#i think the one constant thing that stayed with me is possibly writing fanfiction

[ladydisharmony]

fluttercord fanfic snippet :)

some context:

so, i’ve started re-writing bride of discord. arguably the most popular fluttercord fanfiction to date, written by DisneyFanatic2364. i grew up anticipating each episode of the audio drama; i loved it. however, rewatching it (as i’ve done multiple times to torture myself) has made me realize it has not aged well at all. discord’s characterization, the lack of actual chemistry between him and fluttershy and the constant weight of their circumstances, applespike, among other things range from uncomfortable to problematic. because of this, i’ve wanted to take the plot and mold it into something that fixes those issues as well as divulge more into the characters and their feelings.

i haven’t actually read the fanfic (before i continue this i want to read through it one time, to be fair), i’ve only consumed the audio drama, but considering how poorly the characters (most notably discord) are written in the audio drama i can’t image there is much more i’m missing. no hate necessarily, DF just isn’t, or wasn’t, the most skilled writer in my opinion. as a warning, i’m no author either, but i find joy in writing from time to time and i do think i have something of substance.

in my re-write, i have fluttershy taking interest in discord in his hiding period. i think it makes it more interesting that her fear subsides and is replaced by a want to learn about him and where he came from. it gives her a personal incentive to accept his deal without her feeling like she has to because she has no other choice. she doesn’t really want to marry him, but she isn’t being tormented by him after his disappearance nor is she completely miserable in her stay at his estate.

speaking of the deal, when asking for a bride, discord doesn’t really intend to take the marriage seriously. i’m still considering if i want him to ask for this out of hopes one of the elements will come forward, or if he just narrow its down, saying that one of the elements has to “give themselves up”. either way he hopes to ensure or IS ensuring the keeping of their word when they say they won’t use the elements against him. there isn’t a wedding or anything of that nature, that’s too boring. the proposal is them being married and then fluttershy is just someone living in his house that he has to feed sometimes. i want her to still have contact with her friends in some way. discord doesn’t want any conspiring, so either letters or a ‘one person at a time’ visitor rule.

just two of the changes i’m making still working it out but that’s some of my base ideas . if yall have any suggestions i’d love to hear them as im open to critiques or any other ideas, tho there is no guarantee ill adapt to them.

without further ado, here is the snippet. if yall like it enough i’ll continue and publish the chapter :)

➽───────────────❥

The Chaos dimension had made a great home for Discord the last year. It had everything he could possibly need, save anyone to torment. That wouldn’t be an issue soon, however. The Lord of Chaos had been lying low in his little window outside of reality, waiting for the right time to reintroduce himself. he was growing bored of waiting. Discord admired himself in his living room mirror. It was upside down and attached to the wall at an angle, leaving it crooked and ineffective as a floor-length mirror. He was looking at his upside down reflection when it started betraying his movements.

“Can you *please* find something else to do when you’re thinking,” his reflection crossed it’s arms over it’s chest and outstretches its neck, pushing it through the glass threshold effortlessly, “I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me.”

Discord rolled his eyes as his reflection-Who he deemed ‘Secondcord’- pulled itself from the mirror completely. “Well you know me, I have an affinity for the chaotic and strange,” he teased his doppelgänger with an un-serious smirk on his face, stepping out of it’s way as it glided to the floor. “Speaking of chaos, I believe my time to shine is closely approaching.” Discord stepped closer to himself, bringing his eagle claw to tap Secondcord’s nose.

“The Gala?” It swatted his hand away, “how clever to pop up on them while their energy is focused elsewhere. That is, until you consider they still bare their elements and you can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh please, I evaded them before-”

“Narrowly. You evaded them narrowly.”

“So I know what to look for! Flashing lights, a big rainbow. That’s not hard to miss. Besides, the plan I’ve been concocting should save me from having to worry about the elements at all!” He falls back and motions his paw, a lawn chair appearing to break his fall. With a snap, a wine glass rests in his palm. Secondcord watched unamused as he took a sip.

“Oh, a plan to deactivate the elements? Do tell! Seeing as your magic is *completely* ineffective in removing them from their bearers I’d love to know how you plan to do so. I sure do hope that whatever that hamster brain of yours is thinking is more permanent than reversing their personalities.” It picked at it’s talon claws, pretending to find them interesting, “Perhaps you’ll encase *them* in stone? Or maybe turn them into wooden puppets, unable to make their own decisions. Oh, I know! You’ll turn the six lapdogs into beautiful paintings and hang them above your mantel. How cruel, to make them watch you have all the fun from above your ‘waterplace’.” He looked to the aforementioned ‘waterplace’, wiggling his fingers. Red water spouted from wooden logs like a backwards waterfall, up into a never-ending chimney.

“Well if you’d stop listening to the sound of your own voice, I’ll tell you.” Discord’s eyes are closed as he takes another sip, then hums. “Although, I do like the sound of that last idea. Maybe I’ll store it away for Lady Loyalty.” He sat like he was a woman suntanning at the beach trying to seduce the person of her affections, “Or maybe for you? it would certainly save me from your sarcastic remarks.” As he takes a third sip of his wine, it’s apparent that the amount of liquid in the glass is unchanged.

“The plan,” Secondcord barked, sick of Discord’s tendency to dance around every single thing he was trying to say.

“Oh you buzzkill, I can never poke fun with you. *Fine*. I’ll strike a deal or two with them.” Secondcord furrowed his brow and lifted his head at his counterparts words, egging him to go on. “I can’t touch their elements, no, but i *can* make it to where they can’t use them. I’ve taken Twilight’s horn before and I can take it again, this time I’ll only give it back if they promise to not use the elements in return.” He lifted himself from the lawn chair, both it and his drink disappearing in a puff of smoke. He began to pace, miscellaneous sounds coming with each of his footsteps. “I have a few other cards up my sleeve, but that’s to be played out.”

Secondcord tilted his head and feigned disinterest, but his amused smile was apparent. “Well, I suppose it’s a step up from you last attempt, I’ll give you that.”

➽───────────────❥

[proxis-shattered-expectations]

Do you write fanfiction of your OCs? If so, can we have a taste?

I do. I plan on working on the Full story of Siva sometime in the future detailing her survival through the biblical apocalypse, but I am only working on a one shot for now. It takes place after the end war, maybe a couple months after the events of Darksiders, and it covers about how Siva is coping to a peaceful life, but no human ever comes out unscathed after her experiences. I put the Beginning snippet of it here , but I can share a little more too...

Siva's POV

With a sharp gasp for air, I shot up from my bed with a start, my heart and head pounding against their weak prison of flesh as tried to get oxygen back into my system.  Through the ringing in my ears, I could hear a torrent of rain against the window, beating harshly to create a constant patter of sound.  I had almost come back to my senses before a sudden flash of white light filled the room, making me tense up and freeze in place.  Without even thinking I rolled off the mattress and onto the floor, my feet meeting the ground as my eyes flitted against the illuminated  darkness.  Where is it?!  Where did I-

The shimmer of metal caught my eye, and I made a desperate sprint toward the hammer that rested at the door. I was so close...until the resounding boom of thunder sent a shock throughout my body, making my limbs lock in place.  The last thing I registered was my body falling to the floor in an uncoordinated heap of limbs, my head was throbbing, and I couldn't hear anything except the staggering gasps for air as I laid there.  The sheer sound of the elements outside sent my mind reeling, my adrenaline was pumping through my veins, and the terror came back in a raging force.  All I could manage to do was curl up where I was, clenching my teeth as I felt a phantom pain run through my frame, wheezing as my stomach began to churn in ways I never thought possible.  As if my body was preparing for the worst.  

I don't know how long I spent on the floor, trying to still my beating heart that seemed to want to escape from my chest.  Time spent clutching my gut as if my insides were imploding, while my brain wracked against my skull from all the images burned in my memory forever.  The smell of burning flesh, the smoke and rot that permeated in the air with every life lost.  The sights of endless bodies littered  across the Earth, flesh and blood strewn about, and hopelessness of being the only one......it all came crashing down.

All I seemed to recall doing in that moment was summoning what ever strength I had, and while grabbing Ironbark from it's place, proceeded to drag myself to the only enclosed space I could think of.  The storm outside continued to rage, and all I knew was that I need to get as far away from it as possible.  Some where quiet and small.  Somewhere safe.

Once there, I crawled into the space that was my closet, and there I stayed.  Huddled in the corner, my back turned away from the outside world as I leaned against the wall for support.  My grip on the hammer had tightened considerably, trying to regain some semblance of composure through the storm raging within.  Breath........just breath.......

I tried to make as little noise as possible, keeping my dry sobs to a whisper as I repeated to myself.  "It's over now......It's over now.....It's all over now......no need to be afraid...."

It was as if I were in a trance.  My every instinct was fighting to stay awake no matter what, even though my mind knew there were no more demons or ghouls.  The thunder certainly didn't help, for I seemed stuck to the corner, fearing what I would see if I turned around.  The faint noise of heavy footsteps almost escaped me due to the storm overhead.  When the lightning passed, I heard it. .

.....Oh god.....I'm gonna die. 

   The thought came without warning, and before I knew it, my entire being tensed uncomfortably as a sense of dread over took my mind.  I wanted to fight it, whatever had just entered my home, but I couldn't move.  I was too scared, and i felt as if I was caught at my weakest.  I shut my eyes in resignation as the footfalls got closer, but when I felt the presence right behind me, I also registered something else. 

The sound of heavy armor clinking against itself echoed in the darkness, heavy steps that stopped right at the door, followed by a scent.  That familiar scent that I faintly could recall.  While not as tinged with foul blood and smoke from before, the smell of iron, leather and the earth filled the small space.  It was so strong that it began to draw me from my forced trance, but I dared not move until I was absolutely sure.  Then after a moment of eerie silence, the familiar deep voice rose above the thunder. 

"Siva?"

.......War?

My intial surprise was overtaken once more by the lightning strike outside, letting out a small whimper as I burrowed my face into the corner.  Even as the thunder passed, I could not muster the courage nor the strength to answer back, too focused on trying to calm myself down.  How is he here....and how did he get in?   When I heard nothing, I tried to brush it off.  Maybe the lack of sleep is making me imagine it......do I really miss him that much, that I think I-

  "If you do not answer, I will break this door like the other.".

.....That explains how he got in....and proves he's.....real.

Clearing my throat, my voice wavered from the closet corner as I replied in haste.  "I'm fine- just uhhh......resting?"

For a mere moment, a quiet energy hung in the air like a heavy mist.  It was almost suffocating, and as I took a faint breathe to quiet my mind, the doorknob to the closet began to shake.  I only watched as it turned one way then the other, and with uncharacteristic care, the large nephilim opened it as he poked his head in.  Even with the darkness, his brilliant gaze lit up the small space, his eyes trained on my form as he looked to me for confirmation.  I stared back with weary eyes.  ".......Hi big guy."

Hope ya like, and would love feedback cuz it's still a work in progress.

[thebraxiatelcollection]

I really hate starting things, get really passionate about them, then just...lose interest in projects/hobbies.

[lostinfantasyworlds]

UTNL is COMPLETE!!

SO MANY thoughts and feelings about finally completing Under the Northern Lights under the cut! 

This is going to be ridiculously long, and sappy, and extra (shocker, I know). I don’t actually expect anyone to read all of this, but I had to get out all of my feelings somewhere. 

I can’t believe I can finally mark this fic as ‘Complete,’ almost a full year after I first had the idea pop into my mind. This story was a first for me in a lot of ways. My first multi-chapter, first AU, first to reach the length of a novel. It’s weird because I feel like a lot of the time, the first works you create when new to a particular medium are ones that you end up looking back on with a bit of cringe later on when you’ve had much more practice with said medium.

But I don’t think I’ll ever write another story that means as much to me as this one does. 

I hadn’t written creatively (besides back in grade school) or published fanfiction until November 2020, only about 4 months before I published the first chapter of UTNL. Because I could tell that this story was going to extra special to me, I debated waiting to share it until I had more experience with writing, but I’m glad I didn’t let that hold me back. 

There are certainly some things, especially in the early chapters, that I already look back on and cringe over a little (which I will be working on touching up over the next couple months). But overall, I think of this story as my “masterpiece” so to speak, and feel like it always will hold a special place in my heart. I honestly don’t think it’s possible for me to pour any more love, dedication and obsession into a story as I did for this one. 

I thought about this version of Inuyasha and Kagome SO much that it is probably unhealthy. I spent countless hours researching, plotting, and putting myself in their shoes when writing each line. I felt the emotions in this story as if they were my own, trying to make it as authentic as possible while staying true to the essence of the characters. 

But for as proud as I am of this story, I’ve also had SO much self doubt. I tend to get in my own head a lot, and am insanely self-critical on top of my unparalleled ability to overthink EVERYTHING. Honestly, there were a lot of times when working on this story almost felt like torture, despite how much I truly love it, just because of how neurotic I tend to get when putting my creative work out there. 

The comments and general outpouring of love helped get me through that more than I can say, and there aren’t enough ways for me to say THANK YOU to everyone who ever even gave this story a chance. I have been floored by some of the comments I’ve received, and feel incredibly lucky that this story managed to connect with others.

But of course, I can’t talk about UTNL without dedicating at least a full paragraph to Jane ( @goshinote​ ). When I say that this story wouldn’t be what it is without her, I truly mean that. We had only been talking for a little less than two months when I first pitched her the idea of UTNL, and she immediately became its biggest fan. From helping me brainstorm plot ideas (and directly suggesting all kinds of things that became part of the final story), to reading over every single chapter multiple times and leaving the best comments/screams on Google docs, to listening to every single song on the UTNL playlists and telling me her thoughts on each one, to just generally showing interest and encouraging me every few days during the entire time that I was writing it. 

I will admit that I am a needy ho who needs all kinds of reassurance and praise to prevent myself from falling into a spiral of self-doubt and anxiety, and Jane was like the constant cheerleader I needed to actually get this monster of a story out into the world. Our friendship grew along with the story, and now I can honestly say that she is one of my best friends, including my “in real life” friends. 

So thank you times infinity, Jane, for all of your love and support and encouragement, and for being such an amazing friend. This story is dedicated to you for a reason ❤️🖤

Now, back to the writing itself...

I never thought that I would write a 200k word novel when I started writing fanfiction. My first several stories were all canon-based one shots. I remember reading fics over 100k for the first time shortly before starting UTNL, and being in total awe that someone could write a fic that was as long and intricate as novels such as the Harry Potter books. Like…what???

And then the fact that I ended up writing a story longer than The Fellowship of the Ring (which is just under 188k) is just…….what even??? How??!?

I am genuinely so proud of this accomplishment, no matter how many things I know I could have done better etc.

2021 wasn’t a great year. Like many others, I’ve been struggling quite a bit with my mental health throughout this pandemic, and depression has really been kicking my ass for the last couple of years in a way that I’ve never dealt with before (my previous mental health struggles were all with severe anxiety, not so much depression). So writing UTNL has also been kind of a saving grace for me, giving me an outlet to focus my creative energy into, and something to be excited about when everything else felt so overwhelmingly shitty. 

But of course, the core motivation behind this story is my undying love for InuKag as a ship. I’ve never loved another fictional couple as deeply as I love them, and that’s saying something, considering I’ve been totally balls deep into other ships/fandoms before. The layers of trust and love and intimacy and even sexual tension that RT managed to create between these two characters is something I could explore endlessly, and will continue to explore in my writing in the future. 

With UTNL, I wanted to write a story that covered ALL of the bases. Starting with the intense chemistry and sexual tension between them, because I am a totally shameless heathen at this point. Half of the chapters of UTNL have explicit sexual content, and I have to say that I had a lot of fun writing all of it 😏. But possibly even more fun, was building up all of that tension before anything even happened, making it almost unbearable so that the moment they finally got to act on it would feel that much more intense (hence the explosion metaphor...and the boom). 

But probably an even more important element that I had in mind from the beginning is the angst. My favorite type of angst is the bittersweet type: the gut-wrenching ache that comes with loving someone and losing them, letting them go because you know you have to, even though it shatters your heart into a million pieces. That was central to the entire idea of the story, where I wanted to create a finite timeline from the get go. The challenge was getting them close enough during that one month together for them to fall in love so deeply that it would be heartbreaking and devastating to let each other go. Chapter 13 (The Last Time) will always be my favorite chapter, and my favorite thing I’ve ever written, for that reason. 

But lastly, it’s really all comes down to the love. For a good portion of the story, it’s mainly about the attraction and the amazing sex. But once the romance sets in, I wanted it to run deep. By the end, I wanted to really capture that all-consuming, born-for-each-other type of love that InuKag shares, just in a modern setting. And that’s why the epilogue is my other favorite chapter, as far as content goes.

It was fun to play around with this version of Inuyasha and Kagome, where Inuyasha is about twice the age (mentally) of his canon self, and was raised by his mother, making him a little bit softer and more emotionally mature than he is in canon. Kagome has the same kindness and stubbornness, with a little extra ambition and creativity and wittiness thrown in, just for fun. 

