#somewhere during the year - i think because of some people but also my 'i'm slowly becoming less and less interested in spock' mindset

[lenievi]

I’m rereading my thoughts as I wrote them when I was watching SNW when it aired and this part at the beginning is so important and I sometimes I still need the reminder lol

I consider SNW to not be related to TOS. It’s based on it, but clearly the story will go different directions, therefore there’s no reason to try and make a sense of it (but I also like to reinterpret some stuff for my own enjoyment and fics - but it has no place in discussing TOS like TOS should not really be considered too much when discussing SNW - I still think there should be some things that shouldn’t be broken, but… I think it’s too late for that, so I’ll just have to accept it as “it’s happening. fine” - at least that’s my stance on it.

#reading my thoughts is interesting. #somewhere during the year - i think because of some people but also my 'i'm slowly becoming less and less interested in spock' mindset #i convinced myself that i did not like spock/chapel but all of my reactions are VERY positive and i enjoyed every little bit between them #so hopefully that will continue #since my emotional connection to spock is even lesser than it was last year #my reaction to the finale is still such a terrible overreaction LMAO #but some points are valid and i wonder when i rewatch the episode if i will once again feel a bit meh about kirk despite being very !!! kirk #atm :D #can't believe i'm still so emotionally invested in kirk #i hope s2 will treat una better though #the problem though is that if i start rewatching snw now i will probably never write anything for sp0nes day.... #fyi having low emotional connection is actually a better thing - for me - because it allows me to enjoy the show without wanting certain #things to happen. #my goal was to distance myself from tos before s1 - or rather spock - and for some reason i just got into kirk................ #and then the finale caught me off guard lol

[steddieasitgoes]

Pulling triple duty with this one.

Written for @steddiemas Day 29: Holiday Parties and @thefreakandthehair Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge. It's also a holiday sequel to my big bang fic Signed, Sealed Delivered, I'm Yours

My prompt for the Winter Fanworks Challenge was: “If I wear that sweater to work, my boss will kill me."

Tags: Established relationships, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Mailman Steve, Platonic Soulmate Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Slice of Life

wc: 4003 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

The Brookbridge Post Office holiday party is a tradition that dates back long before Steve joined the ranks. Every year Warren splurges on renting out a private room at a restaurant or banquet hall before passing all the planning off to his assistant of the month. The only rule, as far as Steve’s aware, is that it has to be tied to some charity organization so that he can write the whole thing off later.

This year is no different as the invitation he finds shoved into his work locker has the Toys for Tots logo front and center. What is different is the attire section that requests all guests break out their best holiday sweaters for the occasion.

Steve’s not sure what constitutes a holiday sweater, but he has a closet full of knit red and green ones that’ll surely work. No sweat off his back. Especially since he’s also done with the toy shopping.

The holiday party isn’t Steve’s favorite way to spend a random Saturday in December, but he always sucks it up and goes. Usually drags Robin along with him so they can stand in the corner getting drunk off free drinks while making fun of Tommy and his gang of mini-me’s as they try to hit on everyone’s plus ones.

It’s not the highlight of their holiday season by any means, but it's a tradition they’ve had going for years now. One he’s not sure he wants to break this year even though he could take Eddie as his romantic plus one. Which is exactly what he tells Robin during their Saturday movie marathon.

They’re sprawled out on the couch, Dumpster between them, with Christmas Vacation playing in the background. They’ve seen it enough times to quote the entire thing from memory so neither minds the interruption. It’s not like they ever actually watch movies on their Saturday movie afternoons anyway.

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Robin snorts, lobbing a pillow at his head. “Of course, you’re taking Eddie!”

“But we always go together.”

“Only because you never have a date!”

“So, what? You’ve been going all these years as my pity plus one?” Steve asks, nudging her with his knee.

“I’m sorry, did you think I liked hanging out in some stuffy banquet hall listening to Hagan and his little groupies try to hit on me?”

“Don’t forget the year Warren hit on you.” Robin retches, startling Dumpster from her slumber. The cat yawns before slowly climbing off the couch and down the hallway in search of somewhere quieter to sleep.

“Take Eddie. It’ll be fun!”

“Don’t you think two months of dating is too soon to be taking him to work events?”

This time it’s Robin’s bony knee that jabs into the meaty flesh of his thigh.“Jesus, Robs,” he hisses, pulling the hem of his shorts up to check for instant bruising.

“You’re dumber than I thought if you really think you and Eddie have only been dating for two months. What about all those months before, huh?” Steve doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes in silent protest. She’s not wrong, but she’s not right either. “Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t already met some of the people from work when he goes to the post office.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess you’re right,” Steve sighs. Still, there’s something lingering in the pit of his stomach. A gnawing, unpleasant weight that he can’t shake. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Tommy’s going to be there, though.”

The same Tommy who has been a Grade-A douchebag since getting removed from Steve’s route and put back on sorter/greeter duty. Steve’s not sure why he doesn’t just quit if he’s so miserable but every day he finds himself on the receiving end of a lackluster death glare.

Also, the same Tommy who gave Eddie the nickname “Mr. Dreamy.” The same Tommy who relentlessly hit on Eddie until he finally got thrown out of his house once and for all.

The same Tommy who has no idea that the guy Steve is seeing, because yes, Tommy knows Steve is seeing someone and teases him about it daily, is said, Mr. Dreamy.

Bringing Eddie into that is a recipe for disaster. One Steve’s not sure he even wants to subject himself to, let alone Eddie.

“On second thought,” Robin says, scrambling to sit up. “Can you take two guests? I will suffer the gross gazes and bad pick-up lines of your male coworkers just so I can see Hagan’s face fall when he realizes you’re dating the guy he was after.”

Steve laughs despite himself, shaking his head. If there’s one thing Robin loves, it’s being a fly on the wall for some good, old-fashioned drama.

📬 🎄 📬

With Robin officially denying his plus-one invitation, Steve sets out to ask Eddie.

It’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, he knows this, but something about it also feels like a Big Deal — with a capital B and D. Sure, they’ve branched out from their routine lunch dates — they have a standing Sunday brunch double date with the girls and make a point to go out at least once during the week, plus Steve regularly stops by the shop now, but it's different inviting Eddie to go to a work event with him.

It’s another step in their relationship.

One toward a more permanent future and Steve doesn’t want to fuck it up by scaring Eddie away.

So he spends a week testing the waters. Asks Eddie about his holiday plans over Toasty Treats’ legendary holiday turkey sandwich on Tuesday. Brings up Tommy’s latest fuck up over chili leftovers on Thursday to gage Eddie’s feelings about him (“Jesus H. Christ he really is an idiot,” he laughs, clearly poking fun, but not in the teasing way he does with Steve that always makes his cheeks heat up). During brunch on Sunday, he goads Robin into sharing a fun anecdote from last year's party where one too many cocktails had her and Steve taking over the karaoke machine serenading guests all night with off-key renditions of Christmas carols.

When Steve steals a glance at Eddie he finds him smiling and laughing along with the story.

And just like that the seed is planted.

Steve finally gets the courage to ask the question he’s been dancing around for a week on Tuesday over leftover Chinese takeout.

“Course I’ll be your plus-one, Stevie,” Eddie answers mouthful of Chow-Mien. “I’ll be your plus-one anytime, anywhere, any—”

“Alright, you sap,” Steve laughs, leaning over the table to steal a kiss.

“Does this mean I’m finally going to see the back room where the mail sorter fairies work?”

“Unfortunately not. The party’s at the banquet hall in town.”

“Dammit,” Eddie sighs.

“Oh, and you have to wear a Christmas sweater.”

“Love me a good theme!”

📬 🎄 📬

Turns out, what Steve considers a Christmas sweater is very different from what Eddie considers a Christmas sweater. A fact he’s currently in the midst of learning as he glances around Eddie’s bedroom.

“Stevie, sweetheart, love of my life,” Eddie says, clasping his hands in front of him as he rocks on the balls of his feet. “That is not a Christmas sweater.”

Steve glances down at the knit sweater he’s wearing before fisting the hem and pulling it away from his chest to get a better look. He’s not sure what Eddie’s talking about. It’s totally a Christmas sweater!

“Yeah it is, Eds,” he defends. “It has a reindeer and a tree on it. That’s pretty Christmas.”

Eddie gawks for a moment before scrubbing a hand down his face. Steve knows he only does that when he’s frustrated so he braces for whatever he’s going to say.

“Objectively speaking, yes, it is a Christmas sweater. But it’s also not a Christmas sweater.”

This time it’s Steve who gawks at Eddie. He’s used to Eddie getting worked up over random things, but this is a new one. “Okay Christmas Sweater expert, what is an appropriate Christmas sweater then.”

“I’m glad you asked,” Eddie grins before stalking over to the pile of clothes on his bed. He shuffles through the clothes for a moment, tossing a few shirts to the wayside before he shouts victoriously and turns around clutching a red sweater in his hands. “Now this is a Christmas sweater.”

Steve can’t help the cackle that escapes him the minute his eyes land on the sweater. It’s a red monstrosity with an upside-down snowman sprawled out over the entire thing. A plastic carrot of some sort protrudes off and hanhs low, blending with the tinsel on the hat and two blue ornament balls that also dangle low

“If I wear that sweater to work, my boss will kill me,” Steve says through laughter.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad!”

“Eddie!” Steve squawks, brows knitted together. “It’s literally a dick and balls!”

“Warren is a buzz kill,” Eddie sighs, tossing the sweater aside. Without another word, he reaches for another sweater from the mess on his bed and turns around. “What about this one?”

This one is green with a gingerbread man smiling in the middle. It looks innocent enough except for the fact that the gingerbread has bloodshot eyes and the words “let’s get baked” are stitched in big white letters followed by a marijuana leaf.

“Are you trying to get me fired? Again!”

“Hey,” Eddie scolds playfully. “I didn’t get you fired, I got you demoted. And we agreed it was both our fault. Don’t be putting the blame on me! Besides I’m just sticking with the theme.”

“Baby, the theme is Christmas sweaters not whatever this is,” Steve says waving his hands in the air.

“These are Christmas sweaters.”

“I mean, yeah, they’re technically Christmas sweaters but they’re not appropriate!” Steve laughs. “Where did you even find them?”

“Are you forgetting I work with artists all day? Me and the guys make them.”

“You made these?” Steve asks, snatching the sweater from his hands to get a better look.

Up close it's easier to tell that they’re homemade. The stitches are slightly askew, a missing thread or two here and there. Overall though they’re store-like quality. He didn’t even know Eddie could sew let alone sew an entire inappropriate Christmas sweater. If the tattooing thing doesn’t work out, maybe he and the Hellfire guys should start a clothing line.

“That’s pretty impressive actually.”

“So, does that mean you’ll wear one?”

“To my work party? Absolutely not,” Steve laughs.

“Come on,” Eddie whines. “Nowhere on that invite does it say it has to be appropriate!”

“I’m pretty sure it’s implied! Maybe you can get away with that at the shop's holiday parties, but Brookbridge is full of stuck-up employees. Warren might be sleeping with his assistant but I don’t think he’ll appreciate this,” Steve says, lifting the gingerbread sweater.

“I guess that means I should change then.”

“Wait, you’re wearing one of these right now?” Eddie nods, coaxing another chuckle from Steve. “What does yours look like?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

With eyes shining with mirth and that crooked smile, Steve loves so much, Eddie slowly peels off his leather jacket revealing the Christmas sweater he’s been wearing. It’s hunter-green and looks incredibly soft to the touch. Unfortunately, the words “Well Hung” are stitched in a bright green across the chest. Four baubles are stitched on underneath in various sizes trying their best to make the phrase Christmas-appropriate instead of the innuendo it is.

“Oh my god,” Steve wheezes, doubling over in laughter. It takes him a minute to compose himself and when he does Eddie is standing there beaming with pride. “S’clever and definitely true.” Eddie’s smile grows even wider at that. “But yeah, I think you should change, baby.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Eddie groans.

“Hey, I’m plenty fun,” he says, quickly closing the distance between them. Steve gets his hands on Eddie, wrapping them around his middle and pulling him flush with his chest before searing a kiss to his lips. “But I don’t want to give Tommy any ideas. Don’t think he’d back off if he saw you advertising yourself like this.”

Eddie hums in consideration before reluctantly agreeing. Wiggling out of Steve’s grasp, he yanks the sweater off and tosses it onto the bed with the other rejected sweaters. Then, he sulks over to his closet to search for another sweater. A few minutes pass, nothing but the sounds of plastic hangers clanging against the metal rod filling the room before Eddie turns around with a huff.

“So, turns out I don’t have any appropriate Christmas sweaters.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I have a spare lying around. We’ll just stop by my place before heading over.”

📬 🎄 📬

They get intercepted by Debbie as they’re trying to leave, costing them an extra ten minutes they don’t have to spare. That added with the detour to Steve’s place and the inevitable quickie that follows when they realize Robin isn’t home makes them an hour late to the party.

But it’s not a big deal. Hardly anyone but Betty even realizes they’re late. And the only reason she notices is because she’s smoking outside the door when they get there.

