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scrollonso · 3 days

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Hi I’d actually LOVE to hear more about the way you view Strollonso dynamic because a) the way you write about them makes ME feel insane and b) I am also attempting to write fic of these two and require all the references I can so I can feel at least marginally confident dipping my toes in rpf

Anyway keep being amazing and being awesome with your writings!! I hope we can all survive our parasocial relationship with this 20something rich white boy!!!

i have SO MUCH to say.

okay lets start off with their different instagram useage. lance hardly ever posts (averaging like 1 post a month) but nando on the other hand... (like 4 posts a week) so with this difference we get fernando mentioning and talking about and posting and praising lance and its so sweet because hes not doing it for lance to see hes doing it because he MEANS it.

then the fact that theyre so touchy for literally no reason and this isnt even new in 2017 (i believe) fernando was touching all up on lance after he got a podium and now that theyre teammates theres always some kind of contact going on (nando grabbing lances neck, arm, hands, hugging, etc.)

and yk i cant NOT mention the "happy you are not in alpine?" video because HELLO. the way lance walks over and grabs him straight away with a "yes, man" then when nando realizes its lance his whole face lights up. UGH. then when they hugged they were so close, lances lips practically against fernandos skin as he spoke like god get a rooommmmm... AND NANDOS HAND ON LANCES FACE? like he full on cupped lances cheek and the eye contact and smiles?? u dont do all this with a teammate u dont want to fuck.

then when nando won "overtake of the month" and told the woman interviewing him that he didnt vote for himself but for "this guy" (lance) like in what world are you VOTING for your TEAMMATE who in most cases is your biggest competition??

and back to their hugs, any time they hug its never a half assed side hug its always both arms tightly around eachother smiling talking chests pressed together like U DONT HUG JUST ANYONE THAT CLOSELY??

then when lance got p5 and nando got p3 (dont remember what race) and while celebrating with the team nando put a hand on his face again and one on his waist?? and people say they have a "father son dynamic" 😣

i posted abt this a while ago but them walking together is like my favourite thing ever because theyre so close and aware of eachother its like theyre two teenagers with a crush 😭 then ofc that video of nando waiting for lance because he was walking slow like ugh theyre so sweet

then we know lance obvi doesnt enjoy media much and usually has a poker face or is showing the person talking to him that he isnt enjoying the conversation but as soon as he sees fernando or he gets involved he has the biggest toothy grin on his face like i know your cheeks hurt after geeking over this man so much

and we're all aware that nando is practically known for being evil and mean and having big rivalries with his teammates (besides carlo they're my babies) but thats never been a problem with lance theyve genuinely always been just love and had this sweet bond and dynamic since before nando and lance even thought of joining aston and its beautiful

also i adore how they basically refuse to fight eachother or risk their relationship its so sweet and its a very unique thing to see because this is a sport and thats the whole point. from lance saying he wasnt going to fight because it was fernando and nando giving lance his brake information because he knew it would help it really shows just how mature they are and how in the end they value their relationship and their teams performance as a whole so they put that above fighting eachother.

#kat talks #this is more rambling #but u get it #im so normal about them #f1 #formula 1 #lance stroll #fernando alonso #aston martin #ls18 #strollonso #fa14 #1418 #i love them #my babies #old man x twink #the best dynamic

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not-poignant · 2 days

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Hi! Big fan of your work and writing blog :) I have a question re: fanfic reception. I like writing fanfics about villains on the receiving end of noncon, and I sometimes get feedback that makes me feel weird and I dunno how to respond to it? It’s along the lines of "thanks for giving [character] the pain they deserve" "it’s good that you aren’t nice to [character] like those other fanfic writers". (Part 1…)

(Part 2…)I kind of feel like they’re complimenting my morals instead of my writing, but I also could be overreacting, because I mean it’s fine to seek out fics where a character you hate gets tortured? No hurry answering this, and thanks in advance if you do. I hope you’re doing alright on your break from UtB. I am using the time to reread and am loving it!

Hi anon!

Oh this is an interesting quandary to be in, because I'm certain at least some of those people are very much being moralistic about it.

Tbh when it's 'thanks for giving (character) the pain they deserve' you can probably ignore that if you want, because yeah, they might have revenge fantasies and find that very satisfying.

But when you get people going 'thanks for being mean / not nice to this character like other writers' - if you're the kind of person who responds to comments and feels uncomfortable when someone is using your space to shame other authors (because that's exactly what's happening) you can choose - if you want - to take the time to say 'I have no problems when people enjoy this character being hurt, however, I do not tolerate when folks shame other authors and readers for what they enjoy in fiction. Please don't compliment my fic by putting down other people, that's not what a compliment is' or something similar.

As soon as a reader brings in other people and shames them, that's absolutely when you can take a stand and see a clear issue.

I see this a lot for two different things:

Writing realistic kink, and so many readers being like 'omg thanks for writing realistic kink there's so much unrealistic trash on here' and these days I always make a point of saying 'oh thanks! but I write and love unrealistic trash too. This is a fictional site and no one should be expected to write realistic kink here!' It shuts people down amazingly fast. But also makes them realise that perhaps they just shouldn't be throwing stones when we're all in a very glass castle on AO3 lmao

Writing realistic trauma recovery, so like 'thanks for showing how awful and evil rape can be unlike those people who write it for fun' - now how I end up with these readers with my actual writing history, I don't know, but I take the same approach of like 'thanks BUT I LOVE writing rape as titillation! I enjoy both!'

You don't have to be as blunt as me, and you don't have to address it at all, but any reader who shames other authors or readers in your comment section can be addressed directly because it's just a shitty thing to do. And people don't say shit like that in public if they don't secretly hope that one of those people will see the comment and feel bad about what they like.

So yeah, with your first example, they could be feeling moralistic, or they could just want a revenge fantasy and really enjoy noncon! The second example is a clear cut example of shaming, or stepping on other people to pass you a compliment, and you're never ever over-reacting when that makes you feel uncomfortable, or makes you feel like it's not really a compliment. Because all it really is, is a version of: 'you passed my moral standards, thanks' and that's not actually a compliment at all. (Or like you say, it's complimenting your morals, it's like having a weird fandom policeman come by and glare at you and be like '....okay you're committing no crimes, as you were' and moving on. It's just weird).

Anyway *shakes hands for weird comments that shame other readers/authors in the form of a compliment* - I do think you're right to feel uncomfortable at least sometimes when this happens. It's up to you how you choose to address or not address it, but I will say personally that if you aren't going to address it in comments, maaaaybe consider deleting the ones that shame other readers/authors, so that when those people read your fics they don't feel alienated. It's obviously your choice! But just something to consider if you want to be curating your space. And best of luck writing all the noncon-villain fics! They can be a lot of fun :D

#asks and answers #on fandom #on fanfiction #these kinds of comments are also becoming more common #now that we judge fics badly based purely on morals #complimenting a fic on its moral standing is considered a very good compliment #but it's not really #it feels very Christian Evangelist youth camp where it's like #'wow jessica you're so good at following the lord!'#'thanks Angie I never sin!'#'wow me either!'#like get me out of the cult and can we just go back to complimenting each toher on the filth of the noncon #and how good you make a character suffer sadlfkjas

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biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer · 23 hours

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Can you write how Geo would deal with a mc that is always sick? (Totally not cause I'm sick too)

My Remedy for your Malady. (All x Sick! MC/Reader)

Anon. First and foremost, I made you wait 5 1/2 days. I am truly, wholly sorry for this *humbly bows*. (▰︶︹︺▰)

Secondly, I decided that I'm gonna do this for all 7 of our characters, because Jess, Brit and Deryl deserve more attention. I hope you may forgive me for my lateness, and enjoy this fic nonetheless (btw get well soon if you're not already <33).

