me because i actually wrote this on a spiral after having a very tough visit with one of my parents in the hospital after a surgery for organ removal to prevent the onset of cancer. its simpler than my other fics yet i think more powerful because of what happens. also i think the first time i killed charles off lol (spoiler alert). also idk if ppl were aware of this but this is called tequila on a beach precisely bc charles and erik were tipsy from tequila at a frat party and then went to a beach. its the way they first met (and will continue to meet for all their next lives)

5. 

Erik doesn’t know how it all started. Maybe it was when his insane sergeant had started rambling about imaginary cities, treasures of gold and cursed incantations. Maybe it was when trickles of rumours had started pouring down about the higher ups wanting to investigate unfound territory, disregard the Egyptian government’s feelings on the matter, and put a previously unfound myth on the map for all the world to see. Or maybe, Erik thinks, it was when archaeologist Klaus Schmidt put a bullet through his mother’s head and he ended up going to America armed with dual citizenship and the sole intent of wanting to drive a coin directly between Schmidt’s eyes, joining a division of the American military focused solely on guarding archaeological digs- more importantly, in Egypt, where Schmidt’s interest had shifted.

- from courting the end of the world, another one i’m just insanely proud of! this is the first time i’ve ever attempted a multichapter movie au and it actually managed to work pretty well, i at least haven’t run out of inspiration for it yet lmfjgjg. also erik as himbo rick connell... very rent free in my head

6. 

The day after they murder Shaw and leave his house of horrors, Erik crosses the Canadian border with Charles across his back. Charles had started getting tired while they’d been walking, stumbling and nearly tripping until Erik had forced him to get on his back, ignoring Charles’ protests.

The blood’s seeping out steadily from Charles’ nose, staining his shirt and soaking it through. It’s been leaking on and off, and the effects are already obvious in the dark circles beneath Charles’ eyes. Any more, and Erik knows they’ll have to find him a doctor. He hopes the nearest town in Canada has one that would be willing to treat them.

- from a world built for two. i actually dk where the inspiration for this came from, i think i was once again on a depressive spiral and wanted to break my comfort characters into pieces and put them together again. this also deals with codependency and unhealthy coping mechanisms as a result of trauma which i showed as sweet in the fic but i would def not recommend in real life. pls if u relate to either charles or erik in this go see a therapist

7. 

The call comes in the afternoon, an hour before Charles is supposed to teach his Intro to Genetics class. Frowning, Charles abandons the game of Candy Crush he’d admittedly been playing rather badly and picks it up. “Charles sp-”

“We need you, Prof,” Kitty says desperately into the phone. “He’s been in a temper all morning, and then Alex’s reports missed out a whole subsection, so he’s fired the entire marketing team! Please, Professor, you have to come immediately!”

- from and we can be pirates. i wrote this in like 4 seconds for my friend who wanted professor charles and ceo erik and actually did not expect this to gain the attention it did... its always the fics u write in like 4 seconds lmfjggj. a sequel for this Is coming too probably at some point in the very far future

8. 

Charles Xavier can admit as he sits across from Essex, hands cuffed to the desk, that in hindsight, this had perhaps not been one of his better ideas.

He refuses to admit it as he controls Erik’s mind, preventing him from lashing out and making him close his eyes to the nightmare unfolding in front of him. He refuses to admit it as he gets shoved into the back of a black pickup truck, and the butt of a gun is smashed across his forehead hard enough to knock him out cold for a few hours. He refuses to admit it when he wakes up what appears to be hours later in a cold interrogation room, hands cuffed to the table in front of him, with a suppression collar rendering his mind dark and almost achingly silent.

- from from the land of gods (bring me home). i’ve been struggling w this fic a lot (it didnt come as easily to me as the first one did) but its getting there. also i put charles through hell in this rip sorry mister xavier

9.

In the aftermath, both of them stand at the border of the mansion. The air feels frigid, slicing into Raven’s lungs like a thousand paper cuts. “Charles, please,” she begs, heart in her throat and voice hoarse. “He wouldn’t want you to be like this. He wouldn’t want you to do this. It’s not too late, you can come back.”

Charles gazes back, a brick wall. He hasn’t even cleaned up, still in that damnable yellow and blue suit with blood drying in the corners of his mouth, the bridge of his nose. There’s nothing in his eyes- blank, almost see through. He looks as if he’s a mere shade, a ghost lounging about where he once was. Raven knows better.

“I will raze the world to the ground,” he finally says, his voice free of any inflection, “and when I’m done, no one will be left standing. Not you, and certainly not me.”

- from where all the poets went to die, a dark fic based on what would have happened if moira had killed erik with the bullets. its the first time ive written dark charles and it was v fun if im being honest

10. 

Charles is a light sleeper. It’s a trait that stays with him- all the way from his father and the tests to taking care of his mother to Cain Marko and his fists to Cuba and then now, the dust of Washington settling over him and making the waking world lie an inch beyond his eyelids. It therefore stands to reason that the second the windowsill creaks he’s up in a shot, hoisting himself up and lashing out with his telepathy instantly.

That’s not a trait that had stayed with him. That’s a newly formed trait, bitter and bold, carved into existence by Cuba by his students disappearing one by one in Vietnam by the letters that announce Sean’s death in black unfriendly print by-

The tendrils of his telepathy forged cold and distant meet a barrier and recoil, stunned. He focuses his eyes and then widens them, staring at Erik who stares back, hidden beneath that infernal muddied magenta helmet of his. They stare at each other for a moment before Erik clears his throat.

- from in the valley of kings (you will come home). my first ever cherik fic! im actually also proud of this one even if i ended it horribly and half my mutuals refuse to read it bc of how it ended LMFJGJGJ. i cant believe this was supposed to be a funny and cute kid fic and then i turned it into an angst ridden mess. also leo is actually an oc whose adult version is fancasted as charlie rowe by me and another mutual on twitter and im v proud that readers are willing to die for the baby

11. 

Mike has to google it, finding a crafts shop nestled into the corner of the street right smack in the middle of Louisiana, past a long and winding dirt road and the crumbling farmhouses relics of a time long past. The air is hot, humid, sticking to the back of his neck like an unwieldy parasite as he pushes the door of the shop open to the sound of the bell tinkling above.

He finds the origami paper quickly enough and has a momentary breakdown about what Bill’s favourite colour even is- he had never thought to ask him. Twenty seven years of following every single footstep of his like a dedicated, most definitely creepy stalker, three months of more than a few states traversed with Bill’s laughter now echoing in his ears like a shadow that trails after him, and this is what stumps him. It takes ten minutes, but he finally settles on light green.

- my first and last entry into the IT fandom bc i love these two but to be very fair there isn’t much content out there for him (and twitter content actually intimidates me lmfjgjjg) a thousand paper cranes never got much traction either but i suspect its bc i was horrible at promoting it. also i very much love this fic even if it never did that well bc ive always wanted to write a fic like this after watching the movie in cinemas in 2019

12.

ok nsfw i guess 

Mornings start like this- Eggsy snuffling into David’s neck, attempting to work his way back up to wakefulness as David sleeps the sleep of the dead, the streams of morning sunlight gradually lightening up the room. It’s a while before he gets the energy to sit up, pushing an eager V off the bed- V for Vendetta, a kitten named after one of David’s favourite movies that they’d adopted about a month after moving in together- before stumbling to the loo. He’s already in the shower when David comes in, naked as the day he’s born with his arms entwining themselves around Eggsy’s waist as he murmurs a sleep-soft, “Good morning, love,” as he presses a kiss into the two-days-old hickey on Eggsy’s shoulder. His breath smells of toothpaste, the minty fresh kind he insists on buying from Target no matter how much Eggsy insists that the other brand is much better. Without fail, Eggsy always has a split second thought of thinking that he must truly be in heaven because no way can this be his reality, every single day, before sinking to his knees and allowing David’s cock to hit the back of his throat.

- from that’s the kind of love i’ve been dreaming of. i genuinely wish i had an opinion for this but i don’t remember writing this its been way too long

13. 

The first time Eggsy sees her is in Trafalgar Square.

Trafalgar Square is uncomfortably packed on any normal day, but on New Year’s it is quite the hothouse. Sweating armpits and hot bodies plastered against each other, the twinkling lights overhead providing a flash of blue and green and yellow and red, screaming children and giggling teenagers shoving their way through- it’s a recipe for disaster. Eggsy doesn’t know how he ends up there. It happens sometimes- one second he blinks, sequestered in the comfort of his living room, and the next he’s somewhere else, as if he’s been teleported. “Life goes past you,” Tilde had said once, “and you don’t even notice.” Tilde would be right.

- this is a roxy and eggsy friendship centric fic that i abandoned bc i lost my ardor for this world about the same time i got into xmen lmfjgjg. all the king’s horses also had some great fancasts in it with dev patel fancasted too... rip ig

14. 

once again, nsfw

Eggsy, truth be told, doesn’t actually like having sex in bathrooms. First of all, bathrooms generally have an unsanitary air about them. Besides that, the granite of the sinks always feel cold against his hips, there is the ever present fear of being walked in on and unlike what people might say, he actually really isn’t that much of an exhibitionist- and truth be told, he’s never liked the look of himself in the mirror mid coitus.

For David Budd, however, he suspects he might be up for anything.

- from do you ever dream of me. im actually proud of this fic and this series, i never usually write straight up porn or friends w benefits and i think it worked well in here. once again didnt get much traction but that was very of the norm for my kingsman fics lmfjgj

15.

It is on his fifth meeting with the therapist on site that she brings the issue up. The elephant in the room- or the bomb , David thinks morbidly. If asked, he can’t remember specifics about that day now. All he remembers is this- the burn of Julia’s picture in his wallet against his thigh, the Botticelli painting on the far wall and Miss Paulson’s face, severe and unsmiling.

“When you couldn’t reach Julia,” she says, after he finishes describing the feeling of running to Julia, the panic searing his chest as he’d prayed for his legs to work faster so he could do something, anything to reach her hand. “How did that make you feel?”

- from your haunted social scene. i genuinely... do not remember anything about this either helpfkjgjg,,, this has 55 comments tho which. Nice

16.

David brings her home on- in a move far too cliche for it to be reality- a stormy night. It’s in fact storming so hard the windowpanes shudder like leaves in the wind, droplets crashing against the glass in a cacophony so loud Eggsy more than once considers turning the radio all the way up to drown it out. He’d gone scrounging for David’s sweatshirts instead of his own halfway through, wincing intermittently at the flashes of thunder. At a particularly loud one JB had jumped up, squeaked in a very undoglike manner and skidded across the floor to cower beneath the sofa, only coming out when coaxed by Eggsy to do so. Officer Oatmeal had watched the proceedings from her regal place by the armchair, dozy eyed and blinking heavily.

- from a cat named lavender. from what i remember this was also my first try at bringing up trans eggsy

17.

He first appears at the black prince on a cold Monday evening, eyes like Frank Sinatra and lips arresting anyone’s gaze if they weren’t careful enough. He stood out too, clad in a respectable bomber jacket and boots that clicked against the tile rhythmically and loudly, a sort of organised, measured cacophony.

“Go and serve him,” Andrew said, fat and disinterested, seated behind the counter and idly flicking through bills, less than ten percent of which he pays Eggsy. “I’m busy.”

- from trust is left in lovers after all. i never continued this which is sad bc this did get a lot of attention... it was just v hard to keep the story going

18.

It usually rains cats and dogs in London but for some reason, the rain is heavier than usual today. The droplets splatter against the windows in a constant buzzing rhythm, the sound meshing together in a melody not altogether pleasant to the ears. It’s half past five and yet the light has to be kept on because that’s how dark the sky has gotten- thunder rolls like a loud crack, abrupt and deafening, causing Daisy to jump in her seat.

“Just a thunderstorm, flower,” Eggsy says. They’re seated at the dinner table, Eggsy going over her homework while David sits opposite them, hunched over his laptop as he attempts to finish a post mission report. Eggsy is half convinced he gave up ten minutes ago- he’s got his earbuds in and he hasn’t really typed anything in a while, eyes focused on the screen. His eyebrows are scrunched up in a glare that’s too adorable for his own good- and for Eggsy’s.

- from could feel like kryptonite. a lot of my kingsman fics are actually so much happier than my cherik ones... i should prob look into that rip

19.

“When you’re done lazing around you can come in, you dozy dog,” he tells Officer Oatmeal, who butts her nose into his knee. She’s the only one not on a diet in the house, Eggsy deeming her far too healthy and skinny to need one anyway. In fact, she’s under strict instructions by Eggsy to fatten up instead.

Once the animals are done feeding- Eggsy sporting a suspicious scratch on his left forearm- they settle down to eat their scrambled eggs and toast. David’s taken a large gulp of his scalding coffee when Eggsy says, all of a sudden, “So, I have a school reunion.”

- from gonna set this dance alight. don’t remember much about this either tbh

20. (the last one FINALLY)

It isn’t a big event or explosion that makes David realise he wants to see his father’s ring sitting pretty on Eggsy’s index finger. No teary confessions in the rain like in the rom coms Eggsy loves to rent out and sniffle his way through, or a fight that makes David see sense. In the end, it’s breakfast that cinches the deal for him.

The day had started out normally enough. David wakes up at eight like clockwork, the soft downy hair at the base of Eggsy’s neck tickling his nose with his arm locked tight around his waist. He’d yawned, exhausted- mostly because they’d stayed up very late into the night making good use of the bed- before standing up and shucking his shirt off to head for the shower. Eggsy had shifted in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible, and the sight had been too endearing to resist so he’d bent down, pressing a kiss to his forehead and smiling when Eggsy groaned out loud.

- from lover boy rules. i actually started a lot of my kingsman fics in the same way which is rather awful of me. im glad thats changed with my xmen fics lmfjgjk. also this has 15 comments???? i dont even get that much attention with my xmcu fics these days... which is arguably a more active fandom... Hello

anyway that’s the end of it needless to say i do not know 10 other authors so im just gonna tag whoever i know rn: @hellfre , @queerneto, @ikeracity, @drinkingstars, @zebraljb

#whew this is super long i apologise #u can pinpoint the exact time i replaced taron with james as my number one boy #fic tag #fic meme

[runnfromtheak]

fanfic author’s tagging game (yay!)

Thank ya darling for tagging me!!!! @boyblunder-thedarkheir!!!!!

AO3 Name(s): LostandLonelyBirds aka RUNNFROMTHEAK

Fandom(s): Primarily Batfamily (so, Dick Grayson) and Young Justice (along with DCU obviously, but I also dabble into Miralculous Ladybug, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter, and MCU (none of which I will ever seriously write for? Idk man).

Number of fics: 22 I will admit to (how do you have so many, my dear @boyblunder-thedarkheir​? What is your secret?)

1. Fic you spent the most time on: Are we talking writing or thinking about writing, cause those are two very different answers. I spent the most time writing this bitch of a fic I’m working on right now, and the most time thinking about the two latest installments of my main series, Death is But An Illusion (aka How Could He and How Could It Be). I agonize over every goddamn detail with Dick’s anger, Jason’s Jason-ness, and every person’s every move and word. I am a mess, and I’m going to be murdered if I don’t update them soon. I am not sorry about that XD

2. Fic you spent the least time on:  You Came Behind Me Secretly and Shattered Every Piece of Me (There's Blood On My Hands) aka my pick-your-own-canon clusterfuck of Dark!Dick Grayson and Dick Grayson being traumatized and tortured with no comfort (Some of them are so fucked up I question my own mind). I take less than an hour to write 80% of them, cause they’re short, and they very rarely take any time to plan. Fun and easy!

3. Longest Fic: At present, he had a chest full of heart and a body full of scars (pain became the only way that he could ever learn)  is my longest, but the fic I’ve been hinting at on my other tumblr, @lostandlonelybirds​ is easily double the length (why do I do this to myself? Why am I like this?) the long boi (named one, not the one I won’t shut up about) is easily my best fic at the moment, and I’m so excited to write a sequel whenever I get the chance.

4. Shortest Fic: With Bated Breath and Pain You See (We're Nothing More Than Memories) technically, I have one shorter than that, but it’s a collab that wasn’t my original idea so I’m not counting it :)

5. Most Hits: You Came Behind Me Secretly and Shattered Every Piece of Me (There's Blood On My Hands) why do you people like this trash-fire so much? I don’t understand

6. Most Kudos:  How Could He which does not surprise me.

7. Most Comment Threads: Technically, How Could He followed by the trash-fire AU title thing I’m too lazy to type again, but I’m gonna love on this one: Just Close Your Eyes (No One Can Hurt You Now) because it’s my baby, and it deserves it okay?

8. Fave Fic You Wrote: Ooo we are doing a top five.

             5. How Could It Be (Jason is precious and sad and Dick is oblivious, and I love one-sided pining wayyyy too much)

             4.  How Could He (I put my life force into this stupid fic, so ofc it’s here)

             3. I'm Scared to Live But I'm Scared to Die (I'm Numb Inside) (the suicidal boy, major trigger warning)

             2. I See Things That Nobody Else Sees (And It's Slowly Killing Me)  (the only fic I’ve ever written from Cass’s perspective, and definitely one of the creepiest and most fucked up. Bruce does not look good here)

             1. he had a chest full of heart and a body full of scars (pain became the only way that he could ever learn) (so ummm Bruce doesn’t look good here either? RHATO #25 if DC wasn’t cowardly and let Dick react how he actually would, aka fuck Batman is the new motto)

9. Rewrites?: Fuck. All my older ones? Everything? Who knows.

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning:

Let’s do two. I’m nice.

