#it's the new story someone needs to write

[requiemforthepoets]

Would you be interested in writing something for Oscar? I feel like he would be the perfect guy to have your firsts with, so understanding and cute like imagine having your first kiss with him. He would be so understanding and would kiss you with so much care and ugh I need me a man like him☹️ would you be down to write something like that?

in a world full of wrong, you’re the only thing that’s right 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: the idea of falling in love scares you, but at the same time, you long for it. wanting to experience how it feels like having someone by your side.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you for your request! i’m sorry that this one took days, i had already finished the original version of this one, but i was not happy with it so i scraped it off and decided to write a new one. i had also took some creative liberty if it’s alright with you. i hope that this one is up to your expectations. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, no use of y/n, traditional upbringing, reader is an only daughter, overthinking, anxiety, fear of falling in love, and some fluff

You had never been in a relationship before Oscar. In fact, you had no idea what being in love was even supposed to feel like at all. So when your friends came to you, venting about their partners or asking for some advice, you would just sit there, nodding along, and pretending to understand everything that they were saying. But the truth was that you were clueless. You had never experienced the ups and down that they spoke of. No fights over silly things, no making up with heartfelt apologies, no lingering fear of being left behind. Part of you had always wondered what it would feel like to have someone special, someone to lean on, but another part of you was terrified–utterly terrified of the vulnerability, terrified of the idea that maybe one day, that person you end up with could hurt you.

You had been raised in a traditional household, the kind where dating wasn’t just for fun, but that is meant to last with the intention of marriage. Your parents always told you to be very careful, that relationships were serious and sacred. It doesn’t help that you are an only child as well, so your parents can be really overprotective of you. So, when you found yourself daydreaming about having a boyfriend, the thought would always come with a sense of guilt. You’d see your friends with their partners and wish, even just for a second, that you could have that too. But then again, these fears would creep in–what if he cheated? What if he wasn’t who you thought he was? What if you weren’t enough? The doubts swirled around in your head constantly. But then, everything changed when you met Oscar.

You met him in a way that you never expected you would. It was during a vacation in Monaco with some friends. The week had been loud and chaotic–late night dinners, laughter, and a bit of madness here and there. Needing some peace and quiet, you decided to stroll around by yourself. The streets of Monaco were breathtaking, and you let yourself get lost in the gorgeous scenery, with your thoughts floating somewhere far away. So far that you didn’t even notice the guy speeding towards you on his bike. Before you knew it, he swerved, narrowly avoiding a collision, but you lost your balance and tumbled to the ground.

“Shit! Are you okay?” The voice was concerned but soft, and when you looked up, you saw a pair of worried eyes staring down at you. He had already jumped off his bike and was holding out his hand to help you up. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Oscar said, pulling you to your feet gently. His touch was warm and cautious, as if he was afraid you’d break.

“No, no, I should have been paying attention,” you quickly brushed it off, though your heart was racing for more reasons than just the fall. Up close, he was…well, you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or something else, but he was strikingly handsome. You didn’t know if it was love at first sight or from the shock of falling, but something inside you shifted in that moment.

“You sure you’re okay? I feel terrible about this.” He frowned slightly, scanning you for any sign of injury. “Let me take you to a hospital, just in case.”

You laughed nervously. “I’m fine, really. There’s no need for that.”

He didn’t seem convinced at all, but after some insistence, Oscar backed off. “Alright, if you’re sure. At least let me make it up to you. How about some coffee? My treat.”

Well, that’s pretty much how it all began. One coffee turned into another, then into long conversations about everything and nothing. You couldn’t quite believe how easy it was to talk to him. Usually you’d find yourself nervous around guys, but he was kind, thoughtful, and never made you feel uncomfortable and pressured. Slowly, those coffee dates turned into something more, and before you know it, Oscar had asked you to be his girlfriend. Though you couldn’t help but cringe when you thought back to the moment you said yes to him. You had never been so flustered, unsure of how to respond, that instead of a kiss like a normal person, you just gave him a hug. A damn hug. You had felt his arms wrap around you tightly, his laughter vibrating in his chest.

“So I take it that it’s a yes, then?” he had asked, his voice teasing but soft.

You had nodded into his shoulder, very embarrassed beyond belief. But Oscar being Oscar, he didn't care. He hadn’t even brought it up afterwards, as if he’d expect nothing more than that simple embrace–and that’s what you loved about him. Oscar never pushed you, never made you feel like you always had to rush into anything. He was patient and understanding in a way that felt comforting. Sometimes, late at night, you would lie next to him, just staring at the ceiling, wondering how you got so lucky. The fears you once had, the doubts that plagued your mind–none of them seemed to matter anymore every time you are with him.

One evening, after spending the day together exploring the city, you found yourselves sitting on a park bench, watching the sunset. It was quiet, the kind of comfortable silence that you loved and felt like home.

“Do you ever wonder if this is all real?” you asked him, your voice barely above a whisper. Oscar turned to look at you, his expression gentle. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know…sometimes I just can’t believe this is happening. I never thought I’d be in a relationship like this. Felt overwhelming and surreal sometimes.” he smiled, reaching out to take your hand in his. “I get it. I never thought I’d meet someone like you either.”

You blushed at his words, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, squeezing your hand lightly. “You don’t have to worry, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

At that moment, you knew. You knew very well that all the fears you once had, all the time you had spent overthinking and countless anxiety–they didn’t matter anymore. None of it matters anymore. With Oscar, you felt safe, loved, and secured in a way you had never imagined. He wasn’t just your first boyfriend, he was your first in everything–the first person to show you what love really felt like.

Six months into your relationship with Oscar, you had managed to avoid what most people would consider a natural part of being a couple–kissing him on the lips. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, hell you definitely do want to kiss him so badly, to the point you had daydreamed about it plenty of times, thinking about how his lips might feel against yours. But every time you thought about it, your mind would spin, and your nerves would take over. You’d never kissed anyone before, and the idea of messing up, of completely not knowing what to do, terrified the shit out of you. Sure, you had kissed him on the cheeks, hugged him endlessly, but never once had your lips touched his. You couldn’t help but wonder how Oscar was so patient with you, how he never complained or pushed for more, he was very understanding in a way that made you feel safe. Sometimes, you even questioned how he could be satisfied or survived with just a few cheek kisses.

Yes, you had been raised in such a traditional household, but Oscar was special–so incredibly special–that the pressure you put on yourself to make the moment perfect felt overwhelming. Still, you knew that at some point, you’d have to gather the courage to just do it. But every time you tried to psych yourself up, you’d just freeze, thinking about it drove you crazy. There would be times where you’d hear people joke about you being a prude, or wonder aloud how anyone could go long without kissing their partner on the lips, but the truth was, you were just terrified.

Then came Baku. It was Oscar’s second win at the Baku Grand Prix, and you had traveled to the race with his family to cheer him on. The excitement in the air was evident as you stood by the barricades at the Parc Fermé, anxiously waiting for him to climb out of his car. Your heart raced as you watched him pull into the P1 space, his car coming to a stop, and pulled himself out of the cockpit.

Your heart nearly stopped when he stumbled slightly as he got on the top of his car, and you had to suppress the urge to vault over the barrier to make sure he was okay. But Oscar quickly steadied himself, he then pulled off his helmet and balaclava in one smooth motion, his hair a sweaty mess, but his eyes bright with victory. Oscar spotted you instantly, a wide grin breaking out across his face as he ran quickly towards you, and before you knew it, you were wrapped up in his arms. You held him tightly, feeling the energy and adrenaline coursing through him as he hugged you back.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered against his shoulder, the words almost lost in the noise of the crowd. “You were incredible.”

Oscar pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands finding their place gently on your cheeks. His thumb brushed your skin softly, and for a brief moment, the noise of the world around you seemed to fade away. He gazed at you with so much love in his eyes, the kind that made your heart flutter. Oscar had always been patient, understanding, never once pressuring you into anything you weren’t ready for. He knew about your fears, about how you hadn’t had your first kiss yet, but you had never told him why. Even without knowing the full reason, he had always respected your space and waited for you to feel comfortable.

But something was different today. The way he looked at you was different, and you felt it too–a shift inside you, a calmness you hadn’t expected. You weren’t scared at this moment, not with him. Somehow, Oscar seemed to sense that change too. He smiled softly, his hands still cradling your face as he leaned in just slightly.

“Is this okay?” he asked quietly, giving you the chance to back out if you needed to.

Your heart raced in your chest, feeling like it was gonna leap out from your chest, but for the first time in months, it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of love, out of excitement, out of knowing that this was the moment. You smiled up at him, nodding gently. That was all he needed.

Oscar’s touch remained as gentle as ever, his hands caressing your face as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. It was familiar, comforting, something he’d done a thousand times before. Then, he kissed the tip of your nose, making you giggle softly, your nerves starting to melt away. Then finally, he leaned down and kissed you on the lips.

The world seemed to stop as his lips met yours, soft and warm, and everything you had feared about this moment vanished. It wasn’t awkward or overwhelming like you had imagined–it was simple, perfect. Oscar kissed you gently, not rushing, not pushing for more than you were ready for. It was the kind of kiss that made you feel safe, like he was letting you know that this was just the beginning, and there was no need to rush. When he pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against yours, both of you smiling softly, sharing a private moment amidst the chaos of the race celebrations around you.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Oscar teased you lightly, his voice warm and full of affection. You laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I guess not,” you whispered, hands still resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

Oscar smiled, kissing your forehead again, and you knew in that moment that no matter how scared you had been before, being with him made everything feel right.

Later that evening, after all the chaos of the podium celebrations, press interviews, and flood of congratulatory messages, you found yourself in a much quieter setting with Oscar and his family. The energy from the race still buzzed in the air, but there was a sense of calm now, a comfortable warmth that filled the room as you all gathered around for a private celebration. You felt so at home with his family, like you were part of the family, and in moments like these, you couldn’t help but think of how lucky you were to have Oscar and this incredible group of people who treated you with so much love.

Dinner was simple but perfect, the conversation flowing easily between stories of the race and light-hearted teasing. You were sitting beside Oscar, with your hand resting comfortably under the table, something that felt so natural now, like an unspoken connection between the two of you. He would glance over at you every now and then, giving you that boyish smile that made your heart skip a beat every time. The moment you shared earlier at the track still lingered in your mind–your first kiss. It felt surreal, but in the best way possible.