Also I know that Jess especially is shorter (literally teehee) than the others, but I'm gonna get the hang of her eventually. Same with Deryl. >:]

ALSO, you're in an established relationship with them, so that's why they have (very legal) access to your residence!

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Remedy: a medicine or treatment for a disease or injury.

Malady: a disease or ailment.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geo was concerned when he found out you were ill.

When you didn't show up to school for the last few days, he texted you to find out why; to which you bluntly told him you felt like utter shit.

He doesn't pick up on the fact you're sick until you straight-up tell him.

Depending on what type of sick you are, he'll get the appropriate medicines/remedies and speed his way towards your home, hell, he might even skip archery, and he *never* skips archery.

Would rock up with food he knows shouldn't cause any problems or nausea for you and will probably make soup.

And you better fucking eat it.

He will feed it to you (reluctantly, but if you seriously can't do it yourself, then he'll manage).

Will ask you how the hell you fell ill anyway, and depending on your answer, he'll be either: Pissed (if you caught it from someone else), Or exasperated (if you stopped taking care of yourself or didn't equip yourself well enough to deal with the weather).

Will take care of you either way.

Will read to you in Japanese to help you sleep.

Will try to not lie near you if possible, unless absolutely needed. He does not plan on catching shit.

Will remain at your residence until you recover; unless he has classes that are either critically important and/or ones you're also in.

Will lend you his notes.

Will also take them back after a few days.

Will also just probably talk to you while you're bedridden, unless you cannot, in which case he'll simply watch you sleep, occasionally stroking your head and hair to try and comfort you.

He's trying his best, okay?

Sol will freak when he finds out you're sick.

Doesn't care what he's got on next, he's gonna go take care of you.

Will probably feel bad for not telling Hyugo anything about suddenly vanishing

, but he'll understand right?

Will spawn outside your home with: - Medicine, - Your favourite comfort food (if you can eat it without the fear of vomiting), - Probably will bring poetry and art with him, so you both have something to do (that's not him) when you're bedridden.

Will try and hold you if possible, doesn't mind if he gets your blessed germs on him.

You'll have to tell him that you'd worry for him if he fell ill, so he'll respect that.

But he will feed you. You don't have a say in that.

You're being babied now.

He's gonna make sure everything you want (and can have when sick), you'll have.

Is honestly okay with not going to any class, he'll just ask Hyugo for notes if he hasn't been MIAing.

Covers you in blankets if you've got a cold.

If you have a fever? Ice cream. >:]

Essentially tries to uplift your mood as much as humanely possible.

This guy will do anything for you. <33

Crowe will ensure that when he arrives at your home, you'll have everything you'll need.

Will cook your favourite food.

Will make you eat soup and light foods that are easy on the stomach.

Won't touch you, he doesn't want to fall ill, but will read to you.

He's got a soothing voice I just know it.

And he's 110% going to put you in a coma from how tired you feel when his voice hits just right.

Or maybe you're just fatigued because of your body waging a war against god-knows what kind of virus.

Will make you all forms of beverages to suit your illness, will also go out of his way to purchase any, after all, he's got the funding.

Will still go to classes, and takes extensive notes for you.

Will also tutor you the content if you're up for it.

Will stroke your hair if it's not sweaty, as a form of comfort.

Will make you feel as loved as possible.

Because that's what you deserve.

Brittney will be appalled.

How did you get sick? More importantly...who got you sick?

She's gonna yell at them.

Or fight them.

Maybe both.

Will buy a bunch of goodies for the both of you.

She can't cook for shit, so she'll just get takeout as food and order a fuckton of cough drops and Panadol.

You're both gonna be painting each others' nails.

And spilling gossip. Oh my god, she always had gossip.

Will give you notes to subjects that are majors, or ones you share.

Other than that can't offer much.

Will sit away from you to not get sick, but she'll 110% be supporting you emotionally.

Will probably give you a massage when you get better.

Idk she gives the vibe that she would.

Is the most aggressively supportive girlfriend ever.

She only wants you to recover ASAP, and to feel as content as someone who's sick can be. <333

Jess will be focused solely on you recovering as swiftly as humanely possible.

Is upset when she finds out you're fallen ill.

She'll drive to her home, grab the best shit she has and drives to your home.

Stays with you for days on end.

You've become her priority now, after all.

Jess is a very devoted (and lonely) girl, what can I say.

Will try and comfort you via reading to you, or listening to you talk about literally anything.

She just loves your company and you. Poor girl's been neglected her whole life.

She'll try her hardest to take care of you, and she does a very good job. (Ask Brittney teehee)

You're more than glad to have her.

And she to have you.

Hyugo will be astounded.

You? Got sick?

Why?

Did someone make you sick???? (if so teehee someone's getting food poisoning~)

He's at your home, with everything.

Literally everything.

Blankets, movies, games, medicine, puns, your favourite food and whatever else he deems necessary.

Will hug you if you're not aggressively sneezing/coughing.

Will watch movies with you on the couch with you lying on his plush fucking thighs.

Says the most stupid shit in Japanese (such as teaching you how to hide a body) and making it sound like flirting.

Tells you jokes and puns to make you feel better, until you laugh too hard that is and almost die.

Will make food for you.

Will ramble on about random shit to you, or listen to you talk (if you can).

Literally just seeing you content is more than enough for him.

Deryl will be SHOOKETH.

He will sprint to your fucking house. He doesn't care.

You're his only priority now.

Will magically appear at your home, and immediately hugs you.

You can be fucking dying, he doesn't care.

You're getting squashed.

Will be asking if you're okay 24/7

Until he realises he forgot to bring food.

Then he runs to get it, along with tablets, Panadol, all that jazz.

Like RUNS.

HE WILL RUN.

HE IS A FAST MOTHERFUCKER.

FAST!!!!!

Then he gets tired, so by the time he gets to the store, gets the food (and the 'goods'), he's gonna just call a fucking cab and crash at your place. (he forgot takeout existed lol)

He doesn't mind, and frankly, neither do you. The food and snacks was awesome (well, what you could eat anyway).

Will try his absolute best to take care of you, but often gets carried away with his energy. Often talks and rambles to you while you happily lay in bed next to him and listen.

Will call Geo or Jess for how to make a warm soup to feed you.

Then it becomes 'we've got Masterchefs at home'.

Shit goes crazy when Deryl's around tbh.

And you're more than happy to enjoy the ride (in more ways than one ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)).

