#good luck in your ventures anon

[doodle-pops]

Turn Back the Sands of Time

Feanor x daughter!reader

Request: Can I request a fic for Feanor, coming back to Valinor after hia death, finding out Nerdanel had been pregnant when he left and she gave birth to a daughter. And if possible, this daughter has Miriel's sewing gift. – anon

A/N: I took a different route to how their interaction would occur and made this quite sentimental than I intended :)

Warnings: female reader, soft angst, softness and comfort, reconciliation

Words: 2.4k

Synopsis: With the return of your father to the Blessed Realm, an attempt at rekindling what was never forged, is pursued.

“Leaving so early?”

Your mother’s voice reverberated through the morning air, clear yet carrying a stern undertone. The sun had ascended over the hills and forest, casting its benevolent warmth upon the damp, fertile earth, coaxing the crawlies to retreat to their hidden abodes.

Startled by her sudden intrusion, you jerked in surprise, twisting your neck to find your mother positioned in the doorway. Her hands firmly rested on her hips, already adorned with small flecks of clay and dust. A hasty bun confined her hair, and she wore the familiar work coveralls that marked her dedication to the tasks at hand. “Oh, you gave me a fright!” you awkwardly chuckled, your attention momentarily diverted from the contents of your basket. “I’m... heading out.”

Her bare feet made no sound on the polished floorings as she traversed the distance, positioning herself beside you. With keen observation, she watched as you hastened your packaging, attempting to conceal the contents within the basket. Despite your efforts, you weren’t as clever as you believed. However, she remained silent, extending her left hand to rest against your waist. Leaning in, she placed a tender kiss on your cheek.

“At least be safe on the road. You can borrow a few of my cloaks, they’ll keep you warm, and good luck. I cannot tell you how to decide, but when you do, know that it is something you will have to live with.”

Suddenly, she vanished through the backdoor, setting you on the arduous path to Formenos after brief stops at Tirion’s market to procure supplies. Pastries, breads, salted meats, and fruits were gathered in an attempt to ease any potential awkwardness.

Alone on the road for five days, you revisited regions where you had once stealthily ventured. The surroundings were steeped in familiarity as you leisurely strolled by. The rhythmic clopping of your horse’s hooves on the gravelled road, the subtle rustling of trees and bushes, vast open fields where the wind hummed its tune, and the delightful symphony of birdsong and frog croaks accompanied your journey. Small creatures scurried at the feet of your horse, some perching on your shoulders or head. Nightfall descended, only to be swiftly replaced by the break of day, marking the conclusion of your expedition.

As you arrived at your destination, the wear and tear on the landscape became evident. Paint had faded, stones were missing from pillars and posts, wood showed signs of decay, and windows lay shattered. Face-to-face with the relentless march of time and the scars of neglect, you confronted the tangible evidence of one’s transgressions.

Dismounting from your majestic stallion, you carefully secured him to an apple tree before continuing on foot. The path led you through a gateway and into a garden adorned with a subtle array of colours—some signs of life still blossoming. Your keen eyes noticed the adjustments since your last visit, becoming attuned to the intense presence and weight that the surroundings now bore.

With each step, the gravel and dust beneath your sandals resonated against the cobblestone, creating a symphony of soft crunches until you abruptly halted before the colossal red door, proudly displaying the house sigil in shimmering gold. Tightening your grip on the basket and assuming a more composed posture, a sense of tension gripped your throat, akin to barbed wires constricting around it.

Summoning your courage, you knocked on the door, the sound echoing three times in tandem with the palpitations of your heart.

Initially, it seemed like no one was home, but an imposing presence lingered in the air, prompting you to raise your hand for another attempt. However, before your knuckles could make contact, the hinges groaned, and a towering figure emerged. A giant of an elf with fiery red hair and silvery eyes loomed before you, meeting your tentative gaze. While a hunch suggested his identity, he was not the person you had come to meet. An acute observation of his appearance left you trembling at your core.

His features were the same as the portraits hung in your mother’s workshop, a stark difference to the descriptions your uncle Arafinwë explained. There were no scars, missing ligament or whitening of his hair, but it was still enough to elicit fright in your bones. The stories were enough, running their course to remind all of his actions.

“No trespassing, this is private property. Whatever business you are conducting, take it elsewhere,” he muttered under his breath with emptiness in his eyes before shuffling to slam the door in your face.

Luckily, you stuck your hand out. “Wait, please don’t! I uh…” you fumbled and exhaled, “I came to speak with Lord Fëanáro. Is he in?”

“If you are here to lay blame on him for his actions, I would suggest that you get in line—”

Waving your hands frantically in his face, you panicked. “No, no, no, no! You have it all wrong. I’m not here for that; I’m here to simply speak with him.”

“Speak with him?” Maedhros meditated. “Did King Arafinwë send you?”

Your eyes widened in disbelief at the surprising intensity with which your own brother reacted to your simple desire to speak with his father. It was truly perplexing that, despite all that had transpired, he continued to share living quarters with Fëanáro. Your assumption that their relationship had soured after recent events was swiftly proven incorrect.

Clearly, his perspectives on Fëanáro differed significantly from yours, and he held personal convictions that he preferred to keep to himself. The intricacies of their business remained shrouded in mystery.

“Uncl—King Arafinwë did not send me, I sent myself,” you stated with pride, straightening out any fears in your posture and stretching a confident smile across your lips. “Can you tell him that a…a Lady Y/N is here to speak with him?”

The moment your name fell past your lips, you saw the micro-expression of your brother’s eyes widening before composing themselves. His stance changed from no longer blocking the entire doorway to standing aside and granting you a peek inside. You were half expecting him to make a scene, yet he proved otherwise.

Maedhros’ eyes fluttered and flickered around your frame, contemplating on his next decision. Exhaling, he stepped outside, shutting the door behind and ushered around you figure to the left of the house. “He’s situated on this side of the house. It’s quicker and less…obstructive. Follow me.” And you partially understood what he meant—the bloodstains from where your grandfather was slain, still staining the floors. However, it was the unwarranted meet-and-greet of the rest of your brothers.

You weren’t here for them, and Maedhros was kind enough to spare you.

The journey unfolded in a discomforting silence, compelling you to tighten your grip on the basket as the minutes passed. Your elder brother guided you through a labyrinth of twists and turns, eventually leading to the distant sounds of a babbling stream and the faint rustling of paper being crumpled. As you approached an archway, entwined and covered in an overgrowth of vines, the scene unfolded before you—Fëanáro, seated on a bench, holding a charcoal, and engrossed in fervent scribbling on parchment, an expression of exasperation etched across his features.

Despite the openness of the surroundings, the air felt stifling. The heavens above offered a solution to wash away the lingering muskiness, and yet, it persisted. How could anyone discover peace or find reprieve in such conditions?

“I’ll leave you to speak with him.” He offered a polite smile, and with a bow of his head, Maedhros departed, leaving you to face his father in privacy.

Acknowledging the bow with a graceful return, you redirected your attention towards the man seated on the weathered wooden bench. His appearance had undergone a noticeable transformation since your initial encounter—his once neatly tied hair now cascaded loosely, and his attire, less polished, resembled something reminiscent of what your mother wore when she was in her element. Absent were the ornate rings that had adorned his fingers, and there was a notable absence of any jewellery embellishing his clothing. In this particular moment, he existed simply as Fëanáro, the man who had seemingly returned from the realm of the deceased. The elf who had…

“How long will you linger in the shadows, child?” came his soft voice. It was much mellow that the confrontation shared with your mother.

Taking a large gulp of air, you crossed the archway, entered his space to stand at the entrance and called out. “Greetings Lord Fëanáro.”

A resounding cry escaped his lips the moment his eyes fell upon your timid figure. Joy and agony intertwined in his heart as he realized that his child had come to visit him. With a swift, almost spring-like motion, he abandoned his seat, forgetting the letter that lay there, and hurried over to stand before your magnificence. It was the first time he had a clear image of the daughter he had denied himself the knowledge of. In your features, he saw not just you but also your mother and the reflection of his eldest.

An intense yearning surged within him, a desire to reach out and grasp you, to finally experience the touch of a creation that bore no marks of his mistakes. However, hesitation gripped his mind, as the unexpected loomed overhead like ominous clouds threatening to unleash a storm. The uncertainty lingered, questioning whether the rain would be cold or warm, if it would bring wrath or peace—or perhaps an outburst of everything.

“You…” He laughed breathlessly with disbelief at the tip of his tongue. “You’re all grown up. I was told about you during my return, unsure if a meeting would occur. I had glimpsed you at your mother’s, hoping to be acquainted. Unfortunately, I had not been blessed.”

“Hm, I decided to come see you on my own after…” your voice trailed off, indicating his reunion with your mother. “Well, she had the inclination that I was coming to see you, yet she did not stop me. I wanted to hear from you on my own.”

His facial muscles engaged in a silent struggle, battling the instinct to react to every nuance of your words. His hands, twitching with the desire to pull you into a comforting embrace, held back, understanding that such a gesture might inflict more harm than healing. Your perceptions of him were coloured by his transgressions. You possessed ample reasons to maintain a distance, not just from him, but also from your own brothers.