First comes from How Could It Be:

“You loved him,” Donna says, ignoring his barb. “You loved him, and no one’s seen you or heard from you and I’m concerned, damnit.”

 She punches his shoulder roughly, and he’s reminded of her strength, no matter how small she seems in her dead best friend’s sweater.

 “I’m fine. Peachy-keen. Couldn’t be fuckin’ better. Honestly, you should be more concerned with Replacement, don’t think he’s slept in—”

 “Jason.” Her voice is firm, even as her eyes swim with tears and she holds her arms tight to herself, breathing in the well-loved item’s scent. Jason wonders when Dick wore it last, if Donna had taken it from his abandoned Gotham Penthouse or his Chicago Apartment. He wonders if he’d left it draped over the couch, like the natural disaster he was, or if it had been folded neatly in a drawer.

For someone who prides himself on not being sentimental, Jason suddenly wishes he had something of Dick’s too.

 “I’m here because I care, and because if Dick was here, he’d be doing the same thing I am.”

 “But he ain’t here,” Jason snaps, “Is he?”

 Donna’s head falls, and he feels like a giant jerk. He just… reacts poorly to that name, hasn’t heard it spoken since the transmission and subsequent funeral, since the guy he’d had the hots for since wearing the scaly panties had his mask ripped away and his life taken in front of Bruce’s eyes (who, to absolutely no one’s surprise, failed to save his son).

In the aftermath, no one said Dick Grayson’s name, always Nightwing, or some inane nickname the superhero community had for him. Last time he said it was to Damian, a failed attempt at comfort. But even Jason’s form of mutual grieving had been better than any of Bruce’s shit ideas. Bastard immortalized the ripped costume from his own son’s corpse (not that it had been the first time) and hadn’t even had the decency to give it a plaque (No ‘Good Soldier’ or ‘Good Son’, just a bare glass case with a bloody suit). Which… was weird. Jason was far from B’s best friend, but even he noticed something seemed strange, off, just not quite right. Like the funeral he didn’t speak at, like the breakdown none of them had witnessed beyond a one-off rage fit

“B, what the fuck happened down here?”

The Batcave was a disaster, dents glaringly obvious in several vehicles and a large spiderweb crack across the Batcomputer. Bruce closes the screen down, but Jason manages to catch a spiraling eye.

“Nothing, just…”

Bruce looks at the spare Nightwing costume none of them had taken down yet, still clean and ready for use (too bad its owner died and would never wear it again).

“Dick?” Jason questions, and the way Bruce’s eyes snap to his face is almost suspicious, almost enough to arouse concern.

“Yes. I—”

Jason sits next to Bruce on the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I miss him too, Old Man. Don’t mean you need to be an ass about it.”

 A memorial next to Jason’s own, but Dickhead’s is empty and broken from Damian’s fists and grief, and Jason’s is just gone. No one told him why, it was just gone.

Kind of like Dick.

He wonders if Bruce would have told him if the video hadn’t been broadcast, if he would’ve told anyone. B did love his fuckin’ secrets.

 “No,” she whispers, and he can hear the tears in her voice, can feel her grief as keenly as his own. It’s palpable, tangible, “He’s dead, and I’m alive, and I don’t know how to handle it.”

 And then, to Jason’s mounting horror, she starts crying openly.

…..

Second comes from my one I’m working on rn with Stray!Dick called I See Sunset In Your Eyes (I Hate This Part Right Here)

“Come on,” Wally says with a pout, dragging an overly amused Jason and Dick with him through the karaoke bar doors. “Donna and Roy are waiting for us, and Dick had to take forever to primp.”

 Dick shrugs with a grin.

 “Beauty takes time, time I can tell you did not take.”

 Jason snorts, and Wally glares at him.

 “At least I don’t take five hours to finish getting ready.”

 “At least I can last longer than five minutes.”

 “Ouch!” Roy butts in, throwing an arm around Jason and Dick’s shoulders. “Claws are out tonight!”

 “Speaking from experience?” Jason asks, eyebrow raised.

 Dick smirks without comment, sauntering past the group towards the table Donna’s lounging at.

 “Hey gorgeous twin of mine,” He greets with a kiss to her eyes. She smirks, rolling her eyes at him.

 “You’re just stroking your own ego with the twin tacked on, Wonder Boy.”

 Dick bumps his shoulder against hers.

 “Can’t I stroke both our egos?”

 “You can stroke mine,” Wally mutters, turning red when Stray winks at his phrasing. Jason and Roy both facepalm, groaning. “Not what I meant guys!”

 “Why Kid Idiot,” Dick replies, hand on his heart, “I had no idea you could be so forward~!”

 Wally glares, waving over the waitress.

 “Round of shots, on this dick,” he jerks his thumb at Stray, offering up his fake ID. She doesn’t bother checking it, probably because this is Gotham, and they were all in uniform. “Whisky, please.”

 “Trying to get me drunk?” Jason jokes. It is, after all, his first big outing with the Titans for non-mission reasons. Stray had practically dragged him out of the Manor with a wink at Alfred and a middle finger for Bruce, saying that Jason needed to have fun outside of books.

Jason knows better than arguing with Dick Grayson-Kyle when he wants something, Stray trained him well.

 “Of course, Batboy,” Roy replies, “It’s not a Titans outing if Stray is fully dressed and everyone’s sober.”

 Dick shrugs.

 “You’ll have to get some real liquor in me if you want me to do anything like last time.”

 “Last time?” Jason asks, looking to Donna for an answer. Dick snorts. You get near naked one time…

 “Boy Blunder ended up in just his boxers in a dancing cage drunk of his ass. Everyone thought he was one of the strippers, and he made, what, three-hundred dollars in bills?”

 “Five-hundred,” Dick replies proudly, offering the waitress a twenty as she came back with their drinks. “Keep the change, darlin’!” He adds with a wink.

 She flushes, making Jason frown.

 Stray, of course, notices this and elbows Jason.

 “Don’t get jealous, Blue Jay, it’s not becoming.”

 Jason does not blush. He doesn’t, and that’s the hill he will die on.

 “I’m not. On an unrelated note, pass me a shot.”

Jason is the master of changing the subject, Stray thinks sarcastically, passing him a shot and downing one of his own.

 “Five bucks says alley cat blacks out,” Roy says smugly as Dick makes a face, the way he always did with heavier liquors. He glares at the redhead, who shrugs unapologetically.

 Donna eyes them both speculatively, taking a sip of her own drink.

 “Twenty says he gives a lap dance before he blacks out.”

 Roy snorts.

 “I’ll take it,” and to Dick, “Don’t do it, for me.”

 Dick bats his eyes innocently.

 “Lil’ old me? I would never do something so…” He trails a finger down Roy’s chest, making him swallow roughly. “Scandalous.”

 Donna grins victoriously as Roy groans, trying and failing to hide his excitement.

 “I hate you. I hate you both.”

 Tagging whoever sees this, I suppose? 

#dcu #dick grayson #my writing #stray!dick

[noonachronicles]

Everlong Pt. 6

Kwon Jiyong/ G Dragon X Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: mild language

Genre: Hades/Jiyong. Greek God AU. Fantasy.

A/N: Holy crap, I did it. I have an update. I was getting worried there. I’m so incredibly sorry about the wait. 

Update Tag: @kathrynwynterbourne , @astarlitworld, @blue-lungs , @violagoth​ , @un-idntfied , @optimizche​ , @de-gabyconamor​ , @134340-cm​ (I think that's everyone??)

Moodboard by bae @memoiresofaneternaldreamer

There were stars in the sky. Not just a few flickers of light scattered across the dark blanket of atmosphere stretched out overhead. They were not satellites orbiting the earth or airplanes that could be mistaken for the universes slowest shooting stars. Stars, they were unmistakably stars and there were millions, maybe billions, maybe an infinite number of them twinkling above you. You found it impossible to look away. Countless shimmering diamonds attached to a taut dark sheet spread overhead.  

Having spent your entire life in the confines of the city with its light pollution this wasn’t a sight you were at all familiar with and it was absolutely stunning. The banks of the river were black, a dull black like a chalkboard that had been used and wiped clean, never able to get back to its original sheen. Where the trees were lined up one next to the other it was an even darker, bolder black. The visual was bland, the complete opposite of the sky above.

You’d found an uncomfortable position, tucked between the two wooden planks that crossed the width of the boat and acted as benches, but it left for a perfect view. Jiyong sat on the bench nearest your feet. His hand rested on the tiller. He hadn’t at this point needed to direct the boat and the tide was moving quite forcefully down the river. You’d noticed, as he was pushing the boat with you in it into the water, that there were no paddles. When you asked about it he just said that the Styx only flowed in one direction, towards Hades.

As you laid cramped at the bottom of the boat with your head rested on the bench and your eyes skyward, mesmerized by the stars above, Jiyong sat mesmerized by you. He’d been captivated and bewildered by you. While the boat moved over the water his mind raced trying to figure out who you could be. Hard as he tried he couldn’t think of any possible connection  between you and the deities, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there had to be something he was missing. Maybe you were the daughter of a daughter of a daughter of some women one of his brothers or cousins had slept with ages ago. He was convinced there was some tie, you were able to see more than any mere mortal and capable of doing more than you should have been. You fascinated him, and if he was being honest you terrified him. In the comfortable silence of the boat ride he decided that he had to visit the fates, he had too many questions and was sure they were the ones with the answers.

“I used to have friends.” you said breaking the silence after a while, still staring up at the stars. “When I was younger I had a lot of friends. People really liked me.”    

“I’m sure you still have friends,” Jiyong returned, “and I know positively that people like you.”

“No, I don’t. I really don’t have friends.” you confessed and looked over at him, “I thought about it before this. Before coming here with you, I realized that I didn’t have anyone to say goodbye to. Is that sad? Did you have someone to say goodbye to?”

“I don’t have anyone,” he admitted, “except you.”

He could tell you were blushing, even in the dim, silver lighting of the moon. Slightly flustered, you continued on, “I would have said goodbye to you, if it wasn’t you I was leaving with.”

“Since I’m your friend.” he said with a small, very pleased smile. He didn’t know why but that still made him so happy. “What would you have said to me? In your goodbye.”

“Well I would have done it in a letter, because I’m not really good with goodbyes.” you closed your eyes and imagined the way the stationary would look sitting on a desk in front of you. You’d have used the cream colored paper with the navy blue embellishments, and your black ink calligraphy pen. Elegant and a little romantic, you thought, like him. “Jiyong, I...oh this is stupid, I can’t.”

“Please, yn, I’m doing this pretty big thing for you. All I want is this one very small thing from you in return.” He teased.

“You’re horrible.” you groaned, “Fine, I’ll do it but just don’t look at me, okay? Look away.”

“Okay.” He laughed and turned away from you before rolling his eyes lightly as you dramatically cleared your throat.

“Jiyong, I’m going away for awhile. I’m not sure if or when I’ll be back. Just in case I don’t get to see you again, there are some important things I needed you to know.” You envisioned your hand moving across the paper, the words filling in the blank space. Your cheeks burned as you realized the truth of what you were going to say next, “You, uh, you’re my best friend.”

“Not sure I deserve that.” he got the words out quickly.

“Shh,” you hushed, “We may not have known each other for a very long time, but we know each other very well and that’s what matters most. I am a better version of myself when I’m around you, Jiyong. My favorite version of myself. The most honest one. I never have to hold back any part of me when I’m with you because you seem to be able to handle it all. The dark and the sad or the light and playful. You see who I truly am and remain unphased. You’ve given me someone I can put my trust in and spill my guts to. You make me feel unjudged. You are a good man, one of the best, and I’m happy when we’re together. I just wanted you to know how important you are to me before it’s too late. I wanted you to know that I love you.”

Everything around you fell silent except for the rush of the river and the sporadic smack of water against the boat. You couldn’t even hear your own breathing, you weren’t sure that you had been. With your bottom lip between your teeth you looked over at Jiyong. He was still looking out over the water, leaving you with the perfect vision of his profile showered in moonlight. You noticed the silhouette of his prominent adam's apple as it bobbed in his throat, but that’s the only movement you could see. Other than breathing he was a sculpture. A beautiful sculpture that made your chest tight if you stared too long, so you had to turn back to the sky.  

You cleared your throat again, ‘“That was it.”

There was no acknowledgement as he remained silent and unmoving. You focused on the stars to distract yourself from the growing regret you’d felt following your confession. Just above you the stars were still plentiful but you noticed as your gaze moved across the sky in the direction the river was moving they were beginning to peter out. Dulled by the lighting of the sky as it moved from its deep indigo to a lighter royal blue. You sat up in the boat to get a better look at the sky changing color. Near the horizon you could see something glowing bright with oranges and yellows, lighting up the sky around it. Your heart started to race figuring that you were getting close to Hades. Fear was building with the image that it really was just built out of flames and stone and filled with screams of torment. Panic started to set in and you knew this was not the time for Jiyong to give you the silent treatment, you needed him.

“If you don’t say something right now… I’ll take it back. Everything I said.” you threatened hastily.

Finally there was movement as he rubbed his face with his hand and turned back towards you. As your eyes met you had to keep yourself from letting out the long satisfied sigh of relief you knew was locked up at the back of your throat. You couldn’t tell just by looking at him what was going on in his head and it was making your mind race. In his eyes there was sadness but you could see the joy in them as well and you were left not knowing what any of it meant.    

“I-” he stopped as quickly as he started.

“What?” you asked as he just kept looking at you, “You’re being weird. Don’t, don’t make it weird.”

“Thank you, for what you said.” he said quickly and shifted uncomfortably on the seat, the wood creaked slightly beneath him.

You wanted to ignore that part of you had wished he might say it back. Even platonically it was nice to be loved, and you’d thought that he might but you’d been wrong before. You didn’t want to admit that you’d been expecting a little more back than just a thank you, but you guessed it would have to do as the sky was getting brighter and you needed to move on to a new conversation.  

“Is everything on fire?” you asked.

His eyebrows scrunched on his forehead, “What are you talking about?”

You nodded your head towards where the sky was bright. “Hades, is that it? Is everything on fire there?”

Jiyong looked over his shoulder to see what you were talking about. He shook with a laugh and then turned back around, an amused smile playing on his lips, “We’re almost to Hades, yes. However, my dear, that is just the sunrise.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. How can there be a sunrise if it’s the underworld? Shouldn’t it always be dark and ominous? Like a cave or something.”

He groaned as if he’d heard the same thing a thousand times before, “Underworld is a misnomer. It’s not just another version of hell. You’re not sucked down into a lava pit in the middle of the earth. It’s the world beyond life. It doesn’t really have anything to do with being under anything. Hades is where everyone goes. The good and the bad. There aren’t a bunch of reanimated skeletons crawling around grabbing at ankles and there aren’t spirits floating around everywhere moaning about how sad it is to be dead. There are parts of it that can be unpleasant but there are also parts that are… not terrible. Once you see it you’ll understand. It’s really quite beautiful.”  

There was something in the way he spoke that reflected a passion in him that you’d rarely actually seen before. Only a handful of times, like when the two of you had shared hour long conversations, usually arguments really, about greek mythology at the bakery. Or, you had to admit, he sometimes looked like that when he told you about how you deserved so much better than Jiho. It was rare, but it was also your favorite thing he did. His eyes seemed to shimmer. His posture changed. Jiyong always looked smug, but when he was passionate he turned inexplicably confident. He spoke with his hands, moving them from his chest and then forward as if offering you a gift. Though he never seemed like he was talking down to you, he only ever offered from his wealth of information.

You smiled to yourself and said, “I’m not really sure where your slightly obsessive admiration for the underworld came from but, if the inside is anything like the outside, I think you might be right.”

“What?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. You pointed over his shoulder.

Growing steadily ahead of you were the walls of Erebos. Easily hundreds of meters tall and longer than you’d even begin to assume. It was black, onyx, with streaks of gold marbled throughout that shimmered in the light of the rising sun like glitter. Every few meters, at the very top of the wall from what you could tell, were spouts releasing steady streams of water that crashed down heavily like waterfalls.

“Are those the gates?” You asked looking a little further ahead.

There was a large opening in the wall. Boats of varied sizes were lined up outside the gates patiently awaiting their turn. Small boats like the one you were in were packed with more people than should ever have fit. Yacht sized boats with just a few people leaning over the bow of the boat to get a good look at what was happening just inside the gates.

With wide, fascinated eyes you caught sight of what looked like enormous frilled-neck lizards. Scales of vibrant greens and blues shimmering all over their bodies, they skittered up and down the gate towers. Once a few boats passed through the gate their neck frills would expand like an opened umbrella and they would emit bright blue flames from their throats that shot across the opening in the wall creating a barrier and causing the incoming boats to stop and wait. You were finding the whole process surprisingly organized.