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thyandrawrites · 1 year

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Do you ever look around yourself in a fandom and realize your headcanons aren't shared by almost anyone anymore because most of your original group of peers left the fandom and now there's new folks with completely foreign tropes and interpretations... or is that just me? Gosh, way to make me feel like a fandom oldie...

#You know it's funny because I'm pouring all my headcanons and readings of the current arc in fic format #And it's taking me a year to finish this thing #And I just realized that when I do post it... it might be very poorly received bc everyone reads these things very differently now #It's so weird #But anyway this wasn't a pity party #I am writing my fic anyway because I do enjoy it #And I like it as is #If it's unpopular so be it #I'll just put an author's note to warn ppl I guess lol #Me: no fear #One fear: people who think dabi doesn't give a shit about his siblings and that his emotions are black and white #The todofam is like an onion. They have layers #Most of which are ugly ngl #I hope I will convey that nuance

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piratekane · 1 year

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7! Ava telling Bea that🫠🫠

seven: look at me. just breathe.

Ava looks small. She always has, despite feeling larger than life. But in a wide hospital bed with wires running from her body to the various beeping machines, she looks smaller than she did before she slipped through the Arc.

Before you sent her through it.

Beatrice stands at the edge of the doorway, wringing her hands as Jillian flutters around Ava with purposeful hands. Ava looks tired, but impossibly cheerful as Jillian puts another electrode pad on her exposed skin. She keeps stealing glances at the doorway, keeps ducking her head to meet Beatrice’s eyes, and always frowning a little when Beatrice gives nothing away.

She’s afraid to step forward, afraid to meet Ava’s eyes. What if this is a dream? What if she’s fallen asleep and woken up in a dream world where everything has magically fallen into place? Ava escaping Reya’s realm the moment Beatrice crosses the threshold of Cat’s Cradle? It’s too… perfect. It slots together too neatly.

She can’t cross the threshold because she might wake up in a hotel room somewhere - Cinque Terre, Faro, Lisbon - and this has all been a trick of the mind, a quiet torturous place her mind has found.

“Beatrice?”

Jillian touches her arm gently, trying not to startle her. Beatrice holds onto herself, a sharp inhale the only thing that gives her surprise away. But either Jillian doesn’t hear or she’s too kind to bring attention to it. She simply gives Beatrice a kind smile and slight tilt of her head. A quiet, she’s asking for you.

Beatrice searches for the part of her that’s always stood tall in the face of adversity. It wasn’t always there, grown out of a necessity, but it activates now as she takes that first step into the room on feet that feel steadier than her heart does. The live wire edge in her chest fizzles a little when she sees the way Ava’s face lights up as she moves closer and her hesitation simply vanishes.

Ava smiles wider. “Hi.”

Hi feels too small. Hey feels too informal. I’ve been thinking of you every minute of every day for the last nine months and you’re a ghost haunting all of my waking moments and sleeping ones too and I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life feels too big.

She settles for a quiet, “Hello.”

Ava’s nose wrinkles. “Hello,” she echoes, pitching her voice slightly deeper. A clumsy attempt at mimicking her accent. She blinks up at Beatrice expectantly. “Anything else?” she asks after a moment.

“You’re back.” Everything else she wants to say sticks in her throat.

“I am.” Ava tips her head curiously, keen eyes studying her. Beatrice wonders if she sees the new highlights in her hair, the added years Beatrice sees when she looks at herself in the mirror. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting a party, or anything. Maybe a banner or a cupcake. Though, I get that it was kind of an impromptu arrival and there wasn’t a lot of time to plan. I mean, it’s not like you guys have a ‘Welcome Back to Earth’ banner on hand, right?” She pauses again. “I was expecting more than hello, though.”

Restraint, Beatrice, her mother used to tell her. Show some restraint. When she spoke out of turn, became too excited - it was always whip-sharp eyes in her direction, reminding her to practice some self-discipline. Ava, on the other end of the long spectrum between what is expected and what isn’t, is the least restrained person Beatrice has ever met.

Beatrice, months separated from Ava’s influence, struggles to find a middle ground.

“Seriously.” Ava laughs. She sounds nervous. “They didn’t, like, replace you with a pod person or anything, did they?” Her eyes widen. “Is this some kind of alternate reality where people are different? Are you really Beatrice? Or are you her evil twin? Is this world run by toads? I had a dream once where there was a toad king who demanded we all speak in ribbits. Or is it croaks? Hey, can you look up the sound toads make? I think I missed that science lesson.”

“Ava,” Beatrice breathes. Fond exasperation is easy to fall into.

Ava grins rakishly. “Ah, there she is.”

Beatrice opens her mouth to scold her, to tell Ava that she’s not as funny as she thinks she is, but she’s horrified when a single sob loosens from somewhere in the back of her throat and explodes into the space between them.

They both look startled at the sound, but Ava recovers quicker than she does. She curses softly when she tries to move, wires tangling up around her wrists. She starts to try and move them out of her way, her legs swinging over the side of the bed as she starts to inch towards Beatrice. She looks up, forehead pulled together in frustration. “Hold- just hold on.”

Beatrice claps her hand down over her mouth, trying to stop the next horrible sound that comes out of it. She holds out her other hand, trying to tell Ava to stay back. No, no, no. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

Ava curses again, louder and in Portuguese this time, as another wire comes undone and loops its way around her arm instead. “I swear to fucking God and all her shitty decisions that if this thing doesn’t- Ha!” She wiggles out of one wire, then a second. She smiles triumphantly at Beatrice but that wrinkle in her forehead hasn’t faded away.

Something starts beeping as Ava disconnects the next wire. There’s a moment where they both stand, suspended as they wait for Ava to suddenly collapse onto the floor, that one wire the only thing keeping her up. But nothing comes and Ava must decide that it’s the all-clear; she starts pulling at wires until they disconnect, creating a cacophony of noise that feels like a mis-paced symphony.

“Hold on, hold on,” Ava is muttering as she pulls the last wire free. She’s suddenly in front of Beatrice, hands out in front of her carefully. “Hey, Bea.”

Beatrice’s eyes dart around the room. It’s starting to narrow to a pinprick, the lights spinning around. Ava is the only thing staying still, her focal part as the rest of the room rushes in on her. Another sob starts to build in her throat but it gets stuck there, forming into a hard knot that makes it hard to swallow around.

Breathe, she tells herself. Just take a breath.

“Look at me. Just breathe,” Ava says quietly. She takes a hesitant step forward. “I think- Bea, I think you’re having a panic attack.”

Beatrice tries to shake her head. She tries, but she’s not sure that she does. Her body feels far away, like she’s swimming underwater from one end of an endless pool to the other. The beeping of the machines distorts into a heartbeat, but that might just be the blood rushing in her ears. She tries to inhale and chokes on that knot.

“Okay, just follow my voice.” Ava sounds closer, but Beatrice can’t quite say how close she is. The room is starting to stretch out like a funhouse mirror. “Bea, uh, okay. Okay. I’m going to touch you. I know, you might freak out. But I’m going to put my hands on your hands, okay? Just like… just like this.”

