#this set was on my mind for months.... freeing myself by posting this.. hope this will haunt y'all now <3

[stuniolobbg]

Idol pt2 🤍

Warnings: suggestive, swearing

Matts Pov

I run out my room into the kitchen and see nick with A massive smile on my face

“Why are you so smiley tuff guy” Nick says with a smirk “Y/N HAS OUR FUCKING MERCH! SHE KNOWS WHO WE ARE! WHO I AM!” I say grinning from ear to ear

Nicks jaw dropped “you should dm her see if she wants to be on the podcast or something!” Chris overhears and walks into the kitchen “who do you guys want on the podcast?”

I smile “y/n y/l/n” Chris looks confused “why the fuck would one of the best actresses out their today want to be on our podcast” i open my phone and show Chris the paparazzi photos and he stares at I for a second “no. Fucking. Way.” He says looking like he’s in complete shock “dm her for sure. This could be great. We’d make thousands off of this!” Chris says with a wide smile “and on top of that you get to meet your idol Matt!”

I click on her instagram profile to dm her and see a new post

Y/n y/l/n *posted 10 minutes ago*

@sturnioloclothing @freshloveclothing @matthewsturniolo @nicolassturniolo @christophersturniolo look what camee 🥹, just the weekly photo dump love y’all

Liked by Nicolassturniolo and 96,382 others

Y/n.y/l/n.issocool: LITERAL GODESS

Sturniolo.girl: SHES A STURNIOLO FAN WHATT

Nicolassturniolo✅: let’s trip hoodie goes hardd

*liked by creator*

Nick.girl: OMG HI NICK

I like the post and comment ‘love the hoodie! 🤍’ and dm her shortly after saying

‘hey y/n I don’t know how I have the courage to say this but would you like to be on a podcast? We would be honoured to have you on here and I’m sure both of our fans would love it. I’m still getting over the fact that you know who we are let alone ENJOY our content. You’re literally my idol! Hope this gets to you all the love M.S🤍’

-

Y/ns pov

I see a notification pop up on my phone and it’s a dm from MATT STURNIOLO! I read the dm and reply

‘There’s no way I’ve just been invited on your podcast. You’re joking me right?? I’d love to!! But the problem is the only day off I have for the next two months is in two days for 3 days so I don’t know if you’re schedules free. Let me know whenever you can!’

‘I’m YOUR idol?! I don’t know if you know but you’re my comfort person and you and your brothers are my idols I don’t know what I’d do without you all you’ve all helped me so much and I appreciate you three more than you know. So it honestly warms my heart to know I inspire you!! Love you all. Y/n 🩶’

I put my phone down and smile

-

Matts Pov

I read her reply and respond

‘In two sounds great! We’ll even book you a hotel room to say thanks if you wanna hang after filming it’s up to you🤍. Happy to hear we’ve helped you it’s what we’re here for. M.S❕🤍🩹’

“Guys she’s agreed to be on the podcast I’m so fucking exited” I say to Chris and Nick and they just smile and Chuckle at me “just try not to get hard when she’s here” Chris says sarcastically and Nick chuckles ‘holy shit. What if I can’t control myself around her and get a fucking hard on in front of heer’ I think to myself I laugh along with the joke and then swallow hoping that doesn’t happen

-

2 days later

Y/ns pov

I just got off the plane from Chicago, signed a few autographs and put my bags in my hotel room. I then have an everything shower do my skincare hair and Makeup and put on my new green fresh love tracksuit.

-

I’m outside the sturniolos apartment and knock on the door. Nick answers with a smile on his face

“Oh my fucking god. Y/n y/l/n is stood outside MY house come on in!”. I chuckle as I walk in and take off my orange Jordan ones that match the set “the pleasure is mine”

“Sick shoes, they look fucking awesome” i hear someone say from the top of the stairs. It was Chris I smile and say “thanks!”

I walk upstairs and see Matt instantly runs up to me and hugs me tight I hug him back he pulls away “sorry if i got in your personal space. I’m just really excited” he says blushing slightly I chuckle and say “it’s nothing I don’t mind giving hugs. You think that’s bad? you should see what other fans do” he smiles bashfully as we walk into the podcast studio

-

After the podcast we hang out eat food, went for a late night drive to a gas station for snacks (Nick made us stop at Dairy Queen), watch movies and before we knew it it was 4am “oh shit it’s 4am” I say looking at them “it’s okay you can stay here if you want” Nick says with a smile “really? I don’t wanna get all up in your space.” I smile “sure you can “ Matt says and Chris nods in agreement “t-thankyou” I say with a smile “you can sleep in my room tonight if you want” Matt says and Chris smirks. My heart starts pounding out of my chest “would you be comfortable with that?” I looking at him trying so hard not to blush “yeah of course!” Matt said smiling “oh shit…my pyjamas are at my hotel.” I say awkwardly “it’s alright, you can borrow some of my stuff if you’re comfortable with that” Matt says “really? Thankyou!?”

-

Matts Pov

I give her a white tshirt and a pair of pyjama pants “here” I say with a smile “thankyou so much!” She says smiling

My god. That fucking smile

“N-no problem” I say smiling “Where do I change?” She asks innocently

Here. In front of me. Right fucking here

“My bathrooms just out there” I point to my door “thankyou” she says smiling Again

Fuck that smile.

she walks away into the bathroom and as I hear the rustling of fabric I instantly feel myself getting hard

Shit.

An: part twoooo hope y’all like 🤍

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader

[floufli]

Admit It

Chapter 1 : Discoveries (3.7K)

Summary:

Before the whole "multiverse collapsing" thing, everything was going pretty smoothly for you. As Spider-woman, you saved people, beat up villains and lived an calm and uneventful civilian life. But everything seemed to have changed the moment one boy was bitten by some radioactive spider. Now, the villains you faced have become more active, and always seemed to disappear before you could deliver them to the police. One day, you manage to finally catch the trail of the ones that kept stealing your catches, only to be left to discover another facet of your life waiting for you.

Will this end well for you? You could only hope so. But you are perfectly okay with risking it all, after all, that "Miguel" got one hell of an ass to make up for it.

Tags:

Miguel o'hara x fem!reader, violence, mature language and reference, Reader has the same arms thingies as Miguel, WILL BECOME MINOR NON FRIENDLY QUICK SO HOP HOP GET OUT OF HERE, future tags

MasterList

Chapter: 2

Author notes:

I deleted the post by mistake and almost shot myself. Otherwise hope you'll like it, I'm not a fanfic poster so I don't know my writing skills. ANywAyS. Enjoy.

Don't copy to another site or I'm gonna be big mad >:C and don't feed to AI obviously

A sight escaped your lips as you gazed upon the lively city before your eyes. With your hands grasping firmly onto the tissue of your mask, you let your eyes wander across the breathtaking buildings in front of you.

Fond of architecture wasn't the best term to describe yourself, as the sight of grey concrete and skyscrapers often became boring for someone like you, who spent all day and night in between the small gaps of each building. But it was where you spent most of your life, so you were sometimes forced to admire its beauty, even when said beauty had become the daily norm.

Positioned on top of some fancy building surely made for yet another big cooperative profit, you gaze at the horizon as the sun set, ending yet another long and tiring day. You closed your sensitive eyes as you appreciated the last few rays of sunlight that reached your face, your hair flowing freely behind you, now free of the mask's restraints.

If one would have told you you would become some spider-woman that fought for justice at your city scale, jumping from building to building by shooting webs to swing on... Yeah, you would have surely told them to go see a therapist. And yet there you were, a bit sore after today's load of work fighting some local thugs and one freak that tried to blow up a boutique. You were quite lucky if you were being honest. Only leaving the scenes with some minor bruises and a few cuts here and there on your body, could have been worse.

You really needed to get yourself a better suit, you thought. As this one had grow to become a bit too thin and easy the slit open for your taste.

The air had a slight chill today, announcing the forthcoming winter and with it the decrease in crime rate. After all, even criminals didn't like to spend the day out while it snowed like there would be no tomorrow, leaving the entire city covered in a pure white blanket, seemingly erasing the blood embedded in its pavement, only to be left with a much appreciated calm after yet another eventful year.

The image in your head was barely months away, and still, you couldn't wait for your much-needed vacation. Beating up some serious threats to the people had always left a satisfying aftertaste in your mouth, but even you needed a break from time to time to catch your breath.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the tight grasp you had on your mask, leaving your hand marked by your fingernails. Exhaling heavily, you put the piece of fabric back on your face, the arachnid-like design concealing your identity from the population.

You stood up from your previous crouching position on the edge of the skyscraper, mind at peace just as you went to jump off the edge.

Your foot dangled into the void below as if touching the shining light of cars and street lamps down below. Finally shifting your weight fully, you felt the familiar falling euphoria take over your enhanced senses. The sudden drop disoriented you for just a nanosecond as your body plunged down rapidly. Air blowing in your ears, you allowed the fall to last as much as your survival instinct let you.

It was relieving, the soreness of your body seemingly forgotten as you went down straight for the ground, letting you feel as if you were flying peacefully, and not at all risking being spread out on the concrete floor.

Ending the moment against your best wishes, you cast one of your webs onto the height of a building facing you, leaving your break behind you and swinging forward onto who knows what, maybe a villain or two- or even some nitroglycerine maniac.

You were the only one capable of protecting New York after all. Who could do this job except the one and only spider-woman?

"Miguel calm down. It's not that big of a deal you know?" Lyla's voice tried to soothe the agitated man. But to no avail.

The tall man was perambulating across the room, his steps echoing heavily into the gigantic hall.

"I can't, I can't that's it! This is definitely it! I'm going to lose it. Lo fucking juro." His tensed body roamed in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. Fingers pinching his nose, he tried to prevent the headache that was surely coming his way.

His failure at doing so was quite obvious, to say the least. Heavy breathing left his imposing form as he glared at his AI assistant.

"Not that big of a deal?! Do you have any ideas of what could have happened if at the time this maniac had managed to achieve opening a portal between universes? That would have-"

"Put the whole multiverse at risk of being destroyed blah blah blah .." Lyla interjected, gaining another furious red glare from her boss.

"This isn't funny Lyla for fuck's sake. I'm trying to save lives here." He stated in defeat. "The whole ordeal could have been easily avoided if he just didn't get bit by the spider. You know just as well as I do how much two Spidermen can't be at the same time. Their dimension would be a bomb waiting for the slightest disturbance to be completely annihilated."

"How did you want him to know to "just don't get bitten by the spider " Huh? It obviously crawled its way to him without him noticing, you know JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER SPIDERMEN IN THE MULTIVERSE EXCEPT YOU??? "

The small image of the woman flickered for a few seconds with annoyance, teleporting from her current place to right in in his face. She went from standing calmly to looking down at the huge man below her, hand grabbing her hips firmly to reinforce her statement.

"..."

If looks could kill she would surely be concerned for her life, lucky she was to be immaterial.

Stop worrying so much we're in the clear now. She thought angrily.

Closing her eyes as she let out a heavy sigh, her shoulder falling down, she tried to reassure her boss once again.

"Listen Miguel, we're all good now the multiverse is safe, and everyone is back in their own dimensions. No need to mull over it for hours now~~" She cheered, flickering to more dynamic poses to cheer her boss up. "Besides, if you keep ruminating all day you'll worsen your eye bags." She said as she mimicked a circular motion below her own.

"It's not because we avoided the destruction of all the worlds once that we should just stand by and wait for it to go south again!!! What if another just tried to-"

He was cut off once more as the hall suddenly shone in bright red light, blinding his oversensitive eyes, and leaving him squinting and hissing at the unwelcome light. Arms shooting straight up to protect his vision, he ordered Lyla to find the problem. Fast.

"Well, THAT'S SOMETHING I DIDN'T THINK ABOUT MIGUEL!?" The AI assistant yelled, her form teleporting across the whole control panel, in a matter of seconds she went through all the data that had suddenly come up in the system. While Miguel's face was now covered with his mask, whilst the radiant light still shone brightly in rapid blinks.

Using his webs, he swung to where his assistant had abruptly frozen, her floating 2D body facing one of the central control panels of this unit. With careful steps he closed the distance between them, coming forward to see what the screen had displayed. At first, he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, the usual universe's data such as each local Spiderman, recent major events, etc...

He froze when he saw the pop-up that took most of the central panel, his heart almost stopping as he reread, again and again, the words on the screen. What did it mean? They never had something like this happen before. Surely the little interdimensional perturbations caused by the ones on earth 1610B had created a bigger mess than they could have ever anticipated.

! ANOMALY DETECTED !

Those were the words blinking brightly on the display, along with the regular sound of an alarm claiming all of their attention.

"¿Qué demonios...?" Miguel murmured, more to himself than to Lyla. Both their eyes wide open as they gaze upon the unfamiliar words, unsure of what to do now. What the hell was an anomaly? And what were they supposed to do now?

Feeling eyes on himself, he turned his head to face Lyla's, only to be met with the same uncertainty he could feel was slipping out of his covered eyes. It wasn't often that he would be left speechless and unable to make a decision, but this time he was at a complete loss. Unable to do much more than gape at the screen along with his assistant, a dreadful feeling sent a chill throughout his entire body, causing his whole form to tense significantly.

He didn't know what exactly he was supposed to do, but despite his lack of spider sense, he could trust his instinct; and whatever was waiting for them later on, it wasn't pretty.

A bit less than a year later

- BEFORE ACROSS THE SPIDER VERSE MAJOR EVENTS TIMELINE -

"Vulture, it's about time for you to think about retirement, Jezz." You declared while avoiding another of his rapid attacks just before he launched himself back up into the sky, out of your reach- or at least that's what he thought.

His laugh echoed into the now-empty streets of New York, the panicked crowd having left in a hurry the moment both of you started fighting for real.

You were positioned right below him at the moment, feet embedded into the ground, ready to propel yourself to him if the right occasion appeared. Times like these had come to be an usual occurrence in the last few months, which was kind of weird if someone asked you. It was as if every villain in the city and its surrounding had suddenly decided to come out to cause havoc.

