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neil-gaiman · 10 days

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Hi Neil.

I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.

First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.

So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…

Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)

Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.

Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.

(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)

I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.

But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.

I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.

But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.

I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.

It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.

I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.

My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”

But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.

In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.

Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”

As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.

I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…

The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.

So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.

People always say “it’s never too late.”

One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”

I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”

It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.

Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”

But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.

Whew.

So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.

And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.

Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.

Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)

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thewriteblrlibrary · 4 months

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A Step-by-Step Marketing Guide so we can spite traditional publishers (and make people cry).

~ This is a guide specific for fiction/writeblr. All of this is for free and there is little social media posting/ads involved (unless you want to venture into that). ~

Within the writeblr spheres, there's this underlying hope that our stories will find their audience. Perhaps we'll have a fandom full of fanart and video essays, or maybe we'll be an instant classic and sit on collectors' beloved bookshelves. Our stories could sit within the deepest corners of someone's heart and maybe they never tell a soul about what's so special to them. Maybe our stories become those 'underrated masterpieces'.

Or we just want to see people ugly cry over our writing.

Whatever your hope may be, marketing is an important path to venture on (especially because traditional publishers are rejecting diverse books in favor of ones that are already famous + the whole sub-par machine thing they seem obsessed with.)

And thus, my childhood marketing obsession will hopefully be of use to you. This is all for free (unless you want to spend money) and you don't need to figure out social media platforms (unless you want to, and this guide works if you decide to take that route too.)

Step One: Characters

Marketing spheres will define these fictious people as 'avatars' or 'the target audience'. You could also call them characters. Because that's what they are: fictional people.

For this step, you shall create characters that would love your story.

And here's some great news: You've already done this.

Perhaps you wrote your story to comfort a prior version of yourself. Perhaps each character in your story holds an aspect of your personality. Perhaps you were ridiculously self-indulgent and made the story you would've loved to read. These are all possible characters you can reuse for marketing.

Write down 2-4 quick archetypes for these characters. You'll chose an aspect of your story (characters, themes, or the younger-self that you wrote it for) and write a thumbnail sketch. (Main issue, fears, wants, personality traits if they relate to the main issue.)

I'll do it for my story (the Land of the Fallen Fairies) down below:

Anuli-like (my MC): Overthinking and aloof. Wants a happy ending but thinks their current personality/character isn't good enough for one. The present stales in comparison to the past/the childhood they lost. The 'gifted theater kids'. Kamari-like (side character): Postpones happiness in favor of creating a perfect schedule/getting accomplishments. Heavy masking. Creative but doesn't create anymore. Promises themself they'll enjoy themselves later, when they've earned it. Workaholics. My younger self: Wanting a fantasy escapism to embody the traits they wish they had in real life. Dissatisfied and worried about reality. Perfectionists. Self-indulgent: People who love plants and forests and fantasy worlds far away from reality/humanity.

Great! Now it's time to find these characters.

Step Two: Setting.

(Let's assume you're using the internet for your marketing. But a similar method works for real life too.)

Where do the characters live?

In order to figure that out, we need to discover the characters' interests, what they watch to solve their problems, and who they find #relatable.

(You can do this for each character or for all the characters at once.)

For example:

Anuli-like -

interests: Stories. Analysis videos. Fantasy escapism. Things that remind them of their childhood. (so nature, warmth, comfort, play, imagination and the times they would actually enjoy learning.)

Places to look: Nature quotes, ambience videos, children's shows and fairytales (comfort shows). Fandom culture - fanfic video essays, fan art.

Solving problems (the problem being wanting a 'happy ending' but feeling that their personality/lifestyle/characteristics aren't right for one): Mindfulness things. Self-healing. Quotes and meditations and candles galore. Slow living. Nature vlogs. Self care. All that 'live in the moment' culture.

Places to look: Slow living. Nature vlogs. The 'softer self-help' (spirituality stuff. Magic/ overnight answers). Witchcraft. 'aesthetic nature' places. Guided meditations.

#relatable: Burnt out gifted kids. People who think so much that their life passes them by. Storytellers and creative who create to make sense of the world. People who like dark, gory things in spite of who they want to be. People who don't like reality.

Places to look: Those 'learn better and remember everything' places. (The 'burnt-out gifted kid' recovery places.) Stop overthinking spots. Those quotes on Pinterest from poetic people who think too much /aff. Storyteller places. Dark academia. Classical music. One off quotes/ poetry.

Okie dokie. Once you have this, find channels, social media accounts, blogs, songs, books, etc. that fit with the categories you wrote down. (They should appeal to the characters) You can search up some of the terms you listed into searches and see who pops up. Bonus points if you find people that overlap with multiple sections.

I know I didn't include booktube or booktok in here. You can if you want too. But those can be a bit... 'consume these 500 books'. You also want to find other places where people who would like you story live, even if they don't follow booktube or booktok.

Congrats! Now you know where your characters live!

Step Three: the scary part

Take everyone you found on your search for the settings and write them down a list. Make sure you get an email/contact info. (they usually list them somewhere under 'for business inquires') Also feel free to watch their content and get to know what attributes these settings have.

And now... we talk to them. about our stories. You can do it. I believe in you.

This called 'pitching your product' in marketing spheres. But you can be informal about it.

I know it can be difficult to talk about your work, so here's a tone to have:

'I made this thing I like and I think you'll like it too'.

What you'll do is send an email (or dm) that goes like this (inspired by Creative Hive on youtube):

Hi [name],

[Genuine compliment]

[Quick sentence or two about your story. Include the themes and who it appeals to. If you have a logline/sentence summary, include that. But I find that the underlying themes and 'who's it's for' is more engaging.

For my story, I might say something like.

I've written a story you might enjoy, since you like [interest]. It's called the Land of the Fallen Fairies. It's a nature-themed commentary on the pursuit of happiness and fixing yourself to deserve that happiness, told by an overthinking, unreliable, houseplant narrator. It was supposed to comfort me when I got frustrated with myself and my happiness chasing, and I hope it can comfort others too.

(That's probably a bit long and I can trim it down a bit.)

You can phrase it like a gift if you want too.]

[Call to action.

'If you like it, I'd appreciate a mention on your [platform].

I know this part may be difficult to mention (imposter syndrome is not fun.) But I promise that if they do like it, they'll be happy to mention it.]

If they don't respond within... four-ish days? (A week at most). then you can include a follow up. For this you can include a template with info about your story. This way it's easy for them to talk about your story.

The template:

title

genre

blurb

Author

where to find the book

Bonus points if you have an additional, physical thing to send them.

Congrats! Now do this pitching process a few times until you've covered most of your bases. (Pitch to as many people as you can. It will get more comfortable as you do it. Play your favorite song and don't let yourself think too hard about it.)

----------

The benefits of this process are that you find people that are already interested in the themes and vibes of your story (in comparison to to ads, which get shoved in everyone's faces.). Someone your audience already trusts will talk about it, which means you don't need to do all this trial and error to find your audience and make content for them.

It's basically a bunch of people talking about something they like!

AND you diversify your audience across niches, but with an underlying theme/interests. Booktok/booktube must appeal to everyone, so it's a hit or miss for recommendations. (Unless there is someone that specifically does one genre/type of story.)

From here you can do fun little things to build up hype and make the book launch feel like this fun event. (I love it when that happens so here's my thoughts about trying to create an event with your story... although that may require another post entirely.)

preorder goals

charity goals

Arg's and puzzles

fund with side plushies and trinkets

Book blog tour

book boxes

as many memes as you can make

rewards (like bookmarks or posters or smth) that people can get for supporting

Talk about the process of creating your story. I know this one channel called 'Dead Sound' that creates 'making of' videos for his short films and they are some of the best videos on youtube.

Okay dear storyteller! Now go forth and share your story with the world!

Additional resources:

Creative Hive <-- a youtube channel that goes through the pitching process.

This video is also very good <-- Haven't watched the rest of the channel but I assume it's also good.

One of the best marketing channels on the internet (the videos are actually entertianing to watch.

Seth Goldin <-- I read his book and took the parts I liked and modified for storytelling marketing.

Dead Sound <-- propaganda to watch the short film series he has (he did the whole 2-d 3-d style wayyyy before spiderverse did... and he's one person making these. One person. It's amazing.

Glitch <--- If someone can figure out how The Amazing Digital Circus was marketed then I will pay you money. It seems to be a lot of memes and funny things.

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fernandamaya · 3 months

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Delicate Sagacity . 2024

2024 might be the year for me to do fanart more constantly.... (laughing at myself). Ruan Mei from Honkai Star Rail bc Hoyoverse's got me on a chokehold and I use genshin and hsr to escape from reality, as one does amirite. I have a sketch for Yae (genshin) ready, but will probably do some other drawings before that one. I'm liking the "portrait with scenery" vibe from my past few pieces (fanart and original), might turn it into a full on series we'll see Should I upload this as a print? Also pls commission me lol :')

#ruan mei #wassermoth #illustration #artists on tumblr #fernandamaya #female illustrators #digital art #honkai star rail #hsr fanart #hoyoverse

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poppletonink · 4 months

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The Marauders Fandom and How It Has Changed The State of Fandom Culture

The Marauders Fandom defies the natural state of fandom culture. Within the realm of the spiderweb of links, clicks and likes, fandoms have been born, have been nurtured and have been destroyed. Typically these fandoms follow a particular mould: by focusing on canon events, characters, and relationships between said characters, more art, writing and wonder is born. However, the Marauders fandom is unlike any of its predecessors or any fandoms being born today. Though its characters were once residents of the world of Harry Potter, in the eyes of the fans they are no longer bound to the confines of their original character archetypes (and their minimal development) as provided by writer J.K. Rowling. The internet has created a fandom renaissance - a rebirth of the characters who were originally solely there as ancestors and side characters to the so-called Golden Trio.