After the dinner, Oscar had asked if he can spend the remainder of the night with you alone, to have some private moment. His family agreed and a few teasing had been made as well, but you and Oscar just laughed. By then, you decided to return to the hotel, to have some private and alone time with each other. Oscar sat beside you on the couch, his arms draped casually around your shoulders, pulling you close. His fingers played lightly with a strand of your hair as you leaned into him, your head resting on his chest. The bustling noise of the city seemed to fade into the background as you focused on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about that kiss all night,” Oscar whispered suddenly, his voice low so only you could hear him. Your cheeks flushed, and you turned slightly to look up at him, your lips curling into a shy smile. “Yeah? What about our kiss?”

He grinned, eyes twinkling with amusement. “It was worth the wait. I’ve been waiting for that moment since the day I met you. Being it during my win made it more special.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully, though the butterflies in your stomach refused to settle. “You’re just saying that.” Oscar chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently over your shoulder. “I’m serious. I’m not sure you realize how patient I’ve had to be. But you’re worth every second.”

You felt your heart was about to combust at his words, and you felt yourself melt a little more into his side. There was something about the way Oscar always knew how to make you feel special, how he could say the simplest things and make you feel like the most important person in the world.

You smiled up at him, your voice soft as you said, “I’m really glad it was you. I’ve always been scared of what it would be like, but you made it…perfect.”

Oscar’s expression softened, his eyes full of that warmth and affection you had come to adore. “That’s all I wanted. For it to feel right for you.” Leaning up slightly, you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, feeling a surge of affection as you did so. “Thank you for waiting.”

“I’d wait a lifetime for you if I had to.” he smiled, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

For the first time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi, I just wanted to ask: If you end up writing something for the monsterfalls au do you think you could do something where reader helps to groom Ford or Stan's newly acquired wings and them just loving the attention and care they give them? Also, love your stories and thanks if you decide to do this.

Stan, while thinking his new appearance was great for scaring kids on Summerween, hated his stone wings that weighed like a pair of cinder blocks.

They made sleeping difficult! How do you make sleeping difficult?! Apparently becoming a stone gargoyle.

That wasn’t even the worst thing either. Ford told him once after he complained about how his wings felt itched and irritated, almost like an itch he couldn’t scratch, that his wings needed constant preening whenever necessary as to avoid such situations from happening.

However Stan couldn’t exactly reach everywhere that needed preening and grew annoyed but his saviour arrived in the form of you.

‘Doll face! Just the person I’m looking for, would you mind helping me with my wings? They’ve been a pain in my ass this entire morning and I could really use some help in getting to the spots I can’t reach.’ He says as you examined his wings, strong and durable just like him, but oddly enough were soft like clay underneath; also just like him

‘I’d be happy to help Stanley but why me? You could’ve asked the kids or even Ford to help preen.’ You asked and Stan stiffened as he remembered the fact that Ford told him about preening; it was a mating thing to display the bond between mates amongst other reasons, which was mainly why he wanted you to preen his wings for him.

Stan scratched the back of his head. ‘Eh, none of them are in the house, doing their own thing or whether and even if they were they’d probably pull out the wrong feather.’ He quickly explains himself, hoping you’d buy it.

‘Okay, why don’t you lay down on your stomach and I’ll get to work.’ You replied after a brief moment of silence and Stanley sighed in relief as he was quick to flop on his bed, displaying his beautiful wings for you to gawk at.

Ford maybe a sphinx with pretty wings but you found Stanley’s wings even prettier, they looked as though they have priceless minerals within them, glistening beneath the light. They were a beauty to behold for those who actually cared to look at them and it never failed to take your breath away. ‘Beautiful.’ You murmured to yourself as you began to gently pull out the loose stone feathers that weighted like a pebble within your hand.

Stan felt like he could’ve fallen asleep then and there with how therapeutic he felt, he could feel his wings getting lighter with each loose feather you pulled, growling lowly in content as he closed his eyes and focused his mind on the way your hands carefully navigated his sturdy wings. He could’ve told you to be a bit rougher as they were like ordinary wings, but he throughly liked the way you treated them like they were glass and the way you run your fingertips in appreciation of them while counting the minerals within them, thinking he wouldn’t notice but he did and he couldn’t help but smile softly to himself.

He could happily stay like this forever if he could but he knew he couldn’t, so Stanley will take whatever time with you he could and keep it close to his heart to remind himself that someone does care about him and his stupid stone wings.

Ford took immense care of his wings but he often forgets that he has them when he’s deep in thought, which leads to him knocking stuff over, smacking Stanley, you or the kids accidentally with them and so on.

His wings were beautiful, majestic and fluffy, unlike Stanley’s which were the colour of gunmetal or cold stone or even gravel.

So whenever he forgets that his wings needed preening, he won’t know until you point it out to him, which is what you did.

‘Ford, did you forget to preen your wings?’ You asked as Ford looks over his shoulder and at his wings, where he could obviously see there was a few feathers that needed to be removed.

‘Ah so that’s why I’ve been in such discomfort as of recently, thank you my beloved for pointing it out. I shall preen them as soon as I’m done here.’ Ford replied but you pressed your hand onto his shoulder.

‘Why don’t you let me preen your wings for you?’

Ford blushed, he has read somewhere that pressing one’s wings was a thing only done between mates, or even that of a courting ritual amongst some bird species, but not only that but preening one’s wings was also seen as a means of survival and self care of one’s being. So the thought of the of you doing his wings for him had a whole lot more meaning to him as he would very much like you to preen his wings, but feared that he might make some…noises of enjoyment from your actions.

You saw his hesitance and said. ‘I’ll be gentle but then again it is all up to you as they are your wings, that and I don’t want to see you in discomfort or pain.’

Ford’s features softened as the blush died down. ‘Okay my dear I trust you with my wings.’

You smile as you sat yourself behind him and began to get to work in easing the loose feathers as carefully as you could, making sure you weren’t using more forced them necessary while praising Ford and his beautiful wings. ‘Your wings are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, but then again they only reflect the person blessed with such wings.’ You then sweetly kissed where his wings connect to his back, a sensitive spot for Ford, causing the man to take a sharp breath as you do so before relaxing once more.

He was a little tense to start off with but gradually Ford felt himself melt under your carful touch and caresses as he purrs low in the back of his throat, tail slowly swishing in a display of his happiness and content regarding the current situation. He knew from that moment as you placed the loose feathers into a neat pile by your feet that he didn’t want anyone else to preen his wings but you.

Then again he was never in dispute with this idea of you preening his wings, he was just a bit awkward and unsure how to ask such a task of you without it coming across too strong, or that you didn’t have a choice but to agree to preening his wings. He just wanted to spend time with you and it just so happened that his wings were also in a state of disarray when you came in, all of which was completely unplanned and purely coincidental, but Ford couldn’t help but thank fate for this moment for he would treasure it forever and always.

‘You okay Ford? I think you’re…purring.’ You spoke with a smile upon your face when you felt his tail hit against your foot, finding it adorable as the purring coming from him.

‘Yes I’m perfectly fine my dear, perfectly fine.’ Ford reassured with a smile upon his face. ‘Perfectly fine indeed.’

[lotusarchon]

nezha is a child in the show isn't he? why are you shipping yourself with a minor and writing romance with him?that's so creepy,,,, how are you talking about dynamicsimp when you're doing worst 🤮

Found this cute Nezha fanart anyways

I knew I had to deal with one of y'all eventually but I didn't think it'd be this soon. Damn, at least let me hit 100 followers first 😞

Anyways uh. Nezha's first introduction in season 3 came out in like, what, 2022? I'm assuming it is, because I started LMK in March of 2023, before s4 was released and already found the show up till s3 by then. S5 just released this year, of which we've seen a weird increase of Nezha screentime of which I'm not complaining.

Point blank. The Nezha age controversies are getting old and boring. New fans and old fans need to chill out with those issue about the age business.

1) It's confirmed the Lego Monkie Kid version of the deity known as Nezha is an adult.

2) This is a god of an Eastern religion who is still very much worshipped to our modern day. If you did your research, you should be able to take note that Nezha isn't only seen as a child god, but even portrayed as someone older. I'm not a Daoist nor Chinese, so I advise you check this blog ( @/ruibaozha ) for more information on the subject matter.

3) As is the case with modern media and adaptations, different shows will portray religious figures according to what works for their plot. In the movie Nezha 2019 (forgot the title whoops), Nezha is portrayed as a child, as we are seeing a comedic but angsty interpretation of his origins. In the Legend Of Hei, we see him portrayed as a child, assuming for comedic purposes and to bond with the MC Hei.

3.2) If LMK wanted to portray Nezha as a child like his appearances in Journey To The West, and the Fengshen Yanyi (?), you must understand then his design and personality would've been portrayed more childish or at the very least a mixture of mature and childish. We can see this by comparing LMK Nezha and TLOH Nezha = both are stern but where one acts, looks and often shows childish traits, the other acts like an exhausted 25 year old who needs therapy. LMK HAS made children in the past, as we've seen with the Lady Bone Demon's Host and in season 1 a few kids here and there as background characters. If the show wanted Nezha to be a child, I'm certain they would've given him a similar model.

4) If in the instance that, let's say, the god known as Nezha was a child, and LMK Nezha is an adult, you SHOULD separate fiction from religion. Do keep in mind that Sun Wukong is still very much worshipped, however, I have seen fans, in and outside of LMK, who have written heavy NSFW and simped for him. A god is not the same as a fictional character, because by that logic we shouldn't be simping much less writing NSFW of Wukong either, given his story in JTTW where he becomes a Buddha.

5) I do not like proshipping much like any sane person. I also HATE aging up minors in fiction just for something like self shipping or to write nsfw. I have been in fandoms before this one: Jujutsu Kaisen, Tokyo Revengers, and My Hero Academia specifically, and it makes me uncomfortable seeing porn written of actual minors with excuse of them being aged up. I'm not so hypocritical I'd dare to want to do the same, not when I'm uncomfortable with anyone else doing it. If LMK Nezha was a minor, and there were sources to even prove as well within the series he's a child, then obviously, I would NOT be shipping myself with him, much less write romantic/nsfw content with him. I'm an adult, and I don't feel comfortable with minors in general, so why would I want to write romantic content about a FICTIONAL minor??

If you can find any source that proves me wrong, I'd like for you to do so. But until then, you, and everyone else who still wants to entertain Nezha's age; please stop.

I get it. Some of you like to headcanon him as a child so as such, seeing content with him as romantic or nsfw is uncomfortable. I understand, I do; I headcanon Mei as an aroace lesbian so sometimes it's uncomfortable finding any kind of content with her being paired with others. I do understand where you're coming from with your discomfort.

But I feel like, considering season 5 and hopefully if there's a season 6, the whole thing is just dust now. S3 must've been released in 2022, so it's been nearly two years since Nezha's appearance in the show. People headcanon he's a child, and people prefer to like the confirmation he's an adult. We get it, that's what fandoms are, different views etc.