And you were beginning to grow tired of the incessant attacks that occurred almost every day by now. Local problems like thieves or terrorists were easy to deal with but these kinds of villains needed much more of your time and energy than any other. Your arms and legs were starting to let you know of their limits too, if this was to continue for longer you weren't sure you could keep up.

And why do they always looks so different each time?

Exhaling a last time before jumping straight towards your enemy, you let your arms' spikes fully out, ready to strike down. Webbing the building just behind his flying form, you were able to come to him a mere seconds, surprising him as well as wiping the smile off his face.

"SHIT- WAIT-"

But his words only met deaf ears. Your arms aiming directly for his face, you had learned long ago that spearing your enemies only brought out more bad than good. So now when you fought, whoever might be your opposants, you were determined to use all of your spider strength, even if killing was the only solution. You would not be risking the lives of thousands of civilians just because of the ambitions of one individual. And you weren't naïve, if they could, they would kill you in the blink of an eye.

The impact was immediate and ruthless, leaving no room for escape after the strike. With your enhanced senses, you could easily pick up the sound of bones cracking below your knuckles, the sound lasting only an instant before Vulture's entire frame was launched into one of the decommissioned building a bit farther from the main city.

You may have gone a bit overboard with that one.

Not wasting a second to avoid him escaping you again, you swung your way toward the point of impact. An immense gaping hole was now, where before stood some form of architecture. It was positioned not more than twenty meters above the ground, so you knew that if he wasn't on the floor of the impact, he was surely still in the building.

I would have seen it if he just jumped out of it.

Landing gracefully upon the now bare floor, you searched for your prey, using all of your faculties to make sure you weren't missing anything. But you heard nothing, saw nothing either, only smelled the faint smell of him intertwined with other unfamiliar ones. Ones that were too fresh to only be coincidental.

"What the hell is happening again?" You said in consternation, it wasn't the first time that this happened to you. In fact, since the moment the attacks multiplied, you had almost always lost track of your attackers. You weren't perfect, you knew that, losing track once or twice every now and then would be normal knowing the nature of your job. But now it was redundant, except for a few times, you always came back empty-handed. Leaving the police just as confused as you were, even if you tried to explain to them what happened again and again. Some even began to question you competences.

This time was exactly the same as the others, you lose their sight for less than a minute and when you arrive they're already gone to who-knows-where.

That was really beginning to put your nerves to the test.

Angry, you tried to cool off by shooting one of the cans left there by its last inhabitant, causing it to hit one of the last standing pieces of furniture still standing- at least it was standing, until it abruptly collapsed on itself because of the harsh force of the hit, provoking a loud chaos in its fall. Most of what it contained was now spilled on the floor in a glorious mess.

"Oops"

You winced at the involuntary action, apologizing to whoever might come across this in the future.

"What the hell what that?!"

You froze in your tracks immediately, adopting a fighting stance on pure instinct. This was a girl's voice, you were certain of it, but what would a girl be doing here? Next to a fighting scene?

"I don't know and we don't have the time to investigate, we need to get this one back in his dimensions as fast as possible or Miguel will beat our asses." Another voice, a bit deeper answered. A woman this time, you thought, preparing yourself for a fight.

Were they the ones that continuously stole your catches for months now? Dimensions? Was that it? The final explanation for all this overload in your job? You didn't think of that one. Even if you really thought of it, you were almost happy with yourself to not have thought of this silly idea.

Well silly, it seems like- Anyway. Focus.

"Still I feel sorry for the Spider-woman that lives here, should we not let her know about it now? I mean, she is constantly fighting them and we just come to gather the pieces while she does all the work. Seems a bit unfair to me." The young girl responded.

By now you had silently come to rest on one of the walls facing the hole in the building, just next to what was once a door, but now deprived of anything door-like except for the gap in the wall. Putting your head on its surface, you were able to pick up the sound of their shoes along the floor, each of their movement, as well as the sound of struggling. As if they had contained somebody.

From the sounds, you could guess that there was a pretty long hallway that should be a least thirtyish meters from the echo of the voices alone.

So they really are the ones that kept taking them to wherever they came from.

"It's not something up to you or I do decide, Girl." The woman said, and just as she finished, you heard some weird beeping sound as well as a sudden detonation.

Oh heelll no. I'm not letting you go before you answer some questions.

Jumping to your feet, you bypassed the wall separating you from the two strangers, only to be met by a huge ball of light that almost blinded you before you could close your eyes.

Fucking sensitive eyes.

Regaining your senses fast, you quickly approached the two (well technically three but you chose to ignore him) before they escaped to wherever this portal thing would be taking them. Thanks to the detonation, you were able to walk to them without being noticed by either of them.

"Hey there, mind explaining what you doing here?" You stated, not more than five or so meters away from them, hands on your hips while you eyed them from head to toe. They were two, that you got right. And the weirdest thing of all was that they looked so much like you, smelt like you even. The youngest was dressed in a white and black outfit that looked like yours, while the other was a visibly pregnant woman with a red and black colored suit, the only difference being her glasses being her glasses whereas you and the girl both wore masks.

You could effortlessly see the panic in the youngest demeanor as she repeatedly looked from you to her 'friend', said friend on the other side looked kind of fed up. Her hand went to a sort of watch that she had on her wrist, the gadget looking way too advanced to only be a simple watch to your tastes.

"Miguel, we have something unexpected on our end what do we do?" She said as she locked her eyes with your covered ones.

"I'm kind of busy at the moment what is it ?" A masculine voice answered from the device. The deep tone causing a wave of chill to run through you, leaving you confused.

Damn, what was that?

Am I really that desperate to get laid seriously?

You reprimanded yourself, for real, since when did you let yourself be horny when you were working. You would have to find a way to get laid when you finished your day.

"The local Spider-woman has spotted us..." She said while looking at you unimpressed.

"Then just get out of there quick, what do you want me to do?" The man said before letting out a heavy sigh, the sound reviving a strange fire inside you, before some other noise, moving furniture you guessed, took over the communicator.

Stop that.

"That's the problem, Miguel, she is quite literally right in front of us and looking quite unpleased with the situation."

"..."

For whatever reason they didn't seem to enjoy the fact that you had seen the whole ordeal. The silence stretched agonizingly long before what you guessed to be their boss spoke again.

"I won't be back to the HQ before a few hours." A pause, as if to think carefully of his next words. "This dimension is where we detected the unusual number of anomalies isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. The bright side is that we have the one from today thank to her once more."

She smile at you warmly, trying to let you know that neither of them was a threat to you or your world. It worked in a sense, but you already knew that there was no need for you to be on your guard too much around them. Your instincts were telling you that these two at least were safe to be around. For the mysterious man on the other hand you didn't know, the weird reactions of your body unusual even to you.

" *Sight* Qué desastre..." He murmured in what you recognized to be Spanish. " Bring her into the HQ, if she managed to control all of them she could be a good ally on our side if she is fit for the job."

" I'll let Lyla know and make another goober. Try to not fuck it up this time."

And just like the conversation ended.

"What a jerk." You thought out loud, surprising both of the women facing you and causing the oldest to laugh lightly.

"You get used to it after a while, that's just how he is."

You crocked an eyebrow at the comment, that didn't mean he was allowed to be a impolite jerk but anyway. Bringing your attention back to the young girl that was now lifting the tied-up body of the Vulture, you felt kind of lost. What was that all about? Anomalies? Local Spider-Woman? They were other like you? Where the two Spider-Women too from other dimensions? The more you learned about the strangers, the more you were confused and left with more questions, as you didn't want to make false assumptions.

Sensing your hesitation, the woman approached you carefully before putting a hand on your shoulder.

"I know it's a bit much to absorb at the moment but you'll understand when we will get to the HQ. Only if you want to go I mean. You're not obligated to follow us, even if Miguel authorized you to." She said before whispering something to herself that you almost missed, but thanks to your amazing hearing didn't. Something along the line of 'he isn't so compliant per usual.'

Looking behind her as both the girl and the Vulture disappeared into the bright portal, you made your decision.

"I mean, what should I do? Just stay behind and miss all the fun? Nah. You got me curious now so you better have a good justification for all the jackasses that got my ass sore for the last few months."

You didn't mean for it to sound like that.

But it was too late anyway, and surely she understood what you meant. And by the smile playing on her face, she did.

"Yeah, don't worry we got everything prepared for that."

Retracting her arms from your shoulder, she turned around to face the portal. As she took a few steps you followed, still a bit apprehensive of the unknown device. When she disappeared like the other two moments before, you exhaled heavily, steadying your breathing.

"Oh, Fuck it."

And just like that you launched yourself straight into the entrance, silently praying that this thing didn't mind rapid moving objects moving through it or else you would be quite fucked.

.

Tag list : (tell me if you want to be added/deleted)

@stany0url0calwh0res111 @mira-dystopiancore @smotheredinlighterfluid @vvitcxen @st4rrlighttt @mstozierr @maxi-ride @miguelsmainb

#fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel x you #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #x you #x reader #reader #fem!reader #you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #atsv #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel x fem!reader #x fem!reader #female reader #spiderwoman reader #jessica drew #gwen stacy

[yuri-is-online]

Sled Ride Together With Yuu (Jade Leech)

a/n: Yuri write something that isn't about Jade challenge (impossible). This is just some random stuff set during the Harveston event. I have half a thought written out for Idia that was supposed to go on this post but turns out the next part comes out today and I know I won't be happy to finish that until I complete the available story content. Sorry :/

notes: Jade is a red flag and Yuu is implied to be comically short, what are we? energy being answered with a shrug emoji, no one in NRC knows how to communicate and this includes Yuu.

“Well if Mount Moln is involved I might know someone who would be interested.  Not too sure if he’d be down for the sled race, though.” 

“There’s no need to be so shy prefect.”  He had interjected, fully intending to round on you and tease as soon as he was finished making his pitch to Epel.  But you, delightful, unpredictable, beautiful you had instead rolled your eyes at him once he obtained your friend’s blessing and went in on the attack.

“As cute as your self-confidence is, I wasn’t going to suggest you.”  Both he and Epel are left flustered as you sigh and turn to the most unexpected of persons.  “Idia you’re going to miss the QTE.”

“Cute.”  He pouts at your back, you’ve barely spared him a glance this trip unless prompted.  You had avoided commenting on his applepom Idia’s too but he certainly wasn’t paying extra attention to how you treated him, even after he spoke his mind about yours.  His sanity’s only current saving grace was the way your pupils had dilated the first time you had been forced to look at him; otherwise he might have been forced to assume all the careful months of dancing around your unspoken little attachment to one another was the misread of the century.

Thankfully he doesn’t have to wait much longer to find out what you are currently "arguing" about.  The entire trip is practically made worth it with the little stall Epel guides them to, filled with the bounty of the mountain he was so eager to witness.  His eyes dart over the stall, wondering if he can maybe convince Epel he should be allowed back sometime in the future when he has time to spare.  A month perhaps?

“... I have no idea what any of that meant.”  says Sebek as Jade rattles off plant names.

“Sounded like monster or mecha names to me.”  mutters Idia.  You sigh.

“He’s just using the scientific names for the plants; it's not that hard.”  He smiles as you finally move to his side, gladly adjusting to be as close to you as currently acceptable.

“Did you recognize any of them?”  Epel asks, genuinely impressed as you nod.

“I should hope so,” Jade interjects before you can respond “we certainly discuss plants enough in the Mountain Lover’s Club.”

“YOU’RE A MEMBER OF THE MOUNTAIN LOVER’S CLUB?”  Sebek asks at a completely normal volume and you roll your eyes, suddenly remembering that you’re supposed to be angry at Jade who is taking a bit too much pleasure in this revelation.

“Unfortunately.”  You mutter and Jade laughs.

“It’s just the two of us.”

“Oh so it’s Fungus when one of my friends invites me somewhere you want to go but fungi when it comes to storing the climbing gear?”  You huff and Jade blinks.  Oh.

OH.  He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.  So that’s what this was all about.

Jade turns towards you, eyes dangerously aglow as he lets out a pitiable, put upon sigh, slipping his right hand free of his glove.  “Darling,” he says with that toothy smile, in just condescending enough a tone you nearly miss the desire swimming in the subtext of how he traces your jawline with his long, cold fingers “you keep suggesting that I’m causing problems for myself on purpose.  If I’ve caused you distress, please do forgive me.”  He leans downward, gently pointedly kissing your forehead and nuzzling your hair, dropping his voice in both tone and volume to murmur in your ear.  “I assure you, I can reach our things just fine.” 

You really, really, r e a l l y want to shriek and cuss him out, but it’s all you can do to steady your breathing with how keenly aware you are of every eye in Kokko Market heavily judging you both.  Jade seems blissfully unconcerned, you know he’s not unaware, as he pulls his focus away from you and back to his purchase and Epel mercifully, though clearly judgemental, tugs you away with the rest of the group deeper into the market.

The merchant is trying hard not to laugh, though Jade quickly notes it’s not at him.

“I used to do the same thing.”  Jade’s polite smile returns, eyes darting momentarily to the small woman sitting next to the stall who appears to be competing in the reddest apple contest Epel mentioned earlier with the shade she’s turned.  “It’s just so cute to watch how far they’ll go before asking for help.”  

“It really is.”  He agrees, pulling his hand back into his glove as he prepares a few fake tears.  “Still I am worried I’ve gone a bit too far this time.”

“Aww chin up.”  the merchant finally audibly laughs.  “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make up for it.”  The red woman sighs, still embarrassed but settled enough to face him finally.

