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#also i deleted the work on ao3 because it was stressing me out sorry
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actually, no. you know what? i am so sick of this “marinette is just a friend” bs. okay. cool. adrien said she was just a friend a few times. whatever. it’s not that big of a deal and everyone in the mlb fandom like. hyperfixates on that??? idc if it’s a “just a joke” because it’s utterly ridiculous at this point. i have literally seen people go on heated rants about how stupid or clueless adrien was during the umbrella scene because he called mari just a friend. are you kidding me??? y’all are really going to take away that moment for him? he just made like his first ever friend in nino and when he called her a friend, he looked so excited because this boy has only ever had one friend before. of course he’s going to call mari just a friend because he just met her and the only time she’s actually spoken to him outside of the suit at this point is to yell at him like... y’all...
and this is not me hating on mari because i love her so so so much. i just hate how passionate and heated fans get about this. i mean... y’all... adrien didn’t even think mari liked him??? like, in puppeteer two, he is literally upset because he came to the conclusion that mari hates him. also, of course he’s not like in love with or crushing on her when she’s barely spoken actual sentences to him! again, not me hating on mari and her nerves because like i get it, it’s hard. and also this is like adrien’s first time interacting with people as peers, so 1. of course romance is not his main priority 2. he doesn’t understand social cues or situations very well At All which is made abundantly clear in the show 3. i don’t... i don’t think adrien knows what affection is??? i mean, he’s definitely learned some over the course of the show, but he’s used to a neglectful / abusive father, his stoic assistant, his bodyguard who doesn’t really talk like at all, chloé being chloé, and hoards of fans declaring that they’re in love with him, hanging all over him, acting like he’s a shiny thing rather than a person, etc... so like. how is adrien supposed to actually comprehend that mari likes him???
and okay no my last point: so so so sick of the double standard. i have seen countless people rant and rave and scream and shout about how stupid adrien is for not returning mari’s feelings or knowing he has a crush on her and then these same people will turn around and berate chat noir and say things like “gosh ladybug isn’t obligated to return his feelings:/” like... hELLO??? why is ladybug not obligated while adrien is??? it’s ridiculous and disgusting and i’m so so so tired of “just a friend” jokes on tumblr, in art, in fics, in youtube compilations... like... can’t we be normal about this? and i don’t mean normal as in “casually enjoy” i mean normal as in can we stop being so aggressive and harsh and hostile towards literal fourteen year olds my God they’re children they’re allowed to make mistakes and mess up and my God the way y’all talk about lila is disgusting, too like i hate her but i don’t want her tortured and killed??? and the way people characterize the classmates as physically and verbally assaulting mari because of lila??? like... my God they would never??? they would all honestly side with mari chameleon is a bad episode and is poorly written and everyone is out of character please use your critical thinking skills and understand that chat noir is not harassing ladybug anymore than mari may be harassing adrien (aka they are not harassing each other at all my God) and stop insulting and demonizing fourteen year olds so your otp can get together thanks
#i have. feelings.#sorry y'all#this may be harsh but i am so beyond sick of it#i've been going through the classmates tag on ao3 and filtered out all the s.alt fics for all the characters and the majority of the fics#i'm seeing are aggressive lila takedown fics or like unproperly tagged s.alt fics#where the classmates are still rude and aggressive and bully mari when even lila doesn't really bully mari that badly??? like yes it is#awful that she tried to get her expelled and lied a bit about her but lila has never been physical nor tried to kill mari and nor would any#of the classmates actually turn against her like. they may disagree with her or think she may be acting on her crush and yes lila did#threaten mari in the bathroom but like... what has she done since then? try to get her expelled and then... nothing. like. this is Not me#saying not to take bullying seriously but people take it to the extreme with lila and how she treats mari in fics and i am so so so sick of#it!!! i just want to read mlb classmate fics where they're all silly and being teenagers without mari being unreasonably and uncanonically#bullied and without the tags 'alya/adrien/classmate redemption' HELLO??? WHY DO THEY NEED TO BE REDEEMED??? THEY AREN'T VILLAINS??? THEY ARE#FOURTEEN??? as a rule of thumb i refuse to read fics with those tags like sorry but if you tag fics like that then you obviously don't know#the characters. i'm sorry if this sounds mean or harsh it's just exhausting trying to find fun or sweet or found family mlb fics because so#many of them are so negative and ooc and involve like extreme hatred towards fourteen year old fictional children... like... how do we not#see the problem with that??? like... am i overreacting??? please someone tell me they agree with me!!! i've been working on this really#stressful assignment that determines whether i graduate my future career and also costs three hundred dollars to take so i've been really#stressed and every time i try and take an mb fic break i end up more stressed because the fandom is so cruel to children ahhhhhhhh#okay i am. done. maybe i'll delete this later... i just need to see if someone agrees with me because i am. :))) on the verge of losing it#lol#mlb
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whalyrae · 1 year
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DANCE WITH ME - CHAPTER 5
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“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”
Summary : All your life, you thought you were a beta, a simple and boring beta. Until everything change. But now that you've presented yourself as an omega, how will you manage to live and hide it from your six friends and best friend, all alphas and all in the same pack? (a/n : I'm a shit for summary I'm so sorry-)
Genre : soulmate au (of course I'm a bitch for this), omegaverse, bangtan alphas au!, omega reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships
Status : In process
Word Count : 3k
Warnings : the usual one I guess, like smut, angst, fluff (yeah its a warning for some people ) mention of depression, abusive parents (physically and morally), violence and blood, PTSD, scars, self harm,...
Tag list : @ghostlyworld @kawaiikpoplover268 @scuzmunkie @iamkookiesforyou @00ihatesnaku @stellauniverse @akemiixx01
A/N : AAAH FINALLY ! My exams are finally over... Well tbh I'm not really happy with this chapter but if I listen to my inner voice I'll just delete all my works and never writing again so... Hope you'll like it anyway ! Let me know your impressions here or in my inbox ! And again thank you so much for all thoses likes and shares !! ♥
Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad
Chapter 4 // Chapter 6
☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾
Wooyoung and you were out of breath when you fell on the floor of the dance studio, lying next to him. You turned to each other with mutual grins.
“If we don't get the best grade with this,” you muttered after a few seconds. 
"You're taking the words out of my mouth!"
You laughed and straightened up to clap your hands. Wooyoung then turned around, his eyes shining. 
“Don't you agree with us Sannie? What did you think?”
It was with enthusiasm that Wooyoung just addressed his boyfriend and alpha, Choi San, student in the same school as both of you, but in second year. The omega thought of calling his boyfriend to have an external opinion on the choreography they had spent the week preparing. The choice of music helped a lot to make their imaginations work, the steps, and the combinations of these had naturally come to both of you.
The deadline was approaching and even if neither you nor he was stressed by the time, you still felt some form of anxiety over the level of performance and the quality of your choreography.
You were lucky (or unlucky, depending on the perspective) to get a preview of what Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok were up to, and you couldn't describe how you felt because these three idiots were the most talented and dammit attractive dancers you knew. 
You, too, turned to San, more nervous than your friend. It was the first time you met him in person. As you imagined, he was very impressive, very tall, and very charming. 
With his arms crossed against his chest, he nodded, a smile appearing on the corner of his lips. 
“Some of my graduating class and even senior year would be unable to do better! There is a very good chemistry between the two of you. You make a very good duo.”
You sighed with relief as Wooyoung jumped into his companion's arms. 
Yes, choosing Finesse by Bruno Mars and Cardi B had been a very good idea. 
“You know that in my eyes you will always be the best dancer in this school,” added San, hugging Wooyoung, “ah, no offense little y/n!”
“Don't worry,” you answered, laughing and waving your hand, “I'm far from being equal to anyone here in terms of talent,” you continued directly, seeing that your friend was going to intervene with your remark, but you didn’t let him the chance, “And by the way, I'm the same size as Wooyoung, I'm not small!”
You rolled your eyes at their laughs and grabbed your cell phone before lying on the floor again. You got a message from Jimin. He was in another room, busy rehearsing his solo choreography, and wanted to know when you'd be finished rehearsing to join you. Now that you think about it, it's probably been ages since you two spent time together like you used to when you were still in high school. 
“By the way Noona,” Wooyoung appeared above you, while you were answering your best friend's message, “have you made any progress on your choreography? Are you still sure of your choice?”
“Hm? I think you just want to know if I choose the music you suggested, am I right?” you asked, arching an eyebrow and chuckling when you saw his innocent expression, “yeah Wooyoung, I chose Sweet but Psycho, I even finished the choreography, I just need to rework it a little and adjust a few things!” 
“Really? I'll be curious to see it, can you show it to us?”
You turned to San, your cheeks flushed.
“Mingi is waiting for us Sannie! He is downstairs!” Wooyoung had just received a message, and was already grabbing his stuff, winking at you as you silently thanked him, “Next time!” He turned to you, “By the way Noona, we can give you a ride if you want!”
“Jimin is upstairs, we're planning to go home together, but thanks for offering!”
“Ah, Park Jimin, another talented monster,” San commented with a nod. 
You nodded with a groan and straightened up. You accepted the hand of the alpha, “Ah, thank you. It was a pleasure to meet you, San!”
“The pleasure is mutual little y/n,” he winked at you when he saw a pout appear on your face, “Wooyoung will give you my phone number, if you need anything don't hesitate.”
“I'll give it to you by text, be safe, Cardi B!”
You nodded, a little surprised, but smiled at Wooyoung's nickname as you watched them leave, hand in hand. You were happy to meet one of Wooyoung's partners finally. San was a very respectful and pleasant person. You quickly felt comfortable in his presence.
You heard voices outside the dance studio but didn't really pay attention to them, at this time of the day, most of the rooms were still occupied by students. What you didn't know though, was that those voices belonged to Jimin and Wooyoung, who had crossed paths. Jimin greeted the omega, not forgetting to introduce himself to his boyfriend. As usual, Jimin had worn a friendly smile, a cheerful and pleasant tone, as everyone knew him. 
However, when San and Wooyoung left him alone in the corridor, his smile disappeared, replaced by a neutral face. He walked into the dance hall, finding you with your back facing him. 
"Noona, it's me." 
You gasped as you heard the voice of your best friend, who just entered the room. You turned to him, your bag in hand, surprised he came so quickly. 
You frowned slightly. Jimin seemed... absent and frustrated. Had something gone wrong during his rehearsal?
“You’re okay?” you asked as you walked towards him, "Did something happen?”
“Ah! Hm... no, not at all! I just ran into Wooyoung and... Choi San? It just surprised me!”
He rubbed the back of his head, a tight smile on his face. You tilted your head to the side, confused by his reaction. 
“San is one of Wooyoung's alpha’s,” you explained as you turned on your heels to get your jacket, “I thought I told you he was in a pack with seven other people.”
Jimin nodded silently, which surprised you. Without a word, he walked over to you, and before you could open your mouth, you felt your friend's arms around your waist, clinging to you as he nuzzled his face into your neck. 
“J-Jimin you…”
You heard him mutter a few words that you didn't really understand. It felt like an eternity passed since your last embrace. It was true that you had been a little physically distant since you discovered you were an omega. You tried to avoid physical contact as subtly as possible, although you didn't always succeed. 
When you live with seven people with more than half of them have physical touch as a love language, it’s hard to always find a good excuse to avoid it. 
You suffered a lot because just like them, you had always liked these physical marks of affection they had towards you, and inversely, you liked to show them your affection towards them in this way. 
As always, your whole being was surrounded by that soft, protective warmth you only felt when they were the origin of it. This feeling was even more powerful when it came to Jimin, your best friend, the most important and precious person in your life.
You couldn't resist wrapping your arms around Jimin's chest, holding him close, and resting your head against his shoulder. 
You couldn't fight against it. This was where you felt the safest in the world. Were you felt at your place. In your best friend's arms. 
How you missed those moments. 
“Hey… Are you sure you're all right, Jimin?”
“You have his smell, I don't like it.”
You straightened your head slightly, surprised by these words. What was he talking about? 
“Who…”
“Choi San... I saw you when you took his hand to get up… and his wink…” he paused for a moment before sighing and looking into your eyes, “and… I noticed you were distant recently… you’ll not leaving us, aren’t you? You’ll not leave with them...?”
You had expected everything but this. Jimin always had a jealous and possessive side, he was the one who needed to give and receive affection the most. All this showed a great lack of self-confidence in the young man. 
When you were still at school, you heard that his parents had placed him, like you, in a public school reserved for alpha males. Unfortunately, he didn't fit the physical criteria for alphas his age. When most alpha teenagers were already tall and voice-muted, Jimin was short and puffy-faced. His voice hadn't really changed until he was seventeen. Of course, different as he was, although it was not his fault, he was bullied at school. 
Like you, dancing had been a refuge that had allowed him to keep his head above water. 
This episode of his life had left indelible marks on him. Especially since he had not really been able to benefit from psychological support from his family. His parents thought the harassment was nothing more than teenage squabbling.
They did not approve of his decision to join this dance school. Jimin had to be patient and persuasive to get their permission, against their will. They proclaimed that he would eventually realize that he had no future in this world and that he would come back to the right path or God knows what other nonsense they had come up with, he had stopped listening to them after a while anyway.
You knew the insecurities and lack of trust your best friend had in him. He always had this constant fear of losing and being abandoned by the people he loved. 
He and you were the same. You had similar schooling, your families came from the same rich environment, and had the same mentality. You had the same wounds, some of which were still open. 
So unsurprisingly, the second you heard his words, the surprise passed, and your gaze softened. You put your two hands on Jimin's cheeks and started caressing them. 
“Sorry,” he murmured with a sad pout, “I’m sorry I don't know why I…”
“Don't apologize,” you answered with a little smile, “it's all right…”
“No it’s not.., you don't understand,” he looked away, biting his lip nervously, “it's not all right at all… smelling his scent on you makes me... even though he's an alpha already bound,” he breathed deeply, as if he was trying to control himself, “it's like he's going to take you away from me.”
“Never.” You spoke softly as your thumb caresses his cheeks, “ Listen Jimin, nothing and no one can ever take me away from you,” you whispered, “and if... if his smell bothers you so much, replace it with your own.”
He looked up at you, his lips parted. You couldn’t resist looking down on them, biting yours nervously. Slowly, your eyes moved up to his eyes, your hands still on his soft cheeks. You were so close to him, you could feel his breath gently caressing your lips, making you shiver.
You felt him leaning closer to you, his chest now touching yours. Your lips were close, very close.
No… No, you couldn’t do that to him, nor to your friends, his partners. 
You stepped back slightly. You took a long breath and ran a hand through your hair. What were you doing? And what were those words you told him? 
It was that warmth again, that smell. Jimin's smell. There was this desire, this desire for him. You couldn’t control yourself. And it wasn't your hormones and your omega side this time, no. Maybe it was the distance you had put between you that amplified and rekindled the feelings you had once repressed when you were still a teenager. Your friendship has always been the most important, more than your feelings. 
What were you thinking? Jimin was just your friend, your best friend. And already bonded with other people. 
“Y/n you…” 
“Ah, excuse me, I’m just saying nonsense,” you lied and chuckled slightly, shaking your head, “this is ridiculous, isn't it? We'd better go, Jin and Hobi must be waiting for you!” 
“Don't say that,” he frowned, “this is not ridiculous, and… they're waiting for us. You and me.”
“Yeah, that's what I was saying, let's go!” 
°°°
A pout appeared on your face when you heard Wooyoung’s laugh through your phone. you could have sworn you heard another one. Probably Yeosang’s, Wooyoung omega’s partner. He quickly introduced him to you when you called him twenty minutes ago. 