Honestly...I could probably write another small novel about my process of writing UTNL, along with how much thought went into every word, all of the scenes I imagined in my head, how my own background in photography informed many parts of the story, etc...but I have to stop rambling at some point...so I guess I will cut myself off here. 

All I can say at this point is that it has been an honor to share this story that means so so much to me, and to receive so much love and positive feedback in return. So many comments I’ve received have just blown me away, left me speechless or in tears because of how much others loved this story the way I do. So thank you all from the bottom of my heart, for your support and love, even if you haven’t read the story, or it wasn’t your thing. I’m just so happy that Under the Northern Lights made even one other person feel something in the way I intended. 

Now excuse me while I go cry...and then finally relax. I will be taking a small semi-hiatus from writing for a few weeks or so, mostly so that I can focus on catching up with all of the reading I’ve been ignoring in favor of writing this. But I’ll definitely be back at it sooner rather than later, because I have several stories I’ve been dying to share!

If you’ve actually read this far, holy shit I’m sorry for rambling so much, but also kudos to you and thank you thank you thank you times a million.

I’m so happy I found this fandom, and the outlet of writing. 

LOVE YOU ALL ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

BESTIES!! PART 10 IS A HOT ONE!! Enjoy reading it as much as I did while writing it (and re-reading it because its probs one of my fav parts of the whole series) Love Always, Steph xx

Part 10 | parte dieci

warnings; heavy-petting, almost-smut, and a hot jack grealish - read at your own risk ;) word count; 2469. writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 16/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

Longing glances and shy smiles. That  was how Amelia and Ben both spent the next morning at Cobham together, prior to travelling to Stamford Bridge for the fourth match of the season against Aston Villa. The two had spent the rest of the evening relaxing on the couch; no additional kisses were shared between them as they had both agreed to keep things friendly, and no matter how hard Ben tried, Amelia had no intentions of going any further just yet. She had admitted to him something that she had never uttered out loud before: she still needed to work out how to exist without Fede.

While their situationship had been as unconventional as it was, it was still something that Amelia had grown to live with and love. Fede’s personality was unlike no other she had come across, perhaps closest to that of Jack Grealish. Friendly, flirtatious, charming, to the point where she found herself blushing sometimes - not many people had been able to make her shy enough to blush, but Fede had, and now Jack was too.

hot boy grealish

mornin mils, can’t wait to see ya today.

I’ll be the hot one with the good hair and even better ass.

hot gal mils

morning my dear jacky, looking forward to seeing you too.

Is Tyrone not playing?

His bum has always been my fav bum to stare at.

hot boy grealish

cut it out, you.

Banter-filled texts had been a constant stream of entertainment throughout the days leading up to the match. Jack has been preparing Amelia for the possibility of her losing, constantly picking on the girl for being an overachiever and saying that she needs to be brought down a few pegs, having been quite some time since her team had lost a match. Amelia however, with enough self-confidence to rival that of the villa boy, wouldn’t even let him finish his sentences. Far too superstitious for that to happen.

The girl believed in superstitions, and she was not about to tempt her fate. She even went so far as to have her family name and a small Italian flag embroidered onto the inside of her collar of every polo shirt she would wear for match days. She did it at Juventus and organised for it to be done to her new Chelsea uniform. It was a personal choice, something that happened to run in her family also, her father and brother also having the White family name stitched to the inside of their kit. It was a way of keeping them all tied together, no matter what side of the pitch they were on. The Italian flag was there to remind her of all that the country had given her: her grandparents and a chance to be brilliant at what she loves most.

Arriving at Stamford Bridge off of the team bus, Jorgi had insisted she sitwith him and they spoke exclusively in Italian for the 30-odd minute drive from Cobham. Despite Amelia purchasing a new car a few days prior, Jorgi insisted they continue to carpool. It worked out well because now Amelia wouldn’t have to catch the team bus back to the training ground after the match. She had spent the better part of an hour out on the pitch with some of the boys, running through the plays she had in mind before she ushered them back into the changeroom, allowing the Aston Villa men to have their time out on the grass.

______________________________________________________________

“I would know that bum anywhere.”

“Hello Jack, nice to see you too. I’ve been well thanks, so has my bum. I’ll let my face know you said hello, too,” I spoke as I stood up from my crouched position, where I had been tying my laces.

“Just kiddin love, actually no I'm not - I love your bum. But I am happy to see your beautiful face too!” Jack spoke, as he pulled me into a hug - wrapping both of his arms around my head, effectively pushing me further into his chest.

“You saw my face a couple days ago when we were on FaceTime!”

“I saw your bum a few days ago on FaceTimetoo, doesn’t mean I'm not happy to see it!”

“So that's why you like helping me do my laundry, so you can see my backside as I reach into the machine!”

“Now I’m not a religious man, but I have prayed to God a few times that you drop a sock or two riiiiiiight in front of the camera.” He laughed back at my shocked expression.

“Jack! You are ridiculous! Stop being such a perv! No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend” I play-shouted at him as I smacked him with my rolled up matchday program.

“I’m holding out for you, my love.”

“Always the joker, Jack. Get out there and prepare for the worst match of your season.”

“Dream on Mils, we’ve got this in the bag.”

“Sure thing Jacky, sure thing.”

I walked further up the tunnel towards the changeroom, getting ready to deliver my strategy talk to the boys.

“Stop looking at my ass, Grealish!” I shouted without turning around. The boisterous laugh that followed my exclamation was enough to know that I was correct. I didn’t need to turn around to be able to predict what the laddish lad was already doing.

60 minutes of football later.

Amelia was correct in saying that Chelsea were going to win the match, her quiet confidence only getting louder and louder as each premier league match went on. She was apprehensive at first to see if her tactics were going to work in the Prem, or if there was to be some compromise on skill due to the fast-paced nature of the game. So far, however, the Chelsea men were quick learners and even quicker to execute.

One thing she wasn’t prepared for, however, was the absolute worldie that Jack had scored just before half-time at the Bridge. There was an element of familiarity in his goal, recognising the play as one of her own. A small smile crossed  her face after he scored, running to celebrate with the away fans before jogging down past the bench and mouthing a quick “all you baby” at her as he moved back into position. She must have told him about it back when she was in Italy, knowing that there was no chance she would have exchanged her trade secrets to an enemy in the same league. It warmed her to know he paid enough attention to her to be able to practice that on his own with his team and execute it flawlessly in a live game.

What Amelia also wasn’t prepared for was for anyone else to recognise the play. Behind her on the bench sat an oddly-inquisitive Ben. He saw the tactic as it was playing out, recognising the run that Jack had to make to put himself in the box at the exact moment that John McGinn crossed the ball. Better yet, he saw Jack run down the sideline, nowhere near where he should have been, and mouth those words to Amelia. He wanted to know what was going on, was that why she wasn’t ready to commit to him?

Later that same evening.

After a hot shower, Amelia was curled up on the couch, ready to continue the docuseries she was watching the night before when she had an unexpected visitor pop round and confess his feelings to her. Thinking back on the night prior, she was happy that things ended up working out the way they did. Of course she wasn’t exactly thrilled with just how they happened but she could forgive the sweet boy. His intentions were pure and that's not something she was used to. It made her giddy to think about him, and about where things may go in the future.

A ring of her doorbell, almost to the exact hour that it had the night prior, made her get off her couch and walk down the small hall to the front door with a smirk on her face. Expecting to see the same brown-haired, blue-eyed boy that seemed to enjoy ringing her bell after hours. What she saw on the other side, however, was not what she was expecting.

“Jack, what on bloody God’s earth are you doing here?! You should be halfway back to Birmingham by now!”

“Are you gonna let me in love, it’s bloody cold out ‘ere tonight. Come on, shove over,” The slightly-less-than-6-foot-tall footballer commandeered her hallway, shutting the door behind him and locking it. This,  coupled with his overnight duffle bag hanging off his shoulder let Amelia know that he had no other plans but to stay with her.

“Sure, Jack, I suppose you can come in and spend the night crashing in my spare room.”

“Now now, don’t pretend that you’re not happy to see me, love. And a spare room? I believe you promised me a cuddle.”

Rolling her eyes, she couldn’t help but smile at the charming young man. Feeling the blush start to spread from her chest up her neck and across her cheeks, she quickly turned and walked into her kitchen, calling out over her shoulder to ask if he wanted a cup of tea. Feeling a sense of deja vu from the night before, she shook her head and reminded herself that this is nothing like the night before. How could it have been - there was no kissing involved.

“Was that a blush I saw? Do I make you nervous, Amelia?” Somehow, Jack had moved to be right behind the girl at her kitchen counter. Hands on her hips, chest to her back, lips to her ear. Amelia felt herself freeze, and then relax into his hands.

“Jack, please, I don’t think we should do this.”

“Why not, Mils? You can feel it, too. The tension through the screen’s enough to force me into a cold shower most nights.”

And just like the night before, the whistle of the kettle was the only piercing sound resonating around the townhouse. Whilst all she saw was truth behind Ben’s eyes, Jack's eyes were clouded with lust and affection. Just once, she could give in, right?

Leaning her head back to rest on his right shoulder, he attached his lips to the left side of her neck. Hands rolling from the side of her hips, to underneath her shirt, feeling the small navel piercing between his fingers and smirking.

“Didn’t take you for being the kind of girl to have a piercing, Mils,” He spoke into her collarbone, a small nip to the sensitive skin as the girl continued to focus on her breathing.

“Piercings, Jack. I have more than one” She breathlessly spoke, knowing exactly what she was doing now. The admission of having more than one piercing that he could not see was all of the consent Jack needed to continue his exploration of her body.

“Are you going to let me see them, darling?”

“If you’re lucky.”

“I’d say I'm the luckiest guy in the world right now, especially in this position.”

She was unsure how it had happened, but Jack had pressed her further into the countertop. With her back still to his chest, his waist was at the perfect height to press into the small of her back. His leg had settled between both of her own and his hands had found the bottom of her bralette and were gently caressing her rib cage, desperate to get closer to where he presumed her other piercing was.

“We shouldn’t be doing this Jack,” she breathed out into the air, hot air escaping her lungs to resemble what she felt brewing in the pit of her stomach. Desire.

“Why the bloody hell not?” he mumbled into her sweet spot, where her jaw met her neck.

“Because I've been here before. This is bad.” With her eyes shut, he continued his way down her neck. The fabric of her top shifted so he could slide one of her straps down her arm.

“If it's bad, why does it feel so good? '' Whilst his lips got to work on her collarbone, and his hand was busy toying with the elastic line of her bralette, his other hand began to fiddle with her fingers. Entwining them with his own, the kind of strength she needed to feel to make her next decisions.

Pushing back off of the counter, meaning her ass had pushed right into the part of his body where he wanted her most, Amelia turned around and faced Jack. The two stood there, slightly panting, staring at each other. Amelia being the kind of girl that she is, decided that she wanted to have a little slice of the dominance pie. Maintaining eye contact, she lifted the bottom of her t-shirt over her head and dropped in on the floor, that second piercing now very clearly visible through the sheer fabric of her bralette.

“Come on Jack, aren’t you an athlete? What’s got you so out of breath? I thought you’d be able to last a little longer than some heavy petting.” She taunted at the smirking man, wanting nothing more than to mess up his hair as he nestled himself between her thighs. That's exactly the position that they found themselves in not more than 5 minutes later, this time upstairs in her bedroom.

Throughout the multiple rounds of passion that the two so-called friends shared that night, not once had their lips touched. Of course, her lips had touched parts of him and he had definitely been all over a completely different set of lips a few times (and from a few different positions), but face to face, eye to eye, nose to nose - their lips had never met. That told Amelia enough to set her anxiety on fire. Had she just gotten involved with a carbon-copy of the man she left behind in Italy?

The regret seeped through her bones and settled into her heart by the time that the Villa boy had fallen asleep next to her. What had she done? This was not the girl Amelia wanted to be anymore. She was done being the girl that was loved only when the lights went out. She wanted love under the sun, she wanted breakfast by the river, double dates, family parties. She wanted the kind of love that you could never try and hide even if you wanted to. She knew that this wasn’t what Jack was able to offer her. She was grateful for their friendship, she truly was, he made her laugh more than most people but for the first time in a very long time, she was certain that that's all she wanted from him.

Part 11. | parte undicesima

[thesoulspulse]

Reconcile (Good Vlad AU ~ Oneshot)

It happened in early winter, that's all he could tell because of the first signs of snowfall outside of the window next to his bed at the hospital. Vlad had been there for, what, a month or so? Kept in isolation from everyone apart from a couple of doctors and nurses. Honestly, it was entirely possible Vlad had been there for longer for all he knew since every day blurred into the next after the accident.

Vlad couldn't feel it though, the cold, because these days his skin always felt either unnaturally chilly or feverishly hot to the touch. The only constant Vlad could feel was pain. The morphine helped ease that pain a little bit, but all that was left to feel after that was this cold numbness. And since the doctors thought he had been exposed to radiation of some kind -which to be fair they weren't wrong- no one has been allowed to see him after he was admitted there.

But still, Vlad had hoped his friends would come see him eventually. And more importantly, he wanted the chance to give Jack a piece of his mind! That...that traitor knew the portal experiment was unstable and potentially dangerous and yet he still pressed the-

“Excuse me, are you awake Mr. Masters? You have a visitor,” a nurse called after knocking on the door and poking her head inside.

At first Vlad was happy that he had a visitor, hoping it would be Maddie so he could get these feelings off his chest about how angry he was at Jack...but as soon as he saw the large silhouette waiting outside the door he knew there was only one person that would have come here to see him who had such a wide girth. It was Jack. But he wasn't ready to see him, not yet, not when all Vlad could think about is how his best friend had almost killed him...

Turning his head away Vlad finally muttered, “Sorry, I'm not feeling well. Please tell them to come back lat-ER!”

Vlad grunted the last word of that sentence as Jack burst into the room, tears rolling down his cheeks as the man called him by that ridiculous nickname of Vladdy he insists on using. Normally Vlad could shrug it off, but right now the nickname felt insulting somehow as if Jack was making light of what happened the last time they saw each other. Either way it's a good thing Maddie actually was there and managed to help the nurse pry him off, reminding Jack that Vlad's in the hospital as a patient so giving him a bear hug wasn't the best idea.

Regardless, Jack looked at Vlad's bandaged face and sobbed, “I'm so sorry V-man. We tried to come sooner but they wouldn't let us in! We were so worried about you!”

Nodding, Maddie put a supportive hand on Jack's shoulder and continued awkwardly. “He's right, as soon as we recovered from the shock of what had happened to you we immediately went looking for you but you had already collapsed somewhere. Jack was heartbroken and didn't understand what went wrong with the portal. I tried to find out too but it was no use, whatever happened fried the wiring and-”

Cutting herself off as soon as she realized she was going off on a tangent when their friend's well-being was much more important, Maddie dropped her hand from Jack's shoulder and asked with a sad smile, “How're you feeling? Have they been taking good care of you? I tried to explain your condition to the doctor but...they didn't believe me about it being related to ectoplasmic energy.”

“Why would they? As far as they're concerned ghosts don't exist,” Vlad replied with a guarded expression, unwilling to admit he tried to do the exact same thing only for his arguments to be thoroughly dismissed since he's not a doctor. “As for the rest they're...doing the best they can I suppose.”

An awkward silence filled the room since none of them knew what to say after that, but then, Jack spoke up and said, “Vladdy? Um, I know it's a bit squished but I made this for you. It's...my way of saying sorry for everything. I should have listened to you and Mads when you told me to stop.”

Reaching into one of the many pockets of his jumpsuit which according to Jack was handed down to him by his grandfather and designed after an outfit one of his ghost-hunting ancestors wore, he handed Vlad what appeared to be a misshapen block of homemade fudge. The gesture might not have seemed like a big deal to anyone else, but for Jack who absolutely loved the stuff and couldn't help himself from eating almost all of it himself in one sitting whenever he made or bought it, however, the fact that Jack was sharing an entire serving of it just for Vlad really was his way of showing his sincerity. Similarly, Maddie reached into her bag and pulled out a couple of her ghost folklore books for him to read since she figured Vlad must have been bored laying in bed all day.

Vlad was at a loss for words because he had almost given up hope that they'd ever come visit him, hope that Jack would own up to his mistakes for once and apologize. But since he did, Vlad couldn't stay mad. He wanted to, but couldn't, not since this forgetful yet earnest man had gone out of his way to finally come see him. The same goes for Maddie, Vlad was sure she felt guilty too for not stopping Jack in time since she's always been the more careful of the two when it comes to their experiments...

Accepting their gifts but resisting the urge to wipe the tears from his eyes since his face still hurt, Vlad held them in his lap and sniffled, “Thank you. Thank you both for coming. I...was afraid you had abandoned me.”

“Come on V-man, give me a little credit,” Jack smiled, gently punching Vlad's shoulder. “You're my best friend! I know I can be careless and stupid sometimes, but friends have to stick together through thick and thin don't they? We'll get through this together and then maybe we can try again with the ghost portal. We were so close!”