She feels something cool and soft land on the wrist of her outstretched arm. It becomes a focal point. She focuses all of her energy there, all of her remaining senses rush to the spot where Ava’s fingertips curl around her pulse point.

Ava makes a noise that sounds like a hum just under the hot whistle of air in Beatrice’s ears. “Good. Now the other hand.”

Another cool hand touches hers, pulling it away from her mouth. She lets her world dial down to just the feather-light touch of Ava’s hand tangling with hers, lets herself focus in on the soft pads of Ava’s fingers running over the silvery scars on her hands. Each brush against her knuckle breaks down the knot in her throat until she can take in a ragged breath, then another, then one more.

The world begins to expand again - light filtering back in, the beeping stretching out into its asynchronous rhythm, the slightly sterile smell of clean cotton on the hospital bed. She focuses all of her attention on Ava, though. On the soft soothing noises Ava is making, the heat coming off her body as she gets closer, the strange patterns Ava is rubbing into her wrist.

“Hey,” Ava says quietly in the spaces between the beeping. “Hey, there you are.”

“I’m sorry,” she croaks, graceless.

Ava’s eyes are wide, but kind as they come into focus. Beatrice could count the inches between them on two hands. “You don’t need to apologize. I don’t think either of us expected this.”

“I should have.” She inhales again, the exhale a little steadier. “I should have been expecting this.”

“Beatrice, I mean this in the nicest way.” Ava ducks her head just a little, meeting her gaze directly. “This is a compliment, okay? You are not perfect. You cannot anticipate everything. And you shouldn’t be expected to do that. So it’s okay, alright? It’s okay that you didn’t anticipate some scientific marvel spitting me back into reality. I think I can forgive you for that, hmm?”

“Okay,” she whispers, not believing it entirely. But Ava looks so convincing, she lets the idea sit and tries to believe it could be true. “I’m-”

“Don’t apologize,” Ava says quickly. “This is a no-sorry party. Apologies department is closed for… the rest of eternity. No need to leave a message.” She strokes her thumb against the back of Beatrice’s hand before her eyes widen in mock-surprise. “Maybe this is an alternate reality where I’m not funny anymore.”

“Your jokes were always mediocre at best,” she manages.

Ava grins. “She speaks. And she lies.” Ava’s expression softens and she pulls until Beatrice can count the inches on one hand now. They’re nearly nose to nose and Beatrice can see the thin skin over Ava’s collarbone, just a little more pronounced this close up. “You’re okay.”

Beatrice takes in a slow, measured breath. “You’re here,” she exhales.

“All 238 bones of me.” Ava’s mouth falls into a serious line. “I’m including teeth, of course.”

She can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from her unexpectedly. Get control of yourself, her mother’s voice hisses. But Ava is looking at her, pleased. It sends her mother to the back of her head, back behind Ava’s smile.

“You had your wisdom teeth removed,” she reminds Ava gently.

Ava’s mouth falls open slightly. “How did you-” Her eyes narrow, but she’s smiling. “No stone unturned for you people, hmm? I bet Sister Frances kept those teeth, too. You know, Diego and I always thought she had some kind of creepy collection of, like, teeth and hair. She seemed the type.” Her fingers start working over Bea’s hands and up towards her elbows as she carefully starts to guide them around her back.

“Ava,” Beatrice tries.

“I don’t know about you,” Ava says quietly. “I don’t know how long it’s been since-”

“Too long,” Beatrice breathes. Eight months, twenty-three days, and somewhere around three hours, she doesn’t say out loud.

“But it’s been even longer for me,” Ava finishes. “And, I’ll be honest, okay? I really missed Mother Superion and Camila and, yeah, okay, parts of Lilith. But you were the only thing that kept me going. So I’m going to hug you and you’re going to hug me and then I’m going to pass out, if that’s okay with you?”

Beatrice startles a little, their forehead nearly knocking as she grabs Ava tightly and holds her against her body. Ava seems to sigh into the hug, her forehead dropping into the curve of Beatrice’s neck, her hands gripping the back of Beatrice’s shirt tight enough to crease the carefully ironed fabric. She grows heavy nearly instantly and Beatrice almost sways under the sudden weight.

“I’m-”

“Shut up,” Ava murmurs. Beatrice feels the words more than she hears them. “Just, be quiet, okay? I’ve been imagining this for years.”

Years, she thinks. But she goes quiet again, pressing her lips to Ava’s hair. She breathes in something bleach-like, like the ozone burning. She carefully inches forward, Ava’s abandoned bed her destination. She can hear her heart beating against her rib cage, but Ava’s own heart seems to be answering in its own language.

She starts to loosen her grip on Ava, intending to convince her that she should lay back down, let Beatrice reattach all of the wires monitoring her vitals, let Beatrice go and find Jillian to make sure they didn’t mess everything up. But when she goes to loosen her grip, Ava hangs on.

“Don’t,” Ava whispers. “Don’t let go yet.”

Beatrice holds on tighter; doesn’t tell Ava she has no intention of ever letting go again.

#warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #tw: panic attack #this is just an entire fic i am sorry #beatrice needs a break okay?#i might use this again in a larger fic tbh because it immediately gave me a hundred ideas #but hey it's my writing so i can do what i want #*said in my 7-year-old's voice*#anyway writing this was a lot out of me #i hope if you read it you enjoy it

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ishipthis · 10 months

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iWant it all with you.

iWant it all with you (1741 words) by Ishipthis Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: iCarly Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Freddie Benson/Carly Shay Characters: Freddie Benson, Carly Shay Additional Tags: Fluff, One Shot, Feelings, Love Confessions Summary: Carly wants everything with Freddie, it just takes a little misunderstanding to finally realise it's possible. Or; A oneshot based around episode 309 where feelings are felt.

#When your beautiful friend asks you to write a fic about 309 you drop what you're doing and write it #I don't really know how this came out so quickly #I have a lot of feelings I guess?#Please don't read this until you've watched the episode though #don't spoil it for yourself #But if you HAVE watched and you need more #then definitely read because you may enjoy #Also I am well aware that the episode was filled with comedy and this is not #but it's my Creddie Universe and I will make it emotional if I want to #Anyway #that's all #enjoy my friends!#Creddie #Creddie fic #Icarly #carly x freddie #otp: you're everything i've ever wanted #otp: you're still my hero

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solardistress · 11 months

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everyone who is in the stanley parable fandom should somehow get sucked into the rabbit hole of the story and or characters and or the concept the game presents . not like ohhh i looove the narratorso much heres my design and lore for them for it kind of rabbit hole where you fixate on this character that like. you are making uo backstory for to the point it deviates from canon because youve gone too far from the game details or whatever but but really aanalyze the game the moments the dialogue for just a moment . mmfind the meaning in the words . find somethin g profound in the data the papers the desks the situation as a whole . you cant just . romanticize the characters. without. like. understanding them first . tou cwnt do anything with the characters until you inderstand them at a gut wrenching level . at least brush uo on their wiki once in a while ? play the game ? every now and then ? treat stanley right ? anyway if you like the stanley parable so much why cant you tell me about 432 and their situation . how profoundly sad their existance is and how you trea t them. how about cookie9? why do you hate themm so much. because of a review ? tou antagonize them for what ? the narrators doing ? bexause the narrator what . yeah . tou cant even explain his actions . go go play the game and hav eit rewrite your brain . go down the rabbit hole and bask in the true horror and unrealism of their situation