Circling the sky above the boats were five hybrids. They had the bodies of women with the heads and wings of ravens. Every once in awhile one of them would break from their flight path and swoop down over the boats as if scanning them for anyone out of place. You’d hoped you wouldn’t get to see what happened if they did find someone who didn’t belong. However, you did. After one of the raven women swooped towards a sailboat there was loud screeching and then you watched as she pulled the form from the boat and tossed it from her beak into the air. The body was caught between the beaks of two of the still circling raven women and promptly torn in two, each piece bursting into feathers that showered back down gently into the river.

You gulped and looked at Jiyong who seemed unfazed by the sight. “So, how do we get inside there exactly? I’m a little worried that we’re not...on the list.”

“Don’t worry. We’re not going that way.” He grinned and grabbed the tiller tightly in one hand before turning it. “We’re going this way.”

Jiyong directed the boat towards the giant, solid wall and you turned to him with wide eyes. “That’s not a way, that’s a wall.”

“How much longer?” He asked looking at you with genuine curiosity.

Your nose scrunched, “How much longer until what?”

“Until you actually trust me as much as you claimed you do.”

Sitting back you crossed your arms over your chest. He was being playful but you felt a little annoyed. “Oh, you heard that part? I wasn’t sure you’d actually heard any of what I said. Even though you basically begged me to…”

“You’re upset with me.”

“Not currently, but I will be if you don’t pay attention to where you’re going. We’re about to go right under that waterfall and I don’t have a change of clothes for this trip.”

Jiyong didn’t move his eyes from you and he didn’t change the direction of the boat. It moved closer to the waterfall, closer to the wall, and your fingers twitched anxiously as you watched but you didn’t say any of the snarky comments that were running through your head. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction. He could just soak you both in water and crash the boat, and you’d wait until afterwards to tell him I told you so. You took a deep breath as the bow of the boat inched near the waterfall, just waiting for the splash of water against the dark wood. Instead the water began to part down the center like a set of curtains just before a play.

“- the fuck.” You muttered under your breath as the water spread open even further allowing the boat to pass completely untouched.

As you passed under the fall you reached your hand outside of the boat and beneath the falling water, skeptical now that it was even real. Your lips parted just slightly in awe as your palm filled with the cool, clear liquid. Still fascinated by yet another one of Jiyongs tricks you looked ahead to see one more. The wall which had seemed so solid and impenetrable before had opened into a tunnel. You hadn’t been watching so you couldn’t be sure if the opening had been there all along, hidden by the fall, or if it had opened as you arrived like how the water had parted.

The tunnel gave you a nervous feeling in your gut and for maybe the first time you thought things felt like how you expected them too. It was dark in the tunnel, you could barely see an inch in front of you. There was no way to know what was in the water below you or pitch black that was surrounding you. You’d never been fearful of the dark but this felt heavy and consuming. It was more like a sense of claustrophobia causing your chest to tighten with fear.

Obviously the wall had been enormous in height and length but you hadn’t realized that it was so large in width as well. It must have been since you still couldn’t see the other end of the tunnel even after the opening behind you had closed. You thought for a second to reach out, to hold Jiyong for comfort, the weight on your chest growing heavier with every millisecond spent in darkness. Before you’d even lifted your fingers bright blue flames began to erupt from sconces that lined the tunnel walls. It wasn’t much but it was luminescent enough that you finally found comfort.

Something about the entire situation made you flashback to a weekend you’d spent one summer in elementary school with a friend you’d had. Her parents brought the two of you to some kid centric theme park to celebrate her birthday. You spent more time trying to figure out the mechanics of the rides and how they’d created the fantasy world than you did gawking over cheesy characters. Being in the tunnel made you think of the doors that were hidden in the walls of the rides. Stacks of fake boulders in the Swiss alps or knobby trees in a fairy forest that hid the doors that employees would sneak through to go behind the scenes.

You knew what you were doing. Using the correlation of the two things to cope with how unbelievable this whole thing actually was. Maybe you could just pretend that you were at a crazy Hades themed amusement park. Jiyong was just an employee showing you all the inner workings of the macabre Disneyland. If it got you in and out of the underworld with a sense of childlike wonder instead of ptsd inducing fear, you could deal with being a bit delusional in the meantime.

“You doing okay?” Jiyong asked quietly as you finally caught sight of a beam of light at the end of the tunnel, indicating its end.

“I’m okay. I’m just processing everything.” You looked over at him, face as sharp as ever even in the soft light of the blue flames. “Or maybe more like actively not processing.”

The small beam of light slowly grew into a clear opening in the tunnel. As the boat was about to pass through to the other side, he said, “You know you’re safe here with me, right? I’ll protect you.”

You nodded, if there was one thing you knew wholeheartedly in this very uncertain situation, it was that you were safe with him beside you. You smiled, genuinely, as the sun finally hit your face once more, “I know.”

The boat continued on down a narrow canal with a steep stone embankment. Once you’d gone so far that the wall had almost disappeared from view there was an old concrete dock that lead to a stone stairwell that had been dug into the embankment. Your feet tapped anxiously on the bottom of the boat as you waited for Jiyong to tie it off on the dock. You were ready to get out, ready to see more. Ji got out first and reached a hand into the boat to help you onto the dock.

Once your feet were planted on the dock your hand squeezed his tightly and you gasped. “Oh my god, it’s him.”

Jiyongs eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You sounded like a star struck fangirl. “It’s who?”

“He’s so handsome.” You whispered with big doe eyes.

Now entirely confused, Jiyong turned to the stairway. Cerberus, the beast of a hound, was galloping his way down the steps, excited to see his favorite god had returned home. His cheeks rounded into apples with his smile as he realized you were just excited to see his dog.

“Do you think we can pet him?” You whispered before your face suddenly fell in concern, “Wait, is he gonna eat us?”

Jiyong chuckled, “I don’t think so. He looks friendly enough.”

Your heart was racing as the beast got closer, he was much more than you’d expected. His body was slightly larger than that of a bear, broad and muscular like a bulldog. All three of his hound heads were of different breeds. One was a grumpy looking thing, huge wrinkly face with droopy jowls like a neapolitan mastiff. Thick strands of slobber dripped from his mouth and pooled at your feet as he sniffed at your shoes. Another was much fluffier, but still massive, similar to a leonberger. He was much more friendly, already licking at your face and neck, tickling you all over with his soft fur. The third was actually slightly terrifying. Much more reserved, not getting too close to you, just observing. He had a very short coat with sharp, square features, impressively pointed ears and a thick wide neck.

“Dogo.” Jiyong whispered. The angry looking one turned to him and softened, nuzzling his snout into Ji’s outstretched hands.

“He knows you.” You beamed.

“I...visit often.”

Scratching behind the ears of the closest head you smiled over at him, “I think it’s cute.”

He grinned, still rubbing Dogo’s snout, “We should go soon incase someone comes along. Unfortunately, he can’t come with us, he’ll have to head back to the gates.”

You tried and failed not to pout. “Of course. I forgot he was a working boy.”

“Go on.” Ji said just as Dogo sniffed at your palm and let you pet the top of his head, “Protect the gate. We’ll send treats.”

All three heads turned expectantly towards him at the word and then the massive hounds body was trampling its way back down the dock and up the stairway until he disappeared completely. The two of you followed suit and headed towards the stairs, only much more leisurely.

“Did you like him?”

“Like him? He’s my best friend in the whole underworld. I love him.” you scoffed.

Jiyong’s mouth dropped in shock, “So quickly I’ve been replaced!”

You laughed as you hit the first steps, “He’s not what I expected though. Nothing in this place so far has been what I expected.”

“What were you expecting of him?”

“I don’t know, bigger...meaner. Teethier.”

“Teethier?” he chuckled.

“Yeah. Isn’t he supposed to eat people or something? He should have big scary teeth. That dog never ate anyone!” you argued.  

“Oh, he absolutely does eat people.”

You remained unconvinced, “Are you kidding, he is the goodest of boys. He probably never hurt a fly.”

“He is a good boy, that’s true. However, that beast eats only people. It’s his whole diet.”

You shook your head in disagreement “He didn’t even try to eat us, not for a second, not even the mean one.”

Jiyong rolled his eyes, “Dogs are great judges of character. He didn’t try to eat us because knew he didn’t have to. He knew we were good.”

“Are you saying I’m inedible?” you asked catching sight of the top of the stairs which you were grateful for as you were running out of breath.

He hummed gently before responding, “I mean, I might eat you, but I’m not a dog… which makes me a terrible judge of character.”

“What do you think I’d taste like?” You slowed slightly, a step or two behind him.

“Sweet.” he answered too quickly.  

“That was quick. Have you thought about what I’d taste like before?” you joked.

He hopped down a step and back you against the stone wall that separated the embankment and the stairway. His chest was pressed against yours, one of his hands was on your hip and the other was lifted to his mouth, his finger pressed against his lips as a sign for you to keep quiet. Your mouth had fallen in surprise and as you realized his intent you tried to suck in a breath of air that you hadn’t allowed yourself before. Just beyond the stairwell you could hear footsteps and voices.

“Have you heard anything from him?” one voice asked.

A second voice responded, “Not a single thing since he left.”

“We should have gone for him. This is taking too long, everything is in shambles.”

“Deimos, brother, please. You’re being dramatic and panicking, which suits you...but even still. Everything is fine. The underworld will survive another day without its fearless leader.”

The voices began to fade away after that. You’d been watching Jiyong as he listened to the voices. You argued with yourself that he was in your face anyway and that you might as well appreciate the view. It surprised you that with every word the voices spoke his jaw would clench as if in anger. A red blush grew on the flesh that was nearly hidden by the collar of his shirt. You wouldn’t have noticed it so much if you hadn’t been thinking about how easily you could press your lips to his jaw and his neck. And how if you just lifted your hand and pushed aside his dress shirt you could kiss his collarbone, as it was staring you in the face.

“Often.” He whispered and you snapped back into your body. Your body which was pressed so close to his. He was smiling kindly when you finally met his eyes but you could feel an undertone in his voice that ran through you like an electric current. Your cheeks were a nice rosy shade of pink. “I think about what you’d taste like often.”

“Oh.” The hot air of his breathing fell against your neck and you gulped. “I think they’re gone.”

“I think so too.” He pushed himself away from the wall, away from you, quickly and took the last few steps without turning back.

After a long deep breath you followed. He was waiting for you with his hands in his pockets. Casually, as if nothing had happened between the two of you only moments before.

“Come with me, there’s something I want to show you.” He said and nodded towards a narrow cobblestone walkway.

You followed closely behind him as he walked. He didn’t say anything and you worried that maybe the mood had changed between you. Everything had been fine and now the air was thick with tension. It had been so quick, just a flick of a switch. It left you replaying the short moment in your head on repeat trying to find what you might have done wrong. You’d even half convinced yourself that this was his entire plan. Get you worried and thinking about the charged moment over and over. Thinking about him on a loop like your brain was some broken record and the only song it played was his. As you neared the end of your walk up the steep path you realized that maybe you’d just completely lost your mind in a very short time, because Jiyong wasn’t that guy. He wouldn’t manipulate you. You were pretty sure.

“Welcome to Hades.” he said as you looked up at him, he waved his arm out across the scenic viewpoint he’d taken you too.

You were almost positive you could see everything. The giant wall and it’s open gate. The rivers that cut through the landscape like the veins in your arms. To one side there was a patch of green that looked like it might be a forest and on the other side was a mountain range. It stretched out farther than you would have ever imagined and it was entirely breathtaking.  

You sighed, “It’s...it’s beautiful.”

“I told you it would be.”

“No. I mean it’s really beautiful. You’re sure this is the right place?” you asked.

“You saw the wall, right? And the gate. The boats filled with the dead, you saw that? The dog with the three heads... that didn’t convince you?” he chuckled, amused.

“Yes I did but, shut up and look. Look at this place!” you swept your arm dramatically in front of you, “This place is alive. “

“You seem very surprised by all of this.” he was smirking as always.

“This place is alive. It is absolutely full of life. We’re standing at the top of a town where people are walking around chatting. Look over at the gates, there are people down there working, keeping this place running smoothly. And it’s not just the atmosphere that’s thriving. There are...fucking trees. Living trees, not husks of what were once trees and are now just dead tree trunks. There are green and yellow things. The sky's the perfect shade of blue. There is color here..I saw pink on the walk up here, pink flowers!”

He nodded in agreement, “I know, I’ve seen.”

“How are you not amazed? This goes against everything. Isn’t the whole point of this place that it’s dead? It’s supposed to be dirt and stones, fire and gloom. It’s supposed to be death. That’s the story right? That’s why Persephone is so miserable half the year. And why we have two of the best seasons, fall and winter, obviously. Because eons ago she was dragged here kicking and screaming, ‘I’m an earth child, blah blah blah, I need flowers and fruit and vitamin d’. There’s not supposed to be any of that here. It’s supposed to be desolate and lifeless. Shouldn’t she be here walking around in some black funeral dress, with a lace veil covering her tear streaked face. Her bony little fingers gently touching dead things and being weepy and whiny about it?” You let out a deep, post rant sigh and felt much better.

Jiyong let out a laugh. It was half genuine amusement and half frustration. His hands were clenched in his pockets. All he wanted was to reach out and hold your face in his palms. All he wanted was to press his lips hard against yours. Instead he dug his nails into his palms and looked at you with the wonder you’d been looking at the underworld with. “Amazing. You amaze me.”

“What?” You asked noticing him stare, you shoved his shoulder.  

“I just wish…” he cleared his throat, “I just wish I could show you all of it.”

“Wait, what?” Your forehead creased, “We don’t get to see everything?”

Looking over the vast landscape he spotted a small blip of a landmark in the distance and pointed towards it. “That’s where we have to go. The Judgement Pavilion, it’s a straight shot from here. Maybe half a days walk. There’s no need to visit Asphodel or Elysium, or anywhere else. Not if all you want is to get to Jiho.”

“Well couldn’t we…” you sighed, torn. Or maybe not so much torn, more just feeling guilty that you weren’t torn at all.

“Yes?”

“Could we detour? Couldn’t you show me all that other stuff too?” You asked. “We have time right? It’s not like he’s really going anywhere? He can’t die again. Can he?”

“It’ll take a couple days to circle around, but if you want…I guess I can…”

“Oh please!” You really begged grabbing his shoulders, “I want to see it all. I have to see everything. Please. What are the chances I’ll ever get this opportunity again? Even when I’m dead I won’t get free rein like this.”

“Okay. Okay!” He laughed, he was bubbling with excitement. He thought this whole time that he’d have to convince you to want to spend more time with him and to see the underworld. Here you stood, needlessly begging him to see it all instead. “I’ll show you everything, except the fields of punishment and mourning of course...and there’s nothing for us in Tartarus.”

“No.” You shook your head, “I want to see everything. If you can get us there, I want to see it. All of it, not just the good parts.”

“Why would you want that?”

“When I die, I don’t know where I’m going so... I want to see it all I want to be prepared.” you shrugged.

“You’re not going to the field of punishment.” Jiyong said making a face.

“You can’t know that.”

He was confident in his response, “I do know that. I know you well enough to know, that’s not where you’d go.”

You looked up at him sweetly, “Take me anyway.”

He looked at you for a long time. He really didn’t want to show you anything that might be too...frightening for you. Something that might make you want to leave as soon as possible. The look on your face told him that even if he said no you would find a way to get wherever you wanted to be. With a groan he nodded, “You have to tell me the second you become uncomfortable or want to leave.”

“I promise!” Your face erupted in a smile. “Where to first?”

WIthout a word, only a small smile he reached his hand out. You slapped your palm against his before giving his hand a quick squeeze. He led the two of you back down the cobblestone path and began your tour of Hades.

#kwon jiyong scenario #g dragon scenario #big bang scenarios #Kpop scenario #Everlong

[thecreelhouse]

Kill the Lights // Chapter 6

Steve Harrington x Original Female Character

Read chapter 5 here!

Summary: After Violet- formally 003, a telekinetic, electrokenetic, and clairvoyant 19 year old- loses her first family, her first love, nothing is the same. She finds herself taken in by Hopper and El, struggling to find her footing and meaning to keep fighting. The Party, especially Steve Harrington, try to show her where her strengths have been hiding all along, and that no one has to fight their battles alone. Sometimes you don’t need to be rescued, but someone’s love and support while you rescue yourself sure doesn’t hurt.

Word count: 3,817

Content warnings: PTSD, grieving, mentions of self harm, angst

Author’s note: hey!! Sorry for the gap for the last few days, been real busy with holiday activities and last minute errands. I have up to chapter 7 written (maybe 8?) and I’m hoping to work on it some more before posting again after this. Lots and lots of feelings all around, but I promise there’s more comfort and fluff in this one. Listened to clementine by Halsey on repeat writing this one because I’m a soft, sappy bitch that’s a sucker for characters supporting and caring for one another. Thank you as always to anyone who has read and interacted with this story!! Hope y’all enjoy, and feedback is welcome! Hope everyone has a safe holiday season too!

Chapter 6: clementine

Violet felt herself falling, falling, falling, until she hit a surface with a loud thud.

“Shit!”

Her eyes opened wide as a dull pain spread through her back. She blinked a few times before realizing she was on the floor of Steve’s room; she rolled out of his bed in her sleep, not used to a bed at a normal height after sleeping practically on the floor the last few months.