Grimacing at the thought of going anywhere near that portal again, Vlad was relieved when Maddie interjected and said, “Jack, don't forget that it's our fault this happened so before any of that we need to make sure Vlad's going to be ok. We don't know what that portal did to him and the doctors are only going to be able to help him so much. The best thing we can do for him is go back to square one and find out what we did wrong so it doesn't happen again.”

“Shoot, you're right. I'm sorry,” Jack apologized, looking dejected. “Don't worry Vladdy, I'll make this all up to you I promise! And we'll visit more too!”

Smiling weakly more because it hurt to move his face too much, Vlad nodded, “I'd like that.”

Soon after that, before Maddie could comment on anything else the nurse shooed them out so they could get Vlad ready for his next check up. But as soon as he was alone again Vlad reached over to set the fudge and books on the desk next to him when they unexpectedly slipped through his fingers. Blinking in confusion but brushing it off as clumsiness, he sighed and swung his feet over the bed so he could bend down to pick them up again. This time though, when he reached for them again they didn't just slip through his fingers as a figure of speech...they LITERALLY passed through them! Alarmed Vlad recoiled from both objects, his heart racing when he mustered the courage to look at his hands only to find they were translucent.

Realizing his sudden spike in heart activity would alert the hospital staff Vlad concentrated as hard as he could to restore his fingers to a solid state again. It took some effort but thankfully he managed to pull it off. It was in that moment though that Vlad realized, for better or worse, his relationship with Jack and Maddie would never be the same again...

And neither would he.

~

Note: I normally don’t write fully-fledged story content on tumblr apart from headcanon ideas or sharing updates about new chapters for my fanfics, but since I had started this oneshot before my Good Vlad AU started to really kick off and wasn’t that far along I adapted it into a special oneshot about Jack and Maddie coming to see Vlad at the hospital after the accident. I always wondered why they never did and usually assumed Vlad turned them away himself (mostly Jack) along with the doctors and his friends eventually move on and kind of forgot about him for all those years.

Either way, I wanted to see what could have happened if they managed to fix things with Vlad sooner while still on somewhat good terms before that sense of abandonment and resentment for Jack could take root in Vlad’s heart. Hopefully that comes across here in this little story snippet! I might post this on my actual fanfiction account later but for now, it’s here for you guys especially!

[cafeinthemoon]

The Home I Crave - Chapter 5

Title: The Home I Crave

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Tobirama Senju x reader

Rating: teen and up

Word count: 2577

Chapter: /?

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 💛 | ▶️▶️

Read the previous chapter here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Thanks to Mito Uzumaki’s help, you’ve learned everything you needed to know to understand the daily routine of Konoha, though you’d only start to think of it as your home when you were at your own house, managing your own tasks – or so you hoped. You still had to think of how your life under the same roof as Tobirama Senju would be, and no matter the direction your guesses in this sense would take, they all led you to the same place: whatever it was expecting you there, it shouldn’t be less than a challenge.

During those days, with the work regarding the treaty, your communication with your parents, who kept you informed about everything that was going on at the compound (to whom you had to reassure about your well being in every message even when they had a brief conversation with Mito before they left) and the moments you’ve spent with Hashirama’s wife, you have been avoiding any question on this topic, only speaking about it when you were doing something directly connected to the ceremony, such as trying your clothing while the dressmaker made the necessary adjusts and to discuss the hair style. The messages from Tobirama’s part were brief and few, always directed to his brother and only to keep him in touch about the mission in the Land of Wind.

The first and only exception was the last one, which was written to you.

You received it from the Hokage himself, who took a moment at lunch time to leave the office and bring it to you. You startled when Hashirama offered you the roll with the message guarded inside a seal like an official letter. You read the writing on the seal and recognized the category used in the correspondence between your clan and its allies, including the Senju. You have opened this type of message countless times during your work as the head’s eldest daughter.

- I mentioned in one of my letters that you know how to break this type of seal, since you did it many times while working with your father – he explained – He must have remembered this detail when he decided to send it like this.

- I see – you mumbled, looking at the seal – Well, I would never expect him to remember something that was only mentioned once.

Hashirama smiled.

- You do not know him yet, y/n-san. To be honest, I myself didn’t remember it until I saw this roll. But my brother’s brain works differently.

You were about to ask if such measure was really necessary in this type of mailing, but then you considered Hashirama’s last words. You accepted the roll from his hand and put it on a small table close to you. Using the habitual hand signs, you broke the seal; a thin column of smoke covered the roll for an instant, then disappeared to reveal a common paper sheet.

You took the letter and found a steady, verticalized calligraphy distributed in three brief paragraphs, after which you saw his name written in a slightly wider style.

This was what you read:

To my betrothed, from the … clan:

Y/n-san, since this is the first time I write to you, it is only natural to expect this letter to be one of a particular nature, in which I would express my feelings towards our engagement and the perspective of returning to Konoha to finally meet you. However, the circumstances force me to write about a different topic. I hope you understand the situation and do not take it as a sign of discontentment or disinterest from my part.

According to the plans established between me and the Hokage, my return to the village was settled for tomorrow, but an unforeseen event will require my presence in the Land of Wind for a longer period, so that my stay here will extend for more three days. I have searched for all the possible alternatives to this problem, but the best arrangement I could get was this one. Considering the distance between the Land of Wind and the Land of Fire, the time our entourage will need to organize everything before the journey home and my personal preparations for the ceremony once we are back, our wedding will be delayed in at least … days. I apologize for this inconvenience, with which I myself am displeased.

Finally, I hope we make amends for this in the name of our clans and in an act of decency as shinobi allies during our encounter. I ask you not to reply this message, both because I will not have enough time to write you an adequate response and because I will send another letter with news if necessary.

Sincerely,

Senju Tobirama

You spent a moment in silence, staring at the paper, re-reading some parts of the letter, trying to absorb the message in it and all its undertones, just like you did when you talked to Mito, during the walking at the river and when you found the portrait. Still, the difference between all those signs and this letter – the first and only time when you saw him speaking for himself – couldn’t be denied.

You must have stood there, quiet for a long time, for Hashirama came to your side and asked you about the message’s content.

- Is everything okay with him? What does he say here? You seem worried.

You blinked and raised your eyes to him.

- He says that something happened unexpectedly and he will have to stay in the Land of Wind for more three days. The ceremony’s date will have to be changed.

You passed the letter to Hashirama, so he could see for himself. His eyes would go from one side to another, passing over the lines with gravity. When he finally looked at you again, you didn’t like what you read in his eyes.

- I didn’t sent him alone on this mission because I knew that this could happen – he sighed – I know exactly what he’s talking about, and despite being a complex task, any of the people who I sent with him could stay behind and finish it. They’re perfectly capable for this. But convincing my brother to do this is something I can’t do at this distance.

He gave you the letter back and you folded the sheet with a weight in your heart. The first letter you received from your future husband and the only thing he had to say was about a delay in your encounter. Not that you were entirely surprised – he was the Hokage’s advisor, after all; he was used to have many things depending on him. But couldn’t help thinking that this would be a constant in your life together.

You didn’t say any of this to Hashirama, though. When he asked if you were okay, you just smiled.

- Guess we will have to wait and see what happens. Let’s think of this as an advantage: we will have more time to prepare things here. If we consider that we haven’t had much of it, we cannot waste this opportunity.

The Hokage nodded.

- If you say so.

Hashirama didn’t say a word about it, but it was clear that he noticed your deception, for he looked at you as if saying he couldn’t believe his brother did something like that again. You decided not to concentrate in this, doing as you yourself just said and taking the extra time to work on the preparations for the ceremony.

***

Now, the day of the wedding came, you were dressed with the emblems of your clan in evidence, your hair was done and your face was covered with the delicate makeup you chose despite the protests of the girl who was responsible for it, who affirmed from five to five minutes that a bit more of color would sett off your naturally beautiful traits, only stopping when you told her that if she kept insisting on it, you would steal the brushes from her and do your makeup yourself. To you, wearing the vibrant tones of your clan’s traditional clothing was enough to set off anything in your appearance.

During the week before the wedding, your father sent an entourage with representatives who transmitted you the respects from himself, your mother and your other relatives: according to what was establish in the meeting, your parents stood at the compound to take care of their own work beside your second and third sisters. You knew that Tobirama would arrive at Konoha just the night before, and in fact he did, for a brief message was sent from his part thanking you all for taking care of things while he was away and explaining that he would need that night and the next day all alone to prepare himself, only meeting you, his family and the representatives of your clan during the ceremony.

At the Hokage’s residence, you had a brief exchange of words with Mito and Hashirama, after which the Uzumaki explained that she was going to take you to a private room where you would wait until the groom’s arrival.

- He will see you there and will be the one to lead you to the temple – she explained; and, with a clever smile – Don’t worry about the waiting. He’s not going to get late.

You looked from Mito to Hashirama, who was smiling too, and then back to Mito.

- My brother is too attached to punctuality to let himself get late – he replied to the question you didn’t make – I bet he’s still mad about what happened in the Land of Wind.

Mito nodded to show her agreement, then turned to you.

- So, I think everything’s ready. Shall we?

You shook your head instead of verbalizing a response. Finally, it came the moment.

Hashirama wished you luck and told Mito he would be waiting for her in the Hokage’s place at the temple. He approached her and gave her a kiss on her temple; you looked away in a gesture of modesty.

When he left, Mito asked you to follow her through less used corridors in her house, until what you found out to be one of the rooms you didn’t receive permission to enter. She opened the door, stepped into it and invited you in.

The room was not as large as the door suggested while you were outside, but it had a decent size and the simple furniture was well organized. At its north side you saw a window that would go from one wall to the other, and was low enough for the glass to reach your hips; there were no curtains to cover it.

You turned to Mito and found her still at the door. You came to her, not ashamed to confess how nervous you were.

- Time will feel like an eternity if I wait here all by myself, Mito-san – you commented, holding your hands together in front of your body – But I understand you have to go.

That time, she not only had a smile to you, but a tight hug and assuring words.

- Everything will be fine, because you’ve worked hard for this, y/n-san – she whispered – It is an honor to receive you as part of the family.

- Thank you so much for this – you returned the hug.

Mito Uzumaki said she was going to join her husband and wished you the best, leaving right after. The door was closed and you were left with only yourself to rely on while you waited.

You were about to move away from the door and back to the window when your eyes caught something unusual on its polished wood. You looked closer at it and identified a pattern of signs that formed a seal. You’ve never saw that seal before, and neither you were able to tell to which category it belonged, for it was nothing like the seals you knew. Could it be a protection seal that would only allow the right people to enter the room, or something else?

You raised your hand to touch it to see if something would happen, helping you to find an answer. Your fingertips passed through the marks, but there was no texture, temperature variation or anything that asserted their existence besides the fact that you could see them, as if they were just part of the door. Maybe if you were a sensor, you could identify the presence of chakra in it, but unfortunately for you, that was out of your reach.

- This is my Hiraishin mark.

You screamed so loud that you weren’t sure if what scared you most was that deep voice speaking out of nowhere or your own with the scare. You moved away from the door to the other extremity of the room, throwing a kunai you were hiding under your sleeve at the voice’s direction, but gave up on an attack once you saw the owner of the voice – he was the man of the portrait, with his white hair and the red lines on his face, but dressed in the Senju fashion instead of the blue armor. Upon the left side of his chest, between the folded fabric of clothing, he carried a tiny, white flower. He had no difficulty to deflect the blade: he moved his head from its way, grabbing the weapon’s base with his left hand.

You spent the next instants in silence, waiting for your breath to return to its normal rhythm, just staring at him, who had his last word swallowed by your scream and gave up on whatever he was going to say after it: after approaching you and giving back your kunai, he just kept looking at you, only then understanding that his sudden appearance inside a room with its door closed would scare anyone inside it.

So, that was your betrothed. That was Tobirama Senju. It was as Mito told you: if the date she gave to the portrait was correct, he haven’t aged a day. He was almost as tall as his brother, and the paleness of his skin wasn’t just an impression produced by the lens; it was his natural tone.

He wasn’t scared or bothered by your reaction; he didn’t even startled, confirming the idea you had about his unusual self control. The only thing you noticed in him was a hint of disappointment, which was soon explained by his next words:

- As I was about to say, this is the seal of my Hiraishin – he approached the door and touched the mark – It is a teleportation jutsu that I created some years ago. I have put it here to prevent a delay in our encounter – and with a sigh – I’ve talked about this measure with my brother, so I thought you were informed about it. But as I can see, he forgot to mention it to you.

Tobirama bowed his head at you in a brief but respectful gesture.

- I apologize for my sudden entrance, as well for my brother’s lack of attention. This is far from what is expected from a decent first meeting. Now, let me introduce myself properly – and raising his hand to his chest, right below the flower – I am Tobirama from the Senju clan, the Hokage’s brother and advisor, and the representative of the Senju in this new alliance between our clans.

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Top five fanfics?

Oh fuck (gets shot)

Well, I shot myself in the foot with that one.

Keep in mind, these are in no particular order, and I'm a bit of a pleb when it comes to reading fanfic. I just tend to like what's popular or stuff written by my friends.

I need to give Height Treason by @wholesomeklei a huge shout-out.

I'm not sure if this fic will ever be continued or not. Last I heard of Klei, they had a cancer scare (it wasn't) updated a chapter about Sizz-lorr and then vanished from the internet entirely. I hope they're taking a much needed break from online stuff and nothing bad happened to them.

But anyways, I can not thank Height Treason enough for existing. It gells with the humor of canon so seemlessly it feels like I'm watching an "Invader Zim after dark" show. Yes, even despite the not safe for work canon.

I love the lore they weave and I'm always a fan of "zim finds out the truth of his mission and schmoops and gets revenge on the Irken empire" stories. Also Pining Zim has my whole heart.

And it even paints side characters with much love.

Membrane tries his best and sucks at parenting and it inspired me greatly for how I write and came to understand Membrane as a character.

Miss Bitters is a delight. Sargent Slabrankle gets a cameo. Tak's ship has an existential crisis. Gosshloog gets an entire chapter about a spicy love afair with his boss. Zim's Computer is his usual sassy self and has ackward conversations with a frustrated teenage Dib.

Like the love for the side characters is amazing.

Height Treason was the fanfic that inspired me to write an entire fanfiction based on Computer Brain lore.

The lore is amazing, it's in character and this fic inspired me SO MUCH and is the reason that Tech Support (and the Brainbrane fic by extension) even exists.

I've probably reread this fic over twenty times.

However, I can't link the fic here, since it's VERY nsfw. As in, explicit sex scenes later. (The chapter where zim learns sex education is great)

So I can't link it, but it's easily searchable on A03.

If you're of age, and don't mind nsfw I highly recommend it.

Honesty Hour by @patchworkpoltergeist is one of those new fandom classics.

Like I don't even know how describe this fic.

Honesty Hour chills me to the core and has me looking at my ceiling for hours on end questioning my own existence.

Like it's Zim gets therapy, but in a psychological horror way.

Patch is a master wordsmith and just has a way of describing things. Everything is in the details.

I just love how Zim thinks and that half the time I don't know what's going on as much as Zim does. Which is honestly more scary then I think.

There's lots of details that I miss and usually after talking about the chapter with Patch or the Moo-ping10 gang, I realize "oh fuck that's what happened?! The hell"

Anyways. I fear and look forward to every update.

But I honestly have to run a mental health check before I even attempt to read the chapters.

Emotions, Cryptids and the possible end of the world series by @bamsara

I feel Bamsara does onto theirself and I don't need to sing her fics praises but I will.

I am a bit behind on my reading, cause I haven't read the latest chapter of Galaxy Days yet.

But I love the casual yet feral friendship Dib and Zim have built throughout this series.

There's just a constant yearning throughout the whole thing, and the two boys are at the center of it all. Like the feeling of a real long road trip with no destination in mind. That's often what these series of fics feel like. There's an underlying tenderness and longing but also something dark and sinister. A lot of moments stay in my head for days after the fact. Not just the cryptids of the fic, but the smaller moments. Zim and Dib having breakfast in France as the sun rises, Dib crying his eyes out in a dingy motel room near the beach, Zim breaking into Dib's hospital room in the dark, Dib attacking Zim in a fit of insomnia hallucinations....

The list goes on.

There's plenty of good moments, and I've even drawn Zim giving Dib space (cause that's the fucking gayest romantic thing and I still lie in bed thinking about it)

Also Dib constantly running into Death's arms and Zim often doing fisticuffs with her and both getting stupid trauma over stupid decisions is very good.

I feel a lot of Sara's soul in these fics and it shows. Especially with how Dib is written and I can tell this is an extremely personal project with passion behind it and I can't help but admire that.

Every star another sun series by @dionysuscrysis

I really love this series. The end.

Okay, unfair.

But Dion's series really needs more views and appreciation.

I like how it just skips over the "zim and dib become friends somehow....realizes mission is fake..yadda yadda" part of the story and just jumps right into the thick of it.

