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mothdruid · 1 day

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Within the past 72 hours the TGM fandom got a fire put under it's ass, for lack of a better term/phrase. Even though I'm not as active in the fandom anymore, it did make me want to talk about a few things. This isn't the first time that I've had to make a post similar to this, usually speaking about reblogs and keeping your fanfic writers feeling wanted within the fandom spaces, but today I'm going to talk more about fandom etiquette and my experiences in fandom spaces. So, if you want to hear my opinion on fandom etiquette, how I learned fandom etiquette, and my thoughts about the doxing situation that has happened, keep on reading.

My Fandom Experience.

The first fandom that I was ever a part of was The Hunger Games fandom in the 8th grade (if you don't include my anime fandoms). I was 12-13 at the time. This was when I was first introduced to Tumblr and being involved within a fandom online. At the time I was super young, barely even knew who I was as a person, let alone in a fandom space. All I did was reblog little gifsets and fawn over Josh Hutcherson. I remember getting my first hate anon, even though I didn't do anything that would generate that to even happen. Even when I was 12-13, I couldn't understand why anyone would send a hate anon. That was when I found out a friend of mine found my Tumblr and actually secretly hated me, so she sent me hate anons. Still, before I knew it was her I didn't understand.

Fandoms were a formative part of my childhood. I think that main one that helped form me though was the Supernatural (yeah, I know, eye roll), Naruto, and The Hobbit fandoms. I had made friends on Tumblr and Instagram through these fandoms. During these times was when I had first started consuming fanfiction. Specifically, destiel and thilbo fanfiction. This is how I started to find the things in fanfiction that I loved, and the things that I hated. Instead of sending hate to the writers for their thoughts and stories that I didn't agree with, I would back out of the story or just scroll past. Not only that, I also started to use the filters on AO3 constantly, ensuring that I was only reading the fics that I knew I'd enjoy. Also, I was careful to read warnings and tags prior to reading the fic. Never once did I blame the writer for something that I knew I didn't like and accidentally read or read for see what it was about.

After high school was when I started getting into fanfiction writing. I've written for a lot of fandoms during this time. The IT movies, Total Drama, Haikyuu, Attack on Titan, Marvel, Bridgerton, Top Gun: Maverick, and currently ASOIAF. As a writer I've never gotten hate, thankfully, but I have had a lot of friends that have. It's sad to see so many people who take the time to write, whether it's enjoyable or not, receive hate. As writers we are simply expressing our creativity for the things that we love. Since posting fanfiction on tumblr, I have experienced a lot of people pestering for new updates and when the next fic is, and so have a lot of other writers on here. Even though people only know us as a little icon and username, fanfiction writers are people. We have lives outside of writing fanfiction. Everyone also isn't the same type writer. One person may easily write multiple fics every week, some of us take longer, and some of us are even just passion writers (me lol).

The TGM fandom has been one of the most negative fandom experiences I've ever seen/had. It is full of some of the meanest people/anons I've ever seen. From writers being attacked for fic ideas, people being sent hate for something that the anon has full control over, and people constantly expecting new stories to read on the daily. Yes, I do know that other fandoms have these issues, but it seems to be almost a weekly, hell, even daily thing within this fandom. A lot of the issues that I see happen in this fandom are from people who don't understand fandom etiquette.

Fandom Etiquette.

If you had noticed there was a few things I put in bold above. These are key things that I learned during my time that attribute to fandom etiquette. So without further a do, I'll list out some fandom etiquette rules that I follow all the time.

Don't send hate anons to people

Block/unfollow people you don't like

If you don't like an idea or fic, don't read it

Read through all warnings and tags that the writer provided

Use AO3 filters

Don't blame the writer/creator for reading things they created that you actively know you don't like

Writers/Creators aren't "content farms"

There are people behind these blogs/usernames, treat them like someone you'd see on the street

Writers/Creators are expressing love/passion for something, don't hate them for doing that

If you see something fandom related that you don't like, scroll past it or ignore it

YOU CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE (ESPECIALLY ON TUMBLR)

The Doxing Situation.

For those who are unaware but decided to read this anyways, recently there was a writer (Mama Mayhem) on here who got doxed from another writer in the fandom. Mayhem has since lost her job due to the doxing. This was apparently from her breaking HIPAA by posting a picture into a private groupchat/discord. This picture was posted almost a half year ago. Meaning that the person who reported/doxed Mayhem had known about this picture for months and only recently decided to do something about it.

I'll start by saying that I also work in healthcare, and know many other people here who do. I understand that a HIPAA violation is 100% an offense that gets you fired. I'm not excusing the HIPAA violation if one did occur.

Some people have brought up the idea that maybe the person that reported the picture, and doxed Mayhem, was doing it out of the goodness of their heart. Due to the timeline of it all, that doesn't seem likely. I had a previous coworker get fired for HIPAA violations and it took a total of a week from the initial report for her to be gone.

The biggest thing I want to convey is that TWO WRONGS CAN HAPPEN AT THE SAME TIME. Yes, if Mayhem violated HIPAA, it is wrong. But at the same time, the person held onto this information for months only to use it out of spite, pettiness, and cruelty, is wrong.

My Thoughts.

Due to Mayhem being doxed, a lot of people have decided to leave this platform, take indefinite hiatuses, stop writing, or move to AO3 exclusively., and I don't blame them. I'll be honest, I'm thinking about moving to AO3 exclusively now. AO3 feels a lot more rewarding in my experience. I already only post my fics for ships to AO3, so why not just post everything on AO3 (which I usually do).