#how sleepy am i jesus christ #tsp #anywayy i think what im saying is pleade enjoy the gamr and the story it has actually theres so many little details and often all i see is #just. the narrator . the endings . stanley. yeah theres feeling and emotion but j want that in words i want to to see you understand it #i want to see you see it in your own way inderstand and process it in your own way and share that #i love seeing analysis posts !!!!! uughh nbrhh. not to say that like. the fanart isnt what i want no i love the fanart so much #but i wish there were more analysis posts or something idk #idk what my point was here #i love characterization . by the way . as someone who would write fanfics and has a pet peeve of correct characterization in fics and such #i just wish more people hnderstood the game as a whole and didnt just end up being like haha ships !!!!!!!! romance !!!!! like yes ! but #but also like they have something MORE than romance. something more intimate and close . not sex yeah sure whatever but they are #connected in the most horrible ways and connected so closely and lovingly and they are connected whether they like it or not #they hate each other they love each other they are each others world they are divorced theyve been married for eternity they would kill eac #other they woukd have sex they woukd kiss they would dance they would do so many things that arent romance oriented but still close in #so many fucking ways because they love hate each other and their relationship is so conplicated you think they just suddenly love each othe #no matter what now ?? after what. you think stanley is forgiving ? after being brought through hell over and over and over again?#no! they hate each others guts i tell you. but they still stick by each others sides because they dont belong anywhere else #theres love but not in any way any of us can think. theres love but not like that but also exactly like that. theres also hate #and its a beautiful mix of the two that allows them to get along so well and endure each other for so long and further #anyway fucking . i forgot my point #anyway go down the rabbit hole 👍 this game is insane and you should be insane about it too #but like. be insane about it . not the concept of romance in this game. do not pair them up just for the sake of shipping #understand their relationship. understand them. understand their circumstances. understand their problems their bate their love #them. understand them and how much they need each other. how they keep chasing and chasing and chasing only to run #in circles. anyway what was my POINT. i ront remember 👍👍👍#i am . so sleepy

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seventh-district · 4 months

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wow!!! nothing better than watching your AO3 subscribers stat go down every time you post a new chapter of your current fic!!!

#/sarcastic btw. i am. Not happy about this recent development #Seven.txt #writing stuff #ao3 #like. don't get me wrong i do understand why and i can't fault anyone and i'm not like.. Mad. but it does hurt a lil #but alas. tis the nature of creating and posting things. not everything's gonna be received well and that's fine #it does suck to see a fic i put so much time and effort and love and part of myself into flopping so hard #not because i wrote it for anyone's sake other than my own #but i'd be lying if i said i didn't want people to enjoy the things i create. that's like. a normal and common desire #and i think i maybe killed it before it could get going with how i tagged it and the bigass disclaimer at the beginning #i think those turn a lot of ppl off that might otherwise read and maybe even find that they enjoy it??#but i would rather over-warn ppl for the triggering and non-canon aspects than under-warn them and potentially trigger or upset someone #and i can't blame ppl that subscribed for some Other thing when they open their email and see a notif that i posted smthn #and it's a mile of upsetting/negative sounding tags for a fic abt a guy they either don't know or don't wanna see mischaracterized #and so of course they unsub and that's okay. it's okay.#anyways. enough bitching abt my fic not doing well. i don't have much room to complain!#most of my stuff is fairly well received imo. so i can stand to have a flop fic every once in a while. gotta balance things out lmao #the good thing is it's already fully written so the lack of engagement can't stop me!! there's no motivation to kill! it's done already!#anyways. i'll post a chapter a day as planned and then it'll be out of my system in a week and i can post other stuff again finally #next up will be an [N]MbD oneshot. then i'll finally post the Dew Ghost Band OCD fic. then another [N]MbD oneshot ehehe #and thennn ES Ch.5! fucking finally. i can't wait to continue that story #the Dew fic is a oneshot too btw. once AEIWNF is fully posted then the only multi-chapter project i'll have is ES. and that's Enough

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whysamwhy123 · 7 months

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Still unwell and I'm going to babble incoherently under the cut about my blorbo DG again because it's my blog and I'll do dumb shit if I want and I'm sick right now so I can't be held responsible for anything, those are the rules OKAY

DG absolutely tried to pick up girls while dressed as Waluigi. I am fascinated by how this man's mind works. He is the fuckboyest fuckboy who ever fuckboyed and I just find that so compelling? I'm wanting more and more to write some weird character study of him for a fic. Like, a multi-chapter fic that's just him Doing Stuff and being weird about it and angsting over the state of his life, just full on psychoanalysis. But, like, nobody would give a shit? Because there wouldn't even be a pairing, it would probably just be Daniel's internal monologue as he goes about his life, facing setback after setback, challenge after challenge, loss after loss and then trying to distract himself/numb the pain by going out with his boys, partying, dancing up a storm (because he just wants to DANCE GODDAMNIT) and trying to get laid. Literally, I'm imagining every fucking chapter would ultimately be about which girl he's trying to take home this week and what stupid fuckboy way he goes about it. Maybe sometimes he succeeds, or maybe he fails yet again and goes back to his hotel room feeling profoundly alone and then jerks off in the shower while crying. But regardless of whether he scores or not, it'll never fix the emptiness he feels inside. It will never quiet the doubts. It'll never stop him regretting his past choices. It won't make the people around him - his chosen family, his friends - understand him or stop them from rejecting outright. He looks at his life, all the missed opportunities and wonders if he'll ever get the chance to be the man he's always wanted to be. The man he felt destined to become. But now that man feels more and more like a pipe dream, like a vague, fading dream that perhaps never was. He doesn't know what to do with that information. He doesn't know who he is when he's not trying to be that man. It's soul-crushing and terrifying and it just makes him feel even worse about himself.

But for now, all he can do is dance.

#This one gets weird folks #Because I am sick #I should probably delete this but whatever #I have a lot of DG thoughts and most of them are about how much I want to write about him having a full-on mental breakdown LOL #For he is my poor pathetic little meow-meow and I truly truly love how pathetic he is (in storyline of course)#God this hypothetical fic would be so weird and so self-indulgent and no one would care no one would fucking read it #But I'd enjoy the hell out of an intense DG character study #Buuuut I probably won't ever write it #I do however still have my Dead Dove fic that I started a little before my writing slump #I swear I really wanna finish that someday #Because it definitely involves him having a full on mental breakdown and losing his mind because IT'S FUN #....anyways I should probably shut up and try to get some rest I am not doing well LOL #Can you believe this was all caused by me watching Daniel try to hit on girls while dressed as Waluigi?#The effect this man has on me is quite frankly scary

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my-shining-sun · 1 year

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Fic suggestion: if gepetto sang a short reprise of my son to the dead pinocchio after the dogfish scene . about how he was already perfect the way he was.

whaddahell 🥺🥺 thanks for the suggestion!! it'll take me a while to get to it (if i ever do) just because the state of my life rn is Extremely Busy, but this has. certainly given me smth to think about