With this rebirth comes a subversion of what people think they know. James Potter (the father of Harry Potter) and his friends are no longer the distant memories of a forlorn, mistreated young boy. Through headcanons, fanfiction, edits, and fanart, and the "fanon" versions of these characters, they are given substance, personalities and backstories much richer than those that were scrawled into the pages of the Harry Potter series. From All The Young Dudes by MsKingBean89 (the most-read fanfiction on Archive Of Our Own) to Crimson Rivers by bizarrestars, formerly known as zeppazariel, these characters are given new life.

A queer utopia - perhaps that is the best way to describe and define this fandom. As it has settled into its cozy corner of the web, the fandom has become more bold and outlandish in their ideas. Debates have run riot over romantic pairings and sexual orientations projected onto any and all characters clawed into the cast that is beloved by this ever-growing group of people. Is Remus Lupin "as gay as the day is long" (as he was described in the original print of Casey McQuiston's Red White and Royal Blue) or is he a bisexual man (as unfortunately rare as they are in the literary world)? That is just one of the many questions thrown around from tongue to tongue, from text to text, in this fandom. The importance of queer representation has been established again and again in our modern world, but it has existed and prevailed within the world of the Marauders Fandom.

The pairings in this fandom range from canon, sensible and strongly backed up with evidence from the original books (like James Potter and Lily Evans), to wild, wacky and completely obscure (like James Potter and Regulus Black). However, the fandom has decided to take their own route, no longer caring what words the creator Rowling has to say about her characters. On numerous occasions, J.K. Rowling has stated that Sirius Black and Remus Lupin do not have romantic feelings for each other, and yet 'Wolfstar', as they are so-lovingly nicknamed, is one of the biggest ships in fandom history. Alongside this, after the proclamations of Rowling's transphobic views mid-2020, the fandom took a stand declaring many of the characters (especially Regulus Black) to be transgender in their eyes. Through this, the Marauders Fandom has made these characters even more relatable for those who read about them. Even more notably, they have used these characters to take a political stand - to make it clear that we must stand up for those in our society who are shoved aside and discriminated against.

Fandom culture is taking art and making it into something even more beautiful, making it something that people relate to and adore even more than they did before. While the art originally belongs to the person who creates it, once it is put out into the world it becomes open to interpretation. People project onto songs, onto books, onto art and it helps them to escape the trials and tribulations they face within their realities. After all, isn't that what entertainment is truly made as - an escape? As a result of the Marauders Fandom, we can look towards a future where fandom is no longer defined by its canon, where it becomes a group of people who love something and share creative ideas together. As a result of the Marauders Fandom, fans have the ability and the opportunity to have a sense of more artistic expression, which ultimately leads to more media and literature for us to enjoy. The Marauders Fandom is a fundamental and quintessential part of fandom history - it is a story of its own, born and bred of minuscule threads and mere sentences about interweaving characters. It shows just how we as people are powerhouses of creativity and that, as is said in Dead Poet's Society (1989): "poetry, beauty, romance, love - these are what we stay alive for".

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oscconfessions · 2 months

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TRANSFEM TISSUES PROPAGANDA ATTACK!!!

why do another nonbinary arc when you can do the transfems justice? sure, we already have lightbulb, but lightbulb happened in between seasons and it was never even canonized! wouldn’t it be great to finally make the transfems happy and give the world an actual transfem arc?

tissues is easily one of the contestants i have the most problems with. firstly— the way their sickness is made fun of when it’s genuinely a disability. let’s add more to this walking ableist stereotype and build on that! make them have niche interests— since they’d probably be bedridden a lot, maybe make them a super geeky person! make them like fandoms and spending their time drawing fanart for their favorite shows— make them have super geek freakouts when they learn someone else has heard of their favorite obscure anime!! make them an enjoyer of horror media, or make them an otaku!! make them indulge in media so that they can imagine themselves in a world where no one makes fun of them for their condition!

my next point is to make them have an arc where people realize that there’s more to them! have one of the new contestants reach out despite their illness! make them learn all about who tissues is, make them learn about tissues’ rich inner worlds that they’ve built up to escape the reality of their sickness. make them become really close with tissues and make them share their interests with them as well. make them open up to eachother— i could see this happening with cabby or clover, maybe even tea kettle! …and then have one of the older contestants refer to tissues as “the sick one”, or some other dismissive term that references only their condition. make tissues’ friend angry at that contestant for only seeing tissues for their disability, make them yell at that contestant and let them fucking rant. and make tissues be in the background, hearing all this and realizing that they… really don’t deserve to be treated like that, do they? make them realize that all this time they’ve been trying to escape when in reality, they can stand up and fight. just like their favorite heroes do. just like their friend did for them.

(btw its very important that their friend is a girl i should mention this)

let them get more confident over time, starting with them glaring at people who joke about their condition. then have it escalate into them taking a stand against anyone who says mean shit against them— have them tell people off for being ableist fucks (not words used in the show most likely) and make their friend be proud of it. make them grow closer with their friend over the course of the show, and have a scene where the two are alone. tissues would ask “…what’s it like to be a girl?” their friend would be a bit confused, but would explain it to the best of their ability. “…huh.” their friend asks why they asked “…i know… that some people don’t feel like the gender they were born with… and i always kind of identified with that.” “i was wondering because… because i felt strange about being a man. and i… i feel exactly like what you said.” Have their friend realize that. oh this guy is a girl actually. Have them offer the best advice they can, whether it be analytical or motherly or even a little awkward. and i want tissues to feel inspired to change. i want tissues’ title to change from The Sickness to The Adapter. someone who can change and grow no matter the situation— if only they try.

please consider this

-🥜🪶

#confession #/ii #/ii/tissues

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talkingparrotkee · 9 months

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I just want to say this, and yes, you know who you are:

Don't use Tenoch's allegations as a way to advance your shipping or character bias. Do not take advantage of a serious, divisive, and delicate case to claim moral superiority in fandom. Do not use this as your fandom whacking stick or fandom cancelation plug.

I am starting to notice anti-nashuri or Namor haters conflating fictional work and the character Namor with Tenoch Huerta in an asinine hope to:

A) carve remaining fans out as "problematic"

B) find an insidious way to justify their controlling, immature desire to have fans stop producing work they always had a hate for

Separate the actor and reality from the character and fiction, first and foremost. That's your problem now.

Who cares if there is a Nashuri week (which has been in progress before the allegations)? Who cares if fans still leave their stories up? Who cares if people still like Namor or Nashuri? Who cares if people still make Nashuri, Namor, or just Namor + Shuri edits? Who cares if some people still write and draw art of Namor rooted in their appreciation for Ryan Coogler and Joe Robert Cole's writing? No one sane should or would care. It's not "daring to have a nerve" or problematic. It isn't immediately them "defending" Tenoch.

As long as that's just what it is, fans can still be fans. Fans can still appreciate the characters and their relationships. Fans can still have escapism. Fans can still be happy and produce content that makes them happy. You have no right to impede on that, but you do have the right to feel uncomfortable or not want it on your feed. If that's the case, act accordingly: block, mute, press "uninterested," and curate your space. Not run and post these fake ass high and mighty spiels where you clearly concern yourself more with fandom (reporting fanart? Be for real) than the actual situation, trying to rile up a crowd and drum up negativity.

I have seen shaken fans of nashuri or Namor who have been victims of sexual violence and assault catching strays.

I have seen vulturish anti-Namor or anti-nashuri fans immediately taking this news as, "So this means you should finally stop doodling and liking a pairing/character I do not!"

I have seen gross anti-fans rub it in fans' faces, being the awful bearer of bad news and "watch dogs" hoping to gleefully observe them crumble.

I have seen immature Shuri (and other variants) stans who had it out for Namor or nashuri since day one, using this as a way to justify their hate and hateful behavior. It's almost as though they were waiting for something, anything like this to make a chess move (some of them admitting as much).

Do you know how manipulative, deceitful, and twisted this all is?

This isn't even accounting for the fact that Tenoch's situation is a difficult one to pinpoint as the story progressed, to say the very least. You'd know that if you truly gave a damn and followed the story or at the very least alleged victim. It's shrouded in specifics and unwinding stories.

There is ample information that later emerged and details (from Mexican politics to confirmed lies) that makes this case a very scary gray. I have seen many nashuri and Namor fans express dismay and sorrow over the news. People immediately weighed into the alleged victim's testimony and had serious conversations about where they wanted to go from there. Some pulled back their Namor content out of shock. People were torn and took this very seriously with a "blackout" period. It was only until further information that complicated everything came out that some decided to take different positions, while others still wanted to remain cautious and neutral, but still enjoy the little fandom haven they curated with their friends.

This is no light matter. There are real people and their livelihoods, lives on the line. People were distraught and, unlike most of these fake ass pearl grippers posting memes in the same breath, made an effort to initially follow the alleged victim (ready to renounce Tenoch) and dig for the truth. Fans even stressed to take the victims' words into consideration, rather than being blinded by celebrity worship.

