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secondbeatsongs · 11 months

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iCarly Meta, Part 5: Socko, Nominative Determinism, and How I Spend My Free Time

so, you may remember that I've made four separate iCarly posts before, because I am just way too into this dorky, ridiculous children's show.

well, over a year ago, I wrote this fifth one. and after some introspection, some really deep self-evaluation about what I want and where I'm going in life, I've decided that it's time to share it with the world at large

so...let's talk about Socko's family!

to catch you up: Socko is Spencer's best friend, who designs all of the fun socks that Spencer wears! he's first mentioned in s01e07 (iScream on Halloween), though some of his socks are shown as early as s01e02 (iWant More Viewers).

(technical note: production-wise, s01e09 is listed before s01e07, and I think that was intended to be Socko's introduction, and it would make sense, considering how Spencer describes him in that ep. but I can't prove this, and so we move on.)

while Socko is mentioned consistently throughout the show, he's never fully shown on screen. but, he does technically appear in an episode, because you can see part of his arm in s04e11-s04e13 (iParty with Victorious) when he hands Spencer the keys to his van.

Spencer and Socko have known each other since at least 1999 (as mentioned in s02e12, iRocked the Vote) when Spencer would have been 17 or 18. and despite Socko almost never being shown, it's clear that he spends a lot of time with Spencer, and that they're close. if Spencer needs something, Socko is always willing to call in a favor from one of his family members.

and boy, does Socko have a lot of very interesting family members.

let's go over some of them real quick:

Bernie is a welder, Otto is a used car salesman, Tyler designs neckties, Taylor is a tailor, Rob is a thief, Arty is an artist, Isaac is an optometrist, and Ryder is a motorcycle enthusiast.

are we noticing a pattern here?

every single one of these is an aptronym – a personal name that is aptly or peculiarly suited to its owner. and since all of these people are in some way related, this is fascinating to me.

it seems like Socko's family is really into nominative determinism – the idea that people tend to gravitate towards areas of work that fit their names. whether or not this is true of people in real life is unclear, but in the universe of iCarly, this is something that Socko's family is all about.

when did it start, I wonder? who was the first in the family to have a job or hobby that related directly to their name? and who continued that pattern? because someone named Bernard going by "Bernie" and taking up welding is one thing, but an entire family of people going into fields that have to do with their names is unsettling.

is this on purpose, now? do the parents in Socko's family choose names for their children based on what they want them to be? is there an expectation that each child will have to choose a profession based on what their parents name them?

I think there is. and I think it's fucked up.

imagine growing up knowing that your name would control your future career options. that no matter how you felt about your name, choosing a career or hobby that matched it is what would make your parents happy. that at least some portion of your parents' love is tied to the idea that you will be what they named you.

and depending on the name, the kids aren't always left with a lot of options! someone named Bernie could be a welder, a woodburning artist, a firefighter, etc...but for Taylor, there's really only one path to take.

what if a kid is trans? I just have to wonder, would they be judged more for not identifying with their assigned sex at birth, or for changing their name?

and one of Socko's cousins is named Mary. think about that with me for a second – Mary.

imagine that the only dream your parents have for you is that you get married. and not just fall in love! no, you were given this name because their express purpose, their biggest hope for you is that you get legally married.

what if Mary had been gay? what if she grew up with fear in her heart, knowing that the only thing her parents had ever wanted from her wasn't possible, was actually illegal, because of who she was?

or what if she had been aro, or ace, or just otherwise not interested in relationships? or what if she was interested in relationships, but not the serious, legal commitment of marriage?

my hope here (my one fragile hope) is that Rob, Mary, and Josh are siblings, and that their parents were trying to escape this part of the family legacy. maybe they named their kids Robert, Marian, and Joshua, and tried to steer clear of any obvious career choices – but then their sons started going by "Josh" and "Rob" and causing trouble, and "Mary" started talking about her upcoming wedding, and they knew that they would never be free of the family curse.

'cause it's gotta be a curse, right? I feel like at this point, it has to be.

but hey, worry not! because I think there are some loopholes.

Penny, for example, had a lot of choices – she could have minted coins, or built fences, or designed ball-point pens, or been a cashier (etc, etc). but she didn't do any of those things! she started a t-shirt company, and made shirts with fun phrases on them like "church pants" and "parole baby" and "chest words" (all shirts I would wear for real).

her job didn't have anything to do with her name – but she still followed the family pattern. she named her t-shirt company "Penny-Tees", and sewed a single penny into each of her shirts. instead of finding a name-based occupation, she made her own.

I really think it's brilliant – she got to do what she wanted, and her parents couldn't complain, because it still suited her name! and if this pattern is curse-based, she found a way around it by following it to the letter (but not exactly the spirit), and because of this, she got to make her own choices.

and speaking of jobs that may or may not suit one's name: let's talk about Socko.

early in the show when we're introduced to him, we know three things about him:

he knows where to find huge pumpkins

he sells Spencer all of his wacky socks

his name is Socko

but, thinking about that third point…is it?

like, is his name actually Socko?

let's look at Socko's family tree for a moment:

(ID in alt text)

(yes, I made this. it took over two days. I skimmed through many episodes, looked through a large amount of the old iCarly website on the Wayback Machine, and as far as I know, this is canon accurate.)

(shhh, this was absolutely a valuable use of my time. don't worry about it.)

look at his family. look at the names.

almost all of them are, well…normal names. names that could belong to any acquaintance, friend, or relative in your own everyday life.

the only real exceptions here are Freight Dog, Boomer, and Dr. Paxil – but if we're being real? "Freight Dog" is almost definitely a nickname, "Paxil" isn't that strange-sounding of a surname, and I have actually seen people named "Boomer".

so that just leaves…Socko.