“What is there for me to tell you when you are aware of everything, my child?” he responded with reservation.

“Why?”

Your question lingered in the air, a stain that defied any attempts at removal; not even the heavens’ rain could cleanse it.

One question. Millions of reasons. One answer, and yet, he chose to walk away with his back turned and head hung in shame. His body collided with the bench with his head in his hands facing the floor.

“What answer might I give to you that would satisfy your perspective of me?” he uttered. “You’ve heard it all; I chose the Silmarils over my family… Why you ask? Pride, maybe arrogance or my blind foolishness. I led my children into death and one by one I watched them succumb to the same madness as me.”

“But you have me who was spared from the doom. I exist, someone you can change for. Someone who can be the answer to why.” Were the words wanting to spill from your lips, however, now was not the time. There was much to be possibly kindled to know how much your words weighed.

Stepping closer to where he sat hunched, you placed the basket beside him and knelt. Your hands were hesitant to touch his, but you managed to pry them off his face. “You know, there’s a saying that ammë says,” you whispered akin to the wind, “it’s something along the lines of, ‘second chances don’t come around often, but when they do, they appear in mysterious ways. It’s only if you desire it, then possibilities will arise’. If you want forgiveness, you can start with me. Show me the you who wants better.”

Fëanáro lifted his head, his mismatch teary eyes locking on your compassionate ones. He was stunned at your sympathy when his wife would not spare him the chance. If only he had not been so foolish, the family he desired would have existed before his very eyes. “You do not truly mean your words? Your mother would not pardon me—”

“I am not ammë; your quarrel with her is between you both. I am Y/N and this is between us. I choose to try building this relationship so long as you work with me,” you corrected with confidence laced in your voice. Your eyes were stern, filled with assertiveness and the reflection of faces you’d never met. “You have to want this.”

He considered with sorrowful eyes, too fearful of repeating his past and ruining his last blessing. With deliberate actions, he shifted to sit upright and meet you head-on. “Then I make no promises...no oaths.”

“Good, because I was prepared to convince you anyway possible since I brought treats for us to indulge, and I would hate for them to waste.” Your eyes darted to the basket filled with delicacies for you both to snack on during your formal meet-and-greet. “Imagine how awkward it would be had you rejected, and I had to return with a filled basket of treats.”

“You could have left it with your brothers. I’m sure they would be thrilled to learn their sister brought treats for them.” Fëanáro felt a surge of pride at the flow of your interactions, lacking awkwardness and tension. It gave him a sense of purpose to understand that all good things were not lost.

Though his refusal to utter the words of “Thanks” remained in his heart, for he knew Eru had heard and seen his gratitude.

Snickering as you reached for the basket to produce a blanket, you threw him a whimsical side eye. “I doubt that. You should have seen how the giant redhead was staring at me. I thought I was about to be thrown like a javelin out the yard,” you giggled.

“Maitimo?”

“Ay, I thought he was going to toss me out! Though it seems that the others are here as well?”

“Would you be willing to meet them?”

“Maybe another time, I only came with enough energy to deal with you.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @ladyenchanted @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora

#feanor #feanor x reader #feanor imagine #feanor x daughter!reader #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion fic #silmarillion scenario #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth fic #house of feanor #fëanor #fëanáro #curufinwë #house of finwe #feanorians #x reader insert #soft angst #angst/comfort #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[mirahuyooo]

012 for namjoon please💜

012. What if he stares at you everytime you look away? + kim namjoon

— Everyone has crushes, especially you.

word count: 1,882 contents: FLUFF, pining, yn kind of an idiot and a coward but she simps HARD for Namjoon (FELT ✋🥺💖), Joon being the type of crush that makes you want to become and do better in life rawr, secret admirers, strangers to lovers, College AU pairing: kim namjoon x reader

[masterlist] | check out more of [Four Years with Mira]!    

A/N: ANON!! 🥰✨I GOT CARRIED AWAY AGAIN ✋😭💖💞💓 I was originally gonna split this into two parts but I pulled through so this is SIGNIFICANTLY longer than this others 😭😭😭 anways, I'm sorry this came out later than expected, but I'm SO glad you joined 💕 and I hope y'all enjoy this!! Happy Holidays everyone!! 🎄🎅💖

Everyone has crushes. 

It's part of life, one could say, especially as one goes out into the world and ventures into the prospects of love. Most grow out of theirs, while some have enough luck to manifest their crushes into fruition. Some, like you, however, are unfortunate to have a crush so potent and stubborn that it leaves one pining for years on end. 

It's a particularly difficult crush—one that has festered for years since high school, clinging onto you like a bitch no matter how many attempts you tried to make it go away. You're pretty sure it's not just a crush anymore, but you refuse to acknowledge that, because how does one even dare to confess to Kim Namjoon, prodigal president of the student body and part of the most sought after group of boys in the whole campus?

You can't. You absolutely can't. 

Compared to him, you were subpar—a chaotic, colorful wall art next to an esteemed art gallery piece, if you will. 

(That, of course, doesn't mean to disparage you and your achievements, because thanks to your perpetual crush on such an accomplished man, you've been inspired to do fairly decently in school, join clubs and competitions, and earn yourself a good reputation amongst your peers. It's just that, while you were good, Kim Namjoon is a whole lot better.)

Even now, tucked away in one corner of the library for the third day, you sat with your hair an unruly mess, getting in the way of you reviewing the lecture notes in front of you. A few tables away was Kim Namjoon, himself, who, unlike you struggling for an exam, was occupied with a philosophical book. 

In relapses of weakness, you find yourself staring at him a bit longer, drinking him in under the warm light coming through the windows. His dark hair has grown longer, you note, framing his face softly as he peers down at his book. His glasses sat at the bridge of his nose, part of the golden frame glinting in the light. 

The whole scene encapsulates his essence, you think, because while some may be intimidated by Namjoon’s height, build, and prowess, moments like these would show them his gentle nature—how simply content he is with the peace a good book offers. 

His eyes are warm as always when they look at you—wait. You?

Panic shot through you upon realizing Kim Namjoon, himself, is looking at you, offering you a small smile of acknowledgement you could only attempt to smile-grimace at before he decides to go back to his book. 

You, in turn, trained your head down to your notes and textbook, letting your hair hide a good part of your flustered face, but the heavens know you’re not reading about whatever the hell it is you’re meant to be studying for. You are beyond mortified and you could only hope you don’t look like a tomato right now. 

Oh God, may the ground swallow you whole! What if you looked like a weirdo looking at him?!

You didn’t, at all, expect your day to have an interaction with Kim Namjoon. A part of you, remnants of fairytale enthusiasm and wistful thinking, whispers treason into your ears and unleashes butterflies in your belly amidst your panic. 

What if he stares at you every time you look away? 

Imagining Kim Namjoon stealing glances your way, too, only for his eyes to be caught in yours, elicits a more powerful reaction from you than you care to admit. Your heart races and your knee bounces in some poor attempt to distract yourself. You poor soul, you need a minute—go to the bathroom and take a breather or something. 

And so, you did, waiting a few minutes  to seem inconspicuous before you take your phone and wallet with you, and leave everything else to your seat for your supposed bathroom break. 

It seems the universe, however, isn’t done with you, because as you return to your spot, your scattered notes and book was now organized more neatly than when you left it, and atop the pile was your favorite snack, a note and a black hair tie with a small butterfly charm.

You look around the room as you come to take a seat. This part of the library wasn’t as crowded, just you, a couple of professors, Namjoon and two of his friends. You aren’t close with any of them to even think of asking who might’ve left these for you.

What if it’s Namjoon?

You shake the thought away from your head, lest your jitters and delusion get the better of you yet again. Reaching for the note, you read it as you fiddle with the hair band. You’ve lost more hair ties, clips, and scrunchies than you care to count, to be honest, and so this little gift means a lot more for you than anyone else might think. 

You're a butterfly unaware of the awe you transpire with your presence. Don't hide your beauty from the world. 

Yours truly and always,

Your Admirer

P.S. You’ve been studying too hard! I’m sure you’ll do well in your exam either way so take care of yourself more :)

The note brings out a small smile from your lips, both guilty and beholden.  

Everyone has crushes. 

While you didn't think you were crush material, you're flattered still by this person's sweet prose. For a good week or two now, small gifts and letters began reaching you, all under the sender 'your admirer' inked onto paper by a typewriter. They were certainly thorough, you think, for not allowing you to go hunting for handwriting comparisons when the letters were typed in. 

They can almost contend with your feelings for the student body president—almost.  

In a way, you feel for your admirer—a kindred feeling of pining for someone, and yet, you also can't help but feel sorry for them. No one has ever made you catch feelings like Kim Namjoon—not even your favorite celebrity crush. Though you and your admirer have similar situations, however, you must admit that he's commendable in his pursuits compared to you, who is a likely coward for not making any moves to your own crush.  

As it turns out, your admirer has more balls for love than you do—even more than you thought, too. 