I think a lot of people have forgot what it feels like to feel shame in something they say or do. When I say this, it's directed towards people who send hate or do other malicious things in fandom spaces. Fandoms were never this clique-ish and mean. I think it has to do with the pandemic, meaning that a lot of people who would have never joined a fandom did because they weren't allowed to do anything outside of their house. So, those mean girls that made fun of fandom girlies (g/n) previously, joined the fandoms and decided started bullying the people within them.

This situation is super shitty and people are now scared. It makes complete sense, especially after seeing someone, that many of you were close to, be doxed. A lot of people are scared of it happening to them now. I don't think this fandom will be the same after this situation, but who knows, maybe everyone will just forget and move on. Either way, I think I'll be taking a step back from the TGM fandom. I'll still be here, but until further notice, I won't be posting any TGM fanfiction. Maybe a gifset/picture here and there, but I don't think this is a fandom I feel comfortable writing for anymore.

If you've read all of this, thank you.

#moth talks #here it is #sorry it's so long but i couldn't convey my thoughts any other way

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aroadcalledsobriety · 1 year

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Here's to Us | A Stranger Things FanFiction

Chapter 3

First | Prev | Next

Flickering lights and a blonde with a nose bleed sends Joan Destiny back in time to 1985 as Joan Agatha, supposedly her aunt whose existence she had never heard about before. A fan of Back to the Future and Doctor Who, Joan knows how changing the course of the future could end for her, so she decides to act the part - no matter how hard it can be. Between Russians, drug dealers, and interdimensional monsters Joan is left with one question...

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴊᴏᴀɴ ᴀɢᴀᴛʜᴀ? ¿ɐɥʇɐɓ∀ uɐoſ oʇ pǝuǝddɐɥ ʇɐɥM

"Is this why uncle Steve is called uncle Steve?!" Joan hissed out loud in horror, the thought of having to kiss - or worse - her uncle being almost too much to bare. A groan escaped her lips as she plopped into her rickety wooden desk chair and tossed the picture back onto her desk. "Why him of all the Steve's?!"

"Are you still upset about your break up with Steve?" Dustin seemed to appear out of nowhere in her room, inevitability scaring the shit out of the older teen and sending her into panic. Her rather pitiful reaction was ignored by her brother. "Because me too. I wanted Steve to be my brother after you graduated by marriage so that he could never escape me, but you had to ruin it."

"Me?!"

Dustin rolled his eyes and it occurred to her sliver of amusement that everyone was right about her dad having toned down over the years with his mischief and teasing ways. "Yes, you." His hand waved up and down towards Joan in emphasis, as if her whole body was the problem.

"Whatever you did for Steve to break up with you at the beginning of summer you should take it back. Immediately. I want my nieces and nephews to have glorious hair."

"Why are you in my room, twerp?" Joan decided to ignore the Steve problem for now. It was such a relief to find that no she was not dating her future-uncle, but still made her feel icky that she once did date her future-uncle. "Don't you have friends or something?"

Dustin had decided this was an invite to further invade her space - Joan was missing the beauty of being the only child with a door lock at this point - and plopped down onto her admittedly pretty floral bed. Unconsciously, her hand dove into her pocket to pull out her phone, but to her horror she realized that this was 1980-whatever, no cell phones much less smartphones until much much later.

"That's why I've come to invade your room." Dustin said seriously towards his sister. Joan crossed her arms and raised an eyebrows if saying go on. "I have a proposition worth your time and energy."

"Proposition?" God her dad was the same person even as a tiny little shit.

"Yes." Dustin snapped and pointed at his sister with both hands as if he were a salesman. Honestly, he could have been one.. or be one? "You drive me to Mike's house tonight and you can join us in our campaign, just like you used to. Will said you can be the cleric and since we're only a few sessions in, you can quickly reach our skill levels in no time-."

"Dustin, you don't have to bribe me to take you to your friends." Joan interrupted with a roll of her eyes. She eyed the kid with a smirk and crossed her arms over her chest at the look of incredulous on his face as he walked over and matched her arms over his own chest.

"...Who are you and what have you done to my sister?" Dustin said seriously with narrowed eyes. Joan's heart skipped a beat, definitely skipped a beat, at the accusation and swallowed thickly. "Why are you being so nice?" Was she not usually nice?

Was that why they never talked about the Henderson sister in the future?

"Is it because of Steve?" Joan rolled her eyes and stood up form her chair, ignoring the child and left the bedroom, hoping her response was enough for Dustin. Dustin quickly followed beside the girl, not bothered by the attitude once again. "Do you feel upset about my older man friend breaking up with you, so you're hoping that by being on my good side I'll put a good word in for you so that you and Steve-o can become a thing once again? Because that would totally work and I have-!"

"Jesus, Dustin, do you ever shut up for more than 5 minutes?!" Joan moaned out, already finding the younger version of her father insufferable. Now back in the kitchen she turned towards Dustin and grabbed him by the shoulders firmly, Dustin wisely shut up now that hands made contact with his body. "Look, I-I'm over Steve, it's not a big deal, so stop bringing it up-."

"But, you guys were-!"

"-shut up or I won't drive you anywhere for the rest of the month." Joan hissed out and Dustin nodded his head quickly with wide eyes. She sighed, closing her eyes and counting to three. "I'm taking you to Mike's on one condition only."

When she was sure she had Dustin's attention, Joan backed away slowly and Dustin stayed nearly frozen in his spot waiting for whatever his sister wanted from him so he could get to his friend's house.

"Leave me in peace for the weekend."