"Socko" is not a people name. it sounds mean, but I don't know how else to word that – it's just not a name for a human person.

it would be a great name for a cat or a dog (especially if they had paws that were a different color from their body – man, that'd be so cute!), but it is not a name that many parents would willingly give to a human child. especially when all of the other siblings in the family have relatively normal names.

my theory, my hottest take: I don't think "Socko" is his legal name.

think about it: Socko and every single one of his siblings went into the fashion industry. even accounting for the fact that they probably wanted Penny to have a different career, would Socko's parents really want all three of their other children going into the same industry, especially one as tumultuous and challenging as fashion design?

I think not. I think they gave Socko a different name, one that they believed would lead him down a completely distinct career path. and then, like Penny, Socko found his own true calling – but instead of changing his occupation to match his name? he changed his name to match his occupation.

it is my belief that Socko's birth name…the name his parents gave him…

(drumroll please)

…was "Socrates".

now hold on, just stay with me here. because I swear that this does make sense, really!

so, back at the beginning of this post I mentioned nominative determinism, but that term wasn't actually used until 1994. before then, it was called "onomastic determinism" or "die verpflichtung des namens" ("the obligation of the name"), but it wasn't really…a thing? it wasn't something that people really studied, and when they did, nobody could seem to come to a solid conclusion about whether or not your name does actually influence your career choice.

I think that in some way, Socko's parents wanted an answer. they wanted an explanation as to why their family tree reads like a joke book. and by naming their kid "Socrates", they were sending that question out into the world, hoping for a response.

because there were really two options here – either Socko would grow up to be a philosopher, someone who could search for meaning in the pattern of family job-finding, or he wouldn't. and if he didn't, if he threw off the shackles of his name and did something else entirely, then that in itself would be an answer.

and sure, maybe his parents should have thought about how "Socrates" might be abbreviated. maybe they should have considered that he could grow up to design socks. but hindsight is 20/20, and I don't know if that's something any parent would expect of their child, so I won't hold that against them.

I will however, judge them for naming two of their kids "Taylor" and "Tyler" – like, my god. can you imagine how often people got them mixed up? it's inhumane.

even worse if they were twins! though actually, that would make some kind of twisted sense – to give twins names that not only match, but that would lead them to careers in the same industry. maybe they wanted them to go into business together? hoo boy.

anyway, sorry, I've gone off-topic. back to Socko – or should I say, Socrates.

"Socrates" is a pretty fun name. two parts of it are σῶς (sôs, “safe and sound”) and κράτος (krátos, “power”), which is an interesting name meaning for a dude who was executed for corrupting the youth.

(I'm talking about the philosopher here – as far as I know, Socko from iCarly was not executed for corrupting the youth. at least, not yet.)

and if we keep thinking about Socrates (the philosopher), I think there's another reason that this name fits: we know fuck-all about Socrates.

sure, he's well-known – lots of people know about his ideas, and the Socratic method – but…he never actually wrote anything. everything we think we know about him, we learned from somebody else.

all of Socrates' interests, his skills, his beliefs? they were all things we learned from Plato, Xenophon, or (I guess) Aristophanes. we have no idea what the dude was actually like, outside of that.

just like we have no idea what Socko is like, outside of what Spencer says.

Socrates is a vital figure in the history of western philosophy, but all of the things we know about him are altered by the opinions of other people, filtered through the lenses of their perception.

and Socko is a vital character in the show iCarly, but all of the things we know about him – his hobbies, his opinions, his wants – are things we've heard second-hand from Spencer.

(you're laughing. Spencer Shay is a stand-in for Plato, and you're laughing.)

so in a very fun way, Socko (Socrates) did live up to his name…by being unknown to us, the audience.

us, watching this TV show the way chained prisoners watch shadows dance on the wall of a cave.

continuing down this rabbit hole…does this mean that one of the iCarly crew is Aristotle?

no…perhaps that's taking it too far.

(it'd be Gibby)

final notes:

I haven't seen all of the iCarly reboot yet (I'm on episode 3! I have mixed feelings, but I think one of the writers ships the thing that I ship, so that's fun), so if it mentions something about Socko lore, I unfortunately do not know about it.

fun fact: the ancient Greeks did often have names that were meant to have sway on their lives! for example: Hedistē ("most delightful"), Demotimos ("honored among the people"), Hippodamas ("horse-tamer"), Nikomachē ("victorious in battle").

additional fun fact: I asked one of the mods of the iCarly wiki, and they said I could put the family tree I made on the page for Socko's Family! :D

look! it's my thing! the thing that I made! how cool is that?!

(I'll be real; I am way too proud of this)

yes, two of Socko's family members have inaptronyms instead of aptronyms: Harry (bald) and Jean (allergic to denim). but in my mind, they still count – the names are still weirdly suited to their specific lives.

since I'm pretty sure "Freight Dog" is a nickname, I also took a crack at what I think his legal name might be. my theory? "Aaron".

(get it? Aaron? because he's in the air? okay, I'll see myself out.)

anyway, my new hobby is coming up with more family members for Socko to have. descend with me into the deepest reaches of The Headcanon Zone, and behold:

Lisa: She's a landlord (she leases apartments). Socko hates her.

Barry: A big ol' bear of a man. Or he could work for Gund or Build-a-Bear or something. That could be fun!