#on another note i am very glad to know that you enjoy my writing enough to give me a fic suggestion <3 #if someone else happens to tackle this before i do then all the better because i can't promise you a posting date sdfkdjlfj #BUT it is indeed Giving Me Thoughts #singing is so hard to get right in fics....but i think i could work smth out if given the time #thanks again!! <3 #i won't tag this but i hope whoever sent this in will see it anyway sfkjdsl #gushing.text

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senselessalchemist · 1 year

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writing my goddamn fic be like and it's still not done

(disclaimer this may not be long for some people but it is for me)

#why is it long and still not finished #fic keeps on keeping on #because i am going to split it up into quote unquote chapters im really struggling not to just start posting #i want the dopamine #but i also want to have it be not terrible #and considering my track record with deciding that i need to drastically edit beginnings of things i just worry #so probably i should write it all and then edit and then post all at once #like here ya go enjoy the vidya game fanfic novella!#literally 0 idea if this would at all be enjoyable to anyone but me #i do hope people like it when its done #i like exploring various themes in different fics #usually each one has some like guiding theme #(not so much the last one but ehhhhh i shoehorned it a bit)#this one possibly unsurprisingly is identity #so... yeah. lots of stuff to chew on there #anyway this is probably not a lot of words for some people but its a loy for me and like... this might hit 50k #which is arbitrary but exciting for me #makes me feel like i will have accomplished something

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starryserenade · 1 year

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Myth & Magic Chapter 4: Bound

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: Recollections, Revivals, and Regrets

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

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Child of earth, come heed to me

Loose your ties, be bound to sea

Let your breaths be turned to song

That words of old may right new wrongs

Then light the fire swathed in tears

The heart of Fand among Mac Lir’s

Deep fog hung over Minnie’s thoughts, the melodic curse heavy on her ears. When had she heard it last? Yes…she recalled…the day she had lost her crown, lost everything, and unwittingly traded her freedom to that faceless creature–the Voice, as she’d come to call it. It was all a trick, she had determined. A cruel game set forth by the fae that she had no hope of winning. She had done her task, hadn’t she? Night after night, she’d sung her song to keep the fairies at bay and the forest concealed. Day after day, she’d waited for the one she’d been promised would arrive.

But she had never again heard the one that had called her, nor heard so much as a whisper of further help. The emptiness remained in her chest, the unfinished memories in her head. And any hope of finding these answers on her own had been shattered the first time she’d tried, her water-bound body nearly frozen by the frigid forest air.

Had she tried again? For she suddenly found she could not move, her own breaths still and silent. The fog refused to leave her mind, no matter how she fought to see through it, and fear settled upon her like a thick blanket of snow. She could not breathe. Could not see. Could not feel. Could not cry. Again, the name she didn’t know raced to her tongue in a call for help, but she couldn’t remember how to form the word. So she was silent. Silent and frightened and endlessly cold.

Until the faintest ray of warmth settled in her palm. It startled her at first, but she could not help but settle into it–a feeling so wholly kind and wonderful that she hoped it would never leave. And to her delight, it not only remained but spread about her whole being, driving away the frost until she felt she’d been wrapped in the softest embrace. Bathed in light, the fog began to leave and her thoughts returned to her. She remembered a boy above the ice, his eyes kind and hopeful, and wondered what had become of him. Then she recalled his fall and her rescue, and the fairies that had driven them away. He’d been injured as they ran, she realized with a start, but she could not remember anything more.

Minnie thought to resist the growing urge to wake, determined to recall the boy’s fate. But she felt something like a tear fall upon her chest and the faintest pressure against her hand, and it drew her from her uncertainty. Letting the warmth consume her, she drew in a breath and blinked, light gracing her vision as she opened her eyes. There was no ice or snow, no shadowy fae or dark creatures. Only warm sunlight, a gentle breeze, and the tear-stained face of a trembling mouse staring back at her.

“Mickey…” she breathed, his name feeling strangely lovely on her lips. His heartbeat fluttered under her palm, her hand locked in his and pressed against his fur, and she felt her own heart melt at the sight of the worry and joy sparkling in his eyes. Fiery heat raced through her veins, something more than the feelings that flushed her cheeks. There was a magic in this, a meaning she had yet to uncover. She could not deny how utterly right it felt to be held in his arms, nor the heat that sprung from them every time they touched. It made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’d not been waiting in vain after all.

“What are we?” she questioned softly, still drifting in a daze.

He blushed and turned his head, and Minnie came to herself in a brief stroke of embarrassment. She’d been caught up in his eyes– oh, what eyes… –and had nearly forgotten just how intimately close she was held.

“Careful,” Mickey cautioned gently as, with a small gasp, she made an attempt to rise on her own. He spotted the effort it took for her to move and lent a supportive hand behind her back. Minnie trembled with exhaustion even so, and she murmured a word of thanks when he moved to her side so she could lean against his shoulder.

For several minutes, neither said a word, each savoring the moment to finally breathe uninterrupted. The clouds rolled by in the skies that surrounded them, deep silver waves that shifted endlessly in the wind. Though the rain fell in torrents under their shadow, it never touched the ground where the two mice lay. Only warm sunlight shone down on their faces, and Minnie could not help but turn her head to look Mickey’s way. His eyes were nearly shut, blinking lazily against the fatigue that plagued them, and his cheeks lay flushed with a feverish pink. But still his hand gripped hers, as if fearful she might be struck by the cold should he dare let go. Who was he, she wondered, that he would so quickly loose all qualms to trust her , the cursed girl who’d nearly lured him to his death?

There is one who seeks you…

The Voice’s words played themselves back in her mind, but she was hesitant to believe they’d been fulfilled. To deny it was to neglect every bit of magic that had sparked between them thus far. But to accept it…

She was afraid. For though he was wonderful, and thoughtful, and kind…there was no familiarity in his eyes when he looked her way, and no recollection of his presence when she stood beside him. She had determined long ago that the hole in her heart–that cherished memory stolen from her–would return the second she reunited with the one who was meant to fill it. But it had not. And so accepting that this mouse was the wanderer she’d been promised would find her…was to accept that the one she’d once loved was still lost as ever.

She swallowed and looked back out at the world. Rolling hills stretched before her eyes, leading towards what she knew to be a vast ocean and a castle overlooking it all. This had been her kingdom once, not all that long ago. She had abandoned it, abandoned her people and her friends, to chase someone that was now little more than a scattered dream. How could she return to them now?

Mickey’s touch suddenly seemed too hot and with a brief shudder, she pulled away.

The boy shook his head and blinked drowsily, glancing at Minnie with a confused look that seemed almost hurt. But she only swallowed and avoided his gaze. “You’re tired,” she muttered quietly. “We should find a place to rest.”

She would see him to safety, she decided, and then she would return to the lake. Perhaps if she was back when twilight struck, she would not be too late to keep the forest’s spell alive.

Beside her, Mickey cleared his throat and stood, wobbling slightly on the leg where the net had snagged him. When Minnie looked at him, his tail was drooping, face shadowed with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean t-” she began, heart sinking. But Mickey quickly interrupted with a nervous laugh.

