#i wanted to select angstier moments

[paintingraves]

Florence and the Machine - Big God 

Aka House MD emotionally destroyed me so now I have to make it everyone’s problem

[purecantarella]

Attention

im going to pretend like its not midnight so haPPY DAY 12 OF KINKTOBER!! we really should have known that my ass would fall off the wagon at least a few days for kinktober :""") i hope you'll all forgive me and enjoy this nonetheless!! minatozaki sana x reader disclaimer/s : suggestive and gets sort of hot under the collar. nothing explicitly said but i still suggest going to look for fluffier or angstier content.

Sana was always used to being the center of attention, when she walks in the room all eyes were on her. She loved the attention and validation from others. That was until she met you. Everyone else's opinion became insignificant.

Which is why when your attention wasn't on her, it made her antsy. Much more when someone was very clearly interested in you.

It didn't happen often due to you two keeping your relationship hidden, but when she did take you to closed JYPE functions, she noticed her fellow idol and select trainee's eyes all over you.

It simply made her blood boil, but it never went further than a few glances. But her greatest fear finally came to light during the annual midyear gala to celebrate the sales and the company's success.

Both of you sat in the car, Sana in an elegant pink long gown and you sitting in a velvety dark purple suit. Your girlfriend looked over at you with a loving smile, pressing her lips to your cheek, catching you off guard. You smile shyly and blush under her gaze.

She nuzzles her nose against your cheek, "You look good in my color."

You nod before pressing your lips to her soft ones, holding her jaw in your hand to deepen the kiss. Sana's hands reach up to the lapel of your jacket, her breath catching in her throat as you probe her lower lip with your tongue. Against her will, you pull away before whispering, "I look best with you, princess."

Sana giggles cutely before a knock pulls you out of the moment. Her manager motions for you both to come out of the car, you breathe a deep sigh before saying, "Well, time to keep up with appearances..." The Japanese woman nods sadly but is surprised as you jump out of the car and pull open the door on her side.

"My lady." You say dramatically, offering your hand to her. Sana smiles before taking your hand in hers. Butterflies flutter in her stomach as you kiss the back of her hand with a cheeky grin on your face.

Sana giggles again, "You're so cheesy."

You flash her a smile before you guide her out of the car and towards the rest of the members who incessantly tease you both for your gesture. Sana blocks them out, all she notices is you.

The night drew on with no issue, the food was delightful, the drinks kept flowing, and watching the trainees perform before them was a delight. Though she could see some eyes on you, she didn't want it to spoil your night together.

Your hand was tightly woven in hers as you spoke to the other members and some members of ITZY. She was so entrapped by you and the way you made other people laugh, a warm feeling filling her chest, that she missed you turning to her.

"Sana?" You say louder, finally getting her attention. The smile on your face widens when you see the shocked look on her face. "I'm going to get a drink, do you want anything?"

Her heart melts and her eyes go soft before she nods cutely. You smile and place a light kiss on her cheek before walking over to the bar.

She converses with the girls about the trainees and teasing one another because of their respective significant others and about the performances that passed. It was all fine until she noticed that you'd been gone longer than it usually took to get drinks.

Chalking it up to you striking conversation with another idol or maybe even the bartender. Then another set finished and you still weren't back yet. Getting rather worried that maybe and executive was holding you up, she hiked her dress up and walking towards the bar.

She's filled with relief seeing you leaning on the bar wearing a small smile on your face. However, Sana's eyes narrowed upon seeing the trainee's hand stroke your arm gently, her crooked smile brightening as you say something with a bright smile. The Japanese woman was on her feet and stomping her way towards you.

"—Maybe you and me could—" Sana doesn't let the trainee finish before she cuts in while her hand strokes your back gently, knowing how much it calms you. You turn around and your polite smile brightens into an excited one. "Princess! I'm sorry if I kept you waiting."

Sana shakes her head and makes a show of kissing your cheek long enough to leave a lipstick stain on your skin. The trainee rolls her eyes before you point to her, "I was just talking to Seoyoon (this is a random name pls dont roast me) here and she was asking for advice on time management."

"Unnie, sorry you have something on your cheek." The trainee boldly wipes the mark away, only angering Sana further. She faces you trying not to argue with the trainee publicly with a sweet, yet tight, smile.

"Y/n do you mind coming with me to the bathroom? I want to check on my make-up." You quirk a brow curiously, facing her completely much to Seoyoon's dismay, taking her cheek in your hand. "You look gorgeous to me—"

She doesn't allow you to finish your thought before she's dragging you towards the exit. Shooting a glare back to the trainee who had the gall to flirt with you.

She's quick to tug you into a tight broom closet, away from prying eyes. You're rammed up against an empty wall but before you can ask anything, Sana's lips roughly press against yours, her hands running through your hair. You groan against her lips before you grab her by the waist, pulling her closer.

As you try to flip your positions, Sana forces you back into the wall. She pulls away from the kiss, catching your lower lip between her teeth. Her eyes dark and her brows furrowed. "P-Princess, what're you—"

She doesn't speak any further but dips her head against your neck. You groan as her lips work against your skin, heartily nipping and sucking, wanting to leave her mark on you. Your hands move abruptly from her waits to the back of her head.

"You're mine, Y/n. All mine." She emphasises her words by scrapping her teeth down your neck before she finally raises her head again to meet your eyes. "No one else's."

You nod mindlessly before you jolt forward, forcing Sana's lips onto yours. She moans as your tongue brushes her lower lip before forcing it into her mouth. The muscle explores every inch of her mouth, making Sana's eyes roll back from the sensation. You make a point of your actions by sucking harshly on her own tongue, making her cry out against your lips before finally pulling away.

Your lips are bruised, your neck is littered with angry red marks and a her lipstick smeared all over your skin. You pant as you finally successfully flip Sana around in her dazed state, her back now on the wall. Your eyes are dark and it creates a warm pool under her skirt.

"This gala's getting boring, I think there's something I'd much rather do right now..." Sana moans softly as your knee pushes up into her progressively dampening center. Her hand finds your shoulder to balance herself. "Can't you just take me here, N/n?" She pouts, looking up at you innocently.

You chuckle before shaking your head, sinking your knee up further into her core. She whimpers with a small 'please' falling from her lips. "I want to take my time with you. When anybody sounds the way you do, you'd want to pull all the sounds out from there."

You twirl a lock of her hair around your finger, your gaze becoming even hungrier, "Plus, I'm the only one allowed to hear that shit, Sana. No one else." Bold of you to say that given how oblivious you were to the flirtatious trainee.

Sana releases one last moan before you remove your leg from between her thighs. "Let's go, I need to feel you, baby."

Rushing to leave, you two return to the ballroom, the hickeys and bruised state of your neck, and mussed hair and clothes to merely bid her members farewell and get Sana's things. Your now dazed state didn't go unnoticed by other guests, who either shook their head in disappointment or giggling amongst themselves.

"I can't fucking wait to get you in bed, pretty girl." You whisper in her ear, as your hand possessively sits on her waist. As you continue to whisper just what you're going to do to her, the trainee who'd been flirting with you stared at your neck in shock.

Sana smirks before she leans up taking your lips between hers again, gaining more stares but her eyes cracked open to meet the trainees angry stare. The Japanese woman winks her way before pulling away.

You roll your eyes seeing just why she got so possessive, you force her to look up at you, "If it's my attention you wanted," You peck her lips again quickly, "You always have it, pretty girl."

not a super healthy thing to do when you're jealous but if sana did that to me i would be on my fucking knees HAHAHAHAH i liked the idea of sana taking some control but in my mind, she's just a needy and possessive little baby that got pushed over the edge HAHHAHA anyway i hope you all enjoyed this!! i love you all vv much and i hope you're all taking care of yourselves 😁 i will see you all soon!! - r

[sinvulkt]

20 Questions For Writers

Wow, thank you so much for the tag @fanfictasia !! I've wanted to participate in something like this forever!! 🎶✨️✨️

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Right now? 66.

"Yes, as a star wars writer, I am very proud of that. No, I do not intend to change it anytime soon."

I really need to focus on (and finish) some of my WIPs, and that mean trying not to disperse my energy amidst one shots (no matter how much i love monthly challenges and fic exchange events). Also I'm very proud of that 66 count and want to appreciate it xd.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

321k words!!

(More or less 100k / year 🎶 little me would never believe that 0.0

My school exam results sure don't, with how they are dropping 🤣)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star wars mostly (Vaderkin or my OC Sinvulkt), then Marvel (Dr Strange), Dream SMP (Dream), Le Visiteur du Future (Renard) and more recently Batman (Bruce Wayne) as well as Avatar: the last airbender (Zuko).

Plus the original stories I am supposed to write but almost never end up doing xd (the engagement in fandom compared to original stories make the switch hard xd).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Dreamt of a Never Ending Sky (Dream SMP)

669 kudos

2. To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars)

480 kudos

3. On the Edge of Twilight (Star Wars)

380 kudos

4. Scales of Embers (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

353 kudos

5. Crash Landing on Space Australia (Star Wars)

319 kudos

I'll never know how my Dream SMP fic got so much engagement. Good timing at a moment the fandom was in effervescence, I guess. Scales of Embers scoring so high is also a surprise 0.0. I discovered it had that many kudos today. It’s a shame the Dr Strange fandom is small because I think my Dr Strange WIP What If Doctor Strange Lost His Humanity ? would have deserved a place here. It definitely does in my heart.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! As a reader, I always feel super happy when the author shows that they’ve read and appreciated my comments. I know that personality an author who answers make me more likely to want to drop a comment.

As an author, I absolutely want to show how much I love every single comments, so I try to answer them all. But I get a little overwhelmed sometimes, bcs lots of other stuff going on irl or another reason. As such, it can happen that I don't feel the energy to answer a comment on the spot. And if I don't answer it on the spot (using the power of the wiggy dizzy nice happy feeling of getting a comment), I don't necessarily have the energy to answer later on. I currently have something like 60 unanswered comments I think? TT.TT

But rest assured that whether I answered or not, I absolutely adore and cherish every single ones!! Comments are amazing! ✨️.✨️

(This kind of engagement is one of the only reason I managed to settle into such an active rythm of writing after years of trying then dropping the hobby~)

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Glance at my fics.

Uhhh... This is a hard question here... Many of them have angsty endings XD

Mostly the ones at the beginning (the worst written ones xd). I wonder why~

Also a lot of them don' have endings yet XD

I'll say amidst the 'old' fics from 2021, Day 8 - Screaming (Star Wars) would be the angstier one (or most horrible one ig xd).

But as far as recent fic go... While I haven't finished writing it bcs its wordcount exploded in my face, I already plotted / drafted it a few months ago and I know the ending, so I'll choose:

Batman’s Downfall (To Stand Alone) (Batman)

I noticed my kind of angst doesn’t have much success around these parts 🫠🤣. Oh well. I cherish it all the same :3.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Sometimes I think I wrote too many fics. It's hard to select one.

Uhhh... My fluffiest works are one shots in Of Feathers and Freedom serie, but they are part of the series so it’s not really an 'ending'.

...

I'll answer for the crackiest story rather than the happiest ending bcs all my finished fics ending are ominous open ending at best xd.

The Blob Adventures Of Excentrics Jedi (Star Wars)

Because it's cute blob drawings of our crazy team of OC in taaoej, and I love them (although we are all angst lovers in taaoej, so it's more crack-angst, and we don't know the ending bcs there isn't really one. Not yet at least. Hopefully never).

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Just my own innervoice as far as I'm aware. But then I've always been rather clueless when people tried to 'hate on me'. The message usually just got lost somewhere in dreamspace immensity, never computing.

I've found the fandoms communities really welcoming at the very least!!

9. Do you write smut?

No.

I don't really enjoy reading smut. Nor romance for the matter. I don't think I'd enjoy writing it.

But maybe I'll try one day, for the sake of experimenting all genres.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I never did. I don't know why. Maybe I just never felt the need to mix characters and universes. There are amazing crossovers out there though, so who knows, maybe one day I'll try one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. In all honesty, I don't think my works are nearly popular enough to get stolen xd.

My writing style isn’t that good yet, and my dislike of romance when the majority of the fandom community is ship-powered means I end up in a corner quite niche. (A corner I love, that being said. Yay Crack, Angst and Gen~)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but maybe I'll translate some of mine in french someday. Be it only so that I do write fiction in my native language from time to time.

Anyone that wanna translate my fics, feel free to!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars)!!

I’m still waiting for my co-author @purpleopossum to come back to me / get back in star wars mood to continue that one. 🫠

Can’t say my hopes are that high up after all this time, but it’s the redemption | healing part of the serie and I don’t really have fun writing alone redemption | healing part... i prefer doing the whole mayhem that create the injury in the first place. And with how long some of my fics hiatus are (and I got no excuse for those xd), it’s only fair for me to wait. (I did write more other works for the dragon Vader serie in the meantime xd).

I made an oath to myself to never leave a work unfinished though, so we’ll see. If in several years purple still doesn’t wish to continue it, or if she inform me she is dropping the story, I’ll try to make some kind of ending. It’s part of the game i guess.

Alternatively, the The Amazing Adventures Of Excentrics Jedi universe is a group of star wars OCs that we made together with @pat-the-togorian , @asteral-feileacan , @ct2002-rema and Xylian. I don’t know if that count as co-writing? We usually write our OCs pov.

But in all cases, co-writting is very fun and I’d definitely do it again if other opportunities arise in the future.

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

The absence of ship is my all-time favorite ship. Otherwise, "main character / digging their own grave" would be my 'favorite ship' since I tend to synch with idiots snarky jerks disasters.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars) that I mentioned for question 13? 🤣

More seriously, I'll answer On the Edge of Twilight (Star Wars)

Because it's my vent fic. I know the main plot line, I vaguely know the current arc, but no one can predict where the next arc will go. It's all pure impulse and while I have a vague idea of 'ending', I refuse to plan a path towards it. This fic specifically, I want to keep pure impulse. So I'd love for it to become some kind of "The NeverEnding Story". :3

16. What’s your writing strengths?

I write.

No seriously, it's not something I did four years ago appart from vent poems here and there. Writing is in itself a huge writing strenght!

Otherwise I'm also a bottomless well of idea. It's pretty neat.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

... romance?

Or dialogues. Lastly I have a lot of frustration around the transition from dialogue / transition / dialogue. I feel like I'm crap at properly timing that.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's fun. I do it for games sometimes. Since apparently writing normally is not chllenging enough for my brain sometimes. It did teach me bits of mando'a.

Recently for Sēċan (Star Wars) I decided last minute to put the whole droid dialogue in morse, and I regret none of it.