Mike: Audio technician

Amy: Sharpshooter

Summer: Camp counselor

Tony: Orthopedist. (toe-knee)

Marty: Owns and operates a supermarket

and because it's fun, my friend @wonderbound joined in and came up with these super great ones:

Drew: Illustrator

Cody: Programmer or hacker

Pete: Bryologist (he studies moss!)

Norm: He's just a guy

Flo: Plumber – or maybe, an expert in fluid dynamics

Hattie: Milliner (she makes hats)

Howl: Werewolf (or perhaps, the owner of a moving castle 👀)

Will: Estate planning attorney (he writes wills)

anyway, I think that's about it. thanks for coming with me on this adventure! I hope it was as much of a rollercoaster to read as it was to write, because yeah, it was a weird one over here.

I mean, it started out normal? but then the next thing I knew, I had gotten invested, made nine edits to the iCarly wiki, and designed that whole family tree. so I think maybe I went a little overboard with this one. xD

tune in next time, for…I dunno. I think my brain needs a break after that. but, eventually I would love to write more meta! just…maybe not all for iCarly? I have some things to say about Gravity Falls that I think are gonna blow your minds.

(not really; I just think it's great)

#icarly #icarly meta #socko #spencer shay #id in alt text #back on my bullshit etc etc #this is probably one of the best things I've ever written #I solidly lost my mind for a week and then woke as if from a dream #thinking...hey. maybe...I'm onto something here?#like maybe I connected the dots. I connected them #xD #but yeah. it took a while and a lot of thinking #but I did decide to put this on tumblr and not just on patreon #I think I'm okay with it now #tbh. the reason that I kept it only on patreon to begin with #was because there was going to be some weird overlap with a fic I wrote #one I never finished or published. a long time ago #but I decided...to not finish that fic #at least not now #so there's no risk of you finding my ao3 because of this post #and there won't be for a while. maybe not ever #that's what I was worried about #I try to keep my main fandom life separate from this blog #that's just how I like it to be #but now I think I can relax about that for a bit #and let you enjoy this post

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theflyingfeeling · 5 months

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💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia.

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him.

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him.

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet.

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself.

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

#blind channel fanfiction #blind channel rpf #ollixallu #24 days of gift-giving by theflyingfeeling #<- that's the tag i'll be using for these btw #everyone stop and look at the banner!! 🥺💖#it's not QUITE like the original one ju made first but maybe one day you'll get to see that masterpiece as well 😏#but ooff the way i've gone from having 'a plan' to having 'a better plan' to having 'no plan whatsoever' with this? 😂#so yeah idk what kinda fics/posts there'll be in this series... stay tuned and see for yourself! 🤭#some of them might be in the same universe/plot. others may not. who knows? not i 😌#(...but as you can see from this fic the door for a multiple-part story is definitely open 👀)#some of the fics may not even be based on a prompt though if i'm not feeling like it. honestly i'm curious to see how this will turn out!#(and if this ends up being the only post i ever make that's alright too! i refuse to bully myself with a hobby i'm doing for free <3)#however: i'm not taking requests per say BUT feel free to snoop on the prompts for each day and send me your ideas or hopeful wishes 👀#there are certain ones i'm more drawn to but i haven't really set anything in stone #one could say i'm just going with the flow. fuck around and find out if you will ✨#also: not sure if/when i'll be bothered to post any of these on ao3 #probably i'll just see how many fics i manage to actually finish and dump them all at once on ao3 on christmas day lol #anyway! enjoy & let me hear from you <3

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shawncantwrite · 7 months

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I know you've been hurt in this walk of life. (let me find my shoes, I will walk with you.) - A Larissa Weems x Reader hurt/comfort fic.

A/N: purely self indulgent. as previously mentioned on the last episode of dragon ball z, my partner of two years broke up with me. On top of that, I've been relapsing because I'm oh so smart, but enough of the sob story, Have this fic I coughed up during my Depressive episode

This isn't proofread because, well, my proofreader dumped me 😭

TW: Self-depricating thoughts, Self-harm, implied child abuse, just the sads all around

Your life was shit. Pure unadulterated shit. It feels like from the moment you were born the universe was out to get you, like every circumstance was a "fuck you" to the face. Nothing ever went right for you. For starters, your parents were the absolute worse. They were constantly breathing down your neck about your grades and about how you present yourself in public, gotta protect their image they would say. From a young age you had to act older than you ever should have had to. Then in highschool everything just came crashing down on you, fear of the future, dread from the past... you finding out you were an outcast was just the cherry on top; it was one thing for you to be your family burden, but now you're also a blood sucking monster! Just your luck.

Life was a sea you were drowning in constantly, you felt as if there wasn't a day where water wasn't in your lungs and your mind wasn't constantly belittling you. It was tiring, exhausting, whatever else is synonymous. You just want it to stop. You wanted to feel something other than your emptiness, your constant dread of a lack of purpose.

Maybe that's when it started.

The first time was an accident. You were working on a school project and was cutting up some cardboard for a model, unfortunately you're a clutz and you accidentally dropped your cutter. You winced and grabbed your wrist which was now bleeding. Oddly enough though... you didn't really mind. You'd blamed the vampirism then but.. then you found that the cuts on your wrist went from accidental to on purpose.It was a dumb idea now that you think about it, you realise that now, maybe not then. You wanted to feel something, anything. The stinging sensation of the blade piercing your flesh was intoxicating, it hurt, but it hurt so comfortably. You found solace in it, no matter how morally grey it seemed.

But now, several years later, standing in front of your bathroom sink and staring down at the very same flesh you've abused all theseyears you can't help but loathe the scars you made. It's entirely your fault, you think, but that doesn't make you hate it any less. You stare and stare, each scar a reminder of how miserable you were, how pathetic you were.