“You clean up nice,” she says like she does every holiday party. Tossing the cigarette to the floor, she snubs it out with the toe of her boots before slowly dragging her eyes up Eddie. “You do too, Eddie, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m Eddie. And thank you, ma’am.”

Betty tsks, waving her hand in the air. “None of this ma’am crap. Just Betty is fine. Steve’s told me lots about you. Have you made a decision on that P.O. Box yet?”

Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snorting. That day doesn’t leave the best taste in his mouth considering how it ended, but it did start out with a lot of promise.

“Oh, uh, I don’t think it’s for me. S’much easier to have my mail delivered to me. Especially when he’s doing it.”

Betty glances at Steve and gives him another slow once over before winking at the both of them. “M’sure it is,” she laughs. “You boys better get in there. Don’t want to miss the fun.”

📬 🎄 📬

The banquet hall is decorated just as it always is. A giant Christmas tree sits in the middle. A handful of tables surround a small dance floor. There’s a buffet of food on one end, the donation table on the other. A small band is set up on stage, serenading the crowd with a mix of Top 40s and holiday hits. No karaoke machine this year much to Eddie’s chagrin.

After a round of drinks, Steve gets to mingling, introducing Eddie to the handful of coworkers he actually likes. The introductions are brief and his co-workers are quick to share embarrassing stories about Steve’s early days on the job with Eddie who listens and laughs along.

Eventually, Warren finds them, his wife draped lovingly on his arm while his assistant throws daggers his way from the bar. Steve puts on his best smile and expertly navigates the small talk, making a point to compliment Warren’s wife and joke about her being out of his league. Warren’s quick to excuse the both of them after that.

“He gives me the creeps,” Eddie shivers, watching as he guides his wife through the sea of people with a hand on the small of her back all the while making eyes with his assistant across the room.

“He’s definitely a douchebag,” Steve agrees.

He takes a sip of his drink as he scans the room. They’ve been here for almost two hours now and he hasn’t spotted Tommy once. Usually, he’s the center of attention at these things. Dancing up a storm and making it a point to flirt with everyone’s plus ones. Maybe he’s already staked his claim on someone and is getting lucky in the bathroom, Steve thinks before shaking the thought from his head. Who is he kidding, Tommy doesn’t have that kind of luck.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s sort of bummed that Tommy hasn’t made his presence known to him yet. Not because he wants to see him, he’d be happy going the rest of his life without having to share the same room with the guy, but because he wants to show Eddie off. And, okay, maybe he also wants to see Tommy’s face fall like Robin wanted to.

📬 🎄 📬

Steve is swaying with Eddie on the dance floor when the devil that is Tommy shithead Hagan finally materializes. He’s beyond tipsy, uneven on his feet, and freckled face flushed redder than Steve’s ever seen it. His eyes are glossy and his lips are curled in a way that sends alarm bells blaring in Steve’s head.

Trouble is afoot.

Afoot? Christ he’s spending too much time with Eddie.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Harrington.” He practically spits before whipping his head to stare at Eddie. “And oh, look what the postman dragged in. Yesterday’s mail!”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, taking a step toward Tommy. He gives Steve a mischievous look before cocking his head to the side as he gives Tommy his full attention. “Do I know you?”

“Oh don’t play coy in front of your little boy toy, darling,” Tommy slurs, reaching out to rest a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

It takes all the strength in Steve’s body not to reach out and yank his arm away. Thankfully, Eddie does it for him, shrugging the offending hand off with more force than necessary.

“Oh come on,” Tommy scoffs, more of a whine than anything else. “Don’t pretend like we didn’t have the best times when Harrington got himself demoted. What’s it like getting my sloppy seconds, Harrington?”

“Watch it, Tommy,” Steve scolds, taking a step closer to Hagan. He’s not going to make a scene, he’s not. But he’s also not going to stand here and let him talk about Eddie like that.

Eddie scoffs, shaking his head. “If I’m anyone’s sloppy seconds I’m Steve’s. And they are very sloppy if you catch my drift.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He knows he shouldn’t encourage this, but it's hard to be the bigger person when Tommy is standing right there purposely antagonizing him for his own gain. Sue him for wanting to play the game just a little.

“Sorry, Tommy, but Eds here is right,” Steve says, placing a delicate hand on Eddie’s shoulder before squeezing it. “Don’t you remember, I got demoted for hooking up with a “bombshell” in the van? Well, guess what, you’re looking at him.”

“That— that’s not what happened,” Tommy says, directing his words at Steve, not Eddie. “You weren’t with him! Aaron said you were with…”

Steve watches the metaphorical gears turning in Tommy’s head as he trails off. Can tell the moment things start clicking. He really had no clue that the guy Steve had been seeing was Eddie. Steve watches the stunned look spread across his face the same way it spread across his all those months ago when he caught Tommy leaving Eddie’s place. The gross realization that they actually do have the same type after all.

“Why don’t you keep moving Hagan,” Steve says, nodding his head in the opposite direction.

“Nah, I think I’m good right here, actually,” he says, confidence returning.

This guy just doesn’t know when to quit.

“Tommy seriously,” Steve tries again. “Go bother someone else. We’re not interested.”

“Oh, so you’re speaking for him now too?”

“Please,” Eddie scoffs. “You know I’m not interested in you. Never have been and never will be.”

That does it.

Steve sees the moment Tommy’s confident facade breaks. The rosiness of his cheeks grows into an angry red, flooding his body. His eyes, once glossy, are now laser-sharp and squinted. His fingers curl into fists at his side as he readies himself.

Steve’s faster though, stepping in front of Eddie at the same moment Tommy lunges. It would be easy to put an end to this once and for all. Give Tommy the gift of a black eye or bruised rib with one skilled punch that Steve would love to throw. But Tommy shithead Hagan isn’t worth losing his job for, so he reigns in his own anger and instead gets his palms on Tommy’s chest to hold him back.

“Don’t be stupid, Hagan,” Steve says. “Warren’s watching. Do you really want to lose your job for good this time?”

The words are supposed to knock some sense into the guy, calm him down. But it does the opposite, riling him up even more until Steve can practically feel his skin vibrating under his hands. Thankfully, Aaron and the rest of his minions are there in an instant, pulling him away and holding him back.

They try their best to calm him down but Steve can see Tommy’s anger growing by the second. He’s only seen him this angry once before — two months ago when Warren removed him from the route. He doesn’t need to see an encore performance so instead he reaches for Eddie’s hand and drags them away from the impending doom.

📬 🎄 📬

“Part of me still thinks you should have let him have it,” Eddie laughs, shoveling a mouthful of chocolate chip pancakes into his mouth.

“Tommy’s not worth it.”

“I would have been so pissed if I missed you deck him,” Robin says, working her way through her own mountain of pancakes.

“That’s the real reason you didn’t punch him, isn’t it?” Eddie teases.

“Oh yeah,” Steve deadpans, rolling his eyes. “Promised Robin I wouldn’t punch anyone unless she was there to witness it.”

“Does she also have to refrain from punching people,” Chrissy asks.

Robin shakes her head. “Why? Is there someone I need to punch in your honor?”

“Not yet,” Chrissy says, nuzzling into her side. “But if Eddie makes us go to the Birchwood Holiday party in these tonight, you might need to. Debbie’s nephew is in town and he keeps staring at me from the window.”

“Again with the sweaters,” Eddie huffs, letting his fork clatter to the table. “They’re cozy and hilarious. You guys are just boring! Besides, people are going to love my sweater. You’ll see. They’re going to be all the rage one day.”

“Debbie already thinks they are,” Chrissy giggles. “I saw her wearing the one that says “I’m So Good Santa Came Twice” the other day while she was taking out the trash.”

“You gave Debbie one?” Steve shouts, nearly spitting out his orange juice in the process. Robin does spit out her drink, through her nose as usual as she chokes on her own laughter.

“She cornered me and I panicked! I didn’t think she’d wear it!”

“Look on the bright side, Eddie,” Robin says between shrieks of laughter. “With Debbie’s help, every suburban mom in Brookbridge will be walking around in one by next Christmas.”

“It’s a good thing you know a great delivery man,” Steve teases. “Because they’re going to be flying off the shelves.”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he groans.

As the table erupts into another fit of laughter, Steve can’t help but tug Eddie towards him before giving him a soft, syrup-infused kiss. And if he whispers something about feeling inspired by the inappropriate sweater Eddie’s picked out for him to wear later, well, that’s between him and Eddie and whoever’s bedroom they end up in when they leave Murray’s.

Besides, he still owes him for not punching Tommy himself at that holiday party.

And Steve always delivers.

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #SpicySixWinterFanworksChallenge #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson fan fic #eddie fic #steve fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

[phantomrose96]

I love space and how extreme and fucked up it always in when viewed by the human level, and I thought many times about making a story like 938 Seconds Per Second, but I would always stop myself finding holes like "would the transported items even be valuable after so many years?" or "wouldn't the technology become obsolete at the exact moment it worked and years passed?" or "what about the ways language would have changed?" and you didn't allow details such as these to stop you. You didn't even gave them a spot in the story because it thematically ruins it, and now I am thinking "why am I not allowing myself to indulge the whole point of fiction?" and I feel something slowly unloxking within me. Also as a fan of fucked up physics and morals in sci-fi, loved the work!!!!

(938 Seconds Per Second)

See, here's the thing for me! Questions like that DO occur to me. It's part of thinking through the world-building. But for questions like that, unless they have a spot in the story it's MORE important, in my opinion, to instead answer: Does it detract from the story at all if I simply don't explore those? Is there anything about those questions that fundamentally breaks the story? Is it actually impossible for those to have answers?

"Would the items still be valuable?" If you mean in terms of the money amount that trades hands, I figure Entente money is pinned to an inflation-free peg. It can trade into local currency when it exchanges hands, but the Entente value is specifically inflation free, and specifically for workers dealing in time dilation. If you mean will the buyer still WANT the items after being shipped for so many years, sure there's speculation buying something you won't get for 100+ years. But I figure for intergalactic trade that spans light years, all their trade exists on these massive timescales. To have created this trade culture means there are cultures willing to wait out the time. The very foundation of their trade expects this exact thing.

"Wouldn't the technology become obsolete?" Keeping in mind the speed of light is still the fastest anything can move, you would NEED something like the ship to even get technology across the universe. So even if advancement is fast somewhere, spread is slow. These ships are probably couriers OF technology spread. And sure, probably a bunch of independent places independently advance their own technology, but the ship still docks down with some frequency between missions. Maintenance and upgrades can be done during any of those dock-down periods.

"Changing language?" Sure I bet language changes all the time. But for an intergalactic trade relation culture which has built itself upon immense time-gaps, they could easily have standardized to a specific, and non-changing, language standard. All legal documents are written in the common language, and as new items and concepts come into being they're given standard names. And then among regular people--translator masks. I gave the doctor one. The technology for that practically exists already today with google translate and text to speech, so it's very believable technology.

OKAY SO, ...were any of those answers actually super important to 938sps? Was 938sps harmed by not digging in to those...? I don't think so. Because none of this actually mattered to the core of the 938sps story. As long as none of these things presented glaring, unfixable plot-holes to the story, then I'm good. My answers to these questions might still be full of holes and what-ifs. Hell I probably could have answered any of these with "eh I dunno" and that still doesn't impact 938sps.

I think all of that leaves just a lot of runway and play-space to expand on the world presented in 938sps. But having any of those stop me from even putting down the first word? No, they don't matter.

#938sps

[pastafossa]

how long did it take for your fanfiction to start getting some recognition? did you "advertise" it or "promote" it in any way?

i know that people say this doesn't matter, but i feel like even if you love writing the feeling that you're just talking to yourself gets pretty exhausting at some point. so i'm not talking about having thousands of readers but rather like. what's your advice to have readers at least?

- someone who hasn't even started writing their ideas yet...

LONG POST INCOMING.

First I want you (and everyone else reading who may be struggling with this) to know I'm absolutely with you and generally think 'it doesn't matter' is a horseshit answer. It's this weird thing we do in fanfic that we generally don't apply to other artforms that I've seen. If you're a painter, a playwriter, a novel writer, and you say, 'I want at least a few people to love my paintings, I want some people to come see my play, I want my novel to be published and do at least ok' we all support them, we nod, we agree, we talk about how they can do that successfully. It's considered normal to want some amount of success. But hold up fanfic instead and it becomes, 'how dare you want that praise, you're being egotistical, you should be writing only for yourself'. I'm not saying you can't do that - there are some who do - but it's definitely this bizarre switchup to say there's this single artform in which we can't want attention on our work and that there's something wrong with us if we do. That can be an absolute creativity killer depending on what kind of writer you are (hi, extrovert writer here who only gets writy writy juice from social interaction - aka comments and discussion. So I totally get it being exhausting just doing this on your own).

So let me say this categorically: you're allowed to want things. You're allowed to want kudos, comments, and hits. You're allowed to want messages and asks. You're allowed to want some readers you can talk with about your story.