Her panic quickly changed to annoyance at herself and her clumsiness. She glanced around the room, now darker, and her eyes landed on the clock on the nightstand. The bold, red numbers read “7:13”.

“Good god.” Violet mumbled to herself. She was all tangled about in several layers of blankets and sheets as she tried to get back on her feet. The door flew open, startling her.

“Was that noise you? Are you okay?” Steve asked, panicked. Violet laughed through her nose and nodded.

“I’m fine, sorry. I fell off the bed.” Her arms reached up and stretched towards the ceiling, forcing the shirt she wore to ride up and show more skin. Steve was grateful it was too dark to really see anything, and hoped it also covered the heat rising to his face.

“It’s okay,” He said, gently closing the door behind him. “The kids are all downstairs if you wanna hang out with us. They kept waking me up on the walkie and I didn’t want it to wake you up too, so sorry for leaving you alone for awhile.”

“I slept pretty hard regardless, but uh... thank you. For staying with me earlier before I fell back asleep.” Violet mumbled, quickly and quietly, embarrassed.

“I’m glad to hear you actually slept for once.” He said with a soft chuckle. “Oh, El brought you some clothes. She said she saw how “awful” you looked while trying to find you this morning, and thought you could benefit from some clean clothes.”

Violet’s eyes widened, “She’s getting bold.” She joked as Steve handed her the clothes.

“Her words, not mine! I swear.” He quickly replied before his second statement came out a lot quieter. “You look cute all the time.”

“Shut up, Harrington.” Violet said, hoping the darkness of the room hid her blushing too. “Go, I’ll come down in a bit. Is it cool if I shower first?”

“Yeah, bathroom’s right across the hall.” He replied, and Violet muttered her thanks.

Steve nodded with a small smile, and slipped back out the door. As it was open for a second, she heard the kids loudly laughing downstairs about who knows what. She was quickly growing to really love that sound.

After she showered and changed into the shorts and t-shirt El picked out for her- which, El was right, she really did look awful, and that was putting it lightly- she headed downstairs, finding the Party sitting around and hanging by the kitchen island. Several pizza boxes and soda cans were scattered about.

“Jesus, you sure know how to fuel their wild energies, huh?” Violet joked, looking over at Steve, who was leaned against the kitchen counter, shoving a pizza slice in his mouth. Violet grabbed one as she hopped up on the counter space next to Steve.

“Listen, I’m just trying to feed my kids.”

“Thanks, mom!” Dustin laughed out, and Steve flipped him off in return. Violet laughed as she grabbed his hand and shoved it back down to his side.

“Be nice!” Violet said with a giggle.

“Thank you, Vi!”

“Hey, whoa whoa whoa wait. Whose side are you on?!” Steve exclaimed, feigning offense. Violet shrugged and put on an innocent smirk.

“I dunno what you’re talking about, Harrington. I’m neutral in all of this. Just call me Switzerland.” She quipped back. Steve’s eyes narrowed at her, as she shrugged again.

“You’re gonna get it.” He muttered.

Her smirk only grew, “Oh, I don’t think you wanna play like that.”

His hands raised to the side of her torso, hesitating as he waited for the a-ok to be touched, but as Violet nodded, she also reached her hands out to his, sending a tiny shock of static electricity to his touch.

Steve yelped in surprise more than anything, and it sent Violet into a fit of laughter.

“You shocked me!”

“You were gonna tickle me! It’s self defense and no more harmful than taking fresh laundry out of a dryer, ya’ idiot!” She yelled back, trying so hard to get her laughter under control.

“Ugh, you guys are so gross.” Max groaned, rolling her eyes. Lucas nodded in agreement.

“Coming from the young couple who breaks up every other week, that’s hilarious.” Steve replied back.

“Whatever, still gross.” Mike said, and El nodded this time.

“El, why are you agreeing?!” Violet yelled at the same time Steve yelled, “We’re not even a thing! Just friends!”

“Not yet,” Will muttered, quietly, but not quiet enough. Violet’s arms crossed as she huffed and turned her head away, and Steve rolled his eyes as he took a step away from Violet. The movement almost made Violet frown in response, but she held it back and hid it from the kids.

“Guys,” Violet started, hopping off the counter, and closer to Steve again. Her arm wrapped around his shoulders, but she had to stand on her tippy-toes to reach. “We’re just pals. Stop making things weird. Besides, friends can be silly with one another.”

“Yeah,” Steve chimed in, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as soon as she touched him. “It’s just us being friends. Chill.”

Violet took the chance to her advantage and sent another harmless shock to his shoulder, causing him to yelp again.

“Okay, that’s it!” He yelled, and she ran off into the house as he chased after her. The two of them were too busy playing tag like children to hear Dustin mutter something about how “painful” this flirting was to watch.

“I’ll do it again, don’t come near me, Harrington!” Violet squeaked as she made a lap around the first floor of the house. Her hands made a swift movement at the back sliding door as she neared, and it opened just enough to slide through and out to the backyard.

“This isn’t fair! I don’t have cool powers like you!” He yelled, still chasing her. He ducked out the door and saw her standing a little too close to the edge of the pool.

Violet seemed to notice what he did, glancing over her shoulder for a second, then back his way.

“Don’t you dare. I’ll shock you, idiot. You push me, I drag you in.” She said, half catching her breath and half losing it to more laughter.

“You wouldn’t.” He called her bluff, knowing she was joking anyway. “Who would feed my kids then?”

“We can feed ourselves, thank you very much!” Mike yelled from the sliding door. Steve and Violet turned to see all the kids squished in the doorway, watching what the older teens would do next. Steve turned back to Violet, shrugged, before gently pushing her into the water. Her hands instantly grabbed his arms, dragging him in with her, foiling his plan.

The two came up to the surface, Violet coughing water out while also laughing still. Steve rubbed water from his eyes, still laughing along with her.

“Jerk! Now that shower was useless.” She said, splashing water at him. He swam closer, a little too close, but it didn’t bother Violet, not in a bad way.

“Maybe, but when was the last time you laughed that much?” He replied, voice a little lower than before. Violet looked up at him, and she could swear their faces were moving closer.

“Oh my god, would you two just kiss already?!” Dustin screeched from the backdoor, startling them both.

Instantly, they both noticed how close they were to one another, and swam back a bit. Neither would look at the other, both blushing, and annoyed that whatever was about to happen was ruined.

“I should, uh, go inside and dry off.” Violet mumbled, climbing out the side of the pool. She squeezed whatever water she could out of her hair and clothes before heading to the door. Steve let his head hang back, eyes closed, and sighed in defeat. He wasn’t sure what the hell was about to happen, but he was disappointed the moment was ruined.

He dragged himself out of the pool and headed inside too. The kids all stepped aside, quiet, feeling the awkward energy between Violet and Steve. He was dripping water all over the floor but didn’t care.

“Vi, wait up,” He softly called after her as she headed up the stairs. She turned around, halfway up the stairs.

“What?”

“I... uh... Let me at least get you some dry clothes, alright?” Steve wasn’t sure how to communicate after watching their sweet moment disintegrate before their eyes. Violet looked down.

“Yeah, thanks.” She mumbled, and continued to head back up the stairs. Steve followed, before walking ahead of her to his room. He rummaged through his drawers, trying to find something that could somewhat fit Violet. Steve handed Violet a pair of pajama pants and shirt, avoiding eye contact with her.

“Listen, Vi, I’m sorry-“

“It’s fine, Steve. Really.” She cut him off in a short tone. “You definitely don't need to be involved with a mess like me anyway.”

Before Steve could argue that, she spun around and darted into the bathroom across the hall, slamming the door shut behind her.

Violet turned the lights, fan, and shower on to drown out any noises about to leave her. She tried so hard to hold in the tears, but she felt safer to cry among the noise now.

She had no idea Steve could still hear her sobs on the other side of the door, and it broke his heart.

I should have known better. He thought. She’s still grieving, and I’m being so selfish. God, way to fuck it up, Harrington.

Violet felt terrible. In the moment, all she wanted was to kiss Steve. After the magic faded and reality set back in, she felt horribly guilty for even wanting that. For wanting someone else. She felt like it was too soon to have feelings for someone else.

Amy just died only months ago, and here she was, flirting like a middle schooler with this boy she just met. At least hooking up with that random girl had no feelings involved. She didn’t feel as guilty for that. But growing feelings for someone else, after her partner, her first love, just recently died? It made her feel rotten to the core.

She didn’t trust men, really ever at all. She was hesitant to trust Hopper and the boys of the Party, hesitant to trust Steve. Yet here she is, only a month after really formally meeting him, and is head over heels for this idiot.

Maybe I’m the idiot. She thought to herself.

Violet peeled the soaked clothes from her skin and jumped in the shower, hoping to wash off the terrible feeling that still clung to her tightly. She wanted so badly to give into destructive behavior to forget her guilt, but she couldn’t shake the look Steve gave her the night she revealed her scars.

Hurting herself would only make this whole thing worse, and nothing was worth hurting herself over. But it scared her, fighting the urges off. She didn’t know how to cope with anything negative in life without destroying herself. It might have been her hardest battle yet.

———

When Violet finally finished up and left the bathroom, the house was much quieter than earlier. She headed back downstairs and followed the only soft noises floating from the TV, to find the Party all passed out or almost there while a movie played quietly. There were snack wrappers and junk food bags scattered everywhere among the sleeping kids. Violet smiled to herself at the sight.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, coming up behind her in the hallway. Violet jumped, and moved away from the doorway. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay.” She said, her voice small. “So... guess they invited themselves over for a sleepover?”

“Yeah, they kinda do this sometimes.” He chuckled, running his hands through his hair nervously. “You’re welcome to stay over too, of course, but I totally understand if you don’t want to.”

“Might as well, someone’s gotta help you clean up their mess.” She giggled softly. “As long as you don’t mind?”

“No! No, not at all. I just... didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable from earlier-“

“Yeah about that, Steve, listen-“

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so selfish-“

“You weren’t-“

“I was-“

Violet inhaled deeply, then exhaled, trying to stop the cycle of interrupting one another that they accidentally started. Steve pressed a palm to his head, laughing awkwardly.

“Sorry. You go.” He said.

“It’s not your fault. Or mine. Or the kids.” She spoke fast, trying to get it all out before they started interrupting one another again. But Steve knew to just listen to what she had to say. “I’m trying... so, so goddamn hard to move past this guilt I feel every day for just... existing. It’s so hard. I still feel wrong for enjoying life when Amy was killed for being a part of my life and helping me.”

“You’re not-“

“Wait. Please. I’m not finished.”

Steve clamped his mouth shut, nodding at Violet.

“But this past month, that guilt has lessened immensely, since letting you in, letting El and Hopper and the kids in. And that makes me feel terrible. Like I’m... like I should be feeling guilty still. Like I shouldn’t be moving forward and healing this fast. Like I shouldn’t have found a family so easily, found friends so quickly, found... whatever the hell is going on between us, at all... I know I shouldn’t take life for granted, but I feel like a scumbag for still living while she’s gone because of me.” Violet’s voice shook as she held back tears. God, she was so tired of all of this crying.

“Let’s go outside,” Steve’s eyes darted to the kids in the room, all fast asleep now. “I promise, no pool pranks, either.”

Violet laughed as she felt tears roll down her face before following Steve out the backdoor.

The sky was clear and the moon was bright. Humidity still hung in the air, but not as heavy as earlier. They sat by the side of the pool, Violet crossing her legs. The glow of the light in the water illuminated their faces softly.

“Even if it’s just a friendship-,” She started, breaking the silence after a moment. Her voice was the smallest and shakiest Steve had ever heard it yet. “-I am so fucking afraid they’ll take you too.”

The dam broke again, the tears flowed freely, and instantly Steve reached over to embrace her in a hug.

“I’m not going anywhere, promise. You’re not, No one is. We’re all safe. Even if Brenner is still out there hiding, we have your back. We’d protect you and El till the end, Vi.” He reassured, pulling her closer as she sobbed. She sat curled up in his lap, clutching on tightly like she’d lose him that very second.

“I’m sorry I can’t take away what he did to you and El in the lab, and what he did to Amy when you escaped. We’re all gonna do our best to make sure it can never, ever happen again. You hear me, Vi? You deserve a normal, boring fucking life from here on out.”

The last bit made her giggle through her tears. “A normal, boring life sounds like fucking paradise to me.”

“You got it. I can give you normal and boring. That’s my special ability.” He joked, gently playing with her hair. “Not as cool as all the shit you can do, but it’s something.”

Violet leaned into his shoulder, beginning to calm down.

“Whatever this,” he motioned between the two of them, “is, I don’t want to rush it. Any of it. I’m sorry I got caught up in the moment.”

“I did too. It takes two, y’know.” Violet mumbled, blushing.

“Regardless, I don’t want you feeling guilty for building new relationships with anyone. Not just me. Got it? You deserve to live, Vi.” Steve continued softly. “That goes for the ‘gross’ stuff too, as the kids called it. With anyone. Boy, girl, whoever. Give yourself a chance to experience life with people if it feels right.”

Violet gently nodded, feeling more at ease. She wasn’t sure what turned her luck around, or if the universe was finally looking out for her, but she was grateful to have a friend like Steve in this hardest time of her short life.

Their silence grew and the noises of the warm night fell around them; the crickets sang in a way that Violet never, ever wanted to take for granted or forget. The stars had a soft glow, polka-dotting the sky above. The little luxuries of a normal life. Violet wished the safety in that moment could be saved in her back pocket for rainy days.

Violet’s breathing had steadied, and her tears had slowed, almost to a complete stop. Steve didn’t loosen his hold on her, afraid letting go of her body meant letting go of this moment. He found comfort in her comfort. The way her eyes lit up gazing at the night sky, or how she hummed to herself, content at the noises of the crickets in the distance. The more time he spent with her, the more he caught onto the little details who made up her entire being. There was so much innocence in someone so hurt by a world that didn’t understand her, wasn’t there for her. Steve wanted to be by her side for as long as possible as she rediscovered the good in the world. He wanted to show care and support every step of the way, if she’d let him.

Violet wanted to let him be there for her more than anything, too. Her walls were tumbling down faster than she’d expected. She thought she built them strong enough to keep everyone out and away, keep anyone from getting too close and getting hurt.

Yet, here Steve was, not forcing himself in, not making her uncomfortable, but just letting Violet know he was there if she wanted. He was there if she needed someone, a friend, maybe something more. He wasn’t pushing any of it, but he wanted it to be clear she wasn’t alone in this. She didn’t have to isolate herself anymore.

Violet shifted, with her back to his chest and head under his chin, still sitting in his lap. Steve loosened his grip, arms falling around her hips, not fully letting go. Her hands reached out towards the pool, and as her fingers extended, a small spark of electricity flew from them; the pool light flickered gently before fading out fully. She turned her head slightly to the light above the back door, and narrowed her eyes at it before it followed in darkness too.

“How are you so freakin’ cool?” Steve breathed out, watching Violet as she turned the lights out with her powers. Slowly she let a smile and blush sneak upon her face, and hoped he didn’t catch onto it.

“Now we can see the stars better.” She whispered, leaning back into him again. “The lights were distracting, sorry. I didn’t break them, I swear.”

“I’m not mad about this one bit, Vi.” His embrace tightened around her again as he spoke.

“Can I ask you something?” She questioned, tilting her head up and back towards his. It was a silly way to meet his eyes, but she wanted verbal and visual permission too.

Steve’s eyes landed back down on hers, “I have a slight feeling I know what it’s about... Maybe I can read minds, huh?.” He joked off the seriousness for a second, Violet smirked a bit, but waited before he continued. “But yeah of course. Ask away.”

“What happened with you and Nancy?” She asked, quieter now. Her fingers gently traced random shapes on the skin of his arms around her. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to still. You just carry around this hurt with you, even when it’s pushed to the back of your mind, I still sense it’s always with you. Why?”

“Damn, I was kinda right, but I didn’t realize you were gonna call me out on that too.” He sighed, sadly laughing to himself. “It’s not even really over the break up anymore. That I got over a little while ago, I think. It’s more that I thought I was doing everything right, and it still ended up not being enough. I changed for the better because she helped me see I could be more than some jerk, and it helped me be a better boyfriend too. And it still wasn’t enough for her.”

“That’s not necessarily your fault, though.” Violet said. She had turned her body back around to face his, doing her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach from seeing how close they were face to face. She continued, “From what you and the kids told me, and what I already knew, you became an even better person without her. And a better friend.”

“Yeah, but it’s still a terrible feeling. Pouring your love into a relationship with someone who just thinks it’s all bullshit anyway.” He sighed. “God, I think I still hate that stupid word.”

Violet nodded in understanding, not sure what to say in the moment. She could almost see the breakup as he replayed it in his head. It was frustrating to not only hear him talk about this, but see the heartbreak happen as she sensed his sadness and read his thoughts.

A minute or two passed before she spoke again.

“I mean, the heartbreak is valid. Your feelings are valid. I don’t think you would have grown into who you are right now without it all, though.” She whispered, choosing her words carefully. “I’m not saying you should be thankful Nancy hurt you and walked away the way she did, but you should also give yourself credit for becoming a better person in the aftermath of it all.”

“Thank you, Vi. That means way more than words could express.” He whispered back, hugging her tightly again, and she returned the embrace. Neither fully let go after some time.