I'm usually only doing it for one shots though, and never 'official existing' languages until now.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star wars :p

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Now that's another hard question, how am I supposed to select one.

I'm gonna answer the whole Of Feathers And Freedom (Star Wars) serie. Bcs wings. :3

Tag time~ (if you wish to)

@purpleopossum @pat-the-togorian @cinderfeather @beguilewritesstuff @purple-iris @dreaminghour @ravenite-void @trickstress333 @bluntblade @doctorgeekery @stewardofningishzida @jenae-0 @trickstress333 @kittonafoxgirl @pastelcourage @salparadiselost @kefalion @charlottevader @ravenstakeflight @starr234 @aelaer @sarcasticfirefighter @mckiwi @linzerj @sonderwalker @exomal @tonhalszendvics @nephilimswitchlight @firejay112 @only-here-for-the-star-wars @ajedilikehisfather @makaronik @chickadeechickadoo @dirtkid123 @numerousbees1106 @akizumy @25centsoda @udekai @wendingways @silvereddaye @in-company-of-misery @wisechaosglitter @kuraiarcoiris @alright-anakin @wyvunn you're more than welcome to join on the interview fun!! (Or to ignore the tagging if not interested xd).

I know I tagged. I lot of people. Some of you may recognise my pseud, some may not. But I thought it would be interesting to hear the answer of the various authors with whom I interacted on ao3 over the years, so I went and digged up those with tumblr I could find from my inbox 🤣

(Hopefully I didn’t bother any of you >.< - otherwise I apologize. Same for if I accidentally tagged a non-writer.)

I'd love to hear your answers! 🎶

[johnslittlespoon]

Find the Word (P2)

Rules: Share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can't find the word in your WIPs, or you simply don't have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word)

TAKE TWO because i didn't see ur tag before i posted my other one omg, thank you for tagging @hauntingcontradiction <33

My Words: need, ghost, warmth, tears Your Words: tree, hold, night, blue

Need:

“We need a rag, or somethin’,” Gale rasps, twisting to see if he has anything on his shelf, but when he turns back, John’s raising his hand to his mouth, lapping up their mess without a second thought. Gale watches, transfixed, cock giving a weak twitch of interest, and he flushes, glancing away. “John Egan,” he murmurs in faux–shock, as if he’s scandalized, though he makes no move to push John away when he leans in to kiss him after he’s done, feeling a bit breathless at the taste of both of them on his tongue. [i don't wanna be alone tonight – ao3]

Ghost:

Gale is more careful this time when he goes back in, pressing his lips softly against John’s, but John pushes back eagerly, teeth clacking quietly against his, drawing hushed laughter from both of them. His laugh is quickly cut off by a gasp when John’s hand wraps back around his cock, lips parting, and John licks into his mouth, tongue ghosting over the backs of his teeth. Gale places his hand on John’s hip, hesitant in his touch as he slides his hand lower, toying with the hem of his pants. [i don't wanna be alone tonight – ao3]

Warmth:

Gale almost dozes off in the warmth until the light through his eyelids grows shadowed, and he blinks them open to see John approaching, dripping water as he goes. He narrows his eyes at the impish smile that spreads across John’s face, one he knows all too well. “Egan,” he says in warning, but all he gets in return is a bark of a laugh and a plea (that sounds a lot more like a threat) to “come back in, Buck.” The “not yet” barely leaves his mouth before John’s shaking his hair out above him, water droplets flying every which way, spattering cold across his sun–heated skin. [you're a dog (i'm your man) – ao3]

Tears:

John, who had said I love you with his eyes, with his “have you been eating okay?”, his “are they treating you alright?”, a cheeky “did you miss me lots?” John, who had made sure that Gale was okay up until the moment his body finally gave in, slumping against the pillow with a bit of blood still dried on the bridge of his nose. The first tears sting at the corners of Gale’s eyes as he watches the man he loves sleep, traces the frown lines on his face with a longing to press his thumb over them and smooth them out like they’re just folds in paper, not permanent marks he’ll bear for the rest of his days. [four–by–four – ao3]

could've gotten much angstier with some of those but i shant <3 and don't wanna retag everyone so tagging whoever wants to tackle another set of words! :-)

[neon-moon-beam]

I've lost any interest in Submas because of what the fanbase did to Volo, stripped him of all his redeeming qualities to turn him into a Ghetsis clone. And yet no matter how many times I see it, my heart inwardly screams "LOOK HOW THEY MASSACRED MY BOY".

Oh my god yes. Volo has been done dirty so badly by the Submas fandom and other people who enjoy him to the point of it being the default.

Volo is a fairly complex character. He can’t be reduced to “unhinged and will hurt people when given the chance lol” or whatever else the fandom likes to do all for the sake of making things angstier, especially when it comes to Submas. In-game, he’s in more of a grey area and comes off as a character with issues having a bad moment, not an overall bad person. I'd put him somewhere around the same level as Archie and Maxie in terms of how much of a villain he is:

-Not entirely a bad guy, just bad ideas, bad solutions to problems (that might only be a personal problem for him or a select few, we know he had a rough life but we aren’t told how or why, but it has created his entire worldview and motivation)

-Might not have actually followed through with his plan anyway (he does have things he genuinely cares about, and say what you will about salty and rude Togepis in Hisui but he had high enough friendship with one to get a Togekiss)

-His feelings of being wronged in life and wanting to hold someone or something accountable, get answers, maybe an apology or to make things right is a fairly common human experience. He just lives in a world with magical monsters where confronting one with the ability to instantly change things is a definite possibility.

-Unlikely Arceus would have listened to him, Giratina did not want to listen to him (and Giratina is the failsafe when Dialga and Palkia are out of commission), so even though he appeared to have the means to reshape the world, he really did not

-Accepted the player character defeated him, stopped antagonizing, and probably left Hisui to sort out his issues

-Also is NOT responsible for Ingo being in Hisui (I did make a huge in-depth post about how he could have gotten there, and the evidence does NOT stack up in favor of Volo being the cause)

Sometimes it feels like people didn’t interact with PLA in any capacity and just go with whatever the fandom says about these characters, or else just don’t care about canon whatsoever, and that can be really alienating to other fans. Especially when other fans do like the canon characterization and all they can find is ooc depictions, bad takes, and anything else where it's essentially Volo in appearance only.

I know some people have said they never want to see Volo interact with Submas ever again, and I agree. Cr*zytr*inshipping and tr*inwr*ckshipping are built on ableism, the idea that mental illness is “scary”, and grossly mischaracterizing Volo, and at least Emmet (not sure about Ingo because I refuse to bother with content containing these ships or even interactions between these characters).

Volo deserves so much better. I’m sorry fandom spaces are not kind to him.

[writebackatya]

5, 12, and 21 for the end of the year asks?

(Note for tagged people: You’re mentioned in the answer for Question 21. Thanks again!)

5. most popular fic this year

My first DuckTales fanfic Indi-Quack! which not only turned one year old, but also reached a 1000 hits!! So thanks everyone for that!

In terms of kudos both Indi-Quack! and Home for the Holidays! are tied

12. favorite character to write about this year

I could very easily select any of my five favorite blorbos from the show: Della, Dewey, Fenton, Gandra, and Webby. Those five are always a blast to write for.

But I think I’m going to go and say Lena, mainly because she’s a character I always struggle with when writing for her but when I’m done I’m usually really happy with how she turns out

Look I’ll be honest, I’m not a teenage girl. I never was. I’m a He/They adult and whenever I write for a teenage girl I’m always afraid someone will comment “Yeah you could tell a dude wrote this.” And so far that hasn’t happened yet

Also, Lena was a big part of Rainbow Connections, a fic that is a bit angstier and a little less comedic than what I normally do for my fics; and I’m still really satisfied with how everything turned out in that one

21. most memorable comment/review

Kinda wanna pick two which coincidentally were posted on the same story which is Christmas Rapping! from Home for the Holidays!

First one comes from @thechaseofspades

Mainly for the first paragraph but I do love his karaoke song choices.

Whenever I write DuckTales fanfics my number one concern is always how I write the characters. I want them to be like how they are on the show and I want to represent them. If I’m putting a character tag in my fic I always tell myself “Someone might click on this fic because that character is here. Get them right!”

Because everyone has a favorite character from the show and that favorite character could be anyone. And I’m sure we’ve all been there where we went to check out a fic only to find out our favorite blorbo is NOTHING like how the blorbo really is. It sucks. And I never want to do that

So usually whenever I write for a character I always rewatch episodes or random clips with certain characters to make sure I got them right. Most of the time I ask for second opinions from my beta readers (one of which is a big Louie fan. Whenever I write anything for Louie and need him to beta read I always say “Make sure I got Louie right!”)

And top of that, one of my favorite things about DuckTales is the characters and how they interact with one another. I remember going through every episode and enjoying every time the show threw a new dynamic between characters as it went on. They’re all so good! But we didn’t get all the characters interacting with one another cause Disney is a jerk that doesn’t understand how good this series is! (I didn’t watch the show till after it was cancelled but that’s beside the point) So in my fics I love to imagine what some dynamics would be between characters that should’ve interacted with one another on the show

So yeah, this comment really meant a lot to me! And it was posted on Christmas Day! (At least it was Christmas Day where I was. I was visiting my sister in Hawaii at the time and it was Christmas evening when I got the comment. So that is the cherry on top of this beautiful sundae.

As for the second comment I wanna talk about, it actually came from YOU, @tokuvivor

First off, I’m really glad you thought it was fun! I wanted it to be fun! And yeah, I definitely think Della and Fenton would get along beautifully. They’re great. But what I want point out is the banter part

Honestly, no one has ever really commented specifically on the comedic banter in any of my stories and for the longest time I wasn’t sure if people enjoyed those moments as much as I do

So I love writing banter between characters but at the same time, it’s a big struggle for me and yet all of my stories are filled with just that. It’s strange when writing comedic banter it always feels like it’s either dragging on way too long or just filling up space which of course I don’t want to happen

Usually it’s not so bad when I take a step back from the writing process and read what I’ve written so far and that usually helps me decide if the conversation is dragging or going at the right speed and direction. But comedy is a very subjective thing, what I find funny might not be funny to someone else. So I’m glad you found it funny

On another note, this is also the first time I knew for sure someone liked how I wrote Gandra

So I already mentioned my favorite characters from DuckTales and I already feel pretty confident writing them cause I usually get comments about them, but I never really got any about Gandra

So yeah, I’m pretty insane when it comes to wondering if I got the characters right. I remember when I first got Kudos for Indi-Quack! from someone with a Louie profile pic who wrote a lot of Louie centric fics my immediate reaction was “Yes! I got Louie right!”

Shoot that reminds me that @christianfoxymc wrote this on the first entry in my series The Iron Duck of Steel: The Gizmoduck Movie, Part I! and it still makes me smile

That story took me months to write and just knowing someone out there enjoyed it and thought this highly of it still makes me happy and not want to give up on this story

[sparxwrites]

Could you maybe talk about your thoughts on c!Techno? I always thought he had the potential to be a really great character, but something about him just kinda falls flat for me. Idk if it's how his style of humor mixes with the angstier plot around him, or the whole "never dies" power fantasy, or not understanding his ideology, or whatever. I really, really, really want to like him, but I don't know what I'm missing

c!Techno frustrates me, because he's got a lot of stuff I like in a character - really interesting flaws, an occasionally tender heart, an inability to see past his own nose (or snout), an enormous sword... And cc!Techno's style of fourth wall break and little jokey asides are, actually, also something I like - I have so much fun with little nods to the existence of the audience when done well.

The issue is, I don't. really think c!Techno is done well.

(Aaaaand the rest goes under the cut to keep the wank off of people's dash.)

I'm reluctant to speculate about the motivations of cc!Techno, because a) he's a real person, and b) he's put out a lot of conflicting stuff (both with other server members' narratives and with his own). But for me there's a few things that frustrate me about how he plays c!Techno: the inability to lean into the roleplay, the determination to always be correct (both out of character, which is just annoying; and in-character, without having any degree of authorial acknowledgement that that is a character flaw), the inconsistency of his beliefs with his actions (again, without any apparent interest in digging into this or acknowledging it as an author), the refusal to engage with anything that could possibly make his character seem weak, the refusal to acknowledge that narrative actions have narrative consequences, the refusal to be serious or in-character in moments that kind of really do demand it...

Don't get me wrong. If a character showed up and was like "I'm always right" and then applied their moral code extremely selectively and kind of retrospectively justified the shitty stuff they did to make themselves feel good... I would love that character. I would be so excited to see what was going to happen when that "I'm always right" was challenged; what happened when someone called them out on the selective morals; what the fallout would be when they could no longer feasibly justify stuff to themselves. I love those kinds of characters. They're phenomenal.

But I don't think cc!Techno is doing that. He's not really played c!Techno like that, and the comments he's made ooc about c!Techno have not indicated that's what he's going for. It's a similar issue with c!Phil - both c!Phil and c!Techno are deeply flawed characters, who have continually hurt people they profess to care about by using ham-handed "interventions" to try and "help" them whilst actively aiding Dream (who actually is trying to hurt those people!). And that is so interesting, but all I see the CCs doing is trying to justify their characters' actions as Uncontrovertibly Morally Okay which is a) not really feasible when they include, like, killing your own son and destroying people's homes, and b) just absolutely the most boring route imaginable.

I don't know why they do this. Are they self-conscious about the roleplaying? Do they just not care about the DSMP particularly? Do they genuinely think this is a good way to tell this story? Are they just fucking around and having fun? Are they playing a long game?? Idk. Some of it is also the inevitable consequence of having a lot of roleplaying beginners in a huge and very loosely managed roleplay without designated main characters - there's friction between not just characters', but authors', interpretation of events. But I do find it a little wearing also.

If I was writing Techno and Phil, I would take the approach of: these guys are very old, they've been around for a long time, and they're not exactly human. Death, suffering, morality... these all have very different valences for them, compared to regular mortal beings. They're something akin to gods, almost, in a very minor way. And this means the way they relate to humans is fucked.

You take a kind of Greek gods approach - they're so far removed from the struggles of the everyday that they just Don't Get It. They don't get what the big deal about dying is; just don't get killed/get your wife to bring you back. They don't get the big deal about destroying a city; just make another one. They don't get the big deal about being tortured or imprisoned or hurt; ehh you'll survive.

And then that gives you space for the kind of arrogance and power that both CCs seem to want to play with. It gives you space to genuinely care for people, but also to fuck up so so badly. It gives you space to be all-powerful and "always right", but without desperately needing the narrative to back you up on that rightness. It allows you to be callous and detached and make those little meta-jokes and not take much seriously - because, hey. Technoblade never dies. Philza Minecraft is the Angel Of Death. They're untouchable, ancient, immortal. What does a single server matter in the grand scheme of things, even if it does have some of Phil's kids on it?

