#hopefully it comes back soon bc the new chapter is SO FUCKING GOOD

[mitsies]

AO3 IS DOWN I CAN'T READ THE LATEST INTRINSIC WARMTH CHAPTER AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

hold up. WHAT DO YOU MEAN AO3 IS DOWN…… ARE U KIDDING ME. ARE. U KIDDING. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 my life is over forever I will never recover ao3 come back I MISS YOU

[baekhvuns]

Imagine being worth 60mln at the age of 16, wtf but hopefully he plays well. Zidane hair era??? For a second I thought it'd be Kaka and that Kaka look alike not his actual son akdhajhsjsgajahaj

Messi acts like Neymar's father what is Neymar gonna do once Messi retires, Neymar retirement era as well? Skshsbahjshababsjshaha

WHO IS THE SPANISH PLAYER PARK SEONGHWA

I've always had this issue with The Blues, I saw them in match a few times and it was during the seasons when they were mostly defending not attacking and it's not like they always played better teams so it was confusing. Well anyways LONDON IS RED so 🤗 Ronaldo at Bayern wow and Man City, Man Utd fans would be thrilled lmao

Tbh I know it's not always easy to check everyone before hiring them, like all the idols who were mean to people at some point, a lot of the situations were kept in secret. Prison League 💀

I spent some time "studying" the royals, so I have a lot of strong opinions about them, maybe that's why. I obviously don't know them personally, but some things are obvious. Hahaha do you think some of the watch The Crown and actually like it? 👀

GOT at Coachella? Hmmm choices, but that would be funny. Shinee at Coachella tho! Or maybe not there since it's trash. Godddd I hate Paris now because they're getting MuBank in April with Skz and then Lolla with Skz as well??? Fuck them Frenchies, after witnessing their behaviour at Fashion Week this year and last year they don't deserve shit 😤 good for Skz, very proud but also 🔫

Unhinged mid/late 2000s tv shows was such an era. And now they released Teen Wolf the movie IT'S SO BAD. Oh I haven't really watched Wizards of Weverly Place, I saw a few episodes but I don't think I was the target audience when it came out. I'm not really a Disney Channel person, except for Zack and Cody and maybe Hannah Montana

Yeah, Baek not to threaten you, but I might send my army of snakes after you if you keep teasing me 😘 uhm a G wagon to pick up girls???

I started the murderous husband webtoon on a different page that has more chapters, cause I had to see what was going on! It's interesting, but idk how to feel about that relationship, we'll see

The NASCAR cartoon was called NASCAR RACERS idk why I watched it

Soohyuk is clearly dating Hoshi lol also don't forget about our wedding soon!

Everything I've learnt about Coleen Hoover was against my will and now Blake, et tu Brute...

Hold on Baeksy, consider this... the question is, why are they enemies, or is it a one sided hatred? How and why did person 1 fall for person 2? So many possibilities!!!

Me for the past few days: ik Hwa has black hair, I need to accept it. Hwa: *shows up with black hair*. Me: WTF IS THIS 😭😭😭😭

EH, ot8 black hair lovers are winning... but oh well. Now if Seonghwa cuts his hair (99% sure he trimmed it already :/) and gets an under cut I'm gonna have a bigger problem. MILF SEONGHWA COME BACK PLS, L O N G HAIR PLS!!!!!

This idc for my kpop men looking like regular people 😫 they have black hair every 10 minutes what's there to miss. The only way to win me over with black hair is when the hair is loooooong long. And I literally had a dream about him in this colour, I know he had it for a while, but it's time to bring it back me thinks

I need more selcas. Also a missed opportunity to dye it a different colour, but I understand his scalp was damaged :( Seonghwa gives so much, but then he has to take it away...

AND MINGI 🤧🤧🤧🤧

Not him being 👉👈 about the cat beanie photos, best believe once the photos drop I'm gonna eat all my walls!!!

God Pique is so embarrassing what a clown. SO PRETTY YOUR DAUGHTER JSJSHSBANSHAHAH no bc if she was 3 years younger it'd make her 15 years younger and I know some people become parents at the age if 15, so imagine him as her father.... yikes

Oh yes they're right

Also not me not recognising Ateez at Eden's wedding, I especially couldn't recognise Hwa IT'S THE FUCKING HAIR IT'S NOT CLICKING FOR ME. Maddox is my new bias, because his hair aaaaaa. But Seonghwa talking about crying at the wedding, that's my boomer baby boy - DV 💖

hello!!!

Imagine being worth 60mln at the age of 16, wtf but hopefully he plays well. Zidane hair era??? For a second I thought it'd be Kaka and that Kaka look alike not his actual son akdhajhsjsgajahaj

YEAH AT THE AGE OF 16??? i was worrying about my exams and this bro out here earning millions 😭😭 he does, plays super well! his story is quite sad but his motivation is mental, he’s mbappe fast, maybe even faster and he’s only 16! hopefully he does not get injured!! LMFAOOOO FOR A MOMENT I WAS EXPECTING KAKA LOOKALIKE AND WAS SURPRISED IT WAS HIS ACTUAL ONE, his looks still >> zidane hair might not grow! he’s got 4 teams, rm, psg, juventus & bayern wanting him now 😭😭

Messi acts like Neymar's father what is Neymar gonna do once Messi retires, Neymar retirement era as well? Skshsbahjshababsjshaha

he really does, thiago messi who? it’s neymar messi actually 🤚🏻I THINK HE WOULD ACTUALLY he’s been wanting to bc njr said he can’t handle the media pressure anymore 😭😭 hopefully he retires w the wc trophy 😭😭

WHO IS THE SPANISH PLAYER PARK SEONGHWA

SINCE HE SAID THAT I HAVE TWO HYPOTHESES, 1 IF THAT SPANISH PLAYER PLAYS IN THE NATIONAL TEAM THEN ITS FERNANDO TORRES OR PEDRO 🤚🏻 I THINK ITS TORRES

