#would love people to actually reblog and leave comments and stuff on my fics instead of just

[himbos-hotline]

*watches all my fics get ignored* i love writing so much

[olderthannetfic]

Genuine question: what's the point of writing fanfic? As in, what's the purpose? No one in the fandom I'm in comments on fics and I even got told off by one person for doing so, as it "encourages bad writers and makes them think they're good". So it seems that it's a lot like book writing, where people work hard and are creative, but instead of getting paid and getting comments on the work, you just sit there silently hoping someone will press the kudos button and make a number go up. I feel like that time and work could be better spent on making something you might get some kind of profit off of. Don't get me wrong, I love doodling fanart, but I don't post it, as I'm aware that there's no point to doing so, and while it's a nice way to fill the time on a commute, it's not something that takes me as much time and effort as fanfic does. So... why do people bother? Sometimes I describe ideas I have and people I know in my fandom will tell me I should write it, but I don't see why. I get more interaction from just saying "imagine if [thing here]" than I would by sitting down, writing for hours, editing and posting [thing here], so what would the point be? I'm not punching down or going "haha women and their fanfic lol!", I genuinely do not get what the point is and this blog feels like it might have someone reading who knows the answer.

--

Do you make art for profit? Genuine question.

There's nothing inherently wrong with being motivated primarily by external factors, but it's not actually why a lot of people create things, whether it's books or recipes or doodles in a notepad.

I enjoy the actual process of writing.

I think many people lose sight of that aspect in an era where tons of <500-word fics that are mostly outlines and "Imagine if..." posts get disproportionate attention for being easy to consume. But the satisfaction of doing a bigger art piece and doing it right is real and motivates a hell of a lot of creation.

I suppose you might be thinking "Okay, but why not just write it alone and never post?", but I like sharing. Showing off my finished creation is part of the joy, and sharing with other people like me is too. But those aren't quite the same thing as worrying about kudos. It's like dressing nicely when you leave the house because you feel great when you know you look good vs. needing another person to tell you you look good.

To be honest, though, this type of feeling has grown in me the better I've gotten at a craft. The closer my finished projects get to the vision in my head, the easier it is to find them fulfilling and to be excited to share them. When I fall short of my own ambitions, it's discouraging no matter how much attention I might get from others.

I feel like it's time for my regular reblog of Adam Westbrook's video essay series The Long Game.

The third and least known in the series is all about this idea of who you're making art for if you're not getting material rewards in the short term. It talks a lot about autotelicity—being internally driven instead of externally.

--

But if you really just want clicks, anon, start a blog that accepts anon asks and posts about wanky stuff. Actually tag things, unlike me, so people can find you.

No, writing for attention isn't worth it.

The time investment is too great and your brain will always fixate on the times people didn't respond instead of the times they did.

But that's not actually why most people write.

[ohmeadows]

[20 Question Fic Writer Tag]

i wasn't tagged, i just wanted to do it 😌

How many works do you have on AO3? 10 currently. if we’re counting all past accounts and orphaned works… easily 50-60.

What is your AO3 word count? currently 149,834. if we account for the grand total, well. more. ha.

What fandoms do you write for? i’ve been in quite a few, mostly video game ones, but right now it’s mostly only honkai star rail on my mind though i have the odd rhaenicent idea rattling around.

What are your top five fics by kudos? you and me are a twisted fantasy (kafhime enemies to milkies), i’m on a leash called you (kafhime with dom himeko), da capo al fine (kafhime time loops), the dew of dying stars (ruanliu mara body horrors and cannibalism), and spark (kafxuan horny).

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? yes, i try to most of the time! i had a lapse this fall where i just didn’t have enough energy to do it for months on end, but i cleared my inbox of that backlog on january 1st. i’m trying to be more consistent going forward.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? none i can link bc orphaned or on old accounts, but i do love a good angsty ending if it makes sense for the way the story has been going. kinda aching to write one again i won’t lie.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? most of them are quite happy in terms of endings! i know people doomed so hard about da capo was going to have a sad tragic ending but that was… never in the cards for me. i already have it written and i’m very excited about getting there.

Do you get hate on fics? sort of. i wish people would offer up critiques instead of just leaving comments like “ew this is unhygienic”, “disgusting”, “can’t believe i read 8 chapters just for BOTTOM KAFKA” or whatever else pointless stuff i’ve deleted.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? mostly, yes. i think 99% of my writing stems from a very clear and vivid image of a sex scene, and then me building backwards to root that sex in a way that feels natural and consistent to both characters. and i'm always looking for some new angle in smut, or else it'll bore me, so that means exploring new kinks or dynamics each time.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? no, i frankly hate crossovers and it’s one of my blocked tags on ao3.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? oh yeah lol. sucks! what can you do! it always amuses me because if these people just bothered to talk to me in the way of “hey, i love x idea, i want to do my own take of it, can i discuss some ideas with you?” i’d be 100% down to help nurture that. i reblogged a post about it the other day but i definitely feel that fandom community has turned into a fandom clout competition which feeds into this, too many of us looking for a quick boost in some imaginary clout chasing.

Have you ever had a fic translated? several, yes. for a while i had a bunch of old fics translated into russian. it always flatters me that people would go through that effort with my works.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? yes, i’ve written a ton of unpublished wips with others and enjoyed the process, and then one i co-wrote with junie and published in an old fandom. i’d love to do it again, tbh, it’s incredibly energizing and fun, but wrangling two people’s creativity together over an extended period of time is always a lot of work and agreements, as well as being able to actually produce. you both need to trust each other and deliver.

What's your all-time favourite ship? uhm. i don’t know. i really don’t. ships by themselves don’t make me feel that excited, weirdly enough, but rather what people make exist in them. i have absolutely lost interest in compelling ships because the fandom de-fanged them, pulled their punches or morphed every single aspect about them into “uwu soft healing together”. (i could go into a long rant about how healing tends to be kinda… ugly…. in interpersonal dynamics. but that’s for another time.)

What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will? most of my unfinished wips i’m completely at ease with leaving behind in the dust. most. i do spend a lot of time thinking about a dorothea/rhea court drama au.

What are your writing strengths? visuals, i think. i have a very vivid inner eye when writing and the scenes play out like a movie for me, so i pay a lot of attention to the choreography and details of the scenes, where everyone’s hands are, and so on, to try and translate my inner vision to text. i can be a very harsh editor which means i’m always looking at what effect each scene is striving for — does it make sense for it to meander, or does it need to be snappier, sharper?

What are your writing weaknesses? i feel like my vocabulary could do with enrichment. i spend a lot of time looking up synonyms because they never stick in my head, and most of my reading books is spent noting down words in a notepad i’d like to use. sometimes i leave too much to be fixed in editing instead of putting it all down in the first draft. i don’t like involving too many characters so sometimes i think fics can get a bit too narrow — and sometimes i can play that for good effect, i guess.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? if you know it, sure, if you want; or at the very least use a beta who knows the language. i tried reading some fics that made use of my mother tongue and my god was it jarringly obvious google translate as well as irrelevant. i think it is worth asking twice what effect it will have for the reader and if it will come off as jarring.

First fandom you wrote for? lord of the rings! man i loved my mary sue silly era.

Favourite fic you've ever written? completed: spark. the amount of research i poured into it, as well as dedicating myself to convoluting fu xuan’s internal voice and outlook on things was some real hard work, but satisfying in the end. incomplete: the dew of dying stars. this one pushed me to research more, think harder about what i wanted to convey, and make them be worse. it’s been a very fun shift in how much i allow myself to dig deep, and relaxing and trusting the audience more. truly a new level of sicko weirdo fic for me.

[blooming-violets]

Ok, I hope you don't block me because I'm new to Tumblr and have zero clues. I have a request if possible from your bingo? It's the 'need any help with that' prompt. Confession: I have a soft spot for a man who helps fasten a necklace. You know when you hold up your hair and his knuckles graze the back of your neck? Just picturing Peter and those wonderful hands. Sigh. Well. Anyway, I enjoy your work and also read the author Liz(?) I think that wrote Sugar and Vice. You two are so gifted.

Thank you, my dear! I will put it on my list of things to write. I love the necklace idea, I think that's so sweet.

Can I give you some new to tumblr advice though? First things first, change your profile picture asap to something other than the default pic. I know when I go through my follow list to block people I single out the profiles that have the default icon and blank blogs.

Secondly, write your age in your bio so it's easy to find as most writers here will block people who are under 18 or don't have an age listed. It can be an age range basically so we know we aren't speaking to a minor. And then write a little tiny thing about yourself to help people realize that you are an actual human and not a bot. For example:

You could say something like "just here to read and enjoy fics" or whatever but it's enough that we know this is actually someone who's reading our stuff and not a bot. Change the header, icon, and bio to make it obvious. It doesn't have to be beautiful just something other than the default.

Finally...Go reblog some of your favorite fics! Seeing actual reblogs on a page instead of a blank blog is always a good sign.

Just some advice because, right now, you're blog looks like one who would be targeted for a people to block. Personally, I scroll through my follower list every so often, single out the obvious "porn" bots and then single out blank blogs with no reblogs or no profile pics or no age listed in their bio. It's a simple and quick fix to not get insta blocked by people! The sooner you get it done, and the more you reblog work that you enjoyed (especially if you leave a comment hehe), the more welcomed into the community you'll be. And feel free to ask people for help if you ever need it :)

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Assumptions

10/01/2021

Pairing: Manuel Neuer x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 6,018

Warnings: rpf, mentions of age gap (not between reader and Manu and nothing illegal) and strong opinions on that, banter, jealousy, infuriation, fluff and cuteness

Summary: The reader finally catches her long time crush Manuel Neuer alone on her uncle's birthday. Things are quickly starting to get heated—sadly it's not the kind of heated she would have liked it to be.

A/N: Most of you probably don't know Manuel Neuer. He is the goalkeeper and captain of Bayern Munich as well as the German National Football Team and every once in a while I find my thoughts drifting towards that adorable and amazingly talented manchild. This story has been sitting in my drafts for far too long and I wasn't sure whether I felt comfortable with publishing it in case it ever got finished. But I found that there is an intolerable lack of Manuel Neuer x reader fics on here, so here it is. I tagged everyone from my general tag list, but I understand if this is not what you signed up for. So sorry in advance and please feel free to ignore this story at your leisure.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

It was only a few minutes to midnight and still the dance floor was as filled as ever, an enchanting mixture of young and old people alike. The bass rolled deep in his stomach, making him even queasier than he already was, and the lights, flickering across the mass of moving bodies in sync to the rhythm of the music, didn’t help either.

Suddenly a figure broke through the outer wall of bodies and made her way over to his table. A small smile crawled over her lips, a little shy but genuine, yet he didn’t feel like returning it. He had hoped that she would change her mind upon the disgruntled look on his face, but much to his dismay, she did nothing of the sort and sat down right next to him, just as a waitress passed the table with a tray of colourful shots. The woman next to him stopped her, before she turned to him.

“Care for a drink?”

Did he care for a drink? He yearned for one.

“No, thanks. I’m not really fond of drinking.”

“Shame,” she shrugged, her smile growing a bit wider when she took two shots from the tray anyway. For a second he thought she might actually force him to drink with her, but then she placed down the two glasses in front of herself. Raising her first glass to him, she gulped it down in one swig, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand afterwards.

“Do you care for a dance then?” She nodded over to the dance floor, her eyes and body inviting him to take the offer.

He found that he somehow couldn’t hold her gaze when he answered, “I’m afraid I’m also not very fond of dancing.”

Her forearms resting on the table, she leaned closer, obviously not taking the hint that he just wanted to be left in peace and quiet.

“Then what are you fond of?”

“I think you know pretty well what I’m fond of.” To his own surprise he sounded even harsher than he had attempted to, but the last thing he needed right now was an eager fan trying to engage him in a conversation.

“I do,” she retorted undeterred, “but that’s not what I wanted to know. See, you might not have noticed through all your sulking, but I was actually interested in you as a person, not as a footballer.”

He huffed, although he wasn’t sure she had heard him above the music.

“And you might have noticed that I am not interested in talking about private stuff to complete strangers.”

Sure, he was being massively impolite, but at least he hoped that this would do the trick now. But instead of finally leaving him alone, she shot him an amused look.

“Ooooh, grumpy, aren’t we?”

Now it was him who leaned in closer, making sure she could hear him properly. “Look, it’s nothing personal, okay? I just...it wasn’t such a great evening for me.”

Unintentionally his eyes wandered over to the dance floor for a split second, where a very young, very blonde girl was dancing happily among his teammates and their wives and girlfriends. Cursing himself, he looked over to the woman by his side carefully, hoping she hadn’t noticed. But of course she had, her eyes still fixed on the girl.

“Ah, I see.” She turned to him and the glint in her eyes made his stomach turn. “Puberty is a bitch, eh?”

“Excuse me?” he spat, equal parts bewildered and stunned.

“You heard me alright.”

Who did she think she was? Impertinent woman.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” The volume of his voice must have slipped his control a little, as he noticed a group of elderly men standing nearby turn into his direction. Still the woman’s smile never left her face, appeasing the men who turned away again.

“Really? After all I have to sit here with a pissed thirty something man who refuses to acknowledge he let his hormones get the best of him.”

“Whoa! Okay, first of all, it was you who decided to come and sit at this table and second, again, none of your goddamn business.”

Her answer was a simple grin, still not fazed by his anger in the slightest. It almost felt as if she was enjoying to get him riled up.

“You’re right.”

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?”

He rolled his eyes heavily. Why couldn’t she just leave?

“You know, that phrase usually goes with an apology. Like ‘You’re right. Sorry I assumed you’re having a mid-life crisis and bang a chick that is 15 years your junior to boost your fragile ego.’”

“Do you?”

Inhaling deeply, he tried to calm himself a little. After all, he couldn’t afford to yell at her again, not that he didn’t want to, but causing even more unwanted attention was not in his plans for tonight.

“I didn't say that.”

“Well actually,” she looked at him triumphantly, “you kind of did. I never said you were having a midlife crisis or that you need her to boost your ego. Those were your words. And seeing that my assumptions caused a reaction like that, I’m afraid I can’t really say I’m sorry either.”

All right, that was it. Enough was enough.

“Look, I think I have an assumption for you too, lady. I’m starting to assume that you only came over here to rile me up further. And guess what, mission completed. So why don’t you do us both a favour and head off to pester someone else now?”

She was quiet for a moment and for the first time, the cheeky smile left her beautiful, burgundy lips. He had expected her to be a bit shaken at least, maybe even as pissed as himself, and yet the next words were spoken with such dignity that he couldn’t help but admire her a little for it.

“Oh, I would love to say you’re right again, but I’m afraid I can’t this time. And since we seem to have warmed up to each other quite a bit by now, I feel it’s okay to be completely honest with you.” She paused a second, simply for the effect, he guessed and her warm eyes never left his. “I came to sit with you because you looked miserable. Still do, by the way. And I thought you might need an actual grown up to talk to. But it seems I was wrong. You’re just a pouty manchild, like the rest of them.”

She waved her arm, pointing over at the dancing crowd of his friends and their spouses. His eyes followed her gesture and when he laid eyes on the heart of the matter, a hot flush of rage began to swirl through his veins, making his hands clench into fists. Fully set on giving her a piece of his mind, not caring who might hear him at this point, he turned to her again. But the familiar figure that had somehow entered the picture without his notice made him stop in his tracks.

“Here you are, sweetie.” The man cooed, laying his large hand on her shoulder in a protective gesture. “I almost got the feeling you were hiding from me since I made you promise to dance with me tonight.”

She twisted her slender neck to look up at his gentle face, her attention making him smile sweetly at her.

“You know I’d never do that to you, Uncle Hans, especially not on your birthday. I just thought your no. 1 goalkeeper here was in need of some mature company, but clearly he is perfectly happy with the way things are.”

Bewilderment flickered behind the coach’s gaze as he looked between his niece and one of his best players and Manuel was sure that this might not be the last time they would speak about this matter.

“So then, may I have that dance now, sweetheart?”

“With pleasure.” Manuel watched almost transfixed as she gracefully took her uncle’s hand and stood up. It was only now that he noticed how perfectly her dress showed off her voluptuous curves. He was almost certain that she would leave without another word when once again she proved him wrong. Turning on her heels, she grabbed the remaining shot and gulped it down in one large swig before she looked down at him, almost as regal as a queen.

“Have a pleasant evening, Mister Neuer. I’m sorry I can’t say I enjoyed our conversation more. Oh, and just in case you should ever feel in need to talk to a grown up, don’t call.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

She could still feel his piercing look on her back as Hansi led her through the crowd and away from him. They had just begun to dance when the song changed and a much slower tune echoed through the large room. With a smug grin, her uncle pulled her closer, bringing his hand to the small of her back. Cheek to cheek he swayed her to the beat and she could feel that her mind was almost beginning to slow down, when he decided to pick up a conversation.

“Will you tell me what that was all about?”

She bit her lip like a little girl that was about to be scolded. “Do I have to?”

He chuckled deeply, the vibration rumbling against her chest and she could easily imagine the self-satisfied grin on his face.

“I’m certainly not going to force you. It’s just, you know, I always thought you kind of liked him.”

Instantly, she could feel her face heat up. How could he possibly know that?