You. Are. Allowed.

Ok, now that that's out of the way.

Edit: more below the cut cause I didn't realize the length of this on mobile

TRT definitely didn't get popular overnight. The first four chapters were sporadic, and then I took a hiatus due to life things for a couple years. During that time, it kept slowly ticking up bit by bit on AO3, with occasional comments. Iirc it was hovering somewhere around 700 kudos by the time I came back in Jan 2021 - and that's a awesome! It's big! But it's also a number that was gained over a few years, to put it in perspective. It absolutely took off after I came back though, and over the past 2 years both TRT's popularity and the stats of my one-shots in the fandom have grown. Part of that's just the time frame (TRT's been up about 6 years), but it's also due to a couple things that I think built up TRT's popularity.

Building a tumblr presence was huge. Ironically I didn't really intend to do it for advertising; I just wanted a place readers could ask questions or we could all freak out about Matt or I could post some drabbles or updates on the fic. But considering the fact that AO3 and tumblr are the top fic sites online, I wound up promoting my fics unintentionally just by being a friendly, happy tumblr user and fandom goer. All I did was follow the courtesy rules I knew - post stuff regularly, reblog, comment, make friends with other writers, just be friendly in your neighborhood because you love the lady with the gif flower shop on the corner or the wise old pizza maker who serves hot fandom takes all day long. I built familiarity with my writing and name by posting short fics, and by taking part in challenges and prompt lists and short requests for drabbles if I saw them, though that's something that's hard to do if you don't have time (I've got less time now, but I started this blog in the early pandemic so I had aaaaall the time in the world to write and was using it to stay sane). I tagged religiously because I LOVE tags, but that helped, too. Tumblr's search system is half broken but the half that works means people CAN find your writing even if they aren't following. Doing all this over here got me a huge boost over on AO3.

I will say that if you can have a fandom tiktok presence, there's a lot of fic reviewers, edits, and good stuff that can get your fic some readers (I've had some people do this on tiktok for TRT and it sent a surge over). I personally haven't done anything there yet, in part because while I'm on tiktok I try to keep my actual, real person accounts separate from my fic/fandom accounts and i haven't bothered to make a second account solely dedicated to the Pasta name yet.

Longfics on AO3 have the advantage in fic stats in the sense that every time you add a chapter, it gets bumped to the top of the front page and you get seen again. Eventually a lot of people will click out of curiosity. They may not, however, give you a lot of user subs or add to your other fic stats at first, whereas if you do a bunch of oneshots you're more likely to get user subs but less hits on each fic. This is a decision you'll have to make, and I know folks in both camps who built their followings using different methods on each. Either way, it helps if you're posting regularly, either in a long fic or one-shots. I call this the Stephen King method, who said he just writes a ton and throws it all at the wall, and eventually you get enough good despite the bad that you start building a following.

Learn learn learn. This is standard fic advice I always give, but it's still relevant. I think one of the reasons imo TRT has done so well is that I've spent a lot of time over the years learning how to write and edit - I read a ton of books (sometimes just to figure out HOW good authors structure their stories), I took a lot of English classes, I've taken some creative writing courses in my spare time. That two year hiatus was heavily spent doing a lot of research and practice around an original novel I want published one day. And I used ALL of that in TRT, just to see what it was like to put it all together. Be hungry for knowledge, be hungry to learn. The more you learn, the better your fic will be, and the more people that will click.

That learning also includes a looooong string of fanfics that started at a very novice level (hello 12 year old me), to fics that were ok and did moderately well but weren't anything huge. Hell, I had a tumblr account for my previous fandoms before I wandered over to Pastafossa, and while those fics did decently, I never had the huge reaction I've gotten here. But I used each and every one of those fics to learn and grow and adapt. Treat your own fics the same way. If it doesn't get hits, try to learn from it before moving on to the next idea a little wiser and a slightly better writer than before. There will always be people who start to follow you along the way.

A small one, but important: I swear to god, do not shit-talk yourself. Not in the summary, not in the tags, not in the A/Ns. I'm not talking, 'this is my first fic!' That's fine. I mean trashing your own work. Shit like, 'ha ha this sucks, it's terrible but oh well' will absolutely lower your stats, because people will believe you and will ditch your fic. On top of that, it's just mean to yourself, and as I said above, you want to be a good person in the fandom neighborhood. That means not breaking the windows of your own house.

People generally think of summaries as a side note, but a shitty summary can absolutely tank your stats. Treat it like the rest of your fic - this is the trailer before the movie, and it's a huge element of what gets people interested in the first place.

Lastly, like I said at the top, the biggest factor is time. There are people who post one fic and explode in popularity, absolutely. But far, far more little followings are built on the bones of time, of abandoned fics, of muttering and highlighting phrases in books in the middle of the night, of trying and trying and trying until we have at last have a breakthrough and then drag that breakthrough forward with us to the next fic. TRT is absolutely one part lightning in a bottle - the biggest success I've ever had anywhere with my writing, a confluence of fandom factors and world events that gave people (and me!) time to write and read. But it's also standing on the back of whole lot of fics I wrote that look like everyone else's: ones with no comments, low interaction, insults; ones where I had precisely zero idea of what I was doing, but wanted to try anyway. And the way I got through that, as a writer who needs interaction in order to create, was by building friendships in fandom so that even when a fic didn't do all that well, I still had friends I could talk to about the characters, the world, the fandom itself. I asked friends to look them over and give advice. I had friends being my cheerleaders. And if you're an extrovert like me, or just a writer who needs that to create, then those connections are vital as you build up a following.

That's a lot of what I've done. I know there are other ways to build a following, but this is generally what I've done, what I've learned to do, and it seems to have worked. Just remember that there are no bad fics - just learning opportunities. Learn something, and that fic's a success, and work as hard as you can to make those fandom connections to carry you through the process.

I absolutely hope to see your work around one day, so that I can be on of those followers!

#writing advice #fic advice #fic tips #building a following #fanfic #fic #writing tips #tbh i was shocked and still kind of am by how popular trt's become #because i have had ZERO previous experiences in my fic writing time that aligned #BUT #there are absolutely things I did in hindsight I think that helped a ton #and all of the practice and writing fic including the ones with zero interaction helped #i learned how to be a good fandom goer even when i didn't write #because i genuinely loved my little neighborhoods #and i used a lot of that when i started writing again cause why wouldn't i??? #also avoid petty fandom drama you don't need to waste your energy on it #i WANT my blog to generally be a positive space cause i've got shit going on elsewhere and i don't need more #but that also means i think that people like wandering through cause they know there's a lot of happy things here #be the person in the neighborhood watering your daisies and putting out a rainbow pinwheel even when ted down the block #is feuding with susan up the block over the height of ted's fence

[vashtijoy]

ohhhhh would you mind sharing your akechi post-canon ideas and aus? 👀👀

Ahahaha oh god THANK YOU FOR ASKING

so with @nardaviel, I have this whole ... thing, where Akechi comes back from the third semester and finds himself alive, using the deleted kakekomidera scene, where the two people who remember him from childhood talk about him at the refuge. He heads back to Tokyo and turns himself in to get Ren out of detention, pretty much as on 12/24 though Ren doesn't know he's there, and then he spends a month in jail being interrogated and staring at the walls and quietly going mad.

At this point he gets swept up by Mitsuru, possibly through Sae (who knows about the shadow operatives), and offered a place with her. He takes great pleasure in telling her to shove it up her ass, and unfortunately at this point there's a whole "or we could ask Amamiya-kun" thing, and tl;dr a highly resentful Akechi ends up working for Mitsuru—probably in a very grey and joyless capacity for a while, because you'd have to be out of your mind to trust him with anything. The clip on 3/20 at the train station is him being transferred from police custody to, essentially, Mitsuru's custody. He's traded what was at least independence of a kind in prison for putting himself into the hands of another rich, powerful asshole who wants to use him, for the sake of the one person he cares about, and the irony alone is almost enough to make him throw himself in front of that train Ren's sitting in.

Meanwhile, Ren thinks Akechi is dead, and is having his whole thing, off in the ass end of nowhere by himself.... and two years pass, during which he returns to Tokyo to study. And that's when Ren Finds Akechi Again, in the street, and punches him in the face, because why the hell not. And then, after some fallout and Ren nearly getting arrested again, they slowly have a chance to find what they might have been.

It also includes Futaba having both of their phones bugged and intruding on every text conversation they ever have, Akechi having an ankle tag for years and some sophisticated electronic locks on his doors, some extremely nice grounds with flowering trees and streams and little bridges and shit, Haru somehow being the one to find Akechi first and keeping it to herself, the most nervous bookseller in Jimbocho, Ren taking over management of Leblanc, a ton of "I'm 20 and I've done everything I'll ever do", Prisoner Angst, I'm Not Dead Angst, Akechi's seething hatred of Mitsuru and his certainty that she is a Maruki-in-waiting or at least the centre of another grand conspiracy, a lot of takeout, some very well-compensated gate guards, and a stillborn plan for Ren and Goro to skip the country entirely and hide out in Argentina or somewhere.

And, here and there, on occasion, they get over themselves enough to make out.

Since you were kind enough to ask, here's a relevant fic snippet from my collection, below the cut.

. . .

The next Sunday, Akechi heads to Jimbocho, to go through the second-hand shops. It’s fine. Weird little antique shops selling fripperies from the 50s and 60s; curio shops full of absolutely tacky trash, one with its window displaying nothing but ceramic bears; and the bookshops, of course, the reason Akechi is really here. Though he toys with buying one of the ugly ceramic bears, just to smash it.

There’s also an otaku shop, full of tiny Western figures that you’re supposed to paint, the sort of thing Akechi thinks he’d be good at, if he gave a fuck. But he doesn’t go in; the shop is full of awkward-looking students his own age, stereotypical otakus. Even besides that, Akechi dislikes students; they remind him that he’s not in university himself. Like he’d expected to be. Or to live long enough.

So he gravitates back to the bookshops, leafing slowly through old texts with their subdued covers, or hardbacks with gilt; there are even some Meiji-era wasobon, in a glass cabinet, with their glued-paper spines and their titles on glued labels. He stares at those for quite a while, head tilted, wondering what they’d feel like in his hand. When he turns away, he feels much smaller, like when he was ten and he’d ride the bus here rather than go home.

It takes him quite a while to settle on only one purchase; he goes from shop to shop, keeping lists in his head, ticking off options here, discarding them there. He doesn’t realise he isn’t scowling, and he doesn’t think of it as a nice afternoon. But he also doesn’t think about the absolute fuckfest last week in Inaba, or how off-balance he’d felt when he stepped back into the cognitive world again for the first time, only to feel his ankle tag shift away along with the rest of his clothes.

If anything, he feels unsettled. Like nothing bad’s happening, and so that must be bad. He heads absently out of the last bookshop, with his lone purchase taped into a washi paper bag, thinking he’ll try one of the espresso shops that also litter the area, because coffee and books are so inescapably combined—

—when a hand like a steel claw closes on his wrist.

Akechi drops the book, spins all at once, still fast with a killer’s reflexes. He finds himself staring into a taut face, furious beneath its tangle of black hair, eyes sharp and accusing, crystals of black graphite shining in the sun. Amamiya Ren is staring at him, touching him, for fuck’s sake, and all at once Akechi feels like his guts have turned to leaking, toxic mercury.

“Akechi?” Ren is saying, in a barely-there voice.

“That’s my name,” Akechi says, considering the likelihood that he’ll have to break Ren’s arm to make him let go. “Let g—”

He doesn’t see Ren’s fist. It flies into his right cheek, totally untelegraphed, and he hits the street with a grunt. Fucking Joker, every time, ugh, he should have seen that—

“Ow,” he mutters. Passersby are clucking to each other, so disruptive of them; he hears worried footsteps at the door of the shop he just left. But mainly he hears Ren, bending over him to talk in a relentless undertone. “I thought you were dead,” he’s saying, all the worse for the lack of deliberate malice. “After everything, Akechi. You let me think you were dead again.”

Akechi lets his head drop back onto the kerb, because fuck getting up, he’ll just lie here in the gutter. “You sound so surprised.”

“You—” Ren jerks forward, looks like he thinks about throwing a kick. So it’s fortunate this is the moment the police arrive, a fat one and a tall one; honestly, Akechi thinks they breed them that way, in pairs. He feels a stab of vindictive satisfaction as the fat one grabs Ren by the wrists, until the colour drains from Ren’s face like someone’s pulled off one of his feet.

Akechi closes his eyes. “Wait,” he says, getting up with a wince and producing his police ID, haha, because he’s a shadow operative even if he’s the worst they have and a liability; he almost works with the police more than he works at the Kirijo compound, by now. The two beat cops go a bit bug-eyed, the idiots. “I’ll handle this,” Akechi says. “He’s just a little upset. Won’t happen again, will it?” He smiles at Ren, with a flash of sharp teeth, with the bruise rising on his cheekbone: play along.