You can then take that in two directions.

One is a flat character arc, where they hang around and cause problems, learn nothing, and then leave - either because the server is now a smoking ruin that's ended in tragedy, or because the server has gotten its shit together and gone "actually you need to Not" and they've gone "eh okay we'll go somewhere else. see you at christmas and birthdays i guess". Which I do love, I think flat character arcs are deeply underrated. (Also, they're just very funny? Like, it's the peak of comedy to have characters arrive, cause problems just by being in the narrative and thinking they know best, and then when the dust settles be like "my work here is done" and just leave having learnt nothing and made everything substantially worse without meaning to.)

The other is an arc where they do learn something - that actually if they're gonna hang around mortals then they maybe need to do their best to think and behave like a mortal when around them. That maybe they need to try for a bit of empathy, even if it's not innate. That maybe light-touch is better, and other people's lives aren't theirs to fuck with as they see fit. You get gods trying to play at being humans, with maybe limited success, maybe still causing trouble just because of who and what they are, but you get a mending of broken relationships by that attempt to relate - and the audience gets a fascinating look into the contact/conflict between a very familiar and a very alien style of morality.

(They could also learn it's fun to be a villain, I guess, but between them and Dream I think the server would be a field of corpses in .7 seconds flat.)

Either way, I think it'd be a better compromise than having the characters do objectively asshole things and then the CCs try to retcon them into being morally okay/justified. More than anything, I find it boring. I'm way more interested in morally wack characters (Dream, Quackity, Wilbur) than characters who are just Good (Tommy is a minor exception to this, but that's because he's traumatised and didn't do the Nice Neat Polite Sad Trauma route, which delights me).

[angstymdzsthoughts]

Madam Yu is having a bad day. It gets worse when her husband brings back that spawn of Cangse Sanren’s who proceeds to get her son’s dogs ejected because the boy is scared of them. If that wasn’t enough, at the Discussion Conference a few days later, Wen Ruohan begins to make not so subtle jabs at her position in Lotus Pier. She storms out of the meeting and sees a happy Wei Ying playing with Gusu’s second heir, Lan Zhan. She sees red.

After all, how dare that boy be so happy when he’s the cause of her misery?

By the time she comes back to herself, she’s being dragged away from the bloodied body of Wei Ying. She spares a brief moment to feel horrified and disgusted at her own actions until an ugly thought blooms in her mind: with this, maybe her life would go back to normal. The one she beat up was the son of a servant, after all. The consequences shouldn’t be that bad. She’s wrong. Her husband had apparently signed the adoption papers, making Wei Ying his son; meaning, she just beat up a young master to a great sect. She’s punished severely and stripped of her position.

The one saving grace of all this, in her mind, is that she never saw Wei Ying again. The second young master of Gusu had decided that he wanted to take Wei Ying with him and no one disagreed, not even Wei Ying, who agreed to go to Gusu. (If you want this to be angstier, maybe Wei Ying becomes selectively mute, or has a major injury that impacts him for the rest of his life, maybe add a sprinkle of dark!LWJ? Because there’s no way LWJ isn’t traumatized from seeing his new friend beaten up like that.)

Can we have Lan Wangji become selectively mute after witnessing that? Some nice mental trauma for the little Lan that still makes speech difficult for him even in adulthood.

I can see Wei Wuxian being taken to the Cloud Recesses for healing. Jiang Fengmian agrees so he has some time to deal with Yu Zixuan without worrying that she'll hurt Wei Wuxian again. Once the divorce has gone through and Yu Zixuan is banished to her families sect Jiang Fengmian goes to get Wei Wuxian and that's when Lan Wangji says he wants Wei Wuxian to stay so he can keep him safe. I doubt it would work, but maybe?

[awanderingdeal]

Good things come to those who wait.

So, a while back I wrote this fic for the Wolfstar Games 2021, and it ended up being really rushed at the time, but I have been through and edited it so I thought I'd share.

It's a wolfstar oilrig! AU and is one of the angstier things I have written, although there are a lot of moments of levity.

Content warnings: Past character death (sibling), Sirius grew up in a cult, trans! Remus, mentions of transphobia, very brief mention of queerphobia, racism, sexism and poorphobia (basically Snape is an asshole), storms, and nightmares.

I think that is it, but let me know if you want me to add anything.

Rating: T+ (No adult content, but some parts are on the heavier side)

If you like to read it on ao3, the link is here

The sky had taken on an angry grey colour, air thick with the upcoming storm. The wind was still a light breeze for now, but Remus could already feel a dull throbbing in his temples from the increasing air pressure. Tonks grabbed his wrist, pushing the bright orange jacket of his uniform up to reveal a battered looking watch. Remus let her read the time; he’d long since given up trying to convince his friend she needed a watch of her own at this point.

“A couple more hours before things get really bad,” Tonks hummed, squeezing his wrist reassuringly before she let it go. “Are you sure you don’t want to hide out with me in my room? Start some rumours?” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully, the dancing hairs seemingly unconnected to the rest of her facial muscles as they moved.

“Not worth the hassle of Snape finding out I’d been there,” Remus said, a sad smile on his lips. “I’ll be fine.” He knew he shouldn’t care about one transphobic assholes opinion, especially when Snape had proven he would’ve just found some other 'flaw' in his existence anyway. Tonks was too queer, Frank wasn't manly enough (whatever that meant), Dorcas was too Black, and Fabian and Gideon were too poor. Remus had come to learn there was nothing wrong with any of them, and everything wrong with Snape. Still, he didn't have the energy to deal with it today.

“Snake incoming,” Frank drawled from a few feet away, his chin resting atop his girlfriend Alice’s head.

“Speak of the devil,” Remus sighed.

Most of the crew were tight-knit; for some, a second family, for others, the family they had always desired. Most, that was, except for a select few who had decided they were superior. These individuals were informally known to the rest of the crew as 'The Snakes'. They didn't care who they stomped on to climb their way up the ladder. Thankfully, Snape was the only Snake who hadn't been evacuated, a fact Remus found suspicious, but at least it meant there was minimal idiocy to contend with.

“I'm locking up," Snape snapped, hands poised on the heavy door that led downstairs. "Any of you idiots still out here in five seconds are getting shut out. I hope you have a strong grip."

“Petition to shut him out by popular vote,” Tonks quipped, nudging her shoulder against Remus’ as they turned their backs on the sea to head inside.

“If only,” Remus snorted, falling behind Tonks so they could walk in single file past Severus, neither of them wanting to get too close to him.

“He makes me feel so gross.” Tonks shivered dramatically once they were out of Severus' line of sight, doing a perfect imitation of his greasy sneer. “Do you want to come and raid the kitchens with me?”

“I’m going to see if I can catch some sleep. Who knows when this thing will be over, and they’ll expect us to be ready to get back out here straight away,” Remus said. He tipped his head towards the lounge where a tall, blonde woman sat with her eyes fixed on the TV screen. “Perhaps you should invite Fleur?”

“Perhaps you should stop trying to be Cupid,” Tonks huffed, rolling her eyes. “Go. Sleep,” she admonished, smacking Remus lightly on the arm. “And remember, my Uncle will be in there with you, so try to keep those sweet dreams to yourself...unless…. you’ve finally got your head out of your arse and decided to tell him about that mammoth sized crush you have.”

“I have never denied that Sirius Black is unfairly attractive, but even those eyes do not compensate for the fact he is an arrogant prick.”

“He’s not -”

“I just need to get to know him better, you’ve said,” Remus interrupted, the words mangled around a yawn. “Excuse me if I wait for him to show his sparkling personality before I make any moves."

"Re -"

Remus shook his head with a small laugh. He and Tonks had discussed this more than he cared to count, but her persistence was admirable. “I’m going to bed. Try not to get yourself into too much trouble whilst I’m gone.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound fun at all.” Tonks coiled a strand of her electric blue hair around her finger, pouting, and then letting her expression fall back into something more neutral. “Sleep well, Remus. Hopefully this will all be over soon.”

***

The weather off the Scottish coast could be harsh on any given winter day, brisk winds whipping up the sea around them into a foamy chaos, until they were forced to down tools for a day or two. It usually happened at least once a season, a disgruntled crew furious at the delay - their bonuses were linked to completing jobs on time, after all. They could be annoyed, because they weren’t afraid. If they were still allowed on the rig, they knew the danger was relatively minimal. Ordinarily, at even the slightest hint of trouble, they were flown inland.

Sirius hadn’t wanted to be upstairs with the others, where worry permeated their stilted conversations. They'd been caught off guard, but Sirius trusted the people making the decision to keep them here. They were his family. In a predictable display of motherliness, Euphemia Potter had already text him. Sirius knew she must have been unimaginably busy, yet she had still found the time to reassure him that whilst it would get windy out here, they would all be safe.

'We'll see you next week xxx'

He read the sign off from her last text again. There was no doubt in it.

On any other given day, Sirius would just be waking up now. However, he'd worked through his normal sleeping hours to assist the rest of the crew with getting the rig prepared for their departure. His eyes burned and his muscles groaned with exhaustion, but Sirius knew he wasn’t likely to get any rest soon, not with the amount of caffeine currently coursing through his system. Resigning himself to being awake for quite a bit longer, he grabbed his e-reader and tucked himself under the sheets.

He’d forgotten about his roommate until the door opened, a long creak echoing through the room. He and Remus worked opposing shifts, so Sirius knew Remus more as a lump under his duvet than as a person. He was a very attractive lump under his duvet, but even Sirius was not shallow enough to believe that constituted knowing a person. Maybe Sirius knew that Remus was an incredible driller, that he was wicked smart and had a cutting sense of humour. He knew Remus always signed the logbook in blue ink amongst all the black, so he could easily find his entries if he needed to. He knew that Remus preferred curly fries to normal chips, and that he always carried a folded paperback in his jacket pocket. There was nothing special about any of that though; you couldn’t live on a rig without learning the basics about somebody, even if you only interacted in brief passing. Besides, Sirius had always been told he was observant.

***

Remus had been falling asleep on rigs for the last seven years. Each rig had its own quirks, and this was an older one that moved more with the waves than the newer designs. It was a nightmare for any of the crew prone to seasickness, but over the last two weeks Remus had come to find comfort in it. Today the rocking felt different though. It felt threatening.

He rolled over onto his left hip, hoping the adjusted position would help bring sleep quicker. The backpack he’d dragged up with him fell forwards onto his feet as he turned. Earlier, having it on his bed and ready to go had made him feel more at ease, but now the weight was just a stark reminder of the fact he should have been bedding down in a hotel somewhere in Aberdeen.

“Will you stop moving? You’re giving me anxiety.”

Remus jolted at the harsh tone of his roommate’s comment, an incredulous snort escaping his nostrils once he'd recovered. "Sure, because being stuck on a floating platform in the middle of ‘the worst storm to reach the UK in 100 years’ is not anxiety inducing either.”

“You heard Mad-Eye,” Sirius sighed, his voice laced with sympathy now. “It’s not going to be as bad as they thought, and everything is shut down. We just need to wait it out.”

“Wait it out,” Remus repeated, passing an irritated puff of air through his nose, He sat up, pulling his sheets tight around him and tucked his legs against his chest. Mad - Eye was their safety officer. Remus was sure Sirius had mentioned the superior due to his reputation for never taking even the smallest of risks. ‘Constant vigilance’, the young roustabouts on board would mock his motto as they repeated a safety check that had been deemed inadequate. However, Remus was no greenie. He was well aware that even if Mad - Eye was concerned, not a flicker of it would be detectable to them.

“Think we should be concerned about that sway?” Sirius asked, swinging his legs off the mattress, letting his feet hit the floor with a thud. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and peered up at Remus.

“Who’s giving who anxiety now?” Remus replied through gritted teeth.

“You’re really worried, huh?”

“Shit. What gave that away?” Remus flopped back against the pillow. “I don’t want to die here. I was just getting my life together.”

Day 15 of a 21 day hitch. They had all been counting down the days until they would get to see their loved ones again. Remus had been looking forward to seeing his Mum. He’d just been mending his relationship with his Dad. Things had been looking up for once.

“Nobody is going to die.” Sirius said it with such certainty that Remus had no choice but to believe him.

***

Sirius was getting restless. He didn’t like waiting for things. Growing up, everything had been waiting. His family had been in the inner circle of a cult, and that meant there were always eyes on Sirius. Waiting for hours, weeks, days. Waiting for his parents to fall asleep so he could sneak down to the kitchens. Waiting to sneak out the house so he could use the mobile his friend James had snuck to him. Waiting for the other cult members to leave their house so he could at least have the illusion of privacy. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. He’d had enough of it for a lifetime.

“They think the worst of it will be over in twenty-four hours.” Remus said. His roommate had stopped spiralling, the intense thrum of anxiety dulled into something less cataclysmic.

“Longest twenty-four hours of my life.”

Remus huffed a laugh. “You were the one who said we just had to wait it out.”

“I believe in the great truth of do as I say, not as I do”

“Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished,” Remus chuckled, glancing at the photo he’d stuck on the wall next to his bed. “That’s what my mom used to tell me when I would ask how long I had to wait for my tomatoes to grow.” It was a younger version of himself, limbs too long for his pre-growth spurt body, holding a wooden bucket brimming with that year’s first crop of tomatoes. He smiled, knowing that on the other side of the camera stood his mom, greying hair pulled into a messy bun and her work-worn hands covered in dirt.

“Well, fuck nature.”

Remus laughed again, louder now. He rested his head on his arm, the guard rail digging into his skin as he looked down at Sirius. He was tired, but each time his eyes fluttered closed a particularly violent gust of wind shook the rig and woke him.

“Just come down here,” Sirius patted the mattress next to his bed. “You’re going to injure yourself and wouldn’t that look stupid on a medical report.”

***

Remus thought about arguing, but the hesitation only lasted a second, plucking the photograph from the wall before he climbed down.

“You were so cute!” Sirius gasped, pulling the photo from Remus’ hand to look at it closer. “Wait,” his gaze flicked back up to Remus’ face. “Why are you still wearing your work clothes?”

Remus glanced down at himself. Oh. “I guess I forgot,” he shrugged. “I just wanted to get to bed.” He felt grimy now his exhaustion induced delirium was slightly less than it had been when he’d stumbled into the room. The day's work was evidenced on the bright fluorescent material, and he wanted nothing more than for it to be gone.

Sirius blinked at him slowly. “How do you forget - In fact, no, I’m not even going to ask.”