After your… moment with Jimin, you both joined Hoseok and Jin who were waiting in their car to come home. You didn’t feel any weird mood between Jimin and you, for your greater relief. But you couldn’t forget what happened. 
“I don’t see what’s funny guys!” you told them in an annoyed tone, “What would have happened if I hadn’t stepped back?”
“A Kiss? A long and passionate kiss because you both want it since you know each other. A kiss turning into a hot make-out session and even maybe…” Wooyoung makes a pause, before whispering, “A torrid and desperate fuck. Oh, that made me think that I always wanted to do it in a risky place…”
You sighed loudly not listening to your friend anymore who was rambling. Even if the simple idea of you and Jimin doing any sexual things in a place like a dance studio, when you can get caught at any moment… 
You squeeze your thighs together and shook your head, your face was as red as a tomato.
“I… I can’t Woo’!” 
“And why? You like him, aren’t you? More than a friend I mean.”
You opened your mouth and then closed it. You passed your hand through your hair and stood up to sit on the ground, your back against your bed and your phone on your knees.
“First he’s my best friend.” You began, hearing both omegas sighing, but you ignored them. “Second, he’s taken. Taken with people who are very close friends… And third, I’m an omega and they don’t know anything about that, things could change between us and I don’t want it…”
“Okay…First, you didn’t answer directly to my question but… I think this is the best one I could have.” Wooyoung smirked. “Second, I don’t see where’s the problem. You also have a crush on them, aren’t you?” 
You frowned and stayed silent. You couldn’t deny that you liked every one of them. Really. They were all kind, and funny, you’ve never felt as safe as you do with them. And they were all hot as hell. 
“Listen, I wanted to tell you this sooner,” Wooyoung began with a serious and soft voice, “but all the symptoms you describe when you’re with them, it’s not only your omega’s genes.”
“Well, actually it is, a little,” Yeosang added, “but it only works if you are interested in the alphas. Only if you want them sentimentally, and, or physically, both works.”
“When you met San this afternoon, an alpha, when he took your hand, did you feel something?”
“You mean if I had this heat in my body? This feeling of safety, these butterflies in my stomach? If I wanted to kiss him and spend my life in his arms? Of course not! I only have this with… with Jimin and… and with them… Holy shit.”
You heard two laughs and grabbed a pillow to hide your face in. You let yourself fall to the floor with a loud and desperate whimper. 
Wooyoung didn’t tell you that he asked his boyfriend to come and see them during their dance practice for this specific purpose. He wanted to let you experience the difference between the feeling of being with someone you’re attracted to, and someone you’re not attracted to. Practice always was more effective than theory. 
“Listen, sweetie,” you heard the deep and soft voice of Yeosang after a few seconds, “Just trust your heart. We can’t know how hard it could be for you, that’s true. But if you really love them, if you don’t want to lose them, you need to be honest.”
“And if they don’t accept you as an omega, fuck them! You’ll come live with us! Yunho hyung will like you for sure!”
“I don’t think she needs to think about that, Love. Let’s stay positive, should we?” Yeosang sighs, making you chuckle. 
But Yeosang was right. And that’s why you felt so guilty. You knew you needed to be honest with the boys. Plus, with your avoidant behavior towards them, Jimin thought you planned to leave them, which was the last fucking thing you wanted. 
Well, for your feelings, everything was confusing until now… You began to understand, thanks to Wooyoung and Yeosang. But the omega part was… still so fucking complicated. Every time you thought about a way to tell, at least, just one of them, you saw your mother’s face again when she knew the truth. You could hear the disgust in her voice again. The fear of experiencing it again paralyzed you to do anything with them.
You heard your stomach growling and you sighed. A bowl of ramyeon first. Yeah, you needed to eat. 
°°°
And third, I’m an omega and they don’t know anything about that, things could change between us and I don’t want it.
Jungkook froze in front of your bedroom, his fist still on the door, ready to knock. He just wanted to show you something on his phone when he heard the end of your sentence.
He blinked quickly, and lean his head, confused.
“Noona… is an omega…?” 
“What… did you say, Jungkook?”
He gasped when he heard Yoongi’s voice behind him. Seeing the confused look on his younger’s face, Yoongi realized that he, too, had just learned this information. 
“Wait hyung, maybe I misunderstood…” Jungkook whispered, walking to him, “But I think I heard…”
“I think we need an emergency pack meeting, Bunny, and now.”
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endwersed · 2 months
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Tagged by the fabulous @dear-massacre 😘
How many works do you have on ao3?
21 - it would be a lot higher, but I purged all but one of my old Destiel fics back in 2017. They weren't very good, so I can't say I really regret it 🤷‍♀️
What's your total ao3 word count?
319,994
What fandoms do you write for?
Now, just Teen Wolf 🐺
Top five fics by kudos:
Find Your Fire - Reddie (IT)
Clue(less) - Reddie (IT)
Nah, He Didn't - Destiel (Supernatural)
Worst Enemy - Reddie (IT)
as dear as a brother - Sterek (TW)
Do you respond to comments?
Embarrassingly, it's very hit and miss... I want to! I love and cherish every single comment I ever get! But I find the process of replying to comments bizarrely stressful, so sometimes it takes me... a while. And that while might be, like, years. Sorry!!
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I genuinely don't have anything with an angsty ending posted; I need my boys to be happy too badly for that. I guess I could say maybe striking out - just because it's not finished yet, and where it is in the story right now is angsty af!
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
All of them have rom-com level happy endings lol. Maybe Clue(less) - it's a childhood friends-to-lovers soulmate AU, so it has all the sap that comes with those particular tropes wrapped up in there.
Do you get hate on fics?
I wouldn't call it hate, per se - but I guess my interpretation of Stiles is a bit harsher/more rough-edged than others I've seen, and some people don't vibe with that, so I get comments telling me they don't like Stiles in my story for XYZ reason.
To be clear - I also don't write Derek as a completely faultless, entirely perfect guy. I also have him do bad (arguably worse, in some fics) things. But for some reason, I don't ever really get the same kind of comments about him!
Do you write smut?
Like, almost exclusively at this point. It's like my brain can't come up with a story unless I'll get a chance to write them fucking nasty in it.
Craziest crossover:
None, they're not really my jam.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
omg yes! years ago! It was this Destiel HS AU I had posted on AO3 (since deleted because it was... not good) and someone posted it onto ff.net and claimed it was theirs. I can't remember if I ever was successful in getting it taken down.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
I don't think so!
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I have not.
All time favourite ship?
All time is so hard... I do probably have to say Sterek. I shipped them intensely back in 2012, and I ship them even more intensely now. So - yeah. Probably them.
What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Are we talking real WIP that I've actually made a meaningful dent in? Or just ideas I've put down to paper?
Because I have so many ideas, there isn't enough time to actually finish them all lol. But for fics I have actively started, I'm pretty confident I'll manage to muddle through to the end of all of them, even if it takes a little while.
What are your writing strengths?
Dialogue and smut, I think.
I tend to develop a scene around the dialogue - in that, it's the dialogue that will come to me first when I'm planning the outline, and I'll note it down for when I come around to writing the scene. Then it's mostly a case of refining that dialogue and building the scene with descriptions around it.
I also love smut as character study. It's not just about being horny for them. It's about being horny for their introspection, too.
What are your writing weaknesses?
I don't have the imagination to come up with some of the flowery prose I see and love from other people. I wish I did, but that's just not how my brain works unfortunately!
Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
I only really feel comfortable writing in languages I'm fluent in. For anything else, I think we all know Google Translate can't be trusted, so I just... avoid it.
First fandom you wrote in?
Harry Potter! Wolfstar all the way back on ff.net <3
Favorite fic you've written?
Oh god, this is hard. Let's go with a Teen Wolf fic, because they're the nearest and dearest to my heart right now.
I think I'd say feels so good inside. It was so much fun to write, and I just love loss of virginity fics so damn much.
-
Open tag to anyone who wants a go!
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alifletcher2012 · 1 year
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This Blog
Hello, hi, remember me?
I used to write. I think some of you out in the fandom might still remember some of my stories.
But I stopped.
There were lots of reasons for it.
Covid. Stress. Going back to work. Med changes stole my creativity. Writing began to feel like a burden.
But the biggest reason...someone irl found my stories on AO3. Someone I didn't want to find them, who I didn't feel safe to share my vulernabilities with.
See, I shared my username with a few specific people because I was so excited for the connection. And then my username got out to people I didn't want to find my words.
It hurt. A lot. I felt betrayed. Like my safe space wasn't safe anymore.
So I stopped. I left.
And I know I abandoned a lot of friends. I'm sorry.
But, I think I'm ready to come back now.
In the coming weeks, you'll see a lot of changes.
I will be removing a lot of my stories from AO3. Some I will repost under a new name, locked down so only AO3 accounts can access them. Others I will not. If you want to preserve them, feel free to download them. I'll also likely delete the versions on Tumblr as well.
I hope you all understand. And I hope to see you soon(ish) again with new words❤️❤️
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rinhaler · 2 months
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Hey, I wanted to ask about that plagiarism. I went on ao3 and commented under that chapter that this is a plagiarism. When I was doing that the work was already changed and tho the fragments that previously were nearly identical (basing on your screens) were gone, it was not hard to find other that were also similar, just formated differently.
The author of that work replied (harshly) not adressing any of the accusations, rather they got ironical and at the end asked me to leave their space. Like, the internet is public...anyway.
In my comment I added that it might get deleted and it did. The whole thread got.
I know that it was your work that got plagiarised but I got involved because the matter was simply infuriating from the perspective of a reader. I was thinking about going back and commenting again but if I will get deleted once again there is no point in pouring my energy into it.
I just feel that it's unfair to anyone who reads that ao3 author. They did something wrong but they keep resolving the matters behind the public's eyes as to not damage their image and narrative. Is it really okay? There is also no proof they did not plaiarise in other works and that they will not do it in the future.
Sorry for bringing it out again. I just wanted to share those thoughts and ask about yours.
Hi love thank you for contacting me. Obviously plagiarism is terrible and I'm really upset that this has happened again and my heart goes out to anyone else who's had their work stolen too. It's really stressful and unfair and it's even worse if the person in question is hostile or straight up denies their wrong doing.
I didn't read their entire series, obviously it's a huge multichap and I just don't have the time or energy to spend on doing something like that right now. So if there is more of my own work or anyone else's in that series I'd of course like to know about it.
The way it has resolved for me is a positive outcome. I'm really giving the benefit of the doubt that the rest of the writing is this particular authors work and they just had a lapse in judgement. As I said, I don't have the energy to read this entire story to check otherwise. If there's evidence of more plagiarism, I would like to see it so that I can address it once again.
But as it stands this instance is currently over. And I'm grateful it hasn't dragged out for ages like last time I had to deal with plagiarism.
I do appreciate wholeheartedly that people are willing to fight my corner and help me with these matters, to make sure the right thing comes to fruition. I will always be grateful for that because without that support it would be so much harder to get anywhere.
I'm only aware of the poster stealing from me, I've not seen or heard otherwise. And I honestly don't love drama or getting into huge arguments or public disputes, I don't have the mental capacity for it. I wholeheartedly just want to move on and forget about it for now. If things change and come to light that more of my work has been stolen, I'm prepared to fight for what's right again. But for now, I just want to forget about it.
We talked it out, she apologised profusely. The writing has been changed and the wattpad version has been removed entirely. So for now, and hopefully forever, the matter is closed 💕
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sophieswundergarten · 11 months
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3 and/or 18 for the fic writer ask game? I hope you are having a good day!
Hello, Moth!!! All the kindness going around today helped me gather enough confidence to actually answer some Asks. I'm sorry it took so long!
3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic Normally how it goes is I'll get an idea, and then I'll just sit on it for a few days considering different options and plot points I want to hit. Then, I'll line up some stuff that hits the spot I'm trying to feel for: music, canon scenes, other people's fics, or even just a couple general Tumblr posts.
The process is kind of touch and go from there, as sometimes if I'm writing a quick little request fic, I can most of the time knock it out in an afternoon. But, I also feel like a lot of my stuff is way too short, so I set a bar of at least two thousand words the majority of the time.
Anything bigger I either fixate on and can't get out of my head and work really hard on and stress over for, like, a week. Or I just. Pretend it doesn't exist. Because I feel like the idea's stupid. It's 50/50 if the thing ever gets finished from there.
18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles? Okay, so, I really struggle with titling things. Usually, (As you have seen) I will just label the file something vague, and then because AO3 requires a title I am forced to do something about it.
At this point, I either sit in agony and consider scrapping the entire project and just deleting the whole project, or something magically comes to me. Titles like "A Half-Empty Heart" and "What Goes Around Comes Around" were things that I was just really blessed with popping into my head as soon as I needed them, but as is evident from "Reynie Going Comatose Apology Fic Where it Actually Ends Happy", I often also totally blank
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thefanficwriterscraft · 4 months
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Loved this week’s new episode! I’m definitely guilty of putting short fics (<1k words) into a singular story instead of a series (though it’s all the same ship/universe). I’ve actually been struggling with the idea of continuing to do this or not but get caught up with 2 things:
1. The thought of having them ALL as individual stories on my page stresses me out from an organizational standpoint. And
2. I wish AO3 had a way to split a work, because I don’t want to lose the comments attached to each chapter/fic by deleting and reposting since I didn’t have the foresight to originally post them as separate entities. (Though with this option then you also run the risk of spamming everyone who’s subscribed to you on ao3).
And I guess also adding on to this and the ao3 improvements mentioned, I’d love if there was a way for an author to highlight their favorite works, because otherwise if you have an author who writes a lot of short works, they add up and things get buried 150 fics deep.
Sorry for the massive drop in the inbox 😅 This has been something on my mind for awhile and the episode just brought it all back. Thanks for all the work you put into the podcast!
Thank you so much, and our apologies for the delayed response as I (pebblysand) was on holidays. So glad you enjoyed the discussion!
Regarding your first point, I can't help/relate, because I think honestly, the opposite would stress me out haha! Having all of my one-shots bundled as one instead of individual stories would drive me nuts! I would feel that is disorganised 😅.
Having said that, I want to be clear that I do think it is legit to do this in some circumstances. For example, from 2015 to 2018, I wrote a bunch of three sentence stories in different fandoms, ships, etc. as a writing exercise. I mostly posted them on their own on tumblr, but ended up bundling them when I uploaded them to AO3 years later. I bundled up together in one fic all the ones that were for the same fandom (so there was one big fic for TGW, and one for silk), then created a series to link them together. The TGW "fic" had multiple ships so I created one chapter for each ship, which I tried to indicate as clearly as I could in the summary.
I think the same thing applies if you're writing multiple short-ish (less than 3k) one-shots in the same pairing/ship/universe. Like: if, say, you're writing post-war Dramione, you have a vision for that universe and all of your one-shots are coherent with that universe and with each other. But again, I do think it's important to consider the fact that it may cause people to rec your work less. Because they might like one story but not the others, and so instead of reccing one chapter, they might just rec nothing at all.
I think it depends on your comfort level for this. For me regarding my own series what comes in threes, I didn't care because a) I published these on AO3 years after I published them on tumblr, and it was more about archiving them than promoting the work, as these stories were very old and I wasn't writing in these fandoms anymore, and b) both of these were in fandoms where reccing isn't the main way people find fanfic. I've mentioned this on the pod before but there is a massive difference in the way people find fics in big fandoms that are too massive to search (tags, rec lists, bookmarks, etc.) and small fandoms where you can just refresh the front page each day and find stuff. TGW and silk are small enough that I knew anyone reading fanfiction for these would be trolling the front page, and thus see the fic as it was published and be able to decide for themselves if they wanted to take a look or not.