Ren’s eyes burn, and for a moment it looks like he’ll say something graphic in fluent gutter trash, rather than obey; Akechi relates with his whole being. But then Ren looks down, sullen, and shakes his head: no. Akechi beams for the cops.

“You see,” he says. “Sorry to have troubled you both. He’s very emotional, it’s not really his fault. Thank you for your work….” And they float away, charmed by a few utterly rote words from a stranger with a confidential department ID. And then….

And then that just leaves Ren. Who is staring at Akechi in bitter silence, and obviously, beneath his flat expression, raging.

Someone appears at Akechi’s elbow. It’s the proprietor of the bookshop. “Your book,” he says nervously, handing Akechi the paper bag he dropped.

“Oh. Yes. Thank you,” Akechi says, taking it. The package is a little dented at one corner, but otherwise fine. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” He bows, and the shopkeeper bows and hurries away, and Akechi could just die, again, it’s all such a fucking—

Except that Ren is still there, staring at him with Joker’s eyes; with all that fury and force and—and something else, something brighter and deeper and so much worse. “Where are your glasses?” Akechi finds himself asking, switching his thicker, cheerful mask for his much more comfortable flat one.

“I don’t need them for you,” Ren says.

Fuck. “Well,” Akechi says, “I’m not dead. As we’ve established. And you’re not arrested. So I suggest we both go our—”

Ren steps forward, interrupting him. “I can’t believe you’re still doing the same old shit,” he says. “They let you work for the police? Are you going to be on TV again, next week?”

That’s too much; far too much from Ren, who has no idea of what he escaped, no idea Akechi paid his debt this way. His voice turns brittle. “Interesting that you assume I had a choice, Amamiya.” Ren flinches, peeping out through his own mask. Akechi lifts the book.

“I hope you haven’t damaged this.”

He wants to close his eyes. Instead, he turns away and starts walking, in silence. Ren ought to fuck off, but he’ll certainly follow; he’s just wired that way. The Jimbocho street feels soft and shaky, like Mementos did, except now Akechi’s too used to solid ground and it feels like his ankles will twist from under him at every moment.

Ren tags at his heels like a dog. “I’m not going anywhere, Akechi. You’ll have to kill me.”

Akechi pauses, almost glances back. “I can just arrest you.” Technically; somehow he’s never been put in a position where the right move would be an arrest.

“Yeah,” Ren is saying. “You just proved you won’t do that.”

Akechi presses a knuckle between his eyes, as he screws them shut. “What do you want? How did you even find me?”

“You don’t think I read?” Ren says, defensively, not looking around at the three bookshops within ten metres. “I just didn’t read around you.”

“I know you read,” Akechi says flatly. “I saw everything you did.”

He still hasn’t properly turned. He feels Ren’s eyes on the back of his neck, through his hair, through his shirt collar; he thinks he’d feel them through a brick fucking wall. “Hifumi saw you,” Ren says.

That’s when he turns, incredulous. Togo had seen him? And known who he was? “I’ve never spoken with Togo-san. How did she remember me?”

“Don’t ask me,” Ren says, with a weird light in his eye, like he’s pleased Akechi turned back to him. “Seems like it’s just a thing. My confidants—do you even know about those?—they all remember.”

For a moment he’s silent. “When everyone else has forgotten.”

“Yeah,” Ren says quietly. His hands have gone into his pockets. He’s taller than he was; his eyes are on a level with Akechi’s, now. Or is he just not slouching?

Akechi sighs. It makes sense. Togo, who Akechi had no connection with; who had no reason to share any of Okumura’s discretion. All of Amamiya’s little projects, remembering Akechi laughing like an idiot, playing the fool, bringing himself down on television.

He feels like he can’t think straight, like he always did. Like he wants to stay put, learning and listening, picking through every little detail Amamiya might or might not have dropped. “I’m sorry Mementos is gone,” he says. Ren looks back at him, unreadable. “Perhaps we could at least have beaten the shit out of each other.”

“Yeah,” Ren says, not laughing. “That might have helped.”

“It did help,” Akechi says abruptly. “Both times, in fact. Because I really never liked you, Amamiya.”

“I know,” Ren tells him, unaffected. “And here we both still are, I guess.” He stands there like someone’s dropped a block of concrete on the pavement. Like Akechi really would have to kill him, to make him give up or go away. And part of Akechi still wants to, while part of him wants this moment to linger. The two of them—one a hero and one, well, not exactly a hero—who entered the fire from opposite sides, and came out changed, together, and alone.

A coin flips. He feels Hereward’s resolve inside him.

“I was going for coffee,” he says, still curt. “Come, if you want. Or stand there like an idiot, till you get arrested again.”

He starts walking in the direction of the nearest coffee shop; it was that or let’s smash a ceramic bear. Ren follows. “A coffee shop?” he asks, at Akechi’s elbow now. “Is this your revenge?”

“Ren,” Akechi tells him, perfectly serious, “you have absolutely no idea.”

#asks #persona 5 #shuake #goro akechi #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #things i write

[kpop-fanatic-lover16]

Christmas Past - Lee Heeseung

Genre: fluff, angst

Pairing: Enhypen Heeseung x fem!reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of death

♡

The night was buzzing with energy. Lights were flashing wildly, the music was loud with heavy bass. Everyone was wearing some sort of scandalous clothing following the theme of the party as well as holding an alcoholic beverage. Smoke was also in the air making you cough occasionally in discomfort. Certain parts of the house had more people than others which made you gravitate toward the less crowded areas. 

It was Friday, the last night of university before everyone went home for the holidays. Normally you'd be at your dorm packing up a suitcase to visit home for the break, however, a few of your friends begged you to come to the party as the last celebration. Now that you were here, you were regretting just slightly. More due to the smoke and crowd. The drinking and music didn't bother you like you thought they would. 

You were making your way through the house, trying to find an empty pocket somewhere to escape the people when you hit someone with your body much harder than you thought. Apologies sputtered from your lips as you looked back to see who you possibly injured. His face was so familiar to you and he seemed to recognize you as well.

"Y/n?" he asked loudly over the music. Once you heard his voice you knew exactly who he was. Choi Yeonjun. One of your good friends from your hometown who you grew up with.

"Oh my gosh, it's been so long!" you said to him with an excited smile. He gave you a big hug, smiling with matched excitement. He turned to the friend he was with and asked him to spare him a minute. The friend, who you recognized as Park Sunghoon from History, nodded and waved at you awkwardly in a brief hello.

"Here," Yeonjun yelled over the now blaring music. "It's quieter in the other living room."

The two of you pushed through the crowd and walked away from the music into a smaller living room deeper into the house. Once it was quieter, he turned to you with another smile. "I haven't seen you in a while. How are you?"

"I'm doing great," you answered. "What about you? Don't tell me you've been at school this whole time and I've simply missed you?"

Yeonjun laughed lightly at the thought of being so close and missing each other completely, "Fortunately for you, no. I go to the university on the south side of the city. I'm just here because Sunghoon invited me before I return home tomorrow."

"Oh, that makes a lot more sense. I'm here for the exact reasons you are, although I seemed to misplace my friends the moment I got here," you replied truthfully. Yeonjun laughed again, looking around at your surroundings. "I'm heading home tomorrow for the first time in a while. I think it's about time that I visit home."  

"You are?" Yeonjun was pleasantly surprised. "Did you want to ride with me and Sunghoon? There's plenty of room."

You gave him an appreciative smile, "I would, but this is my first time going back home since I left so I think I should go alone so I have time to prepare myself."

Yeonjun smiled again before he began to nod slowly. He knew exactly why you hadn't come home in a while and he didn't blame you. The silence settled on the two of you as the thoughts of your past swirled around.

Yeonjun remembered the tragedy that circled the town during his sophomore year of high school. It was your mom who passed away from a long battle with health. It was a month before Christmas. The holidays were hard for you which ultimately pushed you to leave town and start your life somewhere else.

In the midst of that trauma, there was someone who helped you through it all. He was another good friend of yours; he was a good friend you fell in love with and continued to love until you left. Once your mother died, he saw you give up your time to be with your family, which he understood and respected greatly. What he didn't understand was despite how much support he'd given and the love he shared, you hurt him by pushing him away and breaking his heart by leaving.

"Is he still..." you began to say, wanting desperately to know if he was still there.

Yeonjun knew exactly who you were referring to. He thought for a minute trying to remember what he'd seen and heard last time he went home. "I believe he goes home for the holidays to his family. He attends the same college as I do, though I never see him. I think he's in the same art department as me."

You nodded at the information. Maybe you could visit your dad without running into him. 

"Hey," Yeonjun said, breaking your train of worry. He gave you another hug, "It was good to see you. Maybe I'll see you around back home."

"That would be great."

 The next morning you finished packing up everything you needed for the next three weeks and said goodbye to your roommate who was still asleep on her bed under her big comforter. She returned the goodbye with a mumble and a small 'be careful' and went back to sleep. You needed to get on the road as early as 5:30 A.M. to avoid the snowstorm that was about to hit your hometown. Hopefully, you'd get there around mid-afternoon, a few hours ahead of the storm. 

The scenery all the way home filled your heart with happiness. Unwanted memories didn't fill your mind like you thought they would. Instead, you were filled with joy and all the good memories you had when traveling with family and friends as well as all the memories you had growing up as a child. Snowball fights, Christmas movies by the open fire, tinsel and glittered pine cones decorating the tree in the corner of your living room, Christmas lights and the lamp posts downtown with Christmas decor attached to them, extended high over the road...all of it made you excited to get home. 

Once you pulled into town you immediately felt the stress leave your body. All the things you tried to push away due to pain now brought you comfort. Tears fell down your cheeks as happiness overwhelmed you. To celebrate your effort in coming home for the first time in so long, you stopped by your favorite coffee place and got your favorite drink. You didn't recognize anyone but that was okay, it still felt the same.

A few minutes after being back on the road, you turned into the driveway of your old home. A car was parked by the curb leaving the driveway empty. A ballpark guess had you assuming your brother was over visiting with your dad. You smiled at the lights on the roof line and the little blow-up Santa in his sleigh. Your father is still decorating after all these years.  

Frozen snow crunched under your feet as you walk up to the door. It was a bit tricky due to the ice on the ground, but with careful steps, you eventually made it to the door. Knowing your dad left the door unlocked for you, you opened the door and walked inside without any hesitation.

"Dad?" you called out into the empty space. You removed your shoes and walked further into the house, glancing into rooms. "Dad?" you called again.

Everything was the same as you left it. Slowly, you ventured into the living room and walked over to the glowing fireplace, gazing at the pictures on the mantle. The warmth from the fire warmed your cold hands and smelled faintly of cedar. 

"Sugar?" your dad's voice caught your attention immediately as you spun around to check behind you. There he was, a little older, but still the same. An overjoyed laugh escaped him as you bounded across the living room and tackled him in a giant hug. He squeezed you hard in his arms, patting your hair with his hand as he continued to make noises of joy. Your dad thought he'd never get to hug you again and this feeling assured him it wouldn't be the last.

"Oh how I've missed you," he said into your hair. You pulled back to look at him, letting him wipe the tears from your eyes. "You've grown into a beautiful woman."

"I missed you so much," you said to him in reply. "I'm so sorry I didn't come home sooner."

Movement behind your dad caught your eye and made you look into the kitchen in confusion. In seconds your heart plummeted to the bottom of your stomach. Lee Heeseung, the one you fell in love with, the one you left completely heartbroken, was standing in your kitchen. Noticing your now rigid body and shocked face, your dad pulled back and glanced behind him.

"Oh," he said with a smile. "I forgot to tell you that Heeseung was over. He and I were arguing over who should go get more firewood. Now that you're here, you can keep him company while I go get it."

"That wasn't the deal," Heeseung began to say, but your dad was already going to the back door ignoring Heeseung's objection. Now the two of you were alone.

Heeseung's gaze drifted from the space your dad disappeared back over to where you were standing. His deep gaze penetrated your entire being. He was mature now, older. His style had upgraded from a hoodie and joggers to a sweater and jean jacket paired with jeans. Heeseung was taller now, much taller than you and your dad. One thing that hadn't changed though was his eyes. His deep chocolate brown eyes. His eyes always had a small glint in them no matter how he looked. 

"Hi, Y/n," your name rolled off his tongue with a bit of airiness to it. It made your knees weak just like when he was yours. 

"What are you doing here?" Wow. Great first response after several years.

"I come back here to be with him during the holidays," came his answer. His words made you sick to your stomach, almost as if his intentions were to be a better caretaker to your dad than you. It made you feel sour.

"So you just live here now?" your words were bitter now. Then you remembered the person you were now. An independent woman who didn't need others to make her confidence. People's words didn't put your self-esteem down along with your character. You had to remember to be that person.

And yet, Heeseung's words made you feel like an insignificant pesticide.

Heeseung had also changed. His words had a bite to them now, "Like you?"

Another jab to your heart. You gave him a sneer. "Don't act as if you know me, Heeseung."