I've always had this issue with The Blues, I saw them in match a few times and it was during the seasons when they were mostly defending not attacking and it's not like they always played better teams so it was confusing. Well anyways LONDON IS RED so 🤗 Ronaldo at Bayern wow and Man City, Man Utd fans would be thrilled lmao

yEAAAHHH the players are underperforming also the tensions w the coach and the head,,, spending MILLIONS in transfer windows atp they’re collecting players like pokémon but those players are not doING SHIT!!!! tuchel should have never left, mourinho is the only hope but i doubt he might come back,,, MAN CITYS CATCHING UP ALVAREZ IS COMING FOR UR REDS 😭😭😭 atp i think cristiano would like to go the man utd too but at least it’s said he’s gonna retire at rm 😭😭

Tbh I know it's not always easy to check everyone before hiring them, like all the idols who were mean to people at some point, a lot of the situations were kept in secret. Prison League 💀

yeah! it’s not easy but at least the bare minimum works 😭😭😭 sometimes a pretty face can get those idols anywhere, to the point of hiding insane stuff,, PRISON LEAGUE FBWKDBWM it’s not world cup, it’s prison wars <3

I spent some time "studying" the royals, so I have a lot of strong opinions about them, maybe that's why. I obviously don't know them personally, but some things are obvious. Hahaha do you think some of the watch The Crown and actually like it? 👀

OOOOOOOO with ur info, who do u think is the better one out of them all? who’s the worst? and who’s ok? i do like philip’s humor he seems like the funny, blunt type of person fbfb i think harry confirmed they see the crown 💀 charles also said he doesn’t mind it but thinks ppl might take the fictional part not seriously and think it’s real dbdb i know edward and sophie love it and made the queen watch it for funsies but she thought some parts were dramatized, i guess we can say they have some sort of humour fbfbf i bet no one watched the diana season 🧍🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️

GOT at Coachella? Hmmm choices, but that would be funny. Shinee at Coachella tho! Or maybe not there since it's trash. Godddd I hate Paris now because they're getting MuBank in April with Skz and then Lolla with Skz as well??? Fuck them Frenchies, after witnessing their behaviour at Fashion Week this year and last year they don't deserve shit 😤 good for Skz, very proud but also 🔫 //// Unhinged mid/late 2000s tv shows was such an era. And now they released Teen Wolf the movie IT'S SO BAD. Oh I haven't really watched Wizards of Weverly Place, I saw a few episodes but I don't think I was the target audience when it came out. I'm not really a Disney Channel person, except for Zack and Cody and maybe Hannah Montana

yEAAHH GOT AT COACHELLA would be quite polarizing no? the songs would 😵‍💫😵‍💫the audience might find it pretty interesting to listen to all of that,,, SHINEE AT COACHELLA WOULD BE PERFECT, BRUNG OUT VIEW AND TELL ME WHAT TO DO AND ALL THE DANCE POP 😭😭 sm would never, they never sent exo when they were invited, im convinced they’ll never send their bg’s,,, NAURRR WILL U BE GOING?? yeah no the behaviour at the pfw was 😬 maybe lfw would be better

WHAT A GREAT ERA!!!! want the cliche romcom’s w THAT cringe factor back but ppl are so judge about everything they won’t be pleased w nothing 🔫🔫 THEY RELEASED WHAT???? ANON GUESS WHATS BEINF RELEASED FBWMFJWK MY MAIN THOUGHT WAS OH DYLANS GONNA HATE THIS 🧍🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️wowp was >>> ZACK AND CODY OH MY GOD AND HANNAH MONTANA 😭😭 i have her dolls with the click button on her tummy that when it clicks it sings party in the usa 😭😭 and miss anne? mother.

Yeah, Baek not to threaten you, but I might send my army of snakes after you if you keep teasing me 😘 uhm a G wagon to pick up girls???

yup! they tend to purchase gwagons but always go with girlies who are identical to every other nhl player ☺️ they’re all also slightly racist tho im not surprised on that fbdjck

I started the murderous husband webtoon on a different page that has more chapters, cause I had to see what was going on! It's interesting, but idk how to feel about that relationship, we'll see

IT REALLY IS INTERESTING and the dude makes it even better 🥰 have u read the perfect marriage revenge? it’s actually really good ive read most of it tho i stopped,, it’s very <33 pisses me off a little bc the fucking sister is 🔫

The NASCAR cartoon was called NASCAR RACERS idk why I watched it

wait hello, those are some fine men,, gives me totally spies but w guys vibes!

Soohyuk is clearly dating Hoshi lol also don't forget about our wedding soon! //// Everything I've learnt about Coleen Hoover was against my will and now Blake, et tu Brute...

CLEARLY HE’S DATING ME! I WAS IN THE CAR W HIM https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn7dfkLyMK6/?igshid=Zjc2ZTc4Nzk= he’s so dilf. he’s like perfect, really,, omg,,, HEY HEY IM SORRY I GOTTA STEAL UR GROOM THIS WEDDING CANT HAPPEN 🤚🏻 no srs i wish she backs out of the movie 😭😭😭

Hold on Baeksy, consider this... the question is, why are they enemies, or is it a one sided hatred? How and why did person 1 fall for person 2? So many possibilities!!! //// Me for the past few days: ik Hwa has black hair, I need to accept it. Hwa: *shows up with black hair*. Me: WTF IS THIS 😭😭😭😭 /// EH, ot8 black hair lovers are winning... but oh well. Now if Seonghwa cuts his hair (99% sure he trimmed it already :/) and gets an under cut I'm gonna have a bigger problem. MILF SEONGHWA COME BACK PLS, L O N G HAIR PLS!!!!!