“If you’re looking for suggestions, I might have one in mind.”

~~~

You’re quite finished huffing and puffing by the time Epel allows them to take a break from sledding practice, though Jade’s presence still causes you to stiffen.  He apes embarrassment well enough, though you’d like to think you know enough about his acting that your skepticism is warranted. 

“I don’t suppose you have any comments to offer?”  he asks innocently enough.  “You seemed to be observing quite diligently.”  You snort, he’s practically screaming praise me.

“Not anything substantial.”  you dodge, still too flustered from earlier to even think about throwing Idia or anyone else under the bus again.  “I’m afraid plush sledding is beyond me.”  

“How disappointing, you seemed so enthralled with the animals earlier.”  You sigh and brace yourself, gearing up for another… conversation making the mistake of closing your eyes to center yourself.  “You know I was wondering something.  Earlier when Epel was talking about stuffed animals, he never bothered to ask about you.”  That was not where you were expecting the conversation to go, and when you look up at him he does seem interested to a degree.

“Stuffed animals are popular in my world.”  it sounds lame to say.  Sort of like confirming your world’s humans also breathe air.  You’re so embarrassed you find your gaze naturally drawn to your shoes as you kick lamely at the snow.  “Um.  I had a teddy bear when I was a kid I really liked.  That’s a sort of stuffed bear but it doesn’t look anything like Idia’s-”  Something soft hits the side of your face and you turn to look up at Jade in surprise.  You come face to face with a plush reindeer, similar to the one Jade’s been practicing with for the past few hours being pushed forward to boop your nose.  You sneeze as he laughs, tugging you forward into his arms when you attempt to take the plush; that familiar heat of embarrassment floods back into your chest as you try to resist the urge to squeeze it to death.

“How unfortunate.”  he sighs, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips similar to the way he looks when inspecting a plant he really likes, only this time he’s inspecting you.  “Here I was thinking I finally had a chance at making some progress, but you’re still talking about other men.”  He bends down to your level again, pressing his forehead to yours with a content sigh.  “You will be rooting for me I trust?”

“A bit greedy to want me all to yourself, don’t you think?”  There’s not even a hint of malice in your voice, you can’t bring yourself to pretend to be mad anymore as you try to focus on the gift and not your rapidly beating heart.

“Oya, are you saying I don’t already?”  and technically, no he does not.  He hasn’t asked, but that’s something you are content to keep fishing for later, for now you just blow a raspberry that he kisses into as you sigh in content.

*I left the merchant gender neutral since they aren't mentioned in game to my knowledge. I was picturing a cottage core lesbian couple though.

**I'd like to think originally no one joins the mountain lovers club because they're afraid of Jade and then after this Yuu joined everyone stayed extra far away because they didn't know what was going on, but they didn't want to be in the middle of it. Hence Sebek screaming and Epel judging.

#twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech x yuu #jade leech #harveston sledathon #harveston event

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Your sick little head, so brain damaged and lying in that hospital bed.

This art means a lot to me. It isn’t as rendered or polished as my other work, but I want it to look scrappy, messy, and still pretty. If you’d like to just read about the style and story of the art unrelated to myself, feel free to skip this section.

Last week I mentioned being in the hospital and the psych ward, and while I wont give extreme details, it was for an overdose. Recently after getting out I’ve been trying to act like nothing happened and it’s all going to go back to normal, but this is the 3rd time I’ve done it or been on the edge of it. Just last week I had to get rid of two of my cats just after I’d been discharged and that on top of the trauma of the whole situation I’ve just felt strangely empty. Overdoses don’t just come and go like that. The mental effects aside from whatever you took linger and hurt more than anything. “I’m doing better” really just means I’m not about to do it again, but those feelings are still stored somewhere deep inside me. For this specific piece I wanted to describe that feeling and wonder of “How would anyone feel if they found me? What will they do after?”

People don’t talk about Molly nearly as much as I think they should, but it’s understandable given that she has no set substance yet. For that reason I have made my own. The biggest thing I’ve mentioned before—in my Angel Dust headcanon post—is that I believe Molly is the one that found Anthony after he overdosed and called 911. The rest of his family was likely a bit worried, but I don’t think any of them cared as much as she did. Another headcanon of mine is that Anthony and Molly had matching rings with “AN” & “MO” engraved onto them. Molly sold her ring to pay for Anthonys funeral after his passing in the hospital and now wears Anthonys as replacement on her index finger which she eventually takes to heaven with her.

I don’t imagine she was able to visit him very often while he was in a coma but she still did when she could and would talk to him in hopes he could hear her a little bit before he left. It’d take a bit of a tangent but when sinners enter hell, in my mind entering hell takes as long as it did to die. So for Anthony it likely took him a week to a month to die during his coma from complications, and in turn, it took that same amount of time for him to full wake up in hell. Sinners to me are made and formed out of the ground in hell and wake up in a similar location to where they died. Angel Dust would’ve woken up alone in a hospital while his sister was now left alone and Anthony’s body likely already buried by then.

These are reasons why I included forget-me-nots and sweet peas as taped on decals. Their meanings being “Please don’t forget me” and “Goodbye, thank you for a wonderful time.” respectively. I also added the “M” wax seal over one of the sweet peas because I feel that it’s a sentiment that Molly held close to her heart and still does.

Molly’s body is torn from pink paper while Angel’s is blue paper. I intended for these to somewhat be seen as hands, like how the pink paper wraps over the forget-me-not when the blue paper lays beneath it to show Molly’s attempt to hold onto the memory of her brother while Angel is trying to remember his own life yet is unaware of what is happening to his sister now; unaware if she’s alive or not due to his poor keeping of time. Angel is also a scrap of paper glued above Molly’s hands to pretty genuinely symbolise they’re both in different dimensions now and can’t fully be apart of the same without the help of an external force. I also wanted to include more jumping spider elements so I’d like to think the string holding the tears is silk. Jumping spiders leave silk behind incase they fall so they can climb back up and when you put that in the form of a mentality I think Molly would fit into that very well.

I really hope we see more of Molly and I hope she had a good life and can see her brother again. Of course, she is a fictional character, but I can’t imagine the trauma she’s experienced in her life even without my personal headcanons. I love Molly a lot and just from how I personally interpret her she reminds me a lot of my mother.

Hopefully you can enjoy my ramblings and craze about these funny little spiders. 🩷

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin angel #angel dust hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin #angel hazbin hotel #angel dust #molly dust #molly hazbin hotel #hazbin molly #molly hazbin #hazbin hotel rewrite #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #anti vivziepop #anti hazbin #tw overdose #cw overdose #tw vent #tw sui implied #tw sui talk #tw sui attempt #tw suicide #cw sui attempt #my art #tw psych ward #cw psych ward

[k-s-morgan]

Hi, I hope you are safe and sound

I've been meaning to ask you a question about asexuality but was afraid it would be too personal. Your recent post is about, so I guess it's ok to ask, but if not, feel free to skip

I'm still young enough, going through my university years, but I've never felt attraction towards anyone. Even as a teenager at school. (Now, I'm not even sure if I can love anyone as a partner) Though I like reading romantic stories and do understand when a person is 'attractive' or not. So, the question is how/when did you understand that you are asexual and do you have any tips perhaps? It's just so upsetting for me to feel pressure from not only society but also my parents who expect me to find a lover and have a family

Hello! Oh, please don't worry, I don't mind any kind of personal questions as long as they are not deliberately offensive!

Asexuality means a lack of sexual attraction to anyone, but there is such thing as aesthetic attraction, meaning that you find some people aesthetically pleasing, very beautiful, etc. From what you said, you might be referring to it. Asexuals are perfectly capable of evaluating the general attractiveness of a person and they might even have their preferred ideal of beauty.

In my case: for a long time, I was confused because I felt aesthetic attraction., and like, I adored reading and writing and watching romance stories. It's my favorite genre. All of this made me think that I’m bisexual, and I identified as such. But even when I admired a person’s beauty, it was more like admiring a painting. I felt no desire to do anything sexual with them (or anything romantic). When I saw a great character, I wanted to ship them with someone instead of seeing myself with them.

When I read about asexuality, something finally clicked, and I was thrilled with understanding who I am. I never doubted it since I found my label around 23, and I knew at that point that I’m just not attracted to people, neither romantically nor sexually. If you live that long and you never experience what other people do, to me, it's a clear indication that you're different in some way. I was excited to find the source of this difference.

The most important thing is what and how you feel. You can find a definition that describes you best and makes you feel comfortable; you can change your mind later. Many people dislike labels in general; I felt pleased when I found one, but we all have different experiences. Just try not to push yourself into something you don’t want or don’t like. Even if others don’t respect your sexuality/preferences, respect them yourself and I think (and hope) that you’ll be happy.  

I understand about feeling pressure, and I'm sorry. I wish I knew what to say here. My immediate family is very supportive, but everyone else is often annoying. I’ve never dated anyone, I never felt romantic or sexual interest to anyone; I had my first kiss + sex out of curiosity when I was 22, and it didn’t change anything in me - it was just a weird, very mechanical activity. But my friends and most of my relatives still say stuff like, “Oh, honey, you just haven’t met the right person yet! Have you tried therapy? I hope this year, you’ll find the love of your life! Would you like me to set you up with my friend?” My Mom tried to explain to her co-workers why I don’t plan on getting married, and they all refuse to accept that asexuality exists. They think I must be hiding some trauma. This is extremely offensive and infuriating. 

Sexuality is a part of who you are. I try to make people around me understand it, but they just blink at me in confusion. I ask heterosexual folks, “Why are you so sure you are straight? Maybe you just haven’t find the right man/woman.” When my aunt wished me to find a partner for the 100th time, I waited for her birthday and wished her to become a surgeon (she never had any relation or interest in medicine). She seemed to understand something, but a few months later, we were back to where we started. Still, maybe something like this could help you?

I'm comfortable and happy with myself, so while other people are a source of occasional frustration, their opinions don't really affect me.

I don't know how aggravating your situation is or might get, so the only thing I can say is that I hope you remember that your happiness with yourself matters most. You might figure out what label fits you best, you might start/keep changing them - as long as you’re comfortable with who you are, it’s all fine!

#personal #asexuality #aroace #asexual aromantic #sexuality

[canirove]

The Nanny Diaries | Chapter 1

Summary: Have you ever watched that movie with Scarlett Johansson where she works as a nanny for a very rich family, and Chris Evans is her very hot and cute neighbour? Well, that’s kind of been my life for the past few months. Hot neighbour included.

Author’s note: This story has been on my drafts for ages, and I wasn’t planning on posting it because when I finished it I didn’t like it that much. I even wrote a different version with someone else. But the the other day someone liked the “imagine” that inspired it, and sinde I don’t have anything else finished to post besides “Bluebell”, I said, why not? I’m sure worst things have been posted 😅

I hope you enjoy it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

Next chapter

Masterlist

Have you ever watched that movie with Scarlett Johansson where she works as a nanny for a very rich family, and Chris Evans is her very hot and cute neighbour? Well, that’s kind of been my life for the past few months.

It all started when my friend Alice asked me to drive her to a photoshoot she was working in as a make-up artist. It was at a park, and they allowed people to watch as long as they didn’t bother anyone on set.

I sat on a corner next to where Alice had all her things, and just watched my friend and her colleagues work. But the one who wasn’t in the mood for just sit and watch, was Levi, the model’s three-year-old son. He kept running away from her while Alice was doing her make-up, wanting to be free and explore. And on one of those trips, he found me.

He came running towards me, falling at my feet and starting to cry. His mum was busy shooting and I didn’t want to distract her, so I picked one of Alice’s brushes and used it on his knee as if it was a magic wand.

“See? Completely healed.”

“That isn’t a magic wand” Levi said, pointing at the brush.

“Ok, fine. It is a magic brush.”

“Brushes aren’t magical.”

“This one is” I said, shaking it in front of him.

“What can it do?”

“It can turn people into animals.”

“Really?” Levi asked, his eyes wide.

“Watch this” I said, pointing the brush at myself and starting to meow, making him laugh.

“But you didn’t turn into a real cat!” he said with a big smile.

“Meow?” I said before using the brush again. “Sorry, I forgot to undo the spell.”

He laughed again, and that’s how we spent the rest of the shoot, making the other turn into different animals, other members of the crew also joining our game.

“Thank you so much for keeping him entertained” Levi’s mum said when she had finished shooting.

“Oh, it was nothing” I replied with a smile.

“Mummy, can I take this home with me?” Levi asked, showing her the brush we had been playing with.

“You’ll have to ask her” she said, nodding towards me.

“Take it, Alice won’t mind. And besides” I said, lowering my voice “she doesn’t know how to use it to make magic the way we do.”

A few days later, Alice called me.

“Remember the kid from the other day? Levi?”

“I do. Why?”

“His mum just sent me a dm on Instagram asking for your phone number. She’s wondering if you would like to take care of him while she is at work.”

“She wants me to be his nanny?”

“Something like that. Are you interested? She said she will pay you, money isn’t an issue with her. And since you are currently jobless…”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

Flashforward to the present. I’ve been working for the Kloss family for three months now. At first I was just staying with Levi for a few hours here and there while his mum was at work. Then, a couple of days, spending the night at their house because Mrs. Kloss had to shoot in a different city or country, and Mr. Kloss was busy with work. And right now, I’m living with them. With her, her husband, Levi, and their housekeeper, Mrs. McKenzie. And I’m doing it properly, with my own room and everything, one way bigger than the one I had at my old apartment. Though my whole apartment probably fits just on the area designed for the staff.