"Deal." Dustin agreed quickly before scrambling to his room to get his things, calling out his wake, "I'll be ready in T minus five minutes!" Joan rolled her eyes and looked at the mirror on the hallway wall with a frown.

It was definitely her body staring back at her. From the tiny scar on her forehead from when she was 12 and thought she could jump from the roof of her house to the nearby tree, to the weird freckle below her chin, and down to the pimple she felt this morning on her temple... quickly, Joan made her way to her bedroom and hurriedly went through her closet for anything but what she had on currently.

"Dad! Watch how far I can jump!"

"How far you can what-? Oh shit!"

"I-is it okay if my leg bends this way?!"

"O-oh sweet Jesus..."

She looked in horror at the cheer outfits and bright colors littering here closet, trying find anything with a neutral tone or not made of jean to throw on, but none glance at her a photo next to her close of her wearing neon made Joan want to throw up. She settled with high waisted jeans and an atrociously yellow crop top before stepping out to find her, uh, mother.

"Uh, mom?" The woman wasn't hard to find with her cats onto of her in front of the boxed television set and Joan tried to take in the scene around her. The home wasn't too different from her time, but there were significantly more photos of the mystery sister that was Joan Agatha Henderson. "I'm taking Dustin to uh, where am I taking you?!" Joan hollered out to Dustin, already forgetting where they were going.

"Jesus, woman. I'm right here." Dustin complained, rubbing his right ear where Joan and turned to yell. Joan rolled her eyes, gesturing to their mom. "We're going to Mike's house."

"Alright, sweeties. Keys on the counter. Drive safe and be home by 11:00, both of you!"

The brother and sister rushed out after their goodbyes and Joan slowed down to watch which car Dustin would go to and followed him to the older one of the two. Unlocking the old metal car, Joan quickly wished a black hole would swallow her whole.

Stick shift.

She could do this, right?

"Break, ignition, clutch.."

"You got your license a month ago and you already forgot how to drive?!" Dustin called out incredulously as the car stalled and he watched his sister whisper the instructions to herself as she tried again.

"Shut up, dork!" Joan snapped with a red face. "I-I know how to drive, okay!?"

"Then why aren't you clutch to floorboard?!" Dustin snapped back, pointing down at her feet in emphasis. There was a tense silence between the two before Dustin let out a huff of air and sat back in his seat. "Press the clutch to the floorboard."

"What?"

"Clutch to floorboard! Jesus, woman! Are you deaf?!"

"Tiny little shit..."

"Turn the key... break... shift the gear, no no, shit, no, like that! Are you trying to kill us?!"

The irony of this was that here she was being taught how to drive by her dad for the second time and he was just as stressful half the size as he was full size. But, just like when she first started driving, Joan was quick to pick it up, both Hendersons throwing their arms up in excitement with a matching whoop!

With a grin, Joan peeled out of the driveway and followed Dustin's instructions to Mike's houses, ignoring his jabs at how could she forget how to drive and his friend's house? She paused at the familiar two story home.

She had been here only a few time for birthday parties and a sleep over or two, but indeed there it was. Ryan and Harry Wheeler's grandparents had lived here all their lives and since her dad and their dad were childhood best friends, it wasn't an abnormal thing for her to be over here on the occasional Fourth of July or birthday party.

"Are you going to come in?" Dustin popped up at her open window, sending her heart to beat sporadic once again. "Seriously dude? You're going to get scared every time you see me from now on? That hurts."

"Oh shut up, you dork." Joan snapped out, turning off the car and getting out. There was such much more she hadn't seen and didn't know... the house was so much nicer than the decades that would come after it. "Who's, uh, DMing for you guys?"

"Will, duh." Dustin replied with a roll of his eyes and knocking the secret knock. "We're going to finish this before I go off to camp next month so that there's no long break in between campaigns. That's not fun for anyone."

"You're telling me." Joan snorted, thinking back to the last time they kept a campaign throughout the Christmas break before the club discovered and her notes were terrible. It was a disaster and they had to scrap the whole play and start over again with the same world build, much to everyone's annoyance.

"What would you know? You haven't played since you decided you were too cool for the nerd shit." His hands did a mocking form of quotations even though he had his arms full.

"Just, uh, sympathy, I guess."

"Yeah, whatever, it's-."

The door opened and Dustin wasted no time shoving himself inside towards the basement with shouts of, "I brought the goods, I repeat, I brought the goods!" leaving Joan to blink with wide eyes as a mess of raven hair quickly followed Dustin down the stairs. The teen closed the front door slowly before making her way down the basement stairs as if she was on auto pilot.

It was surreal.

Chattering around the table were all of her dad's friends minus a few and she stared with wide eyes at her own friend's parents acting like children. It wasn't the attitude that through her off guard, they always acted childish, but the looks of them that made it so unsettling.

"Shut up, Lucas! You got the corner piece last time, it's my turn!"

"They're brownies! They're should be like four corner pieces!"

"Yeah, well, my mom and bitch of a sister already ate three of them. I'm pretty sure she was high."

"Joan got high?!"

"No way, dude."

"Yeah." Dustin nodded rapidly with a look of seriousness on his face and brownie crumbs littering his chin. "Mom's like, super pissed. I think she's addicted to cocaine."

"Nah, she's a cheerleader, man! There's no way, I think it would be weed."

Joan felt her eye twitch from her spot on the stairs, staring down at the group of four and tried to use Kaleigh's powers to flip tables and choke the shit out of her brother. But alas, she was not special.