i….omg,,,, the ANGST???? they HAVE to be enemies bc the main character was already with someone and the enemy’s heart broke seeing them all wholesome wHEN ALL THIS TIME HE’S BEEN IN LOVE WITH MC 😭😭 do u think the enemy would accept the heart if the mc brought it back to them,, HE HAS BLACK HAIR AND EVERYONE ELSE IN ATEEZ 😭😭😭😭😭😭 MINGI BROWN AT LEAST

HES SO CUTE HIS HATS BIGGER THAN HIS HEAD 😭😭 THE HAIR IS STILL LONG

This idc for my kpop men looking like regular people 😫 they have black hair every 10 minutes what's there to miss. The only way to win me over with black hair is when the hair is loooooong long. And I literally had a dream about him in this colour, I know he had it for a while, but it's time to bring it back me thinks /// I need more selcas. Also a missed opportunity to dye it a different colour, but I understand his scalp was damaged :( Seonghwa gives so much, but then he has to take it away... :// AND MINGI 🤧🤧🤧🤧

no srs 😭😭 let them look like gods for a minute they’ll go back to black anyway 😭😭 i’ve have seen

idol: *changes hair colour*

fan : *im so upset i liked him in black hair*

also, fan : *DYE YOUR HAIR COME ON1!1!1*

STOP BC THAT HAIR !!!!! THAT !!! HAIR WAS BEST BEST THING TO HAPPEN TO HIM !!!!! ur right, seonghwa ALWAYS gives, ALWAYS.

Not him being 👉👈 about the cat beanie photos, best believe once the photos drop I'm gonna eat all my walls!!! ///// God Pique is so embarrassing what a clown. SO PRETTY YOUR DAUGHTER JSJSHSBANSHAHAH no bc if she was 3 years younger it'd make her 15 years younger and I know some people become parents at the age if 15, so imagine him as her father.... yikes /// Oh yes they're right

im actually going to scream when these photos come out,,, 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

RIGHT THE FUCKING COMMENT HAD ME CRYING ITS SO FUNNY TO SCROLL THRU THEM 😭😭 VIOLATION,,,, omg stop that’s awkward as fuck,, when i first saw the photo i thought it was his sibling 💀💀 bro can’t take care of his kids this new edition would just make it worse,,, they are 100% right, do u rnr that one matz clip where he was manspreading and hongjoong walking to him, need that repeated but in this outfit 💃.

Also not me not recognising Ateez at Eden's wedding, I especially couldn't recognise Hwa IT'S THE FUCKING HAIR IT'S NOT CLICKING FOR ME. Maddox is my new bias, because his hair aaaaaa. But Seonghwa talking about crying at the wedding, that's my boomer baby boy - DV 💖

FBWKFBWJJDKWHDWK ITS THE HAIR THWKFHEK THEY ALL LOOK LIKE THEY WERE AT SOME CONFERENCE 😭😭 gave me ceo ateez era im saying, maddox >>> ateez actually 🤚🏻 he always has the best hair,,, ANON U KNOW HE WOULD CRY AT HIS WEDDING TOO LIKE THOSE VIDEOS WHERE THE GROOM CRIES SEEING THE BRIDE WALK DOWN FBWKFJWK NAURRRR WHEN IS IT MY TURN !!!!!!! WHEN !!!!!!! …hyuna and dawn back together?

…..

???? 😭😭 about the txt cb??

[elysianslove]

Hi! Can you do roommates au for kuroo, oikawa, iwachan and atsumu?

hi!! thank you for requesting i hope you like these!!

kuroo tetsurō

kuroo as a roommate is both the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to you

for one, you always have a tutor in case you need help 

and he’s really good at keeping you in check

will always make sure u eat, sleep well, manage your time

stuff like that

but

BUT 

he’s so messy pls

like every room might as well be kuroo’s room because his stuff is always everywhere 

this is only a good thing when his shirt/hoodies end up in your domain 

bc this guy’s like 6’1? 6’2? doesn’t matter who you are his clothes are comfy whether they fit right or dwarf you 

does not know how to clean

at all

like how difficult can cleaning be??? idk ask kuroo

he’s really good at picking up new habits though so he’s your designated cook

cleaning is on you, cooking is on him

i hope that’s okay w u bc otherwise u will not survive 😃

he’s so big on cuddling 

he’ll ask you to sleep in the same bed constant nights 

at first it’s so ??? weird??? 

like why would u??? 

but then u find that it’s actually kinda nice

it’s a great way to destress bc as soon as ur cuddling ur mind just turns off 

@ the tutor thing 

he’s a really good teacher 

but his notes?

get ur own <3 

literally no one but kuroo can understand them so good luck g 

anyways overall he’s a great roommate good job on scoring this hunk of a man 😻

oikawa tōru

first few months, he completely avoids you

weird i know i know

but oikawa is not someone that just opens up to anyone yk? he’s very selective. it takes a while for him to trust you

but you live in the same house so it’s inevitable 

it’s not that he avoided you per se but he kept your interactions to a minimum 

which had been fine by you! he was respectful of your privacy, did his part to maintain the house while you did yours, etc 

it’s when he starts getting comfortable that’s the problem 

i think it would happen spontaneously and you two would stay up s o late together out of nowhere and suddenly you’d know each other’s deepest darkest secrets 

believes in those roommate bonding activities 

friday nights are reserved for the two of you, and that’s a set rule. only extreme cases have priority over it

can’t cook and can’t clean

but he’s so good at lifting up his legs while you vacuum <3 

literally if you leave for the weekend you come back to an unrecognizable home 

the amount of shit he’s broken bc of volleyball like literally go play anywhere else 

overall he’s a great roommate because he’s both respectful of your boundaries and genuinely really fun to have around 