It was a reminder of what life was like before her.

Larissa was a breath of fresh air in your miserable life. If you walked around with a rain cloud above your head she was the one holding and offering you an umbrella. She made your life a little bit more tolerable simply by being in it. Ever since meeting Larissa, you've noticed you've made some good changes to yourself. One of them being that you were almost half a year clean from cutting yourself!

..Almost.

Your hands grip the edge of the sink tightly, fighting back tears as you stare at two fresh scars you made the night before. That familiar feeling of dread filled you again, blinding yourself from seeing reason. Relapse is normal, Larissa once said, but you refused to tell her, you didn't want to disappoint her.

Then again, nobodys more disappointed in you than you are.

You're so lost in your self-loathing that you fail to hear the front door to your apartment open, Larissa had a spare key, you felt it was only right for her to have one by your 7th monthasarry. She calls out for you from the living room, but you're too busy hating the person in the mirror to realise that.It's only too late when you realise. The door to the bathroom clicked open, your angel's voice filled with such worry over your silence. You're like a puppy around Larissa, the moment she's back in your vicinity you're like a dog missing it's owner and suddenly you're all over her. Not tonight, though. Tonight you were quiet. Tonight you were staring at yourself and your scars, hating yourself like you always do.

It's only then you look up to stare at her, she's quick to be by your side her hands rough, a testament to her hardwork, yet so soft and gentle when handling you. She grabs onto your wrist and notices the fresh scar from the night before, her beautiful oceanic eyes painted with deep worry.

She takes you to your bedroom and sits you down. She's talking, but it all feels like it's underwater to you, you felt like the world and everything around you wasn't real at the moment, with nothing but the ringing in your ears distracting you. You try to make out what she's saying but ultimately give up. She's cleaning your wound, you notice, she's taken a first aid kit and she's making sure your cut is properly disinfected. Her touch is so soft and caring, it almost makes you tear up and cry. You stare at her, her eyes fixated on her task. You take a moment to admire her, her beautiful blonde hair, the way her brows furrow and her nose scrunches when she's focused.. for a moment, you're lifted from the tide and you can see clearly; you see her. Your Larissa, Your love.

When you realise those blue eyes are staring back at you, that's when you notice you seem to have regained your grasp on reality, she's looking at you with such warmth yet such worry, you feel bad for burdening her, but you've never been a burden, not to her, no. She adores you. She wishes you could see that.

"Are you okay?" Her words finally register, you blink at her, unsure what to say. Are you okay? You don't know yourself, honestly. She can see the conflict going on in your mind and hums, as if understanding something, her hand hovers over your cheek, a silent question in her eyes. You press your cheek into her palm and nuzzle into it, your eyes closing at the warmth and familiarity of her touch. Her eyes soften at that, her thumb caressing your cheek.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You shake your head, finding yourself unable to speak. She nods in understanding and the two of you stay there for a while, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you.

Eventually, She moved you further onto the bed. Her heels were discarded somewhere across the room, her coat hanging against the headboard, you stare up at her as she situates you so that your head lay on your chest, the steady rise and fall of chest calming your nerves and anxiety that you didn't even realise was there.

Silence falls between you two again, but you don't mind at all. Her hand mindlessly draws shapes on your back with her fingers. You bury yourself in her embrace, her touch alone lifting away all your worries... well.. almost all of them. You felt the need to open up to her but you hesitate, that same old voice in the back of your head telling you not to bother her with your pathetic whines. But as you look up at her and you find her staring back at you with nothing but love and warmth.. you can't help but let the dam loose.

You lay there and open up about everything, how tired you've felt recently, how disgusting you feel especially when it comes to your scars. You want to cry, but you can't, so you just kept it all in until you couldn't anymore. As you rant, She listens to you intently, her eyes filled with nothing but understanding and care. When you end your small tangent, she brings your wrist up to her face and presses a kiss to it.

"Thank you for telling me," She whispers softly, her lips pressing against the skin of your wrist, you shiver at the contact, confused as to what she's doing. She continues to kiss your wrist.. no, your scars, you notice, and you watch in silence, your eyes curious yet filled with warmth.

She takes her time with each one, each kiss soft and meaningful. You could feel the pure love radiating off of her, it was overwhelming. It nearly made you cry, but what really did it were her next words."I know I can't do much to help you see yourself the way I see you." She mutters against your skin, her eyes reading into yours.

"But not once have I ever found you pathetic or disgusting, nor have I ever thought you were a burden." She pulls away from your wrist and caresses your cheek once again, her gaze filled with sincerity. You listen to her, clinging onto each word, the familiar feeling of warmth from her comfort already lifting the weigh on your shoulders.

"And most of all," She grabs your wrist with her free hand, her fingers gliding across the skin. "These scars... while the way they got there is.. unconventional. They're a testament to how resilient you are, how resilient you have been."

"I will never view them as disgusting, because despite everything, they still make up the person that you are, and I love you all the same. And I'll continue to do so, For as long as you'll have me."

Tears sting your eyes, but not in a bad way, never in a bad way with Larissa. Your heart was swelling with such gratitude and love for the woman before you. You can't help but stammer like an idiot, your tears spilling down your cheek. It was an embarrassing sight, you're sure of it, but not to her, she wipes away every tear wordlessly, no judgement or mockery in her eyes. Just pure unfiltered love, love you never recieved growing up, love you needed all this time, love you deserved, love she offered.

As you fall asleep that night with her arms wrapped around you and the steady beating of her heart lulling you to sleep, you come to the conclusion that living isn't so bad, as long as you had your Larissa.