Brynnyn looked just like her father, Joan mused at the miniature Uncle Lucas arguing about whether or not she did cocaine or weed. The army definitely gave him some muscles over the years and he still had that confrontational, offense attitude that was passed onto his daughter.

"She doesn't even smoke cigarettes, guys." Mike Wheeler interrupted with a roll of his eyes and a scoff. "There's no way that Aniza the Good would even touch a blunt or powder."

If she ever got out of here, she was giving Mr. Wheeler a huge hug and birthday card.

"She hasn't played in, like, three years. She's probably changed a lot." Will said matter-of-factly, yet quietly. The statement was fair, Joan supposed, but it still bothered her that these group of boys who would soon be family thought that she was a drug addict.

"I'm telling you assholes. I watched her wipe her nose and everything! I'm pretty sure there was a little bit of white dust there too and I don't think it was from powdered donuts, if you know what I mean."

"No, Dust-bin. I don't understand." Joan stepped down the stairs, making herself known and relishing in the unmasked horror on the little twerps' faces. Arms crossed, she towered over the boys with narrowed eyes, landing on the other Henderson. "Please do tell me what your bitch of a sister did?"

"Oh shit."

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dancedance-resolution · 9 months

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i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?

---

Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.

“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”

At that moment, Kara saw the painting.

She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.

Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.

Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.

It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”

Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.

“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.

“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”

Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.

“What’s the title?”

The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”

---

Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.

Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.

At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.

She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.

The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.

The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.

With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.

---

The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.

But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.

Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.

---

The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.

She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.

The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.

A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.

Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.

They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.

While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.

Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”

The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.

“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.

Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”

“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.

Kara watched her every step.

Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.

---

There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.

After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.

---

Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.

Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.

---

Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.

#again i have no intention of finishing so be forewarned etc #supergirl #supercorp poalof au #i have been feeling a bit weird going through my old work bc. i don't think i've really improved in the three years since starting this???#and i quite literally haven't written anything in 2023 other than like the 1000ish words to finish up this final chapter of tree of my song #&those thousand words genuinely feel worse than my old writing #because i'm out of practice i think #it's weird bc writing is something i think of as super important to me - like in less than a month i'll literally be at community college a #ain despite how bad my experience was last time with it bc i theoretically want to take classes that will make me a better writer #so like blah blah blah do i want to dedicate more of myself and my energy towards writing long term or do i just like the idea of being a #writer.#blah blah blah if i had to do a rose colored glasses on this all it would be. since january i have read 60something books and before this y #ar i hadnt been an avid reader in ages. and most of those books have been in the genre/niche i want to end up writing in #so i was learning writing by reading in that sense #hmm etc etc #i should probably stop taking myself and all of this so seriously lol idk #i'm theoretically back into writing and trying to prioritize it more again so (thumbs up emoji)

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elisedonut · 2 months

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sudden itch to write a rare pair fic thats not Percy related

but like

the last time I did that it ended up becoming my top fic and lead to me deciding that you know... actually I hate that ship just out of spite so i'm not sure how good of an idea it is

maybe if i try like femslash or something super super rare with side characters or something

#using tumblr as a diary again #like is it healthy to feel that way?#no it's probably not but knowing that hasn't made the feeling go away in the months sense i posted it lol #like multiple people have asked for more for it but I'm ngl I'm likely never touching that ship again much less the fic itself #like if i even did decide to it would probably just be Percy and Viktor meeting #the whole reason it even became the ship it did was because I couldn't figure out how to write Viktor #But i don't think that's what people mean when they say they want more of it but maybe id be less annoyed if I did add a Percy/Viktor chapt #I feel like this is what those people mean when they talk about posting art you put your all into vs a doodle #because while i spent a hell of a long time procrastinating writing it i was never like actually happy with it #I just kinda wrote and posted it because I was running out of time and wanted to be done with it #which I think is part of why I find it annoying that it has like double the kudo's of everything else but it makes sense that it does #like it's a garbage fic yeah but its the main character and a fan favorite so ofc its going to get more attention #especially in comparison to the niche nonsense I make that I like more #will I ever delete it No I'm fire believer in not deleting things I've made because ive learned in my life i always regret it so #I just have to get better at writing so I can knock it off its horse >:)#or just keep adding extra chapters to Raspberry Muffin until it surpasses it lol #they only have a difference of 64 at the moment so its not impossible #I know im going to see this again in a few years and be so confused on why it bothered me so much i just know it lol

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rosicheeks · 1 month

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10, 27, 50🥰

10. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Nah. Like you said there’s infatuation at first sight.

27. Has someone ever written a song or poem for you?

Yes 😭 I’ve had a few poems sent to me on here either through anon, DMs or posting one and saying I’m the inspiration behind it.

50. If your first true love knocked on your door with apology and presents, would you accept?

That’s pretty complicated lol

#*maybe* if I let my hopeless romantic self take over I think (hope) there could be a spark at first sight?#where you see someone and you feel drawn to them and you have this weird feeling they’re supposed to be in your life??#who knows maybe it’s just in the fairytales but damn I want a fairytale love one day #but I definitely don’t think there’s a thing like love at first sight #love is much more than just seeing someone… I just feel like that’s a shallow way of looking at it? and I don’t mean to disrespect anyone-#who does believe in love at first sight #I just feel like it takes time to fully love someone #I feel like to love someone means to truly know the person - to take the time to learn them as a person and to learn the good and the bad #and to fall in love with the whole person #I truly still can not believe people have taken the time to write me a poem #I genuinely get a little teary eyed whenever I think about it #I have a notebook (I lost it during the move but I’m sure it’s in one of the boxes) that I keep and write down any poem or sweet message #that I receive and then when I have a bad day I can look back at them #if I don’t find it soon I’m gonna start a new one cause I miss having that pick me up #LOL #that last question #I truly truly don’t even know how to answer that #short and simple answer sure I’d accept the apology but we wouldn’t get back together #a little side note I have a tiny feeling that it wasn’t true love but who knows #anywayyyyyyy thank you so much for the questions!#ngl I fell asleep shortly after I reblogged this and then the rest of the day I forgot about it 🤦🏽‍♀️#but better late than never right? 😂#ask

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grimgummies · 3 months

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YIPPEE MORTIS ANGST!!! :D

HELLO you want to see my poor son suffering,, Enduring the worst times of his life,, Dealing with everything he was put through on his own cuz he had literally NOBODY to go to

Because if so...