(so fucking annoying though sometimes you just wanna suffocate him in his sleep hehe)

iwaizumi hajime

best roommate hands down he’s the perfect candidate oh my god 

he will cook

and he will clean

he’ll be respectful 

he’ll help you with your work 

only issue is he’s a bit standoffish you’ll think he hates you for the longest time

until you just straight up ask him “do you hate me?” 

and he’ll be genuinely so shocked like “no! what? why would i live with you if i hated you? what?” 

god he’s so precious 

i see iwa as someone that likes routine 

so it’d be great if you can adapt to that/adapt to his routine specifically 

you two split the work evenly so well

like if he takes care of breakfast (cooks or it buys it), dinner is on you

spring cleaning is actually so fun with hajime because he actually puts in as much effort as you

but also 

you’re blasting some music on the speakers and using the broom as a mic that he can’t help but let loose tbh 

he learns your quips so well overtime it’s amazing he just 

he just knows you so well is he psychic or some shit???

will never force you to like do any bonding activities but i see you two just playing a shit ton of boardgames together, things like monopoly

loser gets extra chores hehe 

god i want roommate iwa in my life so bad

a really good roommate because of the fact that he’s super mature and a really thoughtful person in general

miya atsumu

worst one 

he’s the WORST

like oikawa can’t cook or clean, but he has some redeeming qualities. atsumu?? none ! 

im kidding y’all he’s the cutest i would die to have him as my roommate

he’s so 

energetic? 

your first night as roommates he just waltzes into your room and drags you out to the living room where the tv is already set up, two large pizzas and so many wedges have been ordered, and drinks <3 

spends the entire time getting to know you

he learns to live with you really easily tbh like he adapts so quick

he’s so used to sharing bc he’s a twin, so nothing ever properly bothers him 

he can’t cook, but he does watch you and tries to learn from you

he’ll do very basic things like you can leave breakfast safely to him

after minimum 2 months of practice 

he likes to be very involved and likes to involve you just as much 

he’s not nosy he’s just curious leave him be 🥺

there is always one day a month where it’s just the two of you going out 

to like a carnival 

amusement park

ice skating 

all that stuff. it’s necessary 

i need to clarify that 3 am drives to get mcdonalds take out is a very regular thing with atsumu 

driving up a hill and sitting on the hood of your car while you get some nuggets and stare at the city skyline beneath you

immaculate vibes 

a really fun roommate tbh no regrets with this one you will never feel like shit and even if you do

what are the 3 am drives for amiright 😻

end note; i hope that was good, and that the requester and everyone else enjoyed that!! like always, requests are open <333

thank you to everyone that’s voted about the smau thing! i’ll wait a little while longer before deciding who won, and hopefully, i’ll have the first few chapters up soon!! mwah <3

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Jane Foster’s child

Jane Foster x child!reader

Thor Odinson x Foster!child!reader

warnings:

a/n: no not a foster child, jane foster’s child 😌 also im so super glad you liked those!!! hope these are just as good!!! and im genuinely so sorry these took so long

prompt: anonymous: “Hey! I just read the Tony Stark x Potts!child!reader HC and I loved it! Would you do the same but with Thor and Jane? ❤️”

no babysitter = go to work with mom

dr. selvig gave you a rubik’s cube to keep you entertained

“fuck that! here, y/n, you can play my DS” -darcy

“can you not swear in front of my child?” -jane

you thought tonight would be boring, but then your mom and darcy collectively hit a homeless guy with a car!

“holy crap, we’re all going to jail!” -you

“don’t say ‘crap,’ y/n! we need to get him to a hospital!” -jane

ngl this dude was kinda funky

darcy used her taser and your mom covered your eyes, but you still peaked ;)

ride to the hospital

“don’t touch him, y/n”

“sorry, doc”

and the very next day you guys stole him 💕

“mr. thor, where are you from?”

“i am from asgard! it is much different from this realm, but your’s is adequate, i suppose”

“thanks?”

you could see the way your mom looked at him, though

he ate all the pop tarts >:(

she gave thor her ex boyfriends clothes

“yeah, donald was a real ass—” -you

“don’t say ‘ass.’ darcy curses too much” -jane

“sorry, mom...anyways, donald forgot to pick me up from soccer practice like, a dozen times. he sucked” -you

“this ‘donald’ doesn’t seem like a very good man...also, what is ‘soccer?’” -thor

you grabbed a soccer ball and tried to show him how to play but there was some other stuff the *scientists* had to take care of

you were a regular at izzy’s diner (well, mom was) and they always made you cute pancakes in different shapes!!

“ah, it’s a smiley face! that’s adorable!” -thor

“yeah! they like to surprise me whenever i come in. they’re pretty awesome” -you

*your mom literally beaming at how good thor is with you already*

you and thor were drawing on paper placemats

and then he broke a glass and you started giggling hdhshshs

but he had to leave

“no, thor, please don’t go!”

“i hope to meet you again one day, little one. hopefully fate sees it through”

:((((

no time to be sad bc ur mom’s lab got hijacked by the government

“hey, no fair! that’s my diary!” -you

“sorry, kid. there are constellation drawings we have to observe” -coulson

“aw, you draw constellations? wait, not now. you can’t just take all our stuff. especially that! that belongs to a child!” -jane

“sic ‘em, y/n!” -darcy

“don’t listen to darcy, y/n” -selvig

chilling in the trailer and missing thor bc he was the most interesting thing to happen to you and your mom in a while

and you wanted her to be happy even tho he was kind of crazy

“hey, mom? do you want to watch the stars tonight like we used to do? we could make s’mores?”

“that sounds like a great idea, baby! i’ve gotta go take care of some science stuff, so i’ll pick up some s’mores stuff while i’m out. love you!”

yeah she went to go see thor and he kinda got arrested but your mom came back home so you could watch the stars!