And I’m not gonna lie… I love living with the Klosses. They are lovely, and so far I haven’t felt mistreated in any shape or form. I have a really good salary, I live in the most expensive and poshest area of the city (which is gorgeous), and if I need a free day that isn’t among the ones we have agreed to, they don’t say no as long as it fits with their schedule.

I’m walking back home on one of those days after a date with a really nice guy, when I spot a group of young men standing at the door of my building, laughing and screaming. Great. Drunk men, just what I need to end my night.

“Excuse me” I say to one of them. “I need to get into the building.”

“What?” the guy says, turning around to look at me.

“I live here. Do you mind moving?”

“Only if you kiss me first” he says with a stupid smile.

“Jack, don’t be a jerk and let her through” one of the other guys says.

“I was going to start the night with a kiss and you just ruined it for me.”

“Did you see her face, bro? She wasn’t going to kiss you. I actually think she was going to kick you and leave with you without offspring.”

“Off… what?”

“Nevermind. Move and let the girl pass.”

“Ok” says the first guy, Jack.

“Sorry about him. Sometimes he can be a bit… you know.”

“It’s ok, don’t worry” I say, properly looking at my savior. And damn, he is gorgeous. I don’t usually use that word with men, but it is the only one that works with him. Those eyes, that smile, that hair… Gorgeous.

“Evening Mr. Chilwell” the doorman says. “I thought you were leaving.”

“I was, but the lady here needed to get home.”

“Oh, miss, I hadn’t seen you. I’m very sorry.”

“Don’t worry Louis” I say with a smile.

“Is there anything else you may need?” he asks.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Good” he says, going back to his usual spot.

“I didn’t know I had a new neighbour. Where do you live?”

“Third floor, with the Kloss family.”

“Oh, you must be Levi’s babysitter.”

“Yep, that’s me.”

“You definitely are an improvement from the one they had before. She was… Well. Hard to look at.”

“Rude.”

“But true” he shrugs.

“Still rude.”

“If you say so…”

If I say so? What an idiot.

“I better go, I have to wake up early tomorrow” I say, moving towards the door. “You should go back to your friends, make sure they aren’t bothering more girls.”

“They aren’t bad guys.”

“If you say so…” I say, using his same tone.

“Why are you mad?” he asks, running a hand through his hair and making me feel… things.

“I am not mad” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “Pissed? Maybe.”

“Because I called a woman ugly?”

“Exactly.”

“Whatever” he says, rolling his eyes. Those beautiful eyes of his.

“Yes, whatever. Goodnight, Mr. Chilwell” I say, walking into the lobby.

“Wait. Can I at least get a goodbye kiss? For being a gentleman and saving you from Jack.”

“You want what?” I say, not believing what I just heard.

“A kiss” he says with an innocent smile. Innocent. This guy. Ha!

“If you had any chance of getting one, which you didn’t, you completely lost it by behaving like a jerk.”

“Oh, c’mon” he complains.

“Goodnight” I say again, walking away from him.

“You are gonna end up falling for me, you know?” he says behind me. “No one has ever resisted to me. No one.”

“You are so humble, Mr. Chilwell” I snort.

“It’s Ben. My name is Ben. And it is what it is. You will fall for me just like all the others do.”

“In your dreams” I reply, daring to look at him while I wait for the lift.

“Oh, I will definitely see you there tonight…. Neighbour” he says before joining his friends outside and giving me a smile that, again, makes me feel things. And he knows it. He totally knows it.

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader #football fanfic #football imagine

[coochiequeens]

Su Min is an inspiring woman

In late 2020 Su Min left her unhappy marriage behind and hit the road. The 58-year-old retiree had raised her family and done her duties, and her husband, she says, was treating her badly. So she studied online videos about road trips and set off across Chinaalone in a VW hatchback with her pension and a rooftop tent.

As she travelled, Su filmed and posted videos and diaries of her journey, speaking candidly of her dissatisfying life of housework. She also marvelled at the beauty of the country she was finally exploring, and made new friends.

Su built a following of millions and regularly trended on social media, featuring in a Net-A-Porter advertisement for International Women’s Day.

As Su travelled and her fame grew, many women saw her as an accidental feminist icon, for rejecting the traditional expectations of a housewife and grandmother and taking control of her life. She shyly dismisses the moniker and says she’s not that famous, but enjoys how often she is stopped on the street, and how older women in particular have related to her story.

“As an ordinary housewife, someone who no one pays attention to on the street, to now have a lot of people see me and 

recognise me, this means there is an improvement in my life ,” Su tells the Guardian via Zoom. “I am at least acknowledged, and I think a life in which you are acknowledged is really good.”

Su had married in her early 20s. After growing up in Tibet and moving to Henan after high school she married after meeting her future husband just a few times. She says the marriage soon became unhappy, but she didn’t leave, fearing the strong social stigma around divorces.

Her husband has not spoken publicly about her trip or her accusations against him.

Change came in 2019 when Su saw an online video about someone living what has been popularised in the west as “van life”, and made a decision: when the grandchildren she was helping to care for entered kindergarten, she would leave, and she has barely looked back since.

“I met many like-minded travel pals, and fans who like me, so my life is wonderful on the road,” Su says. “I am very fulfilled, and so there is no feeling of loneliness or discomfort. On the road, my friends keep me company.”

Along her journey she upgraded the hatchback to a campervan. “I finally have my own home,” she told viewers in one post. “In the past, many things don’t belong to me in my family. There was not my name on those things. But my name is finally on this van now.”

Last month, after two years, 80,000 kilometres, 10 provinces and 200 cities, Su came home.

She returned to Henan province to spend the mid-autumn festival with her family, and to tell her husband she wanted a divorce. Su says her husband made no contact with her the entire time she was away.

The reunion, filmed and uploaded to her social media, appears awkward and hostile. In the video her husband seems to make comments about her return, saying she couldn’t survive out there any longer. One Weibo discussion hashtag about the video has been viewed more than 380m times, with streams of mostly supportive comments.

“I’m so happy for her! Su Min has changed,” said one commenter. “She can finally be free, so she is changing her fate. Go, Su Min!”

Su says she has the support of her children in seeking a divorce, and hopes her husband will grant her one. But if he doesn’t, she will just continue her travels.

“Divorce is just a piece of paper, it doesn’t have much meaning,” she says. “I won’t have a second family or seek other partners anyway, I will rely on myself … My husband did not interfere with my travelling, so if I go on the road again, he will just let me be.”

Additional reporting by Xiaoqian Zhu and Chi Hui Lin

#Inspiring women #china #su min

[impishtubist]

finish your shit december, part 2

I challenged myself this month to just finish all the things that are lingering in my drafts folder. Either that, or post the abandoned stuff so someone else can enjoy it. 

Part 1 is here. I posted 45K of an abandoned Remus/James raising Harry fic on AO3:  love's such an old-fashioned word. 

Part 2 is an abandoned fic where Sirius and Remus raise Harry, and Sirius has a difficult time with Harry calling him “dad”. It’s not a new trope and it’s been done so many times that I don’t feel like I have anything original to add to it, so I’m not going to finish it. 

So, without further ado, here are 1800 words of feelings about Sirius being called “dad.” Some of these scenes are unfinished, so they start and/or end abruptly. That’s just the way it’s going to be, sorry! 

-----

The first time Harry calls Sirius dad, it’s a punch to the gut. 

It’s a sticky evening in August. The late-summer air is thick and cloying when Sirius Apparates to Ottery St Catchpole, and he’s drenched in sweat by the time he reaches the Burrow, even though it’s only a short walk from the designated Apparition point. He steps into the blessedly-cool house and is immediately set upon by several delighted children. 

“Hello, Ginny m’dear,” he says, sweeping the youngest Weasley child into his arms, and she giggles when he kisses her cheek. “Percy, George, Fred, hullo. Ron, what’ve you got there? Oh, yes, that’s a very nice toad. Harry, lad, are you ready--”

“Dad!” Harry breaks through the crowd of Weasleys to latch onto Sirius’s hand. “Come see!” 

Sirius must black out for a moment. All of a sudden, he’s in the back garden, with no idea how he got there. Ginny is no longer in his arms--oh, Molly has her, good--and Harry is chattering happily away about a piece of art he’s made. Sirius’s mind is blank except for dad dad dad dad.

Dad is James. Dad is reserved for the man who wept the first time he held his son, for the man who was Sirius’s brother in all but blood, for the man who gave his life in hopes that it would give his wife and child time to escape. 

Sirius isn’t dad. He doesn’t deserve that title, not after his actions got James killed and made Harry an orphan.

“Harry,” he says softly, crouching next to the boy, taking the picture from his hands to examine it, “I’m Pads, remember?”

Harry gives him an odd look. “Yeah, I know.”

“Okay.” Sirius decides not to press the point, instead choosing to praise Harry’s artwork. “This looks great, Prongslet. Shall we find a place to hang it up at home? I think Uncle Moony would love to have it in his study.” 

***

The next time it happens, Sirius is trying to get dressed and pack a suitcase at the same time. He’s already missed his Portkey, which means he’s going to have to Floo, and the International Floos at the Ministry are hell this hour of night. At this rate, he’ll be lucky if he arrives in enough time to snatch a couple hours of sleep in his hotel room before the conference starts tomorrow.

Remus is down the hall, giving Harry a bath. From the sounds of it, he’s having about as much luck with that as Sirius is with his packing. Harry’s voice is high and distressed, and though Sirius can’t make out the words, he can tell that the boy is on the brink of a complete meltdown. He’s had a long day, and it’s already half an hour past his bedtime, and Sirius is leaving him for the first time. Remus is doing his best to soothe him, but it’s a losing battle. 

Sirius closes his suitcase and latches it just as tiny feet come pounding down the hall and hurtle into the bedroom. Harry, naked and wet, latches on to his leg and wails, “Daddy, no!” 

Remus skids into the bedroom, holding a towel.

“Harry James, for Merlin’s sake,” he mutters, crouching to wrap Harry in the ridiculously fluffy yellow towel. Harry squirms, trying to break free, but Remus gets him wrapped snugly in the towel and lifts him into his arms. “Sirius has to leave, but he’ll be back--”

“No,” Harry cries, reaching a hand out to Sirius. “Don’ leave, Daddy, no!”

There’s no mistaking what he’s said, not when Remus instantly pales. Sirius can’t pretend that he misheard it, that Harry said Pads instead. 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius manages, and he doesn’t know who he’s apologizing to. Harry, for leaving? James, for usurping his place in Harry’s life? 

I never wanted this, James. I never wanted to take this from you. 

Remus recovers first. He bounces Harry gently in his arms and says, “Pads is coming back, Harry. It’s only for a couple of days.” 

Harry sobs, still reaching for Sirius. Sirius doesn’t know what to do. He stands frozen, warring with himself. He always comes when Harry calls for him, always, ever since that awful Halloween night when he pulled Harry from the wreckage of his home. Harry had sobbed for Pafoo and Sirius had been there. And now he’s just going to leave Harry? For a medical conference? 

“Go,” Remus tells him over Harry’s cries. “Sirius, go. This is important. We’ll be fine.” 

It’s a conference on new, experimental treatments for cursed wounds. It could change countless lives. Sirius still wants to throw it all away, because Harry is asking for him. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever forgive himself if he walks away now. 

“Harry, give Pads a kiss,” Remus says in a cheerful voice, and Harry stops crying long enough for Sirius to cover his pudgy cheeks in kisses. 

“I love you,” he whispers. Then, he kisses Remus, grabs his suitcase, and practically flees the room. 

Harry’s wretched sobs echo in his ears for days. 

***

None of the dozens of parenting books Sirius read in the first few months after Harry came to live with him prepared him for the horrid, soul-sucking pain of hearing his best friend’s child call him Dad. He doesn’t know how to deal with this. He’d tried to correct Harry, once, gently reminding him that he already has a dad and that Sirius is perfectly happy being Padfoot, but it all ended in tears. 

“Sirius, he doesn’t even remember James,” Remus tells him softly in bed one night. “You’re all that he knows.”

“We’ve told him about James and Lily.”

“But it doesn’t mean anything to him. Yes, we tell him that he had parents and that they’re gone now, but I don’t think he grasps what that means yet. Because as far as he’s concerned, he’s already got two parents who take care of him and love him.” 

“James would hate me if he knew,” Sirius mutters. 

“What are you talking about? Of course he wouldn’t.” Remus strokes Sirius’s hair. “Sirius, what do you think the point of making you godfather was? That it was just something James and Lily did on a whim? That it was just symbolic? They wanted you to raise Harry if anything happened to them. We all know that James is his father, but to Harry, you’re the only father he knows.” 

“So I should just let him call me dad?”

“That’s what you are to him,” Remus says. “And I’m afraid if you push back on it too much, he’s going to start to think that you don’t want him.” 

“James should be the one who’s here for him.”

“But he’s not,” Remus says gently. “We are.” 

***

When illness descends upon the Potter-Lupin-Black household, it usually takes them all out at once, and Harry is typically the culprit. Not that he can help it, but he is the only one of them who spends his day surrounded by thirty other less-than-hygienic five-year-olds, and so he often brings their illnesses home to his guardians. Remus is usually the one who is affected the least, but this time it’s only two days until the full moon and he’s already moonsick, so catching the ‘flu from Harry knocks him immediately out of commission. Sirius, though he feels like death himself, can’t curl up in bed next to his lover like he so desperately wants to. Someone has to look after Harry.

“Sick, Siri,” Harry moans against his shoulder, his skin fever-hot and burning through Sirius’s shirt. 

“I know, baby.” Sirius paces the kitchen, rubbing Harry’s back as the boy clings to him. He’s already given Harry the maximum amount of pain potion and fever reducer allowed for a child his age, so now there’s nothing to do but wait it out. Harry’s too young for a sleeping draught and too uncomfortable to fall asleep without one. The only thing Sirius can do is offer him this paltry comfort.

Slowly, Harry grows heavy against his shoulder, and his wheezing breaths start to even out. Sirius aches all over and his head is spinning and there’s a fierce pounding behind his eyes, but he keeps up his steady pacing. Anything to keep Harry calm and comfortable. 

When Harry finally goes limp against him, Sirius carries him upstairs. He eases Harry carefully onto his bed, drawing up the blankets and tucking him in. 

“Stay.” A small hand grasps his finger just as Sirius shifts his weight, preparing to get up. “Daddy stay.” 

“Daddy has to go to bed, too,” Sirius says softly. The word is ash in his mouth, and his eyes sting. I’m sorry, James, I’m so sorry. 

“Stay,” Harry says again, his voice wavering, and how can Sirius say no to that? 