Regarding your second point though, I feel you! I haven't talked about it on the podcast but I've been going through a similar struggle of my own with my long work. Castles has three very clear "acts" that are around 100k each. I didn't anticipate this early on and posted all three acts in one fic, and am now very stressed/nervous that it's making this fic too long for people to read. I would love to be able to retroactively split it, but I also, like you, don't want to lose the comments. I really wish there was a way to do this! 😫
And to your third point, I very much agree. I don't have that problem as I mostly write longer pieces but yeah, I get you!
Thanks again for your kind words and for taking the time to write to us! It's amazing to know our little podcast isn't just going out and falling into the ether, and that people are listening!
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timelesslords-faq · 1 year
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FAQ
Where is ____ fic? Why can’t I see it anymore?
Because of reports of AI scraping AO3 works, I’ve locked down a lot of my fics. This means that you need to be logged into an AO3 account to view the fics.
If you’re logged in and you still can’t see it, I might’ve hidden it. Sometimes fics get too much attention or I really don’t like them anymore so I put them in time out (a private collection). They’re not deleted off the archive, but only I am able to view them. I have the option to restore them but may not. It just depends.
Why can’t I comment on some of your fics on AO3?
Some fics on there were magnets for comments that upset me. I turned those off, and then realized I was happier and less stressed out when most of the comments for my fics were off. I left the fics themselves up there because I still want people to be able to enjoy them, but if the comments are turned off it just means its easier for me to not have to think about that particular fic.
I tried to put one of your fics in a collection and you rejected it. Why?
People who maintain collections have the ability to hide works from public view and I don’t want someone else to have that ability over my fics.
Collections are designed for moderated events like big bangs etc., not necessarily personal collections of fics (that’s what the bookmark function is more designed for). So it gives collection owners a lot more privilege over the fics than they should have unless they are intending to use the collection for an event. I have seen authors have hugely popular fics get privated bc they allowed them into collections where the owners didn’t realize that their settings affected the visibility of the fic, which is why I always reject the request!
Why don’t you talk about PJO anymore? Did something big happen?
Nope! Just lost interest and was not enjoying my interactions within the fandom. There was no big dramatic event that made me leave. If anything, it was just a lot of small things over a long period of time that were making me unhappy. When I turned the comments off on most of my PJO fics, I realized I was a lot happier and less stressed out and that made me realize it was better for me to just not interact with the fandom anymore.
Why don't you answer asks about PJO?
90% of the questions I get are answered here, and whenever I answer one it spurs a bunch of people sending more asks with basically the same questions and it's just a mess. I just ask everyone to respect the fact that I don't really want to talk about it anymore.
Do you hate PJO now?
No. I’m still proud of the fics I wrote for PJO but I’m not interested in engaging with the fandom anymore for the above reasons.
Are you ever going to write for PJO again?
Carrie and I have some plans for NSWD that we hope to follow through on. That is the only writing I plan to do for the fandom again.
Why is your blog minors DNI?
I’m in my 20s and I write mature and explicit content. I also reblog mature and explicit content. Also I tend to find that minors are on a different vibe than I am (which there is nothing wrong with!) but it’s not the energy I’m trying to engage with on here. Ty for understanding <3
Why didn’t you answer my ask?
It’s possible that you committed one of the cardinal sins of the timelesslords ask box by sending an ask that includes:
your trauma, illnesses, or deep-rooted self worth issues
come-ons or sexual content
over-familiar playful rudeness
disagreements with my harmless subjective opinions
something PJO related
Or I just didn’t have time to answer. Sorry!
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dhr-ao3 · 1 year
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You're Losing Me
You're Losing Me https://ift.tt/SHpc3sy by worthlesswriter A silly one shot that I came up with the second I heard "You're Losing Me" by Taylor Swift and that I then wrote in a manic state just now! I actually started writing this a few days ago and then deleted everything and started again today. I have no idea what awaits you but uh, best of luck soldier? In case you don't read tags, take this time to throw out any and call canon traits of these characters. Also know that you will most likely not like Hermione in this one shot and that is okay (that was literally the point). I have no idea if this will hurt you but it hurt me to write. (I related to the song by miss blondie way too much so this one shot felt like a personal attack) No but for real, I have no recollection of what I wrote so if you could leave spark notes in the comments telling me wtf happened in this one shot that would be great. Thanks! Words: 5435, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: no beta we die like men, or in this like narcissa, Sorry Not Sorry, canon? never heard of her. throw her away, Inspired by Elizabeth Swann/Will Turner's Wedding Scene in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Fluff, and then hurt!, god I was so sad while writing this, you can all blame taylor swift, it was all her fault, Post-War, no but seriously I really didn't have a beta because I'm being so impulsive right now, it's quite literally 3 am for me right now, haha - Freeform, i'm not okay, but I am?, idk - Freeform, are we ever truly okay?, the answer is no, you're going to feel so bad for draco in this, I don't think you'll cry while reading this though, I actually don't remember the first half of this, this entire thing is a fever dream to me via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/z2yWQoi May 31, 2023 at 09:31AM
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fkevin073 · 1 year
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I know this may not help, but I’ve seen the drama and just felt like I had to say something. I’ve been reading your Aemond fics since pretty early on in You See Me In Hindsight. They’ve truly been things that brightened my day and gave me something to look forward to. There have multiple times where I had a stressful day but saw you updated and my mood improved. Fanfiction is meant to be fun, creative escapism and for me, your stories and characters have truly been that. The fact that you do it for free is admirable. I’m really sorry people are giving you shit because they don’t like aspects of where the story is going (tbh I think a lot of the complaints I see are just stupidity but I digress). I hope you don’t feel too hard on yourself, though I know that’s easier said than done. Just felt like I should share how I feel, since you’ve had nothing but a positive impact for me, and it seems unfair that the positivity you’ve given me and so many other readers is now leading to you getting hate. I hope you’re able to continue the story and continue to get joy out of writing it, because you deserve it. ❤️❤️ (also, not 100% sure how the ao3 system works but maybe limiting the comments for a bit could help? Whatever is sustainable for you and your mental health)
oh thank you!! that means so much!! I've decided to implement the moderator function for the comments... idk if that will work in the long term bc even that is kind of stressful to me. and I love reading people's comments! I can't speak for all fanfic writers, but seeing people engage (respectfully of course) with the comments is sooo heartwarming. I really live off of those. it's tough that a select few are kind of making it a not-so-fun experience anymore, but tbh I'm getting to the point where I'll just start blocking/deleting comments upfront. there's a lot of lovely guests on there, and I want to give them a chance to engage too, you know?
anyway, I suppose we'll see. but thank you so much for this!! too kind of you.
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Maybe it wasn’t written in the stars
Happy (belated) Holidays, @spoop-geist! You asked for “any kind of Danny angst” - I hope this qualifies.
Word count: 9642
CW: implied/referenced suicide
 Tucker accepted the call almost immediately, as usual. His room was dark, his face illuminated only by the light of the phone screen.
 “Danny, hey. You’re looking surprisingly happy.”
 “What, me?” Danny’s smile widened. “I don’t know what you mean.”
 “Really, though - this is the first time I’ve seen you really smile since you’ve been in the hospital. What’s the occasion?”
 Danny paused for effect, then said, “I told my parents.”
 “Oh, wow. That’s …”
 “You guys were right - if whatever’s making me sick is a ghost thing, they might be able to help. I didn’t want to risk being stuck here longer than I needed to be because I was too much of a coward to tell them.”
 “Nobody thought you were a coward, man. Telling them took a lot of courage.”
 “Yeah, I suppose.” Danny laughed awkwardly. “I actually waited until right before visiting hours were over, so that the hospital staff would make them leave afterward. I was afraid they’d need some time to cool down, you know.”
 “But I take it the conversation went well.”
 “What gave it away?” he asked, grinning. “Yes! Yes, it went well. Tucker, you have no idea the relief I’m feeling. I want to cry. I cried already. I’m just … it still doesn’t feel real.”
 “Congratulations? Is that the right mood?”  
 “I think that fits, yeah. Thanks.” Danny flopped back onto his pillow, careful not to pull on the tube connected to his oxygen mask. “It feels so good to be done with it.”
 “Have you told Sam?”
 “I’m going to as soon as I hang up.”
 “You called me first? She’ll love that.”
 Danny frowned. “I didn’t mean anything by it; you were just first in my recent contacts.”
 “Sure, but she’s your girlfriend.”
 “What? No she isn’t.”
 “She is a girl, yes? And you’re dating her?”
 “We went on a date. We’re not, like, officially a couple.”
 “So, what, you’re courting her?”
 “Yeah.” Tucker looked surprised. “Is that alright with you?”
 “I just don’t understand why you’re so old-fashioned about relationships. Have you been overshadowed by a dead Victorian boy or something?”
 “Cute, yeah, that must be it. Obviously I’m the one here who’s completely out of touch. You know, I don’t think the guy who thinks that two years is a generation is an authority on what is or isn’t old-fashioned.”
 “It can be, depending on the context, and also that’s irrelevant, and also I think you should call Sam.”
 “Okay, yes, I will.”
 “And, you know, take care of yourself. And let me know if you need anything and all that. I wanna be here for you.”
 “You’re always there for me, Tuck. And I will. Thanks.”
 “Anytime.”
 Danny hung up, found Sam’s name and hovered his finger over the “call” icon. She wouldn’t really be upset that he hadn’t called her first, right? He took a breath and tapped the button. A moment later, Sam’s face appeared, smiling. She’d taken her makeup off for the night, but Danny knew she probably wouldn’t be asleep for another couple of hours.
 “Danny!”
 “Hey.”
 “What’s up? Any news?”
 “No news about the, you know, but I do have good news of a more personal nature.”
 “Oh?”
 “I told my parents.”
 Her jaw dropped, just a little. “That you’re Danny Phantom?”
 “Yeah.”
 “And everything’s good?”
 “It really is. It was super emotional and admittedly I did say some stuff I wasn’t really planning on saying, and some of it was pretty mean, maybe justified but still mean, but they were totally understanding and apologetic - I mean, really, they apologized! They said they were wrong and they promised to change and that whole schtick. And it just felt -” his voice cracked slightly, and he suddenly felt his eyes stinging. He started blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “It felt really good, to hear them say all that. And to just have this off my shoulders.” No tears escaped his eyes, but he kept blinking to try to make the stinging go away. “Sorry.”
 “You’re allowed to cry, Danny. It’s okay. Besides, I’m goth. Crying is, like, our favourite emotion.”
 Danny chuckled. “I don’t think crying is an emotion.”
 “It is in some cultures.”
 “Okay.” He took a couple of deep breaths and checked his pulse oximeter - 91%, not too bad. “Well, yeah, that’s my news.”
 “That’s really great, Danny. I’m really happy for you. And proud. I know how big this was.”
 “Yeah. Yeah, it … it was nerve-wracking. But worth it.”
 “Was Jazz with you?”
 “Yeah, she’s been really leaning into the overprotective-big-sister role since she got back.” Danny cringed slightly as he remembered how she’d come into his hospital room for the first time and almost immediately started lecturing a nurse about the lack of natural sunlight Danny was getting. “I would have thought going to college might mellow her out, but she’s more the same than ever. Not that I’m complaining that she was with me when I talked to mom and dad. I don’t think I could have done it without someone I knew would have my back.”
 “You know I or Tucker could have been there, right? We wouldn’t have minded.”
 Oh, shit, should he have asked her to be there? Did she expect that because she was his quote-unquote girlfriend? “Well, it was kind of a family conversation.”
 “Right, totally fair. Have you told Tucker, by the way?”
 “Uh, yeah, I told him like a second ago, and then he made me hang up to tell you. He was afraid you’d be offended that I called him first.”
 “Ha! Probably because he would have been offended if you’d called him second.”
 Danny smiled. “Probably. I love him, but he is a tiny bit jealous sometimes.”
 “Do you remember that time …”
 “Ugh, no, I don’t, let’s not talk about it.”
 “Sure thing. So you told your parents, they were cool, was that the end of the conversation?”
 “They said they’re gonna set up their lab to try to figure out what’s wrong with me, working under the assumption that it has something to do with my ghost half. Not thrilled about the fact they’re probably going to need to take, you know, samples. But the alternative is worse, so.” He shrugged, then realized his shoulders weren’t in frame.
 “I’ll keep praying, too. With the combined powers of modern science and the Almighty, I’m sure you’ll be out of there in no time.”
 “Thanks.” There was a pause. He felt like he was supposed to say something else, but he didn’t know what.
 “So, it’s a good thing you called, because my grandma and I were planning to bake some cookies for you, but I wanted to ask if I’m allowed to bring homemade stuff into the hospital. Oh, and my grandma wanted me to let you know that she’s praying for you, too.”
 “Tell her thanks and I’m not sure about the food. I’ll ask the nurse next time they come in. Text me so I don’t forget.”
 “Will do.” There was a pause again. Danny wondered how to tell the difference between an awkward pause and a regular pause. “Did you have any other pressing news to share?”
 “I don’t think so. Things are pretty dull around here.”
 “So you’ve said. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, possibly with cookies.”
 “Sounds good.”
 “I love you.”
 “Love you too.”
 Sam disconnected, and the silence Danny was left in wasn’t really silent at all. The beeping of the heart monitor, the ticking of the wall clock, and the hiss of the oxygen tank were so much more noticeable when they were the only things to pay attention to. He thought, not for the first time since he’d been here, about the vacuum of space. No sound, just the gentle darkness enveloping him and the billions of stars to keep him company. They wouldn’t twinkle, they’d just be points of light, the photons having traveled uninterrupted for thousands of years just to reach his eyes. He wished he could see the stars now. He wished he could fall asleep every night and wake up every morning surrounded by stars. In a thousand lifetimes, he was sure he’d never get tired of the view.
 ***
 Jazz stepped into the cramped hospital room holding two water bottles.
 “I know you said soda,” she began, not even waiting for Danny to protest, “but that stuff has a lot of sodium, and I know I’m not a doctor, but you really need to stay hydrated, so I think you could stand to drink a water bottle now and then.” She held one of the bottles out, and he took it with as little hesitance as he could muster. It was cold, at least.
 “Sure, I can do that. If it’ll make you feel better.”
 “Well, I thought maybe you would do it for your own health, but I’ll take it.” Danny opened the bottle and took a few gulps as Jazz took a seat in the plastic chair beside his bed. “So, how are you feeling?”
 Danny rolled his eyes; it was at least the dozenth time she’d asked the exact same question in the past two weeks. It would be fine if she would accept “okay” as an answer, but she always wanted more detail.
 “About mom and dad, good but a little nervous. I’m glad they’re so accepting of Danny Phantom, but sometimes it feels like they care more about him than me, you know? It’s all they want to talk about.” Jazz nodded seriously, like she was being briefed on a military assignment. He almost wished he hadn’t said anything. “Bored, otherwise,” Danny continued with a shrug. He looked at the water bottle in his hand. “Slightly craving soda. But, you know, this is good, too.” He uncapped the bottle again and downed the rest. He knew if he waited until it was warm he just wouldn’t drink it.
 “Have you talked to mom and dad about how you feel?”
 “Well, no.”
 “They won’t change if they don’t know there’s a problem.”