“True. Liked, as in past tense. And besides, it’s not that I actually know him, personally, I mean. You could perhaps say I admire his talent, at most. And he also may be kind of easy on the eyes.”

She had become more and more quiet while she spoke, merely mumbling the last sentence. But he had heard her nonetheless, her silliness making his lips twitch in amusement.

“Hm. I clearly remember your aunt begging me to invite him over for a barbecue party last summer, telling me that you wouldn’t shut up about his quiet reserve, his amazing performance on the field and his stunning smile. Sadly he didn’t have time.”

She gulped audibly, tensing up a little in his arms, which made him enjoy their little talk even more. “So, what changed your mind?”

“He did,” she said a little too quickly, before she sighed so heavily that her uncle almost regretted bringing this topic up after all. “It’s just, I don’t understand his choice in women. I mean, he could choose literally anyone, so why her? I mean, she clearly doesn’t make him happy.”

“And how do you know that? You have spoken to him for what? Like five minutes?” He turned them around, making her face the gloomy goalie once more, before he went on. “I might be wrong, sweetheart, but I think you’re just jealous.”

Over his shoulder her gaze met Manuel’s for a split second before his eyes shot to his right, where the blonde teenager stepped into the picture, blocking him from view. She sat down on his lap, her arms dragging around his neck possessively, as her lips met his in a feverish kiss. Averting her gaze immediately, her eyes darkened and her heart clenched heavily in her chest.

“If by jealous you mean disenchanted, you’re right.”

Her bitter words made him loosen his grip on her so that he could see her face, and the hurt in her eyes pained him more than he cared for.

“I know you probably won’t believe me, but he really is a good person.”

She scoffed while her incredulous eyes landed on her uncle’s soft, blue orbs. “Well, he certainly hid that pretty well.”

He gave her a tight lipped smile. “I think he’s just lost his way a little at the moment.”

“So you think I’m right then?”

The excited sparkle in her eyes made him regret his honest words a little.

“I didn’t say that.” He protested strongly. In the end it was not for him to judge his players’ private lives. “After all he is a grown man and he can decide for himself.” He could see her face fall again and so he was quick to add, “Nevertheless, I don’t think you’re completely wrong either.”

He was very pleased to see that his words had caused a small smile to crawl back to her pretty lips. He almost felt like a proud father and when she finally leaned back in a bit closer, her forgiving gesture almost made him a bit bold.

“So, uhm, one more question, sweetheart. In the unlikely event that he should after all need a grown woman to talk to, can I give him your number?”

“Certainly not,” she insisted with a steady voice, but when she looked at him, the adorable grin on her face left no doubt that this was the biggest lie she had ever told.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Manuel was furious as he watched her leave towards the dance floor with the coach. How could she dare call him out like that and then leave without giving him the chance to set her straight? His eyes fixed on her, he watched as Flick pulled her closer, his eyes following her uncle’s hand to the small of her back. Being the gentleman he was, his hand had found the only spot on her back that was actually covered by the dark red fabric of her dress. And for a second he imagined what it might actually feel like to let his hand wander upwards until it covered her bare skin. Or maybe he could let it slip down a few inches, until his fingers would grasp the soft flesh of her behind. He had just been able to fully picture the exact feeling of her body pressed up to his when he could feel the man who actually held her in his arms catch his indecent look on his niece’s back. Immediately he sat up straight, averting his gaze, completely missing the amused smile on the other man’s face, and when he turned back to face him, he almost lost it when he found her sparkling eyes instead.

He was still trying to figure out what had happened, when he heard a familiar voice calling him.

“Hey, babe.” The high pitched noise made him flinch and instinctively his eyes shot to his right, just in time to pull his arms away before she slumped down onto his lap clumsily. She laid it on thickly as her arms wrapped around his neck.

“I missed you on the dance floor, honey bun. Why don’t you come dance with me?”

And before he even had the chance to answer, her lips crashed down on his mouth almost painfully, her tongue forcing his lips to open. The stench of alcohol filled his mouth and he pushed her drunken form off of him determinedly. Before she even had the chance to protest, he lifted her up and placed her in his chair.

“I don’t think dancing is a good idea in your condition.” She glared at him, but then she seemed to have forgotten what for and her lips turned up into a sheepish smile.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

“Look, why don’t you just stay here and I get you a nice, big glass of water to sober you up a little?”

She began to nod, but then her eyes lost focus und she stared past him at god knows what.

“All right, I’ll be back in a sec. Don’t go anywhere.”

Quickly he made his way over to the counter and ordered a whole bottle of water, when he felt the slap of a hand on his left shoulder.

“Wow, you look even more frustrated than after our knock out at the World Cup in 2018. What happened?”

“Don’t ask.” He sighed as he turned around to face his friend. Manuel hoped that he would accept his wish, but when he saw the apologetic look on Thomas’ face, he instantly knew that he wouldn’t drop the topic.

“Too late. I just did.”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, the next words were spoken more to himself than to his teammate.

“Great, just what I need. Another pain in my ass.”

“Another? Who was the first then?” Obviously Thomas had taken no offence and sounded a bit too cheerful for Manuel’s liking.

“She.”

He looked over at the dance floor, where the impertinent woman was just sending her uncle the most beautiful, cheeky grin he had ever seen.

“Who? Y/N?” his friend asked incredulously.

Y/N. So that was her name.

“You know that annoying woman?”

“I do, although I can’t really say she’s annoying. Met her at the coach’s home once. She seemed rather sweet and intelligent to me.”

“She certainly hid that pretty well,” Manuel growled under his breath, earning him a surprised frown from Thomas.

“Are you gonna stand here and stare daggers at her or are you gonna tell me what she did to make you throw a fit?”

“She approached me out of nowhere to tell me that I’m dating a teenager to compensate my inability to commit to a partner on eye level.”

Thomas let his words sink in for a while.

“That doesn’t really sound like her. I mean, what reason would she have to come at you like that? She doesn’t even know you.”

Manuel sighed, thinking about the way she had somehow coaxed the statements from him instead of making them herself.

“Well, she might have phrased it differently,” he admitted meekly. That seemed to spark Thomas’ interest even further and he could feel his expectant look on him, pressing him to finally tell the whole truth.

“Actually she didn’t say it like that. She only made an allusion and made me somehow say those things myself.”

“Mhm. And exactly what allusion did she make?”

Manuel rolled his eyes again, his ego still fighting to repeat her words out loud.

”She said puberty was a bitch, clearly hinting at the fact that she thought my girlfriend was too young for me.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence when Thomas’ roaring laughter filled the air.

“Now that does sound more like her.”

He needed a bit to contain himself when he suddenly looked up at Manuel with an unusually serious expression on his face.

“And I have to admit, Manu, she kind of has a fair point there.”

“What?”

Manuel could not believe his ears.

“Come on, man. It’s what everyone thinks. She just said it out loud.”

“Fuck you.”

But instead of rising to his expletive, Thomas just looked at him sympathetically. Pushing himself off of the counter, he pat his shoulder in an attempt to encourage him a little, ready to leave him to his self-denial.

But then he stopped. “You know, I personally didn’t have a problem with it. You’re an adult, you can make your own choices. As long as you’re happy, right? But the truth is, Manu, I don’t think you are. Not anymore.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

“See, I told you he wouldn’t be here. No need for all the panic beforehand.”

She narrowed her eyes at her cousin, shooting her a dirty look.

“Yeah, and I hope it’ll stay that way. Oh, and for the record: I wasn’t panicking at all, it was just you and your sister’s sudden eagerness to lure me here that got me suspicious and nervous in the first place.”

“We didn’t lure you here,” her other cousin piped up a little offendedly. “We simply wanted to spend some time with you. Come on, it’s been what, like 4 months now? Since you moved to Munich three years ago, we hardly get to see you anymore.”

“You and our father,” her sister added quickly. “So it seemed the best option to kill two birds with one stone and bring you along. After all it’s called a family day, right?”

Y/N sighed, not fully convinced, but finally ready to let the topic go.

“Right. Let’s just hope for your sakes that there will be no surprises today that might prove your guilt after all.”

“How are my girls doing?” she heard a familiar voice from behind her back, turning towards her favourite uncle with a beaming smile. What she didn’t see, however, was the brief look that was exchanged between her cousins as soon as she had turned her back, proving exactly what she had suspected all along.

“We’re good, dad. Actually, we’re more than good, we’re excellent,” the older cousin chirped.

“Great.” He paused a moment, but it was clear that he had more to say. Rocking back and forth on his feet, he looked from one woman to the other. “So,” he began carefully, before a huge Cheshire grin spread across his face. “I hope you all reserved a dance for me tonight.”

“Oh, no, daddy, not again.”

“Please, don’t make us do this.”

“There will be dancing here? If you had told me that beforehand, I certainly wouldn’t have come.”

“Of course there will be dancing. I thought that was obvious.” He had to try very hard to look a little slighted, while he actually drew a horrendous amount of amusement from their antics. “Remember, girls, we have a tradition to uphold. Whenever there is some dancing at a party, you have to reserve at least one dance for me. That’s the rule.”

And with that he turned and left them on their own again.

“Ugh, why does he always have to do that to us?” her younger cousin whined.

“Oh stop it, silly. You’re the one who likes it the most and everyone knows.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

She had been the first to pay tribute to the family tradition and after a very exhausting Discofox dance session, luckily one of her cousins had taken over from her. Kicking off her heels, she welcomed the feel of the cool grass underneath the soles of her feet. Walking over to one of the empty tables, she slumped down heavily into one of the comfortable looking chairs. With a contented smile she let herself fall back against the backrest, closing her eyes and breathing in the mild air of the warm summer night.

“Care for a drink?”

His voice made her jump, sitting up straight immediately, eyes shooting wide open. And there he was, two shot glasses in his large hands and grinning down at her, obviously very satisfied with the slight scare he had just given her. He looked amazing, the smug bastard, in his casual jeans and white shirt, two buttons undone, topped with a sporty black jacket. She highly doubted that she had ever seen a finer man in her entire life. Luckily that didn’t make her lose her sharp tongue.

“And here I am thinking that you weren’t fond of alcohol. What happened?”

He smiled sheepishly, only one corner of his mouth tugged up, when he handed her her drink. He took his time, grabbing a chair and positioning it opposite hers, then sitting down carefully, not wanting to spill the shot all over his chest. She had already come to think that he was trying to avoid her question after all, when he locked eyes with her and finally began to speak.

“Hm. It’s been a while since I last saw you. A lot of things happened, you know. Maybe it was finally time for me to grow up.”

“Hear, hear.” With a mischievous smile she raised her glass. “To your coming of age, then.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “If you insist.”

His magnificent blue eyes never left hers while they chinked glasses, and a second later she could feel the more than welcome liquid moisturising her suddenly very dry mouth.

With a thud, their glasses landed on the table, both of them chuckling like giddy children when their eyes found each other again and then, for a moment, there was nothing but silence. The world seemed to have zoned out, leaving behind nothing but his aquamarine orbs and the wild smile on his face.

Just gradually, the world seemed to set back in again. There was the monotonous clitter of the crickets, overlaid by the muffled sound of the music that was carried over by a soft breeze, and loudest of all she could hear the beating of her own heart against her chest.

“What else has changed now that you are a proper adult?” she heard herself ask, not having the faintest idea where those words came from and how the hell she managed to deliver them so smoothly when her whole body seemed to have gotten out of control.

He took a quick look over his shoulder, his thumb pointing in the same direction.

“If you mean the dancing, I’m still not very fond of that.” Her face must have fallen a little because he was quick to add, “Except...”

“Except what?”

His eyes landed back on hers and she almost choked on her hitching breath.

“Except I think I could make an exception for the right partner.”

From the corner of her eye she registered a movement between their bodies, but she was hesitant to let her view stray from his captivating appearance. At last it was something in his eyes that looked at her expectantly which finally made her snap out of her trance.

Looking down at his hand sheepishly, it took her a while to fathom that he was actually asking her to dance with him.

Slowly her eyes wandered up to his again, asking a silent question, which he answered with an almost imperceptible rise of his eyebrows. And before she knew what she was doing, she laid her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet.

He had just turned towards the source of the music, when she suddenly held him back.

“No, wait.”

With a puzzled look he did what she asked of him and let her twist him back around.

“Why don’t we just stay here? The music is loud enough anyway.”

A gentle smile curved his lips. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

She nodded softly, her teeth biting down on her lip in excitement.

And before she knew what was happening, she found herself secured against his chest by his firm grip. It felt like being pressed up to a hot furnace which she would usually have appreciated any other time, but on a sweltry night like this and in a place she had wanted to be in for so long, it was pure torture. And as if this wasn’t bad enough already, his strong fingers pressed down on her lower back, threatening to scorch her even through the fabric of her blouse as he pulled her an impossible inch further into him. He was so close now that she could sense the heat radiating off his cheek as well, bringing along a whiff of his enticing scent and she couldn’t help but close her eyes as she inhaled deeply and her head began to spin. It was odd, but her mind was completely blank by now, blank except for one thought and her lips spread into a blissful smile as she repeated it in her head again and again, relishing in the feeling that if either of them moved just the tiniest bit, their cheeks would inevitably touch.

Slowly they moved and despite the unhurried shift of their bodies her heart was beating so violently that she thought it pondered jumping out of her chest to meet his. There was no chance he wouldn’t be able to tell from the way he held her, and when he finally drew away a tad to look at her, she fully expected him to call her out for it.

But he didn’t. Instead his sinfully soft lips curled into a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“You were right.”

“I beg your pardon?”

A cute chuckle escaped his mouth, leaving the corners of his eyes crinkled in the most beautiful display of amusement.

“About what you said at your uncle’s birthday party.”

“Oh.” She had said a lot that evening, words that she had come to regret later and remembering them now set her cheeks on fire. “About what exactly?”

“About everything,” he admitted without hesitation, yet he couldn’t hide the spark of misery that flitted across his sea blue orbs. “Didn’t take me very long after that night to finally see things clearly.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was true. Although she knew that she probably sounded like a madwoman after everything she had confronted him with back then, at least the frown on his forehead seemed to confirm that. “I truly am. I really would have liked to see you happy.” Even if it was with that girl.

She was glad she had managed to keep that last bit to herself. She had no idea why she had said that she was sorry in the first place, but judging by the wild smile on his face it must have been the right words after all.

“Well, I certainly am happier now than I was that night.” He shrugged. “So, thank you, I guess.”

She huffed. “For what? Making absolutely inappropriate remarks on your relationship? I shouldn’t have done that. I know that now. So it should be me who is sorry here, don’t you think?”

She could feel his fingertips press into the soft flesh of her back.

“Don’t be. I guess you were exactly what I needed.” It took him a second before he realised what he had just said. “I mean it. It was exactly what I needed.”

His eyes snapped to the left and she was thankful that he couldn’t see the grin that decorated her lips as she watched the treacherous colour creep into his cheeks, spreading all the way to his ears. For a while he didn’t say another word, probably still trying feverishly to figure out a way to take back his slip of the tongue. And when he finally spoke, she wished he hadn’t.

“There is one thing though that I have gone over and over in my mind. But no matter how long I think about it, it just won’t make sense.”

She already knew that she wouldn’t like where this conversation was heading now, but she found herself asking nonetheless.

“And what is that?”

His head turned without a warning as his eyes searched her gaze and for the blink of an eye his lips came so close that she couldn’t say if they had actually brushed along hers or if her needy heart had just imagined their brief touch. He didn’t answer her question right away, his breath blending with her own in the narrow space between their faces and suddenly she wasn’t so sure anymore if she had really only dreamed up their fleeting foretaste of a kiss.

“Why did you do it?” Panic rose in her chest. She hadn’t done anything. After all it had been him who had turned his head. But as he went on, she realised that he wasn’t referring to that at all and the suffocating distress eased away bit by bit. “I mean, we didn’t even know each other when you decided to come at me like that.”

Now it was her who had to avert her gaze.

“I think I don’t really want to answer that question.”

“Why not?” His voice was so soft and gentle, making it even harder to answer him.

“Because the truth might be kind of ugly.”

“But the outcome wasn’t, so I think I’ll take that risk.”

Her feet stopped their mechanical movements as a violent shiver ran down her spine. So this would be it then. It would be over before it had really begun. Pity. But at least she would have the memory of these few minutes, of his genuine smile and the way he had held her tight against his chest. With a deep sigh she bid their daydream of a dance goodbye.

“I could tell you now that it was for some noble reason, but at the bottom of it all I think it was nothing more than jealousy that drew me to your table that night. I had been unable to ignore you all evening — ignore her. The way she behaved like a spoiled brat, drinking and losing control, not caring in the least that she not only made a fool out of herself but of you as well. God, I hated her in that moment, for having everything I ever wanted and riding roughshod over it. And when I saw you sitting there, looking so utterly crestfallen, somehow I couldn’t help it.”

An undefinable silence settled between them and the only sound that remained was the beat of the music wafting over from the party that went on behind his back. The faint whisper of the melody seemed to push itself up between them and tear them further apart, exactly as she had expected. And just like the bass, her heartbeat slowed until it died away completely.

It was over and everything she wanted to do was let go of his hand so she could do him the favour of leaving, but to her astonishment he refused to set her free. And rather then releasing her from his grip, he squeezed her hand, briefly and just once, but it was enough for her to find the courage and face him. But instead of finding a frown or a scornful pair of eyes, his blinding smile made her forget to breathe for a moment.