Space Adventures! Wooooo!!!!

A giant sandworm, a Battle Zoo!!! An alien spa, badass good guy Skoodge, and mad max style sci-fi racing.

And I'm glad that Dib is already in his early twenties here. And Dib is just so smart with machines and not a complete lost duck in space. He's sharp as a tack and dumb as an ox this boy and I love him very much.

Lol I'm old. I'm sick of seeing teenage drama sometimes.

And I can also feel a lot of Dion's soul in their fics.

Lots of hurt comfort in here....

It's actually kinda like the Bamsara effect in reverse...

Instead of Dib throwing himself head first into danger...

Zim is the one doing it.

And Dib thinks an appropriate way to fix this is throw himself at the same danger.

Idiots.

Help them.

Parade of Indignities by @rissynicole

Finished recently and since then my heart has never known peace.

It's one of those fandom classics that I ended up reading due to Bamsara's fic recommendation list like roughly two years ago.

Rissy has a way with words and their strengths lend themselves to action scenes extremely well.

Zim finds himself critically ill and it's up to Dib to travel back to irken space to save him.

Thats the basic premise but there is so much more.

A conspiracy, involving the other Invaders, Zim's massive wall of denial, and how everything Zadf happens from Dib's perspective.

I remember reading all the available chapters (like 15 of them) all in one night until 5am the first time I read it.

It's a master suspense and thriller story and I enjoyed it very much.

I still have to leave a huge comment.

Also honorable recommendations:

@melodyofthevoid 's Royalty AU.

....just. it good. Save these kids.

And ofc me and @paketdimensioncomic 's collab fics:

"Jerking around the House" and "Membrane's guide to be a better parent, lose your fucking arms"

You're a delight to work with and I love how your writing style compliments my insane ramblings so they're less wordy.

Also gotta give a shout-out to my Baby Tech Support.

Is it vain to plug your own fics? Maybe.

Do I care.

Nah.

I love my stuff. And I'm glad others do too.

[ddarker-dreams]

Levi Ackerman x Reader hcs. [COMM]

a/n: i haven’t written for levi in many years!! some lock lore is that i used to write for him the most, it’s actually what got me into fanfiction/anime in the first place back in 2012... so it feels very nice to write for him again. i had a lot of fun with this! :’) word count: 2k. warnings: non explicit mentions of death (not involving reader), just canon typical stuff.

Love has been a concept that remains closed off in Levi’s mind. Getting close to others is already a risk too great in the world he’s come to know, a factor that’s proven unfortunately true time and time again. When you’re close to others, it means the possibility of being hurt by them all the same when they inevitably leave. The pain of losing another he’s grown attached to outweighs the possible benefits that could come with a closer connection. This philosophy has ensnared his heart, creating a barrier that no one dared slipping past for many years.

Even though Levi makes the choice to be wary of growing closer than necessary to people, he also understands the importance of trusting in his comrades. He has his own way of mentally assessing new recruits, and didn’t think much of you initially. You were a fresh face, who hoped that your efforts would cultivate humanity’s future. He’d seen many with that spark too many times to count. All of them ending up killed in gruesome ways, or losing the shine in their eyes should they live past another expedition. Though he still has an inherent respect for anyone willing to put their lives on the line for the Survey Corps, this extending to you as well.

His initial assessment of you was proven incorrect. While no longer as naive to the horrors of the outside world, the spark inside of you remains ever bright. There’s determination, that has only grown in strength as time goes on, rather than fading away. It catches his eye, to say the least. He looks after you from afar, without even realizing it. Levi tells himself that it’d just be a shame if something happened to you. He doesn’t think anything beyond that for some time, for his own mental well being.

Your relationship starts off with no romantic intentions. Levi spots you training on your own one day, even after a grueling day of menial work that comes with being a member of the Survey Corps. He’s captivated, unable to look away from your form. It’s sloppy, he thinks, but not hopeless. You’re not hopeless. It doesn’t sound like a high compliment, but coming from him, it’s meaningful.

It’s startling when he approaches you for the first time. He’s pointing out the numerous errors in your stance and what to do to correct them, never mincing his words. Levi’s standing there, arms crossed, willing you to continue with his input. While being under the scrutiny of humanity’s strongest soldier is anxiety inducing, his advice works perfectly. He doesn’t comment further than that, turning on his heels and leaving you to your thoughts and confusion.

Keeping your body in the best possible condition is vital to staying alive. His advice, though delivered in sharp as knives critiques, serves you well. Even just the bare minimum has your technique rapidly improving. This motivation to keep growing and learning is what drives you. Levi continues to watch from a safe distance as you spend hours doing different exercises, developing your abilities. From this point on it becomes something of a tradition, as much as he tries not to think of it that way. There’s a level of subconscious attachment that comes with looking forward to seeing you improve every evening. He’s acknowledged you. 

You start training together. It’s not everyday an opportunity to learn under Levi is offered, so when the hand was extended to you, you accepted it. He’s a tough yet fair teacher, offering praise only when he believes it’s deserved. Unfortunately, he can’t devote that much time to your little evenings due to his other obligations. That makes the time you shared all the more special. Despite himself, he’s looking out for you, and you him. A solid relationship begins to form.

Levi isn’t the easiest person to be around. He’s surprisingly talkative if you get him speaking on subjects that interest him, but his language remains coarse. Once you get used to this side of him, it’s for the better, hours flying by and the night sky appearing before you know it. Unlike others that tend to get offended or avoid alone time with Levi due to his reputation, you remain constant. He never brings it up, though he does wonder why you’re hellbent on seeking him out.

There are still times where Levi holds an internal battle over the unfolding events. He’s starting to like spending time with you, more than just offering wisdom on various subjects he’s knowledge about. He genuinely enjoys listening when you speak, an honor exclusive to you. Through the snark and monotonous comments, there’s clear attachment. 

It gets to the point that his closer comrades even pick up on the unusual behavior, this level of respect typically reserved for no one other than Commander Erwin. Though Hanji is the only one to point this behavior out. Everyone else is too frightened at the prospect of teasing Levi over his not so subtle fondness for you. He really didn’t think he was being so obvious... 

You’re on his mind more than he cares to admits. His mind wonders to you at night, when he’s in town, or even when he sees something silly that reminds him of you. Eventually, Levi’s thoughts almost always connect to you to some degree. He’ll spot something in the windows of a shop and recall how you mentioned wanting something similar, or subconsciously look for your favorite food when walking through market stalls. The thought of giving you gifts is off putting for a while since it’s a clear sign of of tenderness. And dammit, he’s trying so hard not to become attached -- but who is he kidding -- it’s far too late for that.

What Levi is good at is making swift decisions in the heat of the moment, and combat. So he has literally no idea how to approach his developing feelings for you. There are a lot of impulses, such as complimenting you, but it comes out more like an insult than anything. God bless your soul, because you’re going to be putting up with lots of uncomfortable interactions. He’s trying, okay, but he doesn’t know the first thing about romance. 

How he best shows his care for you is helping around in various ways. It isn’t as embarrassing as having to offer compliments, or the other traditional ways of romancing the person you’re interested in. Levi commits to making your life easier in anyway he can. These things range from making sure your horse is in top condition, setting aside rations if he knows you’re too busy to get them yourself, and checking over your equipment personally. He presents all this by saying “You’re prone to making mistakes, so let me do it instead.” In reality he just wants to make life easier for you, don’t be fooled by the prickly comment. 

He isn’t blind to the other elements of his attraction to you. You’re always glowing, an angel incarnate, beauty enough to draw in practically anyone with eyes. It was enough to draw him in after all. The first attempts at physical affection are subtle, yet heartfelt. Sitting closer to you, thighs almost touching. Leaning in closer whenever you speak. Lightly brushing his fingers against his face, claiming he saw a spec of dirt on it. All these things to gauge your reaction and build up his own confidence in pursuing you further.

The first time you kiss would be the night before an expedition. It’s always the most gut wrenching experience, anxiety ailing you so badly that sleep refuses to come. The stars are out, not a cloud in the sky. Levi comes to sit by you, chastising you for not being asleep, and offering no rebuttal when you point out that he’s also awake. It’s a serene moment, neither of you exchanging words for some time, finding comfort in each others presence. You don’t even realize how close he is to you. He speaks, the words insignificant, you’ve already long forgot what they were. 

When your head turns to offer him your full attention, that’s when he leans in. A chaste kiss is pressed against your parted lips. It’s shocking to say the least, adrenaline pumping through your veins at the intimate moment. His lips are softer than you expected. He treats you with unprecedented delicacy, moving back to assess your expression through lidded eyes. When you’re willing to reciprocate he’s more than happy to let you have your way. 

Levi isn’t the best with expressing himself fully through words. His actions more than compensate for this, you’ll never doubt his dedication to you. There’s no need for flowery prose, not when he has proven the lengths he’d go through to keep you safe, bearing all of himself to you. Your relationship isn’t defined by strict terminology, as he admitted to finding stuff like that “a waste of breath”. You both wordlessly acknowledge one another as partners. Any keen onlooker might be able to pick up on this, you don’t hide or put your relationship on display.

It’ll take some time for him to grow more amiable to physically expressing himself. He’s aware of his own strength and intimidating disposition, and doesn’t want to mess what’s possibly the best thing in his life up. So you’ll need to lead in most of those areas. All physical affection is reserved for private moments. Aside from maybe him whispering a sly remark or two in passing. 

The affection he likes receiving from you the most would be: Complimenting his actions, when you lay your head on his shoulder, whenever you do little things to help him out without him mentioning it, and when you hug him. He’s never experienced being held by another human being. So when you do it for the first time, he’s taken aback by how pleasant it is. Your comforting scent, how your warmth envelopes him, and how he can feel your heart beating. It’s one of his favorite things in the world, other than you of course.

The type of affection that he gives you the most would be: Acknowledging your growth in different areas (especially if he knows you’re insecure in one of them), putting his hand over yours, reminding you to take care of yourself, and kissing you on the forehead. Levi is a very proactive lover. He’s got a keen eye, picking up on things about yourself before you even notice them. While he might not always have the most tact, everything he does for you comes from a wholesome place.

Levi remains serious in the public eye. But when it’s just the two of you, or the company is people he’s close with, he loosens up considerably. Most of his jokes go over your head, since he always delivers them with such a deadpan. When he gets you to laugh with his dry wit though, by god does it feel good, he could listen to your laughter forever. It might even make his face heat up. 

You’re capable of making him smile more than anyone else! Though it’s still rare, that just means that when he does, you treasure it all the more. He smiles the most when you lose yourself in conversation. Rambling about your dreams, stories from your childhood, frustrating encounters that you had that day... all of it warms his heart in a way he never thought possible. You’re an addicting ray of sunshine, that he’s hellbent on protecting. 

Levi knows, now more than ever, what he wants from the future. Alongside protecting and expanding humanity’s territory, it’s you that he wants by him, and no cost is too great to achieve it. He won’t lose you -- he’s already lost so much -- so expect him to be protective. There may be limits to what he can do, but they’re all arbitrary to him. Rules and morality mean nothing in the face of ensuring your safety, and he’s vowed this to you. That one day, you’ll have a secure future, forever tied to each other. He might not mention the last part as it’s embarrassing, but the general sentiment is understood. 

[bright-molina]

together

@jatp-week​ day two fanfiction prompt: write an au

synopsis: Your sister has been hiding more than a few things from you recently, it’s just not at all what you expect.

characters: Molina!reader (older sister, she/her pronouns), Julie, Flynn, the boys are all briefly mentioned

warnings: follows the themes of the show so there are mentions of death/dying but other than that none

a/n: I’ve been debating posting fics for Julie and the Phantoms for a week or two now and I figured I’d jump in head first for JATP week! Huge shoutout to @meangirlsx​ cause I know its been like a week since we talked about it but you’re a huge part of the reason I’m posting this! 

Lowkey tempted to do a part two cause there’s so much I wanna explore with this reader so thoughts and feedback are very much appreciated <3

A twisting feeling you absolutely despised filled the pit of your stomach as you marched straight through the halls of your sister’s high school. It started with an offer to pick her up and go get ice cream together as you usually did when one of you was feeling down. The fact that she’d been removed from the music program was definitely deserving of pick-me-up ice cream.

Can’t. Busy. Later? She’d responded within seconds and that in itself was worthy of concern. So you’d promptly left the last half of your own school day to go and see what was wrong. It was when you were pulling up to the school that Flynn had texted you, Jules is performing???? Text you updates…

“Julie,” Your voice caught her attention almost immediately, tearing her attention away from the singing coming from the front of the gym.

“Y/N?” She frowned and met you halfway, letting you wrap her in a hug. You being there was the last thing she expected. Her first instinct had been to want to tell you all about the boys. She hadn’t been able to though, not without worrying you. Not without figuring out an explanation first.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You could see the way her eyes widened and you let out a soft sigh. “Dad texted me about this morning and Flynn is the one who told me you were gonna give performing a shot again.”

“Oh that,” Julie relaxed upon realizing you weren’t talking about the same thing but she didn’t miss the hurt look in your eyes. The way you were pulling at the rainbow colored bracelet she’d made you years ago. The way that you didn’t look like your usual confident self and it was all her doing. “I was going to but -”

And then with the absolute worst timing possible the three ghosts she purposely hadn’t told you about flashed into the gym right behind you. Her eyes narrowed at them, not noticing the fact that you thought she was both speaking to and glaring at you. “What are you doing here?”

Julie had no clue who to focus on. A look of hurt flashed across your face, she noticed it right away, but then the boys started talking too and all she could do was look back and forth between all of you.

“Look if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine -”

“Who’s this?”

“I’m here now, though -”

“Wait the family picture!”

“So if you want I’ll stay to watch you sing.”

“That picture really doesn’t do her justice.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Julie’s glare turned impossibly harsher as she focused her glare on the boys behind you.

You, meanwhile, remained oblivious to the fact that she wasn’t talking to you. Admittedly you struggled to force the slightest smile onto your face. It was hard not to let it hurt you. The past few months had been complicated to say the least and now it seemed she was moving on without you. “Okay then, I guess. I’ll see you later.”

“No, not you!” Julie reached to stop you, pulling you so you were now on the opposite side of her as Luke, Reggie, and Alex. She ignored the rest of their comments and instead held one of your hands in hers. “I was just um, a little distracted. I’m really glad you’re here.”

You couldn’t help but relax then and give a more genuine smile, “Well I’m glad I’m here too.”

“Still up for ice cream after school?” Julie glanced behind you as the music ended but didn’t move from her place yet, still ignoring the boys telling her it was time from behind her. “I promise I’m not doing anything anymore.”

“Sure,” You laughed then nodded towards the stage at the front of the gym. “Now go blow everyone away.”

It was then that she nodded and left after giving you one more hug. Meanwhile you moved towards Flynn who immediately grinned and locked one of her arms through yours. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Of course,” She smiled before nodding encouragingly at Julie who had started playing a few notes while you gave her a thumbs up. “Hey, have you thought about moving home? I think Julie could really use you back right now.”

“Believe me I want to,” You gave a sigh and thought briefly of your own home. 

After your mom had died your Tia Victoria wanted all of you to move on quickly. Literally. You had noticed right away how much just the idea of leaving the house bothered Julie, Carlos, and your dad. Eventually you’d been the one to give in and accept moving in with her for the pure reason of giving them a break from her constant lecturing.

She meant well, you knew that. And really you did have fun with her and it was nice to have the connection between you grow stronger. But there were also days where all you wanted to do was cry and be allowed to remember. You missed being home more than anything.

“I just don’t know if tia would be too -”

You didn’t get to finish your thought. Before you knew what was happening a bright flash came from the front of the room and the music that had been coming from what you’d previously assumed was the gym speakers started coming from the stage.

Three boys now stood on the stage with Julie singing alongside her as they played. They knew every single word that was coming out of her mouth. Knew the song. Knew the notes. Knew everything.

You couldn’t help yourself. Slowly you walked towards the stage, taking small steps as you tried to figure out what was going on. As hard as you tried you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had seen these people before.

It wasn’t hard to notice the fact that somebody was staring, you could feel eyes on you before you saw them. When you finally looked at the person on the far side of the stage you found the source of the feeling. It was also then that you were positive you knew them, knew him. You just weren’t sure from where.

Then the twisting feeling returned and you felt more anxious than you had been before. Julie was happy. She was singing for the first time in months and all you could think about was the fact that it wasn’t you that had been able to get her there. On that stage she looked free and you were glad, you really were. But you still couldn’t help the voice in your head that kept telling you you’d done something wrong.

You were the first person Julie searched for after the song ended, momentarily ignoring the confused whispers echoing across the room. She found you near the back of the crowd, taking slow steps back towards the door. You knew her well, she knew that, but she could read you just as easily.

She could see the anxiety quickly building inside you as you tugged on the bracelets on your wrist again, identical to the ones she wore. Your movements were a little jittery and rushed as you held up your keys and nodded towards the door. I’ll be outside, she could see you tell her before rushing out of the gym.