“so, do you like thor?” -you

“what? what makes you say that?” -jane

“it’s cool if you do, i think he’s awesome. a little weird, but at least he’s nice”

then thor and selvig came home and selvig was drunk as a skunk

*poking him while he giggles and tells you about thor*

“i wish your grandfather could have met that guy! he would have loved him...i wish you met your grandfather, too” -selvig

thor inviting you back outside

“i’d like you to teach me more about this ‘soccer’”

by the time you guys were done, it was 3am and you were too pumped to go to sleep

so thor told you stories of his home and battle and family

you didn’t want him to stop, you were fascinated by it all

and uhhhh yeah then earth kinda had some vikings show up

they told you that you’d “make a fine warrior one day”

and then yall got attacked by a ????? a what??? a destroyer???????

“get y/n out of here now! they shouldn’t have to see this!” -thor

you were still nearby and saw thor become thor again

after he was done fighting the destroyer, you ran to give him a hug

“that was awesome! can i hold your hammer?”

“maybe someday, little one”

then you didn’t see him for 2 years

which upset your mom a good bit, you had to help her through that episode. lots of sitting on the couch and eating ice cream together talking about how he wasn’t worth her time even tho you missed him too

but he came back! and then your mom sent everything flying bc she had an “infinity stone” inside her and thor took you two to asgard

“y/n! you’ve grown so much, i almost didn’t recognize you!” -thor

tbh you really digged the outfit they gave you, but also you were on another planet? thor insisted on giving you a tour (by flying you around)

“i do hope you’re having fun, little one!”

worrying about your mom simultaneously bc you overheard she was sick

but asgard got attacked and you and jane were confined to a room in the palace, which sucked because you wanted to see it all

but thor sent guards to bring you anything to keep you entertained

“maybe we’ll skip the mace for now, thank you” -jane

after several events that count as child endangerment, this chapter came to an end and your mom and thor finally made it official

loki called you a rodent and then saved your life so you were kinda iffy about him

about a year or two later, your mom had to travel a great deal in order to get some work done, so you were left in the care of thor, who took you to avengers tower

“oh, my girlfriend’s child is an angel! and they’re so intelligent, just like their mother!” -thor gushing to other partygoers

“yeah, thor, your ‘angel’ is sneaking drinks from the elderly” -tony

*sipping his beer* “they’re a growing teenager”

you did have an amazing time interacting with the avengers

and once they tried grabbing the hammer, you knew you had to get in on it (but you failed like the rest)

“don’t worry, my y/n, you have to be eighteen years of age to be able to lift mjölnir!” -thor

“oh, that makes sense!” -you, while thor aggressively shakes his head at the other avengers. he just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel bad you weren’t worthy yet :(

more child endangerment but really what did you expect?

thor went off world and your mom split it off w him but you did have his email so you were still in contact with him

swearing you saw odin on the street once or twice (fast forward)

and then your mom dusted and thor found you as soon as he possibly could, it was so good to see him

he took you in since you were alone now, you moved to new asgard and became prince(ss) of the new land by relation?? makes sense right

basically you and valkyrie made all the calls while thor grieved for years

but he still took care of you

“y/n, would you like to play video games with me? i think it may be a good bonding experience, what do you say?” -thor

“duh!”

uncle korg made you help him with fortnite while thor was asleep

you wished to wield stormbreaker one day

showing thor earth media! his favorite star wars character is r2-d2 dont ask why

he taught you asgardian recipes and you taught him...earth recipes?

when he was drunk he’d ramble on about his childhood and battle and enemies and jane and loki and hela and frigga and literally anything that came to mind

“y/n, could you please get me a beer? and get one for yourself, too” -thor

valkyrie most definitely gave you some battle training so you you blow off some steam, you were glad she taught you how to fight like a true warrior

thor wanted to teach you battle tactics so you could fight alongside him, but he never got around to it

a raccoon and bruce banner visited later on, proposing a way to get your family back, thor was an emotional wreck

his debriefing on the reality stone was tense when he started crying about your mom and everyone stared at you

“hey, don’t look at me. i don’t control the god, i just keep him company”

ending up waiting 1 second for the avengers to come back from their mission, resulting in you being stuck in the middle of a very heavy battle

“y/n, get out of here!” -thor

“don’t worry, thor! valkyrie taught me a few moves!”

“you make me incredibly proud, little one!”

“i’m not so little anymore, am i?”

“you will always be my little one, y/n. blood or not, that will not change!”

victory, but at what cost? it was a rough ride, you needed to get patched up, but your mom was finally home and thor...he decided it was time to leave earth again

“don’t worry, my y/n. i will see you again.” *tearing up* “i’m so glad i got the pleasure of raising you these past few years. i love you dearly, now go be with your mother”

you straight up wanted to bawl your eyes out right there

“well, y/n, you’re next in line for the throne of new asgard. what is your first command?” -valkyrie

“actually, i think you’d make a much better ruler than me. i’ve got to spend some time with my mother now that she’s home”

“you’re so much like him, you know that?”

staying with your mother, who was diagnosed with cancer not long after returning from the soul stone (a/n: jane getting cancer is canon in the comics and confirmed for thor 4)

“i missed five years of your life and now i’m sick, that’s just our luck, isn’t it?” -jane

she was understandably upset, but she also felt guilty

“mom, don’t beat yourself up. everything is okay, we’re still together right now. i won’t be going anywhere, i promise”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiantfavs // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck //

[olivinesea]

Oooh fun! Okay, do you have any headcannons or thoughts on a dyslexic Hotch? I feel like I never see dyslexia with any characters really, and I like the idea of him with it. And if you do and you want to write something about it, a dyslexic Hotch with the team (and them being the supportive and protective family they are?) Thank you! ❤️

I hope you have fun, wherever/whatever you’re doing!!