“I had hoped you might say that.” And with that he pulled her into his arms again and continued swaying her to the music as if she had not just revealed her repulsive self to him. Her brain still a step behind, she couldn’t do anything but stare up at him stupidly.

“What? Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” And when she shook her head like a petrified imbecile, an amused chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Because even though your behaviour was extremely infuriating, I have to admit that I like you. And asking you out on a date will be so much easier now that I know you like me too.”

With a violent jolt, the useless muscle inside her chest started to beat again, its heavy pounding filling her ears with white noise as the world around her started to spin. Unable to stop the motion, she felt herself leaning in, her nails digging into the undoubtedly expensive fabric of his jacket as she desperately tried to gain control over her unruly body.

“So, will you go out with me?”

It seemed like an eternity until she finally mustered the strength for a mechanical nod. Neither had she noticed in her struggle that he had stopped dancing, nor that the priceless look on her face had made his eyes and heart go soft for her.

“Great. That’s settled then. When are you free?”

It was only when he took a step back, taking his warmth with him as his hand slipped out of hers, that she snapped out of her trance.

“Now.”

“Now? Like right now?”

More like now as in before she could screw everything up again.

“Yes, why not? I know you have a busy schedule, so finding a date when we are both free might be tough. And above that, it is a beautiful summer evening.”

Had all those words really fallen from her mouth right now? Embarrassed about her lack of composure, her hand flew up to her mouth, making him smile again.

“I guess you have a fair point there.” And just like that, his hand was there again, fingers entwining slowly with hers like they had never been meant for anyone else. “All right then, let’s get out of here.”

***

Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @nerra75 @indigosaurus @nowyouseeme098 @cap-just-said-language @miss-rebel-without-applause @wheretheriversrunintothesea @maan24 @mochionly @introvertedmouse @sofiebstar @kebabgirl67 @marytudorbrandon @littleone65

[blossom-hwa]

hiatus.

I’m really tired. 

It sucks - like really fucking sucks - to put so much effort into creating things that I like and enjoy enough to post online in the hopes that other people will feel the same, but no one interacts or says anything about it. It would be one thing if no one actually liked it - which is totally fine because other people have other tastes and I’m not going to go and say everyone has to love what I write - but it’s a total other thing when I can see people binge-liking my posts and never reblogging or commenting on a single one. 

I don’t know. It’s just so tiring, and honestly a little embarrassing, to remember that I spent a month writing a novel-length fic for each part to get maybe 40 notes. Or something. It’s embarrassing that I tried so hard to create something beautiful and people just passed it by with a glancing look. Or just stepped on it entirely. I think about it and it’s just. Why do I do it. Why do I even post. I don’t gain anything from it. 

I’m thinking of leaving Tumblr. I’ve spent four, almost five years here, and for the most part it’s been a good time, but interaction has just keep decreasing and decreasing over the years and to be quite frank it makes me feel like shit. The quality of the site itself keeps worsening too - the tag system is so fucked, I can’t even click through reblogs with tags anymore, the website formate is gross - so combine that with the fact that I’m creating work for a mostly silent audience and I hope you can understand why I feel this way. 

So I’m taking a break. It’ll probably be somewhere between two weeks and a month, I’m not sure, but it’ll be as long as I need. With that time I’ll be figuring out whether or not I stop writing here, and even if I decide not to stop entirely, I’ll probably turn some of my focus to another platform instead. There’s no need to keep embarrassing myself here by working so hard on works that only a few care enough to leave a comment on. 

Sorry I sound bitter. I am. I’ve kept hoping that things would get better but they just haven’t, it all keeps getting worse. My spiraling mental health also needs taking care of and if Tumblr is going to keep dragging it down, then I will cut it off. I’ve got a lot of stuff on my plate and I can’t keep trying to care about something that doesn’t care about me. And if you’re going to try and preach to me about not caring about notes and numbers, don’t. Just don’t. I can’t guarantee how I’m going to react but I do know that it won’t go over well. 

All fics have been taken out of the queue. Their post dates have been changed. If I decide to stay here I’ll re-queue them, but I won’t be posting during this break. I can be reached through my dms or on my other socials if you have them. I won’t be answering asks unless I really feel the need to address something. To everyone who has commented/reblogged/supported me over the past few months, thank you so much - I really appreciate you. It means a lot to me. 

See you in a bit.

[h3art-n-s0ul]

Grocery Shopping Together part 3

Ushijima, Daichi, Hinata

Genre: Fluff

(Please feel free to reblog and comment)

Part 1 and Part 2

This will be the final part but please leave any requests for any fics or hc's you want to see!

___________________________

Ushijima: Stands in the grocery line for you while you go eat samples

-The patience this man has

-Just wants you to be happy

-Definitely lets you buy whatever you want

-Just obsessed with your smile

-Chivalry isn't dead

-He makes waiting in line a good time

The line was honestly incredible. Unnatural.

“Woah.” You stared in disbelief. The two staff members looked so panicked and you swore you’d never seen a human being move so quickly. Well, at scanning items. The rapid beeping was so consistent, you couldn’t keep up.

“Y/n?” Your boyfriend brought you out of your dazed stupor.

“O-oh. Sorry, I was distracted. Toshi, what are we going to do? It’ll take an eternity to get through this line.” You crossed your arms and huffed.

“It’s alright love. I’m sure it’ll go faster than you think.” His towering figure inclined toward you and he tilted your chin upward.

“And of course you make it bearable.” You smiled when he kissed your forehead.

“Hey, they have a ton of free samples in the back of the store,” He pointed. “How about, you go and try some?”

“But Ushi, our stuff…” You looked downward.

“I’ll stay in line Y/n. It’s fine, lovely.” He dropped his hand to squeeze yours.

“Really? Thank you so much! Love you! I’ll be right back!” You reassured him and ran towards the samples. When you were out of sight, Ushijima couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto his features. You were so damn cute. He would die just to see you all ecstatic again.

A few minutes later you returned with a tiny paper plate, filled with snacks sitting at the ends of toothpicks.

“Here Toshi! I brought the best ones so you could try some of them too!” You fed him each individual food and waited for his verdict with wide eyes.

“Yeah I like this one better than the last one.” He commented. He loved how easily pleased you were.

This was his favorite thing, just enjoying small special moments with you.

___________________________

Daichi: Pushes you around in the cart

-Doesn't want to break store policy

-Like as much as he loves you, getting kicked out of a grocery store is not on his to-do list

-He is just such a sucker for you when you beg

--Already head over heels for you

-Always has to bribe you in exchange for denying you grocery cart access

-He's basically a glorified babysitter let's be real

“Oh my gosh it’s perfect. It’ll look so good on the windowsill in the bedroom!” You squealed.

Daichi couldn’t believe that you were this excited over a tiny potted plant.

“I’m worried you’re starting to like that plant more than me.” Daichi scoffed.

“Well come on, it’s not like you can compete. This is the cutest thing in existence!” You raised the little plant Lion King style into the air.

“Well I mean, almost.” Daichi shrugged. “The plant is second to you.” He tapped the tip of your nose with his finger.

“Ugh you’re such a sap.” You laughed and turned to him.

“Only for you.”

“Well in that case, I am going to take this rare opportunity to ask...Can I please please please ride in the cart, Dai? You know, since you love me so much?” Daichi rolled his eyes. You asked every single time you two went to the store. He was already expecting it. And he was 1000% ready to deny your request as usual. But with the puppy eyes you were throwing at him, that stupid little plant clutched in your hands...It was too much. I mean the guy was only human. He sighed. “Okay. Fine.” He watched your eyes light up. “BUT BUT- Only this ONE time. Got it?”

You nodded fervidly and started to climb into the cart.

It must have looked ridiculous. You, sitting cross legged in a shopping cart, grasping a tiny plant in your lap, while a grown man pushed you around.

Even if you did look ridiculous, you didn’t care. You were perfectly content as long as you were in Daichi’s arms, well er- cart.

___________________________

Hinata: You two race to find items the fastest.

-People aren't really sure if you two are in an actual relationship as much as you're in an enemies with benefits situation, with how competitive you are

-It's always only in the name of fun

-He's still so sweet on you

-He is also fantastic at distracting you which is great unless you're actually trying to be productive

-Super comfortable around each other

It had been a few weeks since you had been grocery shopping and the crumpled paper list clutched in your hand was a mile long.

“I’m sorry you came with me, Shoyo. This is going to take forever!” You whined and leaned against his side.

“Hey Y/n it’s okay! I can help get stuff for you!” Typical Hinata. Internally, he was frantically trying to come up with a way to make grocery shopping more fun for you.

“Thanks Shoyo. You sure you don’t wanna go home? This is going to take a while and I’d much rather just lay in bed and binge watch a tv show with you.” You complained.

“Trust me, I would too. But I promise I’ll get as many things on that list as possible for you!” Hinata smiled brightly and you couldn’t help but think how sweet he was.

“In fact, I bet I can find the things on your list faster than you.” He knew exactly how to motivate you. Competition.

“Oh really? Are you prepared to test that theory, Sho?” You ripped the list in half and gave him the longer half.

“Hey! This is cheating.” He held up his half of the list.

“You’re the one who initiated the competition, and I figured since you were so confident…” You leered.

“Fine. I’ll still beat you.” He laughed and continued, “Meet at the checkout? Winner gets to choose the show we watch tonight.”

“Deal! You’re on.” You shook hands with him.

“Ready?”

“GO!” Both you and Hinata broke into a sprint, heading in opposite directions.

Time skip tilde~

“I still don’t understand how you won!”

“Shoyo. Maybe because you forgot to get a cart and instead haphazardly decided to carry everything.” You rolled your eyes.

“There wasn’t enough time!”

[babbushka]

hi, hope you’re doing alright! just want to pick your brain about this because i’d love to know your thoughts - a fic writer that i love in a different fandom and actively interact with described how she felt discouraged by the few amounts of comments and reblogs she got on her fics and basically set out some pretty strict guidelines about the amount of notes with comments she required to put out the next chapter of her fics. i thought that was perfectly reasonable but she got so much backlash for it! a lot of fic readers told her that she was ruining the creativity of fics by ‘demanding’ a certain number of notes and running her blog like a business instead of just being something for fun. it shocked me because im not a writer but i could totally understand it being discouraging to feel like your putting out fics and not hearing anything about them, especially when fandoms are so community based! what do you think, i’m very curious!! hope the universe is treating you kindly <3

Hello my dear anon! I've got to be honest, things aren't so great right now in my personal life (lots of very tiring health and family situations going on all at once lol, ya know when it rains it pours) but I think this is a VERY interesting subject.

If you had asked me a couple years ago, I would have probably agreed with some of the readers saying that doing something like that feels transactional. But honestly, now? I'm at a place with fandom (and honestly on the precipice of quitting entirely like every 2 weeks lol) where it IS a transaction.

Fandom only exists when there is a healthy ecosystem of "producer" and "consumer", if you will. The people creating the content are doing so, so that the fandom can read the fic or appreciate the art/memes. Fandom thrives when there is an equal exchange of appreciation. If no one reads someone's fic, authors stop writing. And then we get out of balance, where authors feel unappreciated or ignored and they leave.

Fanfiction should be fun. But the fun part of fanfiction is sharing it. The fun part of being in a community is interacting with it. The actual writing process is a nightmare -- it's a lot of work mentally, and it's very time consuming. So to work so hard on something like that and sharing it -- to absolute crickets is so so so so disheartening.

I wish I had the balls to say "listen if no one interacts with this chapter fic i'm not finishing it." I give MAJOR kudos to that author for sticking up for themselves and their efforts. My personal philosophy is if you want to complain about something just do it yourself. People forget that this stuff is FREE. We try to escape into this fandom and create spaces of insane amounts of FREE literature, artwork, memes, it's a social space that is intrinsically built on the idea that collaboration and community are the driving forces of innovation.

I feel this way especially when it comes to things like prompt requests or submissions. I'm sorry, but if you're asking someone to spend the time to make you something for free, the least you can do is comment on it, or reblog it, or hell, even like it. The demanding seriously has got to stop. When an author is only ever getting demands or backlash or hate, and no appreciation, how can you blame them for quitting? I certainly don't.

We need to do more than simply respect our fandom creators, we need to appreciate them openly where they can see it. Because you can gush to your friends all you want about this writing, but if no one is showing the actual author any love, they're going to feel like no one cares about them. And when that happens, it's no longer a community, it's a bunch of people complaining.

Anyway those are my thoughts on the subject. I hope that you're doing well and I'm sending you all my love! :)

[space-kitten-606]

Hello! I just wanted to tell you that I love your blog!! I'm new on tumblr and I love Mysme and Saeyoung! And your writing is so beautiful!🥺 Your fics always fill me with warmth and your understanding of Saeyoung's character is so on point! I have told you before how one of your pieces helped me get the closure I wanted which the game couldn't provide and now reading your other pieces is my prime source of comfort 💖

I know you haven't been posting lately surely because of real life stuff, but I'm hoping and patiently waiting for you to post or open your requests whenever you feel like! Meanwhile I will continue devouring your previous works and swoon💕💕💕

Following you was the best!!♥️♥️♥️

Please take care of yourself and talk to us whenever you want to ♡

Sending lots of love and warm hugs🫂💕

Oh? My? God? This ask is the cutest thing ever, thank you so much for all those kind words!! You really made my day with this!!

I'm happy to hear my writing is such a great source of comfort for you. I'm trying my best to get Saeyoung just right, and I'm glad that apparently I'm hitting the mark :D

True, I have not been posting a lot. Some of it is real life stuff indeed, but in other ways, I am very demotivated. I'm sure you have seen the occasional post I shared about lack of interaction in the form of comments and reblogs. I understand that this fandom is not as active as it was 4 years ago, which was when I joined, but the decline was very noticeable even then. Looking at the creators in other fandoms, I can tell that it is also just a shift in tumblr culture I suppose, even more so as users that have been used to TikTok, Twitter and Instagram migrate. I'm happy to see people join this site, but on the other hand I really wish that they would listen to us creators when we tell them how this site works, instead of throwing insults at us, calling us greedy and ungrateful. It is very discouraging putting your work out there, or even sitting down and writing in the first place, if you know that the hours of work you have put into it will probably not be appreciated. Every single time I post, it's an incredible blow to my mental health, because every single time I get disappointed. And don't get me started about the people that will reblog the posts about how reblogs are important for creators and then scroll over my writing anyway, only leaving a like. Anyone who feels called out on this, yes I am probably talking about you. I see you in my notes. Furthermore, I keep seeing people going through my recent posts and reblogging every single piece of art, but none of my writing. It just gets a like and they move on. And at this point, I don't know what to do. I am putting read mores on all of my posts. I tried different lengths before the cut off, but no matter how short, it doesn't get shared. I have a rule in my rule post that asks requesters to either reblog or give me written feedback, but for the longest time, I haven't seen it happen. I feel like a broken record. I feel ignored. And it makes me sad.

If anyone who reads this even just things about telling me "you should write for yourself", then I'm going to come to your house and beat you with a steel pipe. Yes, I should write for myself. But I post for you. I write your requests for you. And in extension to this, I often also write for you, because otherwise I just keep those ideas in my head.

I'm sorry for ranting so much about this, but as you can see I have very strong feelings about this situation. So. I'm not opening my requests for now, because honestly I'm sick of only giving and using my free time to give joy to people that refuse to give back.

If you want to however, you can send something in and I will see if it sparks anything. After all you are one of the few people who have actually shown support in the last few months.

I really hope this message didn't ruin the intention of your ask. As I said, I really appreciate you and I appreciate seeing you in my notes with your kind tags. They always bring a smile to my face. Stay safe and healthy and I hope you're having a wonderful day/night. Sending you lots of hugs as well.

[galacticgraffiti]

Hi! Hope you're having a nice day 💖 I just need some advice regarding reblogging. As much as I love your work, I also keep my blog sfw, so I share your posts personally via dm instead of reblogging them. Does that help? Because I get the frustration over the skewed likes:reblog ratio huhuhu

Hello my darling nonnie!

It's so kind of you to check in, I really appreciate it.

None of my anger and frustration is directed at people with SFW blogs or people that just feel uncomfortable reblogging NSFW content for whatever reason. I get it, and, of course, reblogging is not a requirement. Sharing my stories via DMs is sooo much more than most people do, so honestly, mad props to you for doing that!

My frustration is directed at the blogs I know make NSFW content themselves and keep liking instead of reblogging other creators. It's directed at those who keep liking my stuff and never ever tell me a kind word about it, whether it be in comments or as an ask (even anonymous).

We as creators do not get paid for the content we make although it requires effort and time and love and care. We are 'paid' for the work we put into our content by kind words and comments only. This goes especially for fic writers, who, unlike artists, cannot accept commissions for their works.

We keep reminding people to share our work - and of course, reblogging is the 'easiest' way to do that, to create exposure for us and thus get us more people who might reblog or comment or leave some kind words in our inboxes. But like I said, if you share my works via DMs that is so much more than 90% of the readership do, and I really really appreciate that! Never feel bad for not reblogging if you just can't or don't want to.

I hope this makes any sense? Idk. In any case, thank you again for asking and checking in, that is so very sweet of you.