The two of them sat, enjoying each other’s company and their small, safe corner of the world around them. It couldn’t last forever, but Violet would do everything she could to remember every detail of it all.

I don’t need anyone, I just need everyone and then some.

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x oc #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington x ofc #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #kill the lights

[darks-ink]

Absurdism Chapter 6

Big fighting scene! Wowie. Spectra is always a fun villain.

Rating: Teen/K+ (a lil swearing, because teenagers, man) Warnings: - Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort Additional Tags: Sibling Bonding, Family Bonding, Alternate Universe - Halfa Jazz AU, Jazz makes friends

[AO3] [FFN] [more Absurdism on Tumblr] First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

---

Chapter 6: My Sister’s Keeper

The new counselor stood outside her office, grinning brightly at the waiting students. Jazz watched her, eyes narrowed, cold air pouring from her lungs.

Something about this new counselor was off. She knew it in her gut, but no matter how she tried, she couldn’t figure out what, exactly, was wrong. Penelope was oddly cheery, yes, and seemed to take the news of ghosts very well. But that couldn’t be why Jazz had such a bad feeling about her, could it?

“Who’s she?” Sidney’s disembodied voice asked, quietly. Quiet enough for bystanders to miss. He hadn’t startled her—her ghost sense had warned her beforehand, as usual.

“Penelope Spectra,” she explained to him, equally soft. “She’s the new counselor.”

“Huh.” Cold fingers wisped over her shoulders, like the ghost was shifting to peek over her shoulders. Like he wanted her protection against Penelope. “She… looks familiar.”

“She does?” That was odd. Penelope couldn’t possible be from Sidney’s time—there was no way she was that old. And he didn’t leave the school, so where else could he have seen her? “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely positive.” He paused for a brief moment, and the two of them watched as the counselor entered her office again, tailing a student. “I just… can’t remember from where.”

“It’s odd either way.” Jazz shifted her backpack onto her shoulders properly, dislodging Sidney’s barely-there touch. “Something weird is going on, and I don’t like it.”

Sidney clicked his tongue, then poked her, gently. “Maybe you should ask Phantom? If your worlds are so similar, surely he’ll know who she is?”

“Yeah, I think I will.” It wasn’t one of their training days, but he wouldn’t be that hard to find. Probably. “I’ll go do that. Thanks for the idea, Sidney.”

“Yeah, no prob.” He patted her on the shoulder, encouragingly. “I don’t trust her either. She’s… dangerous, I think.”

Jazz nodded in his direction. He felt it, too. It was all the proof she needed, really.

She raced home, speeding up the stairs and into her room in record time. Phantom, lying on her bed in his human form, startled visibly.

“Jazz?” he asked, lowering his voice—in case anyone else was around, probably. “What’s wrong? Why are you in such a rush?”

“There’s a new counselor,” she started explaining, hurriedly. “There’s something suspicious about her, I think. Do you know anything about Penelope Spectra?”

Phantom froze. His shoulders drew up, tense.

Then, suddenly, he swore. Loudly.

She started, backing up a step. Or two. Phantom didn’t seem to notice, anyway, caught up in his anger.

“God dammit,” he growled, under his breath. “How could I forget? This is right about the same time as when she came to Casper High in my timeline. Fuck!”

“So she’s bad?” Jazz guessed, feebly. She’d already suspected that Penelope was bad news, but what could’ve driven Phantom to react so explosively? Not even Vlad had brought out such a bad reaction.

Phantom snarled, heaving for breath. His fingers were buried deep in his hair, disappearing in the black locks. His eyes shone bright and green, unnatural and off in his human face.

“The worst,” he finally managed, voice low and grim. “She’s a ghost, feeding on people’s negative emotions. Their fear, especially. She’s a walking nightmare—finds your deepest fears and digs into them. All your worries, your insecurities, your doubts. She weaponizes them, turns your mind against you.”

He scoffed. “And her touch worsens it, as well. She’ll dig her claws into you, and down the depressive spiral you go.”

“Oh…” That was… a lot worse than she’d expected. Why hadn’t Jazz— oh. She’d thought that it was Sidney who kept setting off her ghost sense, but it must’ve been Penelope. Spectra? “We need to stop her, then!”

“We can’t fight her.” He lunged over to her, grabbing her by the shoulder. Shook her a little. “Seriously, Jazz, listen to me. We can’t fight her head-on.”

“So then what?” She swatted his hand off of her shoulder. “You want me to ignore her presence in the school? Let her leech off of everyone else’s fear, worries, doubts?”

Phantom shot her an offended look. The green leeched out of his eyes, returning them to their original blue. “Of course not! Of course we’ll take her out, Jazz, but we can’t fight her.”

“Well, how did you take her out, then?”

“I—” He sighed, then sat down on her bed again. “I didn’t. Not really. I tried to, but she pinned me down. Got her claws in me, and I couldn’t throw her off again. She sapped all my strength away, all my confidence. She would’ve killed me, Jazz.”

“What… what happened?” How was he still here, then? He must’ve won somehow, right? They just had to do that!

The look he threw at her was sad. Sad, and reminiscent. “Jazz saved me. She stormed in with the Fenton Ghost Peeler. Took down Spectra in one hit. With her claws off of me, I got enough sense in me to use the Thermos and catch her.”

“Alright, well— We’ll just have to skip some of that!” They couldn’t use the Peeler—it didn’t work for half-ghosts, and she didn’t trust her parents not to go for them instead of Spectra. But that was fine! “We can’t fight Spectra, sure, but we don’t have to! I can go through the teachers to get her fired, and then— then— um…”

“And then we’ll ambush her,” Phantom finished, his eyes flashing green for just a brief moment. Like courage had flooded back into him. “She won’t be expecting us, not so quickly. We’ll ambush her with Thermoses, catch her before she can attack anyone.”

“Yeah!” She nodded. “We’ll take her out, just like that!”

---

“Mr. Lancer,” Jazz started, softening her posture as much as she could. She needed him to listen to her pleas. “Could I talk to you about the new school counselor?”

“Of course.” He frowned a little, a crease in his brow. “What is wrong, Miss Fenton?”

“I…” She licked her lips, suddenly nervous. Her entire plan with Phantom hinged on her managing this. She couldn’t be too direct, but not too gentle, either. “I don’t think she’s very good at her job.”

“Oh?” The crease in Lancer’s brow deepened. “I assure you, Jazz, she has very good credentials. Lots of praise for her work.”

Yeah, praise no doubt acquired by overshadowing her superiors. The advantages of being a ghost, huh?

“Yes, well— I don’t know, Mr. Lancer. It just seems to me that things aren’t getting better.” She turned her gaze downwards. “Is it really necessary to have her around?”

Lancer sighed, deep and heavy. He looked a little pained, and Jazz felt sorry for doing this to him, but… it was necessary. For the greater good.

If he knew what Spectra was, what she did, he would’ve agreed.

“Things have been hard for a lot of people in this city recently, as I’m sure you know,” Lancer started explaining. “Your parents are no doubt excited about the… the ghosts, but they are among the few. And with the violence, the fact that these ghosts are attacking people in the city…”

“Not all of them,” Jazz interrupted, automatically. She heard it so much at home. How Specter and Phantom were just like all the other ghosts, fighting over territory or whatever. The leading theory changed almost daily, but one thing remained the same; her parents always thought she was as malevolent as every other ghost.

“No, not every ghost,” Lancer agreed lightly, to Jazz’ surprise. He ignored her wide-eyed look. “But enough ghosts are. Even if those other two fight the others off, that’s still worrying to people. Death has always been a scary thing. To know that the dead remain, might come back as ghosts…”

She could imagine. Despite her parents, she’d always been hesitant to believe that ghosts were real. That the dead could come back in the form of malevolence given a physical form.

“I understand,” she told Lancer. “But I don’t think Spectra is the right person for this. Since she started here I’ve seen more and more people getting upset, and hurt.”

Lancer’s eyes narrowed. “You cannot be suggesting that our new counselor is making people feel worse, Jasmine. Of course the number of people upset by what is happening is increasing; more and more we become aware of the ghosts haunting the city.”

“Yes, I get that. But none of the people she has talked to have gotten better.” Jazz carded a hand through her hair, forcing herself to calm down. She couldn’t get too upset. Couldn’t flash her eyes. If she did, there was no way of recovering this conversation, or the plan as a whole. “In fact, every single person she’s met with seemed to have gotten worse. They walk out of her room completely miserable. Surely that can’t be right?”

“No, I would imagine not,” Lancer admitted, slowly, clearly reluctant. “But I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary—no one has.”

She opened her mouth, but Lancer held up a silencing hand and continued. “Although I suppose something might’ve been missed. There has been a lot going on, recently, with the ghost attacks, and the preparations for those. I will keep a closer eye on Penelope, and on the students she attends to. Okay?”

“Yeah.” She grinned, hesitantly. “Thank you, Mr. Lancer.”

“Of course. It’s my job as vice principal to make sure any concerns are dealt with.” He softened visibly, smiling back. “Anything else?”

“No, I’m good.” She grabbed her backpack. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Lancer!”

---

Cold burst from Jazz’ core, and she paused in the hallway. Ran a quick calculation in her head; where in the school was she, and what were the chances that this was Sidney?

Low, she decided, and turned around to look for the spectral intruder.

Mr. Lancer stood next to Spectra, talking in front of her office. Her assistant—apparently ghostly counselors had those—stood next to her, an unhappy expression on his face.

Wait. Was she getting fired?

Yeah, it definitely seemed that way. Well, shoot. She needed to get out there with Phantom and a Thermos immediately.

She rushed off, speeding towards an abandoned part of the school without seeming suspicious. Cold wisped from her mouth again on the way, and, hoping, she asked, “Sidney?”

“You’re in a rush,” he replied, and she thanked her lucky stars that it was him. “What’s going on, Jazz?”

“Spectra’s getting fired,” she said, as rushed as she was feeling. “I need you to find Phantom and tell him.”

“Yessir.” The cold feeling left almost as soon as he’d said it, and Jazz continued on. She just hoped they were quick enough. Surely Spectra would hold off for longer? She wasn’t much of a fighter, was she?

Jazz ducked into an abandoned bathroom, pulling on her core the moment the door closed. Hurry hurry hurry.

Light flashed and she went from walking to flying in one smooth step, phasing through the walls. Belatedly she turned herself invisible as well, racing back towards the front of the school.

No Spectra, and no assistant. Where could they have gone? She went further up, hoping to spot the two, dropping her invisibility along the way.

Her ghost sense went off again, and she jerked. Sidney became visible, Phantom right on his tail.

“Oh,” she said, extinguishing the ecto-blast she didn’t even realize she had formed. “Thanks for getting him, Sidney.”

“Yeah, no prob.” He nodded to her. “I’m leaving. Good luck with the counselor, Jazz.”

He flew off before she could reply. In his wake, Phantom started peering around.

“I don’t know where she went,” Jazz admitted. “I had to go pretty far away to find a quiet spot to transform. Now what?”

“I’m… not sure.” Tension was clearly visible in Phantom’s shoulders, the tight coiling of his muscles. “We need to find her before she—”

A scream.

Both she and Phantom whirled towards the sound. Without discussion they both knew what to do, speeding towards it.

The street was filled with panicking people, screaming and shouting and— and all kinds of chaos. A bright green ghost bounced around, keeping the crowd from escaping. It was almost like a fluid, how easily it changed shapes. From a shapeless blob to a wolf to a ninja and then back again.

And, above it all, the ghost in charge. Entirely black, appearance flickering unsteadily like flames, bar her terrifyingly sharp talon-like fingers. Her eyes were the only points of color; bright red like embers, and completely empty.

Spectra, and her assistant, Bertrand.

“Fuck, we’re too late,” Phantom swore, dropping to a roof nearby. Neither of the ghosts had seen them yet. “There’s no way we can get them in a Thermos now; the fear of those people is making Spectra too powerful.”

“So now what?” Jazz hissed back, hunkering down as well. “I thought we stood no chance in a direct fight?”

“Well, we have no other choice.” His bright green eyes darted to her, then to Spectra, and then down to Bertrand. “We need to free the civilians, but if we focus exclusively on them, Spectra will slaughter us. I’ll distract her, you get Bertrand.”

“What? Phantom, I thought she was—”

“Dangerous? Yeah, but I’ll stand a better chance than you.” He grabbed her shoulder, shooting her something that was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. “Get Bertrand, and then we’ll get Spectra together. It’ll be okay—I’ve fought her before.”

“And lost,” she said, but he’d already turned around and, in that moment, kicked off from the roof.

God, was her actual brother as bull-headed as this version, or was that a half-ghost thing?

No point in fighting it, now. The only thing she could was take out Bertrand as quickly as she could.

She dove off of the roof, towards the crowd that Bertrand was circling. Above her, she heard Phantom yell out.

“Hey, Spectra! Thought you were more of the prying type? What happened, huh?”

Bertrand paused where he was circling, looking up towards Phantom. Jazz risked a glance as well; Phantom had paused near Spectra, but out of her reach.

The other ghost scoffed, cocking her head at Phantom. “Shows what you know, hmm? What is the point of spending such efforts acquiring bits of negative emotions when I can just knock them free in one go!”

Jazz twisted in her dive, angling herself slightly. Bertrand was still staring up. Just a little more…

She hit the ghost with an enormous impact. Wrapped her arms around his waist—or what passed for his waist—and physically dragged him away from the crowd. They screamed and yelled as she sped past, but she ignored it.

Bertrand growled, becoming almost liquid-like in her arms. Slipped out like it was nothing. He landed back on the ground, shifting into a wolf-like appearance. Bared his teeth at her.

Jazz landed as well, boots noiselessly touching down. Golden ecto-blasts formed in her hands with a mere thought.

“Oh, look at the little ghost girl,” the wolf taunted, through its sharp teeth. “Do you really think you stand a chance?”

She stamped down on the self-doubt. Don’t listen to him. Don’t worry about it. Just do your best.

The first ecto-blast went flying, but Bertrand dodged easily.

“What’s this?” he continued to jeer, landing easily. “Can’t find your words? Do you know, deep inside, that you really can’t win?”

“Got better things to do than listen to your idiocy,” she snarled back, firing two more blasts. Bertrand’s form loosened like slime, easily twisting around the two blasts.

“Is that so?” His voice was as slimy as his body, his words as sharp as his teeth. “Like attend to your floundering grades? Or perhaps engage with all those friends of yours? Ah, or were you planning to spend more time with your oh-so lovely parents?”

She growled, firing two more blasts. This time, however, she sped in after them.

Bertrand dodged the two orbs of golden energy, twisting to smirk in her direction. In the direction where she’d been.

Jazz crashed into him at full speed, released another ecto-blast directly against his center. It exploded, the blast of energy knocking them apart again.

They both rolled over the street, and Jazz groaned. Alright, maybe that didn’t quite work out as planned. She pushed herself up on her hands, glancing over to Bertrand.

Gone.

Uh oh.

The green wolf crashed into her with force, straight towards one of the buildings lining the street. He’d probably planned to pin her against the wall, but she turned herself intangible—and him as well.

A bounce over the hard tiled floor. She tried to continue the momentum in a roll, but Bertrand pinned her down, paws on her wrists.

“You think you’re such a hero, don’t you?” he jeered, sharp teeth inches from her face. His breath stunk of ectoplasm; copper and citrus. “Such a mature little girl, saving the town all on her own?”

She kneed him right in the leg. Bertrand sunk down, and she pushed him off the rest of the way. Rolled up into a crouch.

“You’re an idiot if you think I’m alone,” she snapped back, reaching for her Thermos while Bertrand was down. “The two of you aren’t the only partnered ghosts in this city.”

Bertrand shifted back into his base form, lunging for her with arms outreached. This time she was ready for him, however.

The Thermos whirled to life, its blue vortex catching one of Bertrand’s arms.

“No!” he yelled, twisting around himself like he was trying to wrench himself free. “You— You two stand no chance against her!”

Jazz opened her mouth to snark back, but realized, too late—

It was a distraction.

The ecto-blast, as green as Phantom’s, hit her right in the chest.

She crashed back against the wall. Her head cracked against the hard surface, and her vision blackened briefly. Pain wracked through her, sharp and piercing.

Her core thumped in her chest. She could taste the ectoplasm in the air decreasing. Bertrand might’ve landed a last hit, but he hadn’t gotten away.

Her core thumped again.

Jazz jerked where she sat, opened her eyes—when had she closed them? Her hands clawed towards her chest, to the steady thumping.

She caught sight of her clothes—the long black sleeves, bare hands, blue jeans. The tension leeched out again, a brief sigh of relief.

The thumping wasn’t her core at all. It was just her heart. Its pounding echoed in her head, a dull thrum.

No time to rest, though. She had taken out Bertrand, but Phantom was gonna need all the help he could get to take down Spectra. She could deal with the headache—and the other pains—later.

Light flashed as she shifted back to Specter, the blinding light briefly aggravating her headache. The Thermos laid still in the center of the room, and she dragged herself back over to it. Swept it off the ground easily, capped it, put it back on her belt.

“And now for the really bad one,” she said. Her stomach twisted. She didn’t want to, but she had no choice. She had to. It was her responsibility. Phantom was relying on her. Amity was relying on her.