#larissa weems x reader #I am hanging on by a thread #Waaaaaaa #Hurt and comfort yayyy #This isn't cash money #It's fine I'll be okay #Just some sadness with comfort #It's funny I posted this on kinktober #Because I'm probably going to read a smut fic after this #You will too #This is also on ao3 I think I don't remember hahahahah

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aeoris4lovers · 1 year

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Angstpril 2023 Day One: Liar

There were very few things in life that Eadwulf insisted upon without any chance of compromise. Choosing battles was a matter of survival under the tutelage of Master Ikithon; incurring punishment was easy enough to do even without the added risk that stubbornness presented. To resist bending only made it inevitable that one would eventually have to break, and as far as Eadwulf was concerned, the world offered little of great enough importance to justify tempting that fate.

It was not an oath made lightly, then, when he promised that he would return every day that he was able to one particular cell in the depths of Vergesson Sanatorium.

Astrid refused to speak to him for weeks after the incident, after what he did that night to save her from a fate far worse than a scar. So, with no one there to swear it to, he made his promise to the gods themselves.

He knelt on the floor of his bedroom, hands clasped together in his lap. Outside the small window above his bed, the cool light of the nearly-full moon fanned out across the skies, setting the shadowed room aglow with the night’s ghostly haze. His gaze settled on the nearest mountain peaks; ancient and immense and unmoving, he thought they must be the closest things to gods he would ever lay his eyes on. When thoughts of his past, of his people, of his own actions that night threatened to creep to the front of his mind, he pressed them back into the darkness of memory. They were gone now; there was nothing more to be done for them. Instead, he turned his thoughts again to Bren, to bright red hair and wild eyes and roaring flames and the crack of rock against bone.

“If I condemned him to this fate,” he whispered, so quiet it was more thought than speech, “let me be the one to see him through it.”

Only a moment later, the soft moonlight was eclipsed by the silhouettes of two ravens coming to rest on the windowsill, and he knew somewhere deep within him that his oath had been sealed.

The next morning, he rose earlier than usual and ate his breakfast as quickly as he could manage to hold it down. The sun still hadn’t even begun to show itself in the young day’s sky when he slipped past the guards at the sanatorium, giving each of them a look which told them not to stand in his way if they valued their lives. They had no way of knowing that, in truth, he wasn’t sure if he would have the courage to make good on that threat; they only saw the determination in his eyes and stepped aside.

As he pushed through hall after hall, he wasted no time looking at anything other than the faces in each cell, searching for blue eyes and red hair. Any strange looks that may have been aimed his way were lost in the blur of stone and bars and wrong faces.

When he finally turned a corner and saw a short-cropped burst of orange in the nearest cell, he was just in time to stop the guard who was preparing to enter with whatever sad excuse for a breakfast they had prepared for the day. He caught the guard by the arm, stooping down to look her in the eye, and pressed a few coins into her hand.

All he said was, “Let me.”

She stared at him for a long few seconds, head tilted to one side, before shrugging.

“If you insist.”

Handing him the tray of oatmeal and water, she unlocked the door of Bren’s cell and started off toward the next one down, leaving Eadwulf there alone. He slipped through the door, closed it behind him, and crouched down next to Bren, truly taking in his current state for the first time.

Perhaps the most noticeable thing should have been how beat up he was – the dark bruises, the blood that no one had bothered to wash from his skin. But instead, all Eadwulf could see was how empty he looked. There was always such a fire behind his eyes, a kind of passion and life there, like his mind was working so feverishly to puzzle the world together that you could watch it happening from the outside, and now? That fire had been all but doused. His eyes were glazed over, wandering helplessly around the space, looking through it all and not truly seeing any of it. There was a slight strain on his face, a clench to his brow that Eadwulf knew his resting face didn’t possess, which betrayed some process of thought, no doubt an unpleasant one. It was distant, though, and passive, as though the thoughts had taken on a life of their own within his mind and he, in this clouded state, was helpless to resist or engage them at all. When his gaze finally fell on Eadwulf, there was a soft spark of recognition that sent Eadwulf’s heart into his throat.

Eadwulf returned every morning after that, and again every night, so long as he wasn’t off on a mission or locked away for the sake of some punishment. Each morning, he fed Bren whatever breakfast the guards had prepared, careful to make it a far more gentle process than the other meals likely involved. As Bren’s hair grew longer with time, Eadwulf took to brushing it, and trimming it when the ends began to fray. A few times, he considered cutting it short again; surely, it would be more comfortable for Bren to have less of it. But there was no ignoring how his eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of it being brushed, or how he hummed in a way that almost seemed to approach contentment — better to keep it long, Eadwulf always ultimately decided.

At night, Eadwulf would clean him — easy enough to do with a simple spell, but most nights Eadwulf wiped his face and hands the mundane way first, probably more for his own sake than for Bren’s — and tended to whatever wounds may have been sustained since the last visit. Then, he would take out whatever books he had been able to find that day, sit by Bren’s side, and read. Bren’s favorite of the books, judging by the way his eyes brightened ever so slightly at the sight of its cover, was an old children's story about a young boy and a cat prince, so they always started and finished with that one. In between, they cycled through as many of the other books as Eadwulf thought they safely had time for, and by the time he closed the fairytale for the final time, Bren was almost always slumped against his side, asleep.

Eventually, once the rifts between them had been repaired, Astrid joined him for some of his visits, though she was quickly given more responsibilities than him and often found it more difficult to get away. On those days, Astrid would braid Bren’s hair once he had brushed it in the mornings, and alternated reading with him at night.