Remus blushed as he gathered his favourite soft plaid trousers and hoodie from the cupboard his possessions resided in. The communal showers were volatile, either blisteringly hot or icy cold, yet Remus longed to stand under the water. There was no way he was risking it though. Visions of his naked self stranded in the shower, unable to evacuate, flashed through his mind. No, clean clothes would suffice. He cleared his throat, steeling himself. “Erm...can you look away? I don’t really like getting changed in front of people.”

Sirius had already shoved the duvet cover over his head before Remus could finish his sentence. “Go ahead,” he said, voice muffled through the material.

Remus smiled as he pulled his work clothes off. Perhaps Tonks had been right about Sirius after all.

***

“Who’s that?” Remus asked, pulling the sleeves of his too-big hoodie over his hands as in climbed onto the bed, pressing himself close to the wall.

“That’s…” Sirius almost started regaling the romantic tale that was James’ and Lily Potter’s relationship, closing his mouth abruptly when he realised Remus wasn’t indicating the more obvious photo of himself and Lily, but rather one that was tucked near the headboard, mostly obscured from view by his pillows.

“Sorry, I was being nosey. You don’t have to tell me,” Remus said, pulling his lower lip between his teeth.

Sirius laughed at that. “Well, you do have a reputation for needing to know everything.”

“I do not,” Remus frowned, obviously affronted.

He might have found the tunnelling stare intimidating once upon a time, but now he lifted an eyebrow, meeting the challenge easily.

“Alright, so maybe I do. But that’s just because I’m a nerd and I like to know how things work. I don’t need you to tell me personal things if you don’t want to,” Remus said, the tips of his cheeks reddening. Sirius was beginning to realise how easy it was to make the blush appear.

“The one you pointed at is me,” Sirius smiled sadly. “This is my little brother.” He leaned back, plucking the photo from the wall and indicated the smaller of the two individuals. Regulus was sat between Sirius’ legs, hands outstretched to grab the book Sirius was holding. He could almost hear Regulus’ protests at the attempt to skip a few pages. It was out of focus, taken on a cheap film camera, but even with that, Sirius loved it.

“You look so similar.”

“We did. I guess we still do. Or would.”

Remus looked at him, his head slightly cocked, his frown a confused mix of curiosity and sympathy. “Is he? When was…”

“Yeah, he’s dead.” Sirius put Remus out of his misery. He’d always found it funny how even the most intelligent people seemed to become bumbling idiots when it came to discussing death. “He was 18.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t kill him,” Sirius shrugged. He’d heard the apology time and time again, and usually he bit back the irritated quip. Something about Remus made him feel comfortable though, the retort slipping through his carefully tuned filter.

Remus looked at him again, quiet just long enough for Sirius to worry he’d caused offence. “It’s just a saying but I know you know that,” Remus said calmly. “You can be an arsehole about these things though. It’s kind of allowed.”

“It’s been a long time, I’m not sure that’s true anymore,” Sirius ran a finger over the photograph.

“I don’t think grief comes with a time limit,” Remus rebutted. “Do you want to talk about him?”

“Not today,” Sirius shook his head, closing his eyes tightly to will away the tears. He turned and stuck the photograph against the wall again, letting his fingers run carefully over the grainy image for a second. “That would involve telling you about my birth family and me running away to the Potter’s and so much stuff I just don’t want to talk about right now. Thanks for asking though.”

“That’s…” Remus paused. “A lot. Of course you don’t have to talk about it. Can I just ask if by ‘The Potter’s’ you mean -”

“James Potter. That crazy engineer you consult with all the time. Yep,” Sirius grinned at the thought of his friend, his brother. “The one and only. And his parents. My parents now.” He waved his hand vaguely. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you one day.”

“I’ll always listen if you want to, but no pressure.”

God, Sirius really did want to kiss this man.

***

“Tell me a secret,” Sirius said, cutting the silence that had fallen between them. At some point Sirius had ended up back under his sheets, Remus was lying down now too, legs curled close to his chest in what should have been an uncomfortable position, but he was prone to contorting himself into weird shapes. It had been commented on before. “Not a big one. Just something I wouldn’t know about you.”

Remus hummed. He felt safe with Sirius, but really, he didn’t know him that well. A thousand secrets ran through his mind, a lifetime of closely guarded thoughts to choose from. “I used to pretend to be a wolf.”

“That’s...interesting,” Sirius chuckled, tipping his head back and releasing a hauntingly accurate wolf imitation, kicking his legs in a child-like fashion. Just like that, Remus began to question whether the suave, aloof impression he had of the man was accurate at all.

“Thought I might as well get the really weird stuff out the way before you decided to like me,” Remus deadpanned.

“Well, if that’s as weird as you get then buckle up sweetie, because boy, oh boy, do I have some stories for you.”

“This is a test. If you pass that then I might let you learn some more,” Remus admitted. He found himself wanting to spill his entire life story, every bit of gritty trauma included, but he’d learned a long time ago, that would be a mistake. Most people couldn’t cope with him.

“I’ll smash it,” Sirius grinned, his features smoothing out into something more serious. “For real though. You don’t ever have to tell me anything, but if you do, I won’t run away. I promise.”

Don’t make promises that you can’t keep, Remus thought. “Thanks,” he said.

“So, the wolf? Is there more to that, or were you just a weird kid?” Sirius teased.

“I was a weird kid,” Remus laughed. “There is a story though. When I was little, I loved wolves, and when I had nightmares, my dad would tell me to pretend I was a wolf and nothing could hurt me. Sometimes we’d lie in my bed and howl until I was laughing too hard to be scared anymore. I never grew out of it. Not really. Sometimes, when I just need a break from things, I just go into my head and imagine my wolf pack and what we’d be getting up to.” He flexed his toes, a phantom pressure building within them whenever he was nervous, or embarrassed, or in this case, both. “See, I told you I’m weird.”

“That’s not weird,” Sirius protested. “I think I’d want to be a dog though. I guess they’re not that different when you think about it, but yeah, a dog that has a nice family and goes on all these adventures and gets spoiled.”

“Padfoot.”

“What?"

“That’d be a good name for you. When you’re a dog.” Remus didn't quite know where it had come from, but he liked the idea of getting to name Sirius' alter ego. He had stolen the idea from him after all, so it was only fair.

“Padfoot,” Sirius nodded. “I like it.”

***

“It’ll be over soon,” Sirius soothed, resisting the urge to tug Remus closer as he felt the other man tense with the latest bout of angry wind. Remus had no such qualms and burrowed himself into the heat of Sirius’ chest.

“You don’t know that.”

The words were distorted against Sirius’ chest, still, he heard them clear enough. Sirius shook his head with a fond exasperation. “I do know that you’re incredibly infuriating.”

“I only speak the truth,” Remus countered.

“Fine, I don’t know that. It’ll take however long it takes, just like those tomatoes of yours and it doesn’t really matter how long that is, because we’re safe. Trust me.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Well, I would ask that you wait until we’re not having a near death experience before you shout at me,” Sirius laughed.

“Noted,” Remus nodded sleepily. “No shouting at Sirius whilst we’re drowning.”

Sirius refrained from letting the retort on the tip of his tongue loose, mindful of the fact it would probably just engage Remus in further conversation, and Remus needed to sleep. Dammit, Sirius needed to sleep too. A not - so - small part of him wanted to prod Remus awake, to ask him the myriad of questions Sirius had. What was this? Did Remus want to go on a date? Can I kiss you? Sirius would just have to wait. If he’d learned anything tonight, it was that. Guiltily, he hoped they didn’t wake up to still skies and a return to the normal business of the rig, where this conversation didn’t continue.

“No rush, okay, Mother Nature?” Sirius whispered into the dark. “No rush. We still have things to accomplish.”

[beca-mitchell]

do you think any of the other bellas Knew about chloe’s feelings for beca, during their years at barden? do you think she confided in anyone, got consoled by anyone? do you think she confided out of desperation, or coercion, or just because? do you think she toughed it out alone most of the time? do you think she and beca ever had a moment where beca asked if she was interested in anyone and chloe just gave a vague answer?

i think it’s one of those open secret type situations, but despite appearances, maybe Chloe wouldn’t necessarily be the person to just open up about her feelings...especially when she considers who it is exactly that she has feelings for. But she’s not good at hiding her emotions and absolutely would wear her heart on her sleeve. She might vague about it to a select few people. oddly i feel like maybe she talks to Lilly because she feels like Lilly is a good confidante. talking to aubrey is too risky. Emily’s sweet but seems like she’d be a bit clumsy with secrets. maybe CR but Chloe worries that CR will see through her vague-ing right away and know she’s talking about Beca...Stacie might be a safe bet. I kind of enjoy the idea of Stacie and Chloe bonding over other things...

Also the angstier part of me wonders if Chloe did really just keep it to herself. Because ultimately, she is three years above (three or two, depending on which birthdate you use I guess) the other Bellas and maybe she feels more like a mother hen than a confidante or friend (but of course Chloe doesn’t have difficult making friends). We know Chloe was the only Bella with her own room in the Bella house, so that probably adds some loneliness and isolation. Beca has Fat Amy (kind of...) so Chloe knows not to venture that when confiding. I think Aubrey would be a good confidante, but the distance sucks because Chloe is such a face-to-face kind of person. But hell yeah she would probably call Aubrey to complain.

And absolutely, I think Beca and Chloe likely had a lot of “what if” moments during their years at Barden. Maybe a few cuddles or snuggles after drinking a bit during parties...Beca asking Chloe sleepy questions because she wants to know and because she would never ask these questions if she were more awake...more sober, maybe. Chloe never knows how to react or answer. Feels shy, probably. I like to headcanon that Chloe absolutely respects Jesse and Beca’s relationship even though it breaks her heart...but it’s not like these little moments between them don’t make Chloe feel some type of way. She absolutely feels her heart threatening to burst out of her chest.

[annab-nana]

tips on starting a writing blog? im really shy and afraid it wont go anywhere <3

i would just say go for it! that’s what i did. i wanted to start a writing blog so i started writing. i didn’t really know what i wanted to write. all i knew was that i wanted to write for colby brock haha so i looked up writing prompts on tumblr and found one sentence and sprouted an idea from it and turned it into a fic. i remember like the first month or so, i just write fics. i didn’t interact really with anybody or reblog other content (i was new and scared. i didn’t know what i was supposed to do) but when i did start interacting with others and reblogging other content (gifs, pictures, fics, whatever) that is when i began making connections and friends and i got more attention i guess. like if you interact with other people, they will be more likely to interact with you. so that’s what i did to start so hopefully that helps with starting to write haha

be yourself!! the people you want to attract will be attracted by you and your personality. i’ve had people tell me that they don’t even care about what i post, they just follow me for me and i kinda love that so even if you are shy, it is easier to open up and be your true self online but i totally get it because i can be kinda shy as well especially in real life

let yourself grow and don’t focus on the numbers. it will take some time to grow so be patient with it. i remember getting excited about getting twenty followers and then a hundred and then two hundred and now i’m at 3.5k and i’m gonna be honest. i don’t really care about that number. it’s cool don’t get me wrong but i care about the select few that i talk to a lot and the ones that interact with me a lot whether it be someone who goes through my blog daily and likes/reblogs everything and their name floods my notifications (which i love so if you see this, this is not a complaint haha it is genuinely one of my favorite things) or someone who messages me a lot or someone who just sends me an ask every once in a while. like i may be at that many followers but i swear it feels wayyyy less than that and that’s okay. and the second part of that, don’t focus on the numbers because a lot of good quality work will get overlooked. gems are hard to find and sometimes don’t get the appreciation they deserve but it’ll be that one or two who come screaming in the tags about how much they loved your fic or how they come back and read it all the time and you also have to think about how some people will read your stuff and not interact with it no matter how much they love it so you really don’t know how many people have read it. writing for you and your enjoyment is the best thing ever because when i write under the pressure of trying to get something out for my followers, i always feel like it is way worse quality work in comparison to something i’ve written because i was inspired to write it

read! reading other people’s work will always help to improve your own. it can spark ideas. maybe you liked how they did something but you wanted it to end differently or wanted it to be angstier (is that a word? haha) or fluffier. tropes and cliches are overused, yes, but do you know how many times i will read a fake dating au just because i love to watch them fake loving on each other just to fall in love for real and then their time limit is coming up and they don’t want it to end. i know how the story goes but you better bet i’m gonna read it again. and i am a whore for enemies to lovers and i love the ‘there’s only one bed’ thing too. we’re all just using the same stories and making them our own so reading can help with that. reading can also help show you different ways to say things or do things. i used to write in first person pov and i liked writing like that but i kept reading second person pov and i really felt like it was easier to imagine it so i switched and i’m glad i did because that way of writing works better for me. reading can show you more vocabulary or different ways to write. like some people are very descriptive when they write and some people use a lot of metaphors. i personally think i use a lot of dialogue. some times i get into a really descriptive moment but i think my describing skills aren’t the best and i really wish i was better with metaphors because some people just write the most beautiful things with them but i do like my writing and so do a fair amount of others so i must not be doing to bad at it haha

here’s another ask i answered recently about writing advice that you can look at but i could go on and on about random little things if i’m being honest lol

if you have any other questions, don’t be afraid to send another ask or message me privately!! ily and hope that if you do decide to start a writing blog, it goes well :)

[purrincess-chat]

Will You Be My (Fake) Lover? CH9

It’s finally finished! This chapter is a little angstier than all the others, but it is almost the end. Told you guys I’d be giving Marinette a pixie cut by the end :P I pinky swear they’re gonna be happy next chapter. I promise!

Read on AO3

Chapter 9

“Boo.”

Adrien poked his head through the skylight, and Marinette glanced up from the computer monitor she’d set up for movie night. Her face softened as he climbed up and presented a plate of fresh cookies, and he leaned in to peck her cheek.

“Got everything all set?” He asked, placing the cookies on the cable spool.

“Just about,” she said, flicking the monitor on and waving the mouse.

He held out his arms for her to crawl into his lap, leaning his head against hers while she selected the movie and closed his eyes as she nestled in. It was the perfect night with the perfect girl, and if he had his way, all of this would be real soon enough. He almost had everything he needed to put his plan in motion, and the more nights they spent like this, the more confident he became that she actually liked him back.

His feelings were growing every day. Their goodbyes stretching longer, their good mornings so much warmer, their kisses far more passionate. He loved Marinette so deeply, and he hoped more than anything that she loved him too. He couldn’t bare being rejected this time. Ladybug was one thing, but if Marinette didn’t love him, his heart just might shatter having come this far.

“What?” She asked, tilting her head to the side, and he blinked.

“What?”