 “I guess not. But I don’t want to start a fight, especially when it seems like everything is basically going well.”
 “I can understand that, but you deserve better than ‘basically going well.’ You deserve to be happy, Danny.”
 “Sure, but you don’t think there’s even a small chance that starting a fight about this would make me less happy in the long run?”
 “It doesn’t have to be a fight. Mom and dad still love you, even if they aren’t always the best at showing it. They want you to be happy.”
 Danny fiddled with the tube of his oxygen mask. “I know.” Of course he knew that. But he also knew that them loving him didn’t necessarily mean that he could get through to them. He’d thought he’d done that already, when they agreed to reconsider their all-ghosts-are-evil stance, but even the best-intentioned leopard could only change so many of its spots at once.
 “Well, I hope you figure something out that works for you. In the meantime, I can try to help with the boredom, but not for too long, unfortunately. I have some readings I need to do before tomorrow.”
 “Oh, I mean, you could go home if you need to do homework. I don’t want to distract you.” He didn’t want her to leave, of course, but he knew from experience this wasn’t the best environment for focusing on schoolwork, especially since she already had the added difficulty of not going to class because she was visiting him.
 Jazz smiled faintly. “I was thinking I could do it here, if you don’t mind just sitting in silence with me for a while. And, hey, do you have any homework?” Danny’s slight wince apparently answered the question for him. “So why don’t you work on your homework and I’ll work on mine? We can be accountability buddies.”
 “What’s that?”
 “What, accountability buddies? It’s when two or more people agree to do something together and keep each other accountable for doing what they set out to do. A lot of people have accountability buddies for exercising - maybe that’s where the term is from, I’m not sure - but it works just as well for studying.”
 “Leave it to you to take a thing that jocks do and make it a nerd thing.”
 It was Jazz’s turn to roll her eyes. “Danny, I don’t know if anyone has informed you, but you are, in fact, also a nerd. I know a lot of people who would say you’re a heck of a lot nerdier than I am, actually.”
 “I wasn’t …” He shook his head. “Whatever.”
 “Oh, wait, was that a compliment? If it was, thank you, but I didn’t come up with the idea of having a buddy to keep you accountable for schoolwork. Really, that’s basically what a study group is.”
 “Is it? I guess so. I’ve never been in a study group. Kinda thought they were just a plot device in movies and TV shows to get the cast together.”
 “Well, they can certainly fill that role, too, but they are real, and they can be pretty cool.”
 “You would think studying is cool.”
 Jazz frowned. “What makes you say that?”
 “That you think studying is cool?”
 “That you don’t. Where is this too-cool-for-school attitude coming from?”
 “It really doesn’t need to be that deep, Jazz. I was just teasing you. That’s a normal thing; it doesn’t mean I have some deep-seated mental issues.”
 “Oh, trust me when I say that we all have some deep-seated mental issues, and denying that fact never helped anyone. For example, I think maybe you’re not doing as well in school as you want to, and you also think that studying is for losers. Do you think you’re going to get better at school while thinking that?”
 “I never said that I think studying is for losers, and even if I did, how I do in school is based on, you know, the work I do, not how I feel about it.”
 “But the work that you do is a behaviour, and behaviours are caused by - and cause - thoughts and feelings. It’s all connected. So if you want to change your behaviour, one of the best things you can do is identify the thoughts that are causing it. That’s basically how cognitive behavioural therapy works.”
 “Ok, cool. And …?”
 “And, if you want help with that, I can print off some worksheets for you.”
 “Would that make you feel better?”
 “Will you promise to at least read them? Proper CBT is a little bit labour intensive, and it’s really not the same experience working with just a book and not a therapist, but I think it could be useful for you to learn some of the language and techniques, even without committing to the whole process. It becomes another tool in your toolkit, if nothing else.”
 “Another weapon in the arsenal against … bad mental health?”
 Jazz hesitated a second before smiling and saying, “Exactly.”
 “Then sure, I will do that, then. Who doesn’t love more weapons?”
 “Yes, that does make me feel better.”
 “Cool. Now, didn’t you say you had homework?”
 “I believe we both did, if I’m remembering correctly.”
 Danny glared ruefully at his backpack for a moment before he reached into it and pulled out a textbook and a binder. “Yeah, yeah, I’m doing it.”
 ***
 “Hey, sweetie.”
 Danny took out his headphones and sat up. “Hey, mom, long time no see.” He was joking, of course - she’d been here every day for the past month, except yesterday. But she frowned, and Danny wished he hadn’t said anything.
 “I’m sorry - I wanted to come visit yesterday, but -”
 “It’s okay, mom. I was just joking. You’re fine.” She smiled weakly, but her eyes still looked sad. Danny had a feeling his answering smile was not much more convincing. “So, what news?” She didn’t need to say anything - the way her face fell, losing even the shadow of happiness, was answer enough. But she spoke anyway.
 “We’ve … ruled out a lot of things. So, we are making progress.” Danny didn’t think that was the way she thought of it. “But we still don’t know …” anything useful, Danny filled in mentally.
 “You don’t know how to cure me.”
 “Sweetie, I’m so sorry, but we have to keep our … chins up. We’ll get through this together.” Had she been about to say ‘keep our spirits up’? Was she trying to make a pun, and then thought better of it, or did she not realize it would sound like a pun until she’d already started talking? He thought about asking, but he didn’t want to accidentally upset her again. He kept doing that. Obviously this whole situation was a bummer, but over the past couple of weeks, it seemed that people always got sadder when he spoke to them. As if it wasn’t bad enough that his health was a burden on everyone, apparently he had a talent for saying the wrong thing. He smiled again, trying to make it look more genuine.
 “I know we will. I know you and dad are kicking ass in the lab - you’re two of the smartest people I know. If anyone can do this, it’s you. I mean, it’s all of us, the Fentons, together. We don’t give up, right?” Why did that sound so unconvincing? His mom nodded.
 “Of course we don’t. Speaking of which, your father and I are still trying to convince the doctors that we can take care of you at home, but they’re still pretty nervous, given how …” She glanced at Danny’s oxygen tank. “… how quickly things might deteriorate if something did happen.” Danny nodded. He’d only had one scare since the one that had landed him in the hospital in the first place, but he was certainly grateful for the ability to summon a nurse so quickly with the push of a button.
 “I do get where they’re coming from, but also, it would be nice to go home.” He wondered what home would be like. Would they keep him in the lab, so they could run tests more easily? Would he be able to walk around the house? Would it feel like the nightmares where he was trapped down there, being experimented on? Or maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe he would be able to sleep in his bed, in his room, and everything would be almost normal except for the oxygen tank and the regular visits to the doctor.
 Danny shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I trust the doctors to make the best decision. But, thanks for trying. And, you know, for … everything.”
 She came to the side of the bed and crouched down, so her eyes were level with his, and she took his hands in hers. It was too close; Danny wanted to pull away. He didn’t know why. But he resisted the urge, and he met her gaze. “You know your father and I would do anything for you, Danny. And do it happily. We love you.”
 “I know, mom. I love you too, and dad. You guys are the real superheroes.” He smirked at that last part, and it wasn’t even faked. It was just such a corny thing to say, he almost laughed. Especially since it wasn’t true at all.
 “Aww, Danny.” She looked like she wanted to cry, and she leaned in for a hug, which Danny returned awkwardly, mostly because of the positioning, he told himself. “I love you so much,” she muttered into his shoulder. “You know that right?” She pulled back to look at his face again, and she stroked his hair. Danny smiled what he hoped was the right amount. “Your father and I love you, and we want nothing more than for you to be happy and healthy and safe.”
 “Mom, if you’re trying to apologize again for trying to hunt me …” She was shaking her head. “Okay, good.”
 She stood up, then leaned down again briefly to kiss the top of his head before going to sit in the chair against the wall. “So, how are other things? How’s school going? I hope your teachers are cutting you some slack.”
 “Eh, not really, but it’s fine. I mean, I have plenty of time to do homework, and no distractions, so I’m actually keeping up pretty well. Better than before, I think.” He frowned. “I hope that doesn’t reveal some kind of uncomfortable truth about me.”
 “I wonder if ...” she began, then she apparently thought about whether to say what she’d been thinking. A moment later, she said “You haven’t been ghost hunting, right? That must make a pretty big difference.”
 “Yeah, I haven’t, that’s true.” He wished he could, but his grasp of duplication just wasn’t at that level, and he couldn’t exactly practice, now. “It is okay out there, right? I mean, you and dad are trying to figure out what’s up with me; you can’t also be out ghost-hunting all the time. And you banned Sam and Tucker from ghost-hunting alone, so you don’t have a lot of help, besides the red huntress, I guess. I’d hate to think … I don’t know. That the town was descending into chaos or something because I’m not there.”
 “That’s sweet of you to worry. It’s also very in-character of you to feel like you’re holding all of Amity Park on your shoulders, but I can assure you that we’re managing to keep the chaos firmly at bay, even without you. It’s almost as if you don’t really need to push yourself to exhaustion. Like, maybe, you can actually relax and just be a teenager.”
 “Hm. That’s one theory, I suppose.” He said it with a straight face, but then he cracked a smile, and his mom did too, and he was starting to feel like this whole conversation thing was going the way it was supposed to. In a more wistful voice, he said, “Still, it would be nice to go outside. See the stars, feel the wind in my hair, that sort of thing.”
 “Well, when you get out of here, you’ll be able to do all that and also get your schoolwork done, since you won’t be out ghost-hunting until the sun rises anymore.”
 “No, definitely not.” Not unless it was really important.
 “Though, I’m curious about your grades … Do you feel mentally the same way you did before, like your mental capacity for doing schoolwork is the same, and your improvement is just because you have more time, or do you feel like your mental abilities are different now, so that the work feels easier? Does that make sense?”
 “Uh, yeah, I think so. I think my mental abilities are the same, and the work still feels pretty hard … I guess math is easier, just because I’ve had time to catch up and read and watch stuff online that explains the parts I didn’t understand, so now I have that solid foundation to build on the new stuff we’re learning. But I don’t think everything is easier in general. I think it’s just time. I suppose I am sleeping better, and that’s supposed to be a big deal for attention span and stuff, but I don’t think I’ve noticed a huge difference.”
 “And you haven’t been in ghost form at all since you’ve been in the hospital, right?”
 Oh, of course. This was about him being half ghost. Everything was, nowadays, wasn’t it? “No, I haven’t. How could I transform when I’m hooked up to a heart monitor? I think someone might notice the sudden lack of a pulse.”
 “Yes, I think that would be a cause for concern.” She said it with a joking tone and a half-smile, but Danny was having trouble matching the expression now. “And you don’t feel like staying in human form for this long has had any mental effects, deleterious or beneficial?”
 “I don’t think so.” His voice was flat.
 “Don’t you find that interesting?”
 “I guess. Can we talk about something else?”
 She looked disappointed. “Of course we can, if that’s what you want.”
 “It’s just -” Danny stopped. He knew he should say something. He wanted to, even.
 “What is it?”
 “I don’t … like it … that …” He looked down at her feet. This was so much harder than it needed to be.  “… it feels like you always want to talk about … my ghost half. I feel like every conversation always ends up there, and it makes me feel like you … I mean …” He was trying his hardest to do the whole ‘I-statements' thing, but gosh it was annoying. “It makes me feel … not … seen. Like you’re only seeing me as a half-ghost, now, instead of that being just one thing about me.”
 “Oh, sweetie.” She walked back over to the bed, knelt beside it, and gave him another awkward hug. “Baby, I’m sorry. I thought you would want to talk about it. I didn’t want you to think it was something I was afraid of or judging you for. I wanted it to just be a normal thing to talk about, like school or friends. I’m so sorry that I did the opposite.” She pulled away from the hug, but left her hands on his shoulders as she met his eyes. “I promise I don’t see you any differently, Danny.”
 Danny was very tempted to accept the apology and leave it there. But he didn’t think he’d be brave enough to broach the topic again, so whatever he wanted to say, he knew he’d better say it now. “But you do, though. I mean, I expected you to. I’m literally a ghost - that’s different. But when you ask me about ghost stuff, it’s never just … normal questions, like you would ask about school or friends. You always sound more like a scientist than a mom.” She looked hurt by that, and Danny immediately regretted his words. “I mean, I’m not trying to say you’re not being a good mom or anything like that, just … You do see me differently. You are a scientist, and I am a ghost, and that’s … I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
 His mom appeared to be thinking about what he’d said. She looked upset, but he didn’t know whether it was about-to-start-crying upset or about-to-start-lecturing upset. Finally, she just said, “I don’t understand.”
 “I mean … I don’t expect you to see me the same way, but I guess I don’t want you to treat me differently? Or, no, that’s not … I’m not saying I don’t want to talk about me being half ghost, because that is part of who I am and I do want to talk about it sometimes, but I’d rather, when we talked about it, that you would be more interested in, you know, me and how I’m feeling and stuff, instead of my … biology or psychology or whatever.”
 “Danny, I’m trying to understand, but I thought that’s what I was doing. I thought I was asking you about your feelings and experiences. I do care about you as my son, not some science experiment.” She was definitely looking closer to about-to-start-crying upset, now, and Danny had to look away.
 “Okay, well, sometimes it doesn’t feel that way, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just biased, but sometimes, a lot of the times, it feels more like you’re gathering data for a report instead of just talking to me.”
 “I want to do better, but I’m not sure how.”
 “Just … maybe let’s just stick to not talking about ghost stuff unless I bring it up first. Does that work?”
 She nodded. “I can do that.”
 “Thanks.”
 “I love you, Danny.”
 Danny leaned against her shoulder, and she responded by wrapping him up in her arms. The hug still felt awkward, but he didn’t really want to pull away.
 “I love you too, mom.”
   ***
 “I’m not sure I would’ve come back so quickly,” Valerie said. “It might be nice to get a vacation from all the high school bullshit.”
 “Yeah, I’ll be honest, I somehow managed to forget how much of an outcast I was, and having tubes stuck in my face hasn’t helped, if you can believe it.” Danny looked idly around the cafeteria. Nobody was openly staring at him, but he saw a few people throw glances his way. He shook his head and turned back to Valerie. “But trust me, being stuck in a hospital room is no vacation.” Still, he wished he’d at least tried to convince the school he needed to stay home a while longer. Maybe he could have pulled it off.
 Sam eyed the ambiguous meat that had slipped off Danny’s fork while he wasn’t paying attention. “You can’t tell me that the food wasn’t better, at least.”
 “The hospital mostly just had prepackaged stuff, so, I guess that was better, but I kinda like getting different foods every day, even if they suck. Variety is the spice of … food, I guess.”
 “I think spice is the spice of food.”
 Danny didn’t reply - he’d just noticed someone walking purposefully toward their table, and he groaned. Sam and Valerie followed his gaze, and Valerie muttered,
 “Not this again.”
 Danny shot a look at her, and then at Sam, who shrugged as if to say, ‘I don’t know, either.’ Danny wanted to ask Valerie what she meant, but obviously that would have to wait.
 “Fenton,” Wes began, a smile that could only be described as sarcastic plastered across his face, “it is so good to see you again. It’s been so quiet the past few weeks.”
 “Oh, has it? Where did you go?”
 “Oh, no, no I’ve been around. But it’s actually funny that you say that, because there is someone else who’s usually here who -”
 “Just spit it out,” Sam said. “The faster you’re done, the sooner I don’t have to be talking to you anymore.”
 Wes didn’t look at all phased, but of course he didn’t. If he was capable of being phased, he would have stopped bothering Danny and his friends years ago. Danny thought about telekinetically untying Wes’ shoelaces, but remembered that he had switched to slip-ons last semester precisely to avoid that.