But calling people proshippers or creepy or pedophiles for not adhering to YOUR headcanons is not only fucking stupid, it's just hilarious and way too old, AND just...boring. Especially considering I feel uncomfortable around minors and hate proshipping with a passion. There's genuinely nothing wrong with liking a headcanon, but if someone likes something that isn't problematic and doesn't adhere to your preference, I think you need to breathe a bit.

I was saving this off for last however, you hit the nail on the coffin with this. There is a literal document talking about the disgusting actions of DynamicSimp. If you still choose to like them that's fine, but forgive me for pointing out how hypocritical it is for you to bring up the person who purposely shared porn with minors to someone who avoids minors like they're the rat plague of the Middle Ages. 🤔

"you talk about DynamicSimp but you're doing worst"

Do you mean writing porn for a character who is confirmed to be an adult? Do you mean ensuring that my 18+ blog isn't found by minors and if it is I'll block them? Do you mean supporting someone who's harassed others about Nezha's age?? Do you mean being an absolute creep around children?? Do you mean breaking the boundaries where people have clearly expressed discomfort? Do you mean romanticizing abuse amongst other things for an au clearly being consumed by minors with no regards or wellbeings?

I wonder who's the worst. Me, the adult who only recently turned 18 and has limited his interaction with minors outside of family members, or the however old they are person who has a literal document and their victims speaking up about their actions, and who to my current knowledge has not spoken up about this and is still posting and carrying on without a care in the world?

Well zoinks Scoob, guess we're not making outta this one alive 😟

Edit: .....*disappointed sighs* I think some people really oughta chill out in my comments. Anon, I blame this on you 😭 why did you bring this here holy fucking shit dawg.

Alright. Alright uh.

Okay, so while I do appreciate being told the reasons as to WHY Nezha was "aged up", because a writer wanted to justify shipping Wukong and Nezha...I feel like the entire, "ah, but this says, and that says here-" about Nezha's age is just ridiculous at this point.

Yes, I understand, this is justifiably weird.

However.

Has anyone else refuted Nezha's age?? And I mean the canon show writers? Has anyone working on Lego Monkie Kid made a statement saying: "This person is disgusting, LMK Nezha is a child." Because, respectfully, unless canon sources provide information on it, I'm not going off based on the fandom opinions.

I'm not happy I have to edit this post to add this, much less try to explain anything, but, oh well.

1) "Ali, you're just trying to justify yourself and keep writing for a child." Listen. I've been groomed and dealt with fucking weirdos my entire life. Trust me when I say whenever I hear about proshipping it SICKENS me to the core. I HATE proshipping. I don't care what the excuse is, proshipping is disgusting.

I'm not mentioning the interesting fellows in my comments because it's pointless and honestly to make drama over this is stupid. But I was given some context to understand where they're coming from, and I do in fact appreciate it. Justifiably I don't blame them for their annoyance/disgust towards the writer Sarah (?).

What I will say though; typically in a situation like this, I'm certain someone in the team would've made a statement about this to explain that the writer is wrong. I'd assume at least one writer, someone OFFICIALLY on the team would've denied this proclamation of Nezha being an adult. I have not seen ANYTHING that says the show denies Nezha being an adult.

2) My friend, who was also in the comments (hi), is a native Chinese and a Buddhist for six years. I also have another friend who I'm not mentioning but ALSO is Chinese and WORSHIPS Nezha. They have more knowledge than someone like me does have on this matter, and I find it really odd how people immediately cite wiki and website sources to say, "Nezha is an eternal child!", and, "No where else says Nezha is an adult."

As I've said. If there are sources including the staff from Lego Monkie Kid that claims Nezha is a child, then I am more than willing to delete any content I've made with him. Full honesty, I have no intention of keeping any content with canon, confirmed minors on my blog.

But not only have I found anything that says the official story writers deny Nezha's an adult, but my friends, who are again, both Daoist and native Chinese, are aware that he ISN'T an eternal child.

If you are Daoist and/or worship Nezha, then by all means you can tell me that what I'm doing is wrong and correct me about Nezha's age. I'm willing to listen. If you also find information where the writers claim Saraha is wrong for her statement, provide it. I'm a person that likes reasoning, and I'm willing to see reason.

3) "Ali, you're not gonna see reason you're just trying to defend yourself again-"

Okay, backstory time: last year when I joined LMK, when I myself was a minor, I thought it was okay to write nsfw content for the character who was Lady Bone Demon's Host. My friends at the time did not tell me what I was doing was bad, so of course I kept it up, until someone pointed out that Bai He (fan name) is actually a minor in the show and was also confirmed by the show's producers. I felt so disgusted about it I deleted all my posts made on my old AO3 about her (which is faeriicrafts and still up surprisingly) and offered a sincere apology to the fandom about writing nsfw content for her. I changed and learned, and now I feel grossly uncomfortable seeing anyone writing nsfw for her despite the canon confirmations.

Justifiably, if more information about Nezha is released within Lego Monkie Kid, of which it's confirmed he's a child, I am more than eager to delete everything I've written about him, and even apologize again for writing nsfw with a minor.

To be honest, I just feel uncomfortable with the comments who are denying actual Daoists for the sake of; "I've done my research, no other sources has said Nezha is an adult, you're lying about worshipping him!!"

It's uncomfortable and really off-putting how you can tell someone that about their religion. Yes, this is for you specifically, that one commenter who jumped in and on my friend. Even if she has long since stopped worshipping Nezha, she very much did once. And I've gone to actual Daoists to ask more information about Nezha and the religion in general, who has in fact confirmed Nezha isn't just a child. I get that this is the internet, people can lie about anything. But it's still uncomfortable, solely because had anyone else claimed they're Daoist or ex Daoist and agreed with your opinion, you wouldn't have said that.

I'll reopen my comments within a few minutes, but don't be a disrespectful cunt. And can you maybe not deny someone about their religion? Even if you don't believe them, that's genuinely not an excuse. Because I know damn well, had she agreed with your statement, you wouldn't have pulled that.

Gods. I can't say I'm not surprised, but I'm just impressed about the lengths people will go for something.

Anyways, I've said my piece. If official show writers (because my Daoist friends have already told me what I needed to know) claim Nezha is a child, I'll delete my stuff with him. If not, then I'm not stopping posting Nezha content.

Toodles.

[ghouldtime]

Neighbor! König Part 2

Follow up to this:

After you expressed interest in his miniature collection, he actually actively OFFICIALLY invited you over one evening (and inside!)

It may not sound like much to most to be invited into someone's house but for him, it's the ultimate trust. His house is his private space, his sanctuary, where he goes to be without other people

He doesn't ever invite anyone inside unless necessary or they've truly gained his trust and being invited INTO his house, and actually into a shared space of one of the hobbies that matter the most to him?? Yeah, that's how he says he likes you

He's been working on his models and dioramas for so so long he's incredibly proud and can't help but to want to actually show them off to someone who wants to see

Usually most people don't care :( or think it's weird

But you've embraced it! You're so excited and he's over the moon, he's having the best day ever, if you do research and bring him gifts or show him some new ideas

He has exquisite attention to detail and INSISTS on everything being exactly the way he envisions it. And you notice! You actually notice. Which means you care about his hobbies, the work he puts in, and therefore him

It might be a bit early to say the L word but he's feeling certain ways

He may be a big dude but that doesn't mean he lacks fine motor skills. He's laying those tiny pieces of moss onto the cobble stones like a PRO

Miniatures allow him control over the environment, even if it's on a smaller scale, and offer a way to keep his hands and mind busy so he often throws himself into it

It also helps him relive happier memories. He's afraid of forgetting them and when he's stressing, it's his happy place because he can look at them and simply remember the things in life that matter

He'll ask you about a story you like or a favorite show or book or movie. That's his next miniature planned (in secret. Can't ruin the surprise, he needs to have it all perfect. He will either read the book, watch the movie, will study EVERY detail)

He will start to invite you over when he's having a painting night or is working on them. You don't have to follow his rules or do what he wants! He's just happy you're there and appreciating it

He will always have your favorite snacks and drinks in stock too. Need to make it fun and can't have you going hungry

If you want, he'll put on background noise! He's happy to make it immersive and to light a candle or put something in a diffuser to really set the scene you're going for. But he's perfectly happy to hangout with you as is

You'll finally get to hear him laugh and hear his really, really bad jokes. He has a dry sense of humor and most of what he says isn't even close to funny, he's awkward like that

But if you laugh? That's it, he's sold.

Time flies so fast when you're over, you don't even realize it's 3am

You don't need to go home! I know it's right across the street but he has a guest room and it saves you the trip in the morning. You have a whole nother round of characters to paint :)

Okay maybe it was an excuse so you could see the curtains he'd made and the pillows and he decorated the guest room with! Like actually tried decorating. They're made with love, that's what counts right?

Did he spray the pillows with his cologne before you came over? Maybe, but he won't ever admit to it

You can't complain. Not when he insists it's no trouble at all, you should stay over, and he does everything he can to make you comfortable.

And you're certainly not complaining when you wake up to breakfast in bed

He's so happy to finally have someone to share his life with, even if it's nothing official. He might not say it because words are hard, but he'll always show it in every way that he can 💚

If you look closely at the replica he made of his childhood home, you'll notice two figures in the kitchen who just so happen to look like you and him

Proud believer of König being just a guy! A guy with hobbies! A guy with a calm domestic life! Just because he's a private military contractor doesn't mean he's a constantly violent dude or a guy who lacks an immense amount of respect for boundaries. Sure, he gets really into his job when he does it, but that's his realm! That's his zone. That's why he's confident and having fun, he knows he's good

Outside of work, he's just a guy with a troubled childhood making the best of life and trying to find his own sense of belonging, happiness, and peace

Justice for König, he's not an insane perv or some freakytron or some stalker :(

[itz-pandora]

Guys watch this before clicking read more

I have so many thoughts

THE PARALLEL BETWEEN MARIA'S WOUND AND THE DESTROYED MOON?!!! OH MY GOD!!!! OH MY. MY GOD. That's the entire reason I started writing my thoughts down because that's way past important. Where's that post about the symbolism and correlation between Maria's name and the moon because that's all I can think about

AND I LOVE how they're choosing to portray Maria recently, excited and eager for everything, even though it hurts her. Also how fascinated she is with earth makes me happy. I love the idea she'll just endlessly ramble to Shadow about Earth. Also her VA does a good job at letting you know how out of breath she is and how she's still all upbeat even tho she's literally about to pass out

Also ?!!! I AM GOING A BIT CRAZY AT SHADOWS PORTRAYAL!! I'm so hyped to see how he's interpreted in Generations. He seems so confused, and like each time period he's in impacts his personality heavily, like he's still with them on the ARK. He wants to save everyone even though he knows he can't and I'm SCRATCHING AT THE WALLS because of it. I think the way that they'll try to portray him going into the past is with him being only half-aware of everything, OR, HE'S TRYING TO LIVE A LIE TO MAKE HIMSELF FEEL BETTER. Ohmygod the second one makes me feel ill because he just wants to be happy, he wants to keep his little family together and safe, but he knows that the fate is inevitable, just wondering if he could've stopped it. It's haunting to him. The feeling of not being in control is present throughout the entire episode, where he's constantly dragged through each event, each one being more exhausting than the last. Everything is happening to him, he's not the driving force, and that's the sad part, he had an entire game about defining his identity, and still, he's always been a puppet to someone else, bent to their will.