*

“I’m sorry.”

Your words broke the silence that had fallen around you and Julie just an hour later. You’d been wrapped up in your own thoughts as you drove to the ice cream place you frequented then again as you drove to an empty field that was definitely worth the thirty minute trip.

Julie frowned, turning her head so she was looking at you instead of the clouds above her. “For what?”

“I promised you I’d be there.” You hadn’t looked away from the sky just yet. “I told you I’d listen when you needed me to. Support you no matter what it was you wanted to do. After mom died I promised we’d do all of this together and instead I left you alone.”

“Y/N -”

“And now you’re singing again, Julie, and god I’m so proud of you. And those guys, your band apparently -”

“They’re not -”

“I don’t know where they came from but they did what I couldn’t and actually helped you. I don’t know, I’m just sorry for leaving in the first place. I know how hard it must’ve been and I wish I could’ve -”

“Y/N!” It wasn’t until Julie shouted, sat up, and reached over to cover your mouth with her hand that you stopped talking. You stared at her for a moment, watching as she dropped her head and let out a heavy sigh. “They’re ghosts. They live in mom's studio.”

You sat up after her and she waited patiently as you processed what it was she was saying. Eventually you gave a single nod, “I don’t believe you. You sound like Carlos.”

“I swear!” Julie sat up straighter and slammed one hand down on the grass, leaning towards you a little. “And I can prove it.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Before you knew it, Julie was pulling you up from the floor and in the direction of where you’d parked the car. “Jules, where are we going?”

She stopped and shot around to face you, a newfound smile on her face. “To introduce you to my ghost band. Now come on.”

[meyeselph]

Gwenpool: Desperate Misanthrope's Confused Angst

Showtime

Ms. Pool woke up in a familiar room. Not in Krakoa - there are no mutants around. This isn’t a story about that. Look, honestly, without an actual Gwenpool series and the constant breaks in her comics appearance I can’t even begin to give a fuck. I cancelled my marvel universe subbie. I might get back to my stories but single issues are iffy. I read fast and don’t pore over the artwork. So I get 10 minutes of entertainment for….FIVE DOLLARS? When did this happen? Jeezus.

Who even reads comics anymore?

Anyway, long story short, Gwen got out of bed and recognized the room as her old one from the “old times.” The dark times. The ‘not running around in pink and white outfits and shooting people’ times. She panicked (Been there. It is what it is though). The only way out of trauma is through.

She dressed in old clothes, immediately hit by old smells, she couldn’t help but cry. Was it all a dream? Have I gone insane (again)? All the usual self doubts cropped up. I mean, really, if you think this kind of thing didn’t pass through her mind regularly why don’t you transport yourself to a comic book universe?

Oh, you can’t?

Oh. It isn’t actually possible for you and I’m stupid for suggesting it. So, yeah. If it actually happened and you kept that attitude then the logical assumption for a normie is a mental breakdown. Trick for Gwen, though, is it's probably always been both real and her being nuts.

So she goes downstairs to the kitchen to figure out why this is happening and Evil Gwen is having cereal. Let's say cocoa puffs. I’ve been thinking about those recently. You ever remember cereal as something worth cherishing. Not as just bullshit that TV convinced you to want? God damn, now I want Cookie Crisp. Cookie Crisp wasn’t even ever that good. Why do I want Cookie Crisp?

So also sitting around the table were the faceless versions of her father, mother, and her brother. Just chilling. No BD. Seen Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind?

Yes, I know that references aren’t jokes - fuck you, I’m painting a picture and I CAN’T PAINT, THAT’S WHY THIS ISN’T A COMIC. Fucks sake. Anyway. So, Gwen is so creeped out that she just sits her butt down by Evil Gwen as if she’s the comforting presence here.

Her name’s too long. Let’s call Evil Gwen uh…….Gren. You know, like Grendel from Beowulf. I haven’t actually read Beowulf and this is all a little confusing but I'm solving problems here. Writing this is harder for me than you would think so it’s best to keep things flowing off the cuff. That’s the Gwenpool™ style anyway, isn’t it? Are you laughing yet? IMPROV. “YES AND” MY SHIT, READER!

“So, you ever really look into the retconned past thing, hun?” Gren said, moving her tongue around her food. Being gross as an attempt to be properly evil. She swallowed before continuing. “This is all I could really put together on short notice but i’m pretty sure what the future people created, all that stuff to try and trick you, it was all bullshit.”

“What do you mean? Are you trying to convince me to go all psycho like you again?” Gwen asked, exasperated, realizing she was now back in the whole ‘fuck with Gwen to decide her fate’ song and dance routine from the end of her first arc.

“Nah, not really.” Gren said. A hammer appeared in her hands out of nowhere and Gren swung it into their fake father’s head, snapping his neck..

“DAD!” Gwen instinctively cried as she saw her father’s body slump to the floor. Gren slapped Gwen’s face. “That’s it,” Gren said, “this is what the trick was.This is a poorly created character in a fictional story. Meant to manipulate you into attaching your concept of “father” to it. Even his finished version in the original comics run wasn’t THAT well drawn. Your dad read like a boomer’s idea of a responsible parent. You were going through a mental crisis and struggling to find purpose in life and his genius idea was get a shitty low paying job and suck it up?”

Gren turned to their brother, pushed his face to the table and smashed the back of his skull. . “Brother dearest, too. Going right along with their victim blaming. He gaslighted you as if what you were going through was just you being ‘irresponsible.’ Bitch, people working a minimum wage job aren’t somehow not impoverished and miserable because they get some of that ‘honest work’ that folks keep badgering on about. Minimum wage work is occupied by many physically and mentally disabled people held hostage; they’re people society only pretends to care about. Then they turn it all into you acting like some world ending threat. No questions about what drove you to the edge in the first place. You are just ‘unstable,’ so you’re just a problem to be solved. They say, ‘Let’s all solve this girl being upset and on edge by ruining her concept of self, reality, and memory.’ Brilliant!”

Gwen barely processed this in horror. Gren then slit the poor facsimile of their mother’s throat while continuing to rant, “You see people die all the time, Gwen. Half of the time you are doing the killing. You do it because it’s in a story. In a story the NPCs don’t matter and, after all, your original schtick in the story was to be kill-crazy. The non-marketable characters can be replaced or retconned at the stroke of the artist’s pen.” Gren leans forward as she pulls a Gwenpool mask over Gwens face. “Then the writers convince you that you have some middle class milk toast family and you take abuse and subsume your emotional needs because the problem MUST be you. You aren’t ‘normal’ so you have to be fixed.”

Gwen wiped her eyes over the mask and sighed. A bit of fire filled her gut as she stared at Gren. “So fucking what? You want me to go on a killing spree and be a big time villain to get myself a nice, shiny permanent big bad status? That’s how I stay around right? Just build my legacy on bodies?”

Gren scoffed “You already lost that fight, girly. Where do you think we are? Because this ain’t Marvel Comics.”

Confused, Gwen blinked and tried reaching for the page margins, finding nothing. Wait….why was everything on this page so ill defined and undetailed? Wait? Why was the story in kinda wobbly third person past tense?

Gwen sighed “Oh. I’m in a fanfic. I guess the publishing fight is for another day eh?”

“My advice, personally,” Gren stated, “is that you consider the lobster.”

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Gren pulled aside the kitchen curtains revealing the face of a giant lobster, its claws tapping on the glass. The lobster muttering gutterally about personal responsibility.

“Because there’s a couple thousand giant lobsters outside that would like to claw you until you read their book.”

--

Scared of Girls

On the rooftop, Gren shoved a high powered rifle into Gwen’s hands while she handled the close range threats. So, this conversation they’re about to have is important. Sniping puts Gwen into a sort of zen space, so that’s a better task to keep her focused, after all.

“So, what? You wanted me to internalize that my “origin story” is bullshit? Okay, what does that accomplish, then?” Gwen asked in a bit of a deadpan. She was so tired today. Not really feeling her happy go lucky energy. More like a “happy go fucky” energy. It was hard to always be on a knife's edge. Still the rifle’s kick into her shoulder was satisfying as she blew through two of the creepy looking lobsters at once. “Also, why the lobsters?”

Gren considered this. “Okay, last question first, I had to experiment a lot and do a lot of research to construct this place for your learning and healing in fanfic form....These buddies are a failed experiment of mine that I repurposed because the fic needed more action. Isn’t that right, giant enemy crap?” As she peppers the nearest goon with a hail of shotgun pellets the entire throng of them burst out, sharply muttering about divine symbols.

“As for what I'm trying to teach you, it’s that you aren’t reaching your potential.” Gren grumpily huffed.

“Duh,” Gwen reloads, “I mean you just killed a mannequin version of the voice in my head that says that to me every day.” one of those crustaceans talks about feminine symbolism while she decides on her next target.

“Not like fake daddy’s ‘Be a responsible member of society by paying your taxes’ type of potential. I mean your creative and emotional potential.” Gren flipped off the slavering throng of monsters, noticing they were starting to keep their distance from the roof.

“I never did finish that fanfic idea I had.” Gwen mused.

“God, don’t mention that,” Gren thrusts a finger at Gwenpool. “Not that I don’t respect fanfic, but when comic book writers make you and Kamala squee about fanfiction to try and relate to “the kids” it comes across as so condescending.”

“Really? I mean…..I'm sure it’s meant as support for the concept?”

“Most fucking superhero comics are just legalized fanfiction! The people who created the characters are either long gone or working on someone else’s characters! They just think they are so much better because they got fucking paid. They can’t imagine themselves as on the same playing field as fanficcers even though most of them have the same level of connection to the roots of the work as anyone else.” Gren groused loudly as she seemed to pull Reed Richards out of nowhere.

Confused, Reed looked around until his eyes met Gwen’s.“Oh great, you again.” Reed groaned as he turned to survey the piles of lobster gibs while Gwen cheered the lobster forces’ retreat with a resounding “EDF, EDF!”. The scattered creatures skittered amongst the bland scenery. It looked like a suburban neighborhood but someone forgot to color in the sky….or write that the sky had color. A castle hung out in the distance breaking up the generic normalcy and lay cloaked in shadow despite being surrounded by an endless white void.

“And…..black….you?” Reed pointed to Gren, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I have an evil future self….well I stopped that future so it’s an….evil...alternate timeline self?” Gwen said with a nervous chuckle, abandoning the kill quest for the minute and rested her rifle on the roof.

“Ah. Yeah I’ve been down that road. It’s a rather common occurrence. Multiverse being what it is.” Reed laughed heartily while putting his hands on his hips.

“I’m not sure I’m evil, honestly,” Gren interjected. “I think I’m just really fucking grumpy and I’m slightly more gung-ho on the homicide. Considering Gwen’s already one of the more kill crazy characters on the roster it’s not that much of a distinction.” Gren flipped her cape. “My main distinction is I don’t like that meme from The Incredibles! You can just make it so the cape detaches automatically when it’s pulled hard enough!”

“You could still have it tangled up around your face.” Reed pointed out in his standard know-it-all fashion.

“Don’t make me go into fuck wife mode, stretch.” Gren spat. “Okay, anyway, so I brought him here to illustrate a point. Reed. Explain particle physics to me as a laymen.”

“Huh...i’m not sure why but okay. Particle physics (also known as high energy physics) is a branch of physics that studies the nature of the particles that constitute matter and radiation. Although the word particle can refer to various types of very small objects (e.g. protons, gas particles, or even household dust), particle physics usually investigates the irreducibly smallest detectable particles and the fundamental interactions necessary to explain their behaviour. In current understanding, these elementary particles are excitations of the quantum fields that also govern their interactions. The currently dominant theory explaining these fundamental particles and fields, along with their dynamics, is called the Standard Model. Thus, modern particle physics generally investigates the Standard Model and its various possible extensions, e.g. to the newest "known" particle, the Higgs boson, or even to the oldest known force field, gravity.” Reed rattled this off rather mechanically.

Gren then took out her phone and showed Gwen the Wikipedia article on “Particle Physics,” which is naturally the same words that Reed had regurgitated above, just without any formatting and, again, on a phone.

“Reed can’t be a genius in any subject unless he’s written by a genius in that subject. That’s how stories work. Everyone is limited by the understanding and capabilities of the writer. Same with your origin story and all the people you’ve interacted with. If you are as ‘meta’ as you think you are then you have to realize that you aren’t actually talking to people. You are talking to the writer. Dr. Strange didn’t rewrite your existence to be a part of the Marvel Universe. As far as most of Marvel continuity goes Dr. Strange was never there and doesn’t know or care about his MCU casting…..Hey Reed, buzz off please before the conversation pivots to why you haven’t cured all known diseases.”

Reed looked a little surprised but then pulled out a teleportation device (of course he has one) and blipped away with a shrug.

“How awkward is that going to be when he enters the MCU after Kamala is already introduced with a very similar power set?” Gwen chuckled.

“Keep up the way you’ve been going and you’ll never see it. I’m not exactly expecting a young blonde girl casting call for Deadpool 3 and that’s your best bet.” Gren snarked. Gwen winced with a sigh.

“I don’t get what I'm doing wrong. I have a fanbase comparable to some of the characters that have already shown up but I can’t even get comics written about me most of the time. An MCU push seems unlikely. They would literally have to deal with completely recontextualizing my powers and gimmick”

“Let’s ask her what you should do.” Gren motioned her way to the suddenly appearing long hair future Gwen, looming over them like The Attack of the 50 foot Woman for some reason. Dwarfing the roof they are on. Let’s call her BIGwen!

--

Gold Guns Girls

As BIGwen acclimated to her surroundings she stubbed her toe on a car, dramatically flipping it so that it took out a few more lobsters before caving in a nearby house. The lamentations about clean rooms soaring as the remaining couple dozen of them attempt to clean up some of the bodies of their fallen kin. The large and sort-of-in-charge Gwen hissed in pain and adjusted her boot. Getting her balance as best as possible she muttered curses that traveled rather well considering the lung capacity of a giant.

“You know,” Gren started, “I wasn’t expecting much from our previous uses of the ‘make her big for emphasis’ trick, but it really does only work as a vague ghostly background element. I didn’t just want it to be ‘oh, here's a third Gwen for the conversation, though. Would lack umph.”

“ Yeah, I get it, but staring at my own giant taint is unsettling.” Gwen muttered.

“I’d still, hit it.” Gren grinned, then immediately got punched in the arm. “OWWW! Look, I’m the evil one here and we’re in a fanfic. I’m allowed to make internet fetish jokes.”

“And I’m allowed to hit you for it.”.

“Dirty lampshading goody two shoes. Don’t act like half your fanbase isn’t thirsty. It’s “insert current year argument”, all art is sexy to someone.” Gren complained back,rubbing her arm before hopping off the roof. Gwen followed while listening as patiently as she could considering how many changes in topic her evil-caped self is going through to get to her point. “This chick is the reason you’ve been on the path of good girl. Some vague idea that in the future everything will work out for the best. HEY, DOWN HERE, BIG SHOW!” Gren waved at BIGwen and she looked down curiously.

“Yeah what??” BIGwen responded in a booming and agitated tone. Honestly, being in this fic made every version of Gwen a little grumpy.

“How’s she supposed to be a popular hero that makes it into the MCU and has a stable publication history?” Gren asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Came BIGwen’s response. “Have you tried growing your hair out?”

“Rub it in,” Gwen muttered under her breath, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of depressed now.” Gwen said as she sat on an abandoned car.

Gren hopped on the roof of the car, patting Gwen’s shoulder before squatting with enough force to flex the car’s shocks like a rocking chair just to amuse herself. “Future “good” Gwen wasn’t an actual plot point, it was a call to action to the fans to make fanfic like this and support the character outside of the actual Canon. Chris didn’t trust that Marvel would treat the character right. That, and your obsession with getting a new book, are both the writer’s attempt to turn a marketing tactic into fan engagement. If you want to be real then that makes the fans want you to be real even more, too.”

Gwen sighs heavily and leans her chin on one hand. “I mean...the time traveling through the life of an NPC fan complete with a Never Ending Story reference was a bit sappy even by the standard we sometimes set...damn it it really was just kind of a fan manipulation trick wasn’t it?”

BIGwen Sat down on the street next to them and crossed her legs. “Hey, little me. Don’t get too down. I mean it worked for the most part. You have a healthy cult following. Characters have survived on less and there are worse things to be known for then as a fan first character”

“But I have to fight for attention all the damn time, though. It’s so easy for Wade with his fucking meme bullshit. He even gets runoff enthusiasm from me. Jeff the land shark is all over Oldpool online” Gwen felt rather heavy and tired all of a sudden. Marvel editorial forcing a gun to your head is not a fun way to be.

“All that fight is hell on the fanbase too.” Gren sighed. “Advocating for shit, getting crumbs and being expected to accept it while Disney lavishes all the attention based on some bullshit numbers game. Even if you make it into the MCU will it be a Batroc style cameo with obligatory ‘killed off in case we don’t feel like paying the actor again later.’ Will it be an emotionally rounded character or an ambush bug style joke? The thing is. You're Not the one fighting and you never were.”