A door creaked, and Jazz startled out of her thoughts.

Danny stood in the opening, blue eyes large, sweat beading over his skin. Was this her actual brother? He hadn’t seen, had he?

“Specter!” he shouted when his eyes landed on her. “You need to get out there! The other ghost, he needs you!”

That was a yes on the brother thing, and a no on having seen her shift. Good.

Wait.

“Shit,” she swore, pushing off the ground. What they really needed was… “We need more firepower!”

She phased through the wall, back into the open air. The street had been abandoned, all civilians having fled when she had drawn Bertrand away. Spectra had pinned Phantom against a building, green energy coiling around them. She couldn’t tell whose it was.

A blast of golden energy knocked Spectra off of Phantom as Jazz sped in closer. “Get away from him!”

“What’s this?” Deep black shifted like flame, the pits of red turning back to Jazz. Spectra grinned at her, and Jazz could feel the shivers crawl down her spine. “Come to offer yourself up as well, little girl? Thought you could succeed where he can’t?”

“We’re a team,” she growled back, pouring as much energy into her fists as she could. “I don’t need to be better than him at all.”

“Oh, please,” Spectra chattered, a tone like laughter in her voice. “Like either of you really—”

A green explosion knocked her out of the air entirely. Spectra crashed down on the street, leaving Phantom hovering in her place.

“She really doesn’t know when to stop talking,” he growled, the last traces of ectoplasm misting away from his hand. His eyes flicked away from their opponent and to Jazz, briefly. “Are you okay?”

Not really. Her head was killing her. She hadn’t felt such pain since the accident.

“I will be,” she said instead of expressing any of that. “I got Bertrand in the Thermos. We just need to deal with her.”

“Yeah, easier said than done.” Phantom’s eyes had locked onto Spectra again, and Jazz followed his sight. She was rising off of the ground already, and her glow remained strong and steady.

“Keep your distance,” Phantom continued, not looking away. “We’ll have to keep circling, make sure she can’t get her claws into either of us. Rely on your ecto-blasts.”

“Gotcha.” She nodded, pulling her legs together in a spectral tail. Coiled herself up for the dive.

Phantom nodded as well. Dove. She followed a step behind him.

When he split to Spectra’s left, she went right. Discharged her first blast simultaneously with Phantom’s.

But Spectra dodged as easily as Bertrand had, lunging towards Jazz. Had identified her as the weaker point, too.

Jazz managed to twist her tail out of Spectra’s clawing reach, but she’d lost all momentum in the process. Phantom blasted Spectra away again, but they had lost the circling already.

“Fuck,” she heard him swear distantly. She was focused on her own core, on the rapidly depleting energy it contained.

She shot an ecto-blast of her own, but Spectra swatted it away like it was nothing.

“Oh boy,” Jazz mumbled, backing away again. Spectra chased her, pursuing at the same speed as she had.

Another blast of energy—blue?—swung past her, hitting Spectra in the chest. The ghost crashed back to the ground, large crystals spiking from the impact site.

Phantom came up next to Jazz, his presence more comforting than she’d thought it would be. He continued to launch the blue blasts at Spectra. Every blast spread more ice onto the ghost, freezing her back to the ground every time she broke loose.

“I can’t keep this up forever,” Phantom informed her, voice strained. “This isn’t weakening her. I have something that’ll weaken her enough for the Thermos, but it’ll cost me everything I’ve got.”

They were out in the open. Anybody could be watching. Hell, she knew for a fact that her actual brother was nearby.

“You can’t,” she told Phantom, heart clenching. Her core spluttered. She didn’t have enough energy to weaken Spectra. Could barely cling to ghost form. “Phantom, you can’t.”

A sharp crack. Jazz’ eyes snapped back to Spectra. Phantom had paused just too long between blasts. She was loose once more.

“Fuck,” he swore again, passionately and so tired. “Time for round three.”

She pulled herself back into a fighting position. Energy wisped through her fists. They just had to— to last a little longer. Outlast Spectra.

The ghost in question snarled. Coiled like a snake. Shot towards them, claws outreached.

A blast of green whizzed between them, and Spectra screeched to a halt. Jazz felt her heart stop in her chest.

On the ground, cloaked in heavy metal armor, stood Danny Fenton.

“Oh, thank the lord,” Phantom breathed next to her. Why was he so excited to see—

oh.

That armor her brother was wearing was the Fenton Ghost Peeler. The weapon that Phantom’s sister had used to take out Spectra the first time.

“Let’s go distract her, make sure he can land a hit,” Phantom told her. Before she could reply, he dove, fast as lightning.

Energy rushed through her core, like hope given shape.

Final stretch, she thought to herself. Then she dove as well, legs merging back into a spectral tail.

She swept past Spectra, low to the ground. Glanced just on the edge of her reach. Before Spectra could lunge, however, Jazz darted away again.

On the other side, Phantom flung himself high. Fired off an ecto-blast against Spectra’s back, not enough power to knock her away, but strong enough to draw her attention.

With the ghost distracted, Jazz shot past again. Darted right over Spectra’s flaring hair.

Before Spectra could dig her talons into Jazz, Phantom dove low. Froze her twisting tail back to the street.

They both split away from their opponent, almost in perfect sync.

Danny took the opportunity for what it was. The Peeler’s shot whistled through the air and hit Spectra straight in the chest.

She screeched, high and piercing like a banshee’s call. Her outer layer literally peeled away, the black opening up to her human form. Then that split apart, leaving a slightly older version of Spectra’s human form.

As Jazz watched, several more layers peeled away from Spectra’s body until, finally, just a shriveled old woman was left. She jerked around, but couldn’t break free of Phantom’s ice anymore.

“No!” she screamed, clawing at her face. “No! My beautiful youth!”

“Yeah, you know what? I’ve heard enough from you already.” Phantom uncapped his Thermos.

Spectra was dragged in without a struggle, and finally, finally, the fight was done.

Jazz sighed, feeling the full force of her exhaustion and pain come back. She was gonna sleep for a week to get over this again, jeez. But first…

She cocked her head towards Danny, and Phantom nodded. They both lowered themselves back to the one human left on the street.

“Thank you,” Jazz told him, watching as the armor slid back into the Ghost Peeler. “For your help just now. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Danny shrugged, easily, casually. Like he hadn’t just gone against years of their parents’ lessons about ghosts to help them. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Specter,” Phantom said, a tone of urgency in his voice. “We’d better get going.”

Her core twitched, drawing on the last vestiges of power.

“Right. Let’s.” She nodded towards Danny again, trying to wordlessly convey her gratitude. He grinned back, like he understood, somehow.

The two of them fled. They didn’t go very far—Jazz crash-landed on a nearby roof when her core gave out. Phantom shifted back too, the bags under his eyes far more pronounced than she’d ever seen them.

“Are you okay?” he asked, crouching next to her. “That was a pretty rough fight.”

“Our first big one, wasn’t it?” She let herself slump down, her head resting against Phantom’s shoulder. “Bertrand got me a few times—I hit my head pretty hard. But I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his cool fingers carefully combing through her hair. Looking for injuries, probably. “You’re allowed to not be, you know?”

“I’ll be fine, Danny.” She rested her head on his shoulder. His hand paused, then shifted, slid to rest on her arm. “I’m fine, and the city’s fine, and we’re both okay. Everything went alright.”

He laughed, weakly. “Well, I hope you’re ready for what’s next. Now we’re really in for it.”

“Oh?” She considered lifting her head again, but it was heavy with exhaustion. No looking at Phantom’s expression, then.

“Now Amity really knows who we are,” he explained. “About our team.”

“Oh,” she said again. “That’s fine. We are a team.”

“Right.” He swallowed so heavily she could feel him move. “Of course.”

#danny phantom #phanfic #dp fanfic #dp fanfiction #phanfiction #phic #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jazz phantom au #halfa jazz au #penelope spectra #dark writes #absurdism

[innerartisanfan]

20 Questions

@monsieur-jenj tagged me in this *checks notification e-mail* a fucking month ago and I finally got it done!!!!

Tagging: @hollowxo , @mm-better-not, @eclecticsoupmonster, @gendry-waters-fanatic aaaaand @roombagreyjoy (as always feel free to ignore me if u don't feel like doing it💕)

[[MORE]]

Name: Fun story: It was originally supposed to be Anna but then my cousin was born 6 months before me and my mum only got a mailbox saying 'Our daughter Anna is here!!!!' And my mum was like *surprised Picachu face*

And then she cried a little and called me Alina instead which I rly appreciate bc I love that name (more than Anna actually 🙈 no shade to any Anna's out there)

Aaand my dad insisted on second-namimg me after his favourite grandmother Maria - but they changed it to Marie bc Alina Maria would've been a little pretentious 🤷🏼‍♀️ (we were talking about that today actually that's why y'all get the full story #shamelessoversharing)

Nicknames: Alinchen, Alinibini, Alinuschka, Bini, (all courtesies from my mum) and some ppl say Ali... oh, and if someone wants something from me or my sisters want me to check their homework they say Alinapedia or Lady of Lektorien (Las word german and idk how to translate it - it's a pun on Lòrien and 'Editing')

Zodiac Sign: Pisces ♓ (sun and ascending RIP)

Height: dunno exactly (Shorter than my little sister🙄)

Languages: German and English (I also learned French in High School but let's not talk about that) also fluent in sarcasm and meme

Nationality: 🇩🇪

Favorite Season: All of them?? I don't like the extreme weather days in winter and summer but other than that? Nature is beautiful, bring it!!!!

Favorite Flower: "Nature is beautiful, bring it!!!!" (I got a special soft spot for Rose's bc my grandma loved them like,,, a lot and she died last year and I feel connected to her through them🌹🥀)

Favorite Scent: Coffee (although I don't like to drink it lol), air after it rained, ...

Favorite Color: *remembers that ask in my inbox since literally over a month* *breaks out in cold sweat* I really don't know

Favorite Animal:  Elephants, Owls, Frogs, Cats

Favorite Fictional Character: I'm stanning the Birds of Prey squad way too hard right now tbh... also Ashoka Tano

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: I am SUCH a tea hoe u don't even know. But I also make a killer hot chocolate

Average Sleep Hours: Define 'sleep'.

Dog or Cat person: 🐱 (I love dogs as much as the next person but I just don't get them - I speak cat but not dog)

Number of Blankets Slept With: depending on the season either one (1) stuffed blanket or said blanket and an additional fluffy blanket. Oh and I sleep in a scarf sometimes in winter.

Dream Trip: Someone convert a school bus with me and travel the world.

Blog Established: Lord idk

Followers: Lemme look it up... 149!?!??!???????? dafuq that's a lotta ppl for no original post😂

Random Fact: I turned 20 today and it's a very weird feeling.

#this really took forever huh #thanks for tagging!!!!!!!

[ohpuckthat]

Twitter Hunt Pt. 2 (Tyler Seguin)

Part One Here...

I was walking around Dallas with Brandon and Jo the day after the game, taking in as much as we could before we had to go back tomorrow. Last night, Tyler and I had planned to meet each other at a coffee shop downtown that he swore by. Around ten minutes before Tyler and I were supposed to meet, I had driven Brandon and Jo to have some mother/son time while at a movie theatre, planning to meet up at 6:30 back at the hotel to grab dinner together. When I had finally arrived downtown, I found a parking spot near the quaint cafe and then walked in to see Tyler sitting at a table in the back corner with a glass of water in front of him and staring intently at his phone. I slowly made my way over and took a seat in the chair across from him.

“Oh, hey. Sorry, just texting some of the guys.” He said, looking up from his phone at me.

“No worries. Sorry if you were waiting long, Brandon demanded to know where I was going. Jo thought it’d be best if we didn’t tell him. He’d probably want to tag along.” 

“Not that I don’t love the little guy, but I’m kind of glad he didn’t come. I wanted to get to know you a bit better.” 

“He’s definitely one of a kind. He’s one of the reasons I love my job so much.” 

“Me too. I mean, seeing all these people wearing my jersey? I used to be one of those kids.”

“Me too, well I still am.” I said, before we both started laughing. We continued getting to know each other until a server came to take our orders. As per Tyler’s recommendation, I ordered a coffee and a stack of their pancakes. She wrote our orders down before making her way back towards the kitchen. 

“I normally don’t get pancakes. I’m more of a french toast kind of girl.” I admitted.

“I swear, the pancakes here are amazing. Sometimes I get weird looks for ordering them for dinner.” He said, adding a belly laugh at the end. I couldn’t help but admire the way his face crinkled and his hands moving to clutch his stomach. Even though what he said wasn’t funny in the slightest, just seeing him laugh was contagious enough for me to join in. Once our laughter died down slightly, we continued asking each other basic questions like full name, where we’re originally from, and our favourite colours. Soon after we had ordered, our coffees came and I leaned over to grab some cream and sugar to fix the cup of joe in front of me. As I brought the mug to my lips, my phone started ringing. The Dallas Stars goal song played, signalling it was Jo calling.

“I am so sorry, I have to take this.” I said, tilting the phone slightly to show him who was calling before answering. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/N. Brandon passed out in the middle of the movie so we are currently on our way to a hospital to get him checked out. We probably won’t be able to make it back to the hotel on time for dinner.” I could hear the tears in her voice. This would be the first time in two years that Brandon had to be rushed to the hospital and I could tell she was scared.

“That’s completely fine. Um, text me where they take you guys and I’ll meet you there.” I said, ignoring the concerned look on Tyler’s face.

“No, enjoy your time with Tyler. It’s probably nothing but I just wanted to make sure.”

“You did the right thing Jo. I’ll come sit with you okay? Just let me know where you guys are headed.” 

“I’ll text you when we get there.” 

“Alright, I will see you soon.” I hung up the phone and went to grab some cash from my purse to pay for the uneaten meal on the way. 

“What’s going on?” Tyler asked as I placed a twenty on the table.

“Something happened with Brandon and he and Jo are on their way to a hospital. I really have to go.” I stood up and hiked the purse up onto my shoulder. “I’m really sorry to cut this short.” 

“Let me drive you.” He said, getting up and placing some money on the table as well. 

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“I’m offering. Plus, it’ll be nice to see Brandon again before you guys leave.” I looked at him before nodding and making my way to the door, Tyler right behind me. He pointed to a small black car before placing his hand on the small of my back and ushering me towards the passengers side door. He opened the door and then shut it when I finally sat down before running around the car and getting into the drivers seat. I grabbed my phone once more and saw that Jo had texted me their location and we were on our way. 

“So you have the Dallas Stars goal song as your ringtone eh?” He asked, not taking his eyes off the road in front of him. I could tell he was a little tense with how nervous I was but I appreciated him trying to get my mind off of the situation at hand. 

“Not my regular ringtone. I always set personalized ringtones for the people I’m travelling with. I went to Disney in Paris with a little girl just last month and she asked me to set her ringtone as Goofy’s laugh.” I laughed slightly at the memory before realizing that we had arrived at the hospital. 

I texted Jo that we were here and she quickly replied that they were already set up in a room and that the front desk knew I was coming. I opened the door and walked in with Tyler, his hand finding it’s way to intertwine with mine, his thumb rubbing my knuckles trying to calm me down. I quickly squeezed his hand before asking the man behind the desk where I could find Brandon. He pointed to a hall and gave us the room number. I thanked him and pulled Tyler towards Brandon’s room. When I walked in, Jo was sitting in a chair that had been brought to the edge of the bed and Brandon was laying down, half awake. 

“Hey buddy. How you feeling?” I asked, walking towards his bed, letting go of Tyler’s hand in the process.

“What is Tyler Seguin doing here?” He asked, completely ignoring my question.

“I heard what happened and I thought I would come see how you were?” He said, walking forward to stand next to me. I looked at Jo and saw her nod towards the door. I leaned up to Tyler’s ear and whispered that we would be back in a second and asked him if he was going to be okay to hang out with Brandon for a bit. He quickly turned and nodded before walking to the bed and sitting the chair Jo was just in. We walked out to the hallway before Jo broke down.

“One second he was fine and the next, he was on the ground.” She sobbed into my chest as I wrapped my arms around her. This had only happened to me once before. A kid hospitalized as their dream was being fulfilled. All I could do was rub her back and let her get it all out. After a few minutes, she separated from me and took both of my hands. “Thank you so much for being here. You are an angel.” I pulled her into another hug before we headed back into the room. Tyler had migrated from the chair to sitting on the end of the bed playing cards with Brandon. 

“I win!” Brandon yelled, placing down the last card from his hand. 

“You cheated!” Tyler yelled back, throwing his stack of cards down after. 

“Boys, boys. Stop yelling. People are trying to heal here.” Jo said, walking over to her chair. I made my way over to the bed and sat next to Tyler. 

“Did you seriously play cards with him?” I asked Tyler, pointing towards Brandon, slightly laughing. 

“Yeah. He asked nicely so I thought we’d play. He played me!” Even before Tyler could finish his sentence, Jo, Brandon, and I were laughing so hard, our stomachs hurt. 

“I learned my lesson on the plane ride here.” I said, once the laughing died down. I leaned over to Tyler and layed my head on his shoulder. I was too focused on Brandon’s laughter to notice the smile on Tyler’s face. Before I could stop it, a yawn made it’s way out of my mouth. 