So... To see anti-fans being utterly disingenuous and trying to villify a whole group whose crime is just liking a normal fictional property is insane. It's gross. It's sick. It's malicious. It's low.

It makes me livid, and I hope you reap what you sow. I am five seconds away from listing names and putting them on blast for this outrageous (continous) behavior. Someone liking a character Tenoch played or said character being shipped with another should be the least of your problem.

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chuckle-lore · 2 months

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youtube

Episode 2- February 6 2021- Holy shit we got lore

Lore-

To make things clear: whenever I mention someone in the lore section, I am strictly referring to their CS! character. (Also, sorry for being inconstant with time stamps but I was watching with my mom and I didn’t want to annoy her by rewinding every two minutes)

4:31 Schlatt says that Ted tried to snipe him for being absent

Ted both ogles Charlie and talks shit about his appearance (specifically his nose)

Charlie mentions how he can easily throw Ted off a roof and catch him before he falls on the ground and this is considered one rep. This implies that Charlie is much faster than the average human and is stronger than one as well even if it’s slightly.

20:10ish we get to know about “Two-Faced Teddy” which is the nickname Schlatt and Charlie use for Ted

Charlie mentions that Ted cries black tears which are later to be confirmed to be tar

Ted admits he is a demon and talks to voices in his head. He tells one of said voices that he refuses to kill Charlie and Schlatt. Wether these are voices in his head or of a higher power is unclear but they do seem to have at least some influence over Ted.

“There’s a lot of gray in the black and white” this quote from Schlatt that 1) goes hard and 2)implies his morally dubious nature

Schlatt gives rabies to animals and shoots them. The ability to give rabies is called the “rabies radar”

These three are messy bitches that ruin each other’s merch/photos for the drama

33:20 Schlatt “went back” and changed the three’s contracts so he can have 50% of the profits. I am interpreting this to be either the works of time travel or reality bending, but with the phrasing of “went back” I am personally leaning towards time travel.

The current profit split is Schlatt 50%, Charlie 30%, and Ted 20%, neither Ted or Charlie seem satisfied with this cut

Some time in the Charlie’s youth, he almost was dragged into a foam pit to drown by Ted, Charlie ends up escaping just to find out Ted was now his coach. The only ways I can think of this working is if Ted has the ability to either teleport, extreme speed, some type of time manipulation, reality bending or a mix of multiple options. Either way Ted is op.

Originally the bottom of foam pits were portals that take you to the end in Minecraft but this was quickly changed to be diseased ridden areas that creatures and Ted lurked in

To summarize the lore: Ted is a demon, Schlatt and Charlie are have some type of abilities and are possibly not human, and all three of them are petty

Thoughts: This episode was just so much fun, everyone was goofing around and I’m surprised that I never revisited this episode before starting this project but I had such a good time. If I had to recommend an episode to a new watcher, it would be this one 9/10 go watch it if you haven’t.

Things I noted:

I love seeing the fanart in the beginning and I wish they bring it back

There’s a frame that made it look like Schlatt was giving birth and I did NOT needed to see that (this docked a point from my score

The lighting in Ted’s room improved

My attention was distributed more evenly in here compared to the first episode where it felt like Charlie and Schlatt took up most of it

We see that one picture of roided up Charlie which I think is pretty iconic and am conflicted about it being considered lore. They all confirm that’s what Charlie looks like but the photo originated from twitter which violates the first requirement to becoming lore (content must’ve originated from chuckle sandwich) I am debating with myself whether or not I can consider this the official cs!Charlie designed.

(Original notes and roided Charlie under the cut)

#ep. 2 #chuckle lore #chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy #ted nivison #schlatt #jschlatt #charlie slimecicle #slimecicle #Youtube

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kaipotato · 1 month

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Announcement regarding my Hermitcraft AU

hello fellas! I am happy to announce the start of the fic writing for my Hermitcraft AU, which is currently dubbed the merger au, but the name is subject to change

there is a public doc with the lore, species, and introductory stuff which can be found here

canon designs will be posted over the coming week(s), starting the day this is posted

i will try to be consistent with chapters and im planning for once every month or sooner if possible

this is also my first ever fic so it WILL have flaws

the fic will contain light shipping with NO nsfw content, possible gore, and horror imagery so if any of that makes you uncomfortable DO NOT INTERACT

all shipping is of the characters, not ccs

and for the people who are new to the au, here is the intro which is also avalible on the public spreadsheet:

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[The fic would follow the pov of Scar but may alternate sometimes. It is set in season 10 and Scar is still suffering the effects of Secret Life.]

Since Scar never died in Secret Life, he was pulled out of the loop manually by the secret keeper and was almost coaxed into becoming one, but he escaped in time before any major damage was done.

Except the secret keeper follows him.

When Scar fled the watchers' realm, he accidentally led the secret keeper to the Hermitcraft S10 world, giving them access to it and every other Hermitcraft world before it. In an attempt to communicate with Scar and bring him back to the watchers,the secret keeper uses this new “tool” to mess with reality and merge the different worlds. Some days, a random building from season 8 might show up in a crater, other days Larry may return because “the snails built him on the cart” (lie), and sometimes this even affects the hermits themselves, causing sudden wardrobe, personality, and motive changes.

Like how Joel randomly grew a Tanooki tail when joining the server.

Many people blamed the servers' already weird aspects in terms of species, but others suspected it was caused by the transition to becoming a “hermit.” Joel himself claimed it was caused by too much time around Etho and that it was because “Etho is so obsessed he used his mind to give me a tail so that we had something in common.” No one believed him.

And we can’t forget Etho somehow getting a glass monopoly, which was also pointed out by some when the permits were handed out, and is also not possible since every hermit only got 6 shopping permits. The keeper seemed to favor Etho in this way.

Maybe it was Magic Mountain’s looming presence and mystic powers, but Scar felt that many things were off this season. From the weird references to past seasons, Etho’s odd luck, Joel’s mutations or…..

…..was it the feeling of not being alone?

---

aaand thats all you get for now ;)

all content will be under the hermitcraft merger au tag and any ideas or fanart is welcome! <3

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft merger au #hermitcraft au #hermitshipping #hermitblr #gtwscar #goodtimeswithscar

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atoriv-art · 5 months

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I really like your nejisasuneji fanart!I think the similarity between Neji and Sasuke in Naruto is worth exploring. Both of them come from the pupil aristocracy, and their strength is about the same (the early Byakugan and Sharingan are both very strong), and both of them are rebels. Regardless of whether it was fate or the system, both people failed in the end. Neji still failed to escape fate and became a scapegoat. Sasuke finally compromised to the old system and ran around in order to maintain the status quo. It is very appropriate to use one sentence to evaluate the two people: "Those who try to control their destiny end up being controlled by destiny."It will be interesting for the sasuneji two to help each other: Sasuke helps Neji reform the Hyuga clan and break the curse seal of the caged bird. At the same time, the reform of the Hyuga clan becomes the beginning of the reform of the old system of the ninja world. Neji, who is no longer controlled by the caged bird, becomes Sasuke's right-hand man.

yesssss this is what drew me to them! i find it very interesting they are both clan prodigies with Baggage and both come from prestigious clans no less. remember when the sharingan and byakugan were compared to each other and it meant anything ever that was FUN.

i particularly enjoy the idea of contrasting them because If I Wrote Naruto (said every naruto fan ever) this conflict of like. sasuke goes on to be the one who could Not bear to stay in konoha and then later turns against it, vs neji who stayed in konoha after being promised that things would change (and they didn't. funny that) would be something to be explored! especially after Both having been seen as Shitty, Angry Prodigies. but neji "calmed down" after being made promises that weren't kept and sasuke didn't let himself even consider falling for stuff like that (until the ending of naruto lmfao)

i'm a big fan of characters who contrast like that lol and i think the whole sharingan vs byakugan thing is a very fun backdrop to that. like dreams/illusions vs reality/truth? come on now.

people joke about it a lot i've seen, but literally if neji as a character were allowed to 1. exist in a meaningful way at all in shippuden lmfao 2. interact with sasuke, i do think it'd be an easy path for interesting interactions, because like. having to defend the village who's literally never helped you, against the guy who was also Never given any assistance or support growing up, AFTER the village made you countless promises that your life would get better when it literally did not? lol. lmao even

them teaming up is sincerely on the like top 5 best things that would happen If Naruto Made Any Sense to me to be honest i do think about it a lot.

#dojutsu drama WHEN.#anyone here like pokemon black and white. its like in pokemon black and white. truth vs ideals coming into conflict then reconciliation #adn whatnot.#the hyuga storyline actually makes me so angry because it's full of potential and yet.#like making a character like neji and NOT having his arc end with him being free of the curse mark WHILE STILL ALIVE is like. INSANE #instead him dying to achieve agency just like his dad is a GOOD THING? OKAY. I GUESS.#and hiashi going on to be painted as a Redeemed Guy when the kind of power he can wield against the other clan members is like.Unforgivable #like even having that ability even if you do not use it is Evil it's an implicit threat lol #ive made up a better version in my mind (said every naruto fan ever) so now i adore them but his canon rs with hinata also made me So mad.#also ik its just for convenience but its amusing to me to call it 'nejisasuneji' bc that shortens to nsn and like #i Cannot compete against the sns brand first of all i will die. second of all they will kill me i am but one man with a dream.#not art #enjoy hte sasuneji infodump that rotates in my brain 24/7

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nani-nonny · 1 year

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I thought I’d update my pinned so here goes:

Hello! I’m LoneAnon aka Nonny aka LoneAnonon on AO3! My current fixation is Rottmnt, more specifically Future Leonardo (peepaw brainrot) hehe, so a lot of my works as of recent are Future Leo related! Check them out when you can!