So do I lol

#Grim answers #Y'all I got so much Mortis lore I'm stuck between wanting to do things in order or just exploring random snippets of his life #I prolly won't touch on his childhood because like he had shitty parents and the idea of drawing that kinda stuff saddens me :(#(Also I don't have a kid Mortis design lol)#How would y'all feel about me just dropped Mortis lore occasionally in the form of text posts pff #I kinda need to update y'all anyway because I recently revamped his story #But there's one thing I can't decide on and it's whether he grew up in Italy or in Mexico #Ye he's Italian and Mexican (Italian mother Mexican father)#I was stuck on the country because I myself am Italian so I understand the culture better and I even went to Italy when I was younger #But Mexico is closer to America which would justify why his family moved there better I think #I lowkey wanted to base his family's experience on my own grandfather since he was an Italian immigrant (except he moved to Australia)#But I also want to try and write a character that has a stronger connection to a cultural background I don't quite understand so I can-#learn more about it #Y'know I feel like us Italians get enough rep anyways pff #Even then Mortis is still Italian AND Mexican #But ofc depending on whether he grew up in Italy or Mexico would influence which culture he was closer to since it would be the one-#surrounding him and his family #Like how I grew up in Australia #My family still held the Italian 'values' but I wasn't quite as knowledgeable on the culture #Not until I grew up and learned about it myself and from my dad at least #So ye still deciding

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citrine-elephant · 1 year

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what if zane just had implants in his brain to make him think faster (on account of how fast he can move and process the battlefield)

but it was just that meme of "i'm stupid, FASTER"

#borderlands #why did i only think of this like... 3 years later #legit consideration tho... part of my brain still wants to imagine him as a very smart hyper-genius dude #but in lore he's not genius levels #maybe out of impatience #but could we consider he's actually got some literacy problems #im in no way shaming btw!#it's just interesting to think since he was born on pandora #maybe just consider he has a lot of issues writing and sometimes with reading #like he did better than someone like captain but he still struggles #the idea moxxi/marcus had about presenting someone else to fool your enemies #and under/overestimate you #like how apparently he refuses to take baths #just presents himself as this cold and clean genius badass #but he's got adhd and he's stinky and has some learning difficulties #again no shame in it i try to be aware of that with myself + not shaming intelligence #please let me know if i'm saying the wrong things #the post wasn't even about intelligence but i gotta tag-ramble lol #*technically wasn't. memes but was thinking more of processing faster like a computer

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solradguy · 1 year

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I can speak any of the Romance languages just fine but for some god forsaken reason I CANNOT speak French like what the fuck is a bourgeoisie and why can’t I say it correctly for the life of me.

Yeah, French is pretty tricky... Figuring out what letters to pronounce is difficult and I can do the sounds for it in my head when I think I've figured it out (sort of) but my mouth lacks the flexibility to do them out loud haha

A long while ago I read Les Fleurs du Mal, and my copy is dual-language with the original French on the left page and an English translation on the right, and it drove me nuts that I didn't know how to read the sounds for the French so I read a crash course guide for it. It helped a lot once I realized that a good portion of the letters that aren't pronounced in a French word function similarly to an accented character in that it's there only to modify the sounds of the letters near it than to contribute in a major way to the overall sound of the word itself. My native Germanic language (English) brain really wants all of those letters to be doing something up-front instead rofl

Though, English also has its special words with sneaky little helper letters that aren't pronounced... ("sovereign...")

#asks #I dipped my toes into Gaelic and Welsh once upon a time and when I read about the letter pronunciation I was like #'Oh! French uses letters like this! Those must be from its Gaulish roots'#I LOVE the interconnectedness of languages. It's one of my favorite things to read about #Humans want to talk to each other and share cultures so much!!#Twirling my hair and kicking my feet thinking about Nordic traders learning languages in southern parts of Europe to trade with its people #So far from home and a language so different from their own...#God even just the traders and traveling people and cultures within just China alone. It's a diverse place!!#AND THE INTERNET!! I wish my Japanese writing skills were better so I could more efficiently communicate with my-#-Japanese Twitter mutuals...#Isn't it incredible how we're some of the first people in ALL OF HUMAN HISTORY that can feasibly maintain-#-friendships with people on the other side of the planet thousands and thousands of miles away...#Hundreds of thousands of years of human existence and only in these last 35 can we now do that #Ok I need to go get work done now lol This ask activated me

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theultracharmingladynoire · 1 year

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something something about how the rings not just symbolised Yuuri and Victor's bond and was not just an omamori for them something something Victor was the first person Yuuri wanted to hold on to and share his dreams with and depend on after fighting for so long ALONE something something the rings symbolising this exact same thing something something about how Yuuri's arc still is wonderful even when he didn't win the gold because he finally learnt to actually depend on people, share his dreams and aims with them and not fight alone which is something he struggles with for the whole show