“You’re staring at me,” she said, and he felt his cheeks warm.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just can’t help it. You’re cute.”

Then it was her turn to blush, and a satisfied smile curled on his lips. Marinette had always flustered easily, but he liked to pretend that it was because she liked him too. He said things like that often just to see her fumble because for a minute he could hope. Plus, it was cute to see her cheeks flush as pink as the flowers on her shirt.

“I’m not even doing anything,” she said, her shrill tone conveying her embarrassment.

“You’re always cute to me,” he said, leaning down to peck her cheek. “You’re just cute.”

“You’re cute too,” she said, reaching to cup his face.

“Then I guess that means we’re perfect for each other,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers and teasing her lips with his own. He sighed in breathy delight when she claimed them for herself.

Soon nights like this would be real. Soon he’d tell her just how breathless she made him. Soon they wouldn’t have to pretend. Soon.

***

Marinette laid back against her pillows that night with a sigh, face hot. She stared up at her skylight, picking at the necklace Adrien had given her until Tikki floated over with a questioning look.

“What’s wrong, Marinette?” She asked, lowering onto her master’s stomach.

“It’s Adrien,” she said, sitting up and cupping the kwami in her hands. “Lately, I feel like…he’s different. Like, he actually likes me, and I don’t know if it’s just that we’ve gotten used to this charade or if it’s just wishful thinking or...”

“You two have been together a while,” Tikki said pointedly, and Marinette flicked her gaze over to the picture she’d cut from their fairytale spread tacked to her corkboard.

“Almost 3 months now,” she said, pursing her lips. “I don’t want to get my hopes up. I mean, am I crazy thinking that he’s been different ever since the gala? First he started buying me all these gifts, which I thought was just guilt, but then he said all that stuff in the locker room, and I catch him staring at me sometimes with this look on his face like…like the way I used to look at him.”

“Maybe he’s fallen for you for real,” Tikki said and Marinette’s heart skipped at the thought.

“Do you really think so, Tikki?” She asked. “Do you really think Adrien is in love with me?”

“Why wouldn’t he be, Marinette? You’re smart and kind, and you’ve been by his side this whole time. I’m sure he feels differently about you now than he did three months ago,” Tikki said, floating up to brush her cheek.

Marinette’s cheeks flushed, and she smiled at the lucky charm he’d made for her birthday resting on her shelf next to his picture. They’d come a long way since then, and she had to wonder how effective that charm was if she’d gotten herself into this mess. But maybe this was how things were supposed to play out. Maybe Tikki was right, and Adrien was in love with her now. Maybe…if she was lucky.

She shot forward with a smile, crawling from her bed as an image formed in her mind.

“What are you doing?” Tikki asked as she moved to her sewing machine.

“I’m going to make Adrien a gift, and this time, I’m going to tell him how I really feel.”

***

Adrien hummed on the way to his locker, his fingers tracing over imaginary keys. Her song had been playing on loop in his brain ever since the gala, and he spent most of his free time perfecting it these days. It had evolved a lot since he played it for her the first time just like his feelings had since then. It would be his final gift to her as her fake boyfriend and the first gift he’d give her as her real one. Hopefully.

“My, my, don’t you seem happy,” a sultry voice crooned, and Adrien’s spine stiffened.

“What do you want, Lila?” He asked without turning around, busying himself with shuffling things in his locker.

She’d been avoiding him ever since the night at the gala, but it was only a matter of time before she came back. She wasn’t going to take what happened lightly, despite having got off easy. Her thirst for revenge was unquenchable in that sense, and unfortunately for Adrien and Marinette, it was personal.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, twirling on her heels and leaning against the locker beside his. The small hairs on the back of his neck prickled, but he continued to face his locker with a steely expression much to her amusement. “That’s not a very pretty face.”

“I’m not exactly in pretty company,” he said, pulling his fencing lamé from his bag.

“I’m insulted, Adrien! Is that anyway to talk to a friend?” She asked, placing a hand on her chest. “You did say we’re friends, didn’t you?”

“I think you and I have different definitions of what constitutes friendship, and to be honest, I’m not really that interested in yours,” he said, not bothering to mask the bite in his voice.

“What a shame. And here I thought you were trying to convince everyone that you care about Marinette,” she said, examining her nails.

Adrien slammed the locker, meeting her taunting gaze head on with a glare. “If you so much as lay one finger on Marinette-”

“You’ll do what?” Lila asked with a laugh, but she shrank a little when he stepped toward her.

“I’ll end this little game of yours for good and tell everyone who you really are,” he said, and her shoulders relaxed, that crooked grin returning.

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” she said in a tone that was anything but convinced.

“Don’t test me, Lila. I’m done with your games and letting you walk wherever you please. If you do anything to Marinette, I’ll make sure you regret it,” he said, hands balling into fists.

Lila pushed away from the lockers, sauntering back up the aisle. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything to Marinette,” she said, pausing at the end to cast a smirk over her shoulder. “You’re going to destroy your relationship yourself.”

“Lila-”

“Toodles!” She waved with a sadistic giggle, leaving Adrien seething in her wake.

Adrien suspected that Lila had only been biding her time, waiting for the right moment to strike, but he wasn’t going to let her get away so easily this time. If Lila tried anything, he’d put an end to her reign and make sure no one fell victim to her lies again. White lies he could ignore, but Lila was threatening the people he loved, and that he couldn’t forgive. But it didn’t matter anyway. She was too late.

“Adrien?” Marinette’s voice echoed from the front doors of the locker room, and she appeared around the corner. Her smile melted away the bulk of his anger, and as he stooped to kiss her, his shoulders relaxed. “You okay? I saw Lila walk out, and…I got worried.”

“I’m fine. She’s just being her usual self and trying to get in my head, but it’s not gonna work,” he said, shaking his head as if to sift the lingering dread like sand.  “I’m working on a surprise for you.”

“Adrien, I thought we talked about all the gifts,” she said with a laugh, and she ran her hands down his arms until her fingers twined with his. “What’s the occasion?”

“Friday is our 3-month anniversary, so I thought that maybe you could come over for dinner,” he said, giving her hands a squeeze. “Nathalie already cleared it, so I mean, if you want to come, that is.”

“That sounds nice. I’d love to,” she said, and Adrien’s stomach filled with butterflies under her warm gaze.

When she looked at him like that, he truly believed that she loved him too, and in just a few days, they’d be together for real, far beyond Lila’s reach. Together. In love. Safe.

***

“You’re awfully smiley,” Alya remarked that afternoon in Marinette’s bedroom. Textbooks and notes littered the floor around them, and Marinette bit her lip, unsuccessfully masking the very smile Alya was teasing.

“Adrien invited me over for dinner on Friday to celebrate being together for 3 months,” she said with a shrug. “And I’m really happy.”

“Ya know, they say 3 months is when a relationship gets real. If a couple can survive 3 months together, then they’re statistically more likely to stay together long-term,” Alya said, leaning against her fist. “You two have been through a lot together, but it’s only made you two stronger. Honestly, you two are such relationship goals.”

“Oh, y-yeah, we just stay honest with each other, and things have just worked out,” Marinette said, and when Alya seemed satisfied, she averted her gaze. “I just…I really love him, and on Friday I…I hope I can tell him how much he really means to me.”

“Aww, girl, I’m sure Adrien knows your feelings for him are real. Nino says he talks about you a lot, and anyone with eyes can see how much you two adore each other.” Alya draped an arm over her shoulders. “You two are going to be just fine moving forward. Hey, let’s plan another double date soon. We can go ice skating, or I hear there’s a new painting coming to the Louvre for a little while soon, we can go-”

Marinette leaned her head against Alya’s with a contented sigh. For the first time since this started, she felt completely at ease. All of those schemes she planned never quite turned out how she wanted because she was always worried that Adrien would reject her, but as Friday approached, she didn’t feel afraid. She was going to tell him her true feelings once and for all, and she knew that this time would be different. On Friday, everything would change.

- - -

From the moment she woke up that morning, Marinette’s stomach fluttered with butterflies. Tonight was the night she finally told Adrien her most precious feelings. After dinner there would be no more secrets or lies, and tonight would be their first night as a real couple. She was sure of it.

Maybe it was the feeling hanging in the air as she walked to school, or the shy smile that Adrien gave her as he waited for her at the base of the stairs just like always. Their good morning kiss was soft, comfortable, familiar, and it carried all of her unspoken feelings waiting to burst free.

“Are we still on for tonight?” He asked when they broke away, lingering close.

“Of course! I’m looking forward to it,” she said, picturing the gift she’d slaved over for the past several days in preparation for this very moment. She’d known from the beginning that she’d have to tell Adrien the truth eventually, and tonight was the perfect time. She was ready.

“Me too. I have a Chinese lesson right after school, but you can come over around 6 that way we can spend some time together before dinner,” he said, pecking her cheek. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” she said, and his gaze softened in the same way it always did lately. Those soft smiles were meant just for her.

“Earth to the lovebirds, but you still have a full day of school before the festivities,” Alya cut in, and she and Nino gave them chiding looks as the bell rang.

Adrien took her hand, twining their fingers together as they walked, and Marinette thought about Alya’s words.

Anyone with eyes can see that you two adore each other.

She paid attention to the way Adrien’s hand griped hers tighter just before he let go to take his seat. The longing look he gave her before he turned around when Mlle. Bustier entered. How often he touched her when they were standing together during breaks, reaching for the hem of her blazer or rubbing her shoulders, touching her hair, her cheek, her hand. He barely seemed to notice he was doing it, or if he did, he didn’t show it. Adrien really did play the part of devoted and adoring boyfriend perfectly. Too perfectly, and Marinette had to hold onto hope that it was because he’d dropped the act and fallen for real.

“I’ll see you in a little while, okay?” He said that afternoon, standing on the curb.

“Yeah, see you soon,” she said, stretching up to kiss him before he climbed into his town car.

She watched the car pull away, heart fluttering, then turned to head home and prepare for the evening. She needed to look her best when telling Adrien her feelings. She had to wash her hair, find her lucky socks, make sure that every single stitch was perfect for his-

“That’s her.” Marinette paid little mind to the girls outside the bakery until they stepped into her path.

“You’re Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right?” One of them asked, and Marinette blinked out of her trance.

“Uh, yeah, why?” She asked, glancing between them. Something in the way they stood put her on edge. Her spine pricked, and the little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. If she was certain of one thing it was that these girls were trouble.

The girl in the middle sized her up, and Marinette squared her shoulders under her disapproving glare.

“I don’t get what Adrien sees in a girl like you,” she said, and her cohorts echoed their agreement.

“Excuse me?” Marinette bristled.

“Your parents own a stupid bakery, and Adrien is a famous model. You don’t deserve someone like him,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yeah! You’re just using him!” Another sneered, and Marinette’s jaw clenched.

“Adrien and I were friends long before we started dating, and he’s not shallow like that. He doesn’t care where I come from. He likes me for me,” she said, surprising herself with how confident she sounded.

“Adrien is a perfect angel, and he’s too naïve to see when someone is taking advantage of him,” the leader said, and it took every ounce of Marinette’s willpower not to transform into Ladybug and string the three of them up from the Eiffel Tower with her yoyo.

“I’m not taking advantage of him!” She shot back instead.

“Oh yeah? Then what’s this?” One of the other girls yanked the chain around Marinette’s neck, snapping it free. “Looks expensive.”

Marinette rubbed the sore spot, reaching for her necklace with the other. “Give it back! That was a gift!”

“I’m sure it was. Adrien probably doesn’t think twice about buying you whatever expensive thing you ask for,” the third girl said while the other dangled her necklace tauntingly.

“Give it back!” Marinette grabbed for it, but they yanked it away.

“You don’t deserve Adrien, so do us all a favor and break up with him already,” one girl said.

“What’s going on out here?” Marinette’s father pulled open the door and placed his hands on his hips.

“These girls took my necklace,” Marinette said, pointing to the second girl who stuck her tongue out.

“Now, ladies, taking things that don’t belong to you isn’t very-”

“You’ll never deserve Adrien, you tramp!” The third girl screamed, shoving Marinette into the window.

“Hey! Get your hands off my daughter,” Tom said, stepping between them, and while his back was turned, the second girl knocked over the macaron display right inside the door, scattering tiny cookies across the bakery floor. “Hey!”

Marinette managed to throw off her aggressor, but with her father’s attention torn, neither one saw the ringleader with the scissors until it was too late. She heard the snip in her ear as black hair fell to her feet, and her hand flew up to the pigtail, now a prickly nub. The leader smirked, waving the black strands in her hands.

“There’s no way Adrien stays with you now, ugly girl,” she sneered before the three ran off with Tom in pursuit.

Sabine rushed out as Marinette sank to her knees, pawing at her hair. Hot tears trailed down her cheeks, and her mother pulled her in tight, whispering reassurances. She’d faced some backlash from dating Adrien during all of this, but not like this. Never like this.

“They got away on the subway,” Tom said when he came back, leaning against the door frame and panting. “Sweetie, are you okay?”

Marinette stared down at the broken chain among her hair on the ground, the shock wearing off, and she shook her head.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up,” Sabine said, helping her to her feet. “It’s alright, sweetie. You’re alright.”

But she wasn’t. In that moment, Marinette was anything but alright, and her magical night with Adrien seemed lightyears away.

***

Adrien glanced at his phone again, pacing the length of the dining room for the dozenth time. Red roses lined the center of the table, flickering candles casting shadows on the walls. The house smelled of meats and rich chocolate, the kitchen clattering while the chefs worked just as they did every night, and Adrien’s stomach growled.

He glanced at the clock with a frown. Marinette was running late which wasn’t that unusual, but tonight of all nights, he really wanted her to hurry up. After fifteen minutes, he decided to give her a call. Maybe a playful bit of encouragement could get her there faster, but to his surprise, Alya answered.

“Hey, Adrien,” she said with a sigh.

“Alya?” His eyebrows knitted together. “Is Marinette with you?”

“Yeah…she’s here, and you might want to get over here too,” she said, and Adrien didn’t like her tone.

“Why? What’s wrong?” He stopped short.

“It’s…better if you come. Marinette’s really upset.”

His heart pounded the whole way, his leg bouncing while people crossed the street at a snail’s pace. As they approached the bakery, blue lights flashed in the windows, and Adrien leaned up to see a police car parked outside. Barley waiting for Gorilla to stop, he leapt from the car and raced to the front door where Mr. Dupain was talking to Officer Raincomprix. Mme. Cheng was sweeping broken glass and macarons, and when she saw him, her face fell.

“What’s going on? Where’s Marinette?” He asked, and she pulled him inside.