 “Fine. Nobody has seen Phantom since Fenton here was in the hospital. That is,” he said quickly, sensing that everyone at the table was getting ready to cut him off again, “until last night.” Oh, right. Danny had been so excited to see the stars again, he hadn’t even thought about being stealthy. “Apparently he was spotted over a park by multiple people. Danny, you got home from the hospital yesterday, right?”
 “No, I’ve been here the whole time. I don’t know how you missed me.” Wes rolled his eyes. Sam smirked. Valerie was looking down at her food. She looked … uncomfortable. Embarrassed, maybe? What the heck had Wes said to her?
 “Well, I’m just saying,” slogan of assholes everywhere, Danny thought, “that it’s an interesting coincidence.” He turned to Valerie, who was still avoiding eye contact with everyone. “Don’t you think it’s interesting, Valerie?”
 Valerie’s expression went from awkward to pissed in no seconds flat. She glared at Wes, stabbing her fork in his direction as she spoke. “I think you need to back off. Nobody wants you here, nobody wants to talk to you, nobody gives a crap what you think. And, like you so nicely pointed out, Danny just got out of the hospital. You couldn’t leave him alone for twenty-four hours? Come on, man. Just leave.”
 Wes raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m -”
 “She said leave, dude,” Sam snapped. “That means now.” Hands still raised, Wes backed away from the table without saying another word. Danny mentally reached out to form a small ecto-shield under Wes’ foot, causing him to slip and fall onto his ass to the laughter of the nearby tables.
 Danny turned his attention back to Valerie, who was looking at the clock. They were about ten minutes into the period. “Hey, sorry about him,” Danny said. Valerie met his gaze, her expression somewhere between surprised and confused. “I wish I knew how to make him only harass me instead of everyone around me.”
 “Oh, it’s … it’s fine, Wes is Wes, it’s not your fault.”
 “He never, I don’t know, made you uncomfortable or anything, did he? I mean, more than just being his normal jerky self?”
 “No,” she said, very quickly.
 Danny shot a sideways glance at Sam, who had her eyes narrowed. She asked, “Are you okay? Do I need to kill Wes for you? I can make it happen, just say the word.”
 “No. No, guys, I’m fine. It’s nothing like that. I just hate the way he treats Danny.” She didn’t look angry anymore, though. She just looked distracted. Her eyes kept moving around the room. “I mean, it’s ridiculous right? A ghost being part human? Who ever heard of something like that?” Danny did not laugh nervously, nor did he exchange a look with Sam. What he did was nod, which was obviously the least suspicious thing to do. “And I mean, it’s not like he has any evidence. Just, you know. Coincidences.” She dropped her eyes to her food, again.
 “He claims to have coincidences,” Sam said. “But he has a pretty clear agenda. You can’t just trust everything he says.”
 “Right. Right, yeah. How would I know whether Phantom was actually seen last night, or any time over the past six weeks? All I have is his word.”
 Danny could see that Sam was about to say something else, but he spoke first.
 “Val?”
 She looked up. “Yeah?”
 He could feel his heart trying to escape his ribcage, and he considered whether to give himself more oxygen. “Why don’t we just finish lunch and forget about Wes for now. And maybe later … if you want to … talk …” He shrugged. Valerie was quiet for a minute - or maybe a couple of seconds - then she smiled faintly.
 “Can do. But, I don’t really need to talk. It’s okay.”
 “You’re sure?”
 “Yeah. I mean, what is there to talk about? Some dumb kid and his dumb theories? I already forgot what he was saying.”
 ***
 Danny awoke with a feeling of mild dread, as he usually did, and he did his best to dispel it by meditating, as he had recently started doing. He tried to just imagine himself floating through space. When his mind drifted, it was mostly to his parents. He wanted to believe they were making progress, but … he didn’t. After almost three months, they still seemed to be saying the same things, about how that last analysis had ruled certain things out, and how this new analysis would really give them something to work with, and so on. At least the doctors were honest about the fact that they didn’t know what to do.
 Eventually he opened his eyes, blinking against the sunlight. It was Sunday. He vaguely remembered that Sunday used to be a chill day to relax and do whatever he wanted. At some point it had become a day to catch up on all the school he’d been neglecting all week due to ghost-hunting. Danny hadn’t been doing much by way of ghost hunting, since he’d gotten home from the hospital. (He got winded easily, even in ghost form. That seemed unfair, that he needed oxygen even as a ghost. But he supposed it was the trade-off for having access to some of his ghost powers even as a human.) Somehow, though, he’d still managed to neglect his homework all week, and now he had a draft of an English essay to write in a day. So apparently it was never the ghost stuff - he was just terrible at school. He was going to fail and never get into university and -
 No, stop. Danny took a deep breath from his diaphragm. That was a cognitive distortion. Catastrophization or something? Overgeneralization? Either way, he had evidence it wasn’t true. Danny had been doing well this semester. He probably shouldn’t have waited so long to write this draft, but he did have his thesis and a few quotes picked out. He still had all day. He took a few more deep breaths before taking out his English binder and his laptop.
 Tucker came by in the afternoon with some brownies.
 “Is it good?” Tucker asked, excited.
 “It’s great,” Danny said between bites, “Did you make these?”
 “Yeah, it’s a new thing I’m trying. Turns out brownies are, like, really easy. And cake and cookies - you just mix a couple basic ingredients, throw in whatever else you want, and then cook, and now you have food.”
 “Convenient.”  
 “Right? I can’t believe I’m only just now discovering this. Can you imagine being ten years old and knowing that desert was never more than an hour away, if you wanted it?”
 “There might be a reason that knowledge was kept from us.”
 “Adults and their conspiracies. So, what have you been up to?”
 “Ugh.” Danny glanced at his laptop. “Right now, English essay.”
 “You make it sound so exciting.”
 “Well, it’s certainly got my heart rate up, since it needs to be done by tomorrow, for whatever that’s worth.”
 “What are you writing about?”
 “The Lord of the Flies as an indictment of toxic masculinity.”
 “Sam’s idea?”
 Danny made a face. “No. I can criticize society, too, you know.”
 “Sorry, sorry.”
 “Also, I’m a trans guy, so I feel like I’m pretty well within my wheelhouse, here.”
 “Fair point. So it kinda sounds like you are actually enjoying writing it.”
 “Eh, it’s not as interesting as I’m making it sound. It’s just finding quotes and then explaining how they show that the author believes such-and-such. Well, you know; you had English last semester.”
 “Yeah, I guess I don’t remember it as a rigorous intellectual exercise. Speaking of rigorous intellectual exercises, though, you remember the robot I was telling you about?”
 “The one you’re building? Sure.”  
 Tucker held up a finger, then fished his most recent project out of his bag and held it out for Danny to examine. Danny’s eyes widened the appropriate amount and Tucker grinned, satisfied, as Danny took it and turned it over. “That arm can grip everything from an egg to a bowling ball - the grip strength varies smoothly and it has a smart sensor that chooses the minimum effective strength. And it can choose whether to use the legs or the wheels - they’re tucked up underneath, there - based on the type of terrain, which it judges based on data from the gyroscope and the camera. Oh, do you wanna see the code?” Tucker took out his phone.
 “Uh, you can show it to me, but I don’t think I’ll understand much of it.”
 “I won’t get too detailed, I promise. I’m just really proud and I wanna show you what I did.”
 “You should be. This is totally cool.” He looked at the robot again. “I wish I could do stuff like this.”
 “What’s stopping you?”
 “A lack of the knowledge of how to do it, for one thing.”
 “So learn. What are you doing this summer?”
 Tucker had him there. “Not much.”
 “You should do a coding course. There are some really affordable, totally online ones that you can do from anywhere. I mean, there are some garbage ones, so do your research, but if you have even a little bit of interest, I absolutely recommend it. The future is written in code; if you can write code, you can write the future.”
 Danny laughed. “That’s a pretty good tagline.”
 “And it’s true, too.”
 “Okay, I’ll look into it.” He typed a note on his phone that read ‘coding course for summer?’ “And I believe you were going to regale me with the story of how you taught this thing to tell different types of ground apart.”
 ***
 Danny didn’t blink, and neither did Dr. Dufour. The doctor took a deep breath. Danny didn’t. Finally, the doctor said, “No. I’m not legally required to tell them.” Danny let out his breath.
 “Then I don’t want you to.”
 “Are you sure, Danny? I want you to really consider what the next few months are going to look like.”
 “That’s what I’m doing. I don’t want it to look like … everyone mourning me while I’m still here. I just want it to be normal.”
 “It might be easier for both you and them to find closure if you have more time to talk about and make peace with the situation.”
 “I know.” Danny pulled his knees up to his chest and leaned his forehead against them. “I know. Maybe later … but not right now.”
 ***
 “You can breathe, dad. I’m the one with the oxygen tank, remember?” Jack was still standing next to Danny, looking around, hands raised as if to grab some tool or press some button. But of course Danny had already adjusted his oxygen intake just like the nurse had shown him and Jack and Maddie how to do before Danny had been allowed to come home. Now his pulse oximeter was showing 93% - low for a normal person but pretty high for Danny. And Danny looked … well, a little bit paler and a little bit heavier than he had three months ago, but otherwise perfectly fine. Of course, he’d looked perfectly fine a few minutes ago, too, right before his blood oxygen had suddenly started dropping.
 “You’re sure you’re okay? Is there anything else I can do?”
 “I’m all good.”
 “Do I need to bring you to the hospital?”
 “No. Doctor Dufour says that I only need to come in outside of the tests and check-ups if something changes. This is … this is normal.” Danny looked so sad when he said that, it broke Jack’s heart. He just wanted Danny to be okay.
 “It’s not normal, son. I promise, it won’t always be like this. We’ll fix it.”
 Danny smiled a little. “I know you’re doing everything you can. The doctors are, too.”
 “You can’t give up hope, son. We can do this.”
 “Yeah, I know. I didn’t mean …” Danny, looking like he was lost in thought, turned to look out the window. “I just meant, this is normal for now. It’s nothing to worry about. That’s all.”
 “You’re right, I’m not worried. You’re one of the strongest people I know. You’ll get through this.” Jack bent down to squeeze Danny in a bear hug.
 “Dad, oxygen tubes.”
 Jack let go quickly. “Sorry.”
 “It’s ok.” He met Jack’s eyes and smiled. “I love you.”
 Jack caught his breath. It wasn’t something Danny said often, and hearing it brought happy tears to Jack’s eyes. “I love you too, son.”
 “Now, can we forget about this -” he gestured to his oxygen tank “- for a bit?”
 “Already out of my mind,” Jack said, and Danny tried to hide a smirk. He sat back down in Danny’s desk chair, which complained under his weight but held him just fine. “What were you talking about before? Creation disks?” Danny smiled again, much bigger this time.
 “Accretion disks, but I actually like ‘creation disks’ if you’re talking about the formation of stars. Or, it works for protoplanetary disks, too. But I was talking about quasars, which are kind of the opposite. You know how black holes form, right? Just as a quick summary, the fusion of light elements like helium releases energy …”
 Jack listened as intently as he could. He’d been disappointed at first when Danny had told him he wanted to talk about things other than ghosts and ghost hunting - it had been something they could easily bond over, and Jack didn’t understand why Danny wouldn’t want that. It had felt like a rejection, like he was saying he didn’t want to bond with him, or even that he didn’t want to be like him. But when Jack saw how excited Danny got talking about this space stuff, he could tell this was a good thing, even if he didn’t understand it.
 ***
 “ … not sure whether I should be making the posters out of something more durable, maybe laminating them. Obviously a lot of them are just going to get torn down, because, you know, people don’t like when the system that benefits them is called into question, so it might be kind of wasteful. On the other hand, I definitely don’t want them just getting wrecked if it rains or …” Sam stopped, realizing that Danny was somewhere else. It took him a few seconds to notice she wasn’t talking anymore.
 “What? Sorry, did you ask me something?” Sam frowned. “Shit, I’m sorry, I just didn’t sleep well, and -”
 “Danny.”
 He looked nervous. “Sorry.”
 “No, I’m not … Danny, are you okay?”
 “Yeah, just tired.”
 “Like you were ‘just tired’ every time your parents asked why you looked like shit after fighting a ghost?”
 “No. Just regular tired.”
 “You know you can talk to me.”
 “I know.”
 “What were you thinking about, just now?”
 “Nothing. I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Just … nothing.”
 He was obviously upset, and Sam had the feeling that he wanted to say something but was second-guessing himself. She didn’t know what to do about it, though. “Is there anything else you want to talk about? I was going on about my stuff for a while. What’s up in your world?”
 Danny shrugged. “Nothing interesting. And I like hearing you talk.” He smiled. “I love you.”
 “I think that’s the first time you’ve said that.”
 “What? I say it all the time.”
 “No, it was always ‘I love you too.’ This is the first time you said it first.”
 “Oh, well …” He looked so uncomfortable. Maybe she shouldn’t have pointed it out. “It’s true, though. I love you.”
 “I love you, too, Danny. All of you.”
 He laughed nervously. “What … what is that supposed to mean?”
 “It just means … you don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to. But if you do tell me … anything, it’ll be okay.”
 “I …” Sam could see the mental back-and-forth. There was something he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. “Do you promise not to get upset? I don’t mean mad at me, I mean … upset. In general.”
 Sam did not think she could promise not to have any kind of negative emotional response, but she also badly wanted to know whatever it was he was afraid to say. “Okay. I promise.”
 He took a deep breath, then another. He looked down at his pulse oximeter, and his eyes widened a little. It showed 89%. He took a few more deep breaths before he spoke. His eyes were firmly fixed on his sheets. “I’ve been wondering … what would happen … if I died.”
 Oh, yeah. She could see how someone might find that upsetting. Danny peeked up at her. She had no idea what he saw on her face.
 “I think my ghost half would still exist, or at least I don’t see why it wouldn’t, but would it still be partially human, or would I just be a full ghost, with all the full ghost powers? Would I feel like the same person? Would I have an obsession? Just stuff like that, you know. I’m not trying to be morbid or anything, but … that’s what’s been on my mind. I don’t want you to read too much into it, but you asked, so. Yeah.”
 She could read too much into it, if she wanted to. But Sam would be the last person to believe that there was anything inherently wrong with being morbid. If Danny wanted to speculate about his own death, more power to him. And besides, she’d been wondering a lot of the same things.
 “I appreciate you sharing that. And I promise I’m not upset.”
 Danny’s shoulders dropped as he let go of the tension in them. “Thank you.”
 “You’re not thinking about hurting yourself, right?”
 “No!” He looked disturbed that she had even asked. “No, of course not.”
 “I had to check. And you’re … okay? Generally?”
 “Yeah, I am. Things have been going really well, lately.” For a moment, his eyes were focused on something far away, again. Then he met her eyes and smiled, and she smiled back.
 ***
 When the temperature suddenly dropped in Wes’ bedroom, he knew exactly what it meant, even before he heard the familiar voice behind him.
 “Hey, Wes.”
 Wes spun around in his desk chair, trying to mentally chart a route from where he was sitting, past the ghost in the middle of the room, to his bed, where his small ecto-gun lay hidden under the pillow.
 “Calm down, I’m not here to fight you.” Phantom - Fenton - was floating just above the floor in a casual pose, his hands at his sides. Wes eyed him with open suspicion.
 “What do you want, Fenton?”
 Fenton smiled a little. “If you can believe it, I want to apologize.”