I'M SO CURIOUS ABOUT WHAT THEY'RE PLANNING WITH GERALD BECAUSE ITS DEFINITELY SOMETHING. SHADOW WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU??? Shadow had to PHYSICALLY CLASP HIS HEAD BECAUSE OF THIS. I NEED TO KNOW.

Dude is this supposed to be Shadow's second traumatic flashback regarding the ARK, since in the hero story of SHTH, there's an entire level about the ARK where he plays with Maria as his sidekick, and it was triggered by hearing the sirens of the ARK (which I LOVE btw. Of COURSE he'd associate the noise with events since it's been drilled into his psyche before the amnesia)

I LOVE how scared he is at the end. He's sooooo panicked. I love how they give him the sparks when he's overwhelmed, it makes me feel so happy.

Who is HE?! It can't be Shadow before his memory loss, that guy did NOT SURVIVE. Also idk if they're going to return to the "pre and post amnesia Shadow are different people" thing they implied, because I think it'd be best to have it be like his memories are fragmented, and it's all about remembering, and THEN WE GET A NEW INTERPRETATION OF SHADOW?? Pls? Like not new but somewhere in between SA2 and after that, but with more little brother energy because MARIA IS HERE!!!!

GUYS WHAT ARE THOSE FLOWERS AT THE END AND WHAT DO THEY MEAN. PLEASE TELL ME SINCE THEY PROBABLY HAVE SYMBOLISM

This is so disorganized sorry I'm not normal at all

And ofc Eggman's piss was still on the moon. We love continuity

[sitp-recs]

Between the Power Lines by @tackytigerfic (M, 3k)

For Harry Potter, all roads eventually lead to Draco Malfoy. Or: this is not an AU! It's just Harry and Draco meeting by chance in an imported food shop in Connecticut and going on a road trip together. Featuring motels, cacti, Americana, and a hefty dose of pining.

In New Orleans, they got drunk on Bourbon Street, and Malfoy danced on his own (arms bare, laughing; Harry could have watched him all night) and later on, so late it was almost morning, they let themselves into the St Louis Cemetery—Malfoy unpicking the lock so sweetly—and walked around until the sky was pink-edged with the promise of another day’s heat. Then they sat on the steps of a crypt, watched over by sightless eyes of the statue of an angel. She looked exhausted rather than sad, Harry thought, and that made a lot of sense when he thought about his own longstanding, dull-edged grief.

It’s been ages (or 2 years) since I last wrote a rec for Tacky (I usually write for other readers, except when I’m reccing friends - then I write for them) and their birthday was the perfect excuse to put my reccing muscles back to work. I almost bailed out because I know this is one of T’s own faves and “what if I don’t do it justice?” but that tired angel banner has been sitting in my drafts for 3 long years and it deserves a proper rec!

Where to even begin? Anyone who knows Tacky is aware of their superb prose - rich and nuanced, compassionate, effortlessly funny, with a strong sense of place and a soft spot for suds scenes and filthy m-rated sex I mean devastating romance. Their writing breathes heart and personality, very much like Tacky themself. So knowing that this fic came out exactly as they intended it to should be enough to make you go read this right now, but in case you need further incentive, see below all the reasons why this oneshot is so special to me:

1. The *vibes*: if you thought that 3k is nowhere near enough to build the sexiest, most intriguing Americana atmosphere you’ve seen, think again. The aesthetics are impeccable here, decorating the beautiful and strange landscape - cacti and cheap motels included - into something peaceful and desolate, an overarching melancholy making it even more compelling. The dialogue is brilliant but the silences are just as loud and meaningful, with a quiet intimacy and a dreamlike quality that make you feel as if you're intruding a memory.

2. The romance: at this point everyone and their dog know that pining!Harry is Tacky's jam - they luxuriate in making us all suffer with him until the realization that Draco has been loving him back all along slaps us in the face. Harry is so stupid and desperate and wanton, I love it. And the way Tacky reinvents this delicious trope to make it work in new angsty ways blows my mind. Imo the slow burn is particularly effective here, a feat in any 3k story, because the narrative gives us so much character insight. We learn all the little things that make these two lonely boys tick as we watch their ever-changing perception of each other evolve from a tentative truce to reluctant confidants to a comfortable, easy love that comes naturally and earned. We often get those bits of information from imagery and emotions alone, no dialogue needed, and a road trip is the best way to explore those dynamics in a smooth, unhurried pace.

3. The journey: this is truly an immersive journey, not only physical as we keep jumping from one destination to the next, but also emotional, as we learn more about their vulnerabilities and desires the more they gravitate towards each other. This story shows that being far away from home can be both freeing and grounding, when you’re stuck with your hot enemy someone who knows about your darkest hour. It gives you the chance to heal and visualize a different future without forgetting your past or letting go of that which has shaped who you are. I love their chance encounter and how this poignant 30k love story is told in such impressive economy of words.

TL;DR: if you’re a short form fan and prone to melancholy like me believe me when I say it doesn’t get any better than this. The whole road trip shebang mixing grief, romance and nostalgia wrapped in Tacky’s lush writing is a gift to any reader and an elegant work of art. Enjoy!!!

[sunshinebingo]

A Gwynriel meet-cute fic inspired by my writer's block and the music video of I Hear A Symphony by Cody Fry.

Synopsis: Gwyn tries everything possible to put a stop to her writer's block, unbeknownst that her source of inspiration will appear right at her door.

Word Count: 2.4k

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

She sat, alone and upset.

She sat in her home, as lonely and desperate as she had ever been, and waited for a miracle to happen.

Gwyn crossed yet another sentence, the words becoming less readable with every line she frustratingly drew across them.

“Ugh. I’m a lost cause,” she complained.

What was she doing wrong? She was applying every advice she had received from her fellow authors, some of which had worked for her previous writer’s blocks. She was so desperate that she was even doing everything all at once to increase her chances at finally writing. Her head had been a blank slate for too many months now.

The first step had been to put on her comfiest hoodie and shorts, her hair up in a high ponytail, and to sit on her comfiest chair at her desk with some cool water. She was also using a pen and paper instead of her laptop. Typing everything out later would be an extra step, but one that she was willing to take. If, she hoped hard, she managed to write anything at all. In addition to all that, she was using a different colour than black, and had convinced herself that she was using a different font. If she always used Times New Roman, Arial or Calibri, her own handwriting had to count as a new font, right?

She even had ambient music playing in the background; the sound of a peaceful forest that she imagined her heroine – a nymph – living in. From the different sounds that floated around her, Gwyn imagined the nymph sitting in her little cottage, with a freshly polished dagger on a table next to a steaming cup of hibiscus tea. Magical birds could be heard chirping outside along with her ethereal voice humming. Occasionally, Gwyn could also hear tiny footsteps and giggles that made her think of the little folks that she had introduced earlier in chapter 3.

All the conditions were perfect. Every element was right here in her head; the setting, the mood, the time and weather. Yet it still felt like nothing was happening. As though she couldn’t get her heroine to do anything, no matter how hard Gwyn poked her with her mental stick. Perhaps she was also waiting for something more interesting than everything her creator came up with.

Gwyn sighed and rubbed her eyes. The bright pink was starting to hurt her tired eyes and making her annoyance with herself grow. Maybe she should have picked a different one among her many colourful pens. Could a glittery one work?

She took a few sips of water from her favourite mug, followed by a few slow and deeps breaths during which she wondered how the hell she had managed to publish two books in four years with a brain like hers.

Reading and writing were a passion that she had successfully turned into her job. It meant more to her than just paying her bills and affording everything she owned. It was her source of joy and fulfilment; what had slowly let her out of her safe shell and had given her a reason to live. At least it was all of this when the made-up creatures living in her head actually did things that she could write about. Her team of editors and publishers would never approve of a story where the characters only sat and waited for the unknown for half of the book.

“Someone could die,” Gwyn tapped her pen against her cheek and thought out loud. But for that to happen, she would have to come up with a motive and a plan.

She imagined her protagonist staring blankly at her as if to ask, “Really?”

She scowled at the pink ink on the white paper and asked, “What else do you suggest to spice up the plot?”

She refused to give up on her story midway through. Something would happen. She just needed faith in her creativity and her skills. And a prayer or two to the writers’ gods to send a genius idea her way. With little hope that they would listen, Gwyn plunged back into her story, where the nymph was still doing a whole lot of nothing.

She sat there, as lonely and desperate as she had ever felt, and slowly giving up on the hope that miracles could happen, when a rattling sound disturbed the quiet of her home. It persisted until…

“Wait a second.”

…until the author realised that the sound was coming from outside her own apartment door.

“What the hell?”

Both of Gwyn’s best friends, Emerie and Nesta, the only two who ever showed up at her place unannounced, were currently at work. Even if they had gotten out early, they would have knocked or called after finding her door locked. Which it most often was. The building that Gwyn lived in was quite luxurious with an excellent security system. But judging by the person who had been trying to forcefully open her door for the last minute, Gwyn’s anxiety about her safety began to surface again.

She stood from her desk and made her way towards what could be an intruder. Holding her pink pen up like a serial killer might hold a knife, Gwyn brought her hand to the knob. If she was fast enough, she could press the button on the interphone right next to the door as soon as she opened it and alert the security guard. But what if Frank was already dead and now the killer was coming for her? Gwyn damned herself for having gone with an apartment on the second floor instead of the twenty-second. What was the benefit of having one of the best balconies in the building if she was among the firsts to die?

“Pull yourself together Gwyneth!” she told herself.

Her heroine wouldn’t cower before the one trying to break through her cottage. She would feel the fear but confront it. Gwyn might have no dagger nor claws; she might have no magic to bring down her enemies. But, like her nymph, she refused to die. Not when she had a story to finish. Gwyn summoned as much courage as she had often infused her nymph with and yanked her door open.