#yuri on ice ///#I am not sure about how to intrepret the whole of yuuri's arc but that's purely because I've watched the show only once #It always felt a bit off to me when the whole winning gold was a bit rushed in the last episode #And of course you could blame that on the pacing and you could say that there was flaws in the writing/the writers got confused #I've seen multiple posts about it and while I personally disagree I do think it is a valid interpretation #But I want to work with what DID happen in canon so I can be at peace with the episode lol #I choose to intrepret his arc as being one where he learns to not beat himself up over his failures (In lack of a better way to phrase it)#His anxiety plays a huge factor in it too though #One could argue that maybe winning gold would've given him that final push in believing that he is in fact extraordinary and not just #A dime a dozen skater (and I think that would have been wonderful too!)#And yeah they could have made him win gold AND have him not retire! But I don't think what we got in canon is inherently bad writing #(I mean excluding the scoring which from what I hear was inaccurate? But it doesn't bother me because Idk anything about scoring lmao)#Or maybe it's because this is a lesson I personally am struggling to learn and accept - that regardless of whether you win or not you #can and should strive to be better and better without losing hope #also a bit related to this but to me the emotional climax in the finale was actually Yuuri's free skate and him breaking the record #It was what further cemented my #thoughts about Yuuri's arc being about him and his need to be satisfied with his skating regardless of winning or losing #also fyi the takes I talked about aren't inherently ones I came across lol I just was thinking of various counter points #The whole reason I am writing this si because I want to understand this whole thing myself gdishsjshdh so writing it down seems like a good #thing #n rambles #Also hopefully this post doesn't show up in tags djsbdjbdjd

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galarfiend · 2 years

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studying volo’s character and i think really all ive got so far is that he is a deeply troubled man who fucked around and found out and now doesn’t really know what to do with himself

#volo #if i can figure out how to write a villian redemption arc…. expect fancomics #i think his main flaw is that he lets hos curiosity lead him into places he shouldn’t be. find knowledge he shouldnt know #and that everburning curiousity turns into an obsession with learning more about whatever hes interested in.#and then comes in his other flaw-#which is that he doesnt think of other people. he learns there may be a way to start from scratch and end everyones suffering-#and thinks hes being benevolent to the people around him by doing this #when really he just thought of what HE wanted (a better world) and thought it would be the same for everyone else #theres nothing wrong with him not being an empathetic person. its that he still lets his emotions guide him instead of thinking first #i worry about him but its not like hes just a victim of circumstances #he did this to himself and he did this to hisui and now he has to recognize that he is flawed #and maybe do something about it #this is just my first draft tell me of you disagree with one of my tags lol #i’ll have to fully replay the game and take notes as i go and then i think i’ll get a better grasp on ‘im #but for now. yeah

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cloudblaze · 2 years

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I'm not even upset that Brambleclaw is being awful. I love reading about his fall from grace. He was a respectable warrior against all odds, until he let his fears about never being accepted get mixed up with his pride and turn into some sort of superiority complex that Hawkfrost is purposefully feeding and manipulating. It's fascinating.

(I do wish this arc didn't end with him getting rewarded though.)

#squirrelflight is a little mean in starlight but extends the olive branch several times bc she wants to fix their friendship #brambleclaw blows up at her every time and then spends the next book going out of his way to annoy her and make her feel small #i really hate watching squirrelflight descend into anxiety and low self esteem over the course of the series too #not in a ''thats bad writing'' way. actually it's stunning how real that progression feels #more just... it hurts a lot to see her get beaten down over time like this while the guy hurting her gets glorified #brambleclaw's whole deal would've felt a lot better if he'd died or learned and grown from his mistakes #and for goodness' sake. if he and squirrelflight had stayed broken up #if you repeatedly treat someone terribly and never take them seriously then you don't deserve to date them i'm sorry #damn what if he and hawkfrost had killed each other. i don't remember much of sunset so idk what else to say about that lmao #just a thought i had suddenly #i have...... a lot of thoughts about them. i didn't think about it at all when i first read this series #bc i didn't have the interest in literary analysis that i have now. so i have a lot of thoughts to catch up on lol

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noxtivagus · 2 years

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PEOPLE ARE SO INTERESTING

#🌙.rambles #hi 2 am rambles but tonight i am loving life #dear diary (lol) i am tired n i have lost a lot of energy after this very good day n i will sleep soon #bro idk what i'm writing rn i just ate a cookie n thought about people #cookie.... i am so full rn it's a big cookie 😭😭 it's so delicious though. i really want to learn how to bake someday #but i wonder. i was wondering how you all perceive me here #bcs looking at a mix of who i am in discord. tumblr. twitter. spotify. all those have differences imo #discord you'd see the way i text with others? the things i share. the things i send. the words i say #personally for me reflecting on the things i often say to ppl n it serves as a reaffirmation honestly that i genuinely am kind at heart #i love telling others kind things. that makes me happy. saying good morning n good night n take care n sleep well n rest well #i just find it so interesting. everything. i think about so much things in life on a daily basis #and if anyone were to really. reach close enough to the deepest parts of me #there's a lot of pain definitely but i think someone would see a girl filled with so much love for life #i'm getting off-topic but god i am constantly so confused n lost but i still am strong. i'm proud of who i am. of my mindset #i love who i am. i love the things i desire. and the way i work towards my goals #and not just me. for everyone else. i'm gna cry #i already am 🥹 it often hurts bcs i'm really so. i feel very deeply #so when i. when i struggle n feel so alone it hurts me so much because at times it gets so hard to break out of that even tho i know better #there's so much to love about life but there's so little time too #maybe in my head i can be a little too idealistic at times but. at the same time i know i've gone through so much pain already #that feeling of betrayal. of being forgotten. left behind. god i'm crying even more remembering about all those nights #so. as long as i hold unto myself. unto everything i have ever loved. that will spur me onwards. that i may forge ahead unto tomorrow #the same things i analyze of myself like. the things i said at first here. i think of everyone else as well #how would it be like to live life through your own eyes? with your thoughts and experiences and emotions?#you see. there's really so much to life. and that's what i always remember when i feel like dying #like genuinely i have. felt so. down and sad that i have thought about it. wishing i could just. but i don't want. anyone to worry #my love for the people in my life kept me going when i hated myself so much #god n i. i'm crying so much wait. that's why i want to give so much kindness to others too #i'm crying. i love the night so much bcs i love being open and authentic like this so much but most of the time i get afraid honestly