Just one last thing, to maybe give you (as in, the general 'You') some perspective: Veman'alor, my longest work, is 128k words by now. That's about 228 pages. This is one plotline, characters that I pour my heart into, things I have to think through as if I were writing a novel. New chapters get less notes than any single one of my oneshots ever get, even though people keep requesting Boba from me. So my motivation to continue writing multichapter fics is, at this point, mostly myself wanting to finish the story and the few people who are invested and keep commenting and encouraging me.

It is incredibly frustrating, especially when you keep telling yourself that you're doing it for yourself, and because you love it, and for the people who actually care. But you just know it would be so easy for people to share your works if they like them. The requests keep coming, but once they are written, they are rarely appreciated.

Sorry this was such a rant. None of this is directed at you personally, sweet nonnie. I just needed to get this off my chest.

[suchalonelysunflower]

Merry Crisis (a.i)

Pairing: Ashton Irwin (ft.5SOS) X Fem!reader (Dad!Ash)

Summary: Shopping is always stressful, but when you have a baby on the way... it can become a chaos, especially when you have 3 crazy best friends with you.

Warnings: Language. Fluff and some crackhead moments. Reader uses she/her pronouns. Mentions of Birth. Some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, sorry)

Word count: 4.5 k

Author’s note: Hello! This is my first Holiday fic with 5SOS and it’s Ashton’s turn to shine (even tho each boy gets their moment) This was so fun to write, I did it on my sociology class (so maybe it’s not that perfect) and I love it very much and I hope you do too! Reblogs, feedback and comments are always welcome and encouraged! Support your writers! ❤️ Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋❤️

My materialist // wanna be on my tag list?

Twas the evening before Christmas, the streets were filled with Christmas lights and the chill air of Los Angeles made everything cozier as families gathered around the fireplace and enjoyed the most peaceful of times…

This statement does not apply to our favorite band, tho.

Our four Australians were not enjoying a cup of hot cocoa with their families as they were supposed to, oh no. They were doing the most dreadful thing a person could think of doing the night before dear Santa came to visit: They were Christmas shopping.

In their defense - or at least Calum’s, Michael’s and Luke’s defense, this was all Ashton’s fault for he was the one that dragged them to the crowded mall in the middle of one of the busiest days of the year. And, in Ashton’s defense, it was not his fault that the store had called him in the middle of a recording session to tell him that they finally had the only thing he wanted for Christmas: A music box.

He just had to get it before everyone else.

“Why did we come all over here for a little music box?” Asked Michael as they stood at the end of the line for the register. How could they only have one register open? It’s Christmas for fucks sake! but then again, it’s Christmas for fucks sake, so they know that people should be with their families instead of working a poorly paid job.

“It was the last one!” Ashton claimed, admiring the little circular box in his hand “It’s a limited edition and I just had to get it for Y/N and for the baby”

His eyes lit up when your name escaped his lips. Not even a year ago did he officially make you his wife, but now you were carrying his child! People might think it was rushed, but for Ashton it was the complete opposite. He had his life made when he met you, knowing that he will marry you as soon as he could… he had to wait a few more years to do that, but he was extremely happy, more so now that your little family was expanding. He loved you and your child with all his heart, and the boys all knew that so they can't even be mad about it, even if he kidnapped them to the mall with the promise of some cinnabuns later.

“She had one of these when she was little” Ashton continued as he admired the little hand painted details of the box “It always played a little lullaby to help her sleep. But it broke a few years ago and she always complained about not having one like this for her kids one day… But now she will!” The black haired man smiled.

“Shit, that’s actually pretty sweet” Michael commented “Okay, you’re forgiven”

“I don’t know if I want to hug you for being the perfect husband, or to kick you in the balls for being the perfect husband and making the rest of us feel bad” Luke chuckled.

The four boys laughed at the comment and started talking about their plans for the Holidays as they waited for the line to move. The problem was, it has been fifteen minutes and the line has only moved once.

“How long is this line anyway?” Calum said, peeking over the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he noticed at least thirty more people waiting in front of them “Shit, this is going to take a while. That man has at least twenty plushies and eleven race cars”

“I don’t know how people could leave this kind of stuff for the last minute” Ashton huffed, earning a death glare from each of his friends “This one is different, tho! It was the last one!”

“I’ll give you a hundred bucks for that!” Someone said behind Luke, making him jump at the sudden surprise.

“What the-” Luke said, placing a hand over his heart.

It was a short man in a trench coat who pointed to the music box in Ashton’s hand.

Ashton furrowed his eyebrows and said to the man “Uh, not a chance mate”

“Two hundred?”

“Nope”

“Five hundred?” The man would just not cave and Ashton was getting fed up with it, luckily Calum noticed and hurried to say something before his friend started a scene.

“Hey, mr. Devito wannabe. He said no, so just go bother someone else. Okay?”

The man scoffed and turned his face to the side, stating that he was offended. The four Australians rolled their eyes and turned their backs to him once again.

Another fifteen minutes passed and the line barely moved. The guys were not talking anymore, running out of things to say past the twenty minute mark. Each of them were bored out of their minds, well all but Ashton at least, he was still gleaming with pride as he looked at the music box and created scenarios in his head and thought about the joy that would be mirrored in your eyes once you open it tomorrow morning.

After a few more minutes of silence, Luke was the first one to break it “I think I’m just gonna get a coffee and wait in the car. These boots are killing me today” He looked at Ashton as if to ask permission, but the dark haired man just shrugged and nodded, asking him to buy one for him as well and to leave it in the car.

Michael then added “Yeah, I think I’m gonna go and check the electronics this store has. I think I saw a new camera that would be perfect for my streams”

And that only left Calum and Ashton waiting in line. But about five seconds later, Calum opened his mouth.

“Yes, you can go explore, too” Ashton said with a sigh before Calum even got a chance to ask.

“Cool” The curly man said, patting Ashton on the back before muttering a ‘I’ll be right back’ Leaving him alone with the music box.

Ashton didn’t mind. In fact, he kind of enjoyed this time alone. It gave him plenty of opportunities to imagine a new future for the both of you next to your little baby boy or girl. He catched a glimpse of families walking around the mall, buying gifts or eating a snack as they smiled at each other. He couldn’t wait for that to be his new normal.

He remembered the time when you told him you were pregnant. You gifted him a special baby bodysuit that said “My daddy is the best drummer in the world and there is nothing you can do about it” next to your positive pregnancy test. Ashton always wanted to start a family, especially if it was with you, but he never expected it to be so soon. Yet, once he held the test in his trembling hands, he knew that this was the best thing it could’ve happened to him. He remembers how tearful he got the second his brain processes the information, quickly running up to you and pressing an earth shattering kiss to your lips, promising you and your baby that he would be the best father in the world.

And, as he held the little object in his hand, he already thought he was doing a pretty good job. He smiled to himself and thought about calling you. Not only did he want to hear your voice at this moment, but also because he wanted to check up on you. You were having tea with your best friend at the moment, but the pregnancy hormones were hitting pretty hard lately and he wanted to make sure you were doing alright.

But as soon as he got his phone out of his pocket, your name started glowing on the screen.

“Baby! I was just about to call you” Ashton said with a smile, loving this little coincidence.

“Ashton, is coming!” You said in an alarming tone. Ashton, however, did not understand what you meant.

“Yeah? I’m coming home soon, why are-?”

“No!” You cut him off “The baby, Ash! The baby is coming!”

Ashton laughed “Ha, ha very funny Y/N. But the baby isn’t due until three weeks from now”

“ASHTON FLETCHER IRWIN” You yelled through the phone, making Ashton pull away from the phone for a second “MY WATER BROKE AND THE BABY IS COMING NOW. SO GET YOUR ASS TO THE HOSPITAL BEFORE I-” A sharp pain ran through you as you were experiencing the contractions. Ashton could hear your distant groan and immediately went pale.

The baby was coming and he wasn’t ready.

“Ash, hello?” Your friend’s calm voice came from the other end “I’m gonna take Y/N to the hospital right now. I need you to meet us there, okay?”

“Fuck, okay. I’m on my way” He rushed to say before he ended the call.

“Hey, dude. What’s going-?” Michael said as he approached the black haired man who looked like he might throw up.

“The baby’s coming!” He said, trying to concentrate on his breathing before he hyperventilates.

“What?!”

“Hey, Mike, is everything-?” Calum came next, worried about his friends’ weird behavior.

“THE BABY IS COMING”

Michael.

The guitarist started wandering the electronics and new technologies hall. He was secretly glad he got away from waiting in line for what it looked like another hour, but at the same time he was glad he decided to accompany Ashton in his little quest.

The moment he knew you were pregnant he set himself to be the best uncle that little kid will have. He already knew that you and Ashton were going to be great parents, with the way in which you love each other it was hard to think otherwise. Michael was always up for anything you guys wanted to do for each other, from secret dates or help you sneak out after a concert, or even to plan gifts! He always took pride to know that he was part of your epic love story, even if it was with just a little favor.

Michael stepped into the videogame aisle like he usually does, but this time he went directly to the kid’s section, knowing that eventually your baby will want to play videogames with uncle Mikey and he will have to be ready with the most family friendly games he could find.

He started grabbing a few of them and reading the little summaries they had on the back, eventually deciding that he did not understand anything about children’s games and that he might have to ask around in order to find the best ones.

He went back to the electronics aisle and something caught his attention.

“Is that a real megaphone?” He asked one of the workers there “I haven’t seen one since 2014” He said, remembering the last time the boys ever let him play with one of those in the Good Girls video.

“Yeah! It’s the new model” Said the teenage boy that was in charge of that seccion that day “Wanna try it out?”

“Before that, can I go and show it to my mates? I won’t be gone for long, they are just down the checkout line”

“Sure!” The young man smiled and gave him the megaphone.

Michael had a big smile on his face as he started walking towards Ashton to show him what he found. But his smile dropped the minute he saw Ashton’s face grew a thousand times paler.

He carefully walked up to him and asked “Hey, dude. What 's going-?”

“The baby’s coming!” Ashton said, trying to catch his breath.

“What?!”

Calum.

He hated the mall. He really did. There were always too many people, too much noise and the prices were always exaggerated. But he knew that he was here today for a good cause. Calum was not going to let his best mate down.

Ever since you came into Ashton’s life - and the boys’ life for that matter - he could tell that you were special. Not only because of the way Ashton talked about you all the damn time, but because of your energy, your passion, your kindness and obviously your undenying love for the drummer.

Calum was always the protective friend, always keeping his guard up for any new companion they boys might have. But with you it was different. The first time you two met was the day you instantly became best friends. He knew he could trust you to keep Ashton’s heart safe, and he knew that if Ashton ever broke your heart that he was going to have to kick his ass for being that stupid. Luckily, he wasn’t.

He was the first person (after Ashton, of course) to know about your pregnancy. He swore to himself that he would not let anything happen to his future godson/goddaughter. That baby was going to be the perfect mixture of his best friends, there was nothing in the world that could stop him from loving them just as much as he loves all of you. He even got them toys so they could play with Duke when they’re older! Needless to say that he was very, very excited.

As he wandered through the halls of the store he noticed a commotion next to the toys section.

A line of kids accompanied by their parents awaited in front of a huge chair decorated with fake snow and candy canes. Santa Claus was going to be there.

“Oh my god” A female voice said behind him “You are Calum Hood!”

Calum turned around and was faced with a young girl dressed as an elf looking at him like he hung the moon or something.

“That I am” He said with a smile “Hello, nice to meet you!”

“M-my name’s Lizza” The girl blushed “I’m a huge fan! Is it okay if- I mean, could I get a picture? Please?”

Calum smiled “Sure!”

Lizza squealed “Omg, okay. But, can we do it over there? The kids aren’t supposed to see me yet” She said, pointing to a corner with a curtain and some costumes, presumably Santa’s and his elves'.

Calum nodded and followed the girl, catching a glimpse of the Santa Claus outfit “Do you think I can wear that for the picture?” He asked. Honestly, he just wanted to know how it would feel like to dress up as Santa, knowing he would one day have to do it for your child.

“Of course!” The girl said, taking her phone from her purse and giving it to another elf so he could take the picture.

Once the picture was done, he started to strip off the big red coat, the white beard and the hat when suddenly he had an idea “Is it okay if I borrow this for a while? Maybe five minutes? I wanna prank some friends that are at the check out”

“Uhh”

“I’ll give it back, I promise,” He said with a smile.

Lizza sighed “Sure! We have another one for emergencies”

“Cool, thanks Lizza”

Calum walked away with the fake beard, the warm coat and the hat, feeling cheeky as he approached the line.

“What?!” He heard Michael yell. And although Michael always yells, this one seemed important as his voice sounded concerned.

“Hey, Mike, is everything-?” Calum said, approaching his friends with a very confused face. But before he could even finish the question, Ashton looked at him with fear in his eyes.

“THE BABY IS COMING”

Ashton.

This was not good. Not good at all. His wife is at the hospital about to give birth and he is still in the line of the fucking mall.

“Oh shit!” Calum said, looking frantically over the line that was still too long “OH SHIT”

“Okay calm dow- Is that a Santa costume?” Michael asked.

“Calm down?!” Calum said, panicking “My best friend is having a baby and you tell me to CALM DOWN?!”

“I’m having a baby…” Ashton said in a whisper, not really paying attention to what was going on around him “I’m having a baby”

“Not you!” Said Calum “Well... also you but I meant Y/N! She’s the one pushing it mate” But Ashton did not listen.

His whole world paused in that moment. Too many thoughts were running through his head as he tried to formulate a plan, any plan that would get him the quickest to you.

He thought he was doing a good job, he thought that he was going to be the best dad ever and now he was going to miss the birth of his first child because the line wasn’t fucking moving.

“Ash?” Michael called, but he wasn’t listening.

How could he screw this up so early in the game? Your baby wasn’t even born yet but he swore he could already feel their disappointment.

“Ash..”

And you! How could you ever forgive him?! You will surely file for divorce once the baby is born.

“Ashton!”

“What?!” He yelled, looking at Michael who was shaking him by the shoulders.

“Fucking breathe man! You almost turn purple there”

Michael started breathing at an even pace, motioning Ashton to breathe with him and so he did “It’s going to be okay, don’t worry about it”

“How can you say that?!” Ashton almost cried “I’m not even a dad yet and I’m already screwing up! Who doesn’t show up to the birth of his child?”

Michael rolled his eyes, knowing his friend was just talking out of fear than out of reason, and shook him by the shoulders again “Listen to me, you are already a great dad! You were a dad even before Y/N got pregnant and you are not going to miss the birth of my nephew or niece. I won’t allow it. But first I need you to calm the fuck down!”

Ashton looked at Michael and swallowed the lump in his throat “What if I’m not ready? What if we’re not ready?”

Michael chuckled “You asked me the same question when you were about to walk down the aisle a year ago. You were ready even before you knew you were and this is not different”

But before Ashton could say something, Calum walked up to them again.

“There are fourteen people ahead of us” Said Calum, who had just run up to the start of the line “If we asked them to move, we might get there in time”

“Or maybe you could leave the music box to me…” The man with the weird vibe intervened.

“Fuck off DeVito!” The three Australians yelled.

Suddenly, a lightbulb got turned on on Michael’s head “I got an idea!”

A panicked Calum dressed as Santa and a very panicked Ashton watched as Michael ran out of the store for a second, only to come back pushing a Target cart “Get in!” He said jumping in the cart and motioning to Ashton to follow him.

Ashton jumped inside without asking any questions, not even when Calum started pushing the car or when Michael turned on his… was that a megaphone?!

“Attention ladies and gentlemen” Michael said through the megaphone, making every single person turn their heads towards them, as if two large Australians standing inside of a shopping cart being pushed by a very tattooed Santa Claus wasn’t stiking enough “We have a man that’s going to become a father at any moment now while his wife is in the hospital! Please let us through!”

Ashton does not know if it was the weird scene they caused, his desperate face or Christmas magic that made everyone on the line take a step back as Calum pushed them through the checkout.

Once they got there, the cashier took his money, too shocked to say anything else as Ashton yelled “Keep the change!” As they rushed through the doors and towards the parking lot with Calum pushing the cart at a great speed with all of his energy as all the other customers looked at them and wondered what the hell was going on.

“Mommy?” A confused random kid asked “Why was Santa pushing those men on the cart?”

Luke.

His favorite Christmas playlist was playing in the car. He loved the holidays, but he hated Christmas shopping with his life. So he was very thankful that Ashton could understand this and let him wait in the car.

As he hummed through the song “His Favorite Christmas Story” he thought about the gift he got to your little unborn baby. As soon as he found out you were pregnant, he knew he had to spoil that kid rotten. Well, not that he knew he had to, but he wanted to. You and Ashton were the best people he has ever met, and he knew your little baby was not going to be different, so what’s wrong with giving that child the world they deserve?

A few months ago he talked to a friend of his that made customized presents made of crochet, so he asked if they could make a baby mobile to put over the crib. He also made sure to ask that the animals that were to adorn the mobile were your’s and Ashton’s favorites, and also throwing a little kangaroo in honor of their father’s homeland and a little penguin in honor of their future favorite uncle.