“Okay, Haz,” he whispers. Harry’s bed is much too large for the five-year-old, but can fit them both easily. Sirius scoots up to lay next to Harry, his head on the other pillow, his body curled around Harry’s. 

***

On the morning of Harry’s sixth birthday, he wakes them both up at dawn by climbing into bed with them. He thinks he’s being quiet and subtle, but he’s all knobby knees and sharp elbows, and they both come awake instantly.

“Harry,” Remus groans, shoving his head under his pillow. Sirius, more of a morning person than Remus is, merely chuckles and cuddles Harry close.

“Let’s give Moony five more minutes, hm?” he murmurs, knowing that if he can get Harry to lie quiet and still for a moment, he’ll inevitably fall asleep again. 

“No,” Harry says, sticking out his lower lip. He’s clutching a book in both hands, and he says, “Papa read?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, Remus surfaces from under the pillow. He stares incredulously at Harry, who rolls over to face him. 

“Papa?” he tries again, and though Sirius can’t see him, he knows Harry’s giving Remus the biggest puppy-dog eyes he can muster. “Please?”

Remus seems incapable of speech, so Sirius clears his throat and plucks the book from Harry’s hands. “How about I read to you, sprog?” 

“No,” Harry says again. “Papa does voices.” 

“Papa does do the best voices,” Sirius says, shooting Remus an imploring look. Remus can fall apart about this later, just like Sirius did a couple of years ago

Remus clears his throat and sits up, the blankets pooling in his lap. He pats his thigh, and Harry crawls over to him, presenting him with the book. It’s a wizarding children’s story about a prince who falls in love with a dragon, and it’s been Harry’s favorite for the past three months. Sirius can recite the whole thing in his sleep, but Harry’s right--Remus does it better. 

***

Sirius steps into the house and knows immediately that something is off. The house is quiet. Too quiet. When you have a seven-year-old--especially a seven-year-old who is the progeny of James Potter--silence is suspicious. This is the kind of quiet that means the house’s inhabitants are Up To Something. 

“Remus?” he calls cautiously, shutting the door behind him. “Harry?”

“In here, Pads,” Remus says, and Sirius follows the sound of his voice to the main room. Remus is seated in the armchair closest to the fire, his knees pressed together, bending over something that’s on his lap. Harry stands next to him, peering intently at whatever it is that Remus is tending to. 

“What’ve you got there?” Sirius asks, setting down his bag and shedding his jacket. He drapes it over the back of the couch.

“Come see,” Harry says, grabbing Sirius’s hand and pulling him over to the armchair. “I found her.” 

It’s a kitten. She’s tiny, far too young to be away from her mother, and Remus is painstakingly bottle-feeding her. 

“She was in the garden,” Remus supplies without looking up. “The mother cat isn’t anywhere nearby.”

And Remus would know, his werewolf senses able to scent her in an instant if she was around. 

“Can we keep her?” Harry asks.

“Ah, well…” 

“I told him that he had to ask you,” Remus says, the traitor.

“Cats are a lot of work,” Sirius tries.

“I can take care of her,” Harry says. “Moony got me a book.”

“Did he, now?” Sirius says, trying to shoot Remus a glare, but Remus is ignoring him. Of course.

“Please?” Harry tugs on his hand, looking up at him with wide, imploring eyes. “She doesn’t have a mum, just like me. I can look after her.” 

Sirius drags a hand down his face. Oh, how this kid has played him. Despite himself, he feels faintly proud. 

“Yes, fine,” he says, and Harry shouts in glee. “But she’s your responsibility, Harry.” 

“I know. Thank you, Dad!” Harry throws his arms around Sirius’s waist, squeezing him tightly. Remus also gives Sirius a pleased smile, and Sirius rolls his eyes. As if he could ever deny the two of them anything.

Harry spends the rest of the evening attending to the kitten, learning how to bottle-feed her from Remus and debating various names for her. He rejects all of Sirius’s suggestions (even though Sirius thought that “Salome” was an excellent choice, actually, and “Minnie” was a close second) and eventually settles on Cleo. 

“S’pose she’s kind of cute,” Sirius says when they’re up in the middle of the night to feed her. She’s still tiny, too young to be away from her mother, and needs feeding every few hours. Remus wasn’t about to make Harry get up to do it. 

“Want to hold her?” Remus asks, and Sirius snorts. 

“Nah, ‘m not a cat person.” 

***

He’s been a Healer for the better part of ten years now, but no part of his training adequately prepares him for the sight of Harry, pale as death, standing at the bottom of the stairs with blood streaming down his arm and dripping onto the floor. 

“Sorry about the carpet, Padfoot,” Harry says weakly.

***

Sirius is napping on the couch when the Floo roars and Harry comes tumbling out of it, followed closely by Remus. The boy’s talking a mile a minute, excitedly recounting to Remus every moment of his weekend with the Weasleys. Remus takes Harry by the shoulders and steers him quickly into the kitchen, murmuring, “Harry, we talked about this, Dad isn’t feeling well, so we need to keep it down.” 

Their voices fall to quiet murmurs, and Sirius drifts off again. 

Remus wakes him at dinnertime with a glass of water and some more potions. Sometime during his nap, Cleo had joined him, and she’s curled up and purring on his stomach. 

“‘m not a cat person,” Sirius mutters dejectedly. Cleo, oblivious to this fact, purrs away.

“I know, darling,” Remus says, sounding amused. “But Cleo seems to think otherwise. Come on, potions first, and then some food.” 

Sirius grimaces as he swallows the potions, then manages half a bowl of soup. Remus goes off to make dinner for himself and Harry, but Cleo is content to stay right where she is.

“You’re s’posed to be Harry’s, y’know,” Sirius murmurs to her. 

Cleo only purrs louder. 

***

Sirius hadn’t been prepared for the memories that would slap him in the face when he stepped onto Platform 9 ¾. Seeing the Hogwarts Express for the first time in many years--and yet, at the same time, in hardly any time at all--transports him instantly back twenty years ago, to the day that changed his life for good. 

Remus’s hand finds his and squeezes. Harry’s taking everything in with wide, wondrous eyes. 

“Got everything?” Sirius asks him, even though he knows that Harry does. The boy’s been packed since mid-summer, and if by any chance he’s forgotten anything, Sirius can owl it to him immediately.

“Yep.” Harry looks at them both, sudden apprehension tingeing his expression. “I should...probably go find a compartment?”

“Probably,” Remus says. “We’re cutting it a little bit close. I’m sure Ron and Neville are already here, and you can sit with them.” 

Ron is indeed already on the train, and Remus helps Harry get his trunk and Hedwig settled in his compartment. Sirius opens his arms for a hug, and Harry falls into them. He’s so thankful for this boy who is as affectionate as James was, and hugs him tightly.

“Don’t forget to write to us,” he says. 

“I won’t.” 

“And use the mirror if you need it.”

“I will.” 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dad.” Harry presses his face into Sirius’s chest. Sirius squeezes him tighter.

“We’ll see you at Christmas, baby.” He drops a kiss on top of Harry’s head, then releases him so that he can hug Remus.

#sirius black #harry potter #remus lupin #wolfstar #imp is writing #wolfstar raising harry #finish your shit december

[archduchessofnowhere]

What the tea on Maria Carolina? You said in one of your posts: “Maria Carolina truthers know she's the most interesting daughter and the one there should be hundreds of books and movies about, but the general audiences haven't seen the light yet.” I’m intrigued

Hi! Sorry it took me so long; I was reading a book about the Bourbons in Naples and I wanted to finish it to be able to give a more complete answer… but it ended up taking me MONTHS to be done with it.

This answer was a bit difficult to put together because Maria Carolina’s life was very eventful, so I’ll just mention some facts about her life, focusing more on the Napoleonic era and Napoleon specifically because I think you’ll be more interested in that. Also please feel free to correct me If I got something wrong, since this is a time period I’ve only started to learn about recently. So what was the tea?

Born in 1752 Maria Carolina was the thirteenth child of Empress Maria Theresia and Franz I, Holy Roman Emperor. As part of her mother’s policies of rapprochement to the Bourbons, she and her siblings were engaged to different members of the houses of Spain, France, Parma and Naples. Maria Carolina was promised to the Dauphin of France, but when her elder sister, promised to the King of Naples, died of smallpox, she took her place.

Ferdinando of Naples had been a child king, and he remained so for the rest of his life. His only diversions were hunting and pulling pranks on his courtiers, and he had a terrible reputation across the courts of Europe as an uneducated, bad mannered, spoiled man, kept in ignorance by his Ministers so they could control him. Everyone pitied the young Archduchess’ fate, her mother Maria Theresia wrote around the time of Maria Carolina’s wedding that she “trembled in fear for her”. But duty came first, and so she went to Naples, aged only sixteen.

Maria Carolina did not had it easy at first. She was terribly homesick and found herself in a court that could not have been more different to the one she grew up in. When her sister Maria Antonia married the Dauphin of France, she wrote to her former aya:

When I imagine that her fate will perhaps be the same as mine, I want to write volumes to her on the subject, and I very much hope that she has someone like me [to advise her] at the beginning. If not, to be frank, she may succumb to despair. One suffers real martyrdom, which is all the greater because one must pretend outwardly to be happy. I know what it is like, and I pity those who have yet to face it… I would rather die than endure again what I went through at the beginning. Now all is well, which is why I can say—and this is no exaggeration—that if my faith had not told me, ‘Set your mind on God,’ I would have killed myself.

Unsurprisingly Maria Carolina didn’t fall head over heels for her husband, but she did convince him that she had, and eventually won his affection. After she bore a son in 1775 she earned a seat in the State Council (as her marriage contract established), and from that point onward she became an active player in Neapolitan politics. One of her firsts moves was to remove the Secretary of State, Marchese Tanucci, who had been Regent during her husband’s minority and still held a huge influence over him.

After Tanucci’s dismissal she became the person with the most influence over Ferdinando, and she pretty much had him wrapped around her finger for most of their marriage, acting as the de facto ruler of Naples. Every decision the king took was only after consulting his wife, and she often had the final say. However, this didn’t meant Maria Carolina held absolute power: Ferdinando was still a very unpredictable person, and as soon as his wife was out of his favor he stopped listening to her.

Maria Carolina was enthusiastic about the ideas of the Enlightenment, as many other royals were at first, and even protected and encouraged the Masons in Naples during her early years as queen. But she was still the consort of an absolute monarch that believed they were chosen by God to rule, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that she was horrified by the French Revolution and fervently opposed it. If it were for her, she would've declared war on France immediately, but this was not possible. On the execution of her brother-in-law Louis XVI she wrote:

Knowing your upright mind, I can imagine your emotion on hearing of the appalling crime perpetrated against the unfortunate King of France in all solemnity, tranquillity and illegality (…) He was the head of our family, our kinsman, cousin and brother-in-law. What an atrocious example! What an execrable nation! I know nothing about the other wretched victims in the Temple. If sorrow does not kill them, other horrors may be expected from this horde of assassins. I hope that the ashes of this good Prince, of this too good Prince who has suffered shame and infamy for four years culminating in execution, will implore a striking and visible vengeance from divine Justice, and that on this account the Powers of Europe will have no more than a single united will, since it is a matter in which they are all involved.

She was growing increasingly anxious about her sister, Queen Marie Antoinette, and her hatred for France became an obsession:

I hear horrible details from that infernal Paris. At every moment, at every noise and cry, every time they enter her room, my unfortunate sister kneels, prays and prepares for death. The inhuman brutes that surround her amuse themselves in this manner: day and night they bellow on purpose to terrorize her and make her fear death a thousand times. Death is what one may wish for the poor soul, and it is what I pray God to send her that she may cease to suffer. . . . I should like this infamous nation to be cut to pieces, annihilated, dishonoured, reduced to nothing for at least fifty years. I hope that divine chastisement will fall visibly on France, destroyed by the glorious arms of Austria.

At this point she had lost all hopes of her being rescued, and wished her “a natural death as the best thing that could happen to her”. But even though she had been waiting for it, the news of Marie Antoinette’s execution still shocked her. She wept and prayed with her children for “her wretched sister”.

Naples fell into a social crisis during these years, paranoia, fear and suspicion of the revolution in every corner. There was an active persecution of everyone thought to be a “jacobin”, arrests, trials and executions. But the country couldn’t wage war against France, and eventually they had to sign a peace treaty, which the Queen disapproved: “I am not and never shall be on good terms with the French… I shall always regard them as the murderers of my sister and the royal family”.

It was also during this time that the star of a certain Bonaparte started to rise, and Maria Carolina followed his career with interest and admiration. Before the treaty of Campo Fornio in October 17, 1797, she wrote about Napoleon:

I admire him, and my sole regret is that he serves so detestable cause. I should like the fall of the Republic, but the preservation of Bonaparte. For he is really a great man; and when one can only see ministries and sovereigns with petty and narrow views, one is all the more pleased and astonished to watch such a man rise and increase in power, while deploring that his grandeur is attached to so infernal a cause. This may seem strange to you. But while I loathe his operations, I admire the man. I hope that his plans will miscarry and his enterprises fail; at the same time I wish for his personal happiness and glory so long as it is not at our expense… If he dies they should reduce him to powder and give a dose of it to each ruling sovereign, and two to each of their ministers, then things would go better.

Soon she would have less nicer things to say about Naps, but she never lost that original admiration and astonishment.

In 1798 Ferdinando, encouraged by his wife and the British, led a expedition in December to try to expel the French from Rome. Not only the Neapolitan troops weren’t prepared to defeat the French Army, they were also technically still at peace with France, so this wasn’t a good move at all, and only two days after entering Rome Ferdinando had to retreat. Expectedly, Napoleon’s reaction to such a break of peace was marching over Naples. The royal family had to flee to Sicily, a tragic journey in which Maria Carolina’s six-years-old son Alberto died after a series of convulsions.

This ask is already too long to unpack all the political mess around the short-lived Parthenopean Republic, so to summ it up: it didn’t work out, and by 1799 the Bourbons were back in power. They were unforgiving of the republicans: during the following months there were thousands of arrest and hundreds of executions and deportations. Maria Carolina felt no mercy for them: “Death for the ringleaders, deportation for the rest... Our country must be purged of this infection”.

The Queen returned to Naples in August 1802, after more than three years of absence. She had never been a liked queen, but her unpopularity reached a new low since she was blamed for all the misfortunes of the last years. Having lost the influence she had on her husband, who held her responsible for the Rome expedition fiasco, she meddled a little less in politics now, dedicating mainly to her children and grandchildren, particularly to her unmarried daughters.