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aroadcalledsobriety · 1 year

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Here's to Us | A Stranger Things FanFiction

Chapter 2

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ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴊᴏᴀɴ ᴀɢᴀᴛʜᴀ? ¿ɐɥʇɐɓ∀ uɐoſ oʇ pǝuǝddɐɥ ʇɐɥM

24 May 1985 Hawkins, Indiana

When Joan woke up the first thing that hit her was the headache.

The second thing was the blinding realization that oh my god she's alive followed by a spaz-attack where she grabbed every part of her body and then finished at her throat, sighing a relief that she was fully intact and fell back on the grassy ground to calm down with the warmth of the sun on her skin.

Only to sit back up again in a panic.

Joan was almost positive that Hawkins had been nearing winter when she had last been awake with crunchy leaves already on the ground and dozens of assignments piling up amongst her classes. Anxiously, the girl stood up and brushed off her skirt, scowling that of all the days for something weird to go down she had to look so stupidly proper.

"Joan? Joan?!"

"Grandma?" Joan asked in confusion looking behind her at the voice and pushing herself off the ground to trek over. The familiar home from the 70's on a hill filled her vision within a few seconds and she frowned, pausing with a weird feeling crawling up her back. "Where are her roses...?"

The screened back door quickly slammed open and Joan's eyes widened in shock at the woman who eyed her in relief. "Oh, good heavens Joan! You gave me a scare. You know I don't like you hanging in those woods alone."

Her mouth bobbed open and closed, but Joan could speak no words. The woman in front of her looked just like her dad's mom but from, like, 30 years ago!

"O-oh, what the fuck." Joan whispered in horror, taking a step back and looking at her grandma stare at her in concern. "T-this is really trippy."

"Joan Henderson, are you high right now?!"

"Woah, Joan's high? I want to see, I want to see!" Out from behind Joan's grandma pushed out a face that Joan had only seen in pictures. A chubby face and curly hair that she was always envious of and mischievous eyes that never changed throughout the decades...

"Dad?!"

There was a silence at the exclamation and the two familiar yet unfamiliar Henderson's stared wide eyed at the teen girl as if she had sprouted wings ands started flying. Dustin, her dad, broke first as a wide grin filled his face and he pointed over at the girl.

"Holy shit, you're high as a fucking kite, Jo'!"

"What the fuck, no I'm not!"

"Uh, yeah the fuck you are!"

"Dustin Joseph Henderson and Joan Agatha Henderson!" The matriarch screeched out, appalled at the language and behavior from the two teens. Both of them flinched at the sound and looked back at the woman apologetically.

"S-sorry, mom."

"Sorry, uh-?" Joan trailed off, unsure what to say because there was no way in hell this was her dad... at least not yet, right? What the fuck was going on?!

"You two... I swear..." Mrs. Henderson huffed angrily, pointing inside with a manicure finger and glaring at both teens harshly. "Inside, both of you. Dinner is ready and the table is set..."

Joan followed Dustin inside hesitantly, quickly catching up to her dad(?) who nudged her as soon as they were inside and away from the woman. She frowned down at the mischievous grin, not sure what he was up to. What was she supposed to call him?! "What... do you want?"

"Was it weed?"

"What?"

"Did you smoke weed?" Dustin asked again, this time finishing his sentence by grabbing a fistful of the girl's cardigan and pulling it to his nose with a rather aggressive sniff. He frowned, looking at the fabric in confusion. "You don't smell like weed..." He went in for another sniff, but the fabric was ripped from his grip by a scowling Joan.

"Jesus- stop that!" Joan hissed out, pushing her -whoever the fuck he was- away from her. Whoever this kid was to her... he was not her dad and she didn't care if it was the Queen as a kid... all kids were little shits. "What grade are you in again, third?!"

"Eighth, actually." Dustin responded matter-of-factly with a little lisp, unbothered by the act of aggression and rolling his eyes at the question. Joan nodded, storing the information in her head for later while wiping her nose with her sleeve.

Dustin frowned, stopping in front of his usual chair at the table and staring over at Joan with narrowed eyes, examining her with a wickedly familiar gaze that she'd get whenever her dad was deep in thought, before gasping in horror.

"What?! Is there a spider or something?!"

"Cocaine!"

"What?!" Joan cried out in shock, pausing her search to stare across the table incredulously at the little shit that would one day be her dad. "Cocaine?!"

"Oh sweet Jesus, my sisters a drug addict." Dustin's eyes were still wide, but his voice was even as he grabbed his head and shook it in disbelief. "I shouldn't be shocked, but I am. Why am I shocked?"