His long legs carried him in three strides across the floor before he was a foot in front of you. He leaned down with a sneer of his own, "I don't have to act as if I do. I may not know who you are now, but I do know that some things haven't changed. Don't call me an expert, but when people go through suffering, they usually lean on the family they have. You chose not to, and now I step in to make sure everything is fine, which I can say is more than you do. This is the first time you've been home in how long exactly?"

"Stop pretending to be better than me!" you snapped, pushing him back away from your face. You could sense all of his feelings for you, both good and bad. "Not everyone grieves the same way. I knew what I needed to do for my healing and I followed through with it." 

"I'm not better than you," Heeseung pressed his lips into a tight line. He broke your gaze and glanced around the room with a heavy sigh, "I'm not even pretending. But maybe for once in your life, how about an apology instead of questioning my presence? You should be grateful that I chose to come here every holiday to make sure your dad was okay and didn't feel alone during the holidays. I don't blame you for wanting to leave and grieve that way, but eventually, you have to let go of yourself and look to those around you who grieve differently. If you believe nobody grieves the same way then look at your dad. He needed someone by his side."

"And what about you?" you asked, waiting for him to attack you with how you broke his heart in two before leaving him behind. "You clearly didn't want me beside you. You let me go without even a fight."

"I don't care about the past. I let you go because I love you," Heeseung's voice softened. "I still do. I don't care whether you left me behind, I just want you to apologize for breaking your promise to come home sooner and leaving those who loved you behind."

Your silence let his patience fall. Heeseung straightened up, inhaling deeply through his nose, "Fine. Have fun building your relationships from the ground up."

The rest of the day was sour.

Apparently, Heeseung stayed at your dad's house during the holidays because his parents always had friends stay at his house. He would leave for a few hours during the day to go visit them but always returned. Your dad treated him as if he was his own child. Heeseung even got along well with your brother when he dropped by to say hello. It didn't annoy you, it just made you sad. Now you saw how much Heeseung went out of his way to pick up your slack. He filled the holes in your dad's heart and made him happy again.

You accepted Heeseung and his efforts when you sat by the fire with your dad, two weeks later. Of course, your dad noticed your behavior the moment he returned from collecting firewood outside the day you arrived. He observed you and Heeseung quietly over span of two weeks trying to understand. The talks he had with Heeseung after you went to bed told him that Heeseung wasn't trying to replace you or make you feel any less of a daughter; his intentions were to take the stress off of you and give you as much time as you needed to heal while he took care of things back at home. 

Now it was time to hear your side.

"I love you Sugar," he began slowly. You looked up from your book and gave him a beautiful smile. "I don't blame you one bit for leaving. I understand and you never hurt me by doing so. But why are you so bothered by Heeseung? I remember you two loved each other more than anything in this world."

A sigh escaped you as you thought over his words, "He still loves me. I don't think he ever stopped."

"Do you return his affection?"

Your dad watched you nod. The truth was you were still head over heels in love with Heeseung, you just didn't think you deserved a second chance. Your dad smiled, "Well then, I think it's about time you set things right. It's up to you to do that."

Later that night, you were laying in bed wide awake. It was nearly one o'clock in the morning. You were going over what you would say to him in the morning when you got up. Sentences formed in your head, changing every so often as you traded certain words for better ones until the sentence was completely different and you trashed it. You thought about your actions, whether or not you would ask him to join you somewhere private and ask for his forgiveness or if you would just let things flow. By the time ten minutes had passed, your heart was racing in anxiety and your head was starting to hurt.

You threw off the covers and sat up, knowing you needed to get up. Quietly, you opened your door and walked out into the hallway, passed your dad's door, and away from Heeseung's which was further down the hall from your room. Considering his door looked closed when you peeked to your left, you assumed he was asleep and went right to go downstairs. 

The Christmas tree was glowing in the living room, giving you light to see. For a moment you paced the room trying to clear your mind. Your heart was still racing from nerves. You needed a glass of water or something to distract your body from your emotions. Unfortunately for your heart, it nearly spiked when came around the wall of the kitchen. Heeseung was standing by the stove waiting for the electric kettle to heat up. He jumped at the sight of you, sighing the fear out of his body.

"You scared me!" he exclaimed in a hushed tone. 

"I scared you?" you asked incredulously. "You scared me. What are you even doing?"

He simply pointed at the kettle. You sighed exasperatedly at the situation. It did nothing for your anxiety and now that you were standing in front of him, you felt like you needed to do your apology now.

"What are you doing? You've never been awake this late." 

There was no way you were going to tell him that you'd spent an hour and a half lying awake, figuring out how to say your apology to him until you drove yourself ballistic. However, you weren't going to lie to him.

You looked at the oven in contemplation, trying to decide if you were going to follow through with the idea that just popped into your head. When you looked back at him, he had his eyebrows raised telling you nonverbally that he was waiting for you to speak.

Screw it.

With a determined step, you walked over to him, grabbed his collar, and pulled him down to your lips. He didn't fight you which made you tilt your chin up, connecting your lips with his. You held it there for a second before loosening your grip on his collar and pulling back.

"I don't understand," came his words gently. His eyebrows furrowed, his heart racing.

"I'm sorry." Your words struck Heeseung's heart and rushed goosebumps across his skin.

In seconds, he had you pressed against the counter where he was just standing, pressing his lips to yours. He placed his hands at the base of your ears and tilted your head back so he could deepen the kiss. He took it slow, wanting to feel every fiber of your lips, every new curve of your body he hasn't felt before. The feeling of you against him and your lips molding perfectly against his like they used to set off flames in his chest. His heart was beating rapidly and his legs felt weak. Your hands on his waist grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to pull him flat against you had his mind spinning in a haze. 

Heeseung pulled back and lifted you onto the counter surface before reattaching his lips to yours. The counter made you the same height as him. Heeseung used his hands to tell you to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling you to the very edge of the countertop so he could hold you against him.

"Why?" Heeseung mumbled lowly. "Why is it that I'm so addicted to you? Why does your waist, thighs, lips, eyes, hair, skin, hands, and neck drive me crazier than I remember?"

You kissed him again, holding the kiss as your hands held his head still at the joint where his neck met his jawline. When you pulled back Heeseung's eyes were closed prompting you to lay a soft kiss on each of his eyelids, the tip of his nose, and finally his lips. He kissed back, hard. He was holding you so close you didn't think you could get any closer.

"Will you give me a second chance to love you?" you asked him, brushing the hair out of his eyes. There was a glint in his eyes. The same he always had.

"Yes," he whispered into the silent air. Heeseung wrapped his arms around your waist staring into your eyes and looking at the features of your face. He made a groan of happiness, pecking your lips.  "When did you get so beautiful?"

"Stop," you smiled, feeling embarrassed by the sudden compliment. The kettle started to sing, prompting Heeseung to remove it from the heat. 

"Come here," Heeseung said, helping you off the counter. He handed you the cup of tea and grabbed the other cup for himself. He pulled the two of you into the living room and over to the couch. Heeseung set both cups on the coffee table and sat back into the cushions, pulling you into his side. 

The two of you sat there for hours, dozing in and out of sleep as the Christmas tree continued to gleam brightly in the dark. Heeseung's arms around you, the feeling of his slow breaths underneath you, and his occasional head kisses were the perfect way to heal your Christmas past.

#kpop imagines #enhypen heeseung #enhypen imagines #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen jungwon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen #enhypen drabbles #heeseung imagines #heeseung drabbles #enhypen soft hours #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #enhypen christmas drabbles #enhypen scenarios #heeseung x reader #heeseung soft hours #enhypen fanfic #kpop drabbles #kpop fanfic

[tin-cant]

I've been thinking about the Brenattos recently

I've been engaging with the cr fandom for maybe a year or so, particularly in Veth centric parts of it and I've noticed two groups. The "veth×yeza is a perfect ship and I adore them and they deserve everything" and the "They have serious unresolved issues in their marriage that the fandom ignores" group. I follow both groups because honestly anyone who calls themselves a veth stan is cool in my book and has amazing taste.

But the thing is I kinda agree with both? I adored them when I was first watching c2 but I've seen some great meta and things Sam has said on talks that makes it pretty clear they have problems. Maybe im so conflicted because I like them both or I like the concept of these two parents being put through so much and coming back to eachother. Maybe it's just a matter of taste and I'm a little baby im denial who can only handle so much relationship angst.

It could also be because of how it was handled in c2. Mostly they were treated as this adorable couple with a message of acceptance, but then we'd get hints that Veth wasnt happy. I believe Sam even mentioned that he expected Yeza to get confrontational and was disappointed when he didn't. The campaign just kinda ended without tackling any of it. It felt like it was all set up and no payoff or even addressing of said setup. All of the neins ending were very clearly meant to be good and them settling down pretty much permanently. So Veth being stuck in an unhappy marriage just doesn't seem right to me but an offscreen divorce that was never mentioned during the end of c2 also feels really lame.

Where does this put me personally as someone who wants to see the angst and the wholesomeness? Personally I adore the idea of them promising to be more open with eachother and slowly improving over the years. Can you imagine if there was a scene somewhere around the end of c2 where Yeza finally breaks down and admits how scared Veth leaving constantly makes him and Veth explaining to him why the idea of being a housewife again doesn't make her happy? Them both acknowledging that they kept these things to themselves because they're scared of hurting eachother. That leading into them discussing what Veth can do in the future that will actually make her happy without leaving constantly or putting herself in danger. Veth thinking on it and deciding to open the camp. Veth realizing how lonely Yeza can get and taking breaks when she gets to caught up in work to spend time with him. Them paying attention to when it sounds a little bit to much like the other is saying things just to make them happy and calling eachother out for it. For me at least that's way more interesting than the idea of a post canon divorce or a perfect couple that has zero problems. (Probably cause I'm an overly optimistic sucker for people learning how to be happy together again)

This unfortunatly isnt a take that I've seen others have yet so I'm releasing this rambly post into the wild with the hopes someone will eat it up. Maybe even write a fic cause you can probably tell from this post I'm no writer.

#now i will admit that this doesnt really fix the veth being in love with two people thing #But how would thay even be solved?? other than polyamory i suppose #which dont get me wrong is cute and i will read fics of it immediately #but im trying to stay somewhat canon conpliant with this #also if youre a veth stan and disagree we can agree to disagree because i still love you for supporting the gal at all #you obviously have great taste anyway #critical role #veth brenatto #yeza brenatto #brenattos #cr2

[hyp-fixator]

art ask game: do you have a favorite color palette, have you done a lot of collabs, and whats your creative process?

Oooh fun fun

Some of my favourite colour palletes are ones that have warm tones or high contrast!! I love the palletes that are kind of like a neon sign too, ykwim? Black background with slowly growing colours to a fully saturated end product- THEY ALWAYS LOOK SO EDIBLE... I can never accurately pull it off though

I've done a few of collabs! Not a lot, but the main one I remember doing was a few years ago, a small group of people including me in a discord server decided to design a demon! I think I got the colouring stage? It was fun! Otherwise it was kinda like those "draw the gang" type collabs, nothing too serious/fully rendered

hmmmm my creative process...? I guess I can chat a little about how I figure out the designs for the P! Gang! (This'll be a long part so I'll put it under the cut!)

The first thing I do, almost always, is figure out the vibe of the character

I then correlate the vibe to an animal that gives the same vibe (Aka skate and a golden retriever)

If theres a theme or aesthetic the character goes along with I'll usually grab references from the web and perhaps doodle some ideas down (like I'll do with vinestaff and japanese kimonos)

If there's technology involved, expect me to have come across some cool tech that happened in real life before, and to see me add that into the design (like rocket's prosthetics/hyperlaser's helmet)

if I'm having a really tough time figuring out how to make a character look decent, I'll usually take a few minutes before I go to bed to sketch out some ideas- I did this for Boombox's jelly limbs and Slingshot

Afterwards I usually start drawing! Finding out a pose at first is a tough one, considering it has to show off the character while presenting the design as well- if their arm or something is hiding their chest, there's probably not a lot going on there/it's already shown somewhere else

The lines were a tough part to the process before I figured out the sizes I was gonna use- 3px for the main details, 2px for the inbetween, and 1px for the tiny details. (This is why I'm gonna go back to Subspace- his lines are totally out of whack compared to the rest of the gang!!)

My colouring process is hard to explain because I tend to just- do it. But I can try! Usually I start by placing out the flat colours and rendering it out one layer at a time. I try to get the colours down, they don't have to be perfect cause I'll end up tweaking them later. I render one colour at a time, (they're usually the same material,) and just go through that during the whole process! Depending on the material I also choose a lighting angle

After the colour I go in and edit them with overlays, colour the lines occasionally, and that's it!

Pop on the signature across the design, post it on the discord servers, tumblr, etc

After I post it I usually take a small hiatus from drawing to think and regain some inspiration, reblogging a bunch of stuff and then starting the process again!

I take my time with things like this, so itll be unlikely for me to post two at a time! Scythe and Ban were a special case because I forgot to put her into the poll and ban was the next guy I was gonna draw! (I personally can also see the effects of this on Scythes design cause I drew her second- I'm not as satisfied with her as I could be, which is why I'm also redoing her.)