“No, no, you’re right!” He flashed her an awkward grin, shaking the water from his tail as the rain began to start again. “I’m exhausted. There’s a village just upstream. I know someone there who might be willin’ to help us.”

Minnie knew the town he spoke of, but said nothing. It was worthless now to say things that would only make him wonder more about her. So she simply nodded and grabbed his hand as he held it out for her, hoping the villagers wouldn’t recognize her when they arrived in town. But Mickey winced as he helped her stand and she caught glimpse of a wound beneath the tear in the fabric of his trousers, something like a deep burn peeking through. She bit her lip. How the net had done that, she didn’t know, but she hated to watch as he grimaced with every step.

“Mickey, you’re hurt,” she noted, concerned. “Do you really think you can get all that way on foot?”

He opened his mouth to respond but before he could do so, something seemed to catch his attention. He turned away from her, tail twisting in curiosity as he looked out over the moors. Minnie followed his gaze upstream, heart fluttering nervously when she spotted a dark spot moving over the horizon.

“Mickey?” she asked cautiously.

He didn’t respond, but a moment later his face lit up with a grin and he exploded in an energetic wave. “Looks like we won’t have to walk after all!” he smiled widely, but despite his enthusiasm, Minnie moved behind him as the shadow grew near.

A wooden cart pulled by a rather unseemly mule came into view, driven by a figure who waved back with nearly as much vigor as Mickey. The difference was that he was nearly twice the mouse’s size as well, and so had a distinctly lanky way about the way he moved. Had Minnie not been so cautious of the stranger, she might have laughed. But as it was, she was not quite prepared to face another person so soon–someone who could recognize her as the princess who’d left them all behind. It was lucky enough Mickey hadn’t. So she hung back as much as she could, snatching Mickey’s cloak from the ground and draping it around her to hide her face and form as much as possible.

Mickey walked–or rather, limped–to meet the man as he approached, and was greeted with an enthusiastic “hyuck!” which Minnie took to be some sort of laugh.

“Well, hi there, Mickey!” the man exclaimed, grinning profusely.

“Goofy!” Mickey grinned back. “Boy, am I glad to see you! But what are you doin’ all the way out here?”

Goofy scratched his chin. “After I sent y’off, I started thinkin’ how un-neighborly-like it was to let y’go on your lonesome. And when y’didn’t come back, I got to worryin’ the fairy got you!” He leaned back and smiled. “Sure am glad I was wrong! Guess y’didn’t find the white trout after all though, didja?”

“Well, not exactly…” At this, Mickey softened his voice and cast a quick glance over his shoulder. He caught Minnie’s eye and grinned softly, tilting his head as if to ask her permission for an introduction. She drew in a timid breath, nodded, then took a few steps forward to come into Goofy’s line of sight.

Goofy straightened up as he saw her, throwing her a curious glance.

“Gawrsh, who’s your friend, Mickey?”

Mickey flicked his tail and grinned, grasping Minnie’s hand. “Goofy, meet your ‘fairy’. Her name’s Minnie. Minnie, this is Goofy.”

The man’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked at her, then back at Mickey, then back at her. “Pleased to meet ya, miss fairy ma'am!” he exclaimed with a tilt of his rain-soaked hat, then turned to Mickey once more. “Awful pretty for a fish , isn’t she?”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Mickey replied absentmindedly, looking back her way. Minnie, nervous as she was, could not help but blush and grin, struggling to hide her amusement as Mickey came to realize what he’d said and stuttered frantically in an effort to recover. “I-I mean no! That’s not…she’s not-!”

He looked back and forth between Minnie, who had momentarily forgotten her dilemma and was failing to conceal a series of giggles, and Goofy, who just seemed confused. Finally, Mickey tossed up his hands in defeat. “Oh, nevermind,” he grumbled, rubbing behind his ear as he quickly changed the subject. “Thing is, we had a bit of trouble in the forest,” he explained. “And we could really use a ride back to town, if it’s not a bother.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? A friend of yours is a friend o’ mine. I’d be happy t’help!” Goofy answered without a moment’s hesitation, and gestured to the back of the cart where a load of hay was covered by a thick canvas. “Hop on in! It’s nothin’ fancy, but make yerselves comfortable and get some rest in on the way!” He leaned in again and lowered his voice. “Between you and me, Mick, you look like y’need it.”

Minnie heard all of this and was having quite a difficult time not fully bursting into a fit of laughter. Goofy was quickly beginning to grow on her. She watched as Mickey frowned, mumbled a sarcastic, “Gee, thanks Goof,” and then turned back to Minnie to guide her to the back of the cart.

“Sorry about him,” he grumbled as he lifted her up.

“Oh, don’t be! He’s funny!” she laughed. He rolled his eyes, letting out a puff of frustration, but when he caught the glint in Minnie’s eye as she held out a hand for him to climb up, he seemed to soften.

“S’pose you’re right,” he chuckled, and lifted up the canvas so the two of them could escape the rain amidst the hay. “After you."

It was surprisingly dry and cozy underneath–a welcome break from the damp moisture and cold of outside–and Minnie found herself feeling quite drowsy. Mickey settled into the hay beside her and she listened as he shivered and released a deep sigh. His cheeks had only grown a darker shade of crimson, and his body trembled feverishly. Every now and then he would wince as a piece of hay brushed against his wound.

“Mickey?” Minnie whispered quietly, unsure if he’d fallen asleep. But he peeked an eye in response and turned to look at her.

“Mmhm?”

“What were you doing in the forest?”

“Heard a story…just wanted to see if it was true, I guess.”

“Did you know it was dangerous?”

“...Had a hunch.” He snorted just before he continued, brandishing his words with a chuckle. “Goofy thought you were an evil fairy, actually.”

“What if he’d been right?”

“He wasn-”

“But what if he was? What if I hadn’t been there to help you?” Minnie pressed, turning on her side to look at him. “Why would you risk that?

At this, he was quiet for a few moments. Minnie wondered if he’d drifted back to sleep before he finally responded, a bit quieter than before. “I dunno,” he murmured. “Lately I just…it just feels like I’ve been missin’ something. I thought maybe there’d be something there worth finding.”

Was there? She nearly asked, but bit her lip before the words escaped her. A moment went by with nothing but the sound of the rain around them. Then Mickey shifted, letting out a tired yawn.

“For the record…” he started softly, words slurred by exhaustion.

“Yes?”

But he trailed off as his breaths settled into the rhythm of sleep, and Minnie was left alone with her thoughts. She wondered why her heart felt so tight and why the idea of leaving him only worsened the feeling. They’d only just met. He would be better off without her there, she was sure of it.. Something slipped across her cheek and she held her hand to her face. Teardrops stained her cheeks.

No. I can’t stay. It was all she could do to convince herself. She had made a promise. Had said she would wait. She could not give up on it now. Though she tried to stop them, the tears refused to stop falling. So she curled around herself, clutching her heart as her body wracked with growing sobs. “ I can’t stay,” she whispered, urging herself to understand why. “ I can’t stay…”

For the first time in years, she had the warm company of another soul beside her. Yet somehow, even after all her waiting, she had never felt more alone.