Speaking of her children, she had seventeen (!!!) but she would outlive fourteen of them. Part of her masterplan for them was to marry them all to her Habsburg nephews and nieces, and in many cases she succeeded. Just to name one exemple her eldest daughter Maria Theresa married Emperor Franz II/I of Austria. Maria Carolina’s relationship with this son-in-law ended up being a bit tense, since Franz found her mostly meddlesome and never aligned with her plans. On top of that, she was quite hurt when Franz remarried only months after her daughter’s death; after he announced his engagement she stopped adressing him as her son and resorted only to “Your Majesty” instead.

In 1804 Napoleon became Emperor, and we have a letter she wrote to Minister Gallo on this. Buckle up because whatever you imagine her reaction was, you aren’t ready for it:

It was not worth the trouble to condemn and slaughter the best of kings [Louis XVI], dishonour and revile a woman, a daughter of Maria Theresa, a holy princess [Marie Antoinette], to wallow in massacres, shootings, drownings, and kill six hundred prelates in a church, perpetrating horrors of the most barbarous ages at home and abroad, writing whole libraries on liberty, happiness, etc., and at the end of fourteen years become the abject slaves of a little Corsican whom an incredible fortune enabled to exploit all means to succeed, marrying without honour or decency the cast-off strumpet of whom the murderer Barras was surfeited, Turkish or Mohammedan in Egypt, atheist at the start, dragging the Pope after him and letting him die in prison, a devout Catholic after that, practising every deceit, shortening the lives and normal careers of sovereigns who might assert themselves, only allowing the dummies to vegetate, then atrociously, without a shadow of justice, assassinating the Duc d'Enghien, plotting himself (and he did not blush to admit it, so blinded is he by passion) a conspiracy to victimize the rulers he still feared, and on top of all these abominations he is acclaimed as Emperor: he and his race of Corsican bastards are to dominate almost half Europe, yet every thinking person is not revolted. Far from it, their egoism and weakness are such that they study how low they can prostrate themselves before the new idol… Send me word of the august Emperor’s intentions regarding Italy: whether he will deign to accept us as his slaves or will leave us in our obscurity… Tell me what the other Powers are saying. I imagine a Gloria in Excelsis Demonio will be the general refrain…

She took it pretty well right?

The future of the Bourbons of Naples once again seemed bleak, and this time Maria Carolina resorted to directly appealing to Napoleon. This was the beginning of a very passive-agressive epistolary relationship, both of them trying to be civil but still borderline insulting each other. I honestly find this funny, because you have Maria Carolina swearing to Napoleon that she had nothing against him or France and then she would write this to one of her ministers: “You will never imagine the rage and despair which the extremely insolent screed of the scoundrelly but too lucky Corsican has caused me.”

Despite the passive-agressiveness, when Napoleon was looking for a princess bride for his stepson Eugène he actually considered one of Maria Carolina’s daughters, Maria Amelia, as a possible candidate. But when the Minister of Foreign Affairs Gallo told Maria Carolina of Napoleon’s inquiries about her daughter she was so utterly horrified at the idea of marrying into the Corsican’s family that the project was immediately dropped (eventually Maria Amelia would go on to marry the Duke of Orléans, later King Louis Philippe I, and became the last queen of the French).

After Austerlitz Napoleon pretty much had all of Europe eating from his hand, and the Neapolitan sovereigns felt abandoned by every other power. Maria Carolina tried one last futil attempt to plead to Napoleon, but he had already decided to take Naples. The King was the first to Sicily flee this time, the Queen stayed behind and tried to organize a resistance, but eventually she realized there was nothing they could and also fled with her daughters. Before sailing she wrote to her daughter Empress Maria Theresa of Austria: “I fear we shall never see Naples again”. She was right.

The royal couple spent their second exile the same way they spent their first: Ferdinando living his best life enjoying the freedom he had in Sicily and Maria Carolina being utterly miserable. Her health worsened and she often was in pain, but recovering Naples from the Bonapartes became her obsession. She was the leading force behind every attempt to get the kingdom back, but soon she started to crash with their only allies left, the British. They wanted to keep the Bourbons in Sicily, getting back Naples was not a priority for them.

So remember Maria Carolina’s her reaction when Napoleon suggested to marry her daughter to Eugène? Well she didn’t took her granddaughter’s marriage to Napoleon himself any better: “Only this calamity was held in reserve. To become the Devil’s grandmother”.

But at the end, the final boss in Maria Carolina’s life wasn’t Napoleon, but the British. The Queen was too meddlesome and hindered their plans, and made a personal enemy of the British representative Lord Bentinck. Maria Carolina was accused of conspiring and being a threat to Sicily, and eventually the King was forced by the British to send her away. Exiled in exile, having nowhere else to go, she returned to Vienna in an eight-months-journey. While her son-in-law had no desire to receive her, he couldn’t turned her away either. She got in a better mood once she was once back at her childhood home, spending time with her Austrian grandchildren. It was there that she heard of the French defeats and Napoleon’s abdication.

Even though Maria Carolina made her hatred of Napoleon her personality for fifteen years she felt sympathetic towards him after he was defeated, reproached Marie Louise for not going to Elba with her husband, and told her that if she wasn’t allowed to reunite with him she should tie her bed-sheets to her window and escape, because marriage was for life. She also showed a lot of interest in her great-grandson, little Napoleon II, whom she called “mon petit monsieur”; in a letter to Marie Louise she described him as “very charming, quiet and well behaved” and told her that “may God give you in him every consolation a mother can receive.”

Maria Carolina was not to see the Bourbons restored in Naples. She died of a stroke in September 8, 1814, aged sixty-two-years old. At the time of her death Murat was still King of Naples, and the allies were happy to leave Ferdinando in Sicily. She was buried in the Capuchin Crypt, her death being only a small incident in the Congress of Vienna’s dance.

Overall, I personally find Maria Carolina the most fascinating because of everything she represented: she was a healthy daughter of the ancien régime that saw how the world as she knew it crumbled down and changed forever, to the point that by the time of her death she, the last surviving child of Maria Theresia, was a living relique (and she wasn’t even that old - a testament of how fast everything had changed). And she didn't got there sitting by idly: she fought against this new world every step of the way, made it out alive, but lost the battle still. And I don't know about you, but to me this is just a more interesting story to tell than Unoriginal Marie Antoinette Adaptation Number 7383.

Sources:

Acton, Harold (1998). The Bourbons of Naples (1734-1825)

Castelot, André (1974). King of Rome; a biography of Napoleon's tragic son

Stollberg-Rilinger, Barbara (2020). Maria Theresa: The Habsburg Empress in her Time

#sorry if this answer is too long and messy - i been putting it together little by little for the past month #but this is only the top of the iceberg i left out so many things #queen maria carolina of naples #ferdinando i of the two sicilies #house of habsburg #house of bourbon-two sicilies #napoleon i #cw suicide mention #asks

[kerrikins]

I'm just going to go ahead and let myself be emotional for a moment about Bible's current situation. Yes, I'm going to mention Build Jakapan so feel free to scroll past or ignore this post.

Context: The above screenshot is of Build's reply to a video showing Bible being a bit awkward at an event without Build back in August. And seeing this again is just making me grieve what Bible is going through and what he has just lost.

Yes, I'm aware that Bible is a grown adult. You know what I'm also aware of? That he himself has referred to Build as his 'safe space' and his comfort level around Build has been visible. He relaxes around Build and the two of them had a natural chemistry together. There are interactions on camera of Build pulling Bible's focus back to what they are doing or reassuring him, etc. These are simple facts about their relationship with one another.

Now that is gone and I can only imagine the impact that it is going to have on Bible not just for his career but also on a personal level. Regardless of his personal feelings about the situation, which I will say we do not know, the fact is that he's now facing moving forward without his acting partner and also largely without someone who he obviously considers or considered a very dear friend. Previously at most events he would always be paired with someone to play off of, who knew him well. And yes, again: I *know* he is an adult, but being an adult doesn't mean that it can't be hard to do that on your own. I hope that his exposure over the last six months will set him up well and that maybe they'll send others with him sometimes.

Not only that, but now as a newcomer to the industry he has to go forward without an established pairing going into his next project, likely with a lot of uncertainty about who he will be paired with, whether they will have chemistry, how it will be received, etc.

And all this while being aware of what Build is going through because I can assure you that regardless of Build's guilt or innocence, this whole situation is HURTING those who love him, people who have done *nothing wrong*. It's why I have little to no patience for the glee that I have seen from some people because this is not the time or place. There are humans hurting due to all of this. I can support the idea of justice but also be concerned for those around Build who are innocent in this situation.

I am just so incredibly sad for him and I really hope that his friends and family are able to offer him support right now. The D7 event and the World Tour are going to be extremely hard for some members of the cast, I think.

So, yeah. That's what's on my mind. I'm going to do my best to pull myself out of my feels but I really hope Bible, Tong and Us in particular are surrounded by love right now.

#build jakapan #kinnporsche: the series #bible wichapas #kp cast

[anaquariusfox]

No shade towards this user! But I would actually love to address this statement or thought process.

(And its actually £37 for you!)

But nonetheless, there are many things to consider when you’re criticizing an artist for the price of their works and here are a few!

How much time goes into the process of a piece(s)!

For example, I made not only one zine, but two in the span of 7 months. While working a 40+ hour a week active job. So all my free time was consumed with this zine. You may think $43 is a lot for a zine, but I am just one person make a whole NSFW zine. I wasn’t one of 20+ artists and fic writers putting one piece into a whole zine. And I won’t undervalue myself and my time! Also, most of my commissions, for one custom piece, cost more than not only my nsfw zine, but both my zines combined.

How much time goes into the technically side of the piece(s) (I.e. creating the actual zine with printing companies and sizing and resizing, and shipping and handling artists usually handle themselves)

For myself, it was hours and hours of file converting and resizing and in the end it still didn’t look good in zine previews, that’s why I decided to go digital.

The exclusivity of the artwork(s)

You’ll find a lot of things of this nature are either limited time products or exclusive to the product itself! For example, all my pieces in my NSFW zine, are for the zine supporters only, as well as my SFW being half favorite pieces and half new, zine exclusive pieces!

The content of said artwork(s)

My zine for example, is a “taboo” type of artwork, it’s basically a book full of porn. Not a lot of artist draw porn and even less nsfw artist, share it on social media! But here I am, sharing a whole exclusive zine of porn for two lovable characters! Oh, and as trans characters haha. They’re t4t in my zine because I draw the representation I want through my favorite characters!

* And in the end really! *

You’ve got to understand, as artists, we are putting out so much free content on social media. Whether it’s every day, every other day, once a week or once a month. You, as a consumer of our work, get free content (both old and new), all for free! Is that not wild?! For example, people pay $10 a month to see all the porn I’ve ever drawn on Patreon on then get to see the latest porn and sfw stuff I post! Ive been told by so many friends that I should charge more even! But that’s not the point of this post.

Artists could never share again, or put their craft and skills behind a massive paywall, but we love sharing and putting art into the world, cause fuck, a world without art would kill me. I literally love scrolling through my social media and seeing all my mutuals and artists I follow share their work and interests through art. I love seeing their minds work and what they felt so proud of to share it with the world.

And on top of that, if you think something is a bit too high in price, just remember all the free content the artist puts out, remember what art piece you love the most from them and why you followed them in the first place maybe! And by purchasing an item(s) from them, is a way of showing them support for all the joy their art has brought you 🫶😊 and just supporting artists in general vs large corporations who usually underpay their artists or just straight up steal art.

**In the end, I won’t undervalue my time and skill for a quick sale cause I’ve had people happily support me at the prices they are and I’m so grateful te for them.**

*** No artist should undervalue their work! We have a skill and took time to create this skill and study our skill to become better and better 🫶***

I do hope that anyone with the same mind set as this user, might have a new POV on the artists side/ BTS side of an artist and content creator when judging their prices.

#artists #art #text #I was just having this conversation with my mutual! who #when I was going to support the whole set of plushies and keychains #but couldn’t it was like $200 usd #so I asked if I could do the 2 plushies and 2 keychains instead #and he said he wished he could lower the prices but just couldn’t #and I said nah man don’t worry about it! making these cute fucking plushies and charms isn’t cheap! #and I’m happy to support you and get cute lil items in return! #and told him this conversation above and he felt so much better after that #I’m like dude??? you’re putting out so much free content on top of super cute merch like a mf machine! #you price it what it’s worth! don’t undervalue yourself! #and there are even artists out there I just love but couldn’t support their items and merch cause it was just too much! I understand that #but I’d never go to their profile and say wow? $70 for a plushie? :/ / #cause I understand the work and time that goes into making it and producing a product!

[goblinpocketsfriend]

Hazbin Hotel: Even Bigger Than You Think

I remember watching the Hazbin Hotel pilot just a few hours after it was posted. Blew my mind a bit, to see that high quality of an animation released for free on YouTube. You've heard it all before-the characters design both physical and personality-wise, the world and themes it's set in, everything about Hazbin Hotel was awesome. We bought the merch (I personally bought myself and my fiancee Alastor [Alastair? Alaster?] shirts) and anxiously awaited the official first episode.