Important: my response to ai with my works

Current Work(s):

•WDS or Whispers of Distant Souls aka another F!Leo returns to the past with Casey fic but F!Leo is haunted by his dead brothers. WDS TEASER

•I’m Blue… da ba dee da… aka Reunion, DMD, LCD, and WDS F!Leos collide in one dimension due to a multiverse oopsey (aka aka a silly “what-if” story where my peepaws meet :).)

•(Accidentally) Played American Football With My Newborn aka a silly F!Leo story where he takes a small baby turtle to the past to stop the krang. Never did he think being a single parent would be harder than defeating the krang. (No turtle tots were harmed in the making of the title.) father-daughter fluff snippet

Completed Works:

•DMD AU or Dead Man’s Deal AU a series with an 8-chapter main story and ongoing side stories centered around F!Leo, who returns to the present carrying his heavy guilt that lands him in the Battled Nexus as the Barbarian. DMD Fanart

•Reunion aka a oneshot where F!Leo returns to the past in order to pick up Casey Jones (takes place after the movie).

•LCD or Leonardo Come Down aka a prologue+9-chapter fic where F!Leo returns to the past with Casey (separately) and is hellbent on getting his revenge. Casey is given the task by Michelangelo to stop the Krang and save Leonardo while F!Leo faces the consequences of his actions. LCD fanart aka my pfp

•Setting Sun aka a 5 part short, interactive story where the readers’ decisions can end the story, or discover the details of Mikey’s situation. (Unedited, no beta, silly little dumpster fire aka something bad that you might not want to look away despite how bad it is) AO3 link

•Distorted Mirror aka a 4 chapter rottmnt Leo-centric fic focusing on his role as the leader in silly time travel oopsies. (The oopsies being the future timeline with the krang apocalypse hehe)

•BYMH or Between You and Me and Him aka an ongoing series where you can ask any of my peepaws anything, or tell them you hate love them. [Peepaw multiverse interview] (please state your request as for bymh)

More to see:

Upcoming Works:

•Lost Ronin aka F!Raph returns to the past under “circumstances” and it’s up to the present turtles to solve these “circumstances”.

•Estranged aka an AU where the Hamatos reunite with their long-lost sisters, Jennika and Venus. (Based on the two turtles meant to be introduced in rottmnt future seasons—we were robbed tsk tsk.) Teaser: Two Birds Jennika and Venus appearance

•(possible?) The M-Word aka a 5?-chapter post-Rise-movie angst fic that deals with Raphael’s trauma regarding what he endured in the midst of the invasion.

•(possible?) Inimitable/Spiderweb aka Big Mama imprisons F!Leo to force him to train her upcoming Battle Nexus Champions in exchange for his freedom.

•(possible?) Reunion F!Leo returns to the past once again to provide ultimate peepaw advice and give the kids the reassurance they need.

•I’m In The Wrong AU aka a joke idea where F!Leo goes through the portal to find the key and stop the krang, but he finds himself in a New York unlike the one he knows. Rottmnt x ‘12tmnt crossover

•Mystic Mirror on the wall, who the fuck are those turtles?/A Genius’s Curiosity/Mirror Realm Activities (name still undecided) aka a separated au where Donnie is raised by Draxum, Mikey raised by Big Mama, Raph raised by the Krang and Leo raised by the streets. The turtles are reunited by Donnie aka Subject 03’s newest creation, a mirror that goes beyond its purpose and creates a realm inside its reflection that the turtles use as their escape from reality.

[Tcest DNI]

[Story tags and asks tag below]

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bookishtheaterlover7 · 5 months

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Not sure how to view Chris anymore and it’s sad. At this point whatever the “truth” is, it doesn’t matter.

I’m just floored at how someone could be so weak to get into this mess and not “be able to get out”and it’s easy to say oh it’s hard for him to get out but he’s at least trying to show this is fake, yet he was bold enough to lie to the world about being married?

Make that make sense?

Like how the fuck do they clean this up at all?

It’s like reality and illusions are morphing together and I honestly don’t know who the fuck this man truly is and maybe that’s the way it should’ve always been.

We get wrapped up in this shit mainly due to the way of the world and due to Hollywood and capitalism, etc, but we have to take accountability by finally choosing to not fall for seeing other mere mortals as anything but human.

If you take any random person off the street, clean them up, give them a great marketing team, BOOM you have a new celebrity. It’s all a big awful joke of illusion.

No more rose colored glasses. It’s to the point fandoms and celebrity today is seeing a blue sky but being duped into believing it’s green.

Unfortunately most will never understand the above and never take those glasses off.

This applies to fans, non fans and just the overall population of the world who are willing and unwilling and unaware at how impacted we all are by celebrity culture. A headline makes waves or something goes viral and we ALL stop our lives to read or listen about it and many hop online to discuss and argue with others over various things, not once seeing the reality……you’re taking time out of YOUR life to focus on someone who doesn’t even know you exist, wasting YOUR time discussing crap about someone else who is living their life and getting rich off of you and someone who uses media to stay relevant through…..Y-O-U!

*breaks rose colored glasses* for good.

💔👓

#EnoughIsEnough

Same, An🫶n. Honestly before I was sucked in here, Chris was the ideal guy for me... Ofcourse, Papa was right. He told me once that "I shouldn't place anyone on a pedestal, because anything placed that high, is meant to break."

I've got nothing but love for Chris and his work. But the way this is all spun, real or not, I'm not sure if I can keep adoring him as a person.

Like I've said before, we can't exactly blame Chris, alone for getting into this mess in the first place. But if those breadcrumbing and hinting on his end isn't true (the hope and rumor that he's telling us that anything about the wedding is fake, etc.), An🫶n is right.

He's not a saint, but he's not a demon either. But the thing is, he isn't going to be just Chris Evans, the actor we all love and adore. The actor we'll be happy for when he gets his small victories. Whose dog is one of the best things on the internet during this whole mess right now.

He's also going to be Chris Evans, the guy who "married" a racist, who's friends have baited the entire Fandom. The guy who couldn't save his fans from tearing at each other. The guy who let this get so out of hand, that the one place that should've been safe for us to escape to, and enjoy everything, disappeared in mere months.

I'm planning to stick around, because I know for a fact, a ton of you were here for the fan-made stuff. The fanfics, fanarts, discussions about characters, etc.

I came here for that too. Doesn't mean I'm giving up this whole thing. But I'm going to take time to go back to the fun part. Because honestly, my page has turned into an analysis page😅 it's 70% rant posts about the bullshit pr, and 30% me and my fics...

Bro! I intended to make fucking fics before 250 Followers Celebration comes... But I'm way behind... Partly, because of life. And partly because the second something goes down, I drop nearly everything, and focus so much time and energy on this.

So, I'm not saying drop him or any celeb completely. I'm saying we need to tone down our idolization, because it may have gotten to the point where it isn't healthy.

For the sake of your health, mental and otherwise, Fandom. Take time to enjoy what you love about this Fandom. And please don't say anything about tearing the PR Narrative, because even I have to admit, it takes it's toll.

Again, not backing down, or stepping down. Just giving myself time to take care of me, and spend time with my family while they're still alive.

I don't know if this Christmas season will be the last that I get to spend time with any of them, so I'm going to make sure I live every minute with them. And not stuck in this hole I've dug myself for months, since the wedding announcement.

And you should all do that for yourselves, guys. Take the time, and make it count.

#An🫶n asks #booky reacts #booky answers #booky's thoughts #booky rant post #chris evans #chris evans fandom #love you guys!#❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️#P.S. can someone please open up some form of character discussion? I've always wanted to try it 😁

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killedbyfrank · 9 months

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Inside Out Iceberg

Inside Out is an amazing movie with a deep message and a dedicated fandom, or what's left of it. While the movie explores Riley's mind far and wide, it still leaves a lot of questions unanswered, some simple, some dark and complicated.

So I made this iceberg to explore the dark side of Inside Out. The iceberg concept is a metaphorical framework often used to illustrate the idea that what we see on the surface is only a small fraction of a larger, hidden and often disturbing reality.

This iceberg includes some known facts, known and lesser known theories and even a couple of headcanons, just for fun.

The Surface

Emotions Shipping: Just like in any fandom, fans usually ship characters together and Inside Out is no different with ships such as Starnerve, Brickoli, Joyness and more.

Sleeping Quarters: A simple yet difficult question to answer. The emotions are shown to reside in a tiny little house up the ramp in HQ. What's in that room? How big is it?

Glow: Joy and Sadness are the only emotions that glow, with the former being much more visible. A theory states that Joy's glow intensity depends on her mood.

Fanfics: Inside Out has a lot of rich and diverse fanfictions, with a few becoming iconic such as Intercom and An Emotional School Year.

Mind Candy: Some simple but cute snippets of the emotions interacting alone or with each other.

NSFW: Artworks that depict the Inside Out characters engaging in sexual activities or gore and mutilation. Some should be banished to the shadow realm.

Below the Surface

Parents' names: Riley's dad is named Bill, while Riley's mom is named Jill. Nice one, Pixar.