I love this so much!! Thank you :) okay I don’t have much personal experience with dyslexia so hopefully I get this decently accurate. The biggest thing that surprised me when I was doing a quick search is that it isn’t actually a matter of reading words or letters backwards? It’s more an inability to connect letters to the appropriate sounds or to break words up into component parts; a general phonological awareness struggle.

So, as with many things, it seems to me to be a matter of slowing down, learning at your own pace. This ties in nicely with so many of my other Hotch thoughts, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. Idk what this is, it’s neither headcanon nor proper story but hopefully it’s something like what you were looking for:

When he’s a kid he gets called a slow learner due to his undiagnosed dyslexia. It was much less common to get that kind of diagnosis back then in general and I am sure his dad would have hated the idea of his son needing any kind of extra help. So he’s slow to speak, slow to learn how to read, has difficulty with numbers, absolutely hates being called on to read out loud because it’s actual torture and the other kids have no hesitation about laughing at him. So he becomes withdrawn, labeled a “bad kid,” stops trying because, fuck it, he never gets any kind of support, who cares right? It’s always a fight at home, he starts hiding his work, lying about his grades. This works for awhile bc his parents are distracted by other things. His problems are much bigger than grades by the time they do notice.

However, while he hates school and the way people talk about him and his struggles, like he isn’t even there, he discovers that he doesn’t hate learning. There’s a small library in town where he found he could hide out, no one bothering him for hours if he just sat still for with a book open. He was good at sitting still, at being invisible. But eventually a librarian notices that he’s always got the same book open, some sort of technical manual, that he is rarely turning the pages. She asks him if he likes what he’s reading. He’s just alarmed to be spoken to, afraid that being noticed means he will soon no longer have this sanctuary. He nods and tries to bluff his way through but it’s obvious he hasn’t read it, despite having looked at it for weeks straight. The librarian doesn’t say anything outright, just lets him be for now.

Next time she sees him she brings him a different book, a collection of Grimms fairy tales. He wants to complain that it’s for little kids but is too nervous to refuse it. She asks if she can read him her favorite story from it. It’s dark and twisted and fantastical and he can’t help but be drawn in by it. He’s sad when she’s done reading, wants to hear it again, to capture all the details to replay to himself later. She shows him where it starts, encourages him to read it himself. He doesn’t look at her bc he doesn’t want her to see how upset he is by that, already frustrated by the anticipation that he won’t be able to get through it. But she stays with him, helping him where he gets stuck, asking him questions about the story, making sure it’s making sense to him.

They slowly work their way through the whole collection over the course of months. They spend days on each story, repeating it until he’s confident, she never makes him feel like he’s taking too long or wasting her time. Sometimes has to reread a section multiple times, gets hung up on the language rather than the story but it’s okay, she gives him a notebook to copy down parts that spin too loudly in his mind, saving them and also releasing him from their hold so he can move forward. She lets him keep the book, tells him it was too old to stay in circulation anyway, they had a new copy on order already. She’s the first person who was patient with him, that showed him he could do it, he just needed a little more time, a little more practice than other kids.

In college this is part of why he spends so much time at the library. Part of it is his natural inclination to overwork himself, push until he’s given more than he can in hopes that it might be almost enough. He knows he’s never been enough, why would that change just because he’s in a new place? But the other part is he simply needs more time to get through the coursework, to make it through the excessive amounts of reading he’s assigned. Some other students don’t even bother to read but he would never do that, he makes sure that he not only reads every chapter assigned but he reads it again, takes notes, highlights, annotates, does everything in his power to be prepared. Sure he might work himself to the point of exhaustion, to the point where he makes himself sick (though he’ll try to deny that too) but he’s never caught trying to read something while others wait for his answer, the letters and sounds meaningless, slipping away from him faster the more eyes he feels turn towards him, wondering what could be taking so long. No one ever gets the chance to laugh at him for being slow in college, he never allows them to see that side of him.

As an adult, the leader of the BAU, he’s too well respected for anyone to dare laugh at him but he still hates feeling unprepared. This ends up looking like long nights in the office, reviewing case files to the point of memorization, so that he won’t have to read any of it in front of his team. He can if he has to, he’s developed skills over the years, ways to calm the panic that only makes it harder, can fake it well enough that no one would really notice. Until one day, distracted by a migraine and the fallout of some fight with Haley, he gets stuck. He can’t remember something and he tries to read the sentence that has the information but the stupid word just won’t resolve into sounds that make sense and he just stops talking. He’s glaring at the form like it might catch fire. No one says anything for a moment while he tries to refocus, tries to work around echoes of laughter, decades long past but always ready to jump out at him if he lets his guard down, allows a mistake, a tired moment to derail the image of perfect competence that he’s built around himself. Penelope jumps in, finishing the thought, completing the list of traits shared by the victims. He forces himself to smile at her because he really is grateful, it wasn’t her fault. She scrunches her nose at him, dismissing his silent thanks with a toss of her head. It was nothing, everyone needs a little assist now and then.

No one brings it up and he doubles his efforts not to let anyone see. But he’s so tired on the plane coming back from a case, he’s been staring the same forms for an hour at least. He can feel his ears turning red with frustration. There’s really no reason he has to do this now but the fact that his mind is refusing, almost seems to be teasing him, makes him dig in harder. Emily sits down opposite him, pulling the folder away without asking. He’s about to say something sharp, something he’ll regret saying to her when he really means it for himself, but the expression on her face is so odd, smiling with a frown between her eyebrows. It isn’t pity, she respects him far too much, but there is curiosity and something else, something soft.

“Drink with me.” She slides him a glass and they don’t talk, just look out the window, look at the light playing off the ice in their glasses. He doesn’t see the file again until it appears on his desk, every form neatly filled out, the places needing his signature flagged. All but the last spot, where she’s signed his name eerily perfectly, difficult for even him to see that it’s not his own. Just so he knows she can if she wants to. Equal parts offer and threat.