 Wes crossed his arms. “I can’t.”
 Fenton nodded. “That’s fair. But I’m going to do it, anyway.” He lowered himself gently so he was standing on the floor, and then a ring of blinding white light appeared around his waist. Wes hit the floor, covering his head with his arms in a vain attempt to protect himself from whatever this was. There was no heat, no noise, no shockwave. The light faded after a second and Wes heard Fenton chuckling. He looked up to see Fenton - Holy Shit. Fenton, looking as human as he’d ever looked, standing where Phantom had just been. “What’s wrong, Wes? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Fenton chuckled again.
 “You … you just … but … why?” Wes winced slightly at his incoherence.
 “Why am I finally admitting it after all this time?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”
 “Is this … the apology? You’re sorry for making everyone think I was crazy when I was right?”
 “No, I think I was very justified in keeping this secret. But I probably wasn’t justified in tormenting you with my powers. Constantly tripping you, stealing your homework -”
 “I knew it!” He could never tell any of his teachers that a ghost stole his homework, but what other explanation was there? And all those times he tripped over seemingly nothing … of course it had been Phantom. Wes had known, just as surely as he’d known that Phantom and Fenton were the same person, but it felt so good to have it finally confirmed. “Wait, did you pour water on my pants that one time to make it look like I peed?”
 Fenton burst into laughter. Wes glared. “Oh man, I forgot that one. That was brutal.” Fenton wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Yeah, I did. I’m sorry for that, too.”
 “You don’t look very sorry.”
 “I mean, it was funny. But -” He took a deep breath, then got a nervous look on his face and suddenly the white ring appeared again. Wes flinched and closed his eyes, then opened them to see Phantom standing there again. “Yes,” he said, looking more serious, now. “I am sorry. I never really tried talking to you. I just decided that, since you were trying to out me, you must be a bad person, and I was justified in messing with you however I wanted. But you’re probably not as bad a person as I think you are, and even if you are, that doesn’t make it ok for me to bully you like that.”
 “So … you’re saying you’ll stop?”
 Fenton smiled, but there was something about his eyes … it almost looked like he was about to start crying. Could ghosts cry? “Yeah. You don’t have to worry about me messing with you anymore.”
 “Are you going to tell everyone that I was right?”
 Phantom’s expression didn’t change. He just looked at Wes. After a few moments, he took a breath as if he was about to stay something, held it for a second, and then disappeared. Wes felt a soft rush of air and figured he was probably alone, again.
 “... What the Hell was that about?”
 ***
 “Hey, what’s up?” Danny’s voice was slightly muffled by what Jazz assumed was wind.
 “Hey, not much. Are you outside? I can’t hear you very well.”
 “Oh, sorry.” For a second there was just the sound of wind, then a static-y noise that made Jazz pull the phone away from her ear, then it was quiet. “Is this better?”
 “Yeah. I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”
 “No, I was just stargazing up on the roof. How are you? How are things?”
 “Things are good. I’m enjoying all my classes this quarter, great profs. I’m taking a really interesting one about the effects of the environment on health, so things like how poverty affects the immune system, all through the lens of neurology, of course. It’ll probably be one of the harder classes that I’ve taken, but it’s really exciting stuff. We don’t even have a textbook; it’s all based on really recent research that the prof is collecting on the course website. So that’s fun. What about you? How are things?”
 “Uhh … good, I guess. It’s close to finals, so, busy. No change in health.”
 “Well, hang in there. You’ll get through it.”
 “Thanks.”
 “I actually wanted to talk about school. Not trying to stress you out or anything, but I just learned about a new program Stanford is going to be offering that’s aimed toward future astronauts.”
 “Oh. Cool.”
 Well, that certainly wasn’t the reaction Jazz had expected. He usually got so excited about anything related to becoming an astronaut. “Do you want to hear about it?”
 “Yeah, sure.”
 Was he okay? Should she ask? “... right, so, it’s not a separate degree, but if you’re in the aeronautics and astronautics undergraduate program, there’s going to be a specific class you take each year, with some kind of capstone project at the end, like a thesis I guess, uhm, and then when you finish there’s a special designation you get, which, basically it will look really good for any grad school applications. I can send you a link if you want, there aren’t too many details yet but I thought you’d be interested to know for when you start applying to colleges.”
 “Uh, yeah, you can send that. I’ll take a look. Thanks.”
 She should say something. He might be annoyed now, but she didn’t want to regret it later when she found out something was really wrong and she could have helped. “Danny, are you okay?”
 “Yeah, fine. Aside from the obvious, I mean.”
 “You said there’s been no change?”
 “Yeah. Still sick, but getting by.”
 “It’s just, you sound sort of down. Not to be presumptuous, but I thought you’d be excited that there’s a program that can bring you closer to being an astronaut.”
 “Oh, yeah, well … it’s just, my grades, you know? I’m not sure about getting into Stanford, let alone a special program at Stanford.”
 “Oh!” Of course it was about that. He’d been struggling to reconcile his current grades with his future plans since freshman year. “Well, I can’t promise anything, but you know I’ll help you with your application, right? And there’s still time to get some extracurriculars in to round things out, especially since you’re not spending as much time with ghost hunting these days. And, actually, you’re kind of working with mom and dad in the lab, now, right? So you’re getting a head start on a lot of engineering stuff - that might give you a leg-up.”
 “Yeah, I guess so.”
 “I don’t mean to stress you out prematurely, but if you start thinking about your application now, I think you can have something really strong. Again, not making any promises, but I wouldn’t count yourself out just because you don’t have the highest grades. Lots of people have good grades, but the admissions officers will really care more about your experiences outside the classroom.”
 “Okay, cool. That’s … something to think about, then. Sorry, it’s getting late here, so …”
 “Right, right, I’ll let you go. It was good to talk to you.”
 “Yeah, you too. … I love you.”
 The line disconnected before Jazz could respond.
 ***
 Maddie read the note first. She found it lying on top of Danny’s uncharacteristically well-made bed. There was no addressee or signature.
     If things go according to plan, I’ll see you soon.  
     If not, know that I’m grateful to you for everything, and I’m sorry, and I love you.  
 ***
 Apparently, things didn’t go according to plan.
 ***
 “... reported it to the police, but it doesn’t feel like they’re doing enough.” Jack was trying not to raise his voice. His hand that wasn't holding the phone was clenched into a fist. “I get that they’re busy, but he’s my son, and he’s missing, and I can't just -”
“You don’t need to explain yourself; I understand.”
Jack sighed. “Thanks. So, do you think there’s anything you can do?”
“I regret that my powers as mayor are quite limited in this regard, but I can assure you that I will dedicate all of the resources at my disposal, both public and private, to finding Daniel. Nothing is more important to me than assuring his safety.”
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luz-introvertida · 2 years
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When did you stop loving me?
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Summary: After feeling more estranged from your husband, Din, than ever, you ask him a staggering question that prompts him to reveal why he’s been distant towards you.
Pairing: Din Djarin x gender neutral reader
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: nothing but pure angst & fluff 😈💯
A/N: This is a work that I first posted on my other account (@pedrocentric), which I deactivated a while ago, and it’s been up only on my AO3. Since it was deleted on here (obviously), I wanted to repost it again. Also, I’m kind of planning an angsty “what-if” sequel to this…. (P.S. forever thankful to Marisol for beta-reading this and helping me out 🥺)
The relationship had grown cold, something you always heard about when it came to love. How marriages had their dormant stages, how people separated in times like these when they couldn’t handle the loneliness or weren’t strong enough to admit to each other, or to themselves, that the love had vanished.
But the love hadn’t vanished, at least yours hadn’t. You couldn’t say the same for Din since you couldn’t tell what was going on inside his head, or at least not anymore. But you didn’t need to know his every thought to acknowledge that his love for you had changed. Whether drastically or slightly was your uncertainty.
You missed him. Mornings were your favorite. You missed the way he would wake you up every morning, pulling you closer to him and pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up your jaw, along your cheek until his lips met yours. You missed how he would chuckle against your cheek whenever you complained that his facial hair felt itchy against your skin, though you secretly loved it, and he knew that. You missed the way he would jokingly respond, “Good morning to you too” right after.
You missed the little things. How no matter what small problem you had compared to his, he always worried for you and listened, supporting you despite all the stress he was carrying on his back. How whenever you were out, any form of physical touch was crucial to him. Whether walking around in a marketplace or just out in a field on an early morning walk to watch the sunrise, there was always a hand on the small of your back or a hand gently holding your wrist.
There were times where he would reach his hand out for you to hold without looking back because he knew you would take it, and you would silently laugh to yourself. You loved his instinctively protective nature and how it made you feel safe. But, now you wondered to yourself if protecting you was even one of his top priorities anymore.
The longing you felt for your husband was bad enough to make you miss arguing with him, because at least in those times he would give you his full attention. He would look straight at you, his brown eyes still the warm and comforting ones you fell in love with, even if the expression he wore was one of anger. A hug on your part ended every single argument. You would slowly walk up to him when he would finish ranting, and he would sigh, closing his eyes because he knew what was coming and hated that it would work. You missed how he would always give in and wrap his arms around you, muttering the words, “I’m sorry” against your forehead.
But what you were not aware of was that Din felt just the same. He missed you just as strongly and longed for your touch to stop being merely a memory. From all the aspects of you that he loved dearly, your scent was the one that was engraved in his mind. It was something he always kept to himself to avoid making you feel uncomfortable, even though he knew you would probably just tease him about it rather than judge him. Nevertheless, it was his favorite aspect of you because it was one of those scents that he could easily identify and in times of disquietude, it was one he could remember to comfort himself.
He missed your laugh and how it would echo in the cockpit when he would intentionally fly recklessly just to hear it, because it never failed to make his chest flutter. He longed for your embrace, how you would wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your head against his back, his thumbs caressing your arms as he would stand still, smiling to himself and relishing the tenderness.
He missed your kisses, especially the ones you gave him before he set off to his missions. They always lingered on his lips, making him feel protected and fueling him to be stronger, more focused. The price over his bounty’s heads was an encouragement, but his determination was always set on coming home to you.
Now you slept separately. Months of sleeping apart felt like years for the two of you. You slept in the narrow cot, cold and alone, while he slept uncomfortably up in the cockpit on the pilot’s seat, feet propped up on the dashboard.
Even though Din’s body ached daily due to his sleeping position, he preferred the pain over any type of confrontation. In secret, he would come down from the cockpit in the middle of the night to pretend to get water. He would only come down to see you, to admire you while you slept, and in doing so he would feel ashamed. He would denigrate himself and the word coward would ring in his head. He just couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes and speak to you. In fact, it had been weeks since the two of you had made any eye contact.
You used to be inseparable, committed to each other, and even more so after you married. You felt that the strong devotion Din once had for you had left, that he wouldn’t care if you were to walk out right here right now without a goodbye.
-
You sat at the end of the cot, waiting for Din to come back from his latest mission. He never took this long; usually it took him a mere three hours, which led you to worry. Your mind was clouded with a variety of scenarios of what could have happened to him. You felt your chest tightening, eyes brimming with tears, until you heard the loud sound of the Razor Crest’s ramp lowering.
You were relieved when Din walked in as the ramp rose behind him, but the feeling quickly left when you observed him more closely. He had a limp in his step. It was normal for Din to have some minor injuries; however, his body language said it all. The mission was not a success.
He set his weapons down slowly with control, though his shoulders were stiff. He wasn’t going to be able to take his armor off on his own and the instinct of a spouse automatically kicked in. You had to help him, but you were hesitant. It had been a long time since you had helped him take his armor off. Recently, he didn’t allow you near him, and you had grown accustomed to his rejections, but that wasn’t going to stop you.
“Do you need help?” you spoke up. It came out weaker than you pictured in your head. You knew what his answer was going to be. Nonetheless, you had hoped that this time he would open up.
“No,” Din muttered, taking his gloves off and then moving on to his shoulder plates. He bit down on his bottom lip, trying his hardest to not make a sound that would indicate any sign of pain or difficulty in what he was doing. He did need your help, but he wasn’t going to give in.
His mission went terrible. His bounty had pushed him off an elevated location and it was too late for Din to run after them. They had taken the speeder bike Peli Motto lent him and left him out in the middle of nowhere on Tatooine, leaving him no choice but to walk back to the Razor Crest in defeat. Almost all his missions had been unsuccessful recently for the sole reason that you consumed his mind. He couldn’t focus anymore. During combat, he would think about how things used to be, even going as far as to daydream about you.
You let out an exasperated sigh. The frustration you carried over the state of your relationship had been drawn out for too long. You were growing tired, and patience was not on your side today. It wasn’t on Din’s side today either.
Din picked up on the attitude behind your sigh, and he wasn’t having it. He stopped stripping his armor and looked up, staring at the wall in front of him in annoyance. “What?”
Your stomach fell. He was not in a good mood and the last thing you wanted to do was argue. You wanted to avoid making the conflict between you any bigger, so you chose to stay quiet. Din hated when you would do this, how he would ask you something and you would intentionally ignore him.
He looked slightly behind him, subconsciously clenching his jaw. “Do you have something to say?”
“Nothing at all,” you retorted. You were letting the bitterness get the best of you and you were tempted to say just about anything to him, but you held back. It was taking all your strength on staying voiceless in your sentiments.
Din turned around to face you and even though he had his helmet on, you knew he was looking at you right in the eyes behind his visor. If you weren’t so lonely and deprived of his love, you wouldn’t have been feeling the small amount of glee you were feeling at that moment. Your heartbeat sped up as his gaze was on you, but soon after that it went still when he said, “It’s obvious you do, and I’d like to hear it.” You recognized that tone; it was the tone he used that began all your arguments.
It was silent. The only sound you heard was the rhythmic pounding of your heart in your ear. The tension was unbearable. This was the moment you were waiting for. Now that he was willing to listen to you and give you his attention, you felt it was time to confront him.
“Fine” you spat out, a lump in your throat already forming. You swallowed it before taking a deep and shaky breath.
“When did you stop loving me?”
The words kept replaying in Din’s mind that he didn’t notice he hadn’t yet responded to your question. Well, how could he, considering the mood he was in? Your words aggravated him inadvertently, especially after walking miles and miles back under the hot Tatooine sun.
“What?” he managed to say curtly.
“Answer the question.”
He sighed wearily, “What are you saying?”
His lack of empathy and understanding was only a catalyst to your frustration. “Just answer the question!” you didn’t mean to raise your voice, for desperation to pour out in each word. A part of you wanted to end this right here, to forget everything you said and keep on living a marriage with someone who was soon to become a stranger.
His silence and gaze were killing you. You feared his answer to your question was the opposite of what you longed to hear.
Your voice cracked as you asked the question once again, “Din, when did you stop loving me?”
His vexation faded away. Hearing his name made his chest tighten. He was stunned. He felt his heart wanting to beat out of his chest, and his mouth was dry, unable to form any words. He knew why you were asking him this. You were confronting him, and he didn’t know if he was strong enough for this. He knew you; he knew that you were holding back tears, he could see your distress and he was angry. Angry at himself for causing the person he unconditionally loved to feel this way, to feel like they weren’t loved.
You could hear his breathing get heavier as the modulation of his voice made it more evident.
Din’s voice fell into a whisper. “What are you… Cyare…” he swallowed, “I haven’t stopped loving you.”
“You haven’t called me that in a very long time.”
Din fell silent again. He didn’t know how to respond because you were calling him out, rightfully so.