We all know how it went-3 years of merch drops. Personally I started to lose hope-did I really misread Vivienne Medrano, thinking she was a true artist dedicated to telling the story itching at her skull, when in reality she was another money-grabbing one hit wonder? Helluva Boss is incredible, and it satiated the craving for more Hazbin, but eventually in my mind the shows reversed-from Helluva Boss being a tiny spin-off of Hazbin, to the other way around. Hazbin is an insignificant part of the greater Helluva Boss world.

When I saw that Amazon Prime had picked up Hazbin Hotel, it was like the last piece of a puzzle found under a couch cushion finally finishing the landscape that's been collecting dust on the table for three months. It finally made sense, and I think a large part of that has to do with the recent actors' and writers' strikes. The obvious aside, we are finally going to see the continuation of a project years in the making, with a dedicated team to produce it and an ecstatic audience to consume it. However, Hazbin Hotel is a lot more than a YouTube pilot launching a full show.

There is a strong disconnect in many minds between Youtube and streaming services. There is an expectation of quality, being that a show on Netflix is expected to be a much higher quality production than a show on YouTube, and an expectation of viewership, as streaming services are much more adept at advertising their shows than YouTubers. Hazbin Hotel shattered both of these expectations, with the pilot's viewership surpassing many multi-million dollar shows.

The team has set a precedent for the future-streaming services are a lot less likely to write off a small team's animated pilot when they consider Hazbin Hotel's success. They dug their heels into the ground for three (probably more) long years against judgement and hatred and disappointment and anger, holding firm against expectations, and their heels have carved a channel through the dirt straight to success. The next small team of animators with a story bursting from their hearts screaming to be told have a path to follow thanks to those persistent heels.

I, for one, can't wait to see that thin line in the dirt become a travelled highway.

Thanks for listening,

goblinpocket

#goblinpocket #helluva boss #hazbin hotel

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter thirty six

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

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november 5, 2018 san diego, california orion

Spending my 22nd birthday going to visit my new oncologist was not my plan. I hadn’t made much effort to make it happen, but I was hoping to just have a night out in LA with Emelia, her roommates, and some of my classmates. I already had a reservation set up at my favorite rooftop bar for ten people. 

I knew Cal had a show — Amsterdam — so I didn’t expect to get to spend it with him. I figured he’d call me after he got offstage while I was out with my friends and I’d answer, tipsy from a few too many espresso martinis, and it would be sweet and everyone with me would think it was so cute that he was so busy but still so present in our relationship.

Clearly, nothing like that is happening today. The only thing that’s the same is Emelia. She’s coming over tonight. I think my moms are getting us all Thai food and we’ll watch a movie or play a game, and I think we’ll have a bonfire, but the night is looking very differently than what I’d planned months ago. Today is the day I find out how chemo went and whether or not I get to live a little longer.

While Mama drives to the hospital, she and Mom are talking about something I stopped paying attention to a long time ago. I’m grateful both of them are coming with me to learn about my fate. My mind is just spinning and I can’t even pin down a single thought, so I find myself distracting my brain by doomscrolling on social media and reading happy birthday texts. 

From: kaykay (5sos groupies) happy birthday orion! miss ya and love ya! From: crystal (5sos groupies) baby o!!!! we miss you so so much! we’ll all be home soon and want to see your sweet face if you’ll have us. happy birthday ❤️ From: sierra (5sos groupies) sweet orion!! missing you more than ever! happiest of birthdays to the prettiest of girls ❤️

Macy tagged me in an Instagram story of a collage of pictures we have together—random chemo selfies, the night we celebrated her being cancer free, and the tour sendoff party that happened what feels like a lifetime ago. “MOST BEAUTIFUL BIRTHDAY GIRL EVER! LOVE YOU LONG TIME TY FOR BEING THE BEST” she wrote on top of the photo.

Emelia posted a carousel of our pictures from the past three years, including a very cringey one of us on the first day of class freshman year. We’d somehow shown up to class wearing nearly identical outfits and we decided we were destined to be friends, which was a correct assessment. The most recent one was last week at the beach, when we had a sunset picnic. “Strongest, bravest, kindest, most passionate (and stubborn) girl on the planet. Happy birthday to my soul sister. There’s no one who loves like you and I love having your love in my life. 22 is no match for you! ‘Til death, my friend.” 

Ashton has a photo of us getting gelato in Rome two years ago. I think Giuseppe took the picture, but the memory is blurry. All I remember is how divine my pistachio gelato tasted and how jealous Ash was of how much better mine was than his. In the picture, I’m happily taking a lick from mine while Ashton pouts at me, holding his cup of banana gelato that he’d hardly touched. His caption is short and sweet. “Happy birthday to the best girl I know (sorry @kaykay).”

I don’t follow him anymore, but I pull up Cal’s profile to see if he’s posted any stories or anything else today. When his profile picture indicates that he has posted a story I haven’t viewed, out of habit, I check it. Even if he checks who’s viewed it, I’ll only be one of literal thousands, so I doubt he’ll be able to see me as a viewer. He posted a picture of himself on stage last night, and today, he just took a screenshot of listening to 22 by Taylor Swift on Spotify. 

He’s saying happy birthday, even if he isn’t. 

From: paula (lavapies forever) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAV ESTADOUNIDENSE!!! love you miss you!!!  From: giuseppe (lavapies forever) oh!! happy birthday orion!!! how did I end up in this group chat….. ? From: marta (lavapies forever) feliz cumple, orion!! te echo de menos!!!  From: ilse (lavapies forever) HAPPY BDAY ORION! ❤️ From: paula (lavapies forever) giu you’re one of the girlies sorry

I haven’t texted the “5SOS groupies” back yet, and am uncertain of whether or not I will, but I do text back my former flatmates (and Giuseppe). 

To: lavapies forever muchisimas gracias!!!! miss you all!!! also, have some news for you guys From: ilse (lavapies forever) FINALLY From: paula (lavapies forever) when were you gonna tell us you guys broke up!!!!!! what happened?!?!?!? From: marta (lavapies forever) seriously! how could you not tell us?! but yes what happened we are dying to know the details From: giuseppe (lavapies forever) oh yeah fran asked if i knew anything but obviously i do not  To: lavapies forever so… its not so much that i need to tell you about the breakup? i don’t know how else to say it than to just say it so i’m just gonna say it i have leukemia so cal and i broke up i’m actually on my way to the doctor rn to see how my chemotherapy treatments went

When the group chat activity halts, I know they’re now all confused and in shock. My friends aren’t exactly known for not having something to say. I leave the WhatsApp app to give them time to process and go to my regular messages to see who else has reached out.

From: lucas Hey, O. Just popping in to say happy birthday! Sent you a Venmo—have a martini on me. Hope you’re doing okay!

Every other notification is just miscellaneous family members and a few classmates who are just as out of the loop as the general public is on what’s happening in my life. I guess I should probably share something on my social media about what’s going on. I don’t want the fans to know, but I can tell my classmates and people I actually know. I decide I’ll post something later today, once I’ve heard whatever news that the oncologist is about to share with me. 

Right when I’m locking my phone, it starts buzzing with an incoming Facetime from Paula. I tell my moms I’ll be on a call before I answer.

“Hey,” I say as her face fills my screen.

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” is how Paula starts the call. 

I frown. “It’s kinda hard to say over text. I’m sorry.”

“So call! Orion, what the hell! This is huge and I don’t know why you wouldn’t think we’d want to know!” 

I contemplate what to say next. I should be an expert at this after having to break the news Calum. “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t tell Cal until last month.” 

Paula’s mouth drops and I can tell she’s about to dwell on this instead of the actual news. “So he broke up with you?!” 

“What? No!” I sigh. “No, I broke up with him.” 

Her face contorts with confusion and she shakes her head, the idea rattling around in her brain. “You broke up with him?! Because you have cancer?!”

“Please don’t make me talk about this, Pau, it’s all anyone wants to talk about and I’m tired of it.” 

“No! We are going to talk about this! You guys are perfect together and you broke up with him in the middle of a life threatening diagnosis? What the fuck, Orion?” 

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” I beg. “It’s my birthday. I promise I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll let you know how things went today.”

She groans. “Fine, but only because it’s your birthday!” 

“Orion,” Mama says, catching my attention. “We’re here.”

I nod and look back to my phone. “¿Hablaremos mañana?”

Pau nods. “Mañana.”

Paula and I hang up then, and I tuck my phone into the pocket on my black sweatpants. We get out of the car and walk to the door of the cancer center, checking in at the desk and going to the waiting room. I feel like I’ve done all of this a million times now, but I haven’t felt this nervous about it in a long time. 

They call my name to come back, and we trudge slowly after the nurse and we sit in a sterile exam room that looks just like every other sterile exam room in the world. While we wait for the doctor to come in, my moms and I sit in silence. I don’t think anyone wants to say anything. I know I don’t.

Five minutes of waiting later and then there’s a knock on the door. My new doctor, Dr. Gupta, walks in with his clipboard and the nurse in tow. He takes a seat on the wheeled stool and moves it closer to me so that we’re only about a foot or two apart. 

“Good morning,” he says. “And, happy birthday.”

I give him a tense smile. “Thanks.” 

I had to come in last week for another biopsy and a full blood panel again to be able to assess the status of my cancer, so today is literally just to talk about the results. They also have me a full body exam to check my lymphnodes and other symptoms. Given the look on Dr. Gupta’s face from the moment he walked in, whatever he’s going to say isn’t good.

“Orion, there isn’t an easy way to say this, so I’m sorry,” he says, off to a horrible start. “The chemo hasn’t made much of a dent in the leukemia, and I’m afraid it’s progressing.” 

I look over at my moms who are clenching their jaws and squeezing each other’s hands. I’ll cry if I watch, so I look back to Dr. Gupta. 

“You have options, though. We can continue to try to find you a bone marrow donor, and there are a number of trials that are available, we’d just need to transfer you back to LA.” 

I shake my head. “I can’t go back to LA.” 

“Honey, you can go back—-“

I cut Mom off. “I’m not doing trials. I can’t. I’m sorry, but I’m not doing something else that will make me feel miserable and we don’t even know if it’s going to work. Besides, I’ll get what, maybe a year or two out of it if they do work?”

I look at Dr. Gupta to confirm, and he pulls his mouth into a slight frown. 

“There’s no guarantee on timelines or results, but, roughly, given your case, that’s what we’d be looking at.” 

“Right, and I’ll get like… a year, a few months if we just stop doing things?” 

Dr. Gupta sighs. “Again, we can’t say for certain, but roughly, yes, about a year.” 

“Yeah, I’m not doing anything. Can I go now?” I stand up, grabbing my bag. 

“Orion, at least hear about what options—“

I spin around, quickly, to face my moms. “I’m not doing anything.”

They look at me with tears in their eyes, begging me to stay and listen, but I don’t want to. 

“I want to go home. I want to live comfortably and just have time with people I care about. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to die anyway. It doesn’t even matter, and I’m not going to LA again.” 

We have a silent argument with just our eyes before they look to Dr. Gupta.

“Can we have the pamphlets on the trials? We can discuss this at home and let you know.”

Dr. Gupta quickly hands them the stack of brochures he’s had on top of his clipboard. “You don’t have to decide anything today, and please call me if you have any questions.” 

I walk out of the room then. I don’t want to dwell in there and I don’t want to dwell on what I’ve just learned. I can’t think about it. Not today. Maybe tomorrow. I just can’t spend my birthday thinking about it all. Today I’m supposed to celebrate my life, not the impending date of my death. 

—

We’re having a bonfire in the backyard with my family, Emelia, and Macy — complete with gelatin-free marshmallows and a crock pot full of mulled wine — when my phone starts going crazy. I try to ignore it and just enjoy the night with Emelia and Macy, who are listening to and respecting my wishes not to talk about the news of the day. I promise them we’ll talk about it tomorrow. 

My phone has probably buzzed twelve times in the past two minutes, and Emelia ends up taking my phone off the arm of the wooden chair I’m sitting in to look at it, apparently annoyed by all the notifications. She unlocks my phone for herself and her eyes grow wider as she looks at whatever notifications I’ve gotten.

“Jesus,” she whispers, scrolling through whatever it is. 

“What is it?” Macy asks before she takes another sip of her hot wine. 

“Um…” Em says, trailing off, still staring at my phone’s screen.

I hold my hand out for her to give me my phone back, and she pulls it further away from me, her eyes still glued to the bright screen. I can see it’s a text thread with a lot of texts from the other person.

“Give me my phone,” I instruct, holding my hand closer to her.

“It’s not good, are you sure?” 

I roll my eyes. “Em, there’s nothing worse than hearing that your chemotherapy didn’t help your terminal cancer on your birthday. I can handle whatever the hell someone texted me.” 

She sighs and hands my phone to me. “I warned you.” 

I take in what’s on my screen and feel my stomach start to churn. She’s right. It’s not good.

From: mike-o cliff-o yknow what orion, fuck you i don’t give a fuck that it’s your birthday FUCJ YOU my band, my BEST FRIENDS, aren’t speaking because you couldn’t tell the truth thos is your fault calum won’t even LOOK at ash! howrdare you you had no right to come into our lives and fuck up the one thing that matters most to all of us and then just LEAVEW do you know how depressed cxalum is he doesn’t do anything except show up on stage and drink and whineand moanmb he’s a fucking qwreck and that’s on yuo you play this innocnt sweet act that you’re jsut being kind and whatever bllshit you tell yourself but you and i both know you’re actually a shitty person what kind of person doesn’t tell their partner they have CACNDR and then BROAKS UP WITH THEM over it fuck you. i hope it’s terminal. and i hpoe it sucks.

My eyes start to water as I read through everything, but I try to remember that Michael is clearly very drunk. 

“No, he doesn’t get to make you cry on your birthday. Give me that, I’m texting a screenshot of that shit to Crystal.” Emelia holds her hand out for my phone again, but I hug it to my chest. 

“No, it’s fine. He doesn’t mean it, and he deserves to be mad.” 

“What? Who texted you?” Macy asks from my other side. I sigh and hand my phone to her so she can read it all. 

“It’s fine, he’s drunk. If that made him feel better to say that, it’s fine.” 

Emelia is fuming next to me and watching as Macy’s face gets more and more concerned while she reads what Mike sent. I don’t want to let them sway me. I don’t care what he sent. 

“Holy shit, O, that’s not okay,” Macy says while she hands me my phone. 

“It’s fine, I don’t care.”

But I do.

read next chapter

#5sos #luke hemmings #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #calum hood #fanfiction #5sosfam #imagine #fanfic #michael clifford #calum 5sos #calum fanfic #calum fic #calum x ofc #calum x fem!oc #better left unsaid