Pixar Shipping: Even those at Pixar ship Inside Out characters together. I wonder if some ship Brickoli...

Surprise?: Surprise was supposed to be in the movie, but was cut off due to being too similar to Fear. Maybe Inside Out 2 will bring it back.

Riley's clothing: Throughout the movie and not only, Riley wears different shirts representing her state of mind. During the first day of school she's seen wearing a yellow jacket, forcing Joy upon her. At the end, her mood darkens, reflected by a black hoodie.

Easter eggs: It not uncommon for Pixar to put Easter eggs and cameos in their own movies. Hard to notice at first.

Advertisement Campaign: Inside Out had a pretty aggressive marketing campaign, sponsoring brands such as Clorox and Subway, even encouraging fanarts. Pixar was trying to hype it up.

Into the depths

Fear & Joy outside of HQ instead of Sadness: Originally, Pete Docter intended to explore Fear, since he as a teenager was mostly afraid.

Alternative Titles: In Latin America, Inside Out is known as Intensa Mente. In Spain, they called it Del Revés (Reverse). In Russia, it is titled головоломка (Brain Breaker), and in China, it is 玩轉腦朋友 (Fun with Brain Friends).

Emotions had names: Initially, Emotions were supposed to have proper human names. Fear for example was known as Freddie and so on. Joy is the only one that kept this idea. In the Italian dub, she's known as Gioia, which directly translates to Joy and is also a proper Italian name.

27 emotions: The movie initially was supposed to have many more emotions. This idea seems to have been picked up again for the sequel. Bad idea.

Unlikable Joy: Joy was supposed to be very unlikable, saying things as "We should spit on that girl's face". This was done on purpose so that the viewer would align with Sadness.

Nightmare Productions: Dream Productions is in charge of Riley's dreams and nightmares as well. In theory, they could give endless nightmares to Riley and all kinds of nightmares. Some may call this sadistic.

Into the Abyss...

The Subconscious: This is where Riley's worst fears are kept. They're locked behind a flimsy wooden door, lightly guarded and protected. This could mean Riley is weak minded or very susceptible to her fears. If everything escaped from there, it would certainly mean apocalypse.

The true villain: Joy's aggressive need of control, leaving behind Sadness, causing destruction within Riley's mind, forcing happiness upon every situation, using a ladder of imaginary boyfriends sentencing them to fall into the Memory Dump... These are just some of the things Joy did throughout her journey. Her philosophy crumbled like a house of cards.

Disgust/Joy rivalry: These two probably aren't the bestest of friends. They often have disagreements, and are the opposite of each other. As shown in some clips, Joy seems to enjoy it when Disgust is having a bad time.

Parents' jobs: We don't currently know what their jobs are, how they maintain the family. I've seen a theory that Riley's father used to be an US soldier, due to his mind resembling a Cold War nuclear submarine.

Genderfluid Riley: According to some individuals, Riley is genderfluid, due to her having different gendered emotions. This is highly unlikely.

Schizophrenia: Riley can actually hear her emotions talking, even see them. She's imagining everything in her mind...

Flesh mech: Riley has no control over herself... she's simply a meatbag controlled by her emotions, not guiding but controlling Riley's every single movement and action. This is especially shown in the "5 seconds rule" clip.

We all are the same: There is no divide between the mind workers and the emotions. The mind workers have probably never even seen them. There's no hierarchy, just work, work endlessly for Riley and nothing else matters. What exactly is everyone working for? What are they driven by? Are they all... expandable?

The Bottom...

Anger is the antagonist: He causes Riley to be angry, he often abuses Fear, yells at everyone, dislikes everything. He indirectly caused Bing Bong's demise by destroying the various islands of personality, making it harder for Joy and Sadness coming back, KNOWING that him touching the console would have destructive consequences. What if he did it on purpose?

Stalinist Dictatorship: Riley, Riley, Riley and nothing else. Everyone works for Riley. Everything else comes second. There are cards with her face on them, her initial on Goofball Island, everyone works constantly, every day, all day for Riley, with possibly no retribution. Endless amounts of workers, in a society where Riley is everything to them, similar to a socialist state.

Emotions can't quit: Quote by Disgust. They were never meant to leave Headquarters. They are meant to stay confined there, without ever having the chance to go outside their residence. Why else would the Headquarters be suspended on the Memory Dump, with one way in and out? There is no escape.

There is no happiness... none. Riley was never truly happy in her life. No happy life with only sad moments in between, but a sad life with only happy moments here and there. The true Riley was the one we saw at the end. Depressed.

#inside out #inside out fandom #inside out disgust #inside out anger #inside out joy #inside out fear #inside out sadness #iceberg #inside out 2

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crazedauthor · 2 years

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Hello! I am Crazed (she/her) and I have so many gremlins yelling in my head to write. Since sometimes I go crazy with art reblogs, I thought I’d make a pinned post for my writing so people can find it easier. This will be edited as I publish more of my works (I do have more stuff to share later :3).

Current Works in Progress

404: Personal Space Not Found || Sun/Reader (Five Nights at Freddy’s), Moon/Reader (Five Nights at Freddy’s) || Rated Teen || Chapters 8/? || Ongoing

A reader-insert fic heading towards romantic shenanigans with Sun and Moon from Security Breach. But first, Reader has to survive the mysteries of the Pizzaplex and the neglected Daycare Attendants, as well as their own anxiety and tendency towards self-destruction. Sun is anxious, but caring. Moon is dangerous, but lonely. Reader can barely hold a full conversation, but is determined to butt their nose into other’s problems.

Coiled Around the Fine Line Between Love and Fear || Sun/Reader (Five Nights at Freddy’s), Moon/Reader (Five Nights at Freddy’s) || Rated Teen || Chapters 5/? || Ongoing

A naga AU where Reader is a botany grad student who narrowly escapes death at the hands of a landslide, saved by naga Sun and taken back to his cave where he lives with his brother, Moon. Sun is eager to help his new human friend while Moon is reluctant, but willing to go along with it. The one problem? Reader has a severe phobia of snakes.

Reality is Stranger than Fiction when Five Nights at Freddy's is More Real than You || Sun/Reader (Five Night's at Freddy's), Moon/Reader (Five Nights at Freddy's) || Rated Mature || Chapters 3/? || Ongoing

A classic DCA fic with a twist: the reader is from our world. They've been isekaied into a different dimension where FNAF is real. The animatronics are real. Now they find themselves in the middle of Security Breach's setting, getting work as a security guard at the Mega Pizzaplex to try and find answers where there may be none. But their biggest struggle? They used to be a huge fan of Sun and Moon. How will they deal with forming a bond with the real life daycare attendants, especially when those simping feelings start morphing into genuine ones?

I am happy to receive any questions you have about my writing! Fanart is okay and actually makes me very happy! If you make some, please tag me so I can see it!

Asks: Open

credit for image goes to feralmoonlight

#pinned post

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skylarsblue · 9 months

Text

✦New Life from Old Battlegrounds✦

(SoapGhost Content based purely on a piece of fanart by a Twitter mutual. Will I make more than one chapter? Perhaps) ✧TW; References to past abuse(Simon), implied death during childbirth(Simon), reference to a domestic dispute(Johnny) ✧Fluff, Mild Angst, Single Dad!AU✧

★Link to Ao3 Ver : ★Link to fanart that inspired it

✧Meeting✧

John hummed to himself as he walked down the street, dodging people passing him and contemplating what to make for dinner. At the same time, he noted the things around him, thoughts bouncing from subject to subject as it always did. His mother used to joke that if he didn’t learn to contain his thoughts, one day, his brain would be sick of being in his skull and it’d escape. Bounce all over the room like he did. He gave a quick snort at the memory, making a quick note that he’d need to call her again, since it’d been about a week since he’d spoken to her last. It was still very odd being far from her. It’d been such a change from his original plan as a teen, though, he supposed his entire life at that point was far from his young plans for his life.

For starters, he’d been certain he’d be more in the military for longer than he was. He wasn’t completely free from government work, but he wasn’t a constant on-call soldier anymore either. Most of his job was paperwork now. Was it his preferred job? Admittedly, no. He often missed the days on base, the training, the adrenaline rush of battle. Not that he liked to complain, he had it good regardless, he felt so anyway. He’d always been the optimistic type. The way his job was now kept him home more, it was safer, the pay was good, and it was honestly nice to have access to food outside of MREs. He most certainly did not miss the MREs. While his teenage self, and himself in his younger twenties, flourished in the aggressive environment of war, he couldn’t keep that life. Thanks to another curveball from the universe.

John had never considered himself to be fitting of the definition “playboy”, though some of his extended family and exes disagreed. He had no issue with being tied down, though it always seemed it never lasted very long. Be it due to personal differences or the way the military kept him away. He always did his best to be a good partner, not perfect, but good. Still, the longest committed relationship he’d had lasted about two years and a couple months, and that had been when he was fresh out of his teens. All the poor experiences and seeming inability to keep a partner, he didn’t fear the prospect at all. He still looked forward to having a partner permanently one day, getting settled down and such. But that didn’t stop him from casual fun either. He never saw any reason why two adults couldn’t have fun for a night, and leave it there. The problem was really the risk that came with that kind of fun, specifically when his partner had the biological equipment for pregnancy. He’d had one scare when he was sixteen, but that also turned out to be his first experience with a cheating partner. Aside from that, he skated through his pleasureful escapades without problems. He was clean and childless.