"Why are you-?! Shouldn't be shocked? Sister-?!" Joan's brain whirled around quickly, the new information almost overwhelming her as the word sister bounced around in here mind and she stared at her brother? Dad didn't have a sister... right? "Hold on.. drug addict?!"

"And she's still denying that she has a problem... this is an absolute tragedy equivalent to Hamlet."

"Hold on, pause, back it up... what did you just say?"

Dustin cleared his throat and raised his voice, slowing his words down to a point where Joan's eye twitched in annoyance. "You... are... sad... like... Hamlet... which is a play about-."

"Yes, I know what Hamlet is about!"

"Brevity is the soul of wit." Dustin responded with a shrug of his shoulders and Joan scowled, her fist clenching in anger.

"Did you just call me stupid?! From a Shakespeare play?!"

"No, I said-"

"Enough you two." Their mother snapped as she joined the table and patted the wooden surface. Both teens immediately shut their mouths and looked at each other, slowly taking their seats and silently passed the food around.

Joan stole glances at her... brother-dad? she winced at the title, trying to rid herself of the thought as a distant tune of Sweet Home Alabama played in her mind. God, what did Kaleigh do to her? She paused her scooping of carrots in horror as she thought about the fate of the others that were with her.

Did they escape? Were they here with her? Were her children okay?!

"Joan!" Joan jolted up in her seat at the call of her name, snapping over with wide eyes to look at her suspicious, yet worried mother staring at her. "Are you going to pass the carrots or continue staring at them like they're going to jump out at you and eat your face?"

The teen swallowed thickly and passed the carrots in response, her mother's frown deepening and her eyes narrowing. "Are you sure you're not under the influence, Joan because I swear-!"

"She hath more hair than wit." Dustin snickered under his breathe as he scooped a spoonful of food into his mouth and stared over at his sister with dancing eyes. His joy didn't last for too long as a kick to his legs caused him to wince and let out a painful, "Oh, shit!"

"I'll beat thee, but I would infect my hands." Joan hissed out, causing Dustin to look over at his sister with a snarky grin.

"I told you you were a nerd too!"

A nerd, too?!

"What does that mean, you twerp?!"

Dustin waved his hands in the air mockingly, his voice going up a horrendous amount of octaves to imitate Joan's voice. "Oh look at me, I'm Joan Henderson. I'm a cheerleader and I'm too cool to do D anymore. Instead I wave pompoms and pretend like I don't have Lord of the Rings quotes all over my walls. And apparently do drugs! Bleh bleh."

"I'm not a vampire you dork." Joan snorted, even though the imitation was supposed to be an insult, it was hilarious to watch a young version of her dad pretend to be a cheerleader. Plus, it gave her much need information about who his sister was... who she was? "What was the bleh bleh for?"

"You know, when you guys have the dumb shaky things and go bleh bleh before you guys turn into violent monsters, and suck the life and fun out of everyone."

"That's kind of... violent."

"Well, cheerleaders are a different species."

Joan's head shot back as she let out a huge laugh, thinking about what Brynnyn would say to that comment. The brunette agree full heartedly, but the raven-haired girl would have shot out of her seat to passionately rant about the sport of cheerleading.

"Alright you two, settle down and finish your dinner." Their mother rolled her eyes fondly, enjoying the light atmosphere with a smile on her face. "Joan, honey, would you make sure to get a new bag of cat food from the garage?"

"Why can't Dustin do it?" Because I have no idea where it would be!

"Because its Dusty's turn to do dishes."

"Oh, come on!" Dustin wined loudly, hitting his head on the table in disappointment. The boy was quickly reprimanded and then the dinner table was relatively calm and relaxed while Joan tried not let herself freak out on the outside as much as was on the inside.

Each question she asked was crafted to get as much information out as possible, disguised as lightly versed insults, concerned daughter, and/or genuinely curious. It was hard, so when Joan made it to the garage alone with the door shut, she lifted a hand over her pounding heart and swallowed thickly.

"To recap." She started slowly while pacing behind her mother's car in tune with the racing thump thump thump inside her chest. "I am Joan Agatha Henderson. Not Joan Destiny Henderson. My brother is now my dad and is significantly younger... my mother is my grandmother. I've travelled in time somehow to Hawkins in the 80's back when all that shit went down."

A pause. Joan's face went white at another terrible feeling.

Her dad never mentioned a sister. Her grandmother never mentioned a daughter. Joan was named Joan after someone significant in her dad's childhood, but that was all the information she was given to the point she was almost positive she was named after Joan Jett.

Worst of all she was a cheerleader, a species she was unfamiliar with besides her interactions with Brynnyn who if it wasn't for her talents would probably not be on the team for social reasons alone.

"I'm going crazy." Joan decided with a nod, looking over the shelves for the cat food. "I fell asleep drink chocolate milk again. There's no way I'm actually here in the 80's with my dad for a brother and possibly possessing a body that isn't mine."

The nail in the coffin was the moment Joan stepped into her bedroom she was going to be sick. The walls were a Pepto Bismal disaster with posters of artists she didn't know and Polaroids of people that she didn't recognize. Glancing over at the only familiar decorations being the aforementioned book quotes, she walked over to her desk to see if there were any more clues on who Joan Agatha Henderson was. Swallowing thickly, Joan grabbed a lose Polaroid on her desk and stared at the cheek-kissed individual, her stomach dropped and eyes widened comically at the image.

Oh my God, was that her and Uncle Steve?!

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