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 1 year

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just got a comment on a fic i wrote four years ago that made me reread all the other fic i wrote for that pairing and remember how deep i dove into a specific album because all the lyrics of it reminded me of that pairing and how i very quickly lost the thread of my obsession with that pairing that made writing them fun but how i love them again just as much these days and want to rewatch them from the beginning and maybe if i return to that same music too i’ll unlock the ability once more to write the kind of fic for them which always made me very happy so i’m just saying you never know what effect your fic comments might have but you should tell fic writers how you feel if you love their work because it is always always always one of the best ways to encourage more of it

#fanfic #fanfiction #writing #(and yes this IS about stranger things so if you recently left me a comment on a jopper fic then you're awesome and ilu)#(but it could just as easily be about any other fandom because when comments are really kind i really do sometimes revisit my own work #and am somehow surprised every time by how much i still like it and how it feels like an alchemical process brought it into being #well beyond just me with my silly little thoughts and feelings--because there's such a detachment that happens after a while #and then i just enjoy it. flaws and all. and if people didn't comment years later and bring me back to realize that i honestly might forget)#anyway shoutout to readers for being awesome and making it feel worth it :)

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deaconsleatherpants · 2 years

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Dead Boys Don't Cry - Chapter 8

Chapter Summary: Everything changes for you forever, one dark night when everything comes to light. It's raining; your skin wet and cold - and all you want is for time to stop moving, but it's too late. After all, you're just a human, mortal and fleshy, caught up with monsters and other things you could never have hoped to beat with luck alone.

Fandom: What We Do in the Shadows (2014)

Rating: M (some moderate violence)

Relationship: Deacon Brücke/Reader

Chapters: 8/9

Chapter 8

( @brughy @strange-birdy-me @gigabats @smuggsy @papyblook )

#please do heed the warnings on the fic because this is where they come in. this is the angst chapter 😭#I'll be honest this one's a little dark. dark and sad #so I completely understand if you want to give this a miss (and I am sorry 😩) I maintain that there’s a happy ending though #I’m nervous to post this; not only because it’s my first post after my mental health issues but also because of what happens in it 🙃#I've had this planned since the beginning but still #but oh well I hope someone enjoys it anyway #just one more chapter to go 🥲 (and then let’s be real it’s onward to the Carl smutfic 🥴)#my writing #wwdits deacon

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rapono-writes-stuff · 10 months

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Tempted to write a one off spiderverse fic but too scared of making the characters ooc.

#I've devoured basically every fic currently available that's to my taste and I'm still craving more #But my fear of being ooc is what often stops me from writing for certain fandoms #because I'm not always confident enough in my take #But yeah I've reread this one fic like 10 times already and want more so badly #sorry I'm just rambling in the tags #im a multi fandom writer but I've been doing a terrible job at writing anything other than pizza tower lately #But that how it do be sometimes #anyways enough rambling time to submit post #the movie was good and i am enjoy

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flowerflamestars · 2 years

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The Rolling in the Graves snippet

There was nothing to say- just sunlight, spilling from his skin, copper fire bloody bright, like sunset, like one last hurrah- Blind, Lucien reached up. Offered. And after a long minute, making a noise that might have been agitation, if Lucien couldn’t also hear an edge that said laughter- Nesta took his hand. Just barely. Fingertip to fingertip, linking together to squeeze and then gone. “They got married,” Nesta said, suddenly. “They- they run a shop, in the Great Market. Handmade garments. They”- her voice wavered, and Lucien wished, terribly, he could hold her hand again, if only for a second, “Made this dress, actually.” Lucien cleared his throat. Managed, gravel, “I like the color.” Another pause, longer. Lucien wondered if he were being measured for trust- or if it was just that Nesta was unused to speaking to anyone, about what mattered. What was real, as much as he was. Lucien would have cut out his own tongue before he spoke of Eris in truth, to the fucking Court of Night. “Emerie makes the dye,” Nesta said, barely audible. “They called the color Valkyrie.” “Bluer than blue, nigh, death on high, the valkyrie,” Lucien quoted, nearly as quiet. Pressed his head back against the stone and listened, what kept him present, to the rustle of Nesta’s dress. Broke their silent pact and twisted, to see she’d tucked her knees close to her body, arms crossed tight over shins, practically disappearing into the dim sky. “Poetry, Vanserra?” Nesta muttered, face hidden. Gods damn and burn them all. “If Beron didn’t educate me to the standard of the rest,” Lucien said, falsely light, “Was as good as admitting defeat.” The turn of her head sent hair tumbling between them- no longer so damp as it had been when she arrived, but still shining dark. “And that education included poetry?” “I love poetry,” Lucien admitted. “Tam- Tamlin burnt everything I left in Spring. Seized all my assets. I had a book of poems- songs- it belonged to my great-grandmother and the bastard lit it on fire.” A breath, not quite a laugh, but indignant answer all the same. “What else did you learn?” “Stories.” Lucien grinned. “Magic. Dueling and economics and trade. High Fae tend to protect their children, viciously. Shield them. I kept running away to other Courts.” There had been no one to protect him- his mother had tried- Eris had been there- but there was always going to be a limit, to what could possibly shield Sorcha Vanserra’s seventh son from Beron’s wrath.

“I wanted to run away,” Nesta said, sharp and brittle as glass. “Elain and I- we’d talk about stealing a ship. Sailing away before our betrothal contracts were signed.” “Nesta Archeron,” Lucien whispered. A terrifying, precocious blue-eyed child who already resented the limits of her station, the expectations of her gender, “Pirate Queen?” “It was never possible.” She could have picked up that beautiful, keening sword forged of her own feeling and cut through the wards- through the world. Let go of the power, banked and fractured inside her, and killed everything in every direction as far away as the next continent. She could have walked the woods and found the Weaver’s spindle, taken up a whole new tapestry to shape eternity. She wouldn’t- couldn’t- with the cost too high, alone. Nesta Archeron had been shoved down many times she expected it, and it broke Lucien’s heart.

#brought to you from my couch I have not moved from in days #the second I have a fever: just a gremlin capable of doing nothing but lurid writing and reading every jason todd fic on ao3 #anyway: MARRIED VALKYRIES!#Lucien IS that bitch is many ways #but in particular #as a hot young thing running around picking up competency #Nesta got her friends out at great personal cost yall #Nesta Archeron knowing her birthday will be all about some stupid party Mor + Feyre planned #and nothing she actually enjoys #or with people she likes #ringing in a new year of her life in a pretty new dress drinking on a roof with Lucien #the real heartbreak of where canon ends #is despite power and magic and literal immmortality #all the Archeron sisters are doomed to exact fate of their mortal childhood #Nesta just like grits her teeth and bares it and dies by inches #because she thinks she was stupid to ever expect love #meanwhile Lucien: I am your FRIEND Archeron please please let me be your friend #it's almost like genuine companionship that isn't fundamentally about sex or power is like #the rarest thing in any sjm story #the rolling in the graves #the Lucien/Nesta agenda is seared into my soul now actually

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