And after every nighttime visit, he would sit in his bed and write a few lines in a journal: how the day’s visits had gone, what had gone on in the outside world that day or over the past few days, what he and Astrid were doing in their own lives. Someday, he told himself, Bren would have his mind back. Someday, he would hand over the journal, a meticulous record of the days Bren was locked away. Someday, Bren would be able to read it, and it would be as if he hadn’t missed a thing at all.

In all that time spent in Bren’s cell, Eadwulf never feared being discovered by Master Ikithon — not out of carelessness or apathy toward the consequences he would inevitably incur, but because he knew it was foolish to assume he hadn’t already been discovered at the very start. The archmage’s gaze took immense care to avoid, and nowhere was it more omnipresent than in the halls of the sanatorium. The chances that he had gone unnoticed were laughably slim — it was better to assume Master Ikithon was well aware, that a confrontation would come soon enough.

And come it did.

One morning, nearly two years into his visits, Eadwulf arrived at Bren’s cell to see his teacher standing there, calmly watching him approach. Inside the cell, he could see Bren’s eyes wide and his face held more tensely than usual. He was shifting slightly where he sat, as though his own body were the walls of a prison preventing him from running away.

All at once, Eadwulf was overcome with the urge to run forward, to lunge at Ikithon, to scream, because how dare he come here and strike that kind of fear into someone so helpless, hasn’t Bren been through enough? But he pushed the urge down and kept calm as he walked in spite of it. It was him that the archmage was angry with, it was him who would face the consequences of his actions; Bren had no reason to be afraid.

As it turned out, neither did he. Master Ikithon wasn’t angry, not at Eadwulf nor Bren; he never said or even suggested that Eadwulf would be punished, and the calm smile never fell from his face. He seemed entirely unfazed — pleased, even — by Eadwulf’s actions.

“You are welcome to visit our dear Bren whenever you wish, Eadwulf,” he said in a tone that could almost be mistaken for good-natured, “as is Miss Becke. In fact, I think it’s wonderful that you three have grown to care so much for each other, even after all this time. By all means, do continue to come visit him if it pleases you.” Moving closer, he added in a lower tone, “I would only urge you to remember that it is for you, yes? As much as it pains me to say this, Bren is — how shall I put this? — absent, by all accounts. You are a smart boy, I have no doubt you’ve noticed. Each time you leave this place, it is to him as if you were never here at all; he won’t remember. The sharp young man we knew is, I’m afraid, no longer with us.”

And every night since then, as silence fell over the sanatorium’s halls, Eadwulf would look down at Bren, tucked against his side the same way they had once grown used to laying in their beds, and ask himself: how could that possibly be true?

How, when he still squirmed at the mere sight of his old teacher standing nearby, when his eyes still sparked at the sight of his favorite fairytale’s cover, when he still remembered how to fall asleep next to Eadwulf like it was as simple as breathing, could Bren be gone? How could it be possible that such a sharp mind, so full of passion and of life, simply slipped away? Even if he remembered none of it, even if each day felt to him like the first time, Bren seemed in his own way to welcome their company far more than any other’s, to relax in some small way at their presence; did that not count for something?

It would take him many more years to truly make sense of it, to fully understand the weight of what it meant, but the simple fact remained: that Bren was gone was the first of Trent Ikithon’s lies that Eadwulf ever saw through.

#yes this is a day late. no i don't know if its good or not. yes im posting it anyway because these are my babies #im deep in an Eadwulf My Beloved Who The Fuck Are You kick rn so most of my entries will probably be centered around Him™️#i want to peel him open like an onion and see what's going on inside. yknow #*slaps eadwulf* this baby can hold so much love shown through acts of service inside of it #angstpril2023 #criticalrole #fanfiction #day1 #liar #cr fic #critical role fic #eadwulf grieve #bren aldric ermendrud #caleb widogast #trent ikithon #<- literally my number one parasocial enemy tbh. and hes not even real #i would tag astrid but she's only very briefly mentioned so it feels wrong #this will eventually be on ao3 but for now i'm just slapping it here and getting the FUCK to bed

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clewis · 5 months

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i really reeeeeally hope i'll be able to finish the next chapter of the ocean's call before the holidays!! it's getting way longer the the previous ones so we'll see 🥹

#also i still need to read & respond to all the comments to the latest chapter on ao3 #honestly i'm so happy ppl are liking this story and are engaged i'm.... 🥹🥹🥹#being an active h2oe blog in 2023 was probably on of the best things of the year for me!!!!!#also.. next chapter is turning out to be a very long one!!!! thought about splitting it but decided against it #so i really hope i'll manage to post it before the holidays since i'm going to be away then! and probably won't have time to write #or do anything really so yeah hope i'll manage to post is asap!#text

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tanukisurpreso · 2 months

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should I post something I wrote about my ocs that only me and my best friend know about???

#tanuki talks #my oc's #but really #i'm really proud of what i wrote #i wanted to share it somewhere #is this just me asking a rethorical question on a post no one will pay attention to? yes #i might as well go for it but if someone decides they wanna read about #two disaster gays with communication problems and angst #tell me!!!!!#i promise you'll suffer but you'll also get your heart warm #or not #it makes much more sense in context but i really don't feel like posting the full thing here #maybe one day i'll go to ao3 #probably not #but i can dream #and ramble in the tags my god #ok i'm done

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tending-the-hearth · 1 year

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twitter turtles pt. 4

part 1

part 2

part 3

#twitter turtles #half of these are tumblr text posts btw #raphmona are bi4bi yes i make the rules #idk i feel like the turtles would just drop random pieces of lore #like leo's tweet makes people go ????#there are definitely people who have entire boards trying to connect the turtles' backstory #tbh i'm probably going to eventually make a social media fic for ao3 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #raphael #leonardo #donatello #michelangelo #april o'neil

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ageofzero · 9 months

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You have a choice to make.