“There was a little incident. Some girls…Some girls didn’t think that you and Marinette were right for one another, and they made it known,” Sabine said, and Adrien glanced down at the pile she’d been sweeping. Broken glass, crushed macarons, and hair. “We had to cut a lot of it to get the sides even. Marinette is pretty shaken up. She’s upstairs in her room.”

Adrien’s stomach churned, and for a moment he thought he might be sick. But he put one foot in front of the other up the stairs. Nino was sitting on the chaise when Adrien climbed through the trap door, and he grimaced, nodding up to the loft where Alya sat rubbing a lump under the blankets. The soft sniffles grew louder as Adrien made his way up, and Alya glanced up with that same expression that Mme. Cheng had given him. They could try to mask it all they wanted, but Adrien recognized it for what it was: pity.

“She won’t come out. Mme. Cheng had to cut her hair pretty short,” Alya said, and the blob under the blanket wailed louder.

“Yeah, apparently some crazy fans of yours demanded that she break up with you then cut one of her pigtails off so that you’d dump her,” Nino explained with a wince. “Mega harsh, dude. I don’t envy you.”

Adrien cupped a hand over his mouth, and Alya reached out to him.

“It’s not your fault, Adrien. Don’t blame yourself,” she assured him, and he flicked his gaze to the lump she was comforting.

He crawled over to rub what he presumed was her back, but she recoiled at his touch, burrowing deeper beneath the sheets. His heart sank, and he bit his lip to hold back tears. Everything was ruined now. Marinette would never love the boy who dragged her into all of this. All he’d ever done was cause her problems, and he’d been a fool to think she could ever love him.

“I’m really sorry, Marinette. I understand if you want me to leave,” he murmured, shifting to crawl off the bed, but before he could move, a hand reached out to grab his wrist.

Her fingers shook, but she gripped tightly, silently pleading for him to stay. He eased back down, lowering his lips to her hand and lacing their fingers together. After a moment, she shifted and sat up, covering her head with the blanket but peeking her face out. Her eyes were red and puffy, bearing a look of defeat that would haunt Adrien for weeks.

No matter what anyone else said, he was the one that did this to her. Maybe not directly, but if he hadn’t lied to Nathalie then they wouldn’t be in this position in the first place. If he had just sucked it up and told the truth, then Marinette wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

“Can we see your hair cut?” Alya asked, brushing Marinette’s cheek with the back of her finger, but Marinette buried her face in her knees.

“No!” She cried, and Alya sat back.

“Your mom said it was actually kinda cute,” Nino offered, but when that seemed to make it worse, Alya shot him a glare.

“I look like my grandma,” she blubbered, and Alya moved beside her with a smile.

“But your grandma is cool,” she said, rubbing her back. “Come on out. Please?”

A hoarse whine rumbled in her throat, and Adrien nestled into her other side, resting his head on hers. She was small, he realized, so tiny and broken, and it was all his fault.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured in her ear, and she peeked around the blanket at him.

“Stop saying that,” she said, running a hand across her face. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, but…” He glanced over at Alya and Nino and bit his tongue. “I still feel bad.”

Marinette eyed him a moment before slowly removing the blanket and fussing with her dark hair, not much longer than Rose’s now. She twirled a few short strands around her fingers with a frown while Alya studied her.

“It’s not bad. You do look cute,” she said, and Marinette shot her a look as if she didn’t believe her.

“You’re always beautiful to me,” Adrien said, cupping her face in his hands. “No matter what.”

She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes, breathing him in. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. He held her close, and as he trailed his fingers through her hair, his chest tightened. He hated being so helpless and wished more than anything that he could turn back the clock. That he could be there to stop it. That he never asked her to do this in the first place. This was all his fault.

Maybe this was karma for lying to everyone. The universe was punishing him for being dishonest instead of just telling Nathalie the truth. Just like his Miraculous, he only brought destruction and misfortune everywhere he went, and perhaps it would be better for everyone if he kept his distance. At least then no one could get hurt because of him.

“Tell you what, you and I can go shopping for some cute hats this weekend. We can get all kinds of cute hair accessories too,” Alya said, rubbing Marinette’s back, and the girl in his arms gave a weak nod. “It’s gonna be okay, M. You guys have dealt with crazy fans before. You’ll make it through this time.”

“I’m gonna say something. I can’t sit by if people think this is okay,” Adrien said, shaking his head. “Anyone who would do this isn’t a fan of mine, and I won’t let them get away with it. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Yeah, because this has moved way past mean comments online,” Nino said with a grunt, and at Adrien’s wince added, “but I’m sure if you clear things up, people will chill.”

“Just tell everyone the truth, and I’m sure they’ll back off,” Alya said with a nod, and Adrien and Marinette both stiffened.

Unbeknownst to Alya and Nino, the truth was a luxury neither of them could afford. Theirs was a secret that, if leaked, would only make things worse, and no matter if he told it or not, Marinette would always be at risk if she was associated with him. Real or fake, he wasn’t safe for her.

Nino’s phone pinged, and he held it up to Alya with a wince. “We’ve gotta go pick up Chris and your sisters.”

“Yeah, Nora has a training session tonight, so we have to go relieve her, but I’ll come over tomorrow, okay?” Alya said, giving Marinette’s hand a squeeze.

Adrien felt his own phone buzz in his pocket, but it barely registered. Nathalie was probably wondering where he was, and if he didn’t leave soon, his father would get antsy. Marinette seemed to recognize what it meant, and Adrien realized that even if their relationship was fake, the connection they’d formed over the past few months wasn’t.

Marinette knew him better than anyone. She knew his schedule, his nightly routines, what foods he didn’t like, which alarms meant it was time to go and which ones didn’t. It shouldn’t have surprised him when she sat up and nudged him forward with a small smile that glowed faintly with that gentle affection he especially didn’t deserve after this.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, and he wasn’t sure if that was for his benefit or her own. Both, he deduced. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

They were quiet on the walk down, even the clamor of their footsteps seemed muted. It might have been the hurt lingering in the air, or maybe neither one knew what to say. But Adrien was already piecing his thoughts together, and he knew that this charade had gone on long enough. That the costs had far outnumbered the benefits, and their relationship was far more trouble than it was worth. Even if he asked her to be his real girlfriend, trouble would always follow them, and he couldn’t put Marinette through that.

“Guess our dinner date got ruined,” she said finally once they reached the bottom of the stairs, and when Adrien stepped through the door, she leaned against the threshold. “Maybe we can try again tomorrow.”

Adrien lowered his gaze to his shoes, kicking at the pavement with pursed lips.

“Marinette…I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said, flicking his gaze up to hers briefly before looking away again. “I’m tired of lying to everyone and pretending that this is real when it isn’t. I never wanted any of this to happen, and I never would have asked you to do this if I’d known you’d get hurt.”

“Adrien-”

“I can’t do this, Marinette,” he said, taking her hands in his, desperate green eyes baring into hers. “You’re too important to me, and I don’t want you getting hurt because of me anymore. I’m so sorry I ever dragged you into this.”

“Adrien, I made my choice. We can still do this,” she pleaded, but he was already shaking his head. “I don’t want to break up. Please.”

“Don’t think of it like breaking up. This was never even real.” He shrugged. “I have to draw the line somewhere, Marinette, and I’m drawing it right here. You got hurt, and that’s game over. I’m done.” He reached out to cup her cheek. “For what it’s worth, I’ve really liked being your boyfriend, even if it was all pretend, and I’m glad that you and I have gotten so close. I just hope that when things settle down that we can still be friends.”

“Of course,” she said, leaning into his touch as a single tear sliced down her cheek. “We’ll always be friends.”

“I won’t tell everyone that this was fake. I don’t want everyone to think you pressured me into this or something crazy. I just want you safe,” he said, and she nodded, pressing her lips together and wiping her eyes.

“I liked it too,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Being your girlfriend, I really liked it. Spending so much time with you…made me really happy.”

He pulled her in for a tight hug, breathing in her scent one last time. What he wouldn’t have given to freeze that moment and live in it forever, but they’d run out of time. Marinette had never really been his, and she never would be. How could she ever love the boy who ruined her life?

“We’ll probably have to avoid each other for a while until the breakup fizzles out, but after that, I want to keep spending time together. All of this has shown me what a good friend you are, and I want us to stay that way,” he said, pulling away. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Marinette. If anyone isn’t deserving here, it’s me.”

He stooped down and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, lingering close for just a moment longer.

“Good night, Marinette.”

- - -

Hey guys, I know I usually keep these Instagram posts upbeat, but something happened that I need to talk about. For the past 3 months, I’ve been dating a good friend of mine, and tonight some people decided that they knew what was best for me, so I want to be abundantly clear: Marinette is a very dear friend of mine, and all of the rumors going around about her are false. She is a wonderful and genuine person, and someone I’ve deeply admired ever since we met. She didn’t deserve what happened to her, and it breaks my heart to see someone I care about get hurt. That is why I have chosen to end our relationship tonight because I can’t stand to see her get hurt anymore. Please be respectful and kind to her. She is one of my best friends and doesn’t deserve all the hate. I have all the love in the world for her, and I hope that she will forgive me for what I’ve done. -A

Marinette hugged her knees to her chest and sighed, letting her phone fall onto her bed. Friday certainly had changed everything, but not in the way she was hoping. She’d known for a long time that their relationship wasn’t sustainable, but the hopeful part of her had wished for a happily ever after with her prince. She should have known better. Adrien was just as far away as he always was, and she was no closer to a fairytale ending now than she was 3 months ago.

She didn’t blame him. He was only doing what he thought was best. It wasn’t his fault that she was really in love with him, and in a way, it was really sweet of him to protect her. Despite everything, she couldn’t bring herself to be mad at him even if she should be. She’d suffer through a world of demons for the sake of an angel.

When her phone rang, she glanced down at the caller ID – Alya – and lifted it to her ear. It was only a matter of time before everyone called with their condolences. After all, their relationship was real to everyone else, and Marinette had to remind herself that they weren’t done pretending.

“Hey,” she said, voice devoid of emotion. “I take it you saw Adrien’s post.”

“Yeah, and that’s not the only thing I saw,” Alya said, and Marinette traced the caution in her voice. “Someone recorded your convo with Adrien outside and uploaded it. Why didn’t you tell me your relationship was fake?”

“What?”

[akozuheiwa]

What do you think would be angstier: Trollhunter!Aja and Changeling!Krel or Changeling!Aja and Trollhunter!Krel? (This assumes that Fialkov and Coranda are normal humans, btw)

Bold of you to assume, first of all, that I couldn't make both of them equally, horribly, beautifully angsty. There are SO MANY WAYS both of these could be played. Both of these will be assuming that the changeling sibling is aware that they're a changeling and an active part of the Janus Order. It got hella long so it’s under a read more to hopefully save your dashes.

I'll start with Trollhunter Aja and changeling Krel. Aja is, in true Aja fashion, thrilled to have been selected for this awesome, sacred duty, and if Krel wasn’t there for the finding of the amulet he’s immediately told. Krel, meanwhile, is quite horrified, because like it or not he's gotten quite attached to his familiar's sister. He'd had this whole plan; get far enough into Gunmar's good graces that he could get Aja and the parents spared. No amount of being in Gunmar's good graces is going to get her spared if she's the Trollhunter, though. No, now he needs a back-up plan and fast, before Aja figures out about changelings and before anyone figures out that Aja's the Trollhunter. That goes about as well as expected, because Bular sees them together and then it's all over.

So, obviously Bular's like, well, you're in the perfect spot to kill her and take the amulet. There are a couple of problems here. First of all, Krel knows that, changeling or not, he could not take on Aja in a fight. Problem two – the main one, the one preventing him from killing her in her sleep or something – Krel likes Aja. Krel doesn't want to kill Aja. He's broken all the rules in the changeling book and gotten woefully attached to his familiar's family. As far as he’s concerned, she’s his sister and he can’t kill her.

So he starts fabricating all sorts of failed “attempts” to kill Aja, which makes him look incredibly useless but keeps her alive. He also does his best to get in the way of Bular and his fellow changelings. He claims most of the time that he’s trying to keep his cover, and all of that, and he’s smart enough to be able to have believable excuses most of the time – and then his cover is blown. Like in canon with Strickler, when Gunmar doubts his loyalties, Bular finds a way to reveal him to Aja.

The fall-out is – bad. Aja is crushed by the fact that the person who she thought was her brother is actually a changeling and betrayed her. Krel’s stuck with a choice – tell Aja he’s been on her side this whole time or let her believe he’s a traitor. If he wants to keep protecting her, he has to let her believe they’re on opposite sides. He can only protect her in secret, because in his mind he’s not strong enough to do so out in the open. So he runs away, lets her think he’s one of the bad guys, lets the bad guys think he’s one of them.

Of course, since it’d be me writing, it would all go terribly horribly wrong. Krel wouldn’t be able to keep his double-crossing a secret for too long. I think Gunmar might end up giving him a task that there’s no way he could fail – not sure what – so he’d be forced to give up his charade. Or maybe Bular, upon finding out, would simply try to kill him. In that case, I think Strickler, maybe, would get him out under Bular’s nose and bring him to Aja.

Aja is initially wary, and maybe she thinks it’s a trick, but ultimately this is still the Krel she grew up with and now she’s hearing that he’s been protecting her all this time. She’s tried to kill him and he’s been protecting her. Once he gets better, Krel will rejoin Team Trollhunters (which at the moment may… just be Aja and Blinky and Aaarrrgghh!!! to be honest) and instead of working from the shadows, he’ll use his intelligence to help. Trollmarket is wary to trust him, so that’s rough, but Aaarrrgghh!!! and Blinky trust him if Aja does.

Now since that’s gotten long I’m gonna switch to Trollhunter Krel and changeling Aja. I had a lot of fun thinking of this one especially. To, you know, up the angst in this one, Krel does not immediately tell Aja. Because it’s me, we’re going to go ahead and say that a Krel raised on Earth has been friends with Seamus for a while, so it’s actually Seamus who’s with him when he finds the amulet. Krel decides pretty quickly not to tell Aja and makes Seamus swear not to tell her also.

Aja, meanwhile, finds out that the amulet has chosen a human. She does not know which human. She does notice Krel and Seamus acting strangely, but after some careful thought she determines the obvious explanation: they’re dating and don’t want it getting out to Seamus’s father. That settles her mind, because there’s no way Krel could be the Trollhunter. It’s Krel! So she keeps an eye on the rest of her classmates even though she kind of doubts it’s a teenager.