He smiled to himself as he thought he couldn’t wait to meet the little pal and how he couldn’t wait to start a family of his own. But his daydreaming got cut short when he heard a commotion coming from the mall’s doors.

Sirens were ringing and a lot of people stood and watched at whatever was causing the disturbance. He even had to take a double look because he thought he just saw Calum dressed as Santa Claus pushing a shopping cart with Ashton and Michael inside, the latter speaking with a megaphone in his hand. And indeed that is what he saw.

“LUKE START THE CAR” Michael yelled from his megaphone. And Luke, being the smart man that he is, did not ask questions as he did just that.

Soon enough, Calum Santa Claus was jumping inside of the car, followed by Michael and Ashton, who just sat in the front seat.

“What is-?” Luke tried to ask, but his three friends were quicker as they all said at the same time:

“The baby is coming!” “We needed to get the music box” “The line was too fucking long”

“Hurry up, dude!” Calum said, giving Luke a pat on his shoulder as he stared at them, very confused.

“Why didn’t you just leave the music box with one of them?” He said, motioning to his friends in the back “I could’ve come back for them after I dropped you off…”

The three Australians all looked at eachother like they were the most stupid people on the planet. Until Micahel turned on the megaphone again and said with a defeated voice: “Just drive”

The ride to the hospital was silent as Luke drove through the streets of LA at full speed. Michael even turned on the siren of the megaphone to make way across the traffic jam. How the hell they didn’t end up in jail? A Christmas miracle if you ask me.

Once they got there, Ashton was the first one to jump off the car, followed by his best friends as they ran through the hospital’s floors.

“Irwin!” He said, once they got to the maternity wing “Y/N Irwin! My Wife-”

Luke followed, almost knocking down Ashton as his boots slipped on the floor “His wife!” He said, almost out of breath.

“His baby!” Calum added, almost falling to the floor as he tripped over his foot.

And last but not least came a small “Help?” From Michael who was completely out of breath as he sat on one of the chairs in the waiting room.

The nurse, apparently not taken aback at the sudden outburst of three grown man and a Santa Claus in her waiting room, just smiled at Ashton and said: “Over here, Mr. Irwin. You are just in time, she just started dilating…”

But Ashton didn’t hear much as he walked behind her, anxious to see you and see your baby. Breathing heavily as he tried to calm his nerves before he got to your room. He gave one last look to his friends and smiled at them.

“You can do it man!” Michael said, giving him the thumbs up.

“You go Poppa!” Luke cheered.

“We will be here!” Calum said, feeling tears of pride gather up in his eyes as he watched Ashton turn into another hallway, ready to become the dad he always knew he could be.

“Did you actually steal a Santa costume?” Michael said as the other two sat down next to him.

“And you stole a cart and a megaphone so shut up”

A new family.

You watched with tired eyes as your husband held your baby girl in his arms.

“She is so tiny…” He said with fresh happy tears falling rolling down his cheeks. Ashton started crying as soon as he saw her little face and heard his heart shattering cry.

You almost thought that he wasn’t going to make it in time, afraid that you were going to have to get through the birth of your child all alone. But he came through the doors just in time and he did not let go of your hand for a second, even when you knew you were crushing it as you pushed.

“I love you so much” He said, just as he’s been saying for the past hours since he got here “I love you so much and I love her so much I- Thank you”

“Why are you thanking me, love?”

“For giving me the best gift of all” Ashton said as he laid next to you with your daughter curled up on his chest “You gave me the family I always dreamed of. I could never thank you enough for it”

He slowly lowered his head and pressed his lips to yours, showing you all the love that he could in only one simple kiss.

“Well, it’s not like you didn’t help on making this, you know?” You teased, making him chuckle “I should be thanking you, Ash.You and her are the best thing that has ever happened to me, I love you”

“I love you” He said, capturing your lips in another kiss as you let the music box play in the background, filling the room with the notes of your favorite lullaby.

“Should I let the boys in?” He asked as he passed your daughter back to you. You just nodded, not wanting to let your friends wait a second longer to meet your baby. “Oh, and just a heads up, Calum is dressed as Santa Claus and we might never be allowed on the mall again”

You laughed “I can’t wait to hear that story”

Ashton smiled as he got out of the room and walked towards where the boys were sitting. Once they saw him walk up to them, they immediately got up, all of them smiling proudly at the new - official, father of the band.

“Boys, come and meet our baby girl: Jane Elizabeth Irwin”

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @talksoprettyjjx @mystic-232

[awritingtree]

A Dance

George Weasley x reader

Summary: A telling of George and Y/N’s first date, The Yule Ball

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: fluff, cliché and cheesiness

A/N: I was listening to this song and got this idea. So instead of finishing part 4 of never enough, I decided to sit down and write this. It’s so frickin cheesy and not the best I could’ve done but I think it’s cute. I do suck at describing exactly how I pictured everything to be in my mind - I didn’t want it to get too detailed with unnecessary stuff that wasn’t focused on the reader and George. So enjoy this quickly written shitty piece of work lovelies xx

Someone help me with the title if you can come up with a better one 😂

https://open.spotify.com/track/2kfGoV9a5dbSKCNmUWH2ZF?si=d6gCabMCQni4g-5sDTU6Kw

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

George felt his heart stop at the sight of you making your way down the stairs, like an angel descending from heaven. Your dazzling smile made his breath get caught in his throat. He was sure everybody had fallen silent at your entrance, your beauty rendering everyone speechless. It looked like a part of the night sky had been taken just to weave the fabric of the navy-blue dress you wore. It was full-sleeved, and the neckline was modest, showing very little skin. The tiny sparkles looked like twinkling stars as your dress swished around with your movements. Your hair was braided into a crown with small flowers around your head. ‘Forget-me-nots’ recognized George as you walked closer to him. Strands of hair framed your face, delicate diamond earrings dangling from your ears. You wore minimal makeup but managed to look like the most beautiful person on the planet.

You looked like the true Queen you were, in George’s opinion.

Your smile turned nervous, feeling the eyes on you as you walked past everyone towards your date. George’s mouth was slightly agape, his widened eyes never leaving your form.

“You look breathtaking,” he breathed out once you were standing in front of him.

“Thank you,” you spoke shyly, looking down at your feet.

Before you could compliment George back on how handsome he looked, the doors to the Great Hall opened up and everyone began to make their way inside.

George turned around to face you and extended his elbow towards you, “Shall we?” he asked.

You nodded, your arm encircling around his upper arm as you made your way into the Great Hall.

Winter Wonderland. Those were the first words that came to you as you stepped into the transformed hall. It looked nothing like the place you would sit in every day, three times a day, for meals. The walls were covered with a sparkling silver frost; garlands of mistletoe and ivy hung from the ceiling. Fairy lights, which you assumed were actual fairies, floated near the ceiling, sitting in the garlands, lighting up the hall in a soft bluish glow. 

You barely paired attention as the champions led the first dance with their dates; too busy admiring the decorations around you. In the simplest terms, you were in awe.

Your attention was drawn away from your surroundings as George’s voice drifted into your ears.

“May I have this dance?” asked George bowing. A giggle escaped your mouth at his antics.

“Of course,” you curtseyed, playing along, slipping your hand into his.

George brought your hand up as he leaned down to place a small kiss on your knuckles, his eyes looking at you the entire time causing your cheeks to burn as you grinned shyly at him. He slowly guided you to the dance floor with his hand resting on the small of your back, his other hand still holding yours. You placed your hand on his shoulder, as he fully snaked his around your waist. Your conjoined hands intertwined as George led you around the room, in a ballroom dance. 

The light reflecting off the frost-covered walls made you ethereal, in George's eyes. Your eyes shining with happiness as they stared up at him, a soft smile lighting up your already glowing face. The faint smell of the forget-me-not flowers in your hair wafted towards him. Your soft, but slightly sweaty (or was that his sweat?) hands intertwined with his made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

He couldn't believe for a second that you had agreed to come to the ball with you. He had liked you since third year but hadn’t made a move in fear of ruining your friendship. It was when the Yule Ball was announced that he knew it was now or never, the perfect chance to confess and find out if you felt the same way. He had almost backed out. If it weren’t for Ginny and Fred, you would be not here in his arms dancing the night away. He had never been more grateful for his sister and twin than at this moment in time.

"You look really handsome," you said, sweetly. George's cheeks reddened.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said quietly, clearly flustered by your words.

Not many words were spoken as George gracefully danced with you, your dress reflecting light off the sparkles as you twirled around the hall. He spun you away from him, causing you to let out a small squeal, before spinning you back such that your back was pressed against his chest. You swayed to the music in one place with his arms wrapped around your waist, yours resting on his. George's breath tickled your ear, sending shivers down your spine as you closed your eyes in content. George spun you back around much closer than before, your chest pressed against his. He gazed down at you with a look in beautiful chocolate brown eyes, one you had never noticed before - but you would’ve if you had been paying attention. Your eyes gazed back at him with just as much love in them. The people around you faded away as you continued to dance around the hall, your eyes never once straying from the others. 

Neither of you noticed when you’d stopped in the middle of the dance floor, staring at one another, heads inching closer to each other. The world blurred out, the only thing that mattered to either of you was the person standing before them. George’s breath fanned your face, his lips brushing against yours lightly, testing the water. When you didn’t pull away, George pressed his lips against yours, one of his hands remaining at your waist keeping you close to him as his other hand cupped your jaw, tracing your skin. Your hands wrapped around his neck, supporting you as you tiptoed to ensure he didn’t have to lean down too much. 

As you kissed him, you didn’t feel the fireworks or electricity that all the books you read spoke of. You didn’t feel the fireworks.

Instead, you felt a warm feeling flow through your veins, spreading to every extreme of your body. All the worries disappeared from your mind; the only thought, the only feeling was George Weasley. His messy and soft ginger hair, his chocolate brown eyes, his freckles, his chapped lips, his strong arms and hands. His loud laughter, his humour, his pranks, his caring nature, his charisma, his thoughtfulness, his compassion. Everything that was George Weasley.

As you kissed him, his lips moving softly and gently against yours, you didn’t feel this overwhelming excitement that all the love stories spoke of. You felt calm, you felt safe. You felt happy, you felt tranquil. You felt like you were finally home.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

If you enjoyed reading this fic, please like/comment/reblog! Your opinion/feedback is welcome, appreciated, and motivating :)

General taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @pregnant-piggy @approved-by-dentists @kashishwrites @remmyswritings @angelinathebook @idont-knowrn @coffee--writes @kinkyduuh @ickle-ronniekins @the-mighty-bookworm @chaoticgirl04 @malfoyspogue @dracofeltonmalfoy @dracosmainhoe

Lmk if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[dayseternal-blog]

If you ever finish answering all of yours awaiting asks...

45 questions for you 👀

https://myaekingheart.tumblr.com/post/650107314353897472/fic-writer-ask-game

Lolllll BADLUCKBREBIS, you are so funny.

Inspiration and Reading Asks:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

It looks like I started writing in 2017. I've been reflecting recently on how there are so many regularly active writers now compared to in 2017-2018. It was the tail-end of some of my fave writer's activity within fandom. Utsus was posting less and less. The Tumblr NaruHina fandom seemed to disappear, a whole community of writers left for other things (matchaball, nekomamoru, magmawrites, cherryjutsu, spyder-m, tenney-shoes, eliphya, among others). 2018 was a very quiet year, but! I avidly read katarinahime and bunnyhoodlum's works! In 2019, quirrrky restarted things with NaruHina Week!

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

Recently I’m primarily a reader!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because there's so many writers now!!!!!!!!

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

Yeah, let’s list them.  “A Special Friend” by agitosgirl inspired “Nightdreams.  “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake​ inspired “White Lilies.  “Torch Song” by @mmmbuttery inspired “About You.”  The language in “Unless the World Were to End” by @bunny-hoodlum​ inspired the language in “That was the plan.”  “In Between Drinks” by @peppercornpress inspired “In Between Drinks NH.”

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

“Operation: Bring Home Naruto” by Dragonwannabe - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata's been assigned the mission of getting Naruto back home safely after his last dangerous assignment. But can she handle the undercover identity as his girlfriend that she’d been given without revealing her true feelings for him?

“The Mission” by Lunawraythe - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. It wasn't that Hinata never expected to work with Naruto, just never on a mission quite like this.

“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which...Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

ahhh.  I do have quite a few pet peeves.  If the fic is Canon-Compliant or Canon-Divergent, I expect Naruto and Hinata to behave like Japanese people.  Say what you want, but the Naruto Universe is definitely Japanese in my book.  So that means no shoes in the house.  Nothing rattles me more than reading Hinata taking her sandals off before climbing into bed.  Like, what?  she was wearing her outdoor shoes indoors this whole time??

mmm... another pet peeve is when the writer describes Hinata in a kimono, but it sounds like an American Halloween costume, like the slutty version, instead of an actual kimono.

mmm... and the other big pet peeve I have is when it’s Hinata’s first time eating ramen because Naruto is showing her the wonders of ramen.  lol.  why.  how.  in what world would a Japanese person make it to their teenage years without ever eating ramen.

I have a bunch of other little pet peeves regarding Japanese culture in fanfics.  But in general, it doesn’t stop me from reading the fic if I'm already in the middle of it.  I’ll continue reading it and will probably recommend it to other people anyway. If I can tell based on the summary, then it's not for me, and I don't read it. If this makes anyone feel nervous about writing fanfiction, that's not my intention! I would also be happy to be a sensitivity reader if necessary.

6. How do you find new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction?

I primarily read fanfics on AO3 and ffnet.  I find new ones by constantly checking the Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto tag on AO3 or looking into a writer’s favorites list on ffnet.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?

Short fics.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

I reblog pretty often. I don't comment as often as I used to😕 I used to comment on every fic I liked.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

Uhh?? Idk. I think recently the writing group here is pretty tight, everyone seems to know everyone.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Naruto fandom and NaruHina.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

I usually take it from words used in the story or from the prompt.

12. Tell the author your favorite fic title of theirs (not the fic, strictly title). Author: what’s your favorite title you’ve come up with and why?

I think...maybe "Tell Me of Forevers" or "Nightdreams." I like those because they aren't taken word-for-word directly from the story, but touch on a theme in the story.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

Yes, I outline. They wouldn't get a headache, I think. It's usually just a summary.

14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not?

Nope. I didn't know people do that.

15. Tell the author your favorite fic of theirs. What’s your (the author’s) favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite fic continues to be "It's No Secret."

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

Yes, I do. I've done historical and folktale research for "Little Samurai." I did area/location research for "Last Chance." I did historical research for "About You." I did fairy tale research for "Catskin." I did a ton of astronomy research for "The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl." And I did lighting research for "Inspo." I go pretty deep.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

I don't. I usually have something else I need to do or I go to bed.

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?

I actually think I can finish all of mine if I just try.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

I always edit before posting to AO3. Anything I post directly on Tumblr might not be edited.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Posting!

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Starting a new chapter.

22. Do you take fic requests? If so, for what characters and why?

On occasion. If someone sends me a request, I'll think about writing it. Sometimes I do write and post it, sometimes I leave them in my drafts for a better day.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

From what I already have posted, probably friends-to-lovers, secret relationship/forbidden love, or high school au. I don't think I have an intentional favorite.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

Public humiliation / public degradation.

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist.

No, not usually.

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing?

Tumblr feed, all the pictures to scroll through mindlessly.

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random?

lol, whatever is fine.

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

Well, pressure to update is not a big deal to me. I do this for fun, so I don't think I unnecessarily pressure myself too much. With negative comments, I don't get too many of those, and I think I do my best to avoid situations where I might get negative feedback.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it?

Yeah, I like the events. My favorite was NH2020, the year-long one last year. I also enjoyed the Secret Santa last year since @badluckbrebis was my giftee.

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

haha😈

Ecstasy slides through his veins, blooming over his mind, cocooning him in pleasant sensations, cum shooting out in eager twitches against hot, milking flesh.

31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

Naruto Uzumaki, always.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

Top 3 faves in order:

That was the plan: "She shifts in his arms, and cloth and cleavage come pillowing up to his face, and he’s certain that she’s scooped from the same puffy stuff his adolescent daydreams were made of."

Tell Me of Forevers: "What he wouldn’t do to inspire every blush, every smile of hers for an eternity when such moments already only speak “forever” to him."

White Lilies: "Whether at his feet, in his eyes, ears, mind, if not reaching his heart, she never landed anywhere. (It’s okay.)"

I consider "White Lilies" to have my technically best writing, so it was kind of hard to choose just one line from that fic! But I decided that one's my favorite line from the whole story.

33. What do you like writing better: one shots or multi-chapter stuff?

One-shots.

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

A lot of my life experiences are in my writing. Hmm, I think readers probably think I'm...hmm...either empathetic or really perverted?

35. How much has writing fic changed your life?

I spend a lot less time on real-life social media than before.

36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of?

I'm kind of embarrassed of "Honeymoon at the Hot Springs" lol. It's fine.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write.

My current WIP is that A/B/O fic I started for February Smut Month Prompts: Sweet as Candy or Love Bites. I'm going to title it "Sweet As," and it'll be about how Naruto and Hinata become Alpha/Omega mates. It's really kinky, really smutty, and totally what I would want to read.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

uhh???? a 1?? I've never once thought of my writing process as chaotic. Ahh, then I think of bunnyhoodlum's multiple drafts for the same chapter, and I realize that there exist types of writing processes that I would not be able to handle...