After the pieces are cut from you, after the silence has fallen and you're tasked with the protection and continued survival of a child you are wholly unprepared to raise, you have a choice to make.

It is a choice that you've been backed into.

You have a support system, you have a family. You have old friends and lifelong partners. One of them is struggling to keep his pieces in place, the other is struggling to rebuild the cracked foundation of a cursed home. You can't reach out to either of them, not because of their own struggles.

The choice you have to make is going to dirty your name further, and already people are going to be dragged down by the filth the world now sees you covered in.

You weren't dirty by choice before. The choice is going to make the difference.

You choose your words carefully, you choose who you contact even more so. You choose patience and surveillance. You choose a mask and wear it in place to meet with another masked man. You choose the friend who is a viper in human skin.

You choose to look as if you've fallen on impossibly hard times, as if your friends have abandoned you, as if you struggle to support the needs of a child. It makes you look like prey to a predator. You are a wolf in the clothes of a wounded sheep. The blood attracts the predator you hunt, and you let him get close.

You let him twist himself into you, as he looks for any threat you may carry. You let him open your rib cage to look for danger and poison and he finds none but the poison he's left there himself. You live with that poison for as long as it takes to gather your information. You pretend you've forgotten the law you worked so hard to represent. You pretend you've forgotten those you befriended.

You make a choice, and the viper comes into the trap.

You make the choice for seven years, and the trap finds its bait. The trap snaps shut on the viper's throat.

You use other hands, other claws and teeth, to accomplish your hunt. You and the viper are no longer so separate. It takes a delicate hand to keep from being snared in the same trap, but you still cause collateral damage.

You made that choice.

And even when the work is done and the viper is removed, there is still the poison he left behind. In you, in the system, in the damage. Your choices cannot be taken back. You can be given the clothes you once wore, the badge you once upheld, the job you were removed from, but the person who wore all those is gone. The choice was a sacrifice of that person, and what's left has to pick up the pieces.

The choice was made, and you don't know who you are anymore.

#Ace Attorney #Gyakuten Saiban #Phoenix Wright #Naruhodou Ryuuichi #tega writes #Tega's art #character study #ssh spoilers #Sanity don't look you haven't played this game yet #AA4 spoilers #Gee Phoenix how come Tega writes you two character studies #Phoenix is a completely different character in the second half I stand by this #It's not MY fault AA5 and 6 largely drop the ball in regards to that character trajectory #So anyway continuing to write things and make it everyone else's problem #The phrase YOU HAVE A CHOICE TO MAKE came barrelling at me and I had to write it #we back in second person town babey #I'm working on a susato one but all my thoughts are disjointed so it's not ready yet #at some point I'll get these on ao3 probably #if you saw me post this on my artblog #well it was too annoying I had to put it on the right blog okay I was going to be driven insane #idk why it's not like I'm ashamed of writing #I've shown family my artblog that has saucy art on it now lmao #bUT IT WAS GOING TO BOTHER ME SO HERE WE ARE

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mollymarymarie · 1 year

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miss molly!!! my love, my life!

i haven’t been online in a bit and in an attempt to catch up was speed scrolling and skimmed “won’t write fan fiction anymore” and came to a screeching halt

i thought i was seeing a goodbye or deleting my account type post and my heart was immediately in my ass. after some profile stalking i gathered some context and i need to say that you do whatever you need to do for yourself, and absolutely no one else.

that being said, anyone that has read anything you’ve written knows you CLEARLY don’t support or agree with the person who just named YOUR characters. bc while she may have written them down first, every story you create you build them new from scratch for us to fall in love with all over again, and none of that love comes from what she did but from what we as a community have built in spite of her.

I will support and love whatever you decide to do from here. your wolfstar is without a doubt my favorite and your fics are so special to me, but if this is what you need to do for you i back you 1000% and will be first in line to read anything you publish next.

just wanted you to know that youve brought immense joy to my life so far and i will forever be grateful you share your art with the world<3

xoxo, ur biggest fan

FRIEND 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I sincerely got weepy reading this, you have no idea how much this means to me! It makes me sad that she effectively ruined our fandom by being such a hateful person, but if I'm being honest, I'm also sort of excited about having something that is MINE and not attached to her in any way (kinda fun to figure out new names lol)

That being said, I'm not sure what I will do with what I produce. I like the IDEA of trying to actually get something original published in print, but I don't really know how to go about doing that. I considered it with DYH, but it was easier (and less scary) to write it as Wolfstar for ao3.

I haven't looked into posting original fiction on AO3, it is evidently a thing, but would anyone even read it?? (except some of my friends, including you, my darling anon)

#I got an ask!#Thank you so much friend #This is so reassuring #I'm glad to know you'd stick with me for original fiction lol #Think I'll probably lose a lot of my followers when I move away from Wolfstar #Most people only follow me for Wolfstar #If anyone else is reading this #Send me an anon if you would consider reading original fiction written by me #No hard feelings if not I get it #Just curious if posting on AO3 would be worth it #Or if staying active on Tumblr is worth it #Tumblr has been my way of sharing WIPs and things #But if it's not Wolfstar Idk if people would want snippets and things on Tumblr anymore #ANYWAY I'm rambling #Just trying to figure out...#Where To Go From Here

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sisterdivinium · 4 months

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I did some gushing over WN on Dreamwidth for the Snowflake Challenge if anyone is interested.