Penelope and Reid start a book club. Derek joins right away. Emily rolls her eyes when she’s invited, muttering something about spending her free time on more work but they know she will join. Rossi flat out refuses to read the books but offers his house for meetings. Hotch hesitates, wanting to say yes but nervous to commit to an activity like that. He loves books, loves to talk about books. He doesn’t love a time limit on books.

The next time they have to drive to a case, Derek puts on a copy of the audiobook. It’s the first time they make it to a destination without any bickering from the backseat. They don’t get through the whole thing but later he finds a copy of the audiobook on his desk, complete with a disc player and headphones.

A different month, Reid tells him about how his mother always used to read him books and somehow finesses an offer to read to Hotch without him even realizing he’s accepted it. So Spencer comes in to Hotch’s office on lunch breaks occasionally and reads to him whatever the book of the month is. He loves it, remembering the first person who read to him, how shocked he’d been to be treated with patience, with understanding and wondering how he got so lucky to be surrounded by people like her, so ready to support him, wanting him there with them rather than off alone, uselessly fighting with himself to prove his self sufficiency over some uncooperative letters.

Okay, that was so much more than I was planning on but here we are. I hope you liked it and thank you SO much for the idea. If you ever have any others you want to share I am totally here for it. :)

Send me requests!

[wienerbarnes]

The Escape

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,717

Warnings: mind control ooooo, general violence, description of stealing a car that is wildly inaccurate bc ive.... never stolen a car, dues ex machina

A/N: some background about the reader! this one takes place before the last chapter of the original series, way before anything with bucky. this oneshot kinda recounts her prison escape 👀 not a lot of bucky in this one, but kind how the reader got to where she is and stufffff i love a good origin story

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

You didn’t sleep the entire night. How could you? How were you supposed to sleep when you know you’re waking up to your inevitable death?

You refused a last meal a few hours ago. What was the point? You didn’t have an appetite anyway.

All you could do was count the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until the footsteps would sound down the hall, arriving at your cell, the guards would stare at you through the bullet-proof glass wall, the only wall of four that wasn’t made of thick concrete.

They’d take you down to the observation room, they’d strap you down in the chair before asking for your final words. You’d stare out into the window of the observation room, unable to see through to the otherside, but knowing there’d be witnesses there. Maybe the families of people you killed. Maybe government officials, the ones who worked as hard as possible to get you this ending.

First, the sodium thiopental would be injected into your veins to sedate you. Then, the vecuronium bromide will be given that will send your body into paralysis. Finally, the potassium chloride will stop your heart. And your life will be over.

What a shame.

Too soon, your life was wasted. And too soon did the guards feet sound down the hall. And too soon did he arrive in front of your cell, ordering you to get up from your bed to shackle you.

He’s alone, you notice. Perhaps they don’t expect you to put up much of a fight.

Something snaps in your brain and before you realize you’re even doing it, you’re tapping into the young guard’s poor brain. He was a cop. A cop turned prison guard to spend more time at home, less time out in the world trying to catch bad guys. Never really bad guys, though, always just some unlucky soul caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Open the cell.” You tell him, finally through to his head. The keys jingle as he unlocks the three complicated locks attached to the side of the door.

You’re suddenly grateful for the hundreds of times they called you crazy, they called you a psycho, they told you you didn’t have powers, that that was your sad and sorry excuse of the reason for your crimes.

“Take off your clothes.” You order next. The young man begins to strip, taking off his clothes until he’s down to his underwear. White briefs with a blue waistband.

Once his uniform is on your body, you take everything he has, leaving his pistol with him.

“Shoot at everybody that comes in here.” You tell him, and he stares at you blankly, no longer in control of his actions as you take over.

You take a moment, closing your eyes and trying to concentrate on what the prison looks like, where the exits are, and where the guards are. You peek an eye open to glance at the man’s watch that now sits on your wrist, eight minutes until the shift changes.

Eight minutes for you to not fuck this up.

You close the cell door behind you, locking it, and making your way down the hall. You need to time this perfectly so that you’re slipping out as the other guards are leaving.

Just keep your head down, and get out as quickly as possible. Don’t talk to anyone. Just get out and start walking. You’ll get to the city eventually and you’ll hide out until you can keep making your way through New York. Maybe you’ll go to Jersey. Or up to New Hampshire.

Yeah, you’re just going to walk to New Hampshire, aren’t you?

Not a priority right now. Focus on getting out. A deep breath until you unlock the gate at the end of the hall, making your way out into another hallway. You visualize the map in your head once more and keep making your way down. You walk with confidence, head still slightly tilted down, but steps quick and light. Another guard turns the corner at the end of the hall and you make sure your steps don’t falter, and he walks right by you without a second thought.

You’re still unsure about the whole mind control thing. You don’t want to question it, because it seems to be pretty useful right now, but you don’t want to abuse it either, knowing your luck will eventually fail you.

It’s not long before you hear a gunshot ring out in the distance and you glance at a clock on the wall to see the shift change happening now.

You need to get out of here, now. Soon the guards will realize it’s you who’s missing from your cell and the search will begin. They’ll start with the entire grounds of the prison, which will hopefully buy you some time to make it to the city, if you sprint.

You finally make it to a more open area, exit signs now posted at the tops of doorways. You finally find a group of other men, some with bags or coats and you slip into the crowd, hoping that these are the guys leaving from their shift.

“Hey, have a good one, man. Tell the family I said hello.” A rough hand pats your shoulder before brushing past you.

Your stomach drops at the fact that these men are so unaware. So unaware that their real friend is in your cell, probably having a shootout with the new guards who just began their shift. The fact that these guards showed up to work today and the first thing they encounter is another guard in his underwear shooting at them.

Push it back. Push it back. Push it back.