“Y/N, they want to keep Brandon overnight. Why don’t you head back to the hotel and meet us back here tomorrow morning?” Jo said, noticing my yawn. 

“Yeah, I also left my car downtown so I should probably go pick that up.” I got up and hugged them both before Tyler and I made our way back to his car. As soon as we got in, tears started rolling down my face. Tyler turned to me but didn’t say anything. He started the car and then placed his hand onto my thigh. He started driving but went the opposite way of downtown. 

“Where are we going?” I asked quietly, my voice coming out hoarse. 

“Oh, uh. I was just thinking that you shouldn’t be alone tonight. I can bring you back to your hotel room but I have a guest room open but I guess I shouldn’t have just assumed.” 

“That would actually be great. Thank you.” We stayed quiet for the rest of the ride to his place, with only the radio playing very low. He pulled into his driveway and then made his way into his garage. He turned the ignition off and then got out of the car and ran around to open my car door. I quietly thanked him as I slid out. He lead me inside and we were swarmed by his pack of dogs. I quickly leaned down and gave the dogs some love. “Hello. Who are you?” I asked them in a baby-esque voice. 

“That’s Marshall, Cash, and Gerry.” He said, pointing to each dog. I ended up on my butt with all the dogs swarming me. 

“Alright boys, leave her alone.” He said, pulling them off. He led them to the backyard and then walked back to where I was still sitting on his floor. He held his hand out and then pulled me up onto my feet once I grabbed his hand. 

We spent most of the night watching a few movies in his media room. For only a moment, I forgot about why I was here and I just enjoyed being here with Tyler. But once that moment was gone, I thought about Brandon sitting in a hospital bed with Jo, not knowing what was going on. Looking over at Tyler, I couldn’t help but think about what could happen if I didn’t have to leave. We both knew that whatever was going on with us, it couldn’t last. I tried to soak up as much as I could, commit as much to memory before I would have to go back. I tried to push it all back before closing my eyes and eventually falling asleep.

A few days had passed and Brandon was finally cleared to fly back home. As elated as I was to go home, I couldn’t help but feel blue about leaving Dallas and Tyler. Throughout our visit here, Tyler and I had gotten a lot closer than I could have even imagined. As we sat in the airport, Jo and I were chatting and Brandon was on my phone, playing one of the many games I had downloaded for him. From our seats, Jo and I could hear him giggle every now and then, smiles lighting up our faces. After a bit, Brandon started shifting in his seat. Jo took that as a clue and brought him to the washroom, giving me some alone time with my thoughts. They returned not long after, but had acquired a few people along the way. I turned around and saw Brandon leading a group of Dallas Stars towards me, Tyler right beside Brandon. I slowly stood up and walked over to the group. 

“Let’s leave the love birds alone.” Captain Jamie said, ushering the boys, who had been making kissy noises and cheering, over to where Jo, Brandon and I had been sitting previously. 

“I’m sorry about them.” He said, scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s all good. It’s... charming in a way.” 

“I just knew that I couldn’t let you leave without seeing you again.” 

“That is so cheesy.” 

“But true. I don’t know when I’m going to see you next but I know I do want to see you again.” 

“Really?” I asked, smirking slightly. 

“Yeah. There’s also something that I wanted to do since the first time we met.” He leant in and whispered in my ear “Am I coming off too strong?” I shook my head before placing my hands on his shoulders, his hands finding my waist, and before he kissed me. From behind us we could hear the boys cheering, but, as cliche as it sounded, it felt like there was nothing else in the world except for us. We separated and I hid myself in his chest. I could feel him swatting his hand towards the boys before kissing the top of my head. I lifted my head up and smiled with him. Before we could say anything, they called to start boarding. 

“I guess that’s my cue.” I said, frowning slightly. 

“We’ll see each other again. I promise.” He said, kissing my forehead. I nodded before walking towards Jo and the boys. We all said our goodbyes before we boarded. I took my phone out to turn it off but saw a message from Tyler. 

from @/tseguin92

sorry for all the commotion... but damn was it ever worth it 😉 i'll see you soon.

from @/yourusername

see you soon cheese ball 😉

#tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin imagines #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #tylerseguin

[vaingloriosa]

the ultimate tagged masterpost

so, i have been slacking in returning y’all’s tagged games and i felt really bad because some of them were writing tag games...and i had nothing to show for. HOWEVER! i have made a sort of bounce back with a lot of friends supporting me :)

let’s kick things off, huh?

1) “ six sentence snippet tag” tagged by @thedragonkween (im love u!) and @the-darklings (CHILE love u as well!)

here’s y’all’s king quentin beck!! also, i think this is...six sentences...

Quentin isn’t sure why he continues to twiddle with the gold band around his ring finger while he’s not performing in front of an audience.

After every debriefing, he takes a bow as the curtain draws before him, the spotlight diminishing from his view, he can’t help but reach for it. The ring acts like some sort of tether, bound somewhere between the role Quentin plays and something far fetched...a yearning feeling that breaks his own heart at times. He can’t quite find the words to express how he feels but he knows to ignore such foolish longing.

Focus, Beck.

Focus.

2) “author questionnaire tag” tagged by @veanery (gracias, mi amiga!!) and @deviantramblings (MISS. LAUREN!! MWAH!!)

fandoms you write for: bruh moment, it changes almost every single day or sumn. i predominately write for marvel and star wars however i have written for john wick, devil may cry 5, stranger things, and d*troit: b*come h*man in the past. i thought about writing for rdr2 hehe

where you post: if you don’t find my work here, you can find me at ao3 under the pseudo “zebracakes”. fair warning, i do not upload all my stories there unless it’s a personal story that i think my readers over there will appreciate as well. so, if u think u see my work on wattpad or whatever y’all mfs use, that ain’t me!

most popular one-shot: Under the Twinkling Stars is a fake wedding date!john wick x reader story that honestly never thought would take off the way that it did. nearly 2k notes! it was originally a request...like wow kudos to op

most popular multi-chapter story: haha....ahh, i accidentally deleted my multi-series story but it was my one and only so there ain’t no answer here

favorite story you’ve wrote: hands down it’s νοσταλγία. this loki x reader story is something that was written in the spur of the moment and it’s about my favorite trope of all time (soulmate au). i tried a new approaching to writing and i am really happy with the outcome!! sometimes i forget that i actually wrote it sjdsajlda

a story you were nervous to post: like hannah said, all of them. authors always tend to be their own worst critics and i am no different. funny enough, i’ve actually taken down some stories i felt were just...not my strongest because they were a little embarrassing to have them up on display. 

how do you choose your titles: hmm, great question! i know a lot of authors use lyrics as their titles nd like...i wish i had that kinda brand. most of the times, the title ties into the story and though it’s never stated in the story, it relates to what the story is about. some of my more “adventurous” titles revolve around foreign languages and sometimes inspired by song titles.

do you outline: HELL NAH! i have a vague concept, open up an empty text post, and ROLL WITH IT. however, with some stories, i do take a little bit of time to pinpoint crucial moments of the story but other than that...i just wing it, bro.

complete: what the fuck does this mean?? how many stories i’ve completed?? umm on this blog it’s 53? i think? i was counting fast. i did have more pero i deleted a lot of them during a spiral lmaoo

in-progress: according to my drafts, it’s 15 and they are all OVER the place. however, i do not plan on writing all of them. big sad let’s pour one out

coming soon: i know i piqued some of y’all’s interests when i said i’m stepping into the mysterio x reader fic world so i got sumn in the kitchen for y’all. surprisingly...if anyone is up to it....there’s some dbh leftovers in the fridge...

do you accept prompts: of course i always do! though motivation has been a fickle thing so...bear with me and understand if i don’t take your request.

upcoming story you are most excited to write: quentin x reader angst that has me waking up sometimes to write sumn down for it. without giving too much away, it deals with grief, heartache, longing, and...time travel? brooOo i’m the only one excited like it’s just me, omi, nur, and dori shrieking in the woodlands

3) “10 things tag” tagged by @deviantramblings (thank u, madame!)

list 10 things that make me happy :)

good music to dance to

air conditioning

cats

kind words

cold water

ibuprofen

soft blankets

pdf files

keanu reeves

finding money that you forgot u had

4) “last line tag” tagged by @deviantramblings (thank u again, ma’am), @the-darklings (*tips fedora*), and @veanery (u tagged me so LONG ago EYE)

this is for that one quentin beck x reader story i was talking about.

“Is he currently sleep walking?“

this is the last thing i typed on my draft. however, on my notes app....she is just all over the place...idk where she begins and ends. it’s utter chaos

5) “21 questions” tagged by @thefvlcon (thnak u, kayla!!)

Name / Nickname: it’s anjelica but i go by my nickname “angel”

Sign: scorpio sun, aquarius moon, scorpio rising (?) aka i’m all sorts of dumbass

Height: 5 ft 4

Hogwarts House: i’m only interested in y’all’s hufflepuff bc the mascot is cute and apparently they live near the kitchen??

Last thing I Googled: .....electric shaver....don’t @ me bro only omi knows

Favourite musician/s: bro :// umm, mitski, kshmr, lil nas x, bastille, megan thee stallion, foxes, the killers

Last song I listened to: 10,000 nights by alphabeat! such an old school bop y’all BEST listen to it

Song stuck in my head: it ranges from strawberry blond by mitski or barbed wire by rogue

Following: 78

Followers: on this writing blog, 1,861. my main blog has 1,464

Do you get asks: once in awhile hehe

Amount of Sleep: fluctuates from nine hours to straight up four hours asjkdsalk WHEW

Lucky Number: 7? it’s always been 7

What I’m Wearing: my pajamas aka a ratty light blue avengers shirt from walmart with holes and weird stains and pajama shorts with lil stars and moons from walmart as well lmaooo

Dream Trip: PUMPKIN SOUP WORLD TOUR

Instruments: flute and piano...i am a Lady

Languages: english and spanish because i’m basic and unoriginal

Favourite Song/s: of all time?? BABA YETU!!!!!!!!!!

Random Fact: wild how some of y’all don’t know that i have a twin sister. we ain’t look alike pero u came out from the same mom so

Aesthetic: exposed brick, warm tones, neon lighting, pink sunsets, matte, possums

6) “find the word tag” tagged by @deviantramblings (gosh it’s just u nd me and these tag games huh!!)

rules are you are given a set of words to search them in your wips. my set of challenge words are:  tear(s), snow, sun, laugh

omg...i couldn’t....find any of those words in any of my wips asjkdsajkldsa WHEW this was quite....uneventful lmao sorry to disappoint :(( however, i did find some with the word “laughter”...does that count?

start from the beginning (connor x reader)

Hank can’t contain his laughter as he wraps his arms across his chest and shakes his graying hair. He knows that when Connor whips out his formal title out, it’s all in a joking, familial matter. “Oh, and you’re gonna use me as well? Shit, kid, might as well take my house while you’re at it.”

untitled bucky x reader

Your laughter sounds like a sweet melody, one he’s heard over and over again yet he never gets tired of hearing it. Bucky watches as you stand up and walk towards him to take the mason jars out of his hands. His eyes look down to observe a golden wedding band around your finger which prompts him to look at his own left hand. Lo and behold, gold.

oh hold up i found “laugh” lmaooo

untitled connor x reader

“Hello? Is anyone home?” He waves his hand over your face to snap you out of your daze. Your reaction makes Connor’s whole body shake as he laughs with his entire being. A shy smile grows as you lick the seam of your lips and giggle softly to yourself. The candles on the cake flicker, the flames creating a hypnotic trance as they dance to and fro.

(if it sounds ooc, there’s a reason for that that you’ll find out IF I EVER PUBLISH IT LMAOO)

WAIT! I FOUND “TEAR(S)”!!

untitled bucky x reader

Tears prickle at the edge of your eyes but you must not show the fear, the exact physiological response they’re anticipating. You slow down your erratic breathing, trying your best to calm your racing heart. Your eyes shift from your boots to the containment they are keeping your Bucky in. He is sound asleep, a false sense of peace and equilibrium. You want to caress his face and to press your body against him once again to remember the feeling you’ve lost years ago.

7) “ writing style alignment tag” tagged by @deviantramblings (u a real one)

most definitely a chaotic planster! defined by:

has an idea for a plot when they start

who writes things down??

has to assemble scenes into a frankendraft

my method is incredibly messy when it comes to writing. usually there is an idea (thanks, nick fury), which is usually triggered by a scene i want to develop. sometimes all i have is a scene but no plot. sometimes i have a concept of a plot with no real direction. AM I VALID??

8) “ playlist shuffling tag” tagged by @the-darklings (*jenna marbles voice* oh hell yeah) and @veanery (oh my gosh this tag is from many MOONS ago)

since my main playlist only has like five songs, i will go into my general playlist where it’s a literal...what even is it...

oriana by roger zarzour

focus by blackcode

superhuman by crystal knives

adios by ricky martin

take me (not your dope remix) by jikay

all you need to know by gryffin

this is love by hardwell

can’t hear a word you’re saying by x-change

kay gayi chull by the kapoor & sons cast

music del corazon by josh groban

9) “about me tag” tagged by @veanery (brooo thank u), @pointedly-foolish (ayy lmaoo suh dude), @deviantramblings (this was a popular game huh), and @wrinkledparchment (miss. lexi said rights!)

name: angel

gender: female

birthday: november 10th

relationship status: single

favorite color: sunflower yellow

top 3 ships: besides my usual self-ships, let’s do some...actual ships. finnrey, thorkyrie, finnpoe

last song: 学園天国 by clc

last movie: *checks letterboxd* spider-man: far from home lmaooo asjkdsjakl

10) “OTP challenge “ tagged by @reyskywclker (thank u for my rights, miss. parker)

besides the ones that i said in the previous tag, here’s ten more

john/abigail

han/leia

rey/jessika

sam/bucky

thor/bruce

carol/maria

t’challa/nakia

connor/north

peter/mj (mcu)

fuck i literally don’t ship a lot omg i am running on FUMES uhhhh....tiana/prince naveen

11) “about me” tagged by @reyskywclker (this is literally from earlier this year eye...)

Q1. Relationship status?

single and printing out boyfriend applications as we speak

Q2. Favourite colour?

right now it’s yellow :) it definitely fluctuates with what’s going tf on with my life. real life mood ring

Q3. Top 3 ships?

i’m going self-ships because it’s MY sleepover!! loki/me but two more times

Q4. Lipstick or chapstick?

MATTE LIQUID LIPSTICK IS THE ONLY WAY TO GOOOO

Q5. Last song I listened to?

came here for love by sigala

Q6. Last movie I watched?

spidey far from homie

12) “aesthetics tag” tagged by @deviantramblings (mwah!)

honey and lemon or milk and sugar // musicals or plays // lemonade or iced tea //strawberries or raspberries // winter or summer // beaches or forests // diners or cafés //unicorns or dragons // gemstones or crystals // hummingbirds or owls // fireworks or sparklers // brunch or happy hour // sweet or sour // rome or amsterdam // classic or modern art // sushi or ramen // sun or moon // polka dots or stripes // macaroon or croissants // glitter or matte //degas or seurat // aquariums or planetariums // road trip or camping trip //colouring books or water colour // fairy lights or candles

13) “about tag” tagged by @obsiidio (o hy mgosdhashdja HELLLLOOO!!)

name: angel, formally known as anjelica age: 24 lmaooo favourite colour: yellow!! when you made this account: may 26, 2010 at 8:40:44 PM follower count: 1,861?? i think? superpower: night owl favourite drink: ICE COLD WATER, BABEYY! a song(s) you love right now: devil inside me by kshmr dream career: for now....doing something fun while getting paid dream vacation: tokyo and seoul aka just the pumpkin soup world tour hogwarts house: hufflemfpuff fuck jk rowlings for sorting me into gryffindor favourite character this week: DR. JOHNNY WILCOX!!!! HELL YEAH!! christmas or halloween: halloweem

and THAT’S THAT ON THAT! whew, that was...a lot of energy. this took me two days to finish. for those who have not been tagged in these challenges, feel free to tag me in any of these :) you do NOT have to do each and everyone of them ajskdjsal 

#about me

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S3 Ep 29-30: LAVA GOLEM

Ah, Kaiba island.

I’m not quite sure how big Kaiba island is. In this picture it looks like we got ourselves a 6 story building on the side, but if we compare the 6 story building to the tower it’s like...that’s a 100 story building, roughly? Our art team has given up trying to make this building look like anything other than what it looks like, and they’re just going to make a metallic cross-section of a dick every time it shows up.

Also, I kinda wish we saw a little bit more of the landing sequence to get here because....

....did we do an Akira motorcycle slide into this island or is that just me?

Meanwhile, as Joey is duking it out on the world’s largest, coldest dildo, Serenity is stationed at the post she made for herself.

LOL Why did they do this? Why would they design this?

(read more under the cut)

Inside the swamp cloud, Marik is shocked that Joey has been largely unphased by this horrific experience.

Clearly Marik has not caught on that Joey’s been conditioned to this stuff living with Yugi for the past many years, and a little bit of pink spirit-sucking wires aren’t really much of a match for that time Joey saw Yugi light a guy on fire with a match once. Well, a lighter. Either way, this isn’t so bad.

And then, I don’t really talk about card games here, but Marik introduces a new card I have not seen before.