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

My smut.

40. How did you come up with the idea for [x fic]?

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)?

Idk about Tumblr,,, maybe White Lilies got the most attention here. My most popular fic is Nightdreams on AO3.

42. Asker: pick three of the author’s works. Author: rank them 1 (the best) - 3 (the worst) based on whatever criteria you want - this could be something totally random that isn’t quality related (like simply ranking fics based on how many trains appear in them) - have fun!

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

I will always remember how people congratulated me for finishing White Lilies😭 Also, when peppercornpresses made that FIRST art of my story, I just, I just stared at it all day.

44. Rant about something writing related.

hmmm, I don't feel like ranting about anything. I just recently ranted about my pet peeves above.

45. Fic specific questions - if you have any weird questions about specific works, here’s your shot to ask them!

I did them all! Nice questions.

[cristobalrios]

My Holo-Headcanons that I still need to turn into fics sometime and the original posts I made about them, A Compilation:

The Trouble With Emergency Holograms: La Sirena Tribble shenanigans, already started writing this one but has just been sitting in my WIPs for like a year.

Multiple Personalities: Some Sci-Fi reason the holos all have to temporarily be inside of Cris's head so they temporarily take over his body like That Episode With Data or That Episode With Seven, or kind of like That Other Episode With Seven and Doc although personally I'd prefer this to be an episode and not a fic, so we actually get to see Santi doing the rapidly-switching-between-personalities thing.

Holo Programs for Emergency Holos: Steward's recreational holo-program for the EHs where everyone gets to have their own dream job that's supposed to be not what they're programmed for, like an "if you could do anything other than your current job, what would it be" scenario. Emil is just... A doctor. Or is he? His hospital is actually a front for his secret spy base and no one knows it until Enoch spies on Emil and then the secret's out.

The Importance of Being Eddie: Rios pretends to be an Emergency Hologram that doesn't exist to get out of a conversation when he was Not in the mood for anything resembling social interaction; it was quick and easy and felt really good so he started using this excuse more, so he invents Eddie, the Emergency Departure Hologram. The Holos hear Rios doing this sometime and decide to help him out and have some fun of their own, so they take turns pretending to be this Eddie holo so people don't only see Eddie when they're looking for the captain and Eddie doesn't only leave the room to "find him" and never come back. And things... Get out of hand. Title named after the fact that this sounds suspiciously close to a variation of "Bunburying" as Algernon named it in The Importance of Being Earnest (I also love the fact that his name is Eddie, as named by @enigma-the-mysterious, specifically for the fact that it's reminiscent of Edward Hyde that this also... kind of resembles, if you squint, although the name came from "Emergency Departure Hologram" and was not, as far as I know, a literary allusion)

Hospitality: The origin of the Emergency Hospitality Holograms, an idea pitched to Doc when working on the Emergency Hologram Basic Installation Package, by his friend and fellow Voyager veteran Neelix, after meeting another beloved self-aware hologram, Vic Fontaine. Not exactly a story about our Holos on La Sirena, but sort of an origin story for Steward, so related.

The KitKats and That Time Cris's Generosity Was Mistaken for Negligence: Working title. Two things were talked about here; a Cute Fluff story where Enoch gets to have Emil's KitKat because Emil doesn't like them, but there are Conditions, and; Rios handing some things out the the holos, and Enoch sneaks back in line seeing if he can get away with getting Two without Cris noticing, and when Cris does give him another without any comment, he is suddenly worried that Cris really didn't notice that one of the holos was there twice and he's slightly offended.

Holo-ween: The Holos have a tradition on Halloween; try to confuse Rios about which Holo is which. They switch it up every time, including one time all of them looking exactly like him with no other visual or auditory indications of differences.

Portal: The Holo Squad play Portal. That's it, that's the entire thing.

I Swear My Smart Devices Are Alive: A modern AU where the EHs are Cris's smart devices and Agnes is the cute IT Tech who comes over to fix them when their idiosyncrasies get on Cris's nerves enough.

Forgery: The Holos can mimic Cris's handwriting perfectly...

Collection: This one is actually post-Picard S1, or during. Elnor wants to learn about why people have... Stuff. Just, stuff, for no apparent purpose, that they seem very attached to (read: Cris and his mermaid statues). Steward tries his best to explain it to him and the Holos show Elnor their own collections and hobbies, and help him find hobbies of his own.

Diagnostics: Ian takes his duty as their equivalent of ""Doctor"" to his fellow Emergency Holograms very seriously, but in true Rios-fashion, neglects to take care of himself. This results in the actual EMH having to step in. @talvenhenki already did an absolutely wonderful fic based on this idea that I love in chapter 8 of Voyages of the Freighter La Sirena, but I might do a version of my own. Maybe it will take place not long before this one, when Emil (and possibly Agnes, as mentioned in that version above, so that's an idea) goes to Ian before Cris intervenes. Anyway, whether or not I ever actually write it, definitely go read that version!

Emergency Command Hologram: A theory I had pre-Stardust City Rag that started off as a joke and turned into "wait this would actually be fun if not in canon, at least as an AU" - I have subsequently decided that this is going to be a recurring nightmare of Rios's, that he finds out that the real him died and he's a holographic copy of himself as a modified ECH the holos have been using to fake still having a captain. That he actually died and the holos covered it up to avoid being deactivated permanently or changed by the ship's next owner. The cover up aspect, of course, goes "nicely" with Cris's trauma.

Steward and His Roombas: I really don't know where the original stuff is for this (the link to the post is broken now, I don't know where it went) but this was completely inspired by Stabby the Space Roomba about Steward and his ship cleaning bots and Emmet taping a knife to one of them like the infamous Stabby that inspired the wonderful, beautiful fic @procrastinatorproject wrote and gifted to me, A Night at the Opera. Please go read it if you haven't (and reread it if you have). And listen to the podfic version @thelaithlyworm is making, here. They're both wonderful!

Meta that aren't fic ideas but are interesting/important observations and/or headcanons:

An Exploration of Emmet's Tattoos: Pictures, identification of whatever I could identify, and discussion of all of Emmet's various tattoos that we have been able to see on screen so far.

Connection: The holograms in the Emergency Hologram Basic Installation Package are interconnected with each other and the ship in intricate ways. This post itself is mostly a meta on the holos instead of an actual plot bunny but there's definitely stuff that can be done with these concepts.

Emergency Hologram Basic Installation Package: I have character bios for each of the holograms on my carrd that also has some headcanons about the EHBIPs as well. Carrd Home Page; Emil; Enoch; Steward; Emmet; Ian.

Also, these ideas are open for other people to steal (I would love but it's not required to credit me and possibly any others who helped make these ideas, as shown on their original posts, since a lot of them were definitely a collaborative thing).

If you do use any of these ideas, feel free to reblog this with the link to it!!

[antihero-writings]

The Boy with the Unspeakable Name (Ch11)

Fandom: Harry Potter (and the Chamber or Secrets)

Fic Summary: Tom Riddle may have won his battle with Harry in the Chamber of Secrets, but there were a few unforeseen consequences; loss of Tom’s memory being the most obnoxious of them. Is it possible to stop Tom’s past from becoming his future? Or is the young Tom Riddle doomed to repeat his mistakes?

Notes: Alright everyone I'M BACK ...And I'm so so SO sorry that I took so long to update. Over the past few months I took my first real break from posting fanfiction overall in a long time.

Before I posted this chapter, I actually ended up heavily editing some of the previous chapters, which I'd like to inform those who read the originals about first. (Currently only the Ao3 version, and the reblog version of this fic with the picture on top are up-to-date.)

* I made Tom overall more polite. I was of the belief that his politeness was not an innate trait, and without memory, he would be a bit more unpleasant, and then we could see him grow with time. I do still believe it's not an innate personality trait, but a couple things made me realize he really should act differently in my fic. * I made Snape treat Tom better in the interrogation chapter. Both at the beginning and end. I liked the ending with the Levicorpus spell, and I do kinda miss it, especially because it informed Harry's reactions, but I think it was just too mean, especially because of something I'm going for later. * I added a conversation with the other boy in the hospital wing. (By the way, if you go back to read that and can think of more things they should talk about, don't hesitate to let me know!)

...I think those are all the big things! Feel free to offer feedback on the changes if you read them!

I'm so sorry to everyone who was hoping for faster updates. I truly do appreciate your comments and support deeply, and hope that you will continue to read and still enjoy it. I would still love to hear what you think!! <3 <3

Chapter 11: The House of Books

“The summer? With you? And Harry Potter?”

Tom had been examining the objects Snape had brought him—objects which had apparently once belonged to him—and blinked, raising his head to look at him.

“Believe me, I am not thrilled about it either.”

“No, it’s not that—well, it is—it’s just…” He paused, running his fingers along the clothes laid out on the bed before him, then squinted up at Snape. “I’m trying to discern why this is a good idea.”

Snape looked away, seemingly wondering that himself.

“I think, with time, you’ll find that our headmaster has a very unique sense of what is good for others. He believes uncomfortable situations often serve for people’s betterment.” He looked off to the side and muttered, “Whether or not they agree.”

“What sort of ‘betterment’ does this serve?”

“I suppose he would like the three of us to…”—He exhaled—“get along.”

Tom raised an eyebrow a second time, as if to say Us? Really?

“Futile though it may be,” Snape added.

Tom bit his lip, internally assessing the situation as he also returned to assessing the objects.

It wasn’t ideal—that didn’t need stating. Tom had a difficult time fathoming why Dumbledore—who seemed to bear him no ill-will—would want him to live with one person who had a rather insurmountable grudge against him, and another who didn’t seem to like him much better. He wanted them to ‘get along?’ `Surely that couldn’t be it. There had to be more to it.

Was Dumbledore really so naive as to think they’d grow closer instead of hate each other more? Not that he quite understood why they hated each other in the first place.

“Is there a reason I can’t stay here over the summer? I wouldn’t mind.”

Clearly Snape would have preferred that as well.

“You no doubt heard at the Feast that there has been some question as to whether Hogwarts is entirely safe. The Board of Governors likely wouldn’t approve of a student staying over the summer until they are able to deny these suspicions. Also, the headmaster wants you to learn magic over the summer, and due to few teachers possessing a proclivity to stay at Hogwarts during this time, we must make other arrangements.”

Tom’s breath bated at the reveal that he’d be learning magic, his mind beginning to buzz. He tried not to let his excitement leak into his voice:

“You’ll be teaching me magic?”

“Do keep up.”

“So…” He sat back. “What’s Harry going to do?”

“Mister Potter will be…taking up space as usual, I presume.”

Tom stifled a laugh; he hadn’t been expecting such a response from a professor.

“You don’t like Harry, do you?”

“I’m not…particularly fond of him.”

“Is it too forward of me to say it doesn’t appear you’re particularly fond of me either?”

“I pains me to say you’ll have adequate time to learn there aren’t a great many things I feel an extensive amount of fondness for.”

Tom could already see it now.

“Consider it a trial period, of sorts.” Snape swept around the room as he altered the direction of conversation. “If you are able to succeed over the summer, you may continue your schooling at Hogwarts when the next year begins. How much you learn, and how quickly, will determine the year in which you are placed. That is, if you’re placed in any year at all.” He looked down his hooked nose at him like that was both the most likely option, and the most preferable.

Tom could tell hidden behind his words was the idea that this ‘trial period’ was about more than just how adept he was at magic. He’d didn’t need telling that he’d have to be careful in more ways than magical.

“Do you have any other business to attend to before we leave?”

“Wait, we’re leaving now?”

“I don’t come to the hospital wing for pleasant chats if that’s what you’re asking.”

Tom bit his lip. In all honesty he would have liked to stay and explore the school more, but he could tell Snape wasn’t the kind of person one could negotiate such things with.

He turned back to the items that were supposed to be his.

“Is this really all I have?” He asked softly.

Sure all the essentials were there: clothes, books, toiletries and the like, but nothing more personal. No pictures for his nightstand, or even a keepsake to remind him of home, of family. Nothing that could tell him a little more about himself.

Snape paused a moment before he replied: “All of which I’m aware.”

Tom didn’t say anything. Merely put everything back in the trunk and followed Snape to the door.

“Don’t you have anything to bring home with you?” Tom asked.

“Don’t you think a skilled wizard such as myself would have methods of sending it to its proper location?”

They spent the walk across the grounds in silence, which could probably be considered steely, though Tom didn’t mind. The grounds around Hogwarts, and what little he saw of the castle, were altogether beautiful, and empty conversation would only have dulled his enjoyment. He turned around, walking backwards, a smile creeping upon his face upon at the sight of the castle in its full glory. He came to find this wasn’t a school, this was a palace, a haven.

A—

The word home rose to the surface of his chest.

It occurred to him this was the first time he’d smiled since he lost his memory. Really and truly smiled.

The feeling wasn’t half bad.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “You like it?”

Tom cleared his throat. “It’s nice I guess.” But he couldn’t stuff the smile down, couldn’t quite figure out what this feeling was.

He must be a student, surely. Otherwise, why would he feel such fondness for the place?

He didn’t think Snape would reply, and was surprised to hear, barely audible, “I always thought as much.”

They arrived at a wrought iron gate with winged boars on either side—(really living up to the name, Tom supposed. All they needed was a decent amount of warts on them). Once they had passed through it, Snape stopped abruptly and held out his arm. It seemed he was expecting Tom to take it.

Tom wasn’t quite sure why he ought to do this, (and was rather offput by the thought of touching this man). Still, he did as he was told and—

He felt like he was being pigeonholed through a pipe. When the journey ended he was in an entirely new location, and wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t feel sick.

"Apparating for the first time can often make one feel unwell,” Snape informed the doubled-over Tom in a way that didn’t signify he really cared.

As Tom regained his bearings, he thought for a moment, in the same way he quite liked the walk along the grounds, he probably would have rather enjoyed traveling across the countryside. It struck him, that, while this sort of travel certainly got the job done, if wizards had a type of travel more like flying; allowing one to see the view, but also get where they needed to go quickly, he would like to learn it.

The new location, however, was far drearier and less pleasing to the eyes. Rather than an enchanting (and probably enchanted) forest, bordering sunny grounds, and a castle whose majesty was unmatched (at least in his current memory), this was a grimy, cobbled street, like a dull pencil: grey, disappointing, and without its sharpness.

He was almost certain the place was non-magical in nature. He couldn’t believe anyone magical would allow their cities to collect this much grime and…boringness. Identical brick townhouses lined those streets, their chimneys spewing smoke into the air, causing a low cloud of what could be either smog or fog to hang over the place, making the air warmer and more humid than necessary. Snape’s house was the last in the row, (at least, he assumed it was Snape’s as it was the one they were heading towards), and across from it he could see a black river winding through the mist.

Snape flicked his wand, unlocking what was presumably his front door.

Often houses have a certain, indefinable smell to them, but when Tom stepped inside this one, he found it wasn’t so indefinable: parchment, and old shoes, and maybe a little bit of neglect.

He could have fooled himself into thinking he’d walked into a bookstore. The walls were lined with books, the sofa and armchair in the corner creating a false sense of coziness—(‘false’ because nothing about this man said ‘cozy’). It had the air of being one of those spaces that is cluttered, but to call it anything but ‘neat’ would be an insult. Like a library of a devout scholar: cluttered with knowledge, yet, despite the fact that the shelves are puking pages, it all seems somehow perfectly in place.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Snape said in a tone that told him he didn’t want him to be comfortable at all. “Take care not to touch anything that isn’t yours.”

Tom’s eyes lidded. “So…don’t touch anything at all?”

“You’re catching on.” Snape smirked.

Tom rolled his eyes, not entirely sure Snape was joking.

“I’ll show you to your room.”

The words ‘your room’ were clipped, like the thought that it would belong to him for even a summer was repulsive. Though Tom could tell that before they arrived.

He opened a small door in the wall, which Tom would have thought another room, or perhaps a closet, but turned out to be a set of stairs.

After journeying up them, a hallway whose wood was in dire need of staining, dusty portraits whose stern eyes followed him as he walked by, and a decorative table with an empty vase upon it, greeted him.

The advertised room was small, and a bit stuffy, and a few of the floorboards creaked, but something told him he’d slept in worse conditions before.

Though it was a small house, they were able to keep to themselves. Snape was busy resettling into his house, and disinclined to give him a tour, and Tom, not having much to get settled in the first place, spent the time exploring his new surroundings.

He wandered around the library that was the downstairs, and the dingy hallways that were the upstairs. He took care not to enter what he assumed to be Snape’s room, as well as a few other locked rooms. He didn’t want to get on his bad side…if he even had a good side.

He quickly found he didn’t mind being around books. He had affinity for them, especially when their contents had to do with magic.

“Are these all about magic?” He asked Snape when he passed by.

“Some of them. It may surprise you to find most of them aren’t.”

“May I read them?” He asked, remembering Snape’s warning not to touch anything, as well as the fact that this was a ‘trial period.’

“If you cannot find ways to entertain yourself.”

“I’m sure I can. But you seem like the kind of man who appreciates silence.” He put his hands behind his back and smiled too pleasantly.

Snape pursed his lip.