What she saw crouching before her with a key in one gloved hand and a black and blue helmet in the other didn’t look like a murderer. Not that she had ever knowingly come face to face with one to know what they looked like.

Gwyn lowered her pen at her side as the man straightened and towered over her with strong arms and broad shoulders that were hugged by a black leather jacket. His brown skin glowed under the dim yellow light of the baroque-style hallway of the building. His hazel eyes were like a blaze that bore into Gwyn, even as the rest of his handsome face showed signs of surprise. There was a hint of confusion apparent in the frown of his obsidian eyebrows that matched the colour of his short, dishevelled hair.

He looked like a male straight out of a romantasy. The type whose looks alone could mark him as someone who is always broody. Until he meets the one who can effortlessly make him smile with an adorable laugh, a teasing remark or an irreverent challenging look; the latter being the kind a writer like herself would describe as a withering stare that would earn the object of the male’s fascination an amused chuckle.

Was he even real? Or had Gwyn dived so deep into her fictional world that she had landed somewhere inside it? If it was the case, then it meant that there was more to her story that she had yet to discover, since she had never met such a stunning man in that world of hers. She didn’t even know that such beauty and magnetism was possible.

He was just standing there in front of her. Yet his eyes seemed to hold a power that made it impossible for her to acknowledge anything else.

“Hello.”

The deep voice she heard didn’t sound like it was coming from her imagination.

“Hi,” she breathlessly greeted back.

“Uh... Hi... I was...”

Gwyn took in every single fumbled words that came out of his plump lips, ready to listen to him say anything. But he stopped and, for a moment, just stared at her with an intensity that she did not realise matched the way she was looking at him.

“Can I help you?” she asked when the silence stretched, hoping that she hadn’t looked at him like she had never seen a man before. Although she was still not entirely convinced that he wasn’t a manifestation of her fantasies.

The man shook his visible stupor away at her question and offered her a small yet very charming smile.

“I think this is my new apartment.”

Gwyn frowned in puzzlement.

“I’m sure it’s not?” she said like she wasn’t sure at all.

He cocked his head to the side in thought before looking around as though he had dropped something. Then, realising he was already holding it, he held his key up for her to see.

“Isn’t this number 9?”

Gwyn’s frown deepened until realisation struck her harder than a lighting bolt.

“Ah. I see.” Gwyn pursed her lips to hold in a laugh. “May I?”

She extended her hand to the mystery man and motioned to his key with a tilt of her head.

He raised a brow at her. A corner of his lips slowly tugged into a smirk that disappeared a few seconds later. Whether he was trying to consciously school his features or not, Gwyn didn’t know. But she enjoyed the mischief that she had glimpsed for a moment there.

“You may,” he said as he dropped the small object in her open palm.

Gwyn held the key chain up and placed it next to the engraving on the wall with her house’s number on it. She showed him how, in this way, the key chain formed a miniature version of the engraving, with the design being the exact same, except for the 6 of her house number which didn’t match the 9 of his key.

His eyes darted between the engraving and the key, and to the redhead who was playfully wiggling her eyebrows at him. Then he laughed, his rich voice so beautiful that Gwyn imagined it would be impossible to ever tire of hearing it. And when she laughed with him, she found that she very much liked the harmony that their two voices created.

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “That was very dumb of me.”

“I’ll give you that. It was,” she said with a shrug.

The man eyed Gwyn like he was disappointed that she had so quickly agreed. His expression only pulled another laugh out of Gwyn.

“Yours is the one over there.” She pointed at the hallway behind him. To the second door down to her left. “Next to the wall lamp.”

He look there before turning back to her. Gwyn dangled his key in front of him.

“You won’t get my home just yet but you’ll get to be my neighbour.”

She found herself curious as to what kind of neighbour mister handsome here would be. Would they come across each other at random hours of the day and night as they went about their lives?

The smile that brightened his face was more disarming than any that Gwyn had ever seen.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, neighbour.” He extended a hand to her.

“I’m Gwyneth. Or just Gwyn.”

She shook his offered hand with the same one that she still held his key. He took it with him as he slowly, almost reluctantly, pulled his hand away.

“I’m Azriel. Or just... Azriel.”

He cleared his throat and adjusted the helmet he carried under his left arm. Gwyn smiled.

“Alright. Just Azriel.”

They stood there in silence for a while. Their gazes locked, their hands fidgeting with whatever they carried. Gwyn was here and somewhere else at the same time. His body, his face, his voice, his mere presence stirred something in her. It was thrilling and also...intimidating.

He was like a mystery that was yet to be unfold. A story that needed to be written. Gwyn sensed in her writer’s heart that his could be one with pain and pleasure, ire and love. His eyes were a window through which she wanted to dive into his soul and learn all of his secrets. She also wanted to know what kind of man he could be in his most caring or vulnerable state.

Knowing a person in such a deep, all encompassing way was almost impossible. But perhaps, Gwyn wondered as her eyes widened, her version of him could provide her with the answers she sought.

“I – ”

“I – ”

“I should – ”

“I need to – ”

They both laughed at their synchronicity.

“I should go check my actual apartment.”

“And I should get back to mine. I hope you don’t get lost on your way.”

One of his brows rose. “I will blame your directions if I do.”

Gwyn crossed her arms and scowled at him. But the effect was lost with the smile that threatened to spread on her lips.

She watched him turn around and walk to his apartment. No doubt sensing her eyes still on him after he opened his door, “just Azriel” looked at her again. Gwyn waved at him. He winked, then stepped inside. Without wasting another second, Gwyn closed her own door and rushed to her desk.

Words and images formed in her mind like music flowing out of her imagination; a scene playing out like a musician effortlessly soaring through the notes of their symphony.

Gwyn immersed herself in it and let her hand glide across pages after pages of her notebook. She wrote about the nymph and her intruder, a mysterious male that became more real with every element she discovered about his character.

It might have been luck or sheer coincidence. It might have also been an answer to her hopeless prayers. Gwyn had no time to care. What mattered was that she was now inspired.

[smoothriverrocksrock]

GOD I WOULD KILL FOR TF1 DECEPTICON BEE!! The thought of him not wanting to leave Megatron alone after something so horrific warms my heart. I need a fic of them becoming friends. (do you have any more headcanons?)

I really hope to get to writing a fic for this, and I’ll definitely link it if I do! Kinda busy with other fics tho and since one is close to finishing I wanna start it after I’m done with that one

Well first and most obvious headcanon is that Bee has to have some MAJOR respect for D-16/Megatron purely because of that scene with him standing up to Sentinel. Genuinely, seeing Bee watch that had me in the theaters wondering why tf Bee would be horrified by D-16 killing him. B-127 is a better person than me because of I saw one of my friends get CARVED INTO it would be my last straw

My main idea for a Decepticon tf1 Bee story kinda looks like this (warning this gets LONG):

-He sees Megatron and the High Guard leaving, and he can’t believe it. He just got a friend group, he can’t just let it split apart! Especially not like this!

-With a quick number exchange, Bee tells Elita that he’s going with Megatron and it’s nothing personal he just wants to stay with him ok byeeeee

-Elita is kinda baffled, and Optimus absolutely takes it personally but in a sad “wait what if I’m in the wrong, oh no, now I lost two friends” way. Optimus wants to go after him and Megatron but Elita stops him. They both agree it’s probably best to give them all space and let Bee try and figure it out

-Megatron is also baffled that this guy is coming with him, but he feels relieved that at least *someone* familiar agrees with him. He won’t admit it tho, it’s a cold comfort after everything else that’s happened

-The High guard doesn’t really care rn, they just got banished (AGAIN!) and a friend of their new leader is probably good enough to keep around

-I imagine some of them are probably injured (most importantly Megatron), so Soundwave helps them highjack a train where they can take temporary shelter, get supplies/food, and rest. Starscream finds out the base got blown up and appropriately grieves about the loss of his awesome throne. Shockwave is revealed to be the best thing they have to a doctor. Rough times.

-Bee keeps trying to get Megatron to talk about what just happened, but he refuses. Bee eventually talks about how horrible sublevel 50 was because of the isolation, and promises Megatron that he won’t leave him alone

-Still cold comfort to Megatron. He just lost his longest companion, and he knows Bee could never compare. Bee also realizes this, but he’s trying his best

Lotta places the story could go from there, but I wanna keep it as a “Bumblebee inadvertently becomes the moral backbone of the Decepticons” type of story. I also wanna clarify that Bee is still totally down for murder, he just convinces Megatron to keep the guns pointed at the Quintessons for now

He also shares soooo much Decepticon gossip to Optimus and Elita, but never anything that could ever compromise the Decepticons. He’ll be like “You’ll NEVER guess what Skywarp just said today” and Elita will ask for boring stuff like “where are you based” and “are you eating enough” and Bumblebee refuses to have his friendships compromised by politics. Optimus appreciates this, and does the same. Eventually Elita will conform and send him memes

Also Soundwave and Bee become scout friends. This is the law. Bee is one of the only people who will contribute to the community playlist

[awkward-imaginations]

| Reunions and Rivalries |

tetsuro kuroo x f!reader

The first time Kuroo saw you was when he noticed you sitting with Kenma, happily playing video games together. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t surprised when Kenma mentioned he had made a friend on the first day of the new school year. He didn’t share much about you, but Kuroo knew you had just transferred to Nekoma High and somehow you had piqued his interest.

warnings/notes: highschool romance, fluff, slight angst, I do NOT write fanfictions or storys normally, this is a first, so I am generally sorry for everything. CRINGE. def will be cringe in some parts. I'm a big sucker for Kuroo, him and Kenma may be ooc but I don't care this is my silly story and I just need to get it out of my head so I can finally write my Master's Thesis in peace. Also, english is not my first language. This has been "proofread" by my friends (who are also non-native speakers, enjoy).

word count: 2659

former chapter | masterlist | next chapter

The familiar sound of Karasuno players shouting to each other filled the air as the Tokyo team approached. You walked next to Yaku, chatting casually, when suddenly two familiar figures came sprinting toward you.

“Y/N!” Nishinoya shouted at the top of his lungs, while Sugawara waved enthusiastically from behind him. Before you could even react, Noya wrapped you in a tight hug, nearly knocking poor Yaku off his feet in the process.

“Noya! Suga-Chaaaan~!” you grinned, pulling Sugawara into the hug as well. Noya, now gripping your arm dramatically, suddenly shifted his expression to one of exaggerated misery.

“Y/N!” he whined, pushing you away just enough to meet your eyes, still holding onto your arm. “You have no idea how terrible school is without you. It’s been torture!”