Sometime after your dreaded exam, flowers and a note appear at your designated seat in class. It was there before anyone else was in the classroom, a classmate told you as you idly caressed the white petals of the flowers you were given. 

Dearest butterfly, you did great on your exams. I know well that you worked hard for it and I'm so proud of you! 

It’s been three months since I began writing to you, and in three months, I fear my secret is more at risk, the more I hide from you. I know of your hesitation for my gifts and my identity, but I surely hope I haven’t crossed some sort of line in pursuing you. 

I've been mulling it over for a year now, and I've come to realize all I've ever done is pine from afar. Maybe, it's time for me to unmask myself, and look you in the eyes properly. 

If you'd let me, meet me in front of the library at 3 PM. I hope to see you then.

Yours truly and always, 

Your Admirer

Eyes widening at the contents of the letter, you duck away from the hallway and into the bathrooms. What's more is that they've been thinking of confessing for a year? One whole year?!

Damn, you are a coward. 

Compared to your admirer, you're years into crushing, and the most you've done with Namjoon was an idle conversation on a favorite book. You've given shy smiles, wordless support, and embodied his studious nature, but you've never even directly attempted to flirt with Namjoon, himself. 

Is this a sign then from the universe, itself, for you to move on from Kim Namjoon? 

Who is this person?

Curiosity begets you in the end, and here you are at the entrance of the library, five minutes before you were told to come, standing idly and fidgeting with the ends of your cardigan sleeves as you look around the people passing by. Your mind wanders, thinking about what sort of person found you enamoring enough to fall for you in such a way that they would write about their feelings for you in such beautiful words. 

What made them think of you that way? 

Do you know each other? 

How did they find the courage to pursue you?

In time, your eyes see a familiar tall man amongst the crowd, and you dread to think of your admirer and Namjoon being in one place. Your heart can’t take it, having to choose between someone you like and someone that likes you. Meeting your admirer meant giving them a fair chance to sway your heart from Namjoon, and you can’t exactly do that whe—

“(Y/N)?”

A voice, warm and deep, brings you back to reality, and oh God, Kim Namjoon is standing in front of you! 

“Hi,” you meekly smile up at him, eyes quickly looking around and unable to look him in the eyes. Where’s your admirer when you need them? Isn’t it time for you two to meet already?

It was then your eyes caught sight of a familiar looking hair tie with the silver butterfly charm on Namjoon’s wrist. Unconsciously, your hands reach to the back of your head, where your hair tie holds your hair back in a low, haphazard ponytail. 

This, certainly, makes you look up at the man before you, eyes wide upon seeing his shy, dimpled smile and the same small bundle of white flowers he reveals from behind him. "You're my secret admirer?" you could hardly believe the question that left your lips. 

Kim Namjoon’s been writing to you? Giving you small gifts? 

This is a dream. It’s got to be—

Namjoon, to your complete and utter shock, nods his head. "Have I, uh,” he clears his throat, the back of his hand coming to his face as if it’d shield him. “Disappointed you?"

"No!" you immediately shriek, shaking your head. "God, no! I've had a crush on you since eighth grade!" 

Crap. Slapping a hand over your mouth, you wish it’s a dream. Surely, you could do a better confession than this—something less embarrassing.

Kim Namjoon before you is just as shocked to hear of your years long pining, a blush spreading across his face. "We've wasted a lot of time then," he chuckles, rubbing at the back of his neck, still bashful. 

Such words make your heart hurt. "Yeah…" you grimace, regret and remorse swallowing you whole. "I suppose we have."

More courageous than you, Namjoon hands you the flowers, a charming smile on his lips that marks the return of his dimples. "Would you like to go to a museum with me this Saturday?" he asks, making your heart skip a beat. 

Outside of wistful fantasies, you never really thought this day would come. "Of course," you smile, “I’d love to.”

Everyone has crushes. 

You and Namjoon, in a pleasant twist of events, have become one of the lucky ones to have them come into fruition. 

#happy 4 years to me writing shit <3 #LOVING THE NAMJOON REQS #im so so soft #bts au #bts fluff #bts romance #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts drabbles #kim namjoon drabbles #kim namjoon imagines #kim namjoon fluff #kim namjoon x reader

[ghouljams]

Eyyo it’s bad luck anon here (the one who’s dad died and is dealing with the nasty girlfriend in order to get things sorted, I just kinda claimed my name as no luck, just god punching me) and I just found your Viking soap! And good gods in Valhalla I’m going feral chewing at the bars on my enclosure! I practice Nordic rune reading in my daily life and silly little Mr. Clean with his silky little fur cape shawl and his silly little healer (who I have dubbed Othala after the elder Ruth ark rune Othala which when pulled in a rune reading can represent ancestry, prosperity, and experience!) Viking soap has made my day today!

-🎱

Othala is good. I love a runic name for our new little viking doctor. I'm still trying to keep them from venturing too far into the OC realm but I will keep Othala in mind!

I'm sorry to hear you're still having some bad luck friend, but it has to break eventually and give way to good things. They're on their way! Slowly but surely. I'm glad viking Soap could help relieve the blues a little.

#ghoul speaks #viking soap is a good good boy #trying to do his best by his darling

[ciaossu-imagines]

Saiyuki, Circus/freakshow AU

Of course, anon dear! Thank you so much for the request and I am sorry it took so long to answer! I hope you'll enjoy the headcanons nonetheless and the AU I came up with!

So, in this universe we're setting up here, there is still a fantasy element. Magic does still exist, but it's very much not a normal and everyday thing. Most people can go their entire lives without seeing anything magical. Magical items and creatures tend to be hard to find and hidden away and those people with magic in their veins…they learn to hide it very well as they are often feared or exploited.

There is one place people can go to experience magic at least once, if they have the money to pay to experience it, of course. And the magic people and creatures they see are definitely exploited. Gyumaoh's Magical, Mystical Travelling Circus is something everyone has heard tales and rumours about. If you're lucky enough for them to come to your town, people flock to even catch a single glimpse of the brightly coloured tents, hope to sneak a peek at the 'sideshow's' hidden within. People will sell precious treasures, take loans against their homes, anything to see the show because the Circus represents really the only chance most people will get to experience something truly magical, especially in a safe manner and though people do fear magic, they are also enchanted and curious and full of the desire to witness it for themselves.

The Circus sounds wonderful, at least to the normal citizens of the world. The truth is, for those 'employed' by the Circus, and that word is in quotes as I'm using the term extremely loosely, the reality is very different. A magic hunter from the time he was very young, Gyumaoh built his Circus by stealing magical items and capturing and enslaving any creature or human with magic in them. But wait, you might say. How can a mere mortal enslave someone or something that is clearly magical and probably has defenses and powers they do not?

One, a lot of magical beings, be they creature or animal, are normally either outcast by society because of that attitude of fear and distrust, or they're trying so hard to hide their magic that they've ended up homeless, just barely scraping by if they're not homeless, they've ended up without families and close friends to better keep their secrets, or they've ended up in worse situations, with much more powerful people using them, oftentimes for extremely hard and dangerous labour.

Gyumaoh seems to have an almost uncanny luck for finding those magical things and creatures, and even more luck finding the downtrodden or exploited magical people. He seems nice and charming at first and the Circus is so well-known at some point that these magical people really believe the well-crafted and sold lies Guymaoh or his people give them…that the Circus can give them a clean, soft, comfortable home full of people who will love them, and they can use their magic to entertain people, to show the general populace that magic isn't a bad thing, but a wondrous one. Gyumaoh is good with words and charm, as are his fellow recruiters, his mistress Gyokumen Koushou, and his right-hand man Dr. Ni Jianyi. They're wily, silver-tongued and it's very, very rare they need to use force to get what they want, though all three of them are capable of doing so. Normally the magical people sign the contracts to join the Circus all on their own…and these contracts themselves are magical.

The second these magical beings prick their fingers and put their bleeding fingertip to the paper, as is the way to sign it, they sign over their lives to Gyumaoh, become his to control and command. These people, because of the contract, cannot seem to get further than fifty feet away from the Circus once the contracts are signed and if they do, the contracts are written in such a way that the person would be in unimaginable pain every second if they did venture further than that, making them easy to track down and bring back, if they did not return willingly themselves.

Gyumaoh's Magical, Mystical Circus really does succeed and it makes Gyumaoh himself a very rich man. Gyumaoh travelled alongside the Circus for many years, but because he is only human himself, he does what all people do. He grows older and older. He exploits magic he's found to extend his life and his health, but nothing completely stops the passage of time and he is growing old and sickly. He's currently not able to continue travelling with the Circus and it's rumoured among the Circus folk that he might finally be on his death bed, though they know better than to honestly hope for such a thing.

While he can no longer be there, day to day with the Circus, it is left in the hands of his beloved left-hand woman and aforementioned mistress, Gyokumen Koushou. And if the Circus folk thought Gyumaoh was bad…this woman is brutal, cold, and honestly seems to get off on making the Circus folk miserable. She sees them very much as less than human and she's cunning and crafty enough to do anything to achieve her own goals. And what are her goals, you might ask? For one, she wants to be absolutely filthy, stinking rich. Not only does she want a fortune of her own, but she wants the huge fortune Gyumaoh himself has amassed, and rumours state she might not only be behind Gyumaoh's illness but his wive's recent disappearance. For another, she wants the secrets to magic and to know how to harness those for herself.