[poohsticksbridge]

In the midst of a largely enjoyable season of Amazon Prime’s/Sony Pictures’ adaptation of The Wheel of Time series, delivered by an outstanding cast and crew all deserving of acclaim (and renewal for future seasons), I see a lot of people responding with annoyance or dismissal of viewers’ issues (‘nitpicks’/‘complaints’) with certain season 2 character arcs.

Permit me to explain where one dense & annoying complainer (i.e., yours truly) is coming from. Because Nynaeve’s S2 show arc is potentially triggering for anyone who has lived experience with pregnancy or child loss.

Despite putting this assertion out there, I have seen — and been directly subject — to a range of responses that range from patronizing to downright heartless. These include:

How can anyone (read: these idiots) NOT see the character development that’s being set up?

People who criticize don’t understand/lack empathy for trauma survivors.

Critics who are (over)reacting need to shut up and deal with their own unresolved trauma.

And the evergreen refrain: they’re just fictional characters. Get a life. 🙄

As someone who has lost multiple pregnancies, and supported loved ones through child loss, excuse me when I say: hold my mother’s milk in a fucking cup.

Nynaeve’s arc this season was especially difficult to watch and process because she was the only character who went through it without genuine support or a single onscreen ray of hope for resolution/closure. The fact this will probably come 18-24 months from now, does not ease the immediate pain.

Let me offer a hypothetical comparator: picture the reaction from Egwene stans & the fandom as a whole, if the season had ended on episode 5. I can only imagine how that might have gone down.

As hard as I found Nynaeve’s arc, I was inclined to process it privately — until these kinds of comments started to show up in other’s posts and threads. Because I find the toxic positivity, fanlier-than-thouism and callous dismissal of others’ feelings even more triggering than Nynaeve’s arc.

Why? That’s the question I’ve been asking myself, because I too generally find fandom drama tiring. Here’s what I realized:

Such responses are trivializing and isolating. Very much the way grieving parents (or almost parents) feel after their loss, because so few people are able to relate. (Despite the growing exploration/exploitation of pregnancy and child loss in ‘entertainment,’ there’s still a very real societal taboo when it comes to talking about RL experiences.)

If you find my criticism, posts and replies to comments about Nynaeve’s arc tiresome, offensive or otherwise upsetting, feel free to ignore/delete/block/move along. Or, by all means, respond thoughtfully. But don’t tell me I don’t see/understand what the writers are doing (I’m not an idiot). Don’t tell me I don’t understand/lack empathy for trauma survivors. Don’t tell me to cool down/get over it/get (more) therapy. Don’t tell me I need to get a life. (My rainbow kid keeps me plenty busy, thanks.) And don’t expect me to shut up about my criticisms of a cherished character’s unrelenting suffering, and how it has been portrayed as robbing her of her signature competence and common sense.

If you’re still reading, thank you very much for enduring my rant. May those with differing perspectives enjoy their S3 longing, while I busy myself with fix-it fanfics and gratuitous Laneave smut.

#PSB is on her high horse #flogging it into glue #yes even when people are suffering in real life #it’s okay to want to escape life’s hardships for a while #I’m just here to mash my favourite characters together #wheel of time #wot #nynaeve al'meara #lan mandragoran #lanaeve

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Constructive feedback

I'm a compulsive feed-backer. At least, I think that's the right word. It feels like the verb might be in the wrong place - one who backs feeds, perhaps, like a supporter of TV channels - but I'm not sure of the alternative. Back-feeder? Or does that make me sound like one of those oxpeckers - you know, the birds that ride around on kudu or wildebeest - or something else entirely? You can let me know, if you like. I certainly would.

I mean that I give feedback. Any chance I get, really - and you'd be surprised how many there are. The pop-up that you'd usually swipe away; the installation screens you scramble through. Am I willing to spare two minutes for a quick survey? You bet. Rate us in the app store? Don't mind if I do.

Sometimes they don't even ask for it. There's just a company email address on the leaflet, a pause in the spiel, and suddenly I'm giving more feedback than a microphone within an inch of its own speaker. I write letters to global corporations; I phone back their call centres; I scribble on marketing flyers and return them to sender. A compulsion, as I said. It's a problem, except that I'm not sure that it is.

I like to feel that, in my own small way, I'm improving the world. Most people don't have the patience for all of that work, and so it's down to the likes of me, the back-feeders, to spot the errors; to suggest the improvements; to do the silent work that makes everything we use a little bit better. I identify bugs, and I swat them away before they have the chance to land on your salad. You're welcome.

By and large, I find myself ignored, and that's okay. I'll occasionally feed that back in turn, for important stuff - when the council take too long to acknowledge my letters about potholes, for instance - but otherwise I'm happy to work in the shadows, offering up my free advice without the hope of recognition or reward.

They don't all have to heed my words. I know that I can be pernickety, a pedant, a perfectionist. Not all of my suggested improvements can be prioritised, and I appreciate that resources might be better spent elsewhere. I just give them the information, and leave the best course of action for them to decide.

That is, I used to. Until the start of this month, when I left a restaurant a two star review, and walked past later to find it had closed down. I felt guilty, wondering if I was responsible, although I hadn't thought my words too harsh; perhaps the proprietor had thinner skin than that which lay across the surface of his soup, I thought.

But then I called the local pet store's attention to the uneven drawing of its parking bays, and they vanished too: not even the shop, just the car park. I tried it with a park I visited, which needed more benches in the shade, and suddenly there weren't any benches, or even any shade. It felt like a petulant response, co-ordinated across the various powers that be, sick and tired of my complaining. It was like I was provoking them, or they were trying to provoke me.

I tried to cut back, of course, but you can't just quit the habit of a lifetime. I decided to redirect my energies elsewhere, starting a blog to vent my thoughts about life more generally, rather than risk upsetting any more people: I moaned about the way it always seemed to rain on the weekend, or how quickly my knees and back had gone with age, and suggested flaws in natural systems, like the strange way that animals and plants with warning colours now looked more attractive to humans, particularly young children.

One day I received a parcel in the post. I hadn't been expecting anything, and my immediate thought was that the postal service had delivered to the wrong address, despite my previous corrections, but it was my name on the label. Inside the box, I found another note addressed to me, atop a set of neatly folded golden robes.

"Go on, then," it read, in a language I shouldn't have been able to read, and therefore couldn't check for typos. "Let's see you do any better."

#writing #short story #writeblr #creative writing #original fiction

[aelaer]

I love writing; I want to write I'm not able to. Whenever I open a document, ready to write, it's like my fingers get stuck, hovering over the keyboard. It is frustrating and upsetting and doesn't help my non-existing confidence and self-worth.

I know people say it helps when you talk with friends about your writing but I only have one friend and I've annoyed them enough with my writing problems (since we longer share the same fandoms). And I'm scared of people and self-isolate myself from them because my past fandom experiences weren't the best.

Aww love *big hugs* 🫂 Thank you for your trust in sharing this personal information with me. I presume that you shared it with me on the hope that I would give some thoughts and ideas on these troubles. I will do my best to give you an answer that will hopefully be of some use to you. If you just needed to let it off your chest and do not wish for thoughts and non-professional advice, please don't read beyond this paragraph. And if that's the case I just wish the best for you and hope things get better!

But if you're still reading this second paragraph, here's some of my own musings on what you've divulged. (Note - I'm not a professional health person, this stuff is from memory of things I've read and my memory may be spotty.)

The funny thing about hobbies is that they're meant to enrich your life, but oftentimes you can only easily partake in them if you're already in a good place. If you're stressed about work, school, family or friends, it gets hard to focus on things you enjoy. If your health is in the toilet, it's sometimes hard to do hobbies as well. This includes mental health.

It's a bit of a terrible cycle. You want to create, but you are too down to create, which makes you feel even more down than you were before. This is terribly common and it's such a difficult cycle to break.

How exactly do you solve it? I don't think there's an easy solution, or a solution that fits everyone. But I have the following on "things" to try split into different parts, if you want to give any of these a shot. They touch on each of the items you mentioned in your post:

Getting In The Mood To Write

Set up a sprint. Don't know what sprinting is? Here's an article about sprints. Don't have a Discord writing server where sprints are set up? Here's a free sprint site.

Is the story you *want* to write not easily coming to mind? Why not start on some writing prompts. This link has prompts that would be about 1-3 paragraphs to complete per prompt. Need more flexibility? These prompts could be answered in a couple sentences, a paragraph, or a page. None of these may be the story you've been trying to write, but they're a good way to get your muscle memory in your fingers and word-forming in your head to get started again. You can do as little or as many as you like. They can be fiction or non-fiction. You can even answer the prompts as your favorite fictional character if you'd like to for the personal writing ones.

How calm are your surroundings and your mind? This article goes into some tips about setting the mood and getting your mind prepared for the space. It also goes into the importance of the mind being in the right space for it, which goes into my next section.

Caring For Yourself

I really like the article I linked in point three because it emphasizes, in very large text, "Be kind to yourself and let it flow". This is one of the most difficult things to learn because if you've spent a long time beating yourself up for not doing the thing, not being good enough, and other self-negative terminology, that'll be deep within your psyche. Unlearning all of these negative feelings about yourself is not done in a day, or a week, or possibly not even a month or year.

One method of combating these negative feelings is by saying (out loud or on paper) positive things about yourself: that you *are* enough, that you are talented/worth it/hardworking, whatever it is to combat whatever you've been telling yourself that has lowered your self-esteem. This has to become a habit, by the way--something you schedule in your day and that you stick to like clockwork. This self-affirming self-care language is supposed to eventually sink in, because if it is so often in the upper conscious, it eventually sinks to the subconscious. Or at least, that's what the science of it says.

Depending on how long this feeling continues and how many aspects of your life it affects, you may want to consider speaking with a professional about it. If that is not a viable solution, doing some research on what you can do to help yourself could help. Just stick with reputable sites--the .edu's and the like.

One blog I really like following is @insanitysilver because of their constant positivity around writing both original and fan fiction. There's a lot of reaffirming content about being kind to yourself on bad writing days, to your WIPs, and just being a writer (and reader!) in general. This may help give you a pick-me-up in your browsing of tumblr.

Getting Into The Fandom Community

I 100% get not wanting to get into fandom again because you've had bad experiences in the past. Oh my *goodness*, I can't count all the terrible experiences I've had in online fandom spaces and online RP spaces in the 20 years I've been active online and all the hurt that came with it. Heck, I'm friends with a mutual who is also interacting with the person who told me they were disgusted that I had given kudos on their fic and said some absolutely *nasty* things to me, and we're both still active in the same fandom.

Unfortunately it comes with human interaction. If you hide from it forever, you may miss out on some absolutely amazing experiences and beautiful friendships.

Toxic people are everywhere, unfortunately, but you learn to recognize them and, in the online space, block them. And those toxic people (like the one I mentioned above) have to live with their nastiness and you start to feel sorry for them, because how sad must that person be to go out of their way to put others down in such a horrid manner?

If it's a matter of miscommunications and misunderstanding, that gets easier to deal with with experience and time. Experience is a big part of it. Have I committed some big social mistakes and major faux pas in my past? Yes, absolutely, including in the fandom I'm still active in. I have major foot-in-mouth disease, and I feel pretty bad about those! When I can, I try to repair relationships. When I can't, I've learned to apologize where I can when I'm at fault and move on. You don't need to be friends with everyone in the fandom to have a good time.

To start getting involved: joining a fandom Discord would be my recommendation. You can usually find one via Google. Some are super large, so you may want to try and find smaller shipping ones, or character-based ones as opposed to a huge community. The cool thing about this is that you can lurk for a time to see how the community interacts before stepping in, which is a nice part about Discord.

Another way to connect with folks is via tumblr. Look up the fandom tags here and start following folks who post a lot about your favorite things! First you can start with reblogs, then reblogs with tags, and then comments and asks. Baby steps at your own pace.

I definitely recommend connecting with several people if at all possible because you'll have several people to talk about fandom stuff with, and writing with, and if you have a falling out with one of them, it won't feel like you're completely out of the loop. I'd also recommend that you connect with folks who aren't all mutuals -- spread it out. In one of my largest fandom schisms several years ago, a whole RP group kicked me out because the leader was an ableist asshole. But I had several other RP partners to fall back on and to help me through the tough time. It's similar in the fandom space--you want to be friendly with several folks. That's one reason Discord is so great-- you can be in several Discord groups with a variety of people and be acquaintances, friends, and good friends with several folks. If for some reason one of the Discord groups is actually a poisonous hellhole and they're awful to you, you can back out and fall back to the other group without feeling like you've completely disconnected from everyone in fandom. There's a space for everyone.

If your fandom is my corner of the MCU, I'd recommend both the Stephen Strange Discord and IronStrange Discord. They're wholesome groups and you can comfortably lurk there until you're ready to talk about the fun stuff. If you don't have those links, just send me a follow-up ask for which one you'd like and I'll post a 7-day link.

This was pretty darn long, but I hope I could be of some assistance, if assistance was what you were looking for. Best wishes, anon--things do get better.

#long post #ask #answered #self care #anonymous #writing #remember to be kind to yourself first and foremost #fandom