You laughed, playfully pushing at Noya’s shoulder. "Oh, come on, Noya. It can't be that bad."

"It is that bad!" he insisted, throwing his head back in exaggerated despair. "Ever since you transferred, it's like the life has been sucked out of our classroom. I can't even focus on anything anymore!"

Sugawara chuckled, shaking his head at Noya's antics. "I think you just miss having someone to cheat off of during tests."

Noya pouted, clutching his heart as if he’d been gravely wounded. "How could you say that?! I would never cheat! I just… I mean, maybe I miss having Y/N to help me out once in a while, but that's totally different!"

You smirked, crossing your arms. "Uh-huh, totally."

Nishinoya groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You don’t understand! It’s like no one else gets me. The energy in class is so dull now, Y/N! I'm completely doomed."

You rolled your eyes affectionately, patting Noya on the head. "You’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think?"

"Not dramatic enough!" Noya cried, throwing his arms wide for emphasis. "It's been painful without you. Seriously, how do you survive at that new school? Do they at least let you sleep through class?"

You chuckled. "It’s not so bad, actually. I’ve made some new friends, and I still get plenty of sleep."

Noya looked betrayed, his eyes wide. "New friends? What, and you didn’t miss us at all?"

"Of course I missed you guys!" You reassured, smiling. "But you know, life moves on. Besides, we still get to play Guild Wars together."

„Yeah, nice raid yesterday,” Nishinoya exclaimed, fist bumping you.

Kuroo, watching the scene from a few steps away, furrowed his brow slightly. “So, she's close with the volleyball team at her old school too?” he asked casually, glancing over at Kenma.

“Hm?” Kenma blinked, only half-listening. “Obviously,” he said with a shrug. “Why? You jealous or something?”

Kuroo scoffed, his expression tightening for a moment. “What? No,” he replied, though his gaze drifted back to you, now laughing a bit too hard—at least from his perspective—at something Sugawara said. His jaw clenched involuntarily.

“You sure?” Kenma muttered, still not looking up. “Because it kind of seems like you are.”

“I’m not,” Kuroo grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. “Why would I be—”

His words trailed off as Daichi approached you, a calm but warm smile on his face. He greeted you with a firm hug, his arms wrapping around you in a way that spoke of years of friendship. “It’s been too long, Y/N,” Daichi said, his voice soft. “It’s a nice surprise you’re here.”

You smiled, your face lighting up. “It feels like ages.”

Kuroo watched the exchange, feeling his heart sink just a bit. Daichi’s hug wasn’t overly affectionate, but there was a sense of familiarity between you two that stirred envy in him. He tried to brush it off, forcing a smile, though it felt stiff on his face.

“The third years used to be in the same class as her brother since Kindergarten,” Kenma said quietly, as if reading Kuroo’s thoughts. “They’ve known each other for a long time.”

Kuroo exhaled, rolling his eyes, though the slight tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “Great. Old friends,” he muttered, his smile feeling more and more strained.

Kenma smirked. “You’re terrible at hiding your feelings.”

"Wait… she has a brother?" Kuroo asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

Kenma gave him a surprised look. "You didn’t know? Yeah, L/N Ryouta—he goes to Nekoma too."

Kuroo’s mind raced. "L/N Ryouta? I don’t think I’ve met him."

Kenma shook his head. "Probably not. You’re in the university prep class, and he’s in regular courses. Still, kind of strange she didn’t mention him during one of your study dates."

Kuroo’s lips tugged into a slight frown. "We’re studying, not chatting." The fact that you had a brother he didn’t know about made him feel a little out of the loop. He didn’t like it.

Kenma shrugged. "It makes sense she'd be close with them. They’ve been hanging out since she was little."

Kuroo watched you laugh with Daichi and Sugawara, Noya had left you to help Tanaka “protect” Shimizu. You clearly had a lot of history with these guys. The way they greeted you, how easily you fit into their circle—it was obvious you were used to attention from boys. It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Just as he was about to look away, you caught his eye and waved, your smile brightening. For a split second, you seemed to hesitate, a faint blush coloring your cheeks as if you hadn’t expected him to be watching. Kuroo smirked, feeling a little more at ease now.

Daichi, noticing your reaction, raised an eyebrow. "Who's that?" he asked, his tone casual but curious.

You turned back to Daichi, still smiling. "Oh, that’s Kuroo, Nekoma’s captain. You should probably go introduce yourself."

Daichi nodded, though his expression became a little more guarded. "Right. I’ll go say hi."

As Daichi walked over, Kuroo straightened up, masking his emotions behind his usual confident grin. Daichi extended his hand, his smile polite but strained. "Daichi Sawamura, captain of Karasuno."

Kuroo grasped Daichi’s hand, matching his too-firm grip with one of his own. "Tetsurou Kuroo. Captain of Nekoma."

Both captains forced smiles, but in the back of their minds, they had the same thought: I don’t like this guy.

“So… you’re not their manager?” Sugawara asked, giving you a playful nudge as he leaned against the wall next to you in the gym, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Nope,” you chuckled. "I’m just here for moral support.”

Sugawara laughed. “Then I can support you supporting. We've got a cracking new setter, so I'll probably be on the bench the whole time.”

There was an ease between you and Sugawara that came with familiarity. You caught up on everything—school, mutual friends, and volleyball, of course. Time slipped away as the two of you talked, oblivious to anything else happening on the court.

Except someone was paying attention.

From across the gym, Kuroo’s gaze flickered toward you more than once. He tried to brush it off, but the more you laughed with Sugawara, the harder it was to ignore the twist in his chest.

“Oi, Kuro,” Kenma muttered, not even looking at him as he noticed the subtle tension radiating off his captain. “What’s up with you?”

Kuroo blinked, dragging his gaze back to the court just in time to see one of Karasuno's players miss a spike. “What do you mean? Nothing's up.”

Kenma sighed. “You’ve been staring over there for the last ten minutes. You’re distracted.”

“Distracted?” Kuroo scoffed, though his eyes flicked once again in your direction—watching as Sugawara leaned in to say something that made you laugh. Why does he get to make you laugh like that? Kuroo felt his jaw tighten. “I’m not distracted. Just… keeping an eye on the competition. You know, strategy.”

Kenma raised an eyebrow. “Sugawara isn’t even playing.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, “You mean Suga-Chaaan~,” he mocked your greeting only to feign indifference afterwards. “I’m not watching him. Why would I care about some third year who isn’t even in starting lineup?”

Kenma looked at him blankly for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know. Why would you care?”

“I don’t,” Kuroo huffed. “As I already said, it’s not like I’m jealous or anything.”

Kenma eyes flicked toward Sugawara, then back to Kuroo. “I didn’t say you were.”

“I’m not,” Kuroo added, a little too quickly. “I mean—”

“Kuro,” Kenma interrupted, his deadpan expression growing sharper.

“I—" Kuroo hesitated, suddenly aware of how ridiculous he sounded. “I’m just looking out for her.”

Kenma’s lips twitched into the slightest hint of a smirk. “Sure.”

Across the court, Sugawara was finishing a story, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. You laughed, leaning in a little closer. Kuroo’s eye twitched.

“It’s not like they’re flirting,” Kuroo mumbled under his breath, though his voice lacked conviction.

“What was that?” Kenma asked, not bothering to look away from the ball on their side.

“Nothing!” Kuroo snapped, a little too loud, drawing some curious glances from nearby players.

You and Sugawara, still chatting, were blissfully unaware of Kuroo’s growing frustration. Every time Sugawara made you laugh, it felt like a small jab, not because he disliked Sugawara, but because… well, he wasn’t entirely sure why. Or at least, he wasn’t willing to admit it yet.

The match was in full swing, as Shimizu joined you and Sugawara at the side, observing as the teams went back and forth on the court. You’d fallen into an easy rhythm with Sugawara, catching up and making jokes, but now that Shimizu had joined you, the conversation was a bit more reserved.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Shimizu turned toward you. “You’re not their manager, yet you’re wearing their jersey,” she remarked softly, her eyes following the ball.

“Yeah, it actually belongs to Kenma, we're about the same size, thought it would boost the team spirit” you replied, smiling fondly.

Shimizu nodded thoughtfully, glancing between you and Kenma on the court. “He seems to enjoy your company.”

You blinked, catching the subtle implication in her tone. “Wait, do you mean…?” You hesitated, feeling a slight blush creep up your neck. “You think I like Kenma?”

Sugawara, who had been listening in with a bemused expression, chuckled under his breath. “Oh no, Shimizu,” he said, shaking his head, “you’re way off.”

Shimizu tilted her head slightly, giving Sugawara a questioning look. “Really? I thought—”

Sugawara waved her off with a smile, clearly amused. “Trust me, I’ve known Y/N for a long time. She doesn’t go for the quiet, brooding type.”

You narrowed your eyes at Sugawara, half-embarrassed. “Hey, I can like quiet guys,” you defended, though it came out more as a weak protest than anything else.

Sugawara gave you a teasing smirk. “Maybe, but not that quiet.” He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Kenma’s great and all, but your type’s always been more… I don’t know, bad boy. The kind of guy who’s a little rough around the edges, gets under your skin.”

Shimizu blinked, her curiosity piqued. “Bad boy…?” she repeated thoughtfully, then her gaze drifted toward the court where Coach Ukai stood, arms crossed, observing the match with his intense focus. She nodded in his direction. “Ah. You mean someone like Ukai?”

You nearly choked, waving your hands in protest. “What? No way! He’s… hot, sure, but he’s way too old!”

Sugawara burst out laughing, and even Shimizu’s usually calm expression cracked into a smile.

“Nah, I wasn’t talking about Ukai,” Sugawara chuckled, nudging you playfully. “I had someone more… age-appropriate in mind.” He pointed subtly across the court to where Kuroo was setting up for a block, his sharp gaze focused on the game, his usual smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was thinking more along the lines of that bad boy.”

You froze, suddenly feeling like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs. “Kuroo?” You hadn’t even realized it, but the moment Sugawara mentioned it, something clicked inside you—like a light had been switched on.

Sugawara’s grin widened as he saw the realization dawning on your face. “There it is,” he said, his voice smug but not unkind. “Ryouta told me you just can’t shut up about him.”

You could feel the blush deepening, the heat spreading up to your cheeks. “I… I don’t…” you stammered, not quite sure how to deny it now that it was out in the open.

Shimizu watched you carefully, her quiet gaze perceptive. “So, it is Kuroo?” she asked softly, her voice neutral as ever, though there was a trace of curiosity.