Behold, Lava Golem.

Look at him! Like I know everyone’s kinda freaking out about the new pokemon but like...Lava Golem? Remember that sweet face?

He’s just soooooo good.

Man this is the first Yugioh card ever that I’ve actually liked.

And, upon seeing this terrifying situation, Tea turns to Yugi and says:

Thanks Tea.

Also during these few episodes, Marik is starting to undergo a transformation, mostly via his viens. It’s a look. Kind of worried about his blood pressure.

And I was thinking that they just invented a a chin vein, but, as it turns out, they actually did their research.

There is a vein there! I mean this isn’t really that big a deal to most of you, probably, but anime often gets a bad rap for ignoring anatomy (which ... it’s a cartoon so yeah that’s...that’s what you do in cartoons, you ignore most anatomy) but hey--they got this vein correct. I don’t know why they even bothered, but that was very nice of them to make something so gross so correct.

And because some of you might want this just for yourself, cap free:

Enjoy.

Along with this good boy.

Is it just me? Is it just me that’s all ham about this Domo Kun face? This Mario mini-boss?

I usually don’t like the Yugioh monster designs but this one is just...he’s such a good boy.

Anyway, the art team was told at some point to change piss cloud and they decided to do this instead

Why does the width keep changing on the tower? Like I know it was tossed between different artists but like...it just...it keeps changing and it bothers me.

Anyway, back to what matters.

Can this be our new Joey Wheeler? Just leave everything about Joey Wheeler the same but replace his sprite with Lava Golem and with no explanation. I’d be down.

I do think that this arc brought back their A-team for the animation, there was just a lot more going on visually than we’ve had in a good while. Like this Marik face, for instance--this very famous face that I’ve seen drawn on like...a whole lot of characters. This is a much-referenced pose.

I mean, hey, not using reference while drawing is the same as dueling as Yugi Muto and just never using the Pharaoh. Like sure you could, but never, ever, ever do that.

And I just want you to know, I held that really corny anime art joke in for like a straight week on twitter as the entire world was going off about whether or not you’re supposed to use reference materials when you draw as if this is some sort of controversial topic (it’s not. No one cares about your process.) and y’all, it was HARD. But I did it. I resisted the discourse and still found a way to sneak it into here, into the side blog where I can go off about the inane art twitter discourse without getting blocked.

Which, again, was about “Can I use reference?” I...art twitter. Art twitter, I swear. why would you NOT? You have the Pharaoh, art twitter. You have the Pharaoh.

Anyway, I hope at least one of you got that joke. I hope one of you at least was like “lol--Art Reference is the Heart of the Cards.” and the next time someone tells you that using reference is cheating (which will never happen, a infinitesimal number of people in one forum on DeviantArt in 2003 said this once in the entire history of art, and I don’t know why twitter is fighting with these child-run forums that don’t even exist anymore) you can say “Don’t you dare talk about my platonic soulmate that way.” and just end the argument there.

The hell are these people who say artists don’t use reference? Do you write history papers without reading books?

And that’s my rant that was a.) too long for twitter and also b.) maybe too much anime. With art twitter it’s like..there’s no middle ground between too much anime and not enough anime. No middle ground and I have no idea where the people who follow me even stand. I think they just want to see Zelda. I think that’s about it. I really can’t tell with them. I’m like...always confused as to what those people want.

I need to delete my twitter. Anyways, back to Joey, who felt like breaking the fourth wall.

And so Marik decides to sober up and play the God card.

Yo guys, remember God Cards? I’ll be honest, I kinda completely forgot about them.

And then at some point this shot happened and I was living for it.

such a good idea to offset people in a different filter and kinda stack em. Bro was saying he remembered this sort of thing in Cowboy Bebop but I don’t remember what the hell he’s talking about. Bro and his spicy headcanons are mixing up Yugioh and Cowboy Bebop now. Never thought I’d see that.

And then Kaiba’s muscles kinda twitched and it looked like smiling.

Man, were there a lot of phoenix references in the 00′s or is that just me who read way too much Harry Potter?

And like, because I do draw Yugi sometimes, occasionally people will reblog and tag with Pharaoh’s real name in there (I can’t really avoid that spoiler), so I think it’s pretty likely his name comes from Atum of Egyptian legend. Who...wasn’t really a Pharaoh. Atum was kinda weird, he gave birth to...himself. He’s an interesting read. But, we’ll get there when we get there.

But, I didn’t really know about Bennu pyramids until I actually went and looked up Egyptian Phoenixes. I had always thought that the Phoenix was Greek in origin but, according to Wikipedia some people say it happened in Egypt as well. And if it’s good enough for Wikipedia, it’s good enough for Yugioh.

The return of the mystery purple moisturizer jug and it brought it’s entire extended family of fiji waters.

And so, Ishizu decides to do the right thing and take care of Mai. Not sure what Ishizu knows about being a nurse since she lived underground, but since she can help cure poisonous snake bites, maybe comas are a little bit easier?

And so Serenity starts the 30 minute jog up the phallic tower to get to Joey’s death sequence. She’s made it to about...20 ft outside of the plane by the end of this episode. Serenity runs kinda slow.

Bro mentioned that he thinks it looks like Tea’s trying to very stealthily steal Yugi’s wallet. And that’s just my spicy headcanon now, too.

Well now that’s over, lemme see if...

.......it could’ve happened. It only has like a couple of human skulls on it.

And hey if this is the first recap you’ve ever seen from me, here’s a link to read them all from the beginning in Chrono order, back when they weren’t color coded and I had no idea what the hell I was doing.

#Yugioh #yu gi oh #yugioh recap #photo recap #episode recap #s3 ep29 #s3 ep30 #Lava Golem #yugi muto #I wasn't expecting actual egyptian mythology to be in this show #joey wheeler #marik ishtar #serenity wheeler #ishizu ishtar #seto kaiba #tea gardner #tristan taylor #duke devlin

[apocalyvse]

11/11/11

I was tagged by @water-writings <3

1. Do you write fanfictions or original stories and did you ever write fanfiction?

I write (and always have written) both; I actually started writing fanfiction when I was like 10 years old, before I even knew what fanfiction was, and then later discovered that it was a whole thing. For quite a few years now fanfic has been my main thing, but I’ve got a few original things that I’m knuckling down on this year and really enjoying, so we’ll see.

2. Did you ever write your stories in the middle of class instead of paying attention?

Not in the middle of class really, but I did write like half a harry potter au fic sort of thing based off of some rp characters at the end of my year 11/12 exams. The exams were like 3 hours long each, and like, I’m not smart but I am pretty quick at theory stuff so I’d have 1.5-2 hours per exam to fill, and I would never use the note paper for notes. So I’d fold my note paper into 8ths and write reeeeeally really small and fill it all up during my extra exam time. (I still have the sheets of paper if anyone wants to see xD)

3. How many notebooks do you have filled with your writing?

Since somewhere in 2015, I have filled 25 notebooks; not including anything I wrote straight out on a computer, on my phone, on random pieces of paper, or in other notebooks that aren’t included in my numbering system, which I have lmao.

4. What’s your favorite way to write? Notebook, Word Doc, Google Docs?

By hand in notebooks. I used to write in a word doc, and I still use word to type up into and edit it, but I find writing by hand really pushes my word counts up, and forces me to do an initial edit when I type it up, especially with fanfic because I don’t draft fanfic.

5. Do you write by yourself or do you need people writing with you?

I’ve always written alone - most of my friends don’t even know that I write, or don’t write anymore themselves, so it’s just me and myself over here. I was in a writing club at school for a while, and we tried to do a couple projects together, but the group got off course way too easily and nothing really got done, so I prefer to be alone with something I’m really passionate about finishing.

6. Have you ever cowritten with someone?

When I was liiiiiike 12, my friend and I co-wrote a lot of Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfic lmao, which to this day is one of my favourite writing memories. And I co-wrote an entire 50k ‘novel’ with my friend during middle school, which was actually pretty good fun - we traded off chapters and worked together on plot and worldbuilding and actually finished the whole thing. It was horrible (I can’t look at it anymore it’s so cringey), but a good experience to have. I’ve co-written with a few friends online too, with mixed results - nothing that’s ever really gone anywhere though.

7. Who do you bounce ideas off of?

No one lmao. I just throw them into the story and see if they work.

8. Have you ever taken an experience from your life and written it into a story?

Definitely! The most obvious example would probably be the series of short stories I’ve written and posted on this horse racing game I play, Flying For Home, which are sometimes drawn directly from stuff that happens around my workplace in real life, seeing as I work with racehorses in a big stable (the premise of the short stories lmao). 

Another example I can think of is, funnily enough, my other horse-related project; a novel called Vertigo, for which I have drawn on a lot of my own personal history and people that I’ve met in my life and thrown it into the mixing pot. It’s a bit of a personal daydream tbh xD Other than those, there’s a little bit of myself in everything I write, I think, though it’s hard to pick out sometimes.

9. Favorite type of music to listen to while you write.

I usually don’t let myself listen to music when I write, but if I do, it’ll be the playlist I inevitably have for the story, turned down very quiet so that it fades into the background - usually just pop and alternative/indie sort of stuff.

10. Have you ever had anyone give you “advice” that hurt you and prevented you from writing for a while?

I don’t think I’ve ever had anything that stopped me from writing, and I’ve certainly never had criticism from outsiders/strangers or whatever (generally people just ignore me). But I do keep my mum at a distance from my writing, as she tends to just push and push me to ‘publish something already’ and gives off the mentality of ‘it’s not worth wasting your time on if it won’t make you money’. She uh...doesn’t know that I have published over 100k of fanfic this year. Lol. She’s only trying to be supportive, in her own way, and I appreciate it, but I just don’t mention it to her very often, because she’s never really ready to listen to my point of view on it.

11. Have you ever had fans of your writing pester to write a certain way?

I don’t have fans xD

And from @starsandstormyseas because you asked good questions and I Want To...

1. Have you ever had an idea that sounded really great in your head, but when you started writing it, came out terrible for whatever reason?

Yesssss, Flicker has gone through 9 versions in 2 years because every time I start it, it just goes very quickly in directions that I don’t want it to and it never feels right. This version I’m working on now is the first time I’ve really liked all the ways I could go with it so hopefully we’re past book 2 blues and back on track.

2. What’s your favorite part in writing a story? The relationships (or shipping), the plot, the worldbuilding, something else?

The like, ‘main’ scenes, the big hitters. The culmination of all the middle bits into that one main plot point. And relationships too, though not romantic persay - I just really enjoy the scenes where two characters will bounce off of each other for like 7 pages of dialogue, whether its enemies, or friends, or romantic.

3. And weird habits you do when writing, or to keep yourself writing?

I write by hand mostly, and I have my own system to mark as I’m going sentences I don’t like, or words that don’t really fit but I couldn’t think of the right one, or facts I’ve made up on the fly that need to be googled. If I just mark down stuff that I want to change later as I go, I find that I set myself free in a way, and I can just move on without getting stuck on a google spiral (also I don’t forget to fix my plot holes later).

4. Do you keep the internet on or off when you write?

On, though it’s very distracting when I’m trying to write straight on my laptop lmao

5. What books, authors, fics, or any media, have heavily influenced your writing style?

I spent a lot of my childhood reading Enid Blyton and authors like her; older books, mostly my mum’s books from when she was a child, and things from my hometown’s very, very outdated library. So they had a huge impact on the way I learnt to write (they also had an impact on the way I talk too, but that’s another story). More recently, the whole tone and way that fanfic in general is written has really influenced me, and I’d like to think I’ve adopted it and made it my own in a good way.

6. What time is the best time to write? Day, night? Morning, evening?

Evening/night; some days, I cannot focus until like 8pm when I go to bed. And then I lose sleep because I’m writing but y’know. For editing/typing up, that’s a late afternoon kind of job.

7. Is there anyone IRL that you let read your work? 

I have a group of friends that I’ve known for 8 years now that are allowed to read my work. We used to rp together and all used to write and so we all know how bad we were back in the day xD. One girl from that group has been my friend since kindergarten, so she has always had me shoving handfuls of words in her face. There’s been a few other friends that have read some of my stuff, but not all of it, and the older I get, the less I share.

8. How do you handle negative or unhelpful reviews or critique? Does it impact the way you write?

I’ve never had any negative response, so I don’t know. The silence when you’re 4 chapters deep and no one has reviewed is deafening though.

9. Do you respond to every comment/reply you get? If not, which ones get your attention and why?

I only respond to the long/sincere ones, because I feel like they deserve some encouragement in return for taking the time to really let me know what they thought.

10. Ever gotten weird, unsolicited messages asking to join an RP group or some such because this person apparently read your writing (but probably didn’t)?

Hah. Once or twice.

11. What is your favorite platform to post your writing, talk about writing, or anything like that? 

My favourite place to post and to read by far is AO3 - but I find the best platform to get feedback on is FF.net. My favourite place to talk about writing is over here on tumblr.

MY QUESTIONS

How do you get yourself to focus on writing?

What’s your favourite thing you’ve ever written?

Tell me about your current WIP.

Do you write for yourself or for an audience?

Do you share your writing with anyone you know in real life?

What’s the nicest comment/review you’ve ever gotten?

What platform do you prefer to post your work on?

Do you plot or pants?

What have you learnt while writing your stories?

Do you remember the first story you ever wrote?

Can you give a spoiler for your WIP?

Tagging (from writer peeps) @converginglives, @pen-in-hand (if you want another one I think mel got you xD), @aethryos, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @siriusguided, @insertpenname-here, @indecentpause, @writing-at-dusk @sillyliterature @anoddconstellationofthoughts @writingtomorrow

#if you join ffh #the referral number is 24 #;) #tag game #nah for real though this was fun

[6ad6ro]

how do u make friends and become a "personality" on tumblr? i dont mean being tumblr famous, im just pretty lonely. asking u since u seem to have a few

oh gosh i’m surprised you think of me as havin friends n bein a tumblr personality! that’s kinda a compliment so ty! tho lol i might not be as popular as u think tbh? tho i guess i have an okay number of followers and the ppl i’m close to on here are SO AWESOME n i love them? BUT OKAY! i’ll tell u how i went about makin friends on tumblr! btw don’t be afraid to dm me like i’ll be your friend! i’m super shy but like rly friendly so?? ANYWAYS here’s what i did:1. be yourself even if you think ppl won’t like you. you rly shouldn’t care about the ppl who don’t like u bc they’d prob never like you? and being urself helps you feel good about yourself and is REALLY attractive to ppl who might end up following you. be real. it’s your blog, so don’t, for example, let some mean anon tell u how to run your blog.2. that doesn’t mean being insensitive tho! i’m constantly tryin to be as fuckin nice as i can within reason. and oh yeah tag stuff like “flashing” or “nsfw” or “gore” etc even if you use custom tags (i use “h” for nsfw bc i don’t wanna get flagged lol). and don’t repost stuff on here without direct permission. it’s like stealing. and don’t delete captions off of original art (but u can remove a rebloggers captions all day).3. post your own “content” whether it be text posts or pictures u took or art u make or edits or finds off other sites! even if u think it’s too dumb, i promise u there’ll be a buncha ppl who will like it. i thought my gifs were trash and then one day one wound up on tumblr’s “radar’ (or whatev it used to be called). MAKE SURE U TAG YOUR POSTS. it’s fine to not tag reblogs unless they’re something ppl are sensitive about (flashing,gore). it’s fine to just reblog other’s stuff btw like ppl still love blogs like that (that’s most of tumblr tbh).4. your follower count doesn’t matter. the number of notes on posts you make don’t matter. it’s so easy to fall into viewing those numbers as a sign of “how cool u are/how much ppl like you”. don’t start posting things u don’t care about just bc u notice ppl like it. just be yourself. ppl will come anyways.5. talk to people. write little comments on ppls posts. respond to ppl. take the risk and direct message someone (be considerate tho. like if u have a crush on someone don’t open with “i wanna fuck u” lol). if you want friends, be friendly.6. THIS IS IMPORTANT THO. tumblr is easily the shyest community i’ve ever encountered. and this is coming from someone who has agoraphobia (or rather a fear of people). even if someone follows you back and likes all your posts… they might not respond to you. THAT DOESN’T MEAN THEY HATE U OR DON’T CARE. a lot of them just… can’t? ur msg very easily made them really happy. sometimes ppl like that just need time. i won’t lie, of the hundreds of ppl i’ve tried to start conv with? maybe only 10% of them even replied. if you’re like me the voice in ur head will tell you “oh they hate you you weirded them out ur awful”. ignore that dumbass voice. that 10% who responded? or responded later? are some of my best friends on here. IT’S ABSOLUTELY WORTH IT.take the risk. talk to people. rejection can hurt, but it’s just like a little scratch compared to the gushing wound we cause ourselves by not trying. see, look at this stupid long unintelligible post i just wrote. and i somehow still have a bunch of friends and followers? i’m a huge idiot, but turns out that everybody else is too thank god. so just be yourself and have fun!oh and it takes time btw. like i’ve been active on here since 2012 lol. give people time to find u and respond to you. hope it helped even if it was just a little!

#anon #reply #ty for asking #dont worry you'll make friends fine! #long #sorry i mighta gave way too much info but hope this helps??? #Anonymous