Uhhhh yeah that should be it!

#art question #ask game #answered #tumblr asks

[lucysarah-c]

Now I wanna know Levi's love life in the Underground, how it all started, the women he went out with and his first time-

Hello love! How are you?

Are you coming from Holy ground ch. 18? haha Levi's life in the underground is something that I adore to discuss about but I do understand that my point of view from it isn't particularly popular.

With that being said, I add this warning of "underage sex, underage alcohol or drug use, dubious consent and prostitution" ALSO, this is a hella long reply. Sorry

In Holy Ground, Levi mentions that he had 2 fuck buddies in the laps of more on less 4 years before joining the scouts as exclusive partners to keep the "clap" to a minimum (STIs). And, before that, he used to have more casual sex or random hookups. Apparently, from what is mentioned some of them was an MP girl around his age that offered for patrollings. Levi own words " I’m not apologising for shit that I did when I was eighteen, nineteen probably high, drunk, both or trying to space out from the shitty life I had to carry on."

I based this headcanons on personal experience I've either heard from my time helping adults from marginal environments that couldn't go to school as kids, their parents were either drug addicts, in jail and they were basically raised on the streets. You can be old enough to protect yourself but for the sake of surviving usually belonging to groups is the only way. With that being said and thinking that Kenny probably abandoned Levi at the age of 11-13. Levi probably formed part of other's thug's gangs until he was old enough to fully stand on his own. Those environments are never healthy and usually expose extremely toxic masculinity ideas, plus I do also think that Kenny fit or had those thoughts on his own. Therefore, I think that Levi probably lost his virginity at a really young age to prove he was "a man" and not "a boy". Probably with a prostitute. Somewhere the age of 15. This was an insane practice not until long ago, to take guys to "debut" as if this wasn't an abuse. Because men always want to have sex right? I'm being sarcastic here haha just in case.

I do not think Levi thinks deeply of this, he's the consequence of the society he was raised in (period of time etc). Therefore, when he started to slowly build his reputation as someone strong and powerful, he started to receive way more attention if you know what I mean haha. Teens are curious, even Levi and (as he mentioned) he was probably consuming either alcohol or drugs because 1) his environment would tell him it's the cool thing to do and you don't want to look like a "pussy" 2) probably under some circumstances it's cheaper than food 3) life down there must be a hell for a teen and needed to space out. So during this period, that would say between 18-20 years old Levi, I think that if a girl was interested in him and he was interested too, he was like "Why not? I may die tomorrow"

Then I think he had a severe mind change when he found Isabel (in the manga of ACWNR. Isabel is found by Levi as a little kid and practically raised by him). To this rate, Levi wasn't only powerful enough to be completely on his own, not depending on other gangs, but also taking care of a kid made him extremely responsible for the things he did and the people he surrounded himself with. Someone, Isabel, depended on him. He grew extremely picky and probably decided to get clean for real. "be the man he wished he had while growing up,". This is the time of his life that I call "fuck buddies", I think Levi was old enough to understand the consequences of keeping sexual relationships with people that may not be clean and also the willying to do more of his life than plain surviving. So this is when these two women come into the picture. Of one I've not imagined much and the other yes. Both women Levi trusted that wouldn't use him to get info or hurt Isabel and that he probably enjoyed the company enough to be like "We could fuck, no feelings, just two adults enjoying adulting,". The first one, I think her name was Emma and was at least 5 years older than him. She worked at a bar and started to do business with him and they got along really well. Until one day (as it said in Holy Ground) after almost 2 years of being sex partners she said "I'm getting married and moving up, so this is the end,". I think Levi was probably really shocked because he enjoyed her company very much and didn't even know she was getting to know someone "romantically,". Not gonna lie, even if he didn't love her, he felt a bit hurt of "Oh... ok," But we know Levi, he probably just accepted and moved on.

The second girl, I don't have much planned for her. Only that she was probably around Levi's age, maybe one or two years younger and part of his own gang. They lasted for a solid year and half, once again not real romantic feelings but "sexual interest and keeping it exclusive to avoid STIs,". He cut it without much information when he was finally sure they were going to move to the surface with the scouts. She "implied" that she had an idea of what was going on, that she wanted to go with him and that she "really liked him,". Something that not only shocked Levi but also he wasn't really happy with that. He wasn't romantically interested in that way and they did have this sort of "no feelings" thing so her impling that was like "so you had been in this shit all this time WAITING for me to catch feelings??? Oh no... what a fucking mess"

So, that's it! At least in Holy Ground, YN is Levi's first romantic interest... not the first girl tho haha. My only headcanon for the second girl (if you follow holy ground ) is that she ends up hearing about Levi dating OFFICIALLY a Sheena's wall rich girl and she gets offended because well it's like "oh so a posh surface girl is worthy of your love but not me?" haha

#levi ackerman #levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #captain levi #levi aot #snk levi #snk #attack on titans #levi x reader #levi x y/n #aot levi #snk levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackeman #levi attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin levi #captain levi ackerman x you #captain levi x reader #captian levi x reader #captain levi fanfiction #captain levi ackerman x reader #captain levi ackerman x y/n #captain levi ackerman fic #captain levi x you

[presleysweetheart]

A little personal experience

Edit: I don't know how the tag list thingy work as I'm fairly new to Tumblr, so feel free to tell if you are not fine with me tagging you and also don't feel pressured to read it. Thanks folks!

Hi people, I just wanted to share a little real story that happened to me couple of months ago. I just started some sort of letter to Elvis and I ended up talking about this, I guess i just needed it to let it out. So i figured out to share it with you guys.

I don’t know how to begin this letter, but I’ll try my best.

You have been in my life since I was a little girl, maybe seven years old?

My probably drunk father brought home this record by you one night, and I haven’t stopped listening to it since then.

I used to take a big record player with me and listening to it all alone, I didn’t understand the lyrics, but I kinda got the feeling of each song, because, you know, that’s universal.

I always felt that connection with you. You were ‘that man’.

When I became aware of your story last year I couldn’t help but cry, I didn’t know how much you suffered, what took you to that end, but now I can only felt compassion for you, everlasting love.

I’m embarrassed to share this with you, but I did something stupid. I went to a tribute concert of an impersonator of you. I went with my father, who is far from perfect, probably the cause of most of sadness and insecurities. Now he has cancer, and has become a rather soft person. The evening was really special, because I didn’t think that I could possibly see something remotely similar to you, it was a beautiful illusion. The singer was a really tall man, with a deep captivating voice. He went off stage during ‘Love me tender’ and began to kiss on the cheeks the women on the audience. I couldn’t believe it, but I waited my turn so nervously. He kissed me briefly and smiled when I placed my hand on his sweaty chest.

Long story short,  we had a date and he was charming, he gave a couple of your CD’S and I’ve never been more kissed on my entire life. His soft resemblance of you made my stomach turn upside down. We made love all night, for hours, just looking at each other eyes, going really slowly. I didn’t sleep a bit, but I enjoyed being hugged by him while he did.

The next morning he was really quiet and acting strange, but assured me that he was just tired from not sleeping enough. He stopped talking to me and I tried to keep in touch but he just gave me excuses. I asked for an explanation but he ended up ghosting me.

I’m embarrassed to admit how that hurt. I could eat nearly anything for weeks, I only cried and became obsessed trying to figure out what I did wrong.

I think the emotion and then the grief I felt with this story was a product of the illusion of that guy being you. He wasn’t,  you are unique and I was a fool. I hope you can forgive me for that.

I only found comfort knowing – feeling – that you’d never do that to me. Because you’re my guardian angel, you’d never hurt me like that.

You  are my biggest love, and you always ease my mind. I hope you’re somewhere up there and you watch over me.

@elvisslut @elvisabutler @vintagepresley @ashtag6887 @h0unds-of-h3ll @headfullofpresley @elvislittleone @p0lksaladannie @karel-in-wonderland @vintageshanny @claire-elvisgirl @60svintage @xxanaduwrites @doll-elvis

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis fic #elvis love #delusional

[rossithepixie]

hello my favorite pixie!💫 i’m so curious about your genshin harem! can you tell me more about your dynamics with each of them?

Ahhh hi amira! Oh goodness I don't know if I'll do all of them but i'll certainly give you the main ones! Kaeya was my first love from Genshin so he's the best place to start. I feel like this ends up a summary of our backstory more than our dynamic...

We're a very classic childhood friends to lovers sort of pair. My best childhood memories are of spending time running around the rolling hill and through the forests of mondstadt with him and Diluc. I left mondstadt for several years during my teens though and came back to him being unexpectedly closed off and Diluc being gone. Everything had fallen apart while i was away. I had to gently bring his walls back down and give him somewhere safe. I told him even if he has secrets he can't share I understand, that whatever it could be I would still be there for him because he's home to me so I hope that I can be home for him too. It was a turning point. Slowly he tells me what had gotten him rejected the last time he told someone and though it came as a shock I still pulled him close to me and left my heart open. (maybe this will get it's own lil fic at some point)

Tighnari!

We're a very cozy pair I think. I likely would have left not just akademiya but Sumeru as a whole once i graduated if not for how close we became during our time as students. I stay for him and become a forest watcher with him. I work as his assistant. He a grounding presence for me and my more emotional driven nature. He likes that about me but also knows i can work myself up more than I need to be without an outside voice of reason. Which he is happy to be. Or relationship was very slow burn and it didn't hit a tipping point until I was injured on the job. For professionalism's he'd kept his feelings to himself but seeing me hurt made him realize how easily I could slip away. When he confessed he told me he entirely understood if I was to uncomfortable to keep working with him and he could arrange me a transfer to work with someone else and- and I cut him off by cupping his cheek and resting my forehead against his. "for a pair of smart people we sure are stupid. You're not getting rid of me now," Is what I tell him. And really things remain mostly the same and the other forest watchers just sigh in relief because the weird tension between the two of is finally gone. Also I move into his place so someone else can use my old hut. gandharva ville isn't very big afterall.

Lyney Hmmm this is a newer one i'm still figuring out But my personality is not dissimilar to that of lynette or even freminet (we actually have the same mbti), that is to say that I'm actually on the more shy and sensitive side compared to how flamboyant and extroverted Lyney is. Something he's used to in other words. But I'm good at acting extroverted and i do like other people, I just get drained rather quickly. That is something Lyney picks up on quickly and easily. He's always able to masterfully redirect people's attention away from me so I can get a reprieve and if it calls for is able to make us "vanish" from wherever it is.

Scara/wanderer

Oh I like to bother him.

Okay just kidding. Sort of. I like to affectionately poke his buttons but in truth we're a very protective pair. Once he realizes I genuinely care about him and don't plan to go anywhere he becomes very protective. Anytime I do something dangerous he insists he should go with me, especially since i'm doing said dangerous things at the behest of Nahida "So isn't it my job to do this anyway?" He wouldn't be able to bear it if he knew he could have prevented me being hurt or worse but just wasn't there.

spoilers for scara's story and insight into some of my abilities in genshin: But i imagine that part of what set us on the path to being together was that after he was defeated i insisted to Nahida that I go heal him. I wasn't even sure it would work given what he is but it did. It forged a reluctant sort of bond between the two of us and Nahida asked me to be the one to keep an eye on him, and then well he made everyone forget him. When he comes back it's strange because i get the strongest sense of deja vu. Who is this person why do they feel so familiar? And then Nahida decides to stick us together "for work purposes because she knows we work well together" How would she know i work well with someone I don't know? I don't know him right? Why does he look sad when he thinks I can't see?

As I so often do, i end up working on leylines given my area of study. Disaster nearly strikes and when I come to i'm being carried to a safer place. It occurs to me then as I dazedly stare at his face that I do know him. He nearly drops me in shock when I say his old name. And that's that for now because this is getting out of hand! Scar's especially was getting too long. Maybe I'll make actual fics for some of these. I know I left out a few even though I really could have wrote for more of my genshin harem but maybe i'll do a part 2.