You glanced at her, feeling a little trapped but knowing you couldn’t lie, especially not with Sugawara there, reading you like an open book. You sighed, defeated, and ran a hand through your hair. “Okay, fine,” you muttered, embarrassed but kind of relieved to admit it. “Yeah… I think I like Kuroo.”

Sugawara looked like he’d just won a game. “I knew it,” he said triumphantly. “I could tell from the beginning.”

Shimizu gave a small nod, her expression thoughtful. “He does seem like someone you’d get along with,” she said quietly.

“Well…” you began slowly, a shy smile creeping onto your face, “he is pretty great. He’s been really nice to me, even when he’s annoying.”

Shimizu gave you a small, knowing smile.

Sugawara’s grin softened a bit, turning more genuine. “Sounds like you’re smitten.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Don’t make it sound so cheesy.”

He chuckled. “Hey, no judgment here. I’m just glad you finally realized it.”

You groaned, half embarrassed but secretly hopeful. “Great, now I’m going to be overanalyzing everything he says to me.”

Sugawara laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. “That’s part of the fun. Just keep me updated.”

Later that night, the team piled into the bus, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence as the Nekoma players settled into their seats. You slid into a spot next to Kenma, Kuroo sitting in the row just ahead, his head tilted back against the seat.

As the bus started to roll down the road, you pulled out some flyers Sugawara had given you earlier and turned to Kenma and Kuroo. "Hey, by the way, Sugawara invited me to a festival nearby. His and my brother’s band, Secondhand Youth, is opening." You held out the flyer so they could see. "You guys listen to pop-punk, right?"

Kenma glanced up from his DS, raising an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, Kuroo replied a little too quickly, "Sure!" His voice was overly enthusiastic, and his eyes darted to you for a reaction.

Kenma blinked, clearly unimpressed. He gave Kuroo a sideways look, stifling a smirk as he mimicked, "Sure." His tone was flat, dripping with sarcasm.

You snorted, trying to hide a laugh, but Kuroo shot Kenma a mock glare. “What? It’s not like I don’t listen to it.”

Kenma couldn’t resist. “Name one band.” He leaned his chin on his hand, watching Kuroo with a blank stare, knowing full well his friend didn’t have a clue.

Kuroo paused, clearly stumped, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for a band name. “Well, Secondhand Youth, obviously.” You couldn’t help but giggle, and Kuroo turned to you, his expression a mix of mild panic and frustration.

"Okay, fine, maybe I’m not a huge fan," Kuroo admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "but I’d still go. For the experience, you know?"

Kenma rolled his eyes but kept a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, the experience of pretending to like music you’ve never heard of.”

You nudged Kuroo’s seat playfully from behind, your smile softening. "You don’t have to, Kuroo. But… you’re welcome to come, if you want."

Kuroo’s eyes met yours, his expression softening as well. “Nah, I wanna go,” he said, his voice sincere this time. “Could be fun.”

Kenma returned to his game, though he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes as he watched you and Kuroo interact.

[night-market-if]

Hi, I finished book two, chapter six today and wanted to send some appreciation for what incredible storytelling you've accomplished with this project. I've sent a couple of anon compliments before after finishing book one I think, but I don't know how to express how much I adore this story so I hope you don't mind my gushing in your inbox again. You've managed to create a world that feels expansive and beautiful and often dark but also KIND. I feel a lot of hope when I read your writing, something I've been in desperate need of a couple of times over the past few years, and every time I restart the game I find delightful, messy, wonderful characters there to welcome me home for a little while. Gabriel and Hazel are my ROs of choice and absolute favourites, but I've found spending more time with Milo and Mal in this book great fun and I'm planning to go back to explore their poly route. Bella and my OCs haven't had much chemistry, but all of them desperately want to be friends with her and sit reading books round the same fireplace, pretending that they're not trying to guess each others secrets. The option to have her style the MC for the ball is one of my favourite moments of book one. I love exploring the night market and finding something new every time. I love the humanity of your dialogue and the chance to play someone who can be stubborn and stick up for myself while never being cruel. I look forward to exploring what comes next and send infinite gratitude for what you've given us so far. When I find a new job, being able to subscribe to your patreon is high on my list. Until then I will be enjoying the games every time I need a little more hope <3

Thank you!

You've hit the characterization of the MC on the nose. I want MC to be strong. I want them to get to this point through their journey where they are confident of their own actions and decisions. But that does not mean you have to be cruel to achieve such things. You can be strong and independent without stepping on others to get there. I'm also a big proponent of not letting your trauma control you so I try to put that into the MC as well.

And a Hazelmancer!!! She is such an undervalued RO and I just love her storyline to pieces. It is such a relatable journey (minus the dark magic) and her story unfolding this book as been one of my favorites to discover.

Thank you so much for your words. I am excited to start crafting this story again. I hope you enjoy what is to come.

[elysianfieldsarchive]

Elysian Fields Anniversary Event Details!!!

It's our birthday!

Elysian Fields Spuffy Fanwork Archive is turning eighteen, and so, the inspiration for the theme comes from Buffy’s own harrowing eighteenth birthday, when she is betrayed by Giles and the Council alike. 

That said, your fic/art DOES NOT have to be based around that same episode. So long as it’s a Spuffy work with betrayal as a theme, you’re good. This does not mean it specifically has to be Buffy or Spike who is the subject or perpetrator of the betrayal! You could go for a spin on canon with Amy betraying Willow, Willow betraying Tara, or something completely AU like Xander being betrayed by the cheese guy from Restless. Your use of the theme can be as small or as large as you want. So long as it's obvious enough for the readers to go "Oh, I see what you did there!" then your fic qualifies for this challenge. Whichever path you choose to take, we'd love to see what you come up with.

How and when do I post my story?

Starting as soon as the clock ticks over into October 1st (site time, which is Eastern US time—it's listed under the ShoutBox), you'll see a checkbox on the page where you add a new story. It’ll look like so:

Reminder: Your work DOES NOT need to be complete prior to posting. In fact, it doesn't even need to be completed during the event month. So, any creators stressing about the timeline, you can relax because you have the whole month to BEGIN posting your work.

Also: the betrayal does not have to happen in the first chapter, or any chapters that are posted during October. The only requirement is that betrayal is featured in your work at some point.

How do I find Challenge Stories?

Want to keep up with the fun? All betrayal works will have a little knife icon in the byline, as seen in the example below:

And you can find all of the betrayal works as they are added by visiting the Event Page.

What should my work include?

So long as your work features Spuffy, a betrayal, and doesn’t break any of EF’s rules or Terms of Service, you’re golden. You could make art, write a comic, edit a fan-vid, or write an epic novel. The world is your oyster poodle! 

Written works must be at least 100 words long, but there is no word count limit for artwork-only pieces or narrative artwork (i.e. works that consist of both words and pictures, such as a comic).

Please remember that EF has a strict no-AI policy.

What happens if I don’t post my work within the time window?

If you don’t post the first installment of your work during October (per site time), it can’t and won’t be considered part of the October event, sorry.

Do I need to post the entire work before the end of October?

Again, no. You just need to have posted at least one chapter before site time ticks over to November (per site time).

What about beta readers and sensitivity readers?

We love beta and sensitivity readers and have a shiny Beta award they can win! Use EF’s credit system to mark their contribution or else they won’t get the award—and they deserve all the accolades for their hard work!

Can I work with someone else on my event response?

Sure! The more the merrier! Whether it’s writers working as coauthors, artists creating a collaborative work together, or an artist and a writer teaming up as a duo (or a moresome!) as deadly as Spuffy, we welcome collaborations for this event.

How do I get the art award?

You can get the art award by creating a banner (for yourself or someone else) or by posting a work that fits within our Artwork or Narrative Artwork categories. We’ve seen images, manips, gifs, videos, fan vids, comics, playlists, and more get posted, and can’t wait to see what y’all will come up with next!

If someone has created art for your work, make sure you credit them using EF’s credit system—otherwise we won’t know to give them an award! And DON’T FORGET to credit yourself as artist if you created your own banner or other artwork.

Are there rules for banner creation?

Banners should be no more than 920x300 pixels and include a variation of the text ‘Designed/Created/Written for the Elysian Fields Betrayal Event’ somewhere on them. Example:

Now that I have a gorgeous banner/other artwork, how do I add it to my work?

To add the banner to your story, you can upload the banner to your account in “Your Images” under “Account Info.” Banner images must be a gif, jpg, jpeg, or png file type, and under 1 MB in file size. Banners should be no more than 920x300 pixels. Images posted within chapters can be up to 1500x1500 px. (Note: make sure you add images to the chapter itself; any images in the Chapter Notes or End Notes won’t be added to ePubs when people download them!) You can also host your banner on an image-sharing site or your own site, especially if the file size is too big for us to host on our site.

You then enter the URL from Elysian Fields or the image sharing site in the Banner URL field on the Add Story page, or click the Insert/Edit Image icon in the toolbar for the Story Text box.

NOTE: The URL you add MUST be end in the image file extension (.gif, .jpg, .jpeg, or .png) or else the URL will not be saved. Make sure there are no spaces after the final character in the file extension. If you are having issues with a specific image sharing site, please reach out to us via email or try asking for help in our Discord server.

You said we could add videos? How do I do that?

You will need to get the embed link from YouTube, Vimeo, or another site (which can be a little tricky on mobile, but not impossible—google for directions if you can’t do this on desktop) and insert the html into the Source Code. You can access this by clicking the Source Code button in the toolbar. Reach out via email or Discord if you’re having any issues with embedding videos.

Is there an event skin?

Yes. The October event skin is now live if you want to make it your default. Scroll down to the skins on the main page or in the footer and select the one labeled “betrayal” to switch. If you want to keep it, make sure you change the selection on your preferences page. (Otherwise it will change back to your saved skin the next time you access the site.)

And if you haven't seen it yet, the skin looks like this:

The banner was made by our very own @isevery0nehereverystoned.

Will you be featuring regular works while the event is going on?

Instead of our normal mod-selected featured works, we will be highlighting fanworks posted in past years in honor of our October anniversary. Starting on the first of the month, each day will highlight a random assortment of works posted during the matching year of the archive (for example, on October 1st, we will feature works from 2006, our first year; on October 2nd, we will feature works from 2007, our second year; and so on). On day eighteen, we will change to feature fics that are part of this event.

The October Event challenges authors and artists. What about the readers? Won’t you think of the readers?

Obviously, readers deserve all the love. If you write at least 18 comments in October that contain at least 18 words (for any works here on EF, not just the challenge ones), you'll meet the requirements of the commenter challenge and earn a Commenter award! There will be a link to the comment challenge leaderboard on the homepage under the Members of the Month along with the All Star Commenter list.

Show me the awards!