“The fuck do you mean?”

“This version of her doesn’t know?” BIGwen whimpered.

“You aren’t real, Gwen.”

--

Head Like a Haunted House

“No….we aren’t having this conversation. Fuck you fuck you i’m not a fucking Nihlist and i’m not going to do this right now.” Gwen said as she scrambled off of the car and pulled out some guns. BIGwen then picked her up off the ground.

“You need to hear this, Gwen,” BIGwen boomed. “The gimmick has run its course. It’s fucking with your canon. You’re never going to be a marketable character keeping up a half fourth-wall Kayfabe”

Gren climbed onto BIGwen’s Shoulders and perched over Gwen all menacing like. “You need to listen. I’ve been trying to ease you into this. Making things more meta slowly until you were ready but it was never going to be easy.”

One of Gwen’s guns was fired from it’s holster and pierced one of BIGwen’s fingers. BIGwen screamed and her grip loosened. Soon Gwen was on the move running up her arm and firing at Gren, who dodged like the nimble and cute badass she is. “Don’t do this Gwen. Just because it doesn’t matter to the comic version of you doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m a real person god damn it! I read the comics out there! I came in! That’s why I know shit I shouldn't know. That’s what I am! THAT’S ALL I AM!” Gwen shrieked as she pulled out a sword from hammer-space and decapitated BIGwen. Suddenly a mess of colored streamers and a pile of Mickey Mouse merch tumbled out. Look, I am busy right now. Gwen is still slashing at my ass. I'm not going to explain it.

For some reason now the remaining lobsters were helping Gren. For Gwen’s own good you understand. This is proof that I’m right for some reason.

Gwen pulled out a revolver, firing pumpkin sized holes in lobsters who were still wailing about self actualization. She fully planned on shoving a sword up her evil self’s ass and getting rid of this doppelganger shit for good. Which is total bullshit by the way. She totally just cut off Gren’s leg because what the fuck you mean I’m not real? I’m going to be real all over your corpse.

Gren didn’t really think that was even a good comeback and also thought you should probably say it instead of meta willing the smack talk into existence, otherwise this fanfic is going to read like trash. Also, Gren’s leg wasn’t actually cut off. In a puff of smoke it is revealed that the cut off leg is a log and her leg is fine. Gren is a ninja now, believe it.

Gwen proceeded to do a sick ass CQC judo throw on Gren and then grab her cape and wrap it around her face like Reed suggested. Callbacks for the win! Callbacks to Checkov’s gun ideas always lead to victory in fights! She then totally shot at her and such.

But the bullet was caught by the cape because the cape was a symbiote! That’s right Gren is also GRENOM!...boy that sounds stupid. Anywho, the cape was no longer around her face and the fight continued and Gren now ALSO had extra powers and special wizard-symbiote armor (that would only show up in the MCU version if Marvel finally got the Sony characters back). The meta powers work like shit in text but this would be really good in CGI or animation if Marvel wanted to adapt this fic and give the writer lots of money. Gren still has more experience with them, though, and Gwen can’t really just kill her way out of this fic so she has to just let the story play out.

…...eh?....oh Gwen’s crying. I love/am you girl but we gotta work on the crying. Fucks sake this is harder than I thought. I’m depressed now too. Well I'll try to get the writing back on track so you guys can see what is going on. Even the lobsters are minding their manners now. Chill vibes, guys.

“The marvel character page for Gwenpool says, and I quote:

Gwenpool arrived in the Marvel Universe from the “real world,” but has wasted no time in making the most of her time in her fictional universe. Using her knowledge of comics to her advantage, Gwenpool causes and solves problems for her fellow heroes.”

Gren drags a lobster corpse slowly toward Gwen and sits on its tail as she talks to her. Taking her time to really scrape the lobster against the ground, smearing the gore on the pavement. Not that it was heavy for her or anything. Totally still has that symbiote, which would make moving it easy. Totally wasn’t a detail added in the second revision of the fic slightly before the lobsters were added.

“The words “Real world” are in quotation marks in that wiki. Real people don’t make it into comics because fiction isn’t real. Half of your versions barely make use of the ‘real person’ gimmick because it’s too meta by half and not every writer wants to waste time justifying it. So they just treat it like Deadpool’s medium awareness. Which it mostly is.”

“I really am just a fucking rip off distaff character.” Gwen moans. “Just a Gwen combined with a Pool. I’m worse than the Batman who laughs. I never mattered because I was never real”

“Fuck don’t say that. You were made with love and care by a team of creators who took a weird offshoot idea and built out a compelling metafiction idea and a likeable protagonist off of it. They just didn’t have the time and foresight to go far enough.” Gren sighed.

“Far enough?” Gwen sniffed as she was pulled up to her feet and dragged toward one of the big castles. As they walked Gren kicked along a Mickey Mouse doll that had rolled out of BIGwen’s severed head. Every time it bounced it cheerfully said ‘hahah. I love you!’

“Too much haha, not enough trauma. You’re not just a joke character.” Gren said as she kicked the Mickey doll into the big front door of the castle. The shadowy thing of course lighting up and being all fantasy and shit as the door opened.

“Well I did end both of my comic runs pretty mopey.”

“Damn right you did. When the jokes run thin they run to your real bread and butter. You’re an empathy machine.” As Gren shoves Gwen through the gate they are swallowed up in the castle, going dark again. “Let’s getcha sad clown on.”

--

Never there

“See, what evil me should have been telling you about in the original run is how to find meaning and purpose when technically nothing means anything. Comic book characters live in a world without real death and suffering. It’s all a puppet show version of real pain and real emotion meant to bring that out of an audience.” Gren opined as they walked through a black void to a couch floating in a nothing area lit only by the static of an old TV.

“Can we turn on a light?” Gwen asked as she sat on the couch. Gren sat on another recliner that suddenly appeared and put her feet up.

“Fuck off. Ambiance is a thing. We aren’t having a ‘lights on with something fun on the TV’ conversation. So look, I am not really ‘evil gwen.’ I’m half an author insert and half a plot device. If we are talking about the reality of the story you are basically talking to yourself. I am speaking about the things you don’t want to admit to yourself. You know, you’ve seen this kind of story sorta... right?” Gren picked up the remote and frustratedly changed channels between a bunch of vaguely illustrative footage on the TV, not finding anything that worked. A lot of black and white footage of trains for some reason. Just what comes to mind when I think of documentary footage? Weird.

“I am not sure how to illustrate this shit visually and this is a text story anyway so I would have to explain the illustration,” Gren griped.

“I basically get it. It’s not that uncommon a trope.” Gwen nodded.

“Because of the level of meta we are on right now we have to really acknowledge that you are basically an author insert, too. I mean, to a certain extent every version of you is more the writer that is working with your character at the time than a set character.” Gren said as she settled on a visual of Gwen being pushed out the window by her own narration text in the original comic run. When all else fails, resort to footage from the last story. That way people can look it up online!

“Right here is where the character crystallized in the mind of the author of the current fic we are in. A vague suicide metaphor wrapped up in the flavor of self destructive escapism. Your parents in the story thought it was a suicide attempt on at least some level. This is serious business. Not just a girl who doesn’t like work and can’t finish her fanfic. In this comic you are built on this understanding. The writer of this fic has ADHD and autism. So his version of you more or less has it, too. Writers bring themselves with them into their work.”

Gwen nods and takes a deep breath. “I….I can feel it. Like the world is closing around you. You aren’t built for anything that anyone wants from you. The one thing you really believe in, the one thing that really defines you, the stories in your head…..it’s just not enough.

You can’t trust you’ll ever make it with writing because you can barely write. You barely have the energy to do anything but wish that you weren’t you. What if someone actually listened? Actually believed in you and whisked you away somewhere else where the world would fit your needs? What if you were someplace you could be someone else, someone strong and confident?”

“Yeah. Like a funny anti hero in a comic for instance.” Gren nodded. “But the original comics sort of left the theme on the table. They were captured by the misconception of Gwen as the problem and not a person who needed help. All that desperation that real fans of the character might feel just bundled up into love for this character that really ‘gets’ them but Marvel doesn’t ‘get’ the character. They won't use her. They won’t go past vaguely gesturing at her mental issues and moving on. They saved the angst for Wandavision.” Gren scoffs.

“I mean the show was okay but they literally have a character built entirely on the theme of escapism and trauma. One that’s custom built for mind-screw visuals and reality bending plots and they think she’s just a lazy fangirl who really likes guns that they can sit beside Deadpool sometimes and stick in the X-Men’s bloated background character roster when they don’t need her.”

Gren leads Gwen off the couch and deeper into the void where a door to a bedroom waits. A room like her own, absolutely slopping over with old toys of comic book characters. An unclean messy space in a run-down house that smells faintly of cigarette smoke. Huddled in bed, reading an 80s era X-men comic with a flashlight, is a 12 year old Gwen.

“This is never going to be canon but this is the version of Gwen in this fic. She can’t stop crying at school. Things that shouldn’t be hard are so hard and she can’t explain why. Everyone says she’s making excuses. Meanwhile her mother is fucked out of her mind on pain killers and her step father killed himself last year ‘cleaning his gun’ while drunk. You know exactly what is on her mind right now?” Gren says as she gestures at the girl.

“I wish the superheroes would save me from this.”

“They won’t. They can’t. They were never meant to.” Gren Slams the door loudly on the scene.

“That is the emotional core of Gwenpool in this fic. The desperation that so many of the fans down here in the fucking muck of the real world feel. Poor and emotionally unfulfilled. Confused and vulnerable. If Disney and Marvel gave two fucking shits about people like that they wouldn’t waste as many stories as they do. They wouldn’t just use untold wealth to make expensive escapist stories with the military. Their gestures toward progressive ideas that they occasionally make in their stories would be THE ENTIRE POINT of their stories and the actual thing they used that money for instead of lobbying the government to keep Mickey Mouse out of the public domain.

“Disney has the power yet they save a fucking miniscule fraction of who they could. Saving people doesn’t make money.”

--

When I Get To The Green Building

Gren stormed through the void. The scene disintegrated around her as Gwen followed. Both now in a bit of a sour mood but with newfound determination.

“Come to think of it. Why is the fucking Hulk getting to fight for social justice in the comics? Why are they making a gay alternate universe Captain America? Why are they grasping at straws so hard to find characters that get to advocate and I am just sitting on a fucking island being grumpy?” Gwen groused. “I’m pretty sure I’m pansexual….at least in this fic. I could advocate for a bunch of shit at once.”

“You have a youth fanbase, a unique story and you technically aren’t an alternate universe version of fucking anything no matter how many people still think you are a Stacey. They made a fucking ‘for the fans’ character and then neglected it. Presumably because some fucking money making metric didn’t pan out despite the comics just being an MCU test kitchen and IP farm anyway.”

“You’re a fucking check mark on a ledger. I don’t even know if anyone technically created Gwenpool as a whole and Disney/Marvel can give the character to whoever they want to do whatever they want completely separate from what the fanbase wants and needs because she isn’t established. The IP landlords have spoken. The fans haven’t risen to enough ‘buy my merch’ calls to action to invest more resources. So tease endlessly until that changes.”

“Gah. Now I'm actually as pissed as you are.” Gwen said as she started fiddling with her guns. “Who do I kill?”

“We can’t do shit. You’re not even a character at this point. You are a meme for an underused character.” Gren smirked all evil like. “See but that’s it. You aren’t just a meme. You’re a MEME.”

“Uhm...I don't follow.”

“Like the concept of Justice. Gwenpool is an idea. Defined entirely by how people who engage with the idea choose to engage with it. The IP law means Disney owns Gwenpool but they don’t own how Gwenpool is perceived. Just like we as a people decide what justice is through popular consent we also decide what Gwenpool is. You see they made a character for the fans…..in my opinion that means the fans can do as they like with it even if it makes Disney uncomfortable.”

“I mean they can’t even stop porn of their characters just because of the sheer volume of the problem. I suppose people could do whatever.” Gwen nodded.

“Exactly. So the fans should just fucking Occupy Gwenpool!” Gren said as she flipped her cape dramatically with a mad smile on her face. That’s right. She was Dirtbag Leftist Gwen all along!

“Squat on that IP. Make Gwenpool a mental health advocate. Make her an LGBTQ activist. Make her fight for social and financial justice so hard that Bruce Banner looks like a poser. Make her talk shit about politicians who put their career ahead of the people. Do all the shit that makes the comicsgate crowd sad. Keep politics in our stories! Rally around that pink and white ass so hard they have to notice and then tie it all to the fact that Disney has great power and with great power they take no responsibility for how shitty the world is.”

“ If they are going to fuck Gwenpool fans they gotta learn Gwenpool fans fuck back. We have already proven we can make all kinds of cool shit. Let’s get serious and make more, harder, faster! Get a hashtag or some shit. They can't DMCA all of us! GWEN IS OURS WE JUST HAVE TO REACH OUT AND TAKE IT. Then they either respect the character and her fans or they just hit a PR disaster.”

“Marvel/Disney neglects fan focused cult character themed protest movements. Proves they are only progressive when it makes them money. They’re so worried about Mickey ending up in the public domain? We’re the public domain! After our entire lives stannin their characters and buyin their merch building them from an animation house into a juggernaut they are just another weight on top of the boot on our necks. They have to take responsibility!” At this point Gren is pretty much ranting maniacally and neglecting the actual writing of the story so this is Gwen taking over to wrap up.

Guys I may not be ‘the real Gwen’ but really, isn’t the version of Gwen that actually came from the real world all of us? Isn’t Gwenpool really the Gwens we made along the way? We could easily bring a little heroism and chaos to the real world (at least to the internet) if we really tried. Put the fear of God into some IP landlords and fight for some cool people that society is screwing over, too.

Prove that even in the fandom abyss people aren’t as powerless as they seem. Use that internet comic fan mobbing for something besides giving Zack more money. Disney is gearing up for their next IP fight for Mickey in 2024. Seems like a fine time for IP themed protests. For now we just need to spread the word that our needs are more important than their profits.

It’s been real. It’s been long. It’s been a real long time coming…..

But I finally finished my fanfic.

See ya, true believers.

[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Nine: Letters, Lovers and Loyalties

A/N: This is the ninth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2185

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

Yet another letter dropped into the lap of Aria Dumbledore as she sat absentmindedly sketching. Dropping her quill back into the small pot of ink which balanced on the arm of her chair, a small sigh escaped her lips. She had been expecting another to arrive any day now.

Aria allowed herself a small glance in the direction of her desk where the ever growing pile of unopened letter sat gathering dust. Disregarding her drawing, Aria traveled to her desk, fingers fumbling with the edge of the envelope. Admittedly, Aria's mind had been focused on that small pile of letters the past few days, and consequently the man who sent them. She couldn't bring herself to reply to his constant inquiries, but she had considered there was no harm in opening a few of them. She longed to hear from him, though she had been in denial for so long now she wasn't sure what to expect from his most recent letters.

Waiting no longer she ripped the paper from its wax seal, her eyes quickly scanning every word on the page.

My dear Aria, Though I know you say you cannot reply to my letters, I write them all with the hope that you will find the time in your busy schedule to at least read them. As always things are quiet here without you. Too quiet. I miss your voice. I miss hearing you sing to yourself in the shower thinking no one can hear you, I miss hearing you hum as you wander aimlessly through the house, I miss watching you draw as I pose for you, but most importantly I miss holding you in my arms. I long for the end of the school year when we will be reunited and I will have nothing to miss except maybe writing these letters. I long for a response to my letters, my darling. I simply must know that you miss me as I miss you. In the mean time I will continue to write to you to keep myself distracted from everything terrible happening in the world, by simply thinking of you. All my love, S.

Aria couldn't help but feel a great pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach for ignoring the letters, but she couldn't bare the thought of reading them, while she was still coming to terms with how she felt when she decided to leave for Hogwarts. She knew immediately she would not be able to maintain a long distance relationship with him. Though he was the first man she had ever loved she had been too cowardly to confess her feelings for him in person, let alone on a piece of parchment. She knew she was a pathetic coward from the moment he told her he loved her and she could not find it in her to return the favour. Her cowardice was more than proven the day she left for Hogwarts. Aria had planned to break up with him, to avoid further heartbreak down the line. But she could not even find the courage to do that.

Instead she was living in denial. In her mind they had broken up, and refused to face up to whatever she was truly feeling until it was absolutely necessary. Her plan had been to distract herself as much as possible, suppress her feelings and just forget about the situation completely. And to be totally honest her plan had been working for her, with the exception of a few off days such as today. However when it came time to wake up and face the music she had no idea what her plan would be then.

Leaving the letter open on her desk she took a stroll around the grounds of Hogwarts to clear her mind. The time to figure out all of her problems was not now. She was still a young, carefree woman and she didn't want the burden of guilt stopping her from living her life however she so wished.

Arias walk led her to the village of Hogsmeade, and after working up a light sweat, the young professor opted to pop into the Three Broomsticks to quench her thirst.