So Aja’s busy being convinced Krel can’t possibly be the Trollhunter, and Krel’s busy actually being the Trollhunter with Seamus’s help. It goes… surprisingly smoothly. Krel’s able to use his tech skills and intelligence to his advantage. Now, of course, you might be wondering about the whole Not-Enrique plot that I forgot to think about in the Trollhunter Aja part. Well, the way I’ve envisioned this AU, Coach and Steve’s mom got together a good it earlier. And Steve just became a big brother. So baby Palchuk-Lawrence gets taken and replaced with a changeling.

Krel, like Jim in canon, catches them taking the baby and finds a little stuffed bear and brings it to school. Seamus immediately recognises it, and he’s like, “Oh, yeah, that was Steve’s when he was little but he gave it to – oh, no.” So, much like Claire, Steve gets dragged into the Trollhunter business because of his little brother. We’d probably get a beautifully ironic comment from Krel about how he can’t imagine finding out his sibling was secretly a changeling.

Okay, so, anyway! Cut to that fun battle of Killahead! Aja still doesn’t know about Krel, but she obviously is supposed to be there to open the bridge and welcome Gunmar. She knows the Trollhunter will be showing up. Krel knows it’s a trap, and much like in canon, he has his backup ready to join him. So Krel gets there. And Aja is in human form. So that’s how they both find out, Aja that Krel is the Trollhunter, Krel that his sister is actually a changeling. He’s understandably shaken and betrayed. Aja is incredibly alarmed to find out her brother is her enemy.

The fight… happens. Similar to in canon. Aja probably really doesn’t want to hurt Krel, but Krel – I mean, we saw Krel after it came out that Varvatos betrayed him. He doesn’t take to kindly to betrayal. Anyway, the Trollhunters win. But, instead of Nomura getting sucked into the Darklands, it’s Aja. Krel is understandably cut up about this. They have to find an excuse for his parents, and Krel’s really not sure what to say. I’m thinking Steve gets the war-hammer and Seamus gets the shadow-staff, so that would also be really fun when we get to the Morgana stuff. But, anyway, ultimately, when it comes to the season one finale, a lot of Krel’s motivation to go into the Darklands is to save Aja.

This got really long but I love both of these ideas so I got carried anyway. Hope this is the sort of answer you were hoping for, and sorry it took so long to get to! <3

[shhhhyoursister]

that last hc about trans staff was amazing i can't stop reading, your writing is so good 🤯 thank you so much for that!!!! when you have time I'd love to read about what matteo said that hurt david and david walking shirtless but just when you can, don't worry :) again tysm

es hi hi yes okay idk why im very in the mood to write this suddenly i watched like a tiny snippet of the last clip again to look for something and this is totally unrelated to that but i remembered that i got this ask and felt filled with motivation for a minute despite my,,, total and complete exhaustion so sorry if this isnt great i just have feelings!!! im also probably going to write the angstier part of this another time, i was just really in the mood for cute fluff!!!!

The first time David did it, he was alone. Laura had left the flat for the weekend to do something for her job, and David had been excited to spend every single hour of that time with his boyfriend. He had been disappointed to find out that Matteo was busy that first night, and despite how badly he wanted to, David wasn’t going to try to pull him away from a movie night with Hans. He resigned himself to an evening spent ordering a pizza, lying on the couch, and watching movies while waiting for Matteo to text him.

He had gone back into his room to change after putting his freshly delivered pizza on the table, and he was taking his binder off as a thought crossed his mind. He had been feeling pretty good that day, body-wise. He had been having more of those days since Matteo, and he looked down at himself, shirtless and wearing a pair of what he realized were Matteo’s boxers, and put his binder gently on the bed. He glanced towards his hamper full of clean clothes and grabbed a shirt off the top, but didn’t put it on. He took a deep breath and clenched the shirt tight in one hand as he walked up to the door to his bedroom, turned the knob, and stepped out.

The first thing he noticed was that he felt a little cold. Not an uncomfortable cold, really, but cold in a way that was...very different than he had ever felt before. He shivered a little as he walked further into the room, and sat down on the couch. He leaned back into the cushions a little and shifted his shoulders against the fabric, feeling the way it rubbed on his bare skin. He smiled a bit to himself before leaning forward again, and grabbing a slice of pizza out of the box. He turned the TV on and selected the movie he wanted, and kept smiling through the whole beginning, despite the grim scene unfolding on the screen in front of him.

After he had finished eating way too much of the pizza to feel comfortable, he let himself slide onto his back on the couch. He rested a hand on his stomach and one behind his head as he watched the end of the movie, and he laughed when he noticed a little bit of the sauce from the pizza on his stomach. He wiped it away before selecting another movie with a grin. He ended up falling asleep about halfway through that one, and woke up to a text from Matteo asking when he should come over that night.

David’s mood carried with him throughout the day, heightened by the fact that his boyfriend was coming over that night. He even cleaned a bit, made sure his room was a little more presentable, and he was just straightening the blanket on his bed when Matteo texted saying he had arrived. He jogged to the door and pulled it open, and felt how dumb and big his grin was when he saw Matteo standing there with a bag over his shoulder.

Matteo gave him an amused look and leaned in for a quick kiss, and David tried to make it a little less quick but Matteo was already pulling away to put his stuff in David’s room. David followed after him, not ready for him to leave his sight, and after Matteo dropped his bag onto the bed he dropped himself into David’s arms. David grabbed him around the waist and squeezed him tight, and Matteo laughed in his ear.

“Miss me?”

David pulled back so he could kiss him on the cheek and then pulled away completely so he could see Matteo smiling at him, and he beamed back, before saying, “Literally anytime I’m not with you.”

Matteo blushed and rolled his eyes before leaning back in so they could kiss, and David pulled Matteo’s body into his and chuckled a little when Matteo made a surprised noise into his mouth. 

“You seem happy. Did you enjoy your night all alone?” Matteo said after they had pulled away again, his cheeks a little pinker. David shoved his equally pink face into Matteo’s shoulder and smiled into the skin there.

“Would have been better if you were here, but it was okay.”

They quickly ordered and ate food, and Matteo stole a piece of the leftover pizza when David mentioned he had gotten it the night before. They settled down after a little while to watch a movie, Matteo on his back and David lying on his chest, but after only about 15 minutes Matteo started wiggling uncomfortably under David. 

“Fuck, why is it so hot? Move for sec?”

David sat up with a whine and Matteo rolled his eyes again before sitting up and whipping his shirt off. David smirked and wiggled his eyebrows just to see Matteo laugh, and he did, with a, “Stop that, you’re a fucking idiot.”

He settled back down on Matteo’s chest and watched the movie for a few more minutes, before realizing how warm he felt himself. He sighed a little and rubbed his face into Matteo’s skin.

“I did that last night.”

Matteo hummed at him to prompt him to continue, so he sighed again before saying, “Took my shirt and binder off, and hung out on the couch.”

Matteo hummed again, and said, “And how was that?”

David thought for a second, before turning his head and propping his chin on Matteo’s chest. Matteo looked down at him and ran a hand through his hair, and David closed his eyes before saying, “Really fucking nice, actually.”

He opened his eyes to see Matteo grinning down at him. He blushed a little and turned his face back into Matteo’s skin, and felt Matteo’s other hand in his hair as well, and Matteo tightened his fingers and pulled his head back. 

“Why don’t you do it now?”

David’s eyes widened. He hadn’t been expecting that, but he saw the sincerity in Matteo’s goofy smile. He had been shirtless with Matteo before, a decent number of times. Never when they were just relaxing, however, and he admitted that it was a nice idea. He shrugged a little, and sat up again.

“I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Well, it’s really warm. You should do it, Laura isn’t coming back until tomorrow night, so it’s just me.”

It was just Matteo. It was just Matteo and David, and David didn’t have to worry. He was still feeling so good, and the idea of feeling his boyfriend’s skin against his own was too tempting to refuse. He nodded a little, and said a quiet, “Okay,” before tugging his shirt over his head and lying back down on Matteo’s chest.

Matteo was warm, but not in the same uncomfortable way the room was. His skin was soft, and David knew that, but he had a new appreciation for it in that moment. Matteo’s hands dropped onto his back and his fingers started tracing random shapes and what David thought might’ve been words onto his skin. 

He took a breath before letting it out in a long sigh, and he pressed a quick kiss to Matteo’s chest before saying, “This is good.”

Matteo looked down at him and smiled, running one of his hands up David’s spine and over his neck before sliding it through his hair, running through the curls and moving in such a calming way that David felt his eyes drooping closed.

He woke up a few hours later, and looked up to see Matteo snoring lightly above him. He was a little shocked that he had managed to fall asleep twice on the couch without meaning to in two nights, but he couldn’t stop his body from melting completely in Matteo’s when he felt their bare skin pressed together, and he smiled a little as he drifted off again, only waking once more, hours later, when Matteo tugged hard on his hair because he had gotten tired of watching David sleep. 

[leftbehindwords]

APH Mirror Week, Day 1: Magic

Note: What was supposed to be a short display of the differences between England and 2p England’s attitudes towards magic turned into a disjointed drabble that contains a small part regarding England’s thoughts on magic alongside a semi-character analysis for 2p England that unexpectedly dipped into angstier spirits than I had planned it to.

Apologies for the lack of structure (and the bad formatting, as I’m posting on mobile). I’d revise this if I had the time, but alas, I do not.

I have plans on possibly reuploading this soon - the general idea will be the same, but with a different structure and better flow.

--------

All throughout the centuries, one thing has always remained constant. Even before they nation personifications were born into the world, created through the strength of bonds between humans and bound to the land in which those humans resided in, magic has always been in existence. It can be found everywhere in this world - perhaps even others, though not one soul, mortal or otherwise, knows whether there are any - and it is the very essence of all living beings.

Arthur finds it fascinating. He himself is older than every human he’s ever encountered, and none of them know - or are to ever know - about it. In this modern era, the knowledge of their existence is a treasured secret that only a select few have the privilege to hold. Other than fellow personifications, there are perhaps a couple of dozen or so others who know what he is. And so magic, with its everlasting nature, enduring since the beginning of history, older than any personification that still walks upon this world - it takes Arthur’s breath away, to think of everything it has seen, everything it has touched.

Of everything it can and has done.

--------

There is no question that Oliver Kirkland is an odd man. To his neighbours, at least, he’s a spacehead at best and a nutter at worst. He also seems to have a tendency to set part of his house on fire every once in a while, and show little to no amount of worry about it. Still, Oliver’s neighbours think that, for the most part, he’s not all that bad. He’s always unerringly polite during the few occasions that his neighbours manage to catch a few minutes with him to exchange words, and he often gives them exquisite shepherd’s pie and various other foodstuffs during weekends and the hols.

None of them suspect that anything is amiss with Oliver, aside from how he seems quite disconnected from the rest of the world during the times they catch him unawares, staring into the nothingness with a blank look on his face, and they simply discount it as nothing but one of his quirks. And to Oliver, everything is just the way it should be. He has a decent relationship with his neighbours - is in acceptable standing with them, at least - and he… well, he goes on as is expected of one of his kind. He fulfills his duties to a satisfactory degree, does enough to appease whoever his boss is at the moment, and fills whatever spare time he has with cooking - whether for himself, his neighbours, or less frequently, his brothers. 

Oliver supposes that he lives a rather secluded lifestyle, but it’s the way he enjoys his days so he isn’t particularly inclined towards seeking to change it. There are also the rare occasion - major deviations from his usual routine - wherein Oliver is asked by one of his brothers to help them with something. More often than not, it involves magic in one way or another. Oliver dislikes doing anything that involves magic, and all his brothers are keenly aware of it, yet time and time again, they never cease to conveniently forget mentioning that whatever it is they need his assistance with requires involvement in such. He knows that he can always simply not help them, but he’s far too weak to resist others whenever he knows he’s needed. Wanted. 

And Oliver admits to himself that sometimes, sometimes, he hopes that maybe his brothers will at least make mention if they’ll be needing him to do something related to magic. Because they’re aware that he dislikes doing so, and that they care enough to let him know.

Sustaining that hope is an exercise in futility, however, he is much aware. Oliver’s brothers are far too invested in the study of magic to truly understand why he himself is not. Anyone else might think that perhaps their insistence on involving him in matters relating to magic must be their attempt to make him grow fonder of it, but Oliver knows better than that. His brothers do not care enough for it.

And as much as his brothers do not care about him, Oliver cares not for magic. He believes that it is nothing but a tool to be used whenever one so desires. All the years he’s lived has allowed him to learn how lethal it is, especially when in the wrong hands, and it’s done nothing but to reinforce his distaste of everything even remotely magical in nature. He has used it to hurt, to maim, and to kill - whether under his own volition or under the orders of his king. And so there is nothing in the world that will convince him to further study the magical arts more than he already has.

Such power, Oliver believes, is nothing to be celebrated nor revered. It is to be feared.

--------

If anyone is interested in a UK bros or CANZUK family Discord server, please check out my blog for the post I made about it. I would link it on this post but Tumblr seems to not like that and makes the post hidden when searching through the tags.

[hollymartinswrites]

Chapters: 10/? Fandom: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Domestic, Light Angst, Family Feels, Childhood Trauma, Adoption, Kid Fic, Adopted Children, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Marriage, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Are Parents, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Catholicism, Richie Tozier Has Issues, Extended Tozier Family, Medical Examinations, Stephen King References, The Shining References, Doctor Sleep References

Summary:

Eddie and Richie embark on the most terrifying experience of all—parenthood. Or, the author desperately needed a domestic, family fix-it for Richie and Eddie and it turned into a much longer, angstier exploration than I expected.

Chapter X: Richie and Eddie are taught a valuable lesson by their eldest daughter.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Eddie was silent for a long moment and Richie worried he was about to call the whole thing off when he suddenly nodded once. Richie exhaled a shaking breath.

“Okay,” he said and dialed the number on his phone. It rang several times, both men holding their breath, until a generic voicemail message began speaking. “Shit.”

Richie hung up.

“That’s definitely the right number?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah. Should we try again later?”

Eddie shrugged.

“You could leave a message, I guess,” he muttered. “I still feel weird about this. Maybe we should do a background check on this guy.”

“We’re not inviting him to our house, Eds.”

“Yeah, but people can find things pretty easily nowadays.” Eddie sighed. “Has Tess mentioned anything to you about this...shine thing lately?”

Richie shook his head.

“She’s been pretty normal,” he said. “She did cry the other day when you left for work but I think that’s because she didn’t sleep well the night before.”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair.

“And why’s it called a shine?” he muttered to himself. “What the hell does that mean?”

Richie shrugged.

“Sounds cooler than just saying, I have weirdass powers I can’t explain,” he offered.

Eddie sighed and shook his head.