@pastelle-rabbit because i do not want tumblr to eat the notifications @scarabrat because you said you wanted to see some of my selfship lore

#just selfship things #rossi x kaeya #rossi #lyney #rossi x tighnari #rossi x wanderer #rossi x scaramouche

[iravaid]

hiii. i adore ur little thang (lunchbox) and i was wondering if there was any like, fic, or posts i could go to To Obtain The Full Lunchbox Lore Experience (insert a trademark symbol here bc im too lazy to copypaste it) < 3 < 3 < 3

Hi! Hello! I also adore that little thang, and am always happy to see people do as well skdhf

I don't think I've made a Certified Lunchbox Lore Sheet, I've adapted her for use as a TTRPG NPC, and talked about her here and there, but will probably make a dedicated post about her in the future + an oc sheet. maybe. if there is time and my attention span allows 😭

Lunchbox was initially made to serve as a character in my Nines/LaCroix fic, WDH, but in what has been posted so far, she has made the one appearance (Hoping to include her more as an emotional crux + heathen to the world), I am working on rewriting WDH as I'm getting back into it and my writing style + intention for the plot has changed in the past year and a half (NEARLY TWO YEARS. People are so incredibly patient <3). She's existed as a character since late 2020 and was my first VtM oc! liddol lady, going to give a longer about of her below

Lunchbox's sire is a character from Night Roads, a Nosferatu Elder known as Reremouse. The circumstances surrounding her embrace, and the event itself is something I'm intending to go into further detail in in another ask that's been sent! But yeah, Lunchbox was Embraced, she fled Reremouse before he could devour her, and through some combination of sheer luck, the intuition of a very scared and hurting child in the midst of becoming a nosferatu, and cooperation with the Beast, Lunchbox made it into LA, where she was found in the sewer system underneath the city by other Nosferatu. At first they'd thought she was a szlachta, but Lunchbox was eventually caught on camera and people realised that this was one of their own. At this point Lunchbox has been feeding off of animals she could get her hands on, rats, birds, lizards, snakes, dogs, cats, and the like. It's not like she gets any real joy or thrill out of it, just that she's hungry.

Filthy, terrified, and more Beast than person, she was slowly coaxed into the Warrens, the Nosferatu of LA leaving little toys and gifts by places they had seen the little Nosferatu running about. She gets her name from the little Digimon lunchbox she kept clutched in her hand on the journey over, it’s the only thing she was able to hold on to in her past life, and is empty. One of the other Nos suggested the name as a joke when they were struggling to communicate with her, but Lunchbox recognised the word, reacting to it, and it eventually stuck.

Lunchbox is 8th generation, and gained a very quick mastery of Obfuscate. She can't speak due to the traumatic nature of her embrace, as well as her Nosferatu appearance interfering with general word formation (huge teeth, no lips, weird windpipe, upper palate gone all weird, tongue much stubbier), and at the beginning communication is achieved mostly yes/no questions, drawings, and charades. Soon she'll be taught ASL, and her and Nines learn LSM, as Spanish is her first language and has to figure out English during her time in LA. Nines speaking the same/similar dialectical Spanish is one of the factors that makes her gravitate towards him, because he speaks like how her family did. (he’s also one of the few kindred in LA who still seems to retain the ability to speak to kids and Not be a freak)

Gary is the one who primarily takes care of Lunchbox in the Warrens, which typically entails keeping an eye on her, making sure she has somewhere to spend torpor (used to be a box in his closet she’d bundle up in for comfort, now she has her own room with most of her stuff in it), and making sure she’s not causing too much of a mess aboveground with the other Kindred. He’s not as physically affectionate towards her as Nines and others might be, Gary isn’t the most paternal person in the world, but he still grows to care for her in her own way, and I think Lunchbox recognises that Gary is her protector and carer.

Lunchbox likes skittering about the sewers and is usually only seen by others when she wants them to, she’s very apprehensive of strangers and it would take a long time for her to warm up to them after watching them for some weeks and gauging if they’re a threat to her or not - this process can be sped up if someone she trusts ie. Gary and Nines, introduces them to her. Lunchbox also has a habit of stealing assorted valuables (money, jewellery, keys, artefacts and the like), toys, and anything that is brightly coloured and/or shiny. She likes collecting small children’s toys, as well, and has recently acquired two domesticated rats as famuluses, named Funnelcake and Churro (Gary let her steal them from the Santa Monica PetSmart)(this is very much inspired by @/shrikehouse’s art of her here he is an amazing artist, pls go check him out). Before this, Lunchbox was ambivalent to rats, but now she doesn’t want to hurt any by feeding on them (might hurt her famuluses’ feelings). She’s content sneaking into the blood bank and swiping some bags behind Vandal’s back.

Lunchbox is a no gods no masters kind of beast and likes to harass everyone and anyone, but she’s also quite tolerated by those who have every right to retaliate, while most tend to like and/or adore the little creature, once they figure out she is genuinely just a kid (bearing all the horror that accompanies that reality). When Gary has had enough of her for the night/needs her to be watched and no one else is able to in the Warrens, he leaves her at the Last Round, where Nines tends to take care of her.

Damsel didn’t immediately fawn over Lunchbox when they first met so in Lunchbox’s mind that means they’re enemies (Damsel is not aware of this), Skelter entertains her by playing videogames with her on arcade machines or gameboy. Knox thinks she’s both very cool and very cute in a gnarly way, and Bertram thinks this whole situation with Gary accidentally becoming an adoptive vampire dad hilarious - kid’s okay in his eyes. The Voermans are slightly aware of her, and Vandal thinks the blood bank is haunted. Strauss doesn’t mind the way Lunchbox occasionally appears in the Chantry from time to time, so long as she doesn’t ruin his books and relics. Mercurio is creeped out by her and tries not to incite her trickery, to somem success - he also just Doesn’t know how to interact with her because she is both a child and a vampire and she’s technically higher ranking than him societal wise, but she also needs a booster seat. so.

Smiling jack thinks she’s a weird little kid, not much else to say; he might try and smuggle her fireworks if only to see what she’ll do with them. Ming Xiao has never encountered her, and Andrei has a kind of Cronenberg Tom and Jerry situation with her because she finds it funny to steal his meat relics (tm) and replace them with My Little Pony dolls when he’s not looking (tunnel between his house and the warrens works BOTH ways). She is also the bane of LaCroix’s existence. Fight the system, little one, and fight it well.

That’s what i can think of as a little Lunchbox Lore Experience for now! Thank you for the ask!

#ask #lunchbox vtm #nosferatu #vtm #vtmb #vampire the masquerade

[shiningstardan]

During the process of writing fanfictions, do you have a creative block or are you able to flow a story easily?

☆ A S K T I M E ! ! !

Well... Imma try to reply to the best of my abilities. But first context:

I have come just come out from a 5-year writing pause. I won't call it a block because 5 years ago I didn't have much interest in writing, I just wrote 5 fics but didn't think much of it and even dropped one of those.

So, what have I done now that is so different and has gotten my juices flowing?

I have established some rules

1. I will not write for others.

What does this mean? I will not write expecting kudos, bookmarks or reviews. So I don't place my writing motivation on feedback, some people get writers block because they don't feel appreciated. It's hurtful but you gotta remember that you also write because you love this character and the fandoms. I've always been kind of a lone wolf irl so, I gotta conduct the same mentality on online spaces.

2. I will find what I need out of the fics I'm writing and write that

I have been investing a lot of time thinking in Naruto for example. What do I need from this story that I never got?

Hyuga lore & politics

Konoha 13 interactions

Re-imagining of the time skipped between the OG series and Shippuden.

The fact that naruto talks friendship to everybody but he only cares about 1 friend, so I need him to interact with the other.

Knowing I need this I have started writing fics using prompts that may help my inspiration. Created character profiles to know who is friends with who besides what we are told in canon. Taken advantage of certain fandom patterns, there are some headcanons that have become universal.

For example: Somehow, somewhere a fan decided that in fanfic Hinata's grandfather is called either Hideo / Hideto and the rest of the fandom just rolled with it! which brings me to my next point~

3. I don't have to start from scratch.

If you feel that you are inspired by an image, headcanon, just roll with it. Don't feel pressure to come out with "original ideas" all the time, that's exhausting. I personally love when authors reference things, so maybe you said that a character likes the color red and you repeat that in a different way every fic you have, maybe through clothes, maybe through food, maybe through objects. A nod is always welcomed.

4. I can work on something else or abandon your idea

If you are stuck with an idea you can

Sleep on it and check it later

Outline it and move on. You can write 4 or 5 sentences about what you want to happen in that section and then you can come up with the details for the scene and write something else.

Not work on it anymore, maybe you can recycle what you wrote for another project (that's how I wrote Happy Valentine's Day, I didn't want to star from scratch so I reused the first portion from a discarded idea)

5. Length doesn't define you

I'm currently writing a 20k+ fic. This is my first time writing this much and it's scary AF. I thought it would be a 2k max, because I don't have a really good imagination. In the past I have mainly written works under 1k and even a 40 part drabble pieces (if you know the technical definition drabbles are 100 words exactly). So up until now I had just written relatively short works.

Challenge yourself to write short, write a haiku, a drabble, some flash fiction (250 w) or something under 500. Just a page.

Any writing is good writing.

6. Workshop it

Talk about your story and the ideas you want to explore with a friend (that includes me now, just so you know. Whether it is an annonymous ask or a direct message, my ask box will always be open for fanfic questions, even if it's a different fandom or ship I personally don't gravitate to).

7. Educate Yourself

This last few months I have discovered that english and spanish are formatted totally different in terms of punctuation.

I have also wanted to learn more about creative writing so I watch some Lectures

That being said I think I write slowly, but enjoy it nonetheless.

#answered asks

[heart-forge]

Less of an ask here, more of a statement!

The first time I'd ever heard of poutine was when playing Bad Ritual for the first time a few years ago. I looked it up and it sounded absolutely amazing. Flash forward to the state fair (not even in a northern state, we're talking Carolinas baby!) back in October, and to my surprise, they actually had some at the beef stalls! And it was so fucking good! I keep wanting craving poutine now, and every time I do I think of Bad Ritual :)

I think it's SO WILD that America hasn't en masse adopted it. Cheese curds and gravy on fries? Like? Lord! And listen people bully online chefs for not making them correctly and they're valid because famous Americans barely consider Canada a country let alone somewhere distinct from them, but while I will be annoyed every time an American chef is like "well I couldn't find cheese curds so I'm just using Kraft singles" or something stupid (mostly because these are the same people sourcing rattlesnake meat and a rare flower that only blooms on a certain road in China at night when it rains during a full moon, but yeah, cheese curds are too hard 🙄🙄🙄), technically there's no wrong way to do it. It's ubiquitous here but like in high school my cafeteria would give us shredded mozz and dark gravy on fries and that's like, close enough given their budget and time crunch.

Plus you can put stuff on it !! We have an entire restaurant dedicated to putting stuff on it (which listen is it gross? yes. did I help my college friend steal a two pound poutine from them? also yes) so I also hate when the online chefs act like "ik you'll hate me if I put something on it" like girl I was in Quebec getting MSM poutines like it's not that deep.

Anyway I have a lot of feelings about poutine and Canadian food in general. I used to follow so many internet chefs and then had to slowly weed them out, frequently for a variety of reasons but also I don't think it's a coincidence that at this point the only proper food channel that I follow is Sorted, which listen, they're British so it's not more diverse, but they're just not as snobby. I'm glad you think of BR when you infrequently get poutine 😂😂 and glad that I didn't think twice about what kind of food the agent was getting after all was said.

#talkForge #I don't take special pains to localize or make vague my locations #but also I do have that whole essay and how it annoys me that AAA gaming will jump through hoops to set something in America #especially when they're not themselves American #but also especially when they are HEY FALLOUT YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT MY COUNTRY GOT ANNEXED BY YOURS #AND THEN SEND ME TO BOSTON? #IDEK WHERE THREE IS IT'S IN ONE OF THE DCs OR WASHINGTONS OR WHATEVER #but see new vegas is an example of a thoughtfully set game yk it can be done

[teegeeteegee]

WIP Wednesday

This is something new I'm trying. Every Wednesday, I plan to post a WIP of a fic I'm working on. From there, I'll decide if I'll upload it to AO3 or not. If I do, I'll post a link to the story in the future.

With that said, here is the first one. It's an as of now untitled Luaisy Christmas fic with some Mareach sprinkled in. It's a first-person one based on Luigi's POV.

A small snowflake slowly landed harmlessly on my nose as I focused on the horizon before me. It started snowing a few minutes ago after I stepped out on one of the many balconies outside of Princess Peach’s castle. The princess was hosting her annual Christmas party: a tradition that began five years ago after Mario and I introduced the holiday to the Mushroom Kingdom.

It started when she visited Mario and I out of the blue when we were in the middle of exchanging gifts. Witnessing that and the tree and decorations, she was curious to know what was going on. We explained to her we were celebrating Christmas, which is a holiday that comes from our world. We also explained why it’s celebrated and what we do during it. Upon hearing our explanation, her eyes lit up like Christmas lights, and she wanted Christmas to become an official holiday in the Mushroom Kingdom. The first thing she did was decide to throw a party at the castle the following week and invite everyone from around the kingdom to attend. The party was a booming success and thus, an annual Christmas party tradition was born.

The party was still going on downstairs, and everything seemed to go without a hitch when I stepped away. Last year, Bowser crashed the party and threatened not to leave unless he received a Christmas kiss from the princess underneath some mistletoe. Thanks to some quick thinking from her, however, it resulted in one of the most memorable Christmas moments in my life. Long story short, the princess agreed to his demand and got Bowser’s hopes up, only for her to sneak away and have Birdo kiss him instead. Bowser completely freaked out and hightailed it out of the castle with Birdo hot on his tail while seductively puckering her lips. It was reminiscent of when Bowser tried to get a kiss from the princess after winning (i.e., cheating) a tennis tournament a few years back. Fortunately, there haven’t been any signs of him, and I sincerely hoped it stayed that way.