#you're probably not but i'm linking you to it either way. did another little graphic of our ladies because have you Seen them #i've been active lately huh? don't get used to it lol i think i'll need to disappear for a while for boring real life stuff #i do intend to have psychosis ready as soon as possible though. gotta go back to rereading it for revision. i'll keep you posted #not putting this on the main tag because meh #i don't need to preach to the choir lol!#also fwiw you *can* leave comments as a guest over there kinda like on ao3. just in case anyone ever wants to say anything #for the time being i keep anon comments on. if i get trolls (pfft because i'm so popular LOL) i'll turn it off but right now they're on

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bbygirl-aemond · 1 year

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someone just came close to guessing THE massive plot twist coming next chapter and it has me giggling kicking my feet blushing twirling my hair. like in a game of hot and cold not a single person has come close to being warm but this person is PIPING hot

edit: i am feeling very devious so here are some cryptic hints

10/25

12/11

12/15

12/21

2/5

2/6

2/9

2/12

2/???

#[redacted] you are amazing and i will probably shout you out later on #i'm hoping that it'll be fun for you all to go back through my stuff and realize how straight up i was about it lmaooo #ao3 comments from many chapters ago + ao3 tags + seemingly unrelated tumblr posts + tumblr hashtags = jackpot #stormbreak chapter 18 #hotd #house of the dragon #fic #fic: stormbreak #stormbreak #aemond targaryen #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra #daemon #aemond #daemyra #daemond #rhaemond #aemyra

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bahoreal · 7 months

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i think i lost a couple followers for being annoying about wangxian. that's so rude. come back here and vote for wangxian in the ao3 ships poll right now

#.jtxt #i am joking i will also not post about them any more #its just important to me that people know they dind't just affect western fandom. but they also affected c fandom in a huge way #i was actually in a different fandom while iw as watching all those fights go down so it was super trippy to be like #wait. people aren't gonna post about this on ao3 any more because some solo fans got ao3 banned? what?#anyway. i'm done. i know wangxian will probably lose #but i hope people can have a little insight into the fact that c fandom worksvery differently. and was affected hugely by wangxian too!

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asjjohnson · 1 year

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Part 6 of my poll adventure fic. Links: the beginning, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5.

It's mid-day Wednesday (at least for my time), which means a new part of my poll adventure fic, because I've been here for over a year and still don't know how to use this site effectively. :D (Oh wait, here, I made a poll about tumblr timing.)

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Valerie walked toward Vlad through the rubble, hugging a hissing and clawing Maddie against her armor. "Found him," she said proudly, smiling up at Vlad. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Actually, there is. There's a malevolent ghost loose in Amity Park, posing a serious risk to my health, as well as to the city. I need him contained and brought to me."

Oh, cheese sticks with marinara dipping sauce! He had meant to do the responsible thing here—not ask a fourteen-year-old child who couldn't even hold a cat properly to risk her life in his stead.

...He really had become too accustomed to avoiding anything unpleasant.

"Sure thing, Mayor Masters!"

Maddie squirmed out of Valerie's hold with an angry yowl and ran off.

Well, he could still work with Valerie. ...If he truly wanted to. He was unlikely to succeed on his own, anyhow, if this older version of Daniel actually was as powerful as he'd heard.

But did he truly want to be a part of this endeavor? He was already dreading it, with only the thought.

He recalled what the older Daniel had said—that he let his emotions hold too much sway, and that in turn caused his plans to fail.

Which had been exactly the case when he'd felt some level of compassion for that ghost.

Thinking purely objectively, Vlad could still use the ghost if he could get him back under his control. And if Vlad were to have some part in the ghost's capture—in saving Amity Park—it would boost his ratings. He did need to keep his position as mayor of Amity Park for his contingency plans.

"Valerie, dear. Why don't we work together? I'm sure it's just misplaced guilt, but I can't help but feel somehow responsible for this situation. Ridiculous, I know. However, working with you on his capture would ease my poor conscience."

"Oh... uh, you've never suggested this before," Valerie said uncertainly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, as though she was trying to think of some way that poor old 'Mayor Masters' could work with her. "But if that's what you want."

'Cheerleader' isn't, ah, a literal cheerleader. (Don't make me dress him up in a skirt.) It just means... like, advertising and cheering her on. More of a cheer-leader (...which is probably an even more literal meaning actually).

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@charlietheepic7, @chrysanthemum9484, @mymadmedleyw, @dp-marvel94, @aikoiya, @whydouwantmyname, @cinturon-cadena, @freakofyournature, @satanicrutialspecialist, @danphantom80

(if you want on the list, specifically ask to be alerted for updates in a tag or comment. Ask again if I forget! If I can't tag you, I'll send a Message.)

#danny phantom #vlad plasmius #valerie gray #poll fic #poll adventure #asj post #asj writing #Don't worry Maddie's fine. She(?) is just startled from the collapse and doesn't like strangers much.#We know Valerie's not a dog person but who said she was a cat person either?#Vlad will probably run into Danny in the next part.#(...you guys voting for Vlad to ask two young children to help him catch a very dangerous ghost.)#actually I probably should've thought to add an 'everyone he can' option. In Reign Storm against Pariah Dark he'd talked to several people #Hmm... if this works out good enough to later post on AO3 I'll need to remember to add that option.#(I'm afraid the plot is deteriorating though.)#(And I can't figure out how to End a path. This could go on forever. ...Especially if you guys keep shifting the plot.)#It's kind of fun though. You guys sometimes come up with such weird ideas.#...I'm not sure how long s post can be before I should add a Keep Reading/Read More break.

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