“Let’s wait a while and then we’ll try calling him again,” he said. He made as if to leave the room when he paused suddenly. He turned back to his husband. “The other day, when you had her show me her...shine...she said she didn’t want to because she didn’t want to hurt my feelings. Do you know why she said that?”

Richie frowned and shook his head.

“I figured it was just because you’re her favorite,” he admitted.

“Shut up, she doesn’t have a favorite,” Eddie replied tiredly. “You gotta get that shit out of your head.”

“I know, I know, I’m just kidding,” Richie said, sounding like he was definitely not kidding.

Eddie leaned down and kissed him gently.

“You’re too old to let your self-confidence be dictated by a four-year-old,” he murmured.

“Hey, I accept the fact that I’m second-choice, Eds.”

“Well, you’re first choice for me, dipshit.”

Richie wanted to crack a joke about technically being his second what with Myra being there first but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut and enjoyed Eddie’s kisses.

Laundry was one of the few chores that Richie actually enjoyed. Aside from the occasional pukefest (he had learned early into parenthood that kids apparently can only puke in the messiest, Regan-in-The-Exorcist-style manner), it wasn’t that gross, and it was therapeutic to see a full hamper emptied and neatly folded clothes on the bed, ready to be put away. Plus, the smell of freshly done laundry was one of the best smells in the world and he could always convince one of the girls to help him with folding—so long as he put the TV on as they did so.

He was carrying a bag of freshly done laundry down the hall, wondering if Tess would let him choose what to watch as they folded when he heard hushed voices from her room. He paused. Now, little kids did tend to speak aloud to themselves, especially when playing, but this sounded...different.

He gently placed the bag of laundry on the floor and took a tentative step closer to Tess’s door, which was slightly ajar. Concentrating, he could just make out Tess’s young voice, speaking excitedly to no one. Holding his breath, Richie took another quiet step closer and listened carefully.

“I know,” Tess said happily, “I saw. And I’m getting better at it.”

Richie frowned. No one was responding and unless someone had managed to break in and not set off their house alarms, he and his daughter were alone in the house. And Tess, like Lydia, always provided multiple voices when playing alone with their dolls. Now, she fell silent, as if listening to a response only she could hear.

“I know,” she repeated, “thank you. I’m doing so good.” She suddenly laughed. “That’s silly, Abra!”

Breathless and with his heart pounding, Richie rushed towards the door and abruptly pushed it open. Tess jumped, startled.

“Tess?” he asked, breathlessly.

She suddenly looked around her room and pouted.

“Papa, you made Abracadabra go away!” she exclaimed sadly.

“I did?” Richie said, gazing around himself. Her room looked the same as always. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she shrugged. She lifted her coloring book and showed him the page she was working on. “Like it?”

“Yeah, great job,” he offered gently. He sat beside her on her bed and tried to decide how best to ask. “So...you were just talking to Abracadabra?”

“Uh-huh,” Tess replied, stretching out on her bed and flipping to a fresh page to color.

“What did...what did you guys talk about?” he asked casually.

She shrugged.

“Stuff.”

“What kinda stuff?”

“Ummm,” she said, “school and my shine and stuff.”

Richie nodded. Tess reached up to him with a crayon. He smiled, warmed by her natural kindness, and took it, leaning over to color with her. They were both silent for a while, content to merely color the page. Richie swallowed before continuing, “So, um, what does Abracadabra look like?”

“Like a girl,” Tess replied, selecting another crayon.

“A girl like you? Your age, I mean?”

She shook her head.

“No, bigger,” she said.

“Like Lydia?”

“No, bigger, I think.”

“A grown-up?”

Tess furrowed her little face before shaking her head again.

“Okay,” Richie said. “And she’s nice to you?”

“Oh yeah,” Tess replied, smiling, “she’s my friend.”

“Good, that’s good,” Richie replied. He fell silent and watched his daughter color happily. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

She nodded.

“Yep.”

“Hey,” he said gently and, with his free hand, tenderly lifted her chin so her eyes met his, “I mean it. You never have to be afraid to tell me or you Dad anything. We love you no matter what.”

“I know,” Tess replied, a mildly confused look on her face.

Richie gazed at her for a long moment before nodding.

“Alright, good,” he said. “You wanna help me fold the laundry?”

“Can we watch Wizard of Oz, too?”

Richie huffed a laugh.

“Yeah, kiddo, come on.”

Richie placed the last folded washcloth on the towering pile of laundry and leaned back. He reached down and reclined in his seat, once again grateful that he had convinced Eddie to spring for the reclining couch last year (though Eddie had insisted they were for old people). Once he was comfortable, he lifted his arm and Tess snuggled up against him, her arm thrown around his middle.

She sighed happily.

“You good, kid?” Richie asked.

“Uh-huh,” she said. She squeezed her arm around him. “I like this.”

“I like this, too,” Richie replied, his heart overflowing with love. She’s finally warming up to me, he thought.

“Yeah,” Tess said. “This is comfy. You’re soft.”

That startled a laugh out of Richie.

“I’m soft?” he repeated, glancing down at his daughter.

“Yeah,” she said. “I like it. Makes you comfy.”

Richie grinned.

“So I shouldn’t try to lose weight and get muscles?” he asked playfully.

Tess looked up at him, frowning.

“No way,” she said quickly.

Richie laughed and leaned down to kiss his daughter on the top of her curls.

“I love you, kiddo,” he said gently.

“Love you, too,” she replied, then brought her finger to her lips. “Shh.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, you’re right,” Richie said and turned back to the TV, where Glinda was singing. Richie wondered how many times he had watched this movie since adopting Tess but figured it was a lost cause. Well, at least it was better than most of the crap they call family films today.

Dorothy and the Scarecrow had only just met the Tin Man when the front door opened.

“We’re home,” Eddie called.

“In here,” Richie replied. Tess cuddled in closer against him.

Both Eddie and Lydia entered the living room, Lydia rushing ahead and breathless.

“Papa, I—ugh, this movie again?” she groaned.

“Tess helped me with the laundry so she got to pick what to watch,” Richie explained.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “We watch this movie all the time,” she pointed out.

“Lyds, I thought you were going to tell everyone what you got today at gymnastics,” Eddie said, trying to get her back on track.

“What’d you get?” Richie asked.

“Shh!” Tess hushed.

Lydia pouted as she glared at her sister. Richie sighed and picked up the remote, pausing the movie.

“Hey!” Tess exclaimed.

“Your sister has something to tell us,” Eddie said, raising an eyebrow at Tess, which only resulted in her pouting, too. “Go on, Lyds.”

Lydia, still a slight frown on her face, opened her rainbow tote bag and pulled out a colorful piece of paper. She held it out for her father and sister to see.

“What’s this?” Richie asked, leaning over as he read it.

“Says I’m the best listener,” Lydia mumbled, no longer excited.

“And most improved,” Eddie said.

“Hey, that’s great, kiddo,” Richie said happily. “You’re gonna be the next Simone Biles. Or even better than her. Not that it’s a competition or anything but...you know.”

Lydia smiled shyly and shrugged.

“Can we put the movie back on now?” Tess asked.

“How about you say congrats to your sister first?” Eddie offered.

She turned towards her sister.

“Congrats, movie now please,” she said quickly.

Lydia’s smiled disappeared. She turned towards Eddie.

“I told you she wouldn’t care,” she exclaimed. “No one cares!”

“Hang on, sweetheart, we all care,” Eddie said, reaching out towards her.

“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Richie insisted. “Tess is just being fussy.”

“Am not,” Tess shot back, annoyed at the insinuation.

“No, she’s being a brat,” Lydia declared.

“Lydia,” Eddie said firmly, “that was unnecessary. Your sister isn’t a brat. Apologize.”

“No,” she replied, suddenly sounding very near tears. “It’s not fair. She is so a brat because you guys love her more than you love me!”

Both men blinked at her in shock and Lydia clearly took their silence as confirmation because she continued, “You only care about Tess and her stupid shine thing. It’s just not fair! I’m special, too!”

“Of course, you are—”

“And she is so a brat, a big one!”

“Am not!” Tess insisted, now thoroughly riled up.

“Are so,” Lydia replied. She pointed at her sister, curled up against Richie. “You’re a big brat and Daddy only loves you because of your shine. That’s it!”

Tess instantly burst into tears, hiding her face against her father’s shirt and wailing. Lydia blinked and, before either of her fathers even had the chance to catch up to what just happened, ran out of the room, down the hall, and slammed the door of her bedroom closed.

Richie and Eddie stared at one another.

Over Tess’s head, Richie mouthed the words, “What the fuck?”

“Okay, so how do we handle this?” Eddie asked, his hands flying as he paced around the living room.

“How am I supposed to know?” Richie asked.

“You have sisters,” Eddie pointed out. “Wait, call your sister. See how she deals with shit like this with her kids.”

Richie sighed and glanced down at their youngest daughter, asleep on the couch. After a thoroughly intense crying session, only calmed down by both her fathers assuring her she was not a brat and they loved her equally and deeply, Tess had done the helpful thing and passed out. Frankly, Richie thought that most of the world’s problems could be solved by naps but they still had a pissed off Lydia to deal with and she was not one for naps.

“I think we need to talk to her together,” he offered.

“And say what to her?”

“I don’t know, that we love her?”

Eddie paused and ran a hand through his hair.

“I think we need to punish her for flying off the handle like that,” he said.

“Well, Tess kinda was being a brat,” Richie observed, wincing when Eddie shot him a disdainful look. “But yeah, okay, name-calling is a punishable offense.”

Eddie sighed, his shoulders slumped.

“Maybe if we can just get them to apologize to one another,” he murmured.

“Perfect, no punishments necessary,” Richie said, standing from the couch, careful to not disturb his sleeping daughter. “Come on, we’re in this together.”

“What, right now?” Eddie asked, wide-eyed.

“No, let’s keep our daughter in her room for a week, see how it goes,” Richie replied. “Yes, right now. Don’t be a baby.”

“Hey, no name-calling,” Eddie shot back. “She clearly learned that behavior from you.”

“Yeah, like you’ve never called me names,” Richie said, rolling his eyes. “You barely call me Richie.”

Eddie looked as if he was about to reply but thought better of it. He merely scowled as he followed his husband down the hall. After a moment’s hesitation, Richie knocked on Lydia’s bedroom door.

“Lyds, we’re gonna come in, okay?” he said gently. “We gotta talk.”

“I don’t wanna,” came the muffled reply.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Richie sighed. “We’re coming in.”

“But it’s my room!”

Richie couldn’t help it. He smiled.

“I tried that line with my parents many times,” he said as he twisted the doorknob. “It didn’t work in the 80s and it won’t work now.”

He opened the door and he and Eddie gazed at their daughter, sitting on her bed with a tear-stained face. Her arms crossed over her chest and her bag and its contents spilled across the floor. Richie felt oddly small in front of her angry, disappointed stare. Luckily, Eddie—already familiar with staring angrily and disappointedly—stepped up to the plate.

“Lydia,” he said gently, slowly walking towards her, “I know you were hurt but you can’t call your sister a brat.”

Lydia huffed and looked away.

“Look, she was wrong, too, and once she wakes up, we’re going to talk to her,” he said quickly, “but she’s still just a little kid. She doesn’t always know better.”

“That’s not fair,” Lydia muttered.

“I know,” Richie replied, rubbing his neck as he remembered his own tear-filled arguments with his sisters growing up. “I have a big and a little sister. Growing up, nothing seemed fair.”

Lydia glanced at him but quickly looked away, tightening her arms across her chest. Richie stepped towards her and sat beside her on the bed.

“Look, kid, it’s not easy being the older sister, I get that,” he offered. “And I know this family has been a bit...focused on Tess for the last few months but that’s just because we need to make sure you’re both safe and healthy. Not because we love one of you more.”

Lydia wiped at her eyes and sniffed.

“But sometimes,” she whimpered, “sometimes it’s like you guys don’t even know I’m here.”

Richie had had his heart broken several times in his life and each time he had thought it was the worst feeling in the world. Now, as he gazed at his daughter wiping away her tears, he knew all those other times had been bullshit. He fell silent, unable to put his troubled thoughts into words.

“Lydia, you’re our first born,” Eddie said, crouching down in front of her. “You think we’d ever overlook or forget you? Do you know how important you are to us? To this family?” Lydia hesitated before shrugging. “Your dad, sister, and I would be lost without you,” Eddie stated firmly, taking her hand.

Richie stared at the two of them, awed. Maybe it wasn’t Bill who had the way with words.

Lydia sniffed again and smiled softly.

“So we’re sorry if we ever made you feel that way,” Eddie continued. “But you need to say you’re sorry to your sister, too. And we’ll make sure she apologizes to you, too.”

“Okay,” Lydia sighed. “‘M sorry.”

Eddie stood and leaned down to kiss her on her forehead.

“Clean up your bag and come into the kitchen for lunch,” he said. “Rich, wanna help me?”

Richie blinked, stood, and followed his husband out to the kitchen.

“You handled that like a fucking champ today.”

Eddie glanced up as he tapped at his tablet.

“What?” he murmured.

“With Tess and Lydia,” Richie clarified, putting away their laundry in their drawers. “You knew just want to say to Lyds. I fucking froze.”

“You didn’t freeze,” Eddie replied. “You were good with her, too.”

Richie shrugged.

“I looked at her and just couldn’t...couldn’t find the words,” he sighed. “It was like looking at myself as a kid and I couldn’t even say anything.”

“Richie,” Eddie said, lowering his tablet and gazing at his husband, “you did good. You’re too hard on yourself.”

“I don’t know,” Riche mumbled. He looked over at Eddie and smiled gently. “Remember how nervous you were back when we first started looking into adoption? Look at you now. Fucking father of the year.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and smiled.

“You’re overreacting,” he said, shaking his head. After a few moments’ silence, he glanced up at Richie. “What are you staring at?”

“You, dipshit,” Richie replied, grinning.

“I thought we said no name-calling,” Eddie shot back, a smirk on his face.

“For the girls, yes,” Richie answered, walking over towards Eddie. He took his husband’s face in his hands and kissed him deeply. Eddie moaned softly against his lips and Richie was just about to move his hands to his waist when something started buzzing. “Fuck, is that your phone or mine?”

“Yours,” Eddie sighed. “Over on the bureau.”

“Ugh.”

Richie got up and hurried across the room.

“Whoever it is, tell them it’s after 9pm and we don’t take calls now,” Eddie said.

Richie grasped the phone and lifted it, his stomach clenching when he saw the unsaved New Hampshire number on the screen. He stared at it as it buzzed in his hand.

“Who is it?” Eddie asked.

Richie looked up at his husband, his hair disheveled and his face so sweet and inviting.

“No one,” Richie replied and placed the phone back down before returning to Eddie.