This event’s shinies have also been lovingly made by HappyWhenItRains. Lookit!

I’m So Excited!

We are too!

Do we really have to include poodles in our works?

No. Probably.

Anything else?

If there are any additional questions, please comment on this post or email us at elysianfieldsarchive@gmail.com. And get ready for some amazing new stories!

[ohtobemare]

UNTIL WE FALL

summary: DP&W AU. It's been God knows how many years after Logan's death in North Dakota—or maybe not? And really, this wouldn't be much of a story without a shiny new villain with a hot new plan, or someone to save the world. Well, maybe two someones. Ok, you win, three. But first, you have track down that said someone—the Wolverine. And who better to do that than the girl who found him the first time? Logan/OC.

pairings: Logan/worst!Wolverine x fem!OC

warnings: age gap, very, very alternative universe; pre-existing relationship that hasn't been written yet (based on the upcoming series, Mare & the Wolverine), fluff and angst, language, PG-13 spicy stuff, religion, violence (lots and lots of violence, this is Deadpool we're talking about), no experience writing DP or Wolvie but oh well, a bunch of other stuff we won't get into, plus size OC, a different way of approaching mutants, yes this is a self-insert leave me ALONE.

next |

It's Called an Intro, Mothereffers

Hi, welcome to the fuc–I mean freak, show. Don't want to blow the whole damn budget on the first 2.5 seconds of page time, right? Critics, good God–they're the worst. One sentence in and they'll judge the whole effin' book, hook line and sinker without even getting to the plot. Frickin' internet has made everyone a literary genius. Not.

ANYWAY—you're probably wondering what the eff I'm doing in the middle of this shitshow, huh? A story that isn't mine, hell—a story that isn't even technically written yet. That's a Fox thing. Or an MCU thing. Or a….thing, I guess? Dunno, this habit of timelines and then redoing and undoing them like a nun unbuckling a priests robes in a spittin' hurry after church is getting old—nobody really knows what the heck is going on. But, that's showbiz, right?

Rabbit trail, sorry. Frickin' brain. Anyway, yes–here. Ahem.

Well, really, we've got ourselves a Code Redpool (see what I did there?) with this one—someone trying to take over the world, rattle some cages, all that jazz. And if you didn't already know, such sticky little cumsucking messes requires a little bit more than a mercenary with a mouth. We already know I can't—don't—save the world. Despite what the box office may lend. It's above my paygrade, my hero tier. This rated R mothereffer hasn't gotten there yet, not on his own. Maybe another million or fifty.

Could be different this go around, though. Who effin' knows. All I know is that to save a world, to make a story, you need a couple of things—a smashin' budget, a whole helluva lot of copyright law, and a hero. An "anchor being," because Marvel has to be frickin' special. Sometimes two when the situation is Redpool, like it is. Maybe three, because I'll be EFFED if I'm not part of this one. Earnin' my stripes, going all Tony the Tiger and shit. You know the drill.

To help me out, I need the big guy. Yeah. Not talking about Jesus, though it could be argued He's a factor, here. Very non denominational, very off script, very demure. Think more…yellow. Feral, as it were. Canadian. Yeah, dumbass—we need the Wolverine. The guy with the forks, the mutton chops from the 70s that were definitely a…choice. Logan. Yeah, him. Mr. Feral Forest Weasel himself.

And we'll probably need someone who can help us get to Logan, since he wouldn't know me from fresh effin' ADAM. If you saw Logan, you'll understand. Though it didn't happen exactly that way, because this is an AU—that fanfiction shit, you know. Sigh. We need someone who's tamed the beast, has clawed under all that adamantium and seen the hero where a trainwreck of a multiple-movies-gone-bad guy has stood.

A girl, genius. We need a girl. And lucky for you, delightful little fourth-wallians, I've got just the one.

Buckle up, mothereffer's—shit's about to get Wolverine-d.

▹ Somewhere in the Past, North Dakota (in other words the prologue)

tags: @just-a-silly-howlett-lover

[lord-squiggletits]

One of my favorite parts of phase 2 (and indeed one of the few moments I resonated with IDW Prowl) was when the neutrals were coming back to Cybertron and Prowl said that he refused to let Autobots be pushed aside and overruled after they were the ones who fought for freedom for 4 million years (the exact wording escapes me atm).

And I mean, that resentment still holds true even once the colonists come on bc like. As much as it's true that Cybertron's culture is fucked up, and as funny as it can be to paint Cybertronians as a bunch of weirdos who consider trying to kill someone as a common greeting not important enough to hold a grudge over.... The colonists POV kind of pissed me off a lot of times, as did the narrative tone/implications that Cybertronians are forever warlike and doomed to die by their own hands bc it just strikes me as an extremely judgemental and unsympathetic way to deal with a huge group of people with massive war PTSD and political/social tensions that were rampant even before the war?

Like, imagine living in a society rife with bigotry and discrimination where you get locked into certain occupations and social strata based on how you were born. The political tension is so bad there's a string of assassinations of politicians and leaders. The whole planet erupts into an outright war that leads (even unintentionally) to famine and chemical/biological warfare that destroys your planet. Both sides of the war are so entrenched in their pre-war sides and resentment for each other that this war lasts 4 million years and you don't even have a home planet any more. Then your home planet gets restored and a bunch of sheltered fucks come home and go "ewww why are you so violent?? You're a bunch of freaks just go live in the wilderness so that our home can belong to The Pure People Who Weren't Stupid And Evil Enough To Be Trapped In War" and then a bunch of colonists from places that know nothing about your history go "lol you people are so weird?? 🤣🤣 I don't get why y'all are fighting can't you just like, stop??? Oh okay you people are just fucked up and evil and stupid then" ((their planets are based on colonialism where their Primes wiped out the native populations btw whereas the Autobots and OP in particular fought to save organics. But that never gets brought up as a point in their favor)) as if the damage of a lifetime of war and a society that was broken even before the war can just magically go away now that the war is over.

Prowl fucking sucks but he was basically the only person that pointed out the injustice of that.

And then from then on out most of the characters from other colonies like Caminus and wherever else are going "i fucking hate you and your conflicts" w/ people like literal-nobody Slide and various Camiens getting to just sit there lecturing Optimus about how Cybertronians are too violent for their own good and how their conflicts are stupid, with only brief sympathetic moments where the Cybertronians get to be recognized as their own ppl who deserve sympathy before going right back to being lambasted.

Like I literally struggled to enjoy the story at multiple points because there was only so much I could take of the characters I knew and loved being raked over coals constantly while barely getting to defend themselves or be defended by the narrative so like. It was just fucking depressing and a little infuriating to read exRID/OP

[topaziraphale]

"Stop saying Crowley won't help Aziraphale in S3 he'd go back to him in a HEARTBEAT and nothing would stop him" I get it no one likes the idea of Crowley being bitter after what happened for a long period of time but like can we at least acknowledge that he's currently going through probably the most emotional pain in his life since falling? Can we agree that he's opened his heart entirely - something you couldn't pay him to do unless the world is literally ending and he's desperate - to Aziraphale, and got shot down? Can we understand that he did it AGAIN only to lose Aziraphale again? Not that what Aziraphale did isn't without Crowley's own shortcomings (hiding the truth of Heaven's cruelty from him) but like,,,,

The appeal here isn't Scorned Crowley Doesn't Love Aziraphale Anymore, or Never Wants To Help Him Again, the appeal here is Crowley learning enough self respect to not just walk back right to Aziraphale like nothing happened after Aziraphale has had a pattern of consistently refusing him. Going years ping-ponging between "We're not friends I don't even know him" to "That's what friends are for right?" and "We're friends, why would you even say anything?" and "Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon!"

Like I get it, Crowley is a heartbreakingly forgiving person. Of course he's gonna forgive Aziraphale, I'll be surprised if he didn't forgive him by the time he walked out the bookshop door, but gdi he could at least grant himself the luxury of being at least a little irritated for longer than however long it takes to make a globe and some books float and angrily cry out to God in his flat. But due to the change of pace and dynamic that is establishing part of the conflict for Season 3, I just really like the idea of him for ONCE prioritizing himself and being like "Okay, fine. We'll get back at it when you're ready, then," instead of just taking Aziraphale back like his words and actions meant nothing to him, when clearly they have an effect on him.

What is Aziraphale going to learn if Crowley just accepts what he did so quickly, like he always has the entire time they've been friends? Idk maybe I'm just projecting too much darkness on their dynamic but I mean, if the pattern of Aziraphale pushing Crowley away/disrespecting him one day and then being fine with his friendship the next + Crowley never stopping to be like "Hey, that's not cool, at least give me a little credit" or smth was fine all along and will continue to be fine in the future, then why, after 6,000 years of being friends and loving this demon, can Aziraphale still not accept that Crowley is just fine the way he is, and instead got excited to promote him to an angel in a heartbeat once the opportunity presented itself? You can't blame all of it on Heaven when Aziraphale has demonstrated his free will/defiance to Heaven so many times. Or, I don't know, I guess maybe we can? Maybe I'm just craving too much angst to the point where I'm letting it cloud my analysis of canon. Idk.

[hurricanek8art]

Okay SO I've never Bad Batch posted beyond reblogs but there's two episodes left and I'm going insane so my big giant theory for why the finale is titled The Cavalry Has Arrived with a sprinkle of Tech is Alive Yes I Am Delusional:

Tonight's episode is going to end with the Batch, Omega's gang, and CX-2 all colliding in one of the hallways.

Big Western faceoff, tumbleweed, yadda yadda y'know.

Right before the shooting starts, CX-2 tells them their escape plan through whatever hallway they're planning is strategically ill-advised, because *insert tactical explanation here*

Hunter: "Oh yeah? What, you trying to help us or something? No thanks."

CX-2: "It was worth the attempt. It's not as if we've ever followed orders anyway."

BIG PAUSE, CLOSE UP MONTAGE OF EVERYONE AS THE WORDS SINK IN

Omega: "...Tech?!"

Tech: *removes helmet to reveal it's him* "Well, I thought it was obvious. Shall we liberate some clones together, then?"

SMASH CUT, ROLL CREDITS, THE CALVARY HAS ARRIVED BECAUSE THE *ENTIRE* BATCH IS TOGETHER AGAIN AND THEY'RE GONNA SAVE THE CLONES.

end conspiracy theory rant. 🥴

[rat-rosemary]

I want to write a fic about Dream moving into a frat mid college for some reason and he has the surgery scars he has and every single time a frat bro sees him without a shirt on their reaction is "Dude, cool scars!! ... is it a trans thing?" "Uh... no, they're like, surgery scars" "Cool cool... you're still going with he/him right? Just to check" "yeah"