You were slightly reassured hearing what he used to call you, but you were still uncertain as to why he treated you this way. Why didn’t he sleep with you anymore? Why didn’t he kiss you or hold you anymore? Why didn’t he look at you anymore? Why would he reject you if he still loved you?
You recovered, regaining the strength in your voice. And projecting it louder, “If you really haven’t stopped loving me, then why are you being this way?”
Din stayed quiet for a while staring at you, both his arms at his side while his right hand was balled into a loose fist as he slightly shook it, a nervous habit you noticed he had over the years.
His silence broke you down once again, and the little strength you had gathered had abandoned you. Your voice weakened. “Please, just answer me.”
Din couldn’t bear to hear you like this, to see you like this. Images of your smile flashed in his mind as he stared at the love of his life, now small and broken.
Your words, your gaze, it pushed him to turn his back on you again. He didn’t want you to visibly see the conflict within him, what he had been bottling up and how the position he was in was causing his hands to tremble and his breath to shorten.
You had your moment to question him. Now it was his to explain what made him change. You had to know what had pushed him away from you. You feared that you were the cause for his frigidness, and you wouldn’t be able to live peacefully if you were.
“That day,” he mustered the courage to say. He was so immensely anxious that he was deprived of any sensation, and it felt as if something else, something beyond him, had extracted the words from him. He squeezed his eyes, desiring to be anywhere else and praying for his hands to stop shaking terribly.
“What?” your small voice asked, laced with confusion, reminding him how gentle you would speak to him at night, bringing him solace after a long day.
Din turned around to see the confused expression depicted on your face and it ignited his memory of how much he adored kissing the space between your eyebrows when you would look at him that way; how he always had an intense desire to shower you with kisses when your lips would form into a small pout and how when he would act on it, your tight grip on his arms and laugh in between your numerous, “Din, stop!” would make him grin from ear to ear.
But he shook it away. Now is not the time, he thought to himself. He balled his hands into fists, hoping all the tension he was feeling throughout his body would manifest itself there.
“A year ago. When you shouldn’t have followed me.” He held back tears, putting up a barrier to appear stronger than how he was feeling.
Din watched as the puzzlement on your face slowly receded. You knew the day he was referring to. It was practically immersed in your head.
“It was my hardest mission, and you saw all of it.”
Much like today, Din hadn’t come back from the mission and night was approaching, leaving you tremendously worried that something may have happened to him. You were thankful Din had shared details of his mission to you the day before, and he did so in order to reassure you, precisely telling you the location to let you know it wasn’t far.
Din always made sure to separate you and his job, to keep you far away from any kind of danger, so his world came crashing down the second he spotted you from afar. Fear was all he saw in your eyes, and fear was what you primarily felt as you stared at him and the scene around him. It was entirely different knowing about his job than seeing it right before you. What you had witnessed was ever so much for you to handle that you had opted to ignore Din calling your name while you ran away. In that split second, it was unfathomable to think how someone who held an abundant amount of love and care for you could effortlessly end a life.
You stared down at your lap, swallowing and lacing your hands together while it recapitulated in your head. You had buried any recollection of that day deep within your mind and hadn’t thought of it ever since because it only brought you pain, though Din thought of it every day.
“And you-“ he sighed shakily. The barrier he had built up had been completely torn down and he began to choke up. “You didn’t look at me for weeks... Any time I’d try to touch you, you’d pull away.”
His words brought you back to that day, how he found you sitting outside of the Razor Crest with dazed eyes and how you stood up quickly at the glimpse of him. How he had approached you slowly, his hands reaching out to comfort you, but the response he got was a quiet “No.” as you took a step back with a hand right in front of you, beckoning him to stay where he was. You remembered it so vividly now.
“I felt like you hated me. That you were disgusted by me...” the knot in his throat quieting his words, “scared of me.”
You look up to find his gaze locked on yours. “Din, why would you think that-“
He interrupted you, wanting to use the scant amount of persistence he had to tell you the reason for his behavior, “I thought that if I distanced myself from you, you would feel safe.” He paused, as his next words were the basis for his restless nights and failed missions, “safe from me.”
He stared at you, waiting for you to say something, anything, as silence engulfed the two of you. You could almost see the saddened eyes of the man you so adored behind his visor. The sight of him was tempting you to run to him and provide all the comfort he needed, and he wanted exactly that. He longed for your gentle touch that invariably provided him ample strength.
Likewise, Din thought of rushing over to you and bestowing all the love he had for you as he looked at you. He wanted to wipe the tears that were falling down your cheeks and kiss your lids as he would whenever you would cry, take the hand that now covered your mouth, and kiss your palm.
Your fear turned out to be a reality. You were the reason for his frigidness, for his lack of affection. The fear you felt after that dreadful day dissipated quickly, but it was too late. Din had started being distant the very next day. Shame dawned on you this very moment and you had to let him know that he was loved.
You spoke up in a hushed tone, unable to speak loudly, “Din, you are my safety.”
Din’s breath stiffened at your words. It was what you said when you first confessed your love for him under the moonlight which perfectly exhibited your beauty and had Din contemplating on retiring and immersing himself into a life of loving you. Emotionally, he felt everything falling to pieces at the realization and at the relief that you still, despite what you witnessed, loved him. He held his hand up, finger pointed, as if he were going to say something to you, but dropped it in defeat, shaking his head and looking down.
His muffled crying urged you to stand up and slowly walk over to him. You couldn’t stand to see him this way.
Din ceased his crying, feeling your presence right in front of him, and looked up. His chest constricted at the closed distance between the both of you. You held your hands up on either side of his helmet and he immediately knew what you wanted to do. He stared at your pleading eyes and glanced down at your lips when you whispered, “Can I?”
His heartbeat sped up, face flushing and for a split second, he felt that the world around him was nothing, that only you and him were the inhabitants of it. His trembling hands took yours and placed them on his helmet, your hands touching the cold beskar. His hands were warm, yet his touch induced goosebumps all over your skin as they wrapped around your wrists and steadily dropped down to your forearms until they were at his sides again. His right hand displayed its subtle habit once more.
You lifted the helmet off and met his tired, teary brown eyes that used to gleam every time they looked at you, and he met your credulous wide ones that he cherished ever since he met you. The loud clanking of the helmet falling on the floor next to you did not make either of you look away. He studied every part of your face, as did you. Both of you had forgotten what it was like to be this close, easily within reach of each other, close enough to hear every quiet breath that escaped your mouths.
Every hair on your body stood up as his eyes stayed on yours, whispering words that were sacred to him, words that were for you alone, “When I said those vows, I meant every word, and I still do. I promised to love you, and I still do.”
You nodded, knowing his words were genuine, but tears welled up in your eyes and you looked down, indignity seizing you. You were revolted by yourself for the way you pushed him away and for feeling you couldn’t trust him when every time he would come back from his missions, all he craved was your affection, and he did so to feel loved, to feel grounded and protected, to put whatever he did that day behind him, to be held by you and feel at home by your familiar scent.
Din gently and carefully cupped your cheeks, bringing your gaze back to him. “Cyare…” he murmured. His gentle touch had sent you into a whirlwind and you couldn’t help but swoon, lips slightly parting with an intense inclination to kiss him.
His unpleasant habit of doubting himself made him fear that deep down, you were still scared of him, despite confirming to him you weren’t. His eyes were pooled with dubiety as he asked you self-consciously, “You know I will never hurt you, right?”
“Of course,” you quickly answered, wanting him to know that you had all the trust in the world for him. “Din… I’m so sorry” you exhaled shakily.
He hushed you to try and subdue the shame you carried heavily in your heart, and you felt him closer than ever. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, swallowing nervously at the thought of what he desired to do at this moment. Both of your hearts going still at the silent closeness.
His hands moved from your cheeks to the back of your neck, gently gripping it as his thumbs stroked the ends of your jaw. Soon your hands found their way around his wrists. With eyes closed and noses lightly grazing, he initiated the kiss.
It was reluctant at first; lips not fully pressed against yours from hesitation, and you knew why. You were not going to allow him to think you didn’t fully trust him or that he had to earn your love back, so you deepened the kiss. After the moment passed, he gave it his all, as did you.
The kiss was exceedingly sincere and desperately passionate, with noses smushed and occasional sighs against lips, yet it was tender. It was euphoric, the intimacy of it making the two of you yearn to remain in this moment for eternity. The kiss mended all the pain felt in those past months and revealed that nothing could come between the pure and abundant connection, which only grew and grew as more time passed, that you shared with him. As your lips slowly parted, you nuzzled his nose with yours and felt him smile against your lips. You quietly laughed when he playfully nudged back.
Din rested his forehead against yours. Both of you relished the loud fondness that beat in your hearts, basking in the revival of a new, improved, and undoubtedly vigorous love.
He pulled away and looked at you, his lips forming into a small smile as he admired you while you remained captivated by the moment. Though your eyes remained closed and the kiss echoed in your mind, he knew you were listening, and with all the endearment he had locked away solely for you, he whispered, “We are one.”
Your eyes flew open and the grip you had around his wrists lightly tightened. He pressed a quick and delicate kiss on your trembling lips, and it only magnified your emotions. He cupped your cheeks again and swiped the tears that ran down your cheekbones with his thumbs. His brows furrowed subtly as the smile on his lips left and his expression suddenly turned serious. He never wanted you to doubt his love ever again, to ask such a question like “When did you stop loving me?”
He poured all his devotion into his whisper of “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”
His heartbeat quickened as you broke out into the incandescent smile that always made him feel a surge of joy, and you were at a loss for words that all you could do was breathe his name. It felt like he was seeing you for the first time, feeling exactly what he felt the moment he spotted you in the markets of Tatooine, and he smiled softly at you, breathing your name back.
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mooshua · 4 years
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hi uh it’s mooshua (aurora, moosh, whatever you want to call me). I’m so sorry about my sudden leave and everything and worrying some of you. that was really uncool of me to do and I really am so regretful for that. honestly I’m kinda embarrassed right now. explaining myself is rather difficult because, I won’t lie, I’ve been having feelings of inadequacy towards both myself and the works I put out. lol so I’m kind of having a hard time articulating my emotions because my mind is all over the place and I’m literally sweating as I type this out.
long story short: I got burnt out, started hating my writing with all my being, accumulated some Not So Nice messages, and then just did not want to be perceived anymore.
the long story: like I said above, I’ve been having Conflicting Feelings with regards to what I have been writing. anytime I read what I wrote I would just feel my gut twist and turn like I was going to throw up because I WAS SO EMBARRASSED. nothing about it was... up to my standard? nothing flowed right, I could point out a billion mistakes, and I wasn’t laughing like I used to. and it wasn’t just feeling embarrassed, it was like whenever I wrote something I would Not Be Having Fun With It because I kept thinking “deadline deadline deadline you need to finish this by the end of this week it’s only 5k words are you saying you can’t come up with a measly chapter in a week you used to be able to write 15 chapters in a month you dog” and I would just force myself to sit in front of my computer for hours and when I finally finished I wasn’t really happy with the final product I would just think “god I need a smoke break” even though I’ve never smoked in my life. and then I’d also get “please update!” messages/comments in the dry periods and, don’t get me wrong I really appreciate that people are reading my stuff, but I’d feel more and more stressed because then I’d automatically think “Oh My God People Are Waiting And I’m Letting Them Down.”
so with all these bad feelings welling up inside me I thought “I need a break.” and that’s what I did. I took like a 3 week break in september/october (I honestly don’t remember because the days have been bleeding together) in hopes that I just needed to rest to get my brain started again! after those 3 weeks I then did the usual routine of writing and updating, but again Things Just Didn’t Feel Right because it felt like I was diving back into that stress inducing spiral of the dreaded Weekly Updates.
I mean, I would get so hung over this stuff because in the back of my mind during my free time I’d be thinking “I could be writing and finishing up both series right now” and you know what? I’d do that. well, I tried at least. I’d force myself to sit and type whenever I had ANY free time because I already had everything planned, I just needed to put words to a page. well, doing that for nights on end was just mentally exhausting me to New Levels. everything I was doing was not sustainable at all.
AND THEN THINGS SLOWLY GOT WORSE because I would have zero confidence in my writing and every week or so I’d get a message in my inbox saying something along the lines of (or rather word for word) “your writing isn’t that good/special/anything new I don’t understand why people are reading it/why you get so many notes/you’re not as funny as you think you are” and at first I would kind of laugh at it and go “oh trust me buddy, I’m wondering the same thing too” and then delete it because I do Not Wish to entertain the thought on my blog, but then I was hitting a new all time low in my mentality and I got another message on the day I deactivated which was a Really Bad Day and it read “your writing isn’t good” and I went back to the chapter I was editing for the day, felt my gut do that twist and I thought “you know what? you’re right. it’s not. goodbye.” pressed the forbidden red button and honestly felt a weight lift off my shoulders because that meant I no longer had to deal with that stupid cycle of constantly updating in order to Feel Something.
I kept thinking “why is this not as fun as it used to be, why am I so stressed out all the time opening that stupid doc and going on my blog?” like I would literally sit down and think about this as if it was a math problem or something. my inadequacies kept rising within me but I would just bottle it up, go to writing and trying to answer messages like nothing was wrong because I really didn’t want to worry anyone or think I was a charity case who needed help, but now that I think about it I really should have talked this out instead keeping my mouth shut. I just thought this was something everyone goes through so I was like whatever it’ll pass. I kept thinking “this shouldn’t be as deep as I’m making it” and brush it aside, but then I kept thinking negatively about my ability to write and literally DREADED sitting down in front of my laptop that I would have to hype myself up in order to get a sentence in. I think the last time I actually felt really proud of something I had written was during the summer...... and then after that it was just downhill.
and listen. I know this is just a Fun endeavor and I really shouldn’t care about what other people think as long as it makes me happy, but along the way I stopped being happy because I started caring Way Too much and putting unrealistic expectations on myself. it’s weird. I know at my Big Age I should have a better mentality, but it’s been eating at me for a while and I just wanted to pull the plug.
okay now the part that a lot of people are wondering: are you going to finish your series? I plan to. I really want to. I think it’d be a waste not to. I’m still feeling pretty conflicted right now with my writing, but I already mapped everything out, and I don’t like to break promises since I already said I was going to do this thing. thanks to anyone who read my works and I’m sorry to have worried you. I just needed to take a step back and think about what’s good for myself.
yeah. so that’s my explanation. this whole thing is so long and for that I’m sorry. if you went through this then pat on the back for you. I don’t know when I’ll come back or how long it will take. I just want time for myself and to not think about anything with regards to writing. like at all. also I only have 1 request: for anyone who downloaded the series from ao3, please do not repost or reupload or redistribute them. please I’m literally begging. I deleted them for a reason and I really don’t like the idea of these stories floating around without my consent. when I do get back into it I’d like to make edits to what I have written. idk if any of my mutuals still want to talk to me after this but feel free to lmk lmfao sorry I know that I sound like I’m off the deep end but I really just need to cool it before I start diving back into a Healthy Relationship With My Writing Hobby lol. why am I so dramatic... SORRY. anyway. I hope you guys are staying happy and healthy during this time. don’t forget that.
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not-poignant · 3 years
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Do you think many things have changed about you being a writer online since the beginning of the Fae Tales Universe compared to now? Not only writing style, but including how you are online, or how you think about fandom?
Oooooo
*thinks*
Actually yeah, I mean writing style yes, but in terms of how I think about fandom and how I am online, that has changed a lot. (Adding a Read More because oh god this got LONG).
I used to like, try and be 100% kind all the time, since firstly that comes very naturally to me, and secondly because I was so like...happy and thrilled that folks were communicating with me in the beginning.