They spent their time regarding each other as wolves encroaching on each others territories: they weren’t happy to be sharing the same space, but they couldn’t do anything but growl low until one of them made a move.

Later, when Snape made dinner, the action drew his attention from his book. Tom watched with fascination as Snape waved his wand with ease, and the ingredients floated and melded together of their own accord, like Snape’s wand knew what to say to them.

“Will I be able to do that?”

“A whole world of magic and you want to be able to make dinner?”

“Well—” Annoyance flared in Tom. “Of course I’d prefer to know much more exciting, dangerous things…but yes”

“Children are not allowed to use magic outside of school until they come of age…but, yes.”

The word ‘children’ in that condescending tone didn’t make him feel less annoyed.

“How come I’m able to do it, then? You’re able to teach me during the summer.”

“Dumbledore has his ways.”

Tom could tell he wouldn’t get any more information than that.

While they ate, Tom chanced a few more questions, and was surprised to find that it tasted quite good, and he thought he remembered someone once telling him good food does wonders for the soul.

He was glad to find that, despite Snape’s obvious distaste for him, and seemingly all things his age, he was cordial enough, and he certainly didn’t mind keeping to himself.

Tom was just thinking about asking when he’d start learning magic that evening, when a stack of books almost as tall as him landed on the table.

Flicking his eyes across the titles, he saw that each and every one of them something to do with magic.

“I expect you to have these read before before Potter arrives. Only then will I start teaching you magic.”

Tom leaned to the side to look at Snape and tried not to smirk.

“You sure this is everything? It doesn’t seem like quite enough.”

[foxtophat]

i dont have much to say about this one!!! it’s just a story about carmina’s tenth birthday, and how the town of fall’s end is coping a decade after the collapse.  uhhh there are some random children in it?  bean is there! and of course john shows up, too, because that’s KIND OF THE POINT of mercyverse lol

technically there’s a story that comes before this, but i don’t have the vibe yet for it so i haven’t worked on it in a while. instead, i’ll probably just keep moving forward and throw up that one if the rest of the plot becomes at all relevant to the real main storyline.  uhhh the next one will take place in the spring of 2029 and we’re going to start getting into some fun stuff that i’ve planned out for a while!!!

until then, uh, the usual: love you, please like/share/reblog/kudos/comment, whatever you feel good about doing, because i sure do love to share my universe with other people!  hope you’re doing well and hopefully i’ll see you with another fic in a few weeks!

also as usual: the story text is below the cut for those of you who wanna stay on tumblr :)

It's Carmina's tenth birthday, and there's a party in town. The two things aren't exactly related, sure, but Carmina's used to sharing her birthday with the Collapse, and she's not about to turn down a bunch of free food. How can she not go to a real Hope County barbecue after her parents had hyped the experience up so much in the bunker? She'd hoped that her ninth birthday would have gotten a similar treatment, but the town just didn't have the food or people for it at the time. Her parents had told her that next year would be better; Carmina does her best to keep her imagination from blowing the whole thing out of proportion.

They leave a little bit after breakfast. Since John is coming along, mom has no excuse not to let Carmina ride in the back with him. He's not excited to be heading into town, but then again, the town isn't usually excited to see him, either. And considering what day it is, they're likely to be extra rude to him. Carmina doesn't get it, honestly, but she's just glad that she can ride in back without her mom grabbing onto her at every pothole and bump in the road.

The first surprise of the day comes as her dad parks just past the church, giving her a chance to stand up and look out over the town. She hasn't been here in a while, and so she's surprised to see that they've cleared out a lot of the dirt lot behind the usable buildings — and there are a lot of people hanging out there. Carmina's never seen so many people at once — she loses count around twenty and can easily guess double that. It's enough to rattle her nerves for just a second, before she catches the looks on her mom and dads' faces and realizes that this is probably a good thing. Sure, John looks like he wants to hop back in the truck and go home, but he always looks like that around strangers. Her parents, on the other hand, actually seem happy for once, and that's what matters to Carmina.

The second surprise is just how many of the adults seem to know her. Her parents move slowly through the mingling crowd, usually coming up with names for faces before Carmina's even looked at the strangers who call her by name. She gets lots of comments like, "I remember when your parents were expecting you!" and "I was wondering how the Rye's little girl turned out!" and even a few, "Glad to see you made it," comments that make her parents side-eye each other pretty fiercely. She doesn't need to introduce herself to anyone, not even people who her parents don't know so well — it's like everybody's always known her, and her family. It's kind of cool — but also kind of weird. Pastor Jerome always said that their family was a pillar in the community, but this is first-person evidence, right here in front of her.

Plenty of the adults wish her a happy birthday, too, but she knows their hearts aren't in it. It's one of the big drawbacks to sharing her birthday with the end of the world — nobody asks how old she is, nobody wants to know what she did on previous birthdays, and all of them have to make some kind of depressing comment. Like trying to get her to relate to birthdays before the Collapse: all they want to do is tell her about all the things she could be doing, or would be doing, if only the world hadn't ended. They want to share their birthdays from the past, but Carmina's never been to the movies, she doesn't know who Disney is, and she has no idea why they'd need a cake and candles for it all. Somebody tells her she should be graduating to the fourth grade, and she just stares back because what even is the fourth grade? What does that mean?

They mean well, so Carmina does her best not to upset anybody, but she knows that nobody appreciates how little she cares about life before the Collapse.

At least there are other kids in town today. Her mom had been telling her about some of them — kids who don't have families, who the town looks after — but Carmina's only ever met one of them, and that had been only for a few minutes. But Carmina can see them hanging out in the field, and as soon as her mom lets her, she heads right out to them. It's about time that she met people her age — she's getting tired of only ever talking to old people.

Of course, meeting strangers is still difficult for her, but she's saved from too much embarrassment as she recognizes the chicken brothers hanging out in the small group. She can't remember which one is Tom and which one is Matt, but they seemed really nice when they helped her pick out her chickens. She also recognizes the oldest boy in the group, although she can't remember his name at all. She's never seen the others before — two teenage girls, another boy her age, and a kid a couple years younger than her — but hopefully she won't make a total fool of herself.

"Hi," she says as she approaches, waving.

"Hey, Carmina," Matt-or-Tom says, stepping aside to make room for her in their makeshift circle. "I thought we would see you today."

"Yep," Carmina smiles, "Here I am!" She sees the teenagers' curious looks and tells them with little fanfare, "Today's my birthday."

"Oh," the oldest boy says. "That sucks."

One of the girls elbows him. "Don't be mean," she says.

"No, he's right," Carmina says. "It does suck."

"Well, happy birthday anyway. How old are you now?"

"Ten."

"Wow," the girl says. She looks at the boy, then back to Carmina, and says sympathetically, "You weren't kidding. That's rough."

Giggling with relief, Carmina waves once more. "It's okay. My name's Carmina, by the way. It's nice to meet you."

Being polite works like a charm, and the oldest boy is quick to go around with introductions. "Well, I'm Jason — this is Caroline, and this is Flower. The little kid there —"

"Hey!"

"— Is Bean, and... Sorry, man, what did you say your name was again?"

The other ten-year-old looking boy frowns and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. "Luke," he says.

"Okay, Luke. And you know Tom and Matt."

"We were talking about the bison out in the field," Tom-or-Matt says. He points in the direction of home and asks, "Did you guys see the big one when you were coming into town?"

"The one that's all white?" Carmina asks, "With the big scar over its hump? We see that one all the time when we come out this way —"

"No, no," the other brother says, "Jason says there's a bigger one."

"I told you guys," Jason says, "I only saw it once, and it was late at night while I was up in the crow's nest. I don't think it comes out during the day."

Carmina frowns. "What big one? What do you mean?"

"Oh, boy," Caroline sighs, "Don't listen to him, Carmina, he's full of shit."

"Hey, language," Flower laughs.

"Look, I was pretty far away, but I had the sniper rifle and I wasn't sleeping on the job. Uh, so..." He points out over the field, towards a squat set of huts surrounding a tall, busted silo that's still standing. The view from up there must be great. "Jerome has me sit up in that tower sometimes, you know, to practice. So I was up there, looking around, and it was probably midnight or so... and I just see this glow out in the field. I think it's a fire, right? Maybe somebody made a camp out there on their way to town or something. So I look out through the scope — and it was a bison."

"A glowing bison?" Carmina asks skeptically.

"Yeah. Like, a monster bison. It was all dark and scaly looking, except for the way its belly glowed. I thought about shooting it, but..."

Caroline laughs. "He got scared. Or it wasn't real, and he's making it all up."

"I wasn't scared, and I'm not making it up! It's not like it could've hurt me up in the nest. It... just didn't feel right. You know, it was just grazing with the rest of the herd. And it moved off over the hill before I could change my mind or call anybody up to confirm it."

"Sure, Jason."

"I'm serious," Jason insists, "I really saw it, okay? I told Jerome about it and everything." He frowns at the dirt. "He said it might've been mutated after the bombs. Then he told me not to go looking for it."

"He's right," Flower says. "Even regular bison are pretty dangerous." She smiles. "That's why I like deer — they won't hurt you. If you sit really still, sometimes they'll even come up and lick your face."

"Oh," Carmina says. "I usually just shoot them. They eat all our vegetables otherwise."

"Yeah," Flower sighs, "Sometimes I do, too. But they're also nice to watch."

Tom-or-Matt looks to his brother. "I wonder if that's what we see outside at night?"

"What, deer?"

"No, dumbass." He turns to the group and explains, "Sometimes, when it's real late and I gotta use the bathroom, I'll see something glowing out in the woods. Dad's cut back a lot of space so it never gets very close, but... maybe it's another mutated animal."

"At least you'll see it coming when it tries to attack you," Carmina suggests.

"Gee, thanks."

Carmina knows he's probably teasing, but she still feels guilty for being so blunt about it. The least she can do is try to reassure him. "Well... most animals don't attack near houses, I don't think. When we first came out of the bunker, there were wild dogs and wolves that would watch us, and my dad was real worried about them — but now they mostly stay away from the property. I think it's because of the fence. You guys have a fence, right?"

"Yeah, plus a butt-load of chickens that freak out over anything out of the ordinary." Matt-or-Tom grins at her and asks, "Don't they wake you up with every little thing?"

Carmina briefly considers mentioning John being attacked, then decides against it. She also doesn't want to tell them that the chickens live mostly indoors at night now — the last thing she wants to do is kick off a whole big thing about the cult on her dang birthday! It's already hard enough pretending to care about them around her parents; she's not sure she could even force herself to bother here. And if she's not careful, the kids in town might start to think about her and her family the same way all the adults do.

"They're pretty docile, actually," she says, "And we only really see deer around our place... It's not like they eat chickens."

"Well.... maybe there's a mutant deer out there that wants to eat you," Tom-or-Matt teases.

Carmina rolls her eyes. "I'll shoot it before it gets past the hangar," she replies.

Of course, her dismissive confidence leads to a sprawling discussion on who might be the best shot out of the group. Carmina does her best to defend her skills, considering she can't prove any of it right now, but all three teens insist they're dead-eyes, and even Bean says he's "getting pretty good at the aiming part." On top of that, the kids from the town have gotten pointers from Aunt Grace herself, which means they might actually be better shots than Carmina expects.

"Maybe we should have a competition," Caroline suggests. "I bet Pastor Jerome and Aunt Grace would be okay with it."

"Sure," Jason laughs, "But you know they'd make us spend forty minutes disassembling and cleaning our rifles before and after. Like I don't know what I'm doing — I'm almost fifteen!"

"Have you guys been to Aunt Grace's?" Carmina asks. "She has a shooting range there."

"Maybe she'd let us use it!"

"I've never been to a real shooting range," Bean says.

"It's not a real shooting range," Jason points out, "Those all got blown up. Do you even know how to use a gun, Bean?"

"I just said I do! My dad taught me! I... just don't like the loud noises it makes."

Matt-or-Tom boasts, "We learned to shoot in our bunker. Mom collected Airsoft guns — they don't use bullets, so they can't kill you."

"What's the point of that?"

"I dunno, I guess practicing underground?"

Tom-or-Matt laughs. "Dad was convinced the Peggies were gonna get us, so he wanted us to know how to shoot."

The quiet kid, Luke, finally speaks up. "Lucky," he mutters, "Easier to learn underground, I bet."

"What about you?" Carmina asks. She tries not to cringe away when he stares back at her like he didn't expect anyone to hear him. Maybe he doesn't like people talking to him? "Um... my mom and dad had a bunch of gun magazines in the bunker, but I never got to shoot a real gun until we came outside. Mom and Aunt Grace have been teaching me, though, and I'm way better than my dad is."

Luke hesitates. "Kind of the same. We came up early, though. Had to."

"Me, too," Jason replies. "It was just me and my brother. I was five when we got stuck in the bunker — we went through our supplies in about three years, so we had to come back up."

"We... only stayed down until I could walk," Luke admits. "It was still really cold when we came up. And mom got real sick for a while."

"Yikes," Bean says, "That sucks!"

"Come on, bean," Jason snaps, "You don't say that."

"You just said it to her!" Bean shouts, pointing at Carmina.

"He's... right," Luke mumbles. "It sucked. It... still sucks. But things are getting better now." He looks up at them, then drops his eyes back to the dirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Carmina insists, "I asked first!"

"That's kind of the mood today," Caroline adds. "Don't worry. We can talk about something else."

The change in topic comes abruptly as Bean points towards the Church and asks, "Who is that with Pastor Jerome?"

Carmina doesn't need to look, but since the rest of the group does, she might as well too. John has his hat pulled low over his eyes, as usual, which makes him look suspicious, as usual. Knowing him, he probably didn't even leave the truck — just waited there for Jerome to come talk to him.

She can only hope that Tom and Matt keep their mouths shut since they're the only other kids who know what John looks like nowadays. Unfortunately for her, that hope is pretty quickly dashed.

"Oh," Matt-or-Tom says, like a jerk, "That's John, I think. Right, Carmina?"

"Wait," Jason says, "You're that Carmina?"

Carmina ducks her head. "Um... it depends, I guess?"

Flower, looking too sympathetic for Carmina's liking, tries to mediate. "He just means, well... Jerome talks about you sometimes."

"And he talks about that guy," Jason adds, pointing without any subtlety at all.

"Everyone talks about that guy," Caroline says with a sigh. She gives Carmina a sympathetic shrug as she does, as though she wishes she could stop the conversation from happening, too. That only makes Carmina worried that this isn't the first time the teenagers have sat around gossiping about John and the crazy people who decided to take him in.

"Wait," Bean gasps, way too loudly, "That's John Seed?"

"Oh my God," Matt-or-Tom sighs, "You gotta keep up with the conversation."

"Wait, what's he doing here? Why's he going into the church? I thought he wasn't supposed to come to town? I thought he was locked up!"

Carmina groans. "It's my birthday," she whines, "I don't wanna talk about John today!"

"We don't have to," Caroline says. "Guys, come on."

"I mean, he did kill a lot of people. Isn't he, like, a psychopath? Isn't it weird to live with a murderer?"

"Jason!"

Luke mutters, "I heard he used to cut off people's skin."

"That's true," Jason replies, "My brother has a huge scar from when it happened to him. Boy, I hope he doesn't see that jackass is here..."

Matt-or-Tom finally seems to realize what he's started, frowning as the conversation spirals crazily out of control. It's too late to stop it, though, and so he shuffles his feet and looks apologetically towards Carmina.

Fine. If she can't get around the subject, she's just going to have to tackle it head-on. Even if that sounds really scary. She doesn't think that these guys are going to flip out like the caravan last year did, but she's still a little worried that she might be in for a fight if she says the wrong thing about John.

"I know John used to be a bad guy," she says. "Like, really bad. My dad's got one of those scars, too. But he's not like that any more. All he does nowadays is help my parents with chores and stuff. And he's just like everybody else — he doesn't talk about what happened before the Collapse to me or anybody. So I really don't know anything more than you guys.

She probably knows less than them, honestly, but she's not about to say so and get a brutal lesson in everything John's ever done wrong.

"So he's just... different, now?" Jason asks, frowning unhappily at the church.

"I guess so," Carmina replies with a shrug. She looks over to make sure that John and Jerome are inside, just in case. "He's not... scary, or mean, or anything like that. Just quiet. Kind of... lonely, I guess. Ever since he found out his brother is alive but still crazy, he's been really beat up about it." He's also been literally beaten up over it, but now's not the time to try and make the others feel sorry for him. John would probably be irritated at the idea of a bunch of kids pitying him.

Matt-or-Tom is quick to help her out, which is nice. "She's right," he says. "The Father is still out there in the woods with all those crazies, but John's repented. Dad said he made amends with God, whatever that means. He... uh, still doesn't like us being around him, but when we helped him load the chickens in he seemed okay. Just real quiet."

"That's John, alright," Carmina sighs.

Bean looks seriously disappointed by the news. "You mean he doesn't talk about it at all?" he asks.

"No," Carmina says, snapping for good measure, "And he gets really upset when you ask about it, so don't."

"I'm not gonna go talk to him!" Bean gasps.

The idea that a kid might be scared of John is pretty funny, considering how uncomfortable he is around her, but Carmina's not about to say as much. John probably wouldn't like her sharing a weakness like that with a bunch of strangers, and she wouldn't want them using it against him later.