Which is where Gyumaoh's trusted right-hand man comes in. Dr. Ni Jianyi seems to have with the Circus for as long as anyone can remember. Though he, in title, serves as the Circus' doctor and is supposed to look after the health and wellness of every single magical person, he's really with the Circus because Gyumaoh and Gyokumen Koushou both allowed him what he really wanted - research subjects. He's allowed to perform countless human experiments on those with magical powers as he seeks to gain all the knowledge about magic, what it truly is, where it comes from and why, and how normal, every day people can use and harness it. And he performs these human experiments with an almost terrifying zeal and level of sadism that makes him, quite honestly, the most feared person among those who are 'employed' by the Circus.

Now to go into the actual members of the Circus. Son Goku has actually been with the Circus the longest. Nobody's quite sure just how long besides those running the Circus. He was, in fact, Gyumaoh's first recruited member, sold to the public under the name of 'The Immortal Boy'. He is magical, yes…he never ages. Not even Goku himself knows where he actually comes from or how long he has been alive and he heals from all wounds. Members of the crowd are selected during Goku's exhibit, where he is chained to the floor, hands and ankles shackled, and those selected get to do any amount of harm, especially things that would kill normal folks, to prove his immortality. For his entire servitude with the Circus, when not on display, Goku was kept contained in a cage he cannot escape from, with only Circus' upper three as companionship. Gyumaoh couldn't allow his precious treasure to have any freedom, independence, or chance of escape, especially as Goku is not only his biggest draw and the crowd favourite, but is sort of a cautionary tale among the other Circus members of how much worse things can get whenever they feel the need to rebel.

So, Goku had never known anyone but Gyumaoh, Gyokumen Koushou, and Dr. Ni…that is, until the Circus 'recruited' Genjo Sanzo. Sanzo was an orphan, left to die of exposure in a basket on the river. He was found, at that time, by Ukoku Sanzo, who gave the baby a name and took him in. Ukoku raised Genjo with a completely normal life…almost. See, both Ukoku and Genjo were people blessed with magic, and Ukoku drilled it into Genjo early on that their magic was to stay hidden, to never use it. He told the young boy what Genjo always thought were just tall tales, cautionary tales, of a group of evil thiefs who came to steal magic if it was ever left loose and who would kill anyone who got in their way. But, unbeknownst to Genjo, at least at that time, not only were the tall tales all true but his precious father figure, the only person Genjo ever grew close to and loved, was the only member of Circus to ever escape, to ever thwart the contract and though his name was different then, he's become the stuff of legends to the Circus members, their own bedtime story.

Though it took years and year, Circus did find Ukoku though. In particular, Dr. Ni found Ukoku, who had formerly been his second-favourite test subject, right behind Goku. Honestly, it was only due to Genjo accidentally breaking the one rule, his magic exploding on a group of older boys who were badly bullying and almost torturing him. That hint of magic led Circus to investigate and when they investigated, Ni recognized Ukoku out in town. While Genjo was out to run errands, Dr. Ni tortured, interrogated, slaughtered Ukoku and, when the boy came back, Ni abducted the just tweenage age Genjo to take back to Circus.

Genjo is an odd addition to Circus. After Ni's repeated taunts about how Ukoku's death was all his fault, after all his experimentation on Genjo, Genjo refuses, even under torture, even under Ni's experiments, even under threats and severe mistreatment, to use his magic. Not only won't he use it for Circus, he refuses to use his magic again period. He had broken the rule once, after all, and it had led to the destruction of his whole world. He would respect Ukoku and love him moving forward by making sure to never break that rule again. So, since he cannot be made a side-show, and to continue his punishment and try to get him to break and grow compliant, Sanzo becomes the servant of even the servants. He's made to serve, set up, clean up, cook and feed the many performers and Circus' top three. He's underfed himself, exhausted physically and allowed little rest time. However, it's through that work that Sanzo meets Goku and the two strike up an odd, but enduring friendship. In the little time Sanzo can scrape out, he ends up camping besides Goku's cage, and the two boys grow to rely on each other, make each other feel stronger, more normal.

And the two boys grow to three and then to four with first the addition of Sha Gojyo. And oh boy, my lovelies, buckle up because the story of how Gojyo came to be a part of the Circus is not for the faint of heart. Gojyo was a bastard child, born out of his magical father's affair with a normal woman. The woman, after learning her child would likely be born with some degree of magical ability, and of her lover's own magical abilities, was disgusted, devastated and frightened. She wanted to get rid of the unborn child and would have…if Gojyo's father had not stopped her, held her captive until she birthed the child. The official story is she died in childbirth but only three people know the truth…Gojyo's father was actually married and his wife, after learning of her husband's affair and after months of having to look at his lover and take care of her snapped and attempted to kill Gojyo's mother. Gojyo's father stopped her, at first…then he made a bargain. He allowed his wife to butcher Gojyo's mother, with the compromise that she never harm his bastard son and agree to raise him alongside their legitimate son, Sha Jien. The worst part? Jien might have been very young, but he was old enough to realize what was happening and he witnessed the whole thing. However, the wife kept to her side of the bargain, raising Gojyo, though reluctantly so (as in she very much ignored and insulted him at every opportunity), at least up until Gojyo's late childhood, when his father died. After that, with her husband no longer around, her rage at the child grew and she started to brutally beat him whenever she could. Jien was always Gojyo's best friend, his protector, his beloved big brother, and Jien stepped in to calm his mother's temper, to protect his younger brother. What with Gojyo's father being magical, the wife being magical, and Jien being magical, the family had always been on the Circus' radar, but they didn't swoop in to grab anyone until that day…when Jien's mother tried to kill Gojyo. It was chaos and Gojyo's own magical powers awakened that day, though in the end it was Jien who actually killed his own mother, doing so to save his brother.

Gyumaoh was the one to actually take in the brother's. Well, kind of. See, it was decided that taking both into Circus as performers or servants would be too risky. The two together would be too much a source of support to each other, would give each other too much confidence and power. So Gyumaoh, in the aftermath of the chaos, when the boys were too dazed or, in Gojyo's case, unconscious in the wake of his powers, separated the two boys. Sha Jien was the boy left conscious, the one most aware, the one considered the most powerful and the one who Gyumaoh decided was the biggest threat. So he used a threat of his own - join Circus, and with Jien's superhuman strength and proven willingness to kill, become the private guard of Gyumaoh's own son, Kougaiji. And in return, Gyumaoh would spare the life of Jien's precious little brother and would take him in and give him a good life somewhere lovely. Too bad Gyumaoh doesn't exactly keep his promises, though Jien, renamed Dokugakuji to hide his status as the missing Sha Jien, witness and person of interest in his mother's murder, spent most of his life believing that Gyumaoh had.

Gojyo meanwhile, was taken immediately to Circus, told that his whole family had died and that he had been the one who killed both his 'mother' and his brother. Ni performed various experiments to enhance Gojyo's weak magical strength, told him he was giving the boy the chance to atone by using his magic, the magic that had murdered his family, for something good, for the amusement, astonishment, and delight of people. And so Gojyo becomes the Circus' strongman act, though he isn't treated much better than most of the performers, and still has to abide by the strict contracts that make his time in the Circus more indentured servitude. However, it's during this time that he and Sanzo meet. The two definitely don't get along, they fight more often than not, but maybe it's because the boys are around each other's ages, the only kids really around each other's ages at that time, but Gojyo kind of becomes interested in making friends. He follows Sanzo on one of Sanzo's visits to Goku and the three meet and it's with the addition of Goku that the three of them really stumble into this dysfunctional, bickering, weird and wonderful little friendship.

A friendship that is only added to when the Circus recruits a sixteen year old boy named Cho Hakkai. Hakkai's another one with a troubled past. An orphan who learned to use his own innate magic, the ability to know things simply by touching a person or object, to survive, becoming an expert grifter and pickpocket, found, at some point in time, a girl named Kanan who he ended up falling in puppy love with. Together, the two of them managed to make enough money to settle into a small town together. They lived together, presenting as a young couple starting their life together, both of them keeping their magic secret. Problem is, their magic was very similar and, as their relationship grew more loving and physical, they learned the truth - they were actually siblings. By then, though, they were too much in love, they were already a couple and they wanted to continue living their lives together. Both of them were already on Circus' radar, but Cho became a real target after, on his travels to make money, he found an injured baby dragon, something very, very rare. He named the dragon Jeep and took it in. The possibility of gaining a magical person and a rare magical creature was too much for Circus and Jianyi was sent to bring them in. And he managed to bring Cho and Jeep in…by having his own fun. It's unknown how exactly Jianyi gained his knowledge but he knew about the siblings actual connection to each other and he let it loose, through the grapevine, of their being not only siblings, but twins, in an incestuous relationship. The village not only shunned them, but bullied them badly in the next weeks, to the point where Kanan could no longer handle it. Jianyi had properly called her as too weak-minded for Circus, it seemed, because under the extreme persecution from the townspeople, she took her own life.