Unsurprisingly for a late Tuesday evening the place was barren. Besides for a drunken wizard practically falling off his bar stood, a crazy witch whispering to herself and two well dressed men, sitting out of place in a side booth, the place was completely deserted. Planning to only stay for a pumpkin juice Aria took a seat at the bar and begun chatting to the same barmaid who had served her and Severus all those weeks ago.

"Busy night?" Aria joked, rolling her eyes at the drunk to her right.

The woman laughed in return, handing over a glass of pumpkin juice. "This is pretty much the standard, at this time." She shrugged, polishing off a perfectly clean glass, to keep herself busy. "That one over there doesn't even order anything, but its not worth the hassle kicking her out." She gestured to the old hag in the corner, her perfectly polished nails glistening in the dim bar light.

"I wish I could say I felt sorry for you, but a break away from the chaos that is Hogwarts is a slight relief." Aria sighed. She was still not used to being around so many people all the time having spent the past few years alone, besides her mother, she often needed time alone to breathe.

"Oh, then you must be new. I've had my fair share of lonely professors spend an evening behind my bar, and I usually remember who's spilled their whole life story to me. Though you do look familiar, what do you teach?" She finished up with her glasses, leaning her elbows on the bar to get a closer look at the younger woman, her breasts practically falling out her blouse.

"I'm just an apprentice for now. I'm the new Potions Mistress." Aria smiled, taking a small sip of her drink.

"Oh yes, now I remember. You came here with that Severus. He's not unfamiliar with our whiskey selection, if you know what I mean." Both women rolled their eyes in unison. "He doesn't seem to talk much though, I can't say I know anything about him. I must admit I was surprised to see him with a gorgeous young witch like yourself."

"You weren't the only one." Aria scoffed, finishing off her pumpkin juice.

"Well it makes a little bit more sense now." She laughed, a set of pristine pearly teeth emerging from her red glossy lips.

It seemed Aria was not the only one who had been admiring the woman's beauty, and almost right on cue the drunk decided to look a little bit more lively, demanding another pint. Reluctantly the barmaid obliged, shooting Aria an apologetic look.

Aria couldn't help but notice the gruff looking man practically throw himself over the bar in order to get a good gawk at the barmaids behind. The slightly older woman seemed unfazed by the mans actions, in-fact Aria wasn't entirely unsure she wasn't enjoying the attention. Choosing not to interrupt as neither party seemed to object to the altercation, Aria kept her mouth shut.

That was until the man's attention turned to her. The barmaid disappeared from view, presumably to refill the barrel the drunk had practically drowned himself in. "Haven't seen you around here before." He started harmlessly, though Aria did not miss the way his eyes seemed to scan the whole of her body.

"Just moved into Hogwarts, haven't seen much of Hogsmeade." Aria admitted, but made the conscious decision to turn away from him, hoping not to engage in any further conversation.

"You a friend of Ros'" He asked, intrigued, while downing a good half of his pint.

"Not really, no." Aria shrugged. "I didn't even know her name until just now."

"Rosalind Rookwood." He edged his seat closer to Arias. "Fantastic barmaid, though I wouldn't say it was her best profession." He winked.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Aria turned her nose up at the man, just praying he would leave her alone.

"Well, you know, bein' a barmaids fine an all, but it doesn't always pay the bills. Miss Rookwood's got her fair share of stories to tell, and not all of them her own." He laughed, the potent stench of his alcoholic breath suffocating Aria as he leaned in closer, wrapping a heavy arm around her shoulders. "If it turns out teaching isn't for you, just know you'll have a loyal customer in me." He hiccuped, his free arm, reaching down to stroke the woman's exposed thigh.

Instinctively Aria gripped onto his wrist, forcing it off of her. "What the hell do you think you are doing!?" Aria exclaimed, pushing the man away from her. "Don't you dare lay your hands on me again."

The drunk showed no sign of guilt or remorse, he simply chuckled to himself, revealing a shocking lack of teeth. Disgusted, Aria made to move but found herself cornered against the bar.

Fortunately the altercation had caused enough disruption to alert the two men having a casual evening drink. Instantly one rushed over to her aid, stupefying the old man. The second man followed suit and made it his business to remove the frozen figure from the bar.

"Are you alright?" The first man asked, his brow furrowing with worry.

"I'm fine, thank you for stepping in." Aria smiled, brushing herself down, as though she was riding herself from the drunks disgusting touch.

The man returned a boyish grin, his eyes bright blue and full of kindness. Aria had never seen anyone like him. His presence was almost cartoon like, with positivity radiating from him. Aria couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, her smile growing just by looking at him. His energy was contagious.

"Is... is there anything I can do to thank you?" She tried your shake herself back to reality though remained entranced by him.

"Nothing at all. I'm just glad I was here to help." He extended a hand, almost nervously, introducing himself. "Alexander Turner, pleasure to meet you."

"You too." Aria blushed, unable to break eye contact with the man, and was now incredibly aware of how dumbfounded she must look. "I'm Aria" She stuttered, the sound of his friend retuning sending her back to reality. "I apologise for staring, but I just can't seem to take my eyes off you, you have an enchanting aura about you. I'm sorry if I may seem a little strange."

"There's no need to apologise, I get it all the time." He laughed, though not arrogantly, it was sweet and innocent. "My mother's a Veela." He added, almost embarrassedly, upon noticing the slightly look of confusion appearing on Arias face.

The couple shared an awkward smile, both at a loss for words.

Alexander's friend passed by the pair silently, slapping him encouragingly on the shoulder before disappearing behind the bar, Rosalind following closely behind.

Aria noted the difference in both attitude and appearance in the two men, finally able to distinguish between the two. The friend was tall and broad shouldered, his hair messy though not long. He gave off a sort of American football, "bro", fratbroy vibe. In other words kind of arrogant and full of himself. Clearly he saw himself as the one in control. Alexander on the other hand was more slim, but not skinny. Tall but not lanky. Innocent but not naive. His clothes appeared similar to his friends but presented more neatly and well put together. She assumed he felt sorry for his friend, knowing his Veela parentage would gain him lots of female attention, and in return Alexander simply allowed himself to get pushed around to boost his friends ego.

With a roll of his eyes Alexander practically confirmed her theory and Aria couldn't stop herself from laughing once more.

Knowing that while Rosalind and 'Braydon'; as he turned out to be, would not be returning any time soon, Aria and Alexander chose to occupy one of the booths and get to know a little bit about each other, where Alex truly confirmed all of Aria's suspicions.

Upon Braydon's return, he flashed his rather large biceps, kissing each one in turn as he flexed them, before letting out a hearty growl, presumably this was a display of male dominance among his kind. His kind being; douchebags.

With another roll of her eyes Aria bid farewell to the men, thanking Alexander once more for his heroic rescue.

"How about a date?" Alex called nervously as Aria had just about reached the door.

"I'm sorry?" She replies, caught off guard.

"A date, here, with me. What do you say?" Aria shook her head unable to look away from that damn charming smile of his.

"I'll agree to a few drinks." She clarified. "Just send me an owl, you know where I'll be." And with that she disappeared once more down the path to Hogwarts, the grey sky above all the while threatening to rain down on her.

Taglist: @ayamenimthiriel @lizlil​

[innaminitus]

Praise

Pairing: Loki x reader 

Request:  loki smut where the reader is extremely timid and shy and he finds it endearing and also a bit of a turn on because it makes him feel that much more powerful when she blushes and has trouble making eye contact? also praise kink cause oof ps. i love love love your writing so much and this will probably be the end of me if you end up writing it (from anon)

and

The reader is super shy and part of the avengers. Loki thinks she’s cute so he’s constantly whispering dirty stuff he wants to do to her in explicit detail into her ears when he walks past her and he keeps doing this and she gets super pent up about it and then he does it one time and then she just grabs his collar and pulls him into a kiss and is like “if u really want to do all that stuff to me, do it” and then after that night they try and have sex in riskier places around the compound. (from anon)

Warnings: smut, language

Word count: 1732

A/N: so the freaking app i’ve been using for my headers had decided to fking delete my font?????? and i had to use different one, i don’t wike it

“Loki? Are you asleep?” Your voice was quiet when you asked him through the door, almost wanting him to be asleep, just not to cause any trouble.

It was around two in the morning and you woke up to use the bathroom, but was petrified when you saw a large spider crawling on the floor. As soon as it hid under your closet you run out of the room and headed to the only person that could possibly still be awake.

It wasn’t that you were always so spooky, it was just the case of spiders, ever since your childhood when a particularly fat one fell on your face while you were falling asleep in your parents’ holiday cabin.

You wanted to walk away and maybe wake Steve, but at the very moment the door opened and Loki’s sleepy face peaked at you from the gap.

“What do you need, petal?” He yawned, fixing his hair so the lost strands didn’t poke his eyes.

You blushed at the nickname he gave you. It was, after all, the whole reason for the nickname itself – your constant blushing once reminded him of roses, and the element of it stayed with you ever since.

“There’s a spider in my room,” you murmured, unwanted sense of guilt shredding your insides when he rubbed his eye, trying to wake himself up.

“Is it big?”

“Huge,” you nodded and parted your hands to show him the size, maybe exaggerating it a bit.

Loki sighed and walked out of his room, closing the door shut behind him.

“Well then, I shall make sure it doesn’t eat you.” He smirked at you as he walked past you. “At least not before I do it first.”

The blush on your face deepened and overtook your whole body, angering you as it did, since it was exactly what Loki wanted. He just loved making you blush and shy, always saying things like that.

I bet you taste just as good as what you cook.

Gods, I can just imagine what else you can do with that mouth of yours.

At first he was just making fun of you, cockily enjoying how embarrassed you were, but lately it became more… intimate. As if he really wanted to do all these things to you, things he sometimes whispered hotly to your ear while holding your waist during missions.

I would rip that leather off of you in a second, petal.

You would lie if you said his words didn’t make you feel hotness between your legs, and that you never touched yourself to the memory of his breath surrounding your neck, to the fantasy of him doing all these filthy things to you.

But that was something you kept in secret. No one could know, after all, not if you didn’t want to be made fun of. Falling for the villain, for the bad boy. How very fanfiction-ish of you.

You followed him to your room, and pointed at your closet.

“I saw it last there.”

But Loki didn’t bend to see underneath it, he stretched his hands so the palms were facing the floor and a second later you felt the air pulsating, tinted with green light, playing with rays of the moonlight peaking from untight curtains. You saw it diving across the floor and walls before Loki rapidly moved one of his hands and a spider flew from under your bed, and hung in the air before you.

“Throw it out, throw it out, throw it out!” You turned away and screamed when Loki made the spider fly after you.

He laughed and threw it out the opened window.

“I must say, that’s not exactly the reason I’d like you to wake me up to in the middle of the night,” he said, heading his way to the door.

“What reason would you prefer?” You suddenly asked when his fingers were wrapped around the doorknob, ready to leave. Your heart was pounding and you weren’t actually sure you said that out loud.

He turned with a cocky smile and took a step in your direction, only then you realized how close you actually were. He wrapped a string of your hair around his finger and pulled your face closer to his, his warm lips only barely touching your cheek.

“The wetness between your legs. Your lips around my cock. Or my fingers in your pussy, driving you crazy. These are the reasons I’d prefer,” he whispered in a husky voice, your cheeks crimsoned and womanhood throbbed.

“Do it, then,” you whispered as well, forgetting how to breathe.

“What do you want me to do, petal?” His finger caressed your cheek, he looked down at you.

“Everything you always say to me,” your heart stopped beating as well, “do it all.”

And just like that, within a split second his lips were on yours, tasting the blush and bold words said in the moonlight. He kissed you gentler than you would imagine, his hands cupped your face and you couldn’t help but lean on him, diving into the soothing coldness of his skin, into the sudden affection that surrounded you whole.

Loki’s arms wrapped around your waist and brought you even closer, at the same time when his tongue sneaked into your mouth, caressed the roof of your mouth. You let yourself drown in the moment, to hope it would last forever.

His hands dived under your pajama shirt, cold fingers on your hot skin caused goose bumps. You let him take the shirt off, sudden breeze from the opened window made your nipples harden. Without a thought you covered your bare chest with your hands, sure that the crimson blush on your face was well visible despite the darkness.

Loki gently wrapped his fingers around your hands, his thumbs massaging the palms.

“Don’t…” His voice was quiet when he encouraged you to expose yourself. You did it, holding his hands, allowing him to see you. “You’re perfect.”

Somehow it was all you needed to give up to him entirely. A passionate kiss warmed your lips again, and with shaking hands you took off your pants and underwear, shivering with excitement.

Loki took a step, forcing you to sit on the bed as he kneeled in front of you. He brought you to the edge of it and with heavily beating heart you let him lay you on the bedsheets. His hands caressed your thighs before he parted them, and a delightful sigh came to your ears.

“Oh, petal... Marvelous.”

You felt his fingers dipping in your wetness, smearing it all over your pussy before he pushed two fingers inside of you, making you squirm. His fingers were skilled, he curved them just enough to hit the right spot, soon turning you into moaning mess, forgetting how to breathe when his tongue swiped a stripe between your folds, collecting the juice and groaning with satisfaction before sucking on your clit.

You had him kneeling before you, his mouth and fingers on your pussy, almost coming at the spot just at the taste of you.

Your fingers dived into his hair, but instead of pressing him firmer against you, you pulled his hair to kiss him. Your juices on his tongue were salty, his kisses became more greedy. You crawled to the head of the bed, dragging him with you, tugging on his clothes to take them off.

His naked form was pressed against your body, you were lazily kissing him back, your face wet, your bodies sweating in the hot August night, hands sticking, breaths unsteady.

You dared to kiss his neck, to taste the salt from his skin, to even tug it a little.

His length was poking your stomach, twitching, begging for friction, for warm pussy to clench around it. You wrapped your fingers around it and he let out a sigh, warming the skin of your collarbone he was kissing. He adjusted his pose, your legs rested on his back, he cocked his hips at the same time you moved yours and just like that his cock was finally sliding into your aching pussy.

You gasped when he filled you whole, every inch of his member inside you, his abdomen rubbing your clit.

“How can– how can a mortal be this ideal?” He groaned and began to thrust, quickly picking up a fast pace. “Good little girl, all tight for me–“

You dug your hills in his back, forcing him to pound into you harder, kissing every word off his lips. He was stretching you perfectly, the way you never knew you needed.

“Got anything else nice to say?” You whispered when his fingers pinched your nipple before kneading your breast.

He smiled and kissed your neck, an especially hard thrust made you moan loudly.

“My petal likes to be praised?” He licked a stripe up your neck. “Good, because there’s a lot to praise…” You pulled him to kiss you, his tongue immediately slid into your mouth, taking the control you never had. “Such a precious pussy, clenching on my cock…” He smirked when you moaned loudly, his words turning you on like you’d never imagine. “Those perfect tits bouncing when I fuck you hard, I could cum just at the sight of them,” he gasped in your jaw before kissing you, fingers on your nipple tightening the grip. “My good girl…”

It was just too much, electricity flew from the place where he was pinching your nipples, it travelled down and met the hotness between your legs, the ecstasy was closer than the sky, closer than the molecules surrounding you, Loki swallowed your moans and the only thing you heard when your legs began to tremble was the squeaking of the springs. Orgasm shattered you like a porcelain doll, you didn’t know where you started and Loki ended, you felt him groan in your neck before spilling his cum inside of you, your bodies still firmly joined seconds after.

Your breathing came back to normal, what you couldn’t say about your heart that was pounding in your chest, the outline of it almost visible on your skin. Loki collapsed next to you, his breathing no better than yours.

The only thing you recalled before suddenly falling asleep was Loki’s cold skin pressed against you, his arms wrapping around your waist to spend the night in your company.  

___

Loki smut tag list: @lokislilslut@princerowanwhitethorngalathynius@darkprincessloki92@marvelrose@bluestaratsunrise@iamverity @lokilvrr @daddyloki @meraki--mei 

[sasodei-is-real]

Hiii! 💙I'm alive !!!(/*u*)/

Yes) I missed You very much *^*💖👾

And now I will quickly tell you what↖️ and how↘️ and what ⬆️plans. In general, yes.

As a content maker, I'm not really very good, because I don't keep up with anything😅

But I love you))💙

And miss you, so at least I will tell you what is planned and where I spent.

Well, everything is the same Classes at the university . I passed the humanitarian subjects! ) But then, of course, it came to drawing and painting. I'm a third year student. And now our main task is portraits The third course is perhaps the most difficult Difficult not because a lot of work But because this is a very important moment for understanding

First of all, understanding the meaning and feeling of the portrait

The complexity of the portrait is not really about the face. Just the opposite. The face in its structure is imprecise, which means it is easy to get. The point is how you look at your nature and the sitter

You need to balance on the brink when a portrait is an academic construction consisting of geometric shapes, and when a portrait is a person whom you pass through yourself

You try to catch the mood of the sitter, feel his character and let him create a character through yourself

And it's emotionally draining. Well, at least at first) But I compensate for this exhaustion with sasodei fanfics 😂😅. Recently I started to read a lot of fanfiction👀

Well, in short, I practiced a lot, I thought how I see and what I want

And as far as I understand, in principle I am already renting in this. It remains only to practice more))) Not well, of course, in terms of meaning, the artist always changes and moves I think; Well, I mean, that the start is founded. I at least understood how to move. how to rearrange my legs🙃

So, with the most important thing, the problem is solved

Now we have quarantined at the university for two weeks. After these two weeks we will have humanitarian exams🌚. Again🌚 Yay

Soo, I will prepare for an exam in art history and anatomy

On April 1, I am leaving for Russia again.But this time I won't be there long. I just need to go to Natarius and I will return on the first flight.