As you’re huddled in between bodies, a bright light suddenly washes over your face. Sunlight. Your eyes burn at the feeling, a feeling so foreign having not felt it in months. You force them open though. You need to separate quickly, because not only do you not know where the parking lot is, you don't know which car is yours, you don’t have keys, and even if you did, you don’t know how to fucking drive.

Why did you never learn this! You never thought you’d need to since you decided you were going to join the military at sixteen, but you still should’ve fucking looked into it!

You don’t think you’ll make it walking. It’ll draw too much attention. The prison is in the middle of fucking nowhere and you’re just going to walk home? What would be worse is if someone offers you a ride.

New plan: find your car and hope it’s unlocked so you can sit inside until everyone leaves.

You know Hydra made you break into things before; houses, cars, etc. But you’ve tried to repress so much of that time that you can’t remember if you ever hot wired a car before.

You hope your luck doesn’t run out anytime soon.

Men arrive at their cars and the options quickly narrow down between an orange SUV and a black, fancy-looking car. You take your chances on the SUV.

It’s unlocked. It’s fucking unlocked. You shut the door and heave, feeling so hard to breath in the small space, but feeling relieved at the chance to finally make some noise and express your stress outside of that group of people you were stuck around.

“C’mon. C’mon! Fight or flight, c’mon, just make me know how to hot wire this.” You close your eyes, as though that will suddenly make the knowledge appear in your head. It doesn’t, surprisingly.

Until you look in the cupholder to see a dozen bobby pins. He probably has a daughter. “It’s going to have to do.” You mumble to yourself.

You quickly straighten them out and shove them into the small spot where the key goes. You twist and turn, holding a bunch of pins together to simulate an odd shape of the key, until finally you hear a click.

That’s gotta be good! Right? You go with it, continuing to twist until you hear a sputtering and crunchy sound of the engine starting.

This guy drives a piece of shit car. But it’s fucking on! You waste no time in putting the car into the drive before pulling out the lot. You make yourself extremely nauseous at your own driving, or rather, attempt at driving. You see in the rearview mirror the lights on the prison flashing, the bright red signaling that they’ve realized you escaped. You give yourself twenty minutes before they ditch the search of the prison grounds and look for you in the city.

Down the road you alternate between driving fifteen miles an hour to sixty, finding it so difficult to get a steady control of the car. But you’re doing it! You only need to make it to the city. That’s it.

“How the fuck do they make sixteen-year-olds do this shit?”

Eventually you get the hang of it. Still a terrible driver, but you at least don’t feel as scared driving among other cars. 

The longer you drive, the more it catches up to you what you’ve done. Soon enough, the tears come and so do the sobs. Until you stop a red light and let out a yell of agony, the stress and sadness washing through your body.

It’s hard, wanting to break down completely but having to keep your eyes open for the light to change, and having to pay attention to your surroundings. You find a small alleyway to pull into and you put the car in park before ditching it.

No time to cry, you can cry later. You peek around at the name of restaurants and stores around you, not recognizing any of them. You look at the street signs not recognizing those, either. You haven’t been around society in almost ten years, and you feel hopelessly and utterly lost.

You look around the alleyway and see a big dumpster. Just for a little while, you think. You lift the lid and climb inside, shutting the lid above you.

It’s dark, greasy, and the worst thing you’ve ever smelled, but it’s somehow better than where you were. You don’t know how much time has passed, but the noise outside the dumpster grows, and you make a guess that it’s around six or seven in the morning.

If you want to blend in with the crowd, you need to change your clothes. A prison guard outfit will most definitely make you stand out to people, especially when news breaks that there's a prison escapee on the loose.

When you finally lift the lid to stand up, you look to your left to see a teenager, probably not older than seventeen, staring at you, frozen, key in hand, seemingly to open up some store that you’re in back of.

He’s tall and lanky, and what makes him stand out to you the most is the spiky black hair he sports on his head and the thick black eyeliner around the rims of his eyes.

“You… okay?” He asks, clearly confused as to why a random woman in a prison guard outfit is hanging out in the dumpster behind her place of work. But you’re frozen. You don’t know what to say. You can’t imagine the last twelve hours I’ve been through, it won’t make much sense.

“Are you… hungry?” He asks when you don’t answer. “I’m, uh, opening now, but no one will be here for another hour or two when we actually open. I can make you something if you like?” He offers.

He thinks you’re homeless. Which, you are, technically. But he doesn’t recognize you. Perhaps you haven’t made the news yet, but it’ll only be a matter of time.

You finally nod, climbing out of the dumpster bin and walking over to where he holds the door open for you.

You devour the sandwich he makes you, a simple ham and cheese on white bread, but it’s the best thing you’ve eaten in, well, a decade.

“How long have you been homeless for?”

“Are you from New York?”

“What’s your zodiac sign?”

“What’s your favorite band?”

So many questions come from the curious kid, kindness radiating from him. Casual conversation ensues, and you’re careful not to give too much away.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask, wiping your mouth with a napkin as you swallow the last bit of sandwich.

“How do I get to Brooklyn from here?”

“You’re in Brooklyn, silly.” He responds and your eyes widen a bit, not thinking you’d get this lucky.

“Sorry, that came out kinda insensitive,” He apologizes, picking up your plate, “It’s not like you have a GPS or anything. Anywhere you’re trying to go in particular?”

You have a flash of a vision, Bucky sleeping soundly in his apartment, as the sun shines through in orange cracks in his blinds. Your mind envisions the building, where it is, what it looks like, and how you can get there. Why is your mind and body wanting to lead you to where Bucky is? If you’re trying to lay low, why does your vision want you to go to what’s the third most recognizable government figure in the country, after the President and Captain America?

“Uhm… to see a friend. I guess I wasn’t trying to go, but I have a lot of… free time now, so. Just don’t know what