Left grieving and with his life in shambles, the only happiness he'd ever found taken away, the recently re-orphaned Hakkai was left susceptible to Jianyi's offer. He could find a new home in the Circus, where he would be taken care of and could learn to really harness and improve his magical gifts…improve them enough to take revenge on the town that had caused Kanan's death. The Circus could give that to him. So he signed the contract without a second thought.

Too bad that Circus was definitely not what Jianyi advertised it as. Hakkai was experimented on and he did gain much better control and more power, but he was so heavily drugged up and exhausted that he couldn't even think about getting away. He became the Circus' slave, both keeper of Jeep (as the dragon refused to behave and obey anyone other than Hakkai) and an act as a fortune teller, which people paid handsomely for. Unlike Sanzo and Gojyo, who didn't get along at all at first, Cho and Gojyo really hit it off when they met. It was through Gojyo that Hakkai found his first friend and grew to find more friends in Sanzo and Goku.

The four boys grew together, talked late into the nights, and though they argued and fought and seemed at times to almost hate each other, their bond became almost unbreakable, though they were all smart enough to keep it under wraps just how much so it was. Sometime throughout their years together in the Circus, the idea of a break-out, of an escape from Circus, got tossed out. At first it was just talk, just a wonderful dream to pass the time but I think at some point, the four of them really began to take it seriously. They plotted, planned, studied…and it worked, because they found a secret. They not only figured a way to break Goku loose from his chains, but they find a secret, a way out and they orchestrate the second breakout in the entire history of Circus.

Now, Gyokumen Koushou and Dr. Nii are definitely not happy about this breakout, especially given how precious and treasured a few of those escapees are. With Gyumaoh sick, Gyokumen Koushou really runs the show and she hasn't just been running Circus, but she's been meddling in other things. Her lover's legitimate wife, Rasetsunyo…nothing can be proven, but it's a pretty open secret that Gyokumen had the woman institunionalized. Rasetsunyo, mother of Gyumaoh's legimate son and heir to his fortune, is so heavily drugged and the institution won't allow Kougaiji visits with her, on Gyokumen's orders, as she's Gyumaoh's power of attorney and she gets to make those decisions.

And this is something she uses to her advantage to manipulate and use Kougaiji. She orders Kougaiji to track down and recapture the escapee's, using his own team, consisting of his bodyguard, Dokugakuji, and his childhood friend and a magical person with the ability to heal, Yaone. However, she also adds her own child with Gyumaoh, Lirin to his team, with orders to her daughter to keep an eye on the team and let her mother know if they weren't taking their orders with the utmost serious attitudes. However, this plan doesn't quite go to plan because honestly, Lirin has never really been coddled or even noticed by her mother, has always been super curious about the world outside Circus itself, and because she was never allowed to meet her half-brother, she's really just interested in getting to know him and spend time with him.

So the story really becomes the tale of their breakout, of their race to keep Circus from finding them, and Team Kougaiji really getting into all these hijinks trying to first find and then recapture the Sanzo Group, since they always seem to evade Team Kougaiji or end up beating them and re-escaping. It's by turns fun, funny, angsty, and uplifting and if I was to sit and write out the story, I can guarantee this would be a long, epic one, with a large focus really being on the character's, their stories and growth, and the bonds the characters all begin to grow and develop with each other.

#replies #saiyuki #headcanons #au headcanons #circus au #genjo sanzo #cho hakkai #sha gojyo #son goku #kougaiji #dokugakuji #yaone #lirin #nii jianyi

[sithisreadingcorner]

September Tarot Readings! 🍂✨🍁

It's finally here! Happy fall, everyone! Who is ready for a monthly tarot reading?!

Send me an ask. You don't HAVE to ask a question, but you can.

You will receive a really attentive, thoughtful and personalized reading using about 3 items (may it be cards or otherwise).

There is one caveat: your ask HAS to comply with ALL of the HOUSE RULES, which can be found here (desktop/mobile). This is mandatory to read because I need you to know this to be able to provide you the best reading I can. Asks that ignore any of the house rules WILL NOT be answered.

You will have to read the whole page (not just the upper half) and prove it to me that you did the way that I ask on the rules page.

(To ease it on the eyes and minds, I highlighted every important part so that you can skim it all quickly and have every requirement anyway. Please do that at least)

You would think that's easy enough, but experience proves that you are venturing where on average, no less than three out of four journeyers who try to reach out to me fail. So are you up for the challenge to become The One?! 👁️‍🗨️

The readings are always free but if you feel like they resonated, I welcome pay-what-you-want donations through my ko-fi. Donators are thanked with additional, extended (and extremely detailed) readings that are independent of the monthly slots and can be exchanged at any time. You can use this to expand on your current question, or ask something else at a later date.

If your birthday is this month, and you send me an ask off-anon that complies with everything else, you'll get a FREE EXTENDED reading as a birthday gift from me.

There are 8 slots this month (some of them are already taken) but don't be shy to reach out - I might do more if I have the time. Good luck!

Fare well, and be TRICKY🍁🥧✨🤎🍂

#tarot #oracle #runes #free tarot readings #divination #witch #witchblr #pagan #paganism

[sitp-recs]

Hi Liv!

I remember a while ago I read a fic where Harry did some work for the ministry that included going though the veil of death, it was quite angsty and I loved reading it, but I can't remember who wrote it or the title and I couldn't find it on ao3☹️ Maybe you or your followers remember the title maybe? Also, I love your blog, your recs are always impeccable 💖 ty💖

Hello anon! Thank you for your lovely words :) Your ask made me immediately think of On The Last Day by trishjames (a brilliant, intriguing and heartbreaking mystery I have yet to write a proper rec for!) but I’m not sure I got it right. In any case your post inspired me to do a “Veil of Death” reclist since it’s such an interesting concept! I hope you find the fic you mentioned here but if not, maybe my followers can help?

What Compels a Man by @floydig (2021, T, 300 words)

Death comes to you in the form of a man. He has long, light hair, two eyes, a nose, and a large mouth. His mouth is so large, you think he could swallow you whole. You wonder what he looks like on the inside.

Death in Three Acts by @m0srael (2021, G, 300 words)

Harry stands before The Veil for a third and final time.

And He Alone Sits Lingering Here by khasael (2011, T, 1.6k)

Draco is worried about his Auror partner, but it's Harry Potter – he can survive anything, right? Maybe not... unless Draco helps.

The Keepers by @jackvbriefs (2021, T, 3.6k)

In the Rare Books Department of the Ministry of Magic, Draco tends to unique texts and, on occasion, a certain Unspeakable.

A Little Death Never Hurt Anyone by @tackytigerfic (2021, E, 4.2k)

Harry's getting good at slipping through the Veil. He's determined to win the war, even if means he has to raise the dead to do it. Draco just wants a stiff drink and a good night's sleep.

Dark Land of Wonders by Lomonaaeren (2015, E, 19k)

Venturing inside the Veil is no easy thing for anyone — except Harry Potter, the Master of Death. And when it becomes too easy, when Potter disappears in search of his godfather, then it becomes the responsibility of Unspeakable Draco Malfoy to bring him back out.

On the Last Day by @thusspoketrish (2020, E, 53k)

Draco is still mourning the recent loss of his mother when the Wizarding World is struck with the tragic news of Harry Potter’s untimely death. It’s just his luck that Potter not only comes back as a ghost, but seems intent on haunting Draco as he’s the only one that can see him. It’s a race against time to retrace the last few days of Potter’s life in order to find his body before he’s lost to the living or spiritual realm forever. On their journey, they’ll uncover secrets, betrayals, and a horrific truth that will disrupt both the living and the dead.

Timecode by Rasborealis (2019, M, 73k)

Harry Potter has been dead for two years, and Draco would laugh in the face of anyone claiming differently. Well, anyone but Hermione Granger.

Thank you @stavromulabetaaa for reccing:

Blood Magic series by houseofhebrideanblacks, Thestralsofspinnersend (2018, E, 335k)

Harry Potter has decided to die. Draco Malfoy may be the only one who has noticed.

#asks #anon #drarry reclist #veil of death

[ratblazer]

Some people struggle with eyes, or hands. But for me? It's the mouth. It either looks wrong on the face, or it makes the expression look VERY weird in a bad way XD I'll get it eventually, just not right this hour.

good luck on your mouth drawing venture, anon. I think my biggest struggle is noses. Especially because I gave Johm a pointy rat nose and they're so difficult to draw from the front!

#shut up beth

[i-did-not-mean-to]

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about! ~~~ Happy Holidays! <3

Hello Anon...

I have thought about this one extensively...and decided to go with this one...

39. Is any aspect of your writing process inspired by other writers or people? If so, who?

YESSSSS This answer will be very long, so please find my fawning over other people under the cut.

I am deeply inspired and motivated by other writers, their creativity, and their talent.