But then I was taken advantage of, and one person in particular was abusive, and at the time I didn’t see it for what it was. I’ve also been stalked. I’ve had someone turn up on my doorstep uninvited. And over time I think I’ve become no less grateful (if anything I’m more grateful for the amazing readers), but also more wary? Like, I’m more likely to delete troll messages, than I used to. And sometimes I think it will be more obvious if I’m impatient or if I’m asserting a boundary in an ask response.
Radiotherapy to the head/neck for the cancer I have also really altered things there. I realised I could die at any moment, life is really short, my tumours could metastasise at any time (I actually have one that’s growing at the moment, which is alarming) and that I don’t really have the...patience I guess, to spend time constantly saying ‘this isn’t a music rec blog’ or ‘please don’t recommend books to me because most of the time I don’t like them and people tend to resent me for it’ (as an example) year after year after year. Or to deal with bad faith anons, or anons who just enjoy the novelty of getting me to answer incessant questions about space or something else that has nothing to really do with me. I can’t tell you how many asks I’ve gotten about ‘will you ever make Augus and Gwyn dads, could they adopt a baby’ but it’s a lot and I’ve deleted most of them.
So I actually think I’m more realistically human than I used to be, online. Which is a weird thing to say, right? And maybe that pisses people off. I’ve always been very opinionated, probably to my detriment, that’s never really changed. I’m still going to tell antis to go fuck themselves.
I try and stick to a policy now with messages that piss me off, which is ‘take time before you reply to this.’ I don’t always succeed, but I usually like to wait 12-24 hours before I reply to those messages (or delete them), so I can at least give a fair and moderate response. I really hate feeling like I just got angry at someone who’s possibly only 18 years old and doesn’t really know how to articulate themselves well on the internet, and it can sometimes be hard to tell the difference between ‘troll’ and ‘someone who really just is nervous and shy and doesn’t know how to phrase their question.’
In terms of fandom, I love replying to comments more than ever, actually. Like I love it. I love kudos even more than I used to. I really am grateful for all reader  engagement. But I don’t have as much time and energy as I used to respond to every ask, so I respond to asks less, and I respond to them in a less timely manner. I really hate that, but sometimes it’s like ‘I can’t spend all of today replying to asks, I literally have to write the chapters that people want to read.’ I also get social anxiety around asks, and people can be impatient - like no one sends a second comment on AO3 going ‘heyyyy you haven’t replied to my comment yet’ - but you’d be surprised how much people put pressure on you on Tumblr sometimes, as though I also don’t have social anxiety and things might be really stressing me out. :(
In terms of my priority, it’s always 1. Writing content, 2. Replying to comments / being active on the Discord, 3. Replying on Patreon when necessary, 4. Replying to asks. If I’m behind on writing, everything else gets hit. I think when I first started out, I actually put comments and asks ahead of writing content sometimes, but now I know I will literally spend all my time responding to folks and that’s a me problem, and I’ve worked on that since lmao.
I’ve realised over the years that instead of just writing for myself, like I always used to, I also just want to deliver so many of you wonderful people good stories. This has come to matter to me more. The best way, I think, to repay some of the amazing faith and love you’ve all showed me, is to try and give you the best possible writing I can until like, my cancer makes that impossible. And so I’ve become a lot more focused as a writer, and a lot more like ‘this is where I want to be.’
I’ve also realised I care a lot less about traditional publishing, I really love serials! Er, that was a big one, I thought one day I’d transition from writing serials online to publishing books, but now I would like to always be writing serials, and publish books on the side. In a perfect world, I could also publish the serials as books too, so people could own them if they wanted to.
I’ve also seen over the years the rise of antis, and puritanical censorship, and more, and that’s made me angrier, and also much, much stronger re: feeling centred in what I write and what I have written. So I feel like I am much more like...genuinely not bothered by what antis have to say to me, and ironically I get less bothered by antis than ever before, probably because they know that I’m Teflon with claws whenever it comes to any of their rhetoric. I have a media degree that says they have no idea what they’re talking about, and I’m angry on behalf of all the readers who feel ashamed for reading certain content, and who deserve not to feel that way. So that’s like...a thing that’s changed over the years - my anger, and my anger on behalf of readers who might feel guilty or ashamed for liking noncon or incest or underage in fiction. It’s fiction. They’re allowed to engage in that without being afraid of being bullied for it. But that’s not the world we live in.
To be honest, a lot of the changes have been positive! I’ve become more sure and focused, I’ve actually become happier as a writer and a person, and I enjoy the fandom experience more, as well as writing fanfiction and stuff. I wish I had more time to like... chat about AUs and stuff and write Tumblr posts like I used to, but radiotherapy hit me pretty hard with some permanent energy loss and side effects, and so where things have changed in a bad way, it’s almost always because of health and not because I love fandom any less. And where I’ve changed in terms of sometimes being a bit more cynical about anon asks I try and remind myself to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and to just remind myself that I have my boundaries, and I’m safe/okay. I hate that I have to do that nowadays, but it was kind of stupid that I didn’t do it before.
I can’t believe how like... how lucky I am to be here. Lucky to be alive. Lucky to write for you all. Lucky to write stories I love. Lucky to reply to comments and asks like this one. I don’t ever want to lose sight of that or the gratitude.
I think the day I stop being grateful, is the day I need to walk away. It’s humbling, honestly, and I feel that more and more over time, and not less. Even when I’m an opinionated dumbass who writes too much most of the time, lmao.
(I didn’t even get to talking about how my writing style changed I’m sorry anon THIS GOT SO LONG FUCK)
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captcas · 3 years
Text
Too Many Minutes
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Rolling onto her side, she grabs her phone out of habit. There’s a spark of hope settled deep in her chest before she opens it to a screen empty of notifications beyond a few spam emails. Why would he greet her with his usual good morning? It’s not going to be a good morning… she hasn’t had a good morning in three weeks.
Three weeks, four days, and twelve hours. read on ao3
If it weren’t for the pounding in her head and uncomfortably dry tears on her cheeks, Emma would’ve thought this was all just a bad dream.
“It’s not the fact that you’re scared, Emma… I– you know I understand being scared. It’s that– it’s just so easy for you to– you’d rather give into that fear than fight it together. I thought we were stronger than that.”
She hates when he calls her Emma.
Rolling onto her side, she grabs her phone out of habit. There’s a spark of hope settled deep in her chest before she opens it to a screen empty of notifications beyond a few spam emails. Why would he greet her with his usual good morning? It’s not going to be a good morning… she hasn’t had a good morning in three weeks.
Three weeks, four days, and twelve hours.
Her body shifts into the autopilot she’s relied on since he walked out the door. She starts crying again, this time the tears collecting at her feet with the hot water from her shower. Logically, she knows she can’t see the individual tears, but as they go down the drain with the rest of the water she can’t help but feel it’s a metaphor.
A really shitty metaphor.
This is her new routine, wake up, check her phone, cry in the shower, head to work, and spend every waking moment reliving that night until she falls back asleep from utter exhaustion. Her friends don’t even know they broke up– if they did Emma surely would have more than spam emails to delete each morning. Killian must be leaving that up to her; she broke it, it’s only fair she has to pick up the pieces.
Sometimes the anger sets in. He promised he wouldn’t walk out, he said he’d be there, he promised it was them against the world— maybe doubting a promise is the easiest way to break it.
Emma walks into the kitchen to grab some coffee before heading into the center– their center. When she started at the Boston Youth Community Center, she didn’t intend to fall in love with the cheeky, handsome outdoor rec coordinator. She also didn’t intend on them working together so well that, when Marco retired, they were an obvious fit for co-directors.
That seemed like a good idea at the time.
He took the first week off, but then moved offices without so much as a word to her. He’s now on the main floor with the kids instead of the office level next to her. Killian swore to the board it was to be more involved but Emma knows it was the furthest away he could get from her without quitting.
Killian isn’t a quitter.
Emma apparently is.
Unlocking her office door, his absence is felt just as much as the empty space in her bed. The office is littered with their memories, work and otherwise. She hasn't been able to bring herself to take down the picture frames– the action feeling too finite. It’d be the next step in making all of this real. At best, she’s been able to put one face down for a few hours before she misses his artificial presence and sets it upright again.
The picture next to her computer is of the day he proposed. Just them on the couch watching The Office when (in his words) the need to propose just came over him– he’d had the ring for months. Emma’s never agreed to something so quick– any and all hesitation completely trumped by overwhelming joy at being chosen by someone forever.
Now, it’s four months later and the stress of wedding planning and the reality of what forever actually means all bombarded her one day and she snapped.
Three weeks, four days, and fourteen hours ago.
She wonders to herself if Killian already packed all these memories away. He moved offices, and she supposes it’d be weird for him to put their photos back up…
Emma jumps at a knock on her door and quickly composes herself before rushing to answer it, “Sorry, yes, coming!” She wipes a stray tear from her cheek and turns the handle. She didn’t expect to find him standing there, “Killian?”
He looks just as awful as she does– and that’s saying something because handsome is an understatement when it comes to Killian. While Emma expected that to be comforting, it only makes her feel worse. They’ve always fed off one another, their codependency one of the few that even Mary Margaret, a trained psychiatrist, called healthy. Neither of them grew up with anyone they could depend on, not long enough to form any sort of healthy connection– not until each other.
“May I come in, please?” His voice startles her. After being alone with only the memory of it, she realizes it’s much more beautiful in person. She knew she missed it, but she didn’t realize how much.
Killian raises an eyebrow, something playful she didn’t expect, before walking into the office without the permission he asked for. He beelines for the photo on her desk, the one that caused her tears only moments before. He pauses for a moment before turning towards her, “You still have them up.”
The shocked tone of his voice feels like a dagger to her chest, the fact he thought she’d be able to move past them so quickly. “Uh, yeah. I–”
She’s not good with words so she leaves it at that. There are so many things she wants to say, apologies and explanations and confessions of love. For three weeks, four days, fourteen hours, and nine minutes she’s been rehearsing everything she should have said but the minute she’s presented with the opportunity she freezes.
Emma watches as he traces his thumb over the picture of them before she glances towards his eyes. He’s been crying, maybe not this minute but she knows that hint of red at the corner of his eye– the anniversary of Liam’s death hitting him harder each year that passes. At 34 this year, he officially turned a year older than his brother and there’s something about that fact which made everything monumentally harder and caused that flash of red to remain there for weeks. She swore to herself she’d never cause him that kind of pain.
More empty promises.
He glances over at her and Emma realizes she has no concept for how long they’ve been standing there or at what point she started to cry. A soft gasp escapes him when she bats a tear away with her left hand, “You’re still wearing your ring.”
He doesn’t question it, just states it like a fact he can’t believe.
“Because, more than anything, I’m still yours.” Emma isn’t sure where it came from, eloquent confessions of feelings and emotions typically reserved for Killian. She stumbles on the follow up, “If you— could you still want me… I mean–”
He stands there taking her in for what feels like an eternity. The regret and guilt Emma’s built up in her chest for three weeks threatening to escape through her tear ducts if she has to wait for his answer much longer.
She doesn’t.
Before she can turn away, he’s wrapping her in a deep kiss. A weight lifts and it feels like every light in the world turns on the moment they connect once more. Emma knows this isn’t a fix all, that after the initial high of being together again, there’s going to be long talks, and tearful battles, but if the last three weeks, four days, fourteen hours, and who the hell knows how many minutes have taught her anything, it’s that any life with Killian is better than even a day without him. They break from the kiss and Killian leaves another on her forehead. His hand absentmindedly finds hers and begins to play with the intricate diamond band on her finger.
“Killian, I–” He kisses her again, stopping her apology. She closes her eyes, willing the tears of relief to stay put as she leans into his prosthetic when he brushes some fallen hair from her face. As she feels his body shift in front of her, she opens her eyes to find him looking straight back at her.
“I know, Swan. Me too. But not here, alright? We’ll have plenty of time to talk, so for now I’d like to enjoy holding my fiance for the first time in three weeks.”
She loves when he calls her Swan.
Killian pulls her in for a tight hug and Emma’s auto-calculator seems to speak for her, “Three weeks, ten days, fourteen hours and–”
“And too many minutes, love.” He laughs as he finishes her sentence and Emma chokes out a giggle through her tears. She feels foolish for ever doubting that when Killian promised forever that he hadn’t thought of the implications– that he was anything like the people who left scars on her through her entire life.
They end up getting married the next day, a private celebration meant solely for them. It was Emma’s idea, her way of proving to Killian that she wasn’t going to run again. At first he was wary, big rash decisions not typically in his wheelhouse, but when she put on the wedding dress she’d picked out with Mary Margaret months before he’d even proposed, she saw a sort of understanding shift into his gaze. This is something they’ve both wanted for longer than they’ve been letting on— both too scared to make the move, to risk getting hurt again. Killian makes an appointment at the courthouse and they pay the extra $12 for a random witness from the courthouse staff. Afterwards, they met their friends at the bar like they do every Friday evening.
It only took one hour and thirty-three minutes for Mary Margaret to notice the ring on Killian’s right hand and another twelve minutes for her to convince them they needed to throw a big celebration.
Emma breathes a sigh of relief that night when she hears Killian’s soft breathing beside her for the second time in– well, too long. There’s such a fine line between want and need. For both of them, it just took a harsh reminder that when you realize want and need are one in the same, you better fight for it.
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byuntrash101 · 2 years
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I'm honestly am not going to make myself anonymous because I want other writers to reach out for help.
I used to make oneshots on wattpad but mainly ao3 and there was a good audience there but my genuine question is like how do u get more out there ?? I wanna make stories but there has to be an audience to persuade me no matter what. I'm writing this in genuine stress bc I just deleted like my whole story and I am mid breakdown.
I am more of a one shot person than a story person because my ideas can't run for a long time, like I be having one of the most BRILLIANT ideas but I have no idea how to keep on an idea , the main question is how do u make your stories go on for long?
Do you also go by what the audience likes or do u go by what you like and do u ever get any type of judgement in a way.
I'm more used to like the wattpad / ao3 community , is there any difference with tumblr in a way ? 😭🤌🏾
I'm sorry for asking so much questions too, love your stories ♡
Heyyy sorry for the delayed answer!
Okay so my first and main advice is YOU SHOULD ONLY WRITE THE STUFF THAT YOU LIKE NOT THE READERS! Don't worry when you enjoy writting it is perceivable by the readers and it makes everyone's experience more enjoyable. The readers will know if you have no passion about what you write and therefore it's useless you put yourself thought toture for nothing. Write the stuff that you like. For instance smut is popular here but if you don't want to write it then don't. Or you you wanna write dark smut with obscure kinks then do it! People who enjoy your content will find you!
So following that is if you are more of a one shot person... awesome! stick to that! don't force yourself! I'm only now starting to understand i, too, am more of a one shot person. soooo maybe one day you'll have inspiration for a long chaptered story and you'll go with that in the meantime don't force anything and just write your one shots girl.
For the differences between the communities i can only talk about tumblr and wattpad. I write for wattpad and i must say it's a lot harder to get your stories known. The tags don't work as well as here. I think readers on wattpad like smaller chapters but many chapteres. As for tumblr people here like the long one shot. My most noted post here is a one shot that almost 12K long haha. I published on wattpad and it didn't do as well. But it's okay.
My last advice is please don't get too hung up on the numbers. It's only normal to want that a story you put your heart into does well but it takes times to get readers and build a community so please be patient and don't compare yourself to other authors (im guilty of that one way too often).
I hope i could help ^^
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