Leaning on the balcony rail, a relieved sigh escaped from my lips as I welcomed the quiet solitude. I have never been much of a party person, especially ones with huge gatherings. Nonetheless, I have attended every single one the princess hosted, and this year’s Christmas bash was no different. Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m not antisocial or anything like that. Despite my shy and introverted nature, I can mingle with other people when the situation calls for it. In addition, the Toads, Toadsworth, and the princess are really nice to talk to. It’s just that I can only do it for so long before I become emotionally drained and need to both physically and mentally retreat to somewhere less noisy and recharge. Needless to say, I am currently at that point. The plan is to be alone for a little while then return to the festivities before Mario started searching for me.

My arms folded over my chest as a harsh wind assailed me while flying by. It made me regret not grabbing my suit jacket before coming outside, but it can’t be helped now. I chuckle to myself before continuing to brave the wind chill. I was deep in my thoughts when a pair of gloved hands covered my eyes.

“Guess who?” a husky yet familiar voice breathed into my ear.

My heart skipped a beat at the voice because I knew exactly who it was. However, I tried to play it cool externally and decided to have some fun.

“Mario, you really need more practice with your female voice impersonations,” I said with a cheeky smile.

“Very funny, you jerk!” the person laughed as the hands released their grip from my eyes, followed by one of them playfully slapping the back of my shoulder.

I turned around and found myself entranced by the beaming smile on the beautiful face of Princess Daisy. Upon recovering, a wide smile formed on my face; her smile is so contagious that people can’t help but smile in return. I was perhaps the most vulnerable to it. She enveloped me with a snug hug with her cheek resting against mine, causing me to stiffen and my own cheeks to heat up before returning said hug. I took in her heavenly floral scent while our bodies were together. She really gives the best hugs, at least the ones that don’t cause my ribs to pierce my vital organs.

“Nice to see you again, Luigi,” she said after releasing the hug. She then dusted some invisible lint from my shoulder. “You look great.”

“Thanks. So do you,” I said.

That wasn’t me complimenting her just to be nice; she really did look great. Actually, great doesn’t do her justice; she looked outright stunning. Then again, I always think she’s beautiful, but that’s just my pathetic lovesick self speaking. Anyway, she was wearing a sleeveless tangerine floor length gown with an orange scarf-like thing covering her shoulders similar to what the princess wears in the winter, a gold choker with her signature flower jewel in the middle, her flower earrings that had gold pedals instead of the usual white, and a gold tiara atop her auburn hair. Speaking of such, her bangs were wrapped around her head in braids, and the back appeared to be in a mini bun from what I could tell. I’ve never seen her wear her hair like this before, and I have to admit it looks great.

“So, you were able to attend this year’s party?” I asked.

“Yep,” she nodded happily. “My parents told me I could come here if I wanted this year.”

Daisy learned about Christmas the year after the princess did due to visiting the Mushroom Kingdom around that time. She enjoyed everything about it and took all she knew home with her. She told her parents about Christmas, and fortunately they were intrigued by the holiday that they decided it would be celebrated in Sarasaland as well. Because of that, however, she had to stay home and couldn’t attend any more parties in the Mushroom Kingdom until this year. I, for one, was ecstatic to see her here.

“Did you see the princess and Mario?” I asked.

“Sure did,” Daisy answered, “but you’re the one I looked forward to seeing the most; however, you were nowhere to be found. I figured you were somewhere alone to have some quiet time to yourself. Fortunately, a Toad maid spotted you and let me know where you were!”

“Lucky me,” I said jokingly.

“Aw, don’t be like that!” Daisy joked while giving me a mocked pleading look. “You know I have to see my favorite person in green.” She shivered from the latest wind chill that swept by. “Aren’t you cold out here?”

“Kind of,” I answered truthfully. I forgot my suit jacket; however, I was so caught up in my thoughts that the weather didn’t bother me much until now.

Daisy wrapped an elbow around mine and laid her head against mine. My face became warmer due to the intimacy, and my nostrils inhaled more of her sweet scent. “Say, why don’t we go inside. It’s much warmer and besides, there’s something I want to give you.”

My curiosity had now peaked. “Oh, what would that be?” I inquired, clearly interested and perhaps a little too eager.

“Hehe, it’s a secret,” she cheekily placed an index finger over her beautiful orange lips, much to my disappointment. “So, are you coming or not?”

“It looks like I don’t have a choice, do I?” I sighed.

She flashed a victorious smile in my direction as she tugged my arm. “Oh Weegee, don’t be like that. I promise it will be worth your while. Now, let’s head inside before I turn into a human ice sculpture!”

“OK, OK, no need to rush!” I laughed as she dragged me towards the French doors that led back into the castle.

“Oh, sorry about that,” she chuckled as she slowed down but kept her elbow around mine. We entered the castle to escape from the rapidly falling temperature. As I closed the door behind me, I noticed that the snow was falling at a faster rate. I chuckled to myself, which received a raised eyebrow and curious smile from Daisy, as we continued down the hall.

“Before we continue, we need to stop by my room first,” Daisy told me. “I have to grab something.”

“OK,” I replied.

When we reached her room, I stood to the side as she was about to enter. However, she paused and gave me a look I couldn’t read before grabbing my hand and nearly ripped my shoulder out of its socket as she dragged me in, followed by her shutting the door quickly afterwards.

“Uh, what’s going on, Daisy?” I asked, confused as to why she pulled me into her room.

“Luigi,” she started as her beautiful blue eyes gazed into mine, “before we continue further, I need to ask you something.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Huh?” That admittedly caught me off guard. Why would she ask me that? Now I’m even more curious and a little apprehensive at what she had in mind. I hoped she wasn’t planning a prank on me because she has done so plenty of times before. However, none of them were malicious in nature, and she made up for them when they went too far. Also, the look on her face appeared to be serious enough, which eased my fears some. When it comes down to it, I knew I wouldn’t learn anything just standing here and thinking about it.

“Of course, I do,” I replied, hoping it sounded confident.

“Good,” she smiled. “Now I need you to do a favor. Could you please shut your eyes for me?”

My eyebrows raised at the request, but I said I trusted her, so there was no going back on my word. I nodded and squeezed my eyes shut. My interest was at an all-time high as I contemplated what Daisy had planned. A part of me wondered if she were to change clothes and asked for my opinion. However, she could’ve had me wait outside and invite me in after changing or do so in the bathroom. Wait, what if she wanted…

'No!' I emphatically scolded myself. Get your mind out of the gutter, Luigi. I felt ashamed for even thinking such a thing as my cheeks warmed in embarrassment. Now I was hoping she’d do what she needed to so those thoughts don’t come back.

The next thing I knew, I felt something being tied around my eyes. My eyes opened in surprise, but I could see nothing but darkness in front of me.

“Um, Daisy,” I began, “what’s going on?”

“Didn’t you say you trust me?” she asked in playful yet dulcet tone.

“I did say that,” I answered with a defeated tone but couldn’t help but grin.

“This will be worth it, believe me.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards what I assumed was the door to the hall, seeing that my vision was compromised. The next thing I knew, she was leading me somewhere because I did my best to keep up with her. She said everything would be worth it; I hoped that would be true.

#wip wednesday #another tee idea that will hopefully get off the ground #luigi #princess daisy #luiasy #luaisy fic wip

[ducktales-reboot-fanzine]

The Inventor and The Orphan

Word count:1,195

Gyro looked at the invitation from the House of Little Miracles, an orphanage operating since the 50s. It was written in a beautiful script with flowing letters, reading 'Come and give a child a home today'.

He still didn’t get why would an orphanage would give out invitations like this but that’s an answer only the founder and owner knows.

The inventor sighed and shook his head. This wasn’t a place he wanted to go, but it was an orphanage with abundant children and an open offer. There were a lot of orphans here, some of who needed homes. The ones who weren't orphaned were either foster children or abandoned children.

Gyro didn't want to go and look at the kids, but he also didn't have any other options. He couldn't just leave these kids there without anything, could he? It's not like they had parents who would come looking for them.

Gyro sighed again before pocketing the invitation and heading toward the address of the orphanage.

When he first came in, he looked around the orphanage for a bit. The younger children were outside, playing tag with each other while the older children played board games under umbrellas. Most of the younger kids went to the playground area to play soccer. The older ones were inside reading or something like that. The writer of this fanzine can’t know everything you know.

An employee of the orphanage noticed the inventor, "Oh hey, you must be here for the interview."

The inventor nodded.

"Great! Allow me to take you for the children's interview!" Gyro followed the employee into the office where several people were waiting.

Once Gyro entered the room, he regretted ever accepting their invitation. Each orphan he met was either crying or screaming hysterically about one thing or another.

One wouldn't stop talking about how she didn't get enough attention, another was complaining about their chores, and even an older orphan pranked him by using a bucket of water to splash him before running off.

Gyro couldn't understand how the employees dealt with these children every day. The inventor was this close to leaving the orphanage entirely until he spotted an orphan, opening the door.

"Uh, excuse me, I'm not too late am I?..." the girl asked timidly.

Gyro didn't want to deal with another orphan after dealing with the last one, yet he felt bad for her. She sounded so nice. The inventor gave her a gentle smile, "Not at all. In fact, you're early."

The orphan sat down on the chair across from Gyro and started fidgeting. The inventor knew the orphan didn't talk much since she seemed to avoid eye contact. "So... What's your name?", Gyro asked first.

"Glendy," came the quiet reply, still avoiding eye contact.

"Nice to meet you Glendy. I'm Gyro Gearloose. I'm an inventor. Can you tell me about yourself?"

It took a moment, but then the girl began speaking. "I don't think I have any memories of my parents before they abandoned me... But the caretakers told me they found me during a rainstorm when I was a baby. They brought me here because I wasn't safe anywhere else and they were afraid I'd freeze if they left me somewhere cold... That's why I don't get too cold sometimes..."

Her voice grew quieter as she explained more about herself to the inventor. "But I've been here for almost 14 years now. The caretakers say I'm the most difficult child they had ever since they brought me in."

Gyro was concerned by this comment from Glendy, "W-what do you mean?"

"Well... They didn't really like how I didn't listen to them, how I don't look anyone in the eyes, sometimes I would cry when they yelled at me harshly whenever I did something wrong, and I hate hearing so many loud and sometimes annoying noises and it hurts-"

"Uh, Glendy... Could I ask you something?", Gyro interjected gently.

"Sure, sure", Glendy replied distractedly, trying very hard to avoid eye contact with the inventor.

"Do you have... Autism?" Gyro said slowly, unsure if he heard her correctly.

"Yup, that's what they call it.", the orphan started to look up at the inventor, "The first time I heard about it was when the doctor came over to the orphanage one day and when he came back with some results..."

Glendy trailed off, unable to finish her statement. Gyro was starting to feel concerned for her.

"Well?"

"The caretakers got a little mad at me and asked if my autism is the reason why I was stupid or whatever they called me. But the one thing I didn't get was when they called r****ded-"

"THEY WHAT?!", Gyro nearly screamed at the top of his lungs.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. How long had this gone on!? How dare those people to treat a child like this? For an orphanage known for its kindness and care for its children, they weren't so kind or caring for someone with autism.

It’s bad enough they believed all signs of autism were just misbehavior but calling a child… That word crosses the line. He was this close to beating the life out of them but when he saw the orphan, fearing of his temper, he quickly calmed down.

"I-I don't think you should say that term... At all..." Gyro muttered.

"Huh? Why?"

"Well, it's not a pleasant word to say to people who… Are different.", the inventor answered carefully, still angry at the fact that a caretaker would say something like that to an orphan who can't control their condition. It hurt him to hear an autistic orphan repeat a word from one of the caretakers.

"Oh... I'm sorry...", Glendy apologized, "I didn't know it was that bad..."

"No, it's alright. It wasn't your fault you're born this way," the inventor responded, "People like these caretakers shouldn't get away with treating people like this."

"Yeah, you're right... I'm still sorry about wasting your time with the caretakers here... I wasn't even sure if I'll still be here until I'm 18 or something."

"I tell you what, why don't we leave this place? They shouldn't treat you like this..."

"... We?", asked Glendy, confused by what the inventor meant by that.

"Yes. I'm adopting you.", Gyro smiled.

"R... Really!?", Glendy never expected this to happen. Her whole life she wasn't even allowed to go to meet the adults who wanted to adopt someone due to her condition, but today was what she was hoping for... A home.

Gyro stood up, "Of course. I'm not going to let you stay here any longer. Besides, you deserve so much better than this."

Tears brimmed in Glendy's eyes. She felt so happy that someone finally adopted her and didn't care if she was special or not. Gyro loves her no matter what.

The inventor walked out of the interview room, taking his newly adopted daughter with him. He couldn't help but think about what his life with Glendy would be like.

Though Gyro has a lot to learn about being a parent, he would do anything to protect her and give her the love she deserved.

Written by @doctorquacks87

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #ducktales oc #ducktales fanfiction #ducktales fandom #gyro gearloose