I look up to @lathalea and @lordoftherazzles when it comes to creating a compelling storyline.

Whenever I read @legolasbadass or @linasofia, I remember to describe surroundings and I yet I know I'll never reach their level of skill.

@middleearthpixie reminds me of how much fun AUs and ideas can be and makes me feel good about my own silly ideas.

@laurfilijames makes me brave enough to put that smut out there.

@mismaeve & @heilith remind me that pain can be poetic.

@thenookienostradamus and @scyllas-revenge as well as @the-girl-with-the-algebra-book make me wish I was a little funnier myself.

@arofili and @last-capy-hupping have inspired me to go out of my comfort zone and write things I've never thought I'd dare.

@maglor-my-beloved makes me remember how much I love reading and writing with every single piece of theirs.

@cuarthol and @polutrope inspire me to do better and work harder by being shining beacons of written beauty.

@cilil, @the-red-butterfly, @randomly-generated-name, @lycheesodas and so many others have given me a love of other pairings and new ventures that make my skin tingle.

The mods of many an event (I, of course, have entirely forgotten their tumblr handles, but if they see it, I hope they'll know) are true role models to me. I look up to their artistry so much!

I am sure that I've forgotten half the people who inspire me on the daily; I am so sorry.

I have spent my whole October writing pairings that I've shamelessly stolen from other authors (Masterlist here), so I can safely say that I am deeply inspired by other people.

I wouldn't be here anymore without my friends, my idols, my beloved anons...I really did not mean to end up here and yet, I love it and I am honoured to have so many excellent authors (and artists) to look up to.

Most of all, these people and many more (you who are reading this, probably!) make me love words, stories, feelings, and characters.

I'd be nothing and nobody without you all!

Thank you!

And good luck for the last days of 2022.

#ask #IDNMT answers #Anonymous #ask game #Long answer

[streaminn]

I wouldn't mind reading a Coffee Shop story, Coffee Anon.

My reading comprehension is shot because good lord do I not really know what that means, but guess what! Life is about venturing into the unknown! (it's not your fault; I am confused often.)

Good luck, my sibling in Wenclair!

-Writer Anon.

A coffee shop story is usually just a story set in a coffee shop

So like, think coffee anon writing all of us vibing at a Starbucks

Where I guess me, you and a few other anons are at!

#Writer anon

[chemblrish]

Hello!! Remember an anon ask that had some questions in it and a little story about anon and their father? It's me again lol

Do you know any very good chemistry books? Even though i like chemistry, i only study school chemistry, and i would like to expand my knowledge of this science. Do the books have russian translation?

Have you ever had days when you didn’t want to study and quit everything because of laziness? How did you force yourself to study? I'm a little scared for my future if I can't overcome laziness

Have a good day. I hope you'll understand my English :")

Hi, yes, I remember you!

Back in hs I only studied off Polish textbooks, so I don't really have anything to recommend on a school level, but if you're not afraid to venture a little further, I'd recommend Chemistry: Molecules, Matter and Change by P. Atkins and L. Jones. I used it a lot during my first semester of uni and I think it was a nice link between high school and uni. It's a beast of a book, but it covers pretty much all of chemistry (on a "first semester" level of course) and there are tons of diagrams, pictures, and tips on how to solve numerical problems. It's very popular, so there's a high chance it has a Russian translation too :)

If you're interested in popsci books, I'd highly recommend The Disappearing Spoon and Caesar's Last Breath by Sam Kean. I enjoyed them both very much.

But also, there's a girl from Belarus in my year who often uses Russian textbooks and she's very content with them, so maybe it's worth asking your chemistry teacher or a librarian? They might know of some hidden gems :)

Truth be told, I'm fairly disciplined with studying, so I'm afraid I don't have any good tips on dealing with laziness. But I think we often say "lazy" when in fact we mean "tired", "overwhelmed" or "discouraged".

I don't consider myself lazy, but I can definitely get tired, overwhelmed or discouraged sometimes. There's plenty of advice on studying when tired circulating around studyblr, but I believe the most productive thing you can do when you're exhausted is to rest and without shame at that. Whenever I'm overwhelmed by a particular task, I start by studying something else, then return to the more difficult topic.

As for getting discouraged... I think it's a matter of one's mindset. Chemistry is hard, failure is common, and I'd be a liar to say my own shortcomings don't bother me. They do! But I've been learning to just move on. I give myself one afternoon to recover if I need to, then remind myself the only way not to mess up is to do absolutely nothing, and that in the end it's all about learning and enjoying this precious opportunity to be in uni and to study science. That's what keeps me going (and what's probably a big component of my discipline).

So, don't get too comfortable calling yourself lazy 😉 Always try to see what the real problem is. Those are usually much easier to solve than "laziness". Good luck! 🍀

#if anyone has any other chemistry (text)book recs please do share them! #studyblr #chemblr #chemistry #inbox #stemblr #sciblr #chemistry asks

[rwprincess]

OK!! HI- I’m the person who wondered if you did make fics because fred :}} I was wondering if you could try fred and a male reader that is sorta his enemy but like a enemy to lovers sorta thing!!! (if you can’t do male go for gn we love gn reader appreciation <3)

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.7K

Request: Anon- ”OK!! HI- I’m the person who wondered if you did make fics because fred :}} I was wondering if you could try fred and a male reader that is sorta his enemy but like a enemy to lovers sorta thing!!! (if you can’t do male go for gn we love gn reader appreciation <3) “

A/N: I really appreciate your request, anon. And I liked the challenge, but I’m not sure I served you well. I really struggled with this piece. :/

Synopsis: You and Fred used to be best friends, but you drifted apart. When he has to interview you after a heroic basketball win, he learns that it wasn’t just a friendly falling out.

CW:  Homophobia cuz it’s the 80s (internalized homophobia, worry/concern about acceptance); unresolved-ish ending?; angry, angsty (angstry?) Fred;  I’m assuming inaccuracies because I don’t actually know sports/basketball

It was impossible to pinpoint the exact moment of the falling out between you and Fred. Maybe it was a gradual series of events that widened the chasm of your friendship, a cliff that he fell off headfirst into and one you never looked back from. If he had to guess, he'd say it was the end of freshman year that really clenched it, but you'd been distant for awhile. You no longer needed the security of an old friend and reinvented yourself, fitting into a new crowd that didn't include him. 

He watched with passive, but seething irritation as you sank another shot into the basket. He loathed newspaper assignments that led him here to report on you and the teammates you had left him for. What he hated more was that you were actually good at it. You'd found your niche and he'd found his, so he shouldn't be bitter. But he was. The two of you used to share everything and he could always count on you. And now you were here with the other neanderthals and sports maniacs, people you used to make fun of together. Sometimes people change, he thought, and lamented the fact.

Another netted swish, another victorious roar from his replacements on your behalf. Fred swallowed thickly, drowning his anxious nausea down into the pit of his stomach, pushing it down, down, until it was something he could walk on and hopefully ignore. He always protested these assignments, but he could never reveal the real reason why: he missed you. It was an ever-present gnawing loss and it was impossible to mourn because you weren't actually gone. He saw you every day, thriving without him. 

Fred turned away from looking at you, that betrayed feeling bubbling up, and turned to say something to Nancy, who was accompanying him on this venture. However, she was no longer standing close enough to hear one of his snarky remarks. His eyes panned the gym for her, and spotted her leaning against the bleacher railing’s outside, looking positively green. Oh, shit.

“Hey, uh…Nancy? Are you okay?” He approached her and could see the sweat beading on her face, which she shook quickly in response.

“No…I. I think I’m going to be sick. I’m sorry, Fred. But you’re going to have to do this.” She shoved her notebook clumsily into his hands and bolted out the doors with a heavy clang, too quick to hear his desperate pleas to the contrary. Fred thought he had lucked out in asking Nancy to come and do the interview for him. At first, he tried to be aloof and acted as though he just didn’t want to do another sports interview, but when she started to refuse and put the work back on him, he desperately explained that he specifically couldn’t talk to you.

“Please, Nancy. We were friends a long time ago and I don’t even know why we stopped being friends, but I don’t think he wants to talk to me. And I sure as hell don’t want to interview him.” He’d left out the part where you left him specifically to join the team, which added another layer of insult to the injury of abandonment in the first place. At the time, Nancy had taken pity on him and agreed to do the interview, as long as Fred did the bulk of the play-by-plays. But now, she was clearly out of commission and he’d have to do it himself. 

As the final buzzer rang and your team celebrated, Fred gave himself his own sort of pep-talk. “It’s your duty as a reporter. They trust you to get the story. Whether you like the assignment or not, you have to get the story.” He continued muttering to himself in a near-chant as he paced the gym, patrons spilling out the doors and back into the real world. 

“Fred?” Your voice shattered his concentration and completely obliterated his goal. He stopped mid-stride and turned towards you. Freshly showered, the loose and sleeveless uniform tank ditched for a clean hooded sweatshirt under a denim jacket. You felt hot and flushed, and doubted it was from the multiple layers or the exhilaration of the game.

“Hi. I’m your interviewer.” He replied, curtly, cutting to the chase.