Flower slowly lifts her hand, looking embarrassed. "Some of the adults in town say the Bliss messed him up. Is that... true?"

Well, at least she's trying to be nice about it. "I dunno," Carmina admits. "He was super weird when he first started living with us, but that might've just been because he was stuck in his bunker for so long."

"Oh, that happened to a guy my dad knows!" Bean supplies helpfully. "Dad calls it bunker shock. Says living underground too long is bad for you when you're all alone!"

"Glad I didn't live in one long enough for that," Luke says. When everyone looks at him, he clams up for a second before continuing on. "A neighbor came up just this year. He's... real weird. I don't like him much. He still sleeps underground, hoping he'll wake up and it'll all be a dream." He scuffs his boot against the dirt, sniffing loudly. "That's what my mom says, anyway. I try not to be around when he comes by."

"He wouldn't be the first adult to be like that," Jason says. He gives the church one last look before nodding his head towards the party. "I mean, that's why we're all the way out here, instead of hanging out around the food. Right?"

"No," Bean replies, "I'm out here 'cos I can't eat another bite! I didn't know you could be this full."

Caroline laughs. "Yeah, the adults have been stockpiling for weeks, it looks like... I guess everyone was really looking forward to it — or, well, I guess that's what it is."

Flower gazes over at the gaggle of adults. Carmina recognizes her dreamy smile from the way her mom looks around the house sometimes, like she's getting a new, better look at the place.

"It feels like things are starting to look up," she says. "Maybe they can all be happier now."

"Hey, don't jinx it!" Tom-or-Matt laughs.

Bean looks around at the rest of them and for a second, Carmina is worried he's going to ask more about John and restart the whole ugly conversation. Thankfully, it looks like he's still a baby, so he's quickly distracted.

"So, what do we do now?" he asks, pushing his too-big glasses up his nose.

Carmina has never actually played with other kids before, so she doesn't have any good suggestions — especially when shooting is off-limits. Thankfully, she isn't the only one. The teenagers don't know where their soccer ball went, and Luke says he doesn't even know what soccer is. Bean says he usually plays word games by himself. When Tom-or-Matt suggests they play something called "capture the flag," it manages to make its way to the top of the list just because Jason and Caroline have both heard of it before.

Well, at least something is better than nothing. The older kids explain how capture the flag works, using Jason's shirt for their team's flag while the other kids band together around Matt-or-Tom's sweaty tank top. Carmina imagines that one of them should sit out for even teams, but the older kids seem confident that they can handle it. Too confident, in Carmina's opinion — maybe they need to be brought down a peg.

Capture the flag turns out to be more fun than Carmina had expected — and a lot harder, too. Trying to outmaneuver the older kids is tough work, but she and Tom-or-Matt figure out how to flank them pretty quick. There's nothing better than the moment when Carmina manages to dive out of the way when Jason tries to tackle her, and even if she gets dog-piled by Flower halfway back to Bean at home base, she holds Jason's shirt up for another teammate to take.

Unfortunately, the game ends without a winner as a sharp whistle pierces the air. Bean looks up and shouts, "That's my dad! I better go!"

He runs off at full tilt without so much as a goodbye, and Carmina has to squint against the setting sun to watch him go. She hadn't realized how late it had gotten.

"I should probably get going, too," Luke says, sweaty and almost smiling for once. "I want to get another plate of food before we go home."

"Ugh," Carmina sighs, "And the chickens need feeding."

"Just make John do it," Matt-or-Tom says, apparently not learning his lesson about mentioning John.

"It's supposed to be my job," she says. "And anyway, he already feeds them in the morning when I don't get up in time."

"They're gonna like him more than you," Tom-or-Matt laughs.

Jason frowns. "He feeds your chickens?"

"I mean... yeah. He does whatever we need him to." Carmina shrugs, glancing back towards the church. She hasn't seen Jerome or John leave — maybe she should go see them before she rounds up her parents? Nah, it's better to leave them alone until the very last minute.

"Just... didn't think you'd let him near livestock, that's all."

"What's he gonna do, poison the eggs?" Carmina huffs. "He's good with them. I think he likes them 'cos they aren't judgey."

Caroline frowns, which tells Carmina she might've been a little rude. But Jason's been rude about John all day, so she's not going to feel sorry about it!

"Well, I guess if your parents trust him..."

"Sure they do," Carmina replies, even if that's not... exactly right. She knows her parents trust John enough to help around the house, but she thinks they only want to trust him with all the other stuff.

"I really better go," she says, pointing towards town.

"Sure," Flower says. "It was nice to meet you, Carmina."

Carmina gives them her best grin, relieved when it's returned from the others. Jason even waves like there's no hard feelings. "It was nice meeting you guys," she says.

"Happy birthday again!" Matt-or-Tom says, "And be careful!"

"Yeah," his brother laughs, "Wouldn't want to have a glowing deer attack you in the outhouse tonight!"

Carmina laughs away the dumb attempt to scare her, waving goodbye before turning to head for the party. Halfway there, she glances over her shoulder and sees the group turned back to one-another in conversation. None of them are looking back, but as she continues on, she's chased by an unfamiliar sense of discomfort. She can't help but wonder if they're still talking about John in the church.... If they're talking about her.

At least she can distract herself while looking for her parents. There are plenty of adults who say hello; some of them even point her helpfully towards her mom's last known location, or towards the table with the cookies her dad really liked. Some of them check in to make sure her birthday has been going well, too, which is nice of them, but a lot of adults are pretty drunk and deep in their own conversations.

She eventually finds her mom and dad standing around a grill with Marjorie, one of the adults in charge around town. Carmina's met her a couple of times. She's nice, but she can talk a lot. There's no telling how long they've been talking for, and if Carmina doesn't interrupt, who knows when they'll finish. While she could probably grab some food for the road, first she has to make sure that they're actually going to be leaving sometime before the next Collapse.

Besides, it looks like her dad's already got a box of leftovers in his hands. If Carmina wants to eat, she's going to have to interrupt.

"Hey dad," she says as she comes up to them, "The chickens are going to need dinner soon."

Her dad grins at her before handing over the squat, open cardboard box. There's chicken, ribs, corn and roasted potatoes, and even a handful of cookies and flatbread; it takes everything in Carmina's power not to make a desperate grab for more food. She doesn't have to worry about going hungry tonight, so there's no need to eat everything put in front of her.

"Here," he tells her, "You take this, alright? My arms are gettin' tired."

Yeah, right. As soon as she takes the box, he uses one of those tired arms to grab one of the ribs. When Carmina frowns suspiciously at him, her dad only shrugs.

"I coughed on it."

"Uh-huh..."

Laughing, her mom reaches out to give Marjorie a hug. It might've run a little long, but her mom obviously enjoyed the talk. "We'll be back in a week or two with the tractor parts," she says. "You're going to get the fields back in shape in no time."

"Already got a good start," Marjorie replies. She shoots Carmina a warm smile. "Happy birthday, by the way! Don't think I got to see you much. Hope those kids weren't giving you a hard time."

"No," Carmina replies., "They're all really nice. We want to practice shooting together, maybe have a contest. Jason said he's better than anybody else."

"I bet you're gonna give him a run for his money!" Marjorie laughs. "Well, the better a shot you are, the better off you'll be. You won't see anybody here stop you kids."

"Yeah, but tonight, I have to feed the chickens," Carmina says, just in case her parents need another chance to get out of here.

"We've got a few other people to say goodbye to," her mom tells her. "Why don't you take the food back to the truck? We'll meet you there."

"Should I get John, too?"

As soon as she asks, Carmina decides she probably shouldn't have brought it up. Too late, though; by the look on Marjorie's face, there's no way to pretend she didn't hear it.

Her dad shrugs. "Probably oughta," he tells her, as if he doesn't see Marjorie staring at them like she is.

Marjorie definitely doesn't like that, judging by the way she squints, but she doesn't say anything about it. "Well, I hope you had a decent enough birthday for once," she says, "Hopefully we'll be having a party around this time every year from now on."

"That would be nice," mom says.

"Just you wait, we're gonna turn this ship around one way or another." Marjorie gestures with her hands and says, "Alright, you better go, before those chickens of yours eat each other."

Carmina frowns. "They don't do that, do they?"

"Uh, let's get moving," her dad says. "See you soon, Marg."

"Take care!"

Her mom and dad have to stop a few more times to say goodbye to people Carmina doesn't know, but she pushes on without them and nobody stops her for more than a quick birthday greeting. She catches sight of Luke packing up some food with his parents, but he's too distracted to notice her. At least she isn't the only one carrying a box of leftovers out of here; it would feel selfish of her if they weren't sending leftovers home with other people.

Her parents haven't caught up with her by the time she reaches the truck, and John is nowhere to be seen. She figures he's probably still in the church — he and Pastor Jerome always take forever when they're talking. They'll probably be there until dad goes in and breaks them up.

Eating by herself in the back of the truck doesn't feel right, especially not within walking distance of the church. Leaving the food tucked in the corner by the cab, Carmina heads for the building herself. Even if nobody was in there, she'd probably go wander inside for a few minutes; it's a comforting, quiet place in the dry, dusty town. But right now, she's pretty sure John is hanging around inside, and he probably hasn't eaten anything all day, either. She should at least let him have first pick.

She knows a lot of the adults dislike the church, but Carmina personally enjoys how its sun-bleached siding stands out against the sky. Besides the house, the church is one of the few places Carmina wishes she could have seen in one piece. She's seen old, faded pictures from ancient newspaper clippings, but it's just not the same.

The doors are open wide enough for Carmina to slip in without a sound. The air inside is cool, almost chilly, and it smells like dirt and grass. From the entrance, there's only a narrow gap keeping Jerome and John out of sight. She doesn't mean to hide, but she doesn't want to interrupt Jerome mid-sentence...

It's too late, she's eavesdropping.

"It might not be much, but it's something," Jerome's saying. "He even stayed a few nights, when the wind got bad and brought too much pollen over the river."

"It would be better for everyone if he stayed here permanently," John replies. "Wallace went further down the path than the rest of them, and they clearly don't know what they're doing."

"They're trying, John. And we don't have a say in the matter. It's got to be his choice. Remember?"

John grunts, clearly annoyed. Carmina doesn't think she's ever heard him say so much before. Does he talk to her mom and dad this much? Is he really only quiet around her?

"I don't like it," John says.

"For what it's worth, neither do I. But Sharky's taking things seriously — they all are. You're going to have to trust them."

"Trust isn't exactly one of my virtues," John grumpily admits.

Jerome chuckles. "You just need practice."

Well, Carmina definitely feels guilty now. She had only been waiting for an opening, but if she waits any longer, she's really going to be breaking John's trust. Pastor Jerome's, too, for that matter.

Thinking on her toes, Carmina pushes on the already open door as though she's just showing up. Of course, the hinges squeal in protest as soon as she does, so she stops before she breaks something.

"Are you guys still in here?" she calls. She's pretty convincing about it, in her opinion.

"Yes, Carmina," Jerome responds, apparently none-the-wiser, "We're here."

John regards her neutrally as she steps into view, but he's always wearing his poker face around her. She needs to get better at reading it.

"I guess it's time to go, then," he says.

"Yeah. Um — I mean, I can meet you back at the truck. Mom and dad will be here soon..."

Jerome speaks up before John can get the chance. "No, you two go on. I think we were just about done ourselves, and I'd like to sit here for a little while, before it gets too dark." He and John shake hands, and then he comes over to give Carmina a hug. "Happy birthday," he tells her. "You be good for another year, alright?"

"I'll try," she says.

"That'a girl," Jerome laughs. "Keep an eye on her, John."

Sometimes, it seems like Jerome is the only adult in Hope County that doesn't think John is a bad influence on her. Even her mom and dad, who are basically the only people on John's side, get uncomfortable if she tries to talk to him too much. But Jerome is a special case. He used to be weird about anything John-related, but nowadays? Honestly, Carmina's pretty sure he's John's only friend at this point — well, okay, other than mom and dad, but they don't count.

John waits until they've left the church to speak. He's chilly and dismissive, as usual.

"How long were you listening for?"

"I wasn't," Carmina begins — but she can't lie to him. Lying only ever makes things worse. So she corrects herself reluctantly and admits, "It was only a minute. I didn't mean to... it just sort of happened."

"Hm."

Normally, Carmina can't get a read on John's poker face, but... huh. She can't help but feel like she might've... hurt his feelings? She definitely wasn't being trustworthy, that's for sure. And now he's trying to casually out-pace her on the walk back to the truck.

"I'm sorry for eavesdropping," she says, picking up her pace to match his. "I promise, I won't do it again."

John glares at her, but she's pretty sure he's not angry. Maybe just confused? She's not sure, he's never looked at her longer than two seconds before.

"I... appreciate it," he replies instead, which makes it the first time he's ever accepted an apology of hers. Usually, he just tells her not to worry about it.

Carmina grins at him, but he's already looked away, so of course he doesn't see it. Instead, he looks to the field, where the three teens from town are still hanging out. Carmina can't tell if they're looking this way or not. She sure hopes they aren't; John would know immediately that they gossiped about him, and she's already messed up with him once today.

"Have you ever played capture the flag?" she asks, hoping to distract him. "The chicken brothers taught us the rules but I think they maybe made some of it up."

John cracks a small smile. Well, Carmina will pretend it's one, anyway.

"The chicken brothers," he repeats.

"You know, Tommy and Matt."

"Do they know that's what you call them?"

"I mean, I've never said it to their faces..."

"That's probably smart."

They reach the truck, which marks the invisible barrier that keeps John out of town. Of course, mom and dad still aren't here. If Carmina climbed up on top of the truck, she might be able to spot them, but it's not like she could get their attention from this far away. So, she's going to have to kill time until they get back.

"Did you eat?" she asks, climbing up into the truck bed.

"I'm fine, Carmina," John replies, a little wearily. Like she's not the first person to bug him about it today — or, maybe like he lacks energy from not eating all day.

She rolls her eyes, but John doesn't see. "Uh-huh." She sits down, pulling the box of food into her lap as she leans back against the cab. "Dad was surprised that there were cookies. Um, not exactly the same, I guess? But still really good." She's not going to give him a chance to turn it down, grabbing one and shoving it in his direction. "Here, try one!"

John, leaning against the side of the truck like he is, is clearly more interested in looking for her parents than humoring her. He definitely looks like he wants to say no. But to her surprise, he actually takes the offered food. It would be weird to stare at him while he eats, so she goes back to debating between a chicken leg or one of the last ribs in the box.

"Not bad," John comments, which is like, crazy, because Carmina definitely isn't goading him into talking.

"They're kind of crumbly," Carmina says, "I dunno if that's what it's supposed to be like. But all the food is really good." She counts the chicken legs out again, just to make sure there's one for each of them. "Um... hey, John? Uh... do chickens eat each other?"

John frowns, chewing the question over with the rest of the cookie. He swallows, then says, "Most animals cannibalize their own if they're desperate enough."

"Oh."

"They would need to be left alone for a lot longer than a few hours," he points out. "Or they would have to be sick. It's more likely a dog will get them before they turn on each other."

Well, at least Carmina can trust John to tell her the truth, even if it's probably not the way her parents would want him to do it. She doesn't even mind him being so blunt about it, either; she's just surprised he's willing to talk to her. She can't help but wonder if this is going to be a normal thing, now that she's ten — is he going to stop being so weird around her? Or is this just a special treat, because of the day? She sure hopes not. It'd be a lot less awkward if John didn't act so scared of her all the time.

Her parents finally join them at the truck. Her mom wrinkles her nose at Carmina sitting in the back again, but she doesn't say anything. Her dad doesn't seem to mind; once he spots the box in Carmina's lap, he reaches over to grab one of the shortbread cookies for himself.

"Sorry about that," he says, "We got held up a couple times. John, you try one of these yet?"

"I did."

"Crazy having home-baked goods again, right?" Her dad waggles the cookie in John's face; John rolls his eyes and circles back around to the tailgate, climbing up into the bed. "Here, Carmina, give me that box so the food doesn't get too cold on the way home."

"You're just gonna eat everything," Carmina objects, handing over the box anyway.

"Nah, come on. Here, you guys grab something for the ride home." He nudges Carmina's shoulder with the box. "You probably worked up an appetite bullying all the older kids out there — and I bet you didn't eat much of anything, either," he adds in John's direction.

"I had a cookie, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I'll bet nobody forced you into it, either."

Carmina grins as her dad winks at her. Her mom rolls her eyes, but doesn't keep dad from bullying John a little. "Grab something so we can get going," she tells John, "And make sure she doesn't stand up once we're in drive."

John reluctantly takes a towel-wrapped ear of corn and a single rib, while Carmina goes right for that piece of chicken she'd been eying from the start. That helps her make peace with sitting safely, at least this one time. Next year, she's definitely going to get to ride in back by herself, she can feel it, and she is going to do it standing up!

As Carmina watches the town shrink behind them, she congratulates herself on another successful birthday. It'd been better than she'd expected — she was a little uncomfortable around so many people at first, but now she's pretty sure she can say she's made some friends? And seeing the town full of food and laughter and music... It had been sort of what Carmina imagines Fall's End used to be like. Her parents probably wouldn't agree, but maybe that's okay. Maybe when she's older, she can try and prove to them that things can be just as good as they used to be — even if it's a different kind of good.