Until he wasn’t.

He’d gotten a little too cocky with an apartment neighbor turned casual fuck-buddy, and he came home from a mission to a rather pissed off expression on her face and a DNA test in her hand. It wasn’t ideal by any means, both had agreed on that. It scared him to all death. But his mother had carried many children, and his father sunk in the lesson that it was a woman’s choice completely. He wasn’t carrying anything, his body wouldn’t be changing, so he left the decision up to her. She wasn’t happy with the reality but a heavily religious upbringing made the idea of an abortion out of her options, even if she was rebelling from the eye of God. He’d only nodded when she had said the thought of getting one made her sick. At first, the plan was to try at an actual relationship. They liked each other enough to have sex, he made her laugh plenty, she had a lot of sweet qualities John admired. But by the eighth month, whether it was hormones or the reality of a child weighing heavy on her mind, she’d turned into quite the she-beast, to put it lightly. To the point Johnny sported a new scar on the palm of his hand from a lamp being thrown at his skull.

It became very apparent a relationship wouldn’t work. However, John also couldn’t shake the attachment he’d grown to the child he’d helped create. The last month of her pregnancy was hell on his psyche, but he stuck it out in the hope he’d get to see the baby, even if he’d have to fight it out in a court. Something his eldest sister, Edith, promised to help him with, should it be messy. Thankfully for him, however, the mother really hadn’t been too keen on staying that way. It admittedly stung when she’d responded so poorly after delivering the child, even the nurse winced at her coldness. John got one hundred percent of the parental rights, however, without a court case or a fight. Even if the prospect of being a single father scared him halfway into an early grave. He had many nights where he stayed up on the phone with either his mother or his sister, needing both advice and pep talks. And he still held a pill of guilt from the one night he considered giving his new daughter up for adoption, truly worried he wasn’t cut out for it.

Though, much to the joy of his current self, he’d stuck it out. He had to change and sacrifice a lot, and every now and then, he had the wonder of what would’ve happened had he not taken responsibility. But the thought was often rocketed out of his brain by the simple image of his daughter’s excited face when he came to pick her up from school. A very small, old building, situated in Leek, England. When the baby had just been born and the situation was still fresh, he wanted to give the woman who’d given birth to his daughter to change her mind. So he’d stayed in England, albeit a completely different town. He wasn’t so open to the idea now that he’d raised her, but the town had charmed him, and he wasn’t hugely fond of the concept of taking his daughter out of her hometown. Even if he missed Scotland often. Though he did everything he could to ensure his daughter wouldn’t end up with an English accent. Had it taken a decent chunk of money to get a cable package that included Scottish channels with Scottish cartoons? Yes. Did he regret it? Not at all. Visiting his family for holidays also helped. His daughter, named Maisie, was very fond of her visits to the country. Part of him hoped it could set up for her being open to moving there when she was older, though he didn’t cling to that idea very tightly. He had plenty of time before her teen years. Or, at least he told himself that, even if she turned five at the speed of light. Much like his second oldest sister, Davina, warned him.

John jogged when he spotted the school just ahead. He occasionally drove the distance, but it often wasn’t worth the gas it wasted, not when he could walk the distance with ease. Children filed out to their parents, the sound of little laughter never failed to make John grin. He’d always loved kids, even before being a parent to one. Likely because of the large family he came from. After all, he was the fifth kid born out of seven. His mother was a triplet, and his father had six sisters. The family events were more like circuses with the amount of kids. Sometimes it was hard to get any attention at all. It didn’t affect his adoration for his bloodline though…excluding the occasional prick of an aunt or step-uncle.

The blue-eyed man walked up to the school, whistling a tune as his hands came to rest on his jean-clad hips. It was warm for once, without a layer of overcast in the sky. John tapped the rhythm of a song stuck in his head on this hip, eyes scanning through kids, parents, and teachers. Stopping once to give an awkward nod and strained smile to a mom he’d met at a school event once. He averted his eyes quickly however. Not to throw a woman under the bus, but John wasn’t too fond of her less-than-subtle flirting she’d chuck his way whenever he went to an event for his daughter. He hadn’t dated since Maisie’s mother, for his own sake and hers. And even if that wasn’t a factor, he was about ninety-nine percent sure the woman was married. John was a lot of things, but a homewrecker certainly wasn’t one.

His brain flicked back on when he heard a familiar little voice shout a goodbye. With a genuine grin this time, John turned and spotted his little girl waving to someone. He let out a sharp whistle, something he’d picked up from when his father owned horses. Quickly, Maisie turned and searched for her father, breaking out into a look of pure joy. Little Mary-Janes clacked on the stone as she sprinted to him. John crouched down and held open his arms, ready to receive. As soon as she reached him, he hoisted her up high with a laugh, reveling in her joyous giggle. He brought her down and set her on his hip, supported by his arm.

“Didn’t you have a bow in yer hair when I sent ya here?” John questioned, and Maisie looked away. “Uhhh noooo?” She lied, making him snort. “Ya lil’ bugger, you yelled at me all mornin’ for not tying it right!” He playfully scolded, making her laugh as he pinched at her side, having her curl away from the ticklish feeling. “I kept the piggies in though!” Maisie retorted, touching the tiny brunette pigtails in her hair. They were a bit messy now, but to her word, they were intact. John sighed with a head shake. “‘Suppose you got a point there. Where’d the ribbon go then?” He asked, subconsciously taking her rucksack when she took it off and held it away from her.

With the pink strap over his shoulder, looking hilariously small against his frame, he watched her eyes grow with excitement. “I gave it to my new friend! I tied it around her wrist and told her to wear it until I could make her a bracelet.” The little girl explained proudly. The ex-soldier tilted his head with a little chuckle. “A bracelet huh? For a new friend? You must like her a lot. That’s a high honor, lass.” He commented. Maisie bobbed her head aggressively, showing she agreed quite intensely. “She’s my best friend now. She’s new to town too! She said she lived in Manchester before, but her dad didn’t like the school she was in, so they came here.”

John hummed with a quick nod, showing he was listening. He adjusted her on his hip and opened his mouth to speak, ready to suggest a treat before they went home, seeing as how it was such a nice day out. But he paused when his gaze caught on a figure near the front of the school. There wasn’t really anything amiss at first. Just another parent picking up their child it seemed, based on the little blonde girl that was being cautiously lifted off the ground. But it was Maisie’s outburst that made his eyes stick. She pointed with a smile. “That’s my friend! Her name is Ellie!” The information barely registered as John took in the stranger.

Tall, broad, with an aura he’d only attributed to an animal before. A doberman-like intimidating energy. Dressed in almost all black with a black surgical mask across the lower half of his face. An image of intensity only broken by the soft, chubby features of Maisie’s new friend. Round and rosy cheeks with big eyes. John couldn’t look away from the man’s face though, noting a noticeable scar that ran to the stranger’s temple, barely clipping the end of his eyebrow and leaving a subtle indent in the short blond hair at his temple. Just as John was about to force his eyes away, the man turned slightly, and their gazes locked. Cliche and beyond cheesy, but John was suddenly stunned by just how pretty this man's eyes were. Instead of holding the borderline scary aura the rest of him did, they held a gentleness. Light eyelashes in contrast to cinnamon brown. There was a purple tint under the man’s eyes, adding to the naturally tired slope of his eye shape. John always liked eyes, he always found them his favorite thing to look at on people’s faces. Although here, he was suddenly very acutely aware that he had been straight up deadpan staring at a man he didn’t know for God knows how long. The man also clearly noticed, given the uncomfortable shift in his shoulders and the almost anxious glance away, only to connect back with John’s eyes. Obviously, double checking if he was meaning to stare at him. Thankfully, Maisie’s voice helped break John’s train of thought and pull him from his own head.

“Can Ellie come over?” Maisie questioned. “Huh? Oh, uh. We would need to ask her pa, bò.” Her father stammered a bit, looking down at her, although he was certain he could feel the other man’s stare still on him. Internally, he worried he’d already sealed in a bad impression. There was nothing more awkward than accidentally staring at a stranger for seemingly no reason, and then getting caught. “Well he’s over there, let’s go ask!” Maisie tugged at the collar of John’s shirt. He sighed quietly and took a second to prepare how he’d manage that. He debated if he should open with his name or just boldly state an apology. When he decided he’d figure it out once in front of the man, he took in a breath and readied himself to charm his way out of the awkward tension he’d just built.

However, when he looked up, fully prepared to walk toward the man, he was startled by the masked stranger being suddenly closer. A safe distance away but close enough for a conversation. Maisie didn’t miss a beat, waving happily at Ellie who returned the gesture albeit with less enthusiasm. John blinked before he coughed, rolling his shoulders and smiling. Needing to look up was something new. He wasn’t short by any means, and he’d met plenty of tall people, but there was something about the rest of his man’s energy that made his height seem all the more intense. “Afternoon, ‘m John, Maisie’s dad. Uh…sorry about the staring. Wasn’t intentional, was meant to be more of a glance and I forgot to move my eyes.” The Scot said with far less grace than he’d hoped for, he was even using his hand to talk, a habit he always had but that often worsened when he was nervous. The man blinked slowly at him before holding out a hand, which John noted was gloved, despite the warm weather. The gloves had bone detailing on them.