“I thought---”

“Nancy got sick. I’m taking over for her, but I have her questions.” He cut you off, waving a notebook, tension already palpable.

“Okay…” you started, hesitantly, setting down your duffle bag. “I guess we should start then?” This was already the longest conversation the two of you had had in over a year.

“Yeah, we’ll get it over with. I’m sure you have some victorious partying to do with your,” you swallowed hard as he paused, then spit the last word out with a healthy dose of venom, “friends.” You shuffled, at a loss for words or how to combat his thinly-veiled hostility. He flipped open the small notebook.

“So, first off is about strategy. What did your team do to prepare for tonight’s game and what did you do, specifically?” Fred narrated Nancy’s scrawl from the book and didn’t look up to meet your eye. When he finished his sentence, you began, carefully and professionally.

“Well, we have our typical top-secret playbook that we study. We prepare different formations and try to predict what the other team might try, and how to counteract it. We also sometimes study tapes of the other teams and look for patterns and moves they like to try. As for myself, I really try to focus on my role and how to help my team. Each person working in tandem is what makes the difference.” 

Fred was scribbling as you spoke, but you saw him pause. He had forgotten the way you spoke: the words were always the ones you meant and drove the point home efficiently and intelligently. He was glad to see that much hadn’t changed. But, as you spoke about your desire to help your team, he snorted derisively. You ignored it and moved on, “We also have pretty strict workout regimens. We have practice most weekdays, but we’re also scheduled time in the gym or with a trainer, or we’re encouraged to meet up and play against each other as well.”

“Okay, next question: how does it feel to…oh my God, Nancy, really? I took you for a more serious journalist than this.” Fred sputtered and frowned. You started to lean a little forward to see what was written but then realized who you were leaning towards and snapped backwards.

“What? What does it say?”

“‘How does it feel to be regarded as a ‘star,’ when you’re still an underclassman’? Which, if you ask me, is fawning garbage.” He looked at your shocked expression with your eyes screwed up. “No offense, I just mean…that’s such a ridiculous question. Like one an average fan would ask. Not someone writing an article.”

“Right…” you hesitated, uncertain he didn’t mean to offend you. You had gathered how incensed Fred was towards you, long before this conversation. You understood it, and it was partially what you wanted. You had done the leaving and had been determined to drive a wedge between you two. Of course…you had your reasons.

“So, I guess, ‘how does it feel to be a star’?” Fred asked mockingly, and you sort of chuckled, then shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. Even without the contention, Fred had always made you nervous.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I don’t really feel like I am. I know it’s a corny answer to say we’re a team and we’re evenly matched or something. But that’s not it…I mean, some of us are clearly better than others--”

“You sure you want me to quote you on that?” Fred scoffed, cutting you off.

“Fine. We all have different strengths. But I don’t think I’m the star. I’ve had some lucky turnouts and I enjoy it, but I don’t feel like I’m that important. We all play as a team and that’s what makes the difference.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t like them cheering your name? Picking you up on their shoulders? People wanting to write articles about your stardom?”

“I don’t really notice it, no. I mean, in the moment, yeah sure. It’s nice to be recognized. But it’s not that noticeable in the day-to-day.”

“In the day-to-day?” Fred followed up, incredulously, “you mean you don’t notice people clapping you on the back with congratulations or the girls falling all over themselves for you? Because I sure do.” You swallowed thickly. You had thought that if you left, if you pushed him away before you got too close, that he would eventually forget about you. But, apparently he had not.

“You--you notice me?” You asked softly and shyly, looking down to your sneakers.

“Of course! How could I not? You’re the talk of the town, hotshot!” He started quickly with anger, but devolved into something else. “And you…you used to be my friend. Of course I’m still looking for you. At you. Whatever. I mean, I still notice your existence, if that’s what you’re asking.”

You sat in stunned silence. About a year ago, it had all become too much and you realized that you felt something more for Fred, and for guys in general, than you ‘should.’ It was something that could get you driven out of town, at best. To protect yourself, and more importantly, Fred, you decided it was best to not stay friends. You pulled away and joined the basketball team to focus on something else, to make the loss sting less, not that it truly worked, but it provided a comfortable numbing most days. And now your former best friend admitted that he wasn’t over you, either. 

“I didn’t know…I didn’t think---”

“That I wouldn’t ‘notice’ you choosing a different life? Starting over and becoming a jock? You may have completely forgotten about me, but I didn’t forget about you.” He drew closer and your breath hitched. Of course, Fred was in no physical condition to fight you and you both knew that. No, your breathing stopped because of the surge of familiar feelings. The butterflies hit you all at once like they used to. But instead of enjoying his fiery passion or feeling queasy at the sweetness of his smile, you felt an ache; he really disliked you. You couldn’t fault him for that, but it hurt. You felt the rejection you always assumed you’d receive and tried to head off by separating from him in the first place.

“It’s not like that, Fred. I--I wasn’t trying to become someone new. I just kind of found basketball and---”

“Oh, so you’re going to claim it wasn’t intentional to completely drop me? Scrape me out of your life like gum on your shoe?”

“I--I--!” You stammered, but came up short. There wasn’t much of a defense here. You clearly had hurt him more than you had meant to and that irreparable damage had festered into, well, this. You had avoided conversation for so long and hoped he’d just forget you and move on, find new friends like you had. Ones that deserved him and his trust. Instead, you had left him bruised and scarred. The realization cut into you like a white-hot knife, but you tried to hide the emotions bubbling up.

"Then what was all this for? You dropped off the face of the earth and stopped being my friend! It isn't because you wanted to be popular? A basketball god?" Fred interrogated, heaping on questions in angry rapid-fire blows.

"No! I did it to get away from you!" Your exasperated words hit him hard, devastating blows. "Shit, Fred, that's not what I mean." But he was already storming out, you looked cautiously over your shoulder making sure you were alone and started to jog towards him. "Fred!" You called out. He was surprisingly fast and was walking too quickly away from you to catch up to, so you blurted out the truth, "it was because I had feelings for you!" He stilled along the court side, just long enough for you to approach. 

“What? What was that?” He asked, voice low and eyes darting from you to the various exits and empty spaces in the gym, which seemed to grow larger by the second, its looming maw threatening to swallow you whole in your embarrassment.

“Fff-” You bit back the swear on your tongue and bounced on the balls of your feet. To hell with it, may as well risk it all. You’ve come this far. “Listen, Fred. I---We were close, right? And I felt like maybe we were getting too close; I liked you as maybe more than a friend. And I didn’t know what to do about it, so I ran. I pushed you away so you couldn’t hurt me, so I didn’t have to deal with it, and so…so we wouldn’t both get our asses kicked, okay? You know how Hawkins is. I couldn’t---I can’t let something like that happen to you, to be the cause of it, you know?”

Normally Fred was whip-smart and miles ahead in any conversation, but his brain still snagged on the part where you had said that you liked him as maybe more than a friend. “What do you mean, ‘maybe?’” he figured he’d address that first. You blinked at him, not comprehending. “You said you ‘maybe’ liked me as more than a friend. Well, did you or didn’t you?”

“I did. I still do. I didn’t realize---” you swallowed thickly, “I didn’t think you still cared, that it hurt you that I broke things off and moved away. But I still think about you. All the time.” You felt jittery on the inside with this admission, your flight-or-fight instincts kicking in and you felt like you should bolt, but Fred surprisingly took your hand in his. Long, deft fingers gently holding your own, grounding you.

“I never stopped thinking about you. Or worrying about you. But…why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was so scared. I still am, Freddie.” You choked his name out, strained, but he smiled gently at the term of endearment he hadn’t heard in so long, “Afraid that you’d reject me, that I’d be alone. I tried to fill that void with other friends. Hell, I joined this team just to try to put the past behind me. But I couldn’t. I’d still see you every day and…and I’d wonder what could have been, how things would have been different.”

“Me too,” he confessed and you realized that your hand was still gripped tightly in yours. “I miss you,” he admitted and you could feel your entire being crumble. They may as well bury you here under the worn wooden floor.

“I miss you too.” You leaned your head forward against his, a risky move and you were filled with dejected regret as he let go of your hand, sure that he was going to turn away and leave you standing there; that all of your worst fears would be instantly realized. But instead he threw his arms around your middle and gave you a long-overdue hug. You placed your arms around his shoulders in kind and let the embrace consume you.

#fred benson x reader #fred benson x male!reader #fred benson #fred benson stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things #80s #fanfic

[r-is-typing]

my brave boy | e.m

summary: in which it was finally eddie’s year

requested?: yes! requested by anon! 

request: feeling kinda saucy rn so angst 28 with eddie <3

pairing: eddie munson x reader 

category: angst

content warnings: S4 SPOILERS, do not read if you have not seen season 4 and do not want spoilers, major character death, grab tissues..

How she was convinced to go into some alternate dimension called ‘The Upside Down’ with Eddie, Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Dustin, she will never know. But, once Dustin, with the help of Nancy making it way more simplified, explained it, Y/N knew she had to help in any shape or form she could. She knew the deaths of Chrissy and Fred shook Hawkins to its core, so whatever she could do to help stop this monster from killing anyone else, she would. 