So here

Since I have already solved the main problem that took a lot of time (perception), it means that I will stay to create exams and I will have time👾

I really want to go to sasodei again

1. I miss you

2. I have so many plans for sasodei (my live🥺💛❤) and analyze in general

And I really want to discuss all this with you as soon as possible.👀🤎

So yeah))

About the analysis about the age difference. I'm still thinking it over. The fact is that, as I said, the topic is quite extensive. And it touches on many aspects of our life. And one of these aspects slowed me down. I'm talking about how strongly virtual norms can affect a person's understanding of what is the norm in real life. Well, at first the answer seemed simple to me, and then I thought. it's just a pretty serious topic, and I'll talk about it with you. And I always want to be as honest with you as possible, and will discuss this issue also honestly and openly. And for this I need to think seriously, and not write the first thing that comes to mind. Yes, I think this particular one will not be released as soon as I hoped. But I think it's worth it) The topic is always relevant and we will have something to discuss) Perhaps most of all I want to quickly write and publish this analysis so that I can read your opinion and discuss with you))) (/^*^)/💙

So here

In short, I breathe🌚

I am a little unhappy because of the constant pepenos of plans, I do not like it. But yes. You never know what might happen. But now my plans in my head go to April👀

I'm really ashamed that I didn't write😅

But in general, I really want to talk to you

But okay, soon)

Oh and by the way. I've been falling asleep all the time lately to one of the covers of Isabella's song from The Promised Neverland

Here : https://www.google.com/search?q=isabella%27s+lullaby+cover+by+aviance&client=ms-android-samsung-gj-rev1&sxsrf=ALeKk00IHFgVQwpa0j_blm9H936RXMclTg%3A1616450786110&ei=4hRZYLirBsXIaOjBqbAI&oq=isabella%27s+lullaby+cover+by+avi&gs_lcp=ChNtb2JpbGUtZ3dzLXdpei1zZXJwEAEYATICCAAyAggAMgUIIRCgATIFCCEQoAEyBQghEKABMgUIIRCgATIFCCEQoAEyBAghEBU6BAgAEEc6BQgAEMsBOgQIABBDOgcIABCHAhAUOgQIABAKOgYIABAWEB5Q9AxYiCRgni5oAHABeACAAaUEiAGWIpIBCzAuMS40LjUuMi4xmAEAoAEByAEIwAEB&sclient=mobile-gws-wiz-serp#

I want to share with you, I loved this one so much

Oh and a dose of sasodey of course(^*^)/

1artist - @Mello0519

2,3,5 - @fountain0109

4 - @_Collapse_19

All on twitter))

I would like to write so much more, but I have very little time. In general, we have night now) So good night⭐

🌻

Know that I love you💙💖

I hope you are healthy and safe🤲💗

Heck

I went to GIFs to send you a cute kitten, but I found THIS😅🤣

God I've never seen such an angry cat🤣😅

Aahhh it's time to sleep😅

Good night)💙🤲

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. This is a window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the Italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

hey girlypops! here is part 5!!! thanks for the feedback on the last part - i've gone back through and edited slight bits to make it more straightforward who her brother is and who it isn't. Nothing has been changed to the story line so no need to go back and re-read (unless you want to lol love yas). Part 5 is a whole lot of fun! As the warning suggests, you can expect a few too many drinks, some heavy flirty & a very smug italian.

Love always, Steph xx

Part 5. | parte quinta

warnings; a few too many drinks, heavy flirting and a smug italian.

word count; 1704

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Wed 04/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Day rolls into night, which rolls into the next day and before she knew it Amelia had been under the Mykonos sun for 5 days. Her brother and his teammates, who she should now probably refer to as her friends as well, did nothing but welcome her into their group with open arms and tried to include her in every activity they were doing. Most times she declined their invitation, opting to just relax on her own. She was very comfortable with her own company, she never felt like she needed another person to be able to exist. It was something she was proud of.

No doubt there were times she often missed companionship. She had her fair share of flings that gave her what kind of satisfaction she needed at the time, but she never felt like she needed someone else’s air to be able to breathe. This Mykonos trip, however, reminded her of how much she was beginning to miss her players. They had a group chat, La Cosa Nostra, which was probably a pretty poor group chat name but she was inducted into the already established group when she became close with some of the players & besides it was just Our Thing.

She missed the gentle bullying that she received on the daily from the serie a superstars, and also missed dishing it out to them so that they could keep their feet on the ground and their heads out of the clouds. Laying on her bed in a towel, after a nice shower, she contemplated taking up her brother’s offer from earlier in the evening. Does she go out and meet him and their mates at the club? Why not?

Getting up off her bed, she put on some makeup for the first time in a few days, making her feel somewhat human again, blow dried her freshly washed hair and put on her favourite Camilla bikini, covered up by a white slightly-sheer and flowy mini dress. Putting on her white sneakers and grabbing her cross body bag, comfort was the theme of tonight, and also because she wasn't in the mood to break her ankle on the grecian cobblestones.

Walking to the club that her brother had messaged her the name of, she noticed a ridiculously long line to get in which was honestly long enough for her to consider just going home, but she had committed to the plans & her brother was already expecting her - plus she had already put on her mascara and she was not wasting it. Approaching the line she went to join the back when her arm caught that of someone else walking past her.

_____________________________________________________________

“Sembra che tu non riesca a starmi lontano, vero?” (you can't seem to stay away from me, can you?) Looking up, I had linked arms with my midfield maestro, Jorginho. Who was smiling down at me with the cheeky grin that told me he saw me coming and couldn't help himself.

“Ciao! Come sei stato? Che sorpresa incontrati qui!” (Hi! How have you been? What a surprise running into you here!) I begin to say to him as I kiss both his cheeks in greeting.

“I’ve been good, enjoying time off as a double champion” He joked with me. He was right, he was a double champion and no one could take that away from him.

“Bella Amelia, this is Thiago. I play with him at Chelsea, which I'm sure you already knew. Thiago, this is the brains behind the organisation, Amelia” Jorginho introduced me to his Chelsea counterpart, which he was correct about - i did already know exactly who he was.

“Are you guys coming into Tropicana? I’m meeting up with my brother and his mates - some of them play with you guys at Chelsea. You should join us!” It took very little convincing for the two footballers, who looked like they were a couple hours into their long night, to join me in the club.

Unsurprisingly, we got let into Tropicana quite quickly. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the two mega famous and ridiculously good looking footballers I had looped around each of my arms. Walking through the club, the smell of cigarette smoke and vodka wafting around me, I managed to find the british players.

“Now now boys, no bad blood here! I know you all managed to get over my Italian affiliation so don’t hold it against my boy Jorgi here!” I address the group jokingly, as I wrap my right arm around his neck and he wraps his left around my waist.

Of course the Chelsea boys welcome him with open arms, they’ve known both Thiago and Jorgi longer than they’ve known me. The other boys offer their hellos before continuing to dance and drink with their mates. I say hi to everyone, give a big hug to my brother and Kyle (my chosen brother) before I'm wrapped into another hug I wasn't expecting.

“I’ve got to admit, you give a good hug” I say as I whisper into his ear.

“You’re a pretty easy person to hug, Mils”

“Always a smooth talker you are, Jack”

We parted and I grabbed myself a drink before spending the night dancing on top of the table with the girlfriends of the boys that I had only just been introduced to. Bonding over the fact that I was desperate for some female companionship, and also that I was the only single girl in the group, leading to the conclusion that they needed to be my wingwoman...all of them.

The night thereafter was spent finding suitable prospects for my whirlwind night of fun and romance, which I insisted wasn't necessary but also couldn't help but admit that it excited me just a little. It had been a while since I was close with a guy in that sense, and to be honest, the tequila shots that the girls had me doing was loosening me up in more ways than one.

Feeling the need for a break and some fresh air, I grabbed my purse and walked outside to sit along the retaining wall. We had reached that part of the evening where there was no chance I wasn't going to be allowed back into the club - the bouncers and security guards becoming more relaxed and carefree as it neared the time that the sun would reappear. Without thinking twice, I asked for a cigarette from some guys standing outside and a quick light, before returning to my little spot on the wall.

“They’re right bad for you, ya know” A voice to my right startled me.

“Jesus! You need to stop scaring me like that!” I shrieked.

“Nah not Jesus, just Chilly. However the beard has me thinking I do look a little bit God-like these days..no?” He says as he runs his fingers through the barely-there beard. Sure I could agree with stubble, maybe even a little bit more than stubble, but a beard? Not yet. However, I wasn't about to dim his sparkle.

“I like the beard, Chilly.” I confirmed.

“I like you, Mils” Wow ok. Straight to the point then.

“Well thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” I tried to play it off, it was obvious we had both consumed far too much alcohol this evening and the cigarette was currently working wonders in its purpose of sobering me up.

“Ya know, the girls were out there tonight looking for your Greek Adonis to come and sweep you off your feet. They were looking a bit too hard though, if you know what i mean” he sweet talks me, and its working.

“Wow Ben, you’re really out here laying it on thick tonight - factor 50 i would say. I’m sure you’re just looking through rose coloured glasses right now” I joked back with him. I can’t say I didn't notice all of his longing looks, extra attention to me, constant protection when we would be out in public, but I knew at the end of the week that I would be going back to Turin, so there wasn’t any point.

Finishing up our little chat (read: heavy flirting session), we headed back inside together to join the group. Before long, Jorgi comes up to me with a drink and a smug smile on his face.

“Che cosa?” (what?) I questioned him in Italian, trying to limit as many people understanding our conversation as possible.

“Cosa succede a mykonos, rimane a mykonos, no?” (what happens in mykonos, stays in mykonos, no?) He says as he leans into my ear. To anyone else it would just look like two friends trying to have a conversation in a loud club, but I understood his message loud and clear.

“non sto facendo niente di male, né l'ho mai fatto. non voleva etichette, quindi è quello che ha ottenuto” (i'm not doing anything wrong, nor have i ever. he wanted no labels so that’s what he got.) I say back firmly. Jorgi let go of my shoulders and moved to stand in front of me.

“It’s ok tesoro (darling), I’m sure Federico would agree with you” He said back to me in English, it was obvious that he wanted someone around to understand the premise of our conversation. He smiled cheekily at me, before taking a swig of his drink and dancing backwards into the crowd as I shook my head at him.

Jorgi and I developed the kind of friendship that would last through time. We were equals. We listened to each other's problems, offered the advice that we needed to hear & not necessarily wanted to hear. We promoted each other's happiness and tried to get each other to not take life too seriously. This was his way of bringing me back down to earth, reminding me of what I have waiting for me back in Turin, but also making sure I knew what was right in front of me. He left the decision up to me to make, but he played his part to make sure I knew all of my options. He really was a good friend, which would make my next career decision a little bit more challenging than anticipated.

Part 6. | parte sesta

[pendragaryen]

Today… the anger faded. And I’m spiralling. Heavily. It gets worse by every hour. Please… someone… I’m really feeling bad. I’m crying but it brings no release… I’m so… so sad. I feel so lost 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(In reference to my latest post above): I’m still here... and somehow still breathing. Not that kind of “still breathing” we all love so much and that held so much hope for us Blarkes in the past... but still... breathing...

My dearies... my fellow disappointed, wrecked Blarkes... @together-is-my-favourite-place, @natassakar, @katersann, @immortalpramheda and @sixserpents (and yes i’m even counting you, dear @biestcallisto, who hasn’t watched the show since S2 or what was it? But you messaged me and it means so, so much to me...) AND everyone who liked this post and thought of me in some way yesterday... THANK YOU SO MUCH. From the bottom of my broken heart. And “THANK YOU” doesn’t even cover it properly.

I am a weird person. I cried even MORE while reading your responds and messages. But with a smile on my lips. Believe me. I felt... comforted. I FEEL understood and loved. I am SO DAMN PROUD and happy beyond words to know you guys, to be a part of such a strong, beautiful minded, compassionate fanbase. You cannot fathom what your words mean to me. They saved me yesterday in a way. They couldn’t stop my tears from falling, but it helped a great deal to recover a bit faster, to find myself again. I’m still mourning. But that black hole in my chest, that threatened to consume me yesterday, is gone for now. (It’s still lurging in the corner of my mind tho... i know it’s still around somehow and can attack me anytime... But i’m able to fight it much better with knowing, y’all stand behind me and think of me... i love you so much... *sniff*)

Just one more thing about the whole matter. I wrote down my (at first VERY angry) thoughts immediately after the episode aired (here), but i completely forgot one thing, the thing that disturbs me the most about it all. That one thing y’all already mentioned in your own posts and rants: It’s the simple SENSELESSNESS of it all. Bellamy’s whole character development... so many years of development... RUINED... in just a few minutes at the end of a random episode... (Don’t get me started about the fact, that it was CLARKE of all people again, who’s done it..) I mentioned already, that it hurts me a great deal (among many, many other things), that he had to die unloved, misunderstood and ALONE. And that... isn’t something i can go over easily and return to my daily business like it didn’t happen at all. Like i said, i was aware of the fact, that Bellamy’s and/or Clarke’s death(s) could be possible in the end - but WITH A PURPOSE behind it. I thought, WHEN they had to die, there would me a meaning behind it. But this... this... Bellamy’s death... was even beyond meaningless. That is what hurts the most. THAT is what i can’t stop my mind from thinking about - without any conclusion to come to.

I saw a post from you, Sam @burninghoneyatdusk​, about the fact that EVERY feeling will pass at some point and that the mourning of a death of a fictional character shouldn’t affect your life in a way, that it interferes with your daily routines (i’m paraphrasing here, please don’t mind). And I AGREE! Strongly! I told myself yesterday A DOZEN TIMES that it’s weird to let it affect my REAL life in that way, in a way... that i was even... kind of paralyzed yesterday, that my constant crying gave me a strong headache (felt like a hangover, really...) and everyone around me told me that i’d look like a ghost (bc OF COURSE i haven’t slept properly). This cannot be healthy. And i KNOW this! But...

... my head couldn’t and cannot stop my heart from feeling this way. I tried to distract me, i met with my family, i went on an excursion with them yesterday... I’ve told myself to STOP CRYING. But i COULDN’T. I couldn’t for the life of me. And my family... doesn’t understand me. They don’t even TRY. That... hurts so much.

Bellamy Blake... This character... his strength and compassion... even his failures and his ability do LEARN from them... his ability to even cope with the death of the love of his life (and you can’t tell me, that Clarke wasn’t the love of his life by the end of season 4 (and beyond), don’t even try)... meant... no, it MEANS so much to me! He’ll always be a model for me, my ultimate comfort character. And don’t get me started about Bob, who, with his openness about anxieties and mental illnesses, had an even greater positive impact on me over the last years!

So, no, my head knows, that i should stop mourning in the devestating way i’m doing it right now. But on the other hand, every emotion is valid right now. I know this too. Everyone mourns in a different way. THis is mine. It may not be healthy. But (and here i’m completely with you, Sam!) IT WILL PASS. That pain will pass. The hurt will pass. I am (thank goodness) aware of that. (Bob once posted something along the lines that depression is only like a cloud that will pass, and that the heaven itself (aka yourself/myself) will always stay... i’m thinking of this quite often). And i almost hope that my anger will return. Bc anger saved me in the past more than just once. A healthy kind of anger. A rightful one. And we ALL have the right to be pissed af right now. So thank you for nothing JRoth.

Yes the pain will pass someday. But not my love for a character named Bellamy Blake. This will stay. And i’ll erase the 7th season from my mind if it helps me to cope with it. I’ll not watch the last episodes when they’re airing. I’ll wait until it’s all over and then decide if it’s worth it. And even then, if i SHOULD watch them when everything’s finally over, i most likely won’t watch S7 ever again in the future.

Thanks for bearing with me... this was long... Sorry... I didn’t intend to write that much.. I’m sorry...

Just know that i’m getting better eventually. The pains of my past all faded away at some point. This will fade too. And the fact that a fictional character meant (means!) the world to me will not making me think of myself as a weirdo - although my own family seems to see me that way. My feelings are valid. And i’m not alone in feeling that way. It is what it is: Real, almost palpable affection. And even one (1) JRottentomatoe can’t ruin this.

Thanks for all your kind words. I love you all. And i hope we’ll stay in touch somehow when all of this mess is over.

And now i’m going to drawn myself in fanfictions. BLESS all the writers! Seriously.