“Simon.” Ellie’s father answered through a gravelly voice and thick accent. John silently hoped his relief wasn’t too visible as he reached to shake the extended hand, shoulders less tense. “Pleasure to meet’cha, Simon.” He said genuinely, letting his hand come to rest on the strap of Maisie’s bag. He inhaled to speak again, only for his daughter to cut in. “Can Ellie come over to play?” She asked quite loudly. John sighed and patted her on the arm. “It’s “may”, lass. Also say please, and don’t interrupt.” He said, voice soft as he reminded her. Though his tone was gentle, she straightened her back and quickly addressed him with an apology before looking back at Simon. “I’m sorry. May Ellie come over to play, please?” She asked, slower this time. Simon hummed and shifted his weight a bit. He looked down at his daughter, asking silently for her opinion. Ellie nodded with a shy grin. Simon looked to John again. “I’m not too keen on her being at stranger’s houses.” He said calmly. His blunt tone made Maisie deflate, taking it as a complete no. John did as well, but he was quick to offer a solution. “Well that’s alright. There’s a park near a shopping center nearby, Maisie goes there every weekend. If you have the time, maybe we could meet there instead. Let the girls play without havin’ to be at one of our houses.”

Simon tilted his head back down to his daughter once more, Ellie nodded up at him again, this time her eyes wider and her head shook more intently. “That’ll do.” Simon replied calmly. Maisie perked up again, swinging her legs with excitement as John gained a smile of his own. He struggled to bring out his phone and unlock it with only one hand. Simon rose an eyebrow curiously until the brunet held out his phone, open to a new contact page. “We can work out the details whenever ya have a second.” John explained. Simon took the device carefully. He adjusted Ellie so she could wrap her short arms around his neck. John bit back a snicker when the little girl hung from her father’s neck, allowing him to have both hands free. With the freedom, he slipped off a glove so he could type in his number and his first name into the contact. Once it was done, he handed the phone back and let Ellie rest back on his arm.

“Alright then! That’s solved, just let me know when you get an opening in your schedule.” John nodded. Maisie was silently climbing up his form to get on his shoulders, something he adjusted to seamlessly while keeping Simon’s gaze. His legs turned and ready to leave. Simon tilted his head subtly. “What ‘bout your schedule?” He questioned lightheartedly. John chuckled. With one hand holding Maisie’s ankle, he gently bumped Simon’s shoulder with his fist. “I’ll save you a spot, sir.” He said cheerfully. Simon blinked and followed the Scot with his shocked eyes as John started to walk away. Maisie waved to Ellie and shouted a loud goodbye. Simon could feel the gentle touch through the fabric of his jumper long after it was gone, and it stunned him a bit. He blinked before sighing. “Bloody hell…” He mumbled before turning to walk in the opposite direction, keeping his daughter tucked in his arm. . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Simon bounced his leg as the train shook on the tracks. He kept his gaze either in his lap or out the window, although acutely aware of his surroundings. He always was very observant, no matter where he went. He knew there were a total of twelve other people in his cab and he’d clocked one as an alcoholic off the bat. Spotting a hidden brown bag in the suited man’s bag, amongst various business documents and folders. The pristine suit and silk tie meant nothing. Simon was sure to sit furthest from that stranger, even if he’d been occupied with a meeting on his laptop. It wasn’t his business and he didn’t care to hear the stranger’s sob story, he didn’t really care. The detail-oriented system his brain operated under was built from training.

Simon needed to spot subtle dangers, it was the only reason he was alive to see anything at all. If his childhood strife wasn’t enough to train his subconscious on how to spot the incoming dangers before they occurred, allowing him time to prepare for the fallout or prevent the situation entirely. The years he spent in the SAS certainly did. If anything escaped his line of sight, people would be dead, his own life included. All it took was a single blindspot taken advantage of to send blood splattering to the ground. He’d seen it, he’d caused it. It wasn’t something to take lightly and it was a habit he knew he’d never get rid of. Not that it was a bad skill to have, it kept him alive, although there were days he yearned for a life more peaceful.

He’d never been free from pain or trauma, if he wanted that, he’d have to reincarnate completely. Something he doubted God, if the being even existed, would be willing to give him. His father’s torment, however the most damaging on his mind when at its most malleable, seemed like the least of his mental struggles. Even if he still had nightmares where the feeling of a reptile’s dangerous and scaled lips touched his own. They paled in comparison to other images that would keep him up at night. The feeling of unwanted hands or the scent of earth mixed with a body’s decaying organs were by far the worst ones, though even those had gotten better. Mostly with time. They weren’t as frequent, thankfully. He had more recent agonies, ones that still stung like fresh. The loss of his entire family but the one man he’d disowned weighed on him heavily, the bruising ache of betrayals from people he considered friends. All these things only kept at bay from keeping himself busy, or, when they were at their worst, an uncharacteristically vulnerable discussion with his coworker and past superior. But all these things were years in the past. His most recent internal gash was only five years behind him, and while he’d begun to walk away from it, he still felt it burn under his skin.

Simon very rarely got close to anyone. Every time he did, it seemed they either died, grew to hate him, eventually betrayed him, or merely vanished. Sometimes he’d ask himself what he’d done to deserve it, occasionally he’d brood in a fit of emotional anger over what those who’d wronged him had done. Usually though, he’d bared with it, even expected it. Every individual he met, he readied himself for something to go wrong. It hadn’t been any different when he’d accidentally bumped into a woman at a library, almost knocking the poor thing over. He was exhausted and a bit woozy from some pain meds he’d been prescribed, thanks to a bullet wound that knocked him in his lower ribs.

She’d been nothing but benevolent, and to call her anything but beautiful would’ve been a crime. Simon had a brand new urge when she’d smiled at him, the urge to run, sprint as far as possible. Her dimpled cheeks, wavy & glowing honey-blonde hair, and kindhearted eyes squeezed the oxygen from his lungs, almost taking out his knees. She even helped him find a book he’d actually enjoy, which he did. It would’ve been bad enough with that one encounter, but then he bumped into her again in a cafe. This time, it was her who knocked into him, promptly covering his hoodie in tea, much to her horror. Simon felt nauseous when his heart stuttered, watching her apologize frantically and ask if he was okay, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, even when he assured her it was fine.

It was the third time, at a pub, that he learned her name. It was also that time that she’d graced him with her number. He didn’t contact her for a month. Even in the current day, he wasn’t sure what prompted him to call her. His apartment had just been so quiet, the rain so loud, and his heart heavy. Something about her sleep-addled voice must’ve flicked a hidden switch in his brain, because that phone call spurred a relationship. Not a whirlwind romance like in the movies by any means. He didn’t know how to treat her, and he pulled away from her frequently. She’d broken down in tears once when he’d gone a month avoiding her, having assumed she’d done something wrong. That night had ended with him held tightly to her body, earning a kiss with more emotion than he thought he was capable of.

It was the longest relationship he’d had. Technically speaking, given he didn’t really count the on & off situationship he’d battled with from the ages of fourteen to sixteen. All that had done was tell him he wasn’t straight, he hated disco music, and he wasn’t fond of the constant anxiety of his father’s heavy hand over a relationship that wasn’t even exclusive. It also was the kindest relationship he’d had, perhaps even on a platonic level. He could never wrap his head around how someone so gentle could exist. How a voice could feel like a blanket’s warmth on shivering skin, how a touch could feel so safe, or how perfume could be so intoxicating. He’d been so disarmed so fast it baffled him.

He’d known her for four months, dated her for two, and admitted he loved her the entire time on the third month. Coincidentally, the same month she’d shyly placed a positive pregnancy test in his hand. She’d been terrified to tell him, clearly. Probably because he’d been very avoidant on the topic of family, while she’d mentioned her dream of motherhood early on. Simon almost ran again, he’d gotten on a bus in the middle of the night when she’d gone to sleep. He wasn’t sure where, it was his apartment she was sleeping in. He was never sure how he’d ended up at the cemetery his mother was buried in, but it shocked him into going back home. His father was a stain on his DNA, a coward and a bastard. He already resembled the man, the last thing he needed to do was fall into the pit of spineless decisions the man had.

It didn’t scare him any less. Even when the idea of being responsible for a newborn had begun to lighten up, the worry something bad would happen only got heavier. He prayed for it to be paranoia as her stomach grew. He’d even asked whatever god that would listen to put the weight of anything awful to fall on himself, not her or the baby. And he cursed whatever God existed when her water broke far too early, and when it sent the sweetest woman he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting into utter agony. He always hated hospitals, and that hatred worsened when he had to carry her into the ER. He’d paced for hours. There was a risk of losing the baby, something that made his stomach twist. There was a risk of losing her, something that made his chest tighten. There was a risk of losing both, something that actually made him vomit in a trashcan near the waiting room. He couldn’t decide which was worse.

Simon didn’t get to decide either. He’d been handed a tiny, fragile baby girl swaddled in blankets. She was beautiful, but the moment wasn’t sweet. When he made eye contact with the nurse, the woman’s face said enough, and for the first time in a long time, Simon sobbed. Enough for his entire body to shake. His coworker had to hold him that night, it was the only way to keep him together. “I’m sorry, Simon.” was all the bearded man could say, in a voice gruff from years of ordering soldiers and smoking, but filled with genuine heartache for the man broken once again.