“Okay, Eddie, Dustin, you two stay together, distract the bats, and the four of us will go into the house and go straight for Vecna.” 

Y/N looked at Nancy, her hands on her hips. “No way in hell am I splitting from Eddie, Wheeler. Not happening.” Nancy looked between them all before landing her eyes on Y/N. Eddie grabbed her hand, tangling their fingers together. “Baby, it’ll all be okay, yeah? You go with them, so I know you’re safe, and I’ll go with Henderson, and we’ll all be safe.” Eddie kissed the crown of her head.

“Fine, but I’m not happy about this.”

Nancy began explaining the plan. From the original Hawkins, Max, Lucas, and Erica would distract Vecna, Eddie and Dustin would lure the bats away and when Vecna almost catches Max, the other four go in for the kill, or as Robin liked to constantly say ‘flambe’. Everyone grabbed their necessary tools, going to locate the gate. 

“Here, now, let’s go.”

One by one, they flipped through to the Upside Down, landing on the mattress in Eddie’s trailer. “I would’ve preferred you on it undressed, but I guess this will do, pretty girl.” Eddie teased, making Y/N break out into a smile. “Keep it in your pants, Munson.” Steve looked at him pointedly. 

“Alright, let’s go. Eddie, Dustin, good luck.” 

Y/N turned towards Eddie, her eyes softening as he looked at her. “Shh, baby, it’s gonna be alright, I promise, yeah?” Y/N nods. Eddie looks down, lifting his guitar pick necklace over his head and placing it around Y/N’s neck, also taking one of his rings and placing it on her finger. “Keep this safe for me, yeah? I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.” 

Y/N quickly kissed him, savoring the feeling of his lips on hers. “I love you.” She mumbled.

“I love you more, sweetheart. Now, go kick some ass, yeah?” 

Y/N smiled, joining the other three as they ventured toward the house. Once they got inside, she looked around in wonder, her eyes catching on the vines covering the floor and the walls. “Whoa.” She mumbled. After a few minutes, one by one, the group got tangled in the vines, being trapped and choked against the wall. 

“Agh!” 

They finally were released, booking it up the stairs, seeing that Vecna had become distracted. One by one, they began to attack. Nancy fires bullets after Robin, Steve and Y/N threw bottles at him, lighting the monster on fire. 

“Go, go, go!”

The four ran down the stairs and out of the house. “Come on!” Y/N shouted as she took the lead, running faster than she thinks she ever had before. She only had one goal. Get to Eddie. Keep Eddie safe. 

As they got closer to the trailer park, the screams of Dustin Henderson made the girl sick to her stomach. The wails of ‘Eddie!’ coming out of his mouth made her sprint faster. “Dustin! Eddie!” She could see them from here, Eddie lying on the floor as Dustin kneeled next to him.

“Y/N, hurry!”

Dustin’s cry called to her as she quickly approached. Once she got close enough to see the damage, sobs broke out of her lungs. “No, no! Eddie!” Y/N got down on her knees next to him. “Hi, baby.” He mumbled, looking up at her, blood covering the left side of his face. “Eddie, hey, shh, you’re gonna be alright. We’re gonna get you to a hospital, okay?” Y/N looked to Dustin who nodded.

“Gimme a second, okay?” 

Y/N nodded, laying him back down. “Okay, my love, okay. Shh.. Just, whatever you do, don’t let go.” Eddie smiled up at the two who sat on each side of him, his head laying over Dustin’s knee. ”I didn’t run away this time, right?” Y/N sobbed, wiping her eyes.

“No, baby, no you didn’t. You did so well, love. My brave boy.”

She smiled down at him, cupping his cheek. “My brave, brave boy.” Eddie looked at Dustin. “You’re gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, alright?” Dustin shook his head, clearly not wanting to hear Eddie’s suggestion. Eddie looked back to Y/N, his hand gripping the one of hers that wasn’t cupping his face.

“I think I’m actually going to graduate, baby.” He looked back at Dustin. “I think it’s my year, Henderson.” Y/N cried more, her sobs echoing around them. “I love you, m-man.” Dustin hits his fist lightly on Eddie’s chest. “I-I love you too.”

Eddie’s eyes found Y/N’s and he smiled. “My gorgeous, gorgeous girl.” Y/N choked out a sob, leaning against the hand that was cupping her cheek. “I love you so much, you know that?” Y/N nods, kissing his forehead. “I love you so much more, my brave boy. You did so well.” She mumbled, laying her head in the crook of his neck, not batting an eye to the blood covering him. “‘m so proud of you, Eds. You did so well.” Eddie’s hand moved to the back of her head, bringing her down towards him with the last bit of strength he could muster, and kissed her softly. Y/N kissed back, her salty tears mixing in with her lip gloss and the taste of cigarettes. 

A sob ripped its way through her throat as she felt his lips grow cold against her own, feeling his hand slide down her face, but still staying up to hold her face in the palm of his hand. 

The four sat there for a while, Nancy consoling Dustin while Steve held Y/N against his chest, Robin rubbing her back. Y/N’s hand holding onto the guitar pick that lay on her neck, the coolness of his ring on her finger tingling her lips. She muttered to herself, staring at his lifeless body as she cried.

“I love you, Eddie. My brave boy.”

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#eddie munson fics #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #requests open #reqs open #stranger things #request #rhyanwritesstuff

[yenvengerberg]

I have a question and was wondering if you would be kind enough to spare some time. How do you isolate the skin colors in your gifs? The edges are so crisp and clean it’s amazing!! I keep coming across your gifs on the recommended page (for various fandoms) and each one looks so stunning

hi anon, thank you so much! i have a colouring tutorial which is the best guide i can provide for what i do! selective colours can go a long way in helping preserve crisp and clean edges and i'd recommend relying on this wherever possible, but this doesn't always work depending on the scenes you are working with. otherwise, i rely on a lot of frame by frame colouring which is certainly not the easiest and takes a lot of time to perfect, but is possible with time and effort. i feel like i'm just rambling now so hope that tutorial can help you out, good luck on your giffing ventures!

#Anonymous

[sithisreadingcorner]

July Tarot Readings! ☀️🌊🏝️

Happy summer, everyone! Who is ready for a monthly tarot reading? You are in the perfect place! 💜

Send me an ask. You don't HAVE to ask a question, but you can.

You will receive a really attentive, thoughtful and personalized reading using about 3-5 items (may it be cards or otherwise).

There is one caveat: your ask HAS to comply with ALL of the house rules, which can be found here (desktop/mobile). This is mandatory to read because I need you to know this to be able to provide you the best reading I can.

You will have to read the whole page (not just the upper half) and prove it to me that you did the way that I ask on the rules page.

(To ease it on the eyes and minds, I highlighted every important part so that you can skim it all quickly and have every requirement anyway. Please do that at least)

You would think that's easy enough, but experience proves that you are venturing where on average, one out of four journeyers who try to reach out to me have failed. So are you up for the challenge?! 👁️‍🗨️

The readings are always free but if you feel like they resonated, I welcome pay-what-you-want donations through my ko-fi. Donators are thanked with additional, extended (and extremely detailed) readings that are independent of the monthly slots and can be exchanged at any time. You can use this to expand on your current question, or ask something else at a later date.

If your birthday is this month, and you send me an ask off-anon that complies with everything else, you'll get a FREE EXTENDED reading as a birthday gift from me.

There are 5 slots this month! Good luck!

Fare well, and be TRICKY ✨🤞🌊🍹👁️‍🗨️

#tarot #oracle #runes #witch #pagan #psychic readings #tarot reading #free tarot #daily tarot #divination

[torra-and-the-toons]

Hey! The anon EddEddy fic request from previous! Thank you so much for the short fic!! You indeed interpreted it correctly. My phone must have auto-corrected and I hadn't noticed lol.

It was so sweet. You need to give yourself more credit on writing fluff like that. I think you did a great job. It was adorable! :D Hope all goes well with your visiting family!

Omg thank you!! 🥰😭That means so much to me, you don't even know. In both writing and drawing, I've taught myself how to do them, but at least in drawing I've had YEARS to practice. Writing is kind of a new venture for me, at least writing in seriousness, so my confidence is basically nonexistent. To hear this was a huge boost lol, so thank you, anon!! 🥰

And ty for the well wishes with my family too. It'll be a good visit, I hope, despite the circumstance I'll get to see my sister under. With some luck, maybe she'll fall in love with my area and end up moving closer. At any rate, it'll be good to have our whole family together again.

#torra rambles

[salesman1997realnotfake]

hi its me again.

sorry i am impatient and strange

Anyway, hi Spamton!! In case it wasn't clear who "Weirdo Anon" was earlier, it was the guy who said they loved you :3

May I buy something? Literally anything. As long as it's from you. And maybe if it has your face on it. Good luck in your ventures!

Love, Weirdo Anon

…YOU CAN [Purchasing] A [Product]!!

IT’S [Buy One] GET [No] FREE!!!!!!

#spamton