His daughter, Ellie, came out fine. She was small and fragile, sure, but alive. Simon had to ask his friend if babies ever remembered their newborn phase, purely in fear that his child would remember him crying while keeping her swaddled up on his chest. He couldn’t even use the nursery he’d help make, he moved the crib into his room, right by his bed. Though, for the first month he didn’t even use it. He slept with the newborn on his chest, hands rested on her small form, just to make sure she wouldn’t vanish. He even became on a first name basis with the pediatrician because he visited so often, constantly burning with anxiety. The doctor told him to go to his own care physician and get a prescription for Xanax, lest he collapse from the stress. Having such a dramatic change wasn’t good for his health. His friend took it upon himself to make everything as easy for Simon as physically possible. From a shift in careers to watching the baby so Simon could finally sleep, even if he needed a mountain of melatonin to do it.

He pulled himself together. Even if the time he’d spent with the angel he’d met at the library was cut short, something he somehow managed to blame himself for, up until his daughter Ellie was three. She was the spitting image of himself aside from two things, two things he treasured about her the most. In her brown eyes, the left held a split of color, bright green, the color her mother had. The other feature was a singular mole on her tiny shoulder, just adjacent to her neck, exactly where her mother had one. He always found himself softening when he was reminded of these two tiny details about his child. Even if Ellie didn’t truly understand why. It seemed the features she favored about herself were the ones that she shared with her father. Something Simon managed to find a bittersweetness in.

He’d been so hesitant to send her to school when she became the right age. To the point he started her on half days, to get her acclimated slowly, but admittedly more for himself. It was fine at first. She had the occasional bad day, but she always attributed it to loud noises or lots of stimuli. It was when she turned four that she started coming home and telling him about the occasional mean comment. It wasn’t too bad, in her words. But the day he was called to pick her up because she was brought into a hysterical meltdown, a combination of some kids teasing her and a substitute teacher’s rough handling of her emotions, Simon had just about lost it. If looks could kill, his eyes would’ve been the equivalent of an air strike. He’d been ready to tear the old woman’s head off, and he’d never been closer to kicking actual children into the sun than that moment.

The school had a habit of not helping when kids were bullied, and when Simon really looked at it, he realized the environment Ellie was always in. His apartment was cramped and dark, not to mention old. His downstairs neighbor was always yelling at his roommates, the upstairs one was a drunk, and the old lady across the hall never failed to make a comment when she caught Simon in the lift. The traffic was hell and the closest park needed a train to get to, since he didn’t like to drive. He had plenty of money saved, and when he asked Ellie if she would miss anything, her only answer was the birds that nested in one of the windows.

So, he found a small home, packed everything, and took Ellie out of Manchester. He liked the ability to add more security immediately. No longer relying on a lazy landlord and a chain lock. He could secure every window and door and install a proper security system. Ellie was most fond of the dogs she’d seen being walked in the neighborhood, as well as the large window seat her new room had. The only one who knew about the address change was Simon’s coworker, the only one with a spare key too. In case of an emergency. He’d waited a full month before enrolling his daughter in school again, and he honestly would’ve waited longer, had Ellie not complained about the cabin fever.

It was fairly close, but just a bit too far to walk to, hence why Simon took the train. The bus was also an option, but it was far too crowded for his liking when he’d seen the stop. He adjusted his mask when walking from the station to the school, the hand in his hoodie pocket held a small back of sweets. Something he grabbed for Ellie as a prize for going to her new school. He silently missed his balaclava. He would’ve worn it if Ellie didn’t remind him other kids would probably be scared of it, and he was intimidating enough on his own. As usual, he scanned the area as he approached. Counting every child and adult he could see. He slowed to a stop on the sidewalk, waiting patiently to see a head of blonde tresses tied in a bun with a white scrunchy, one with little ghosts on it. She’d begged for it when she saw it, and it was easy to pick out of a crowd. He relaxed when she came into sight, noting how she waved at a little brunette girl that ran away.

Ellie walked to him briskly. Simon zeroed in on a red ribbon tied loosely around her right arm in an uneven bow. “Hi daddy.” Ellie said softly as she reached him. “Hi, squeaker. How was your first day?” He asked. He bent to pick her up when she raised her arms. “Good. I didn’t talk to many kids, but there was this one girl who was really nice.” She explained, then held up her ribbon-decorated arm. “She gave me her hair bow, said it was a placeholder until she could make me a bracelet. Her name’s Maisie, but the others called her MayMay.” Simon hummed in acknowledgment, face softening as she described it with a smile. It’d been the first time another kid had made an effort to befriend her, something that brought Simon a lot of relief. “So, I assume you had fun then?” He asked.

Ellie nodded again. “She taught me Scottish words. Her dad’s Scottish, she said.” Simon listened and nodded. He turned, ready to head to the train station again. He only stopped when he felt the shiver up his spine, a sixth sense he developed when in the sights of a sniper. He even looked at the builds first, checking the roofs. It was only when he looked ahead of himself that he saw who was staring. A brunet stranger with blue eyes and a messy mohawk. Simon blinked as the man gazed at him, noting the little girl in his arms. He looked around at his sides. Maybe the stranger was looking past him? No, no he was certainly staring at him.

Simon felt Ellie tap him. “It’s okay, daddy. That’s MayMay, that man’s her dad.” She whispered. He looked at the man once more, seeing him now distracted by Maisie. He sighed slowly and looked at Ellie. “You want me to say hello, don’t you.” It was less a question, since he knew the answer, and more a statement. Reaffirmed by Ellie’s gentle nod. Simon let out a defeated sigh, and his daughter patted his shoulder in sympathy. She was well aware of her father’s introversion. Still, Simon walked up, though not too close. He could hear the little girl’s accent, mostly Scottish with a British twang of sorts. Maisie’s father let out a sigh and looked up, though clearly startled by Simon’s now closer proximity. A few seconds passed as the man took Simon’s form in, before he coughed and introduced himself, quickly followed by an awkward apology.

The man’s shoulders were tense, that was the first thing Simon noticed. He also noticed a scar on his chin, and along his right eye. And, a bit shamefully, he noted how tightly the man’s shirt hugged his well-built chest and arms. Simon wasn’t one to gawk but even he had to admit those biceps were impressive. He blinked, then held out his hand. “Simon.” He stated calmly. John relaxed and shook his hand. He looked ready to say something before Maisie cut him off, too caught up in her own excitement to remember manners. “Can Ellie come over to play?” She exclaimed. Ellie smiled at the enthusiasm and Simon could hear her stifled giggle.

John’s voice was gentle when he corrected his daughter, and Simon admired how Maisie immediately responded. Maisie asked again, and while Simon wouldn’t have any problem saying yes, he wasn’t going to agree without his daughter’s confirmation. He never liked the idea of forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to, if unnecessary. But she nodded when he looked down at her. He paused. The idea of letting his daughter go to a stranger’s house made anxiety pump into his veins, and while this man seemed nice, he didn’t want to give out his address. “ “I’m not too keen on her being at stranger’s houses.” He admitted. Honestly, he felt a pang of guilt when John’s daughter deflated. John seemed to as well, if only for a second, Simon caught the look akin to a dejected puppy. Really, the man had serious puppy eyes.

John bounced back quickly though, grinning once more with white teeth and a sparkle in his eye. …or maybe that was just the sun. Yeah, just the sun. “Well that’s alright. There’s a park near a shopping center nearby, Maisie goes there every weekend. If you have the time, maybe we could meet there instead. Let the girls play without havin’ to be at one of our houses.” The Scot suggested. Simon glanced at Ellie again, her nod was intense. He exhaled, she wanted to see the park anyway, better to do it with someone she was friends with. He remembered going to the park alone, it was not a fun experience. “That’ll do.” He answered, following the movement of John struggling to pull his phone out, and he was admittedly confused at first when it was held out to him.

Simon looked at the cracked screen protector as a new contact page stared back at him. John said something about working out the details. Simon bit back his apprehension and took the phone, adjusting Ellie. A silent code they developed, one of many, when he needed both his hands free for a moment. She secured herself around his neck and he let her hang off him so he could take off a glove. He tapped in his number and his name, all in lowercase. John’s grin was sunshine bright as he took the device back. Simon wondered if his cheeks hurt at this point while Ellie settled back on his arm. Maisie climbed over her father, something the man seemed unphased by, helping her adjust to be on his shoulders. “Alright then! That’s solved, just let me know when you get an opening in your schedule.” John said cheerfully. The longer he spoke, the more Simon could see this man spiritually being a dog. Probably a terrier of some kind. He was way too happy. Though, really, it was an endearing quality. Certainly more pleasant than the bitter old lady across the hall.

Simon had the faintest of smiles behind his mask as he jokingly asked the man about his own schedule, seeing him ready to leave. John chuckled and gently connected his fist to Simon’s shoulder. “I’ll save you a spot, sir.” He said. Fire radiated over the blond’s skin from where John had tapped him, and he felt the air suddenly vanish from his lungs, leaving him stunned. Even after John began to leave. “Bye-bye, Ellie!” Maisie shouted back, making the little girl wave back. Simon swallowed as the urge to high tail it back home filled his nerves. He pushed it down, not for the sake of seeming brave, but quite the opposite. He wasn’t going to feel that way again, he refused. Not so soon. But as he turned to leave, and he settled on the memory of a puppy-eyed gaze and bold grin, he was worried. Very worried.

"Bloody hell.” He whispered, hugging Ellie closer. The little girl rested her head on his shoulder, eyes shut. He let himself exhale a puff of anxious breath, feeling himself settle at the sight of her peaceful form. He’d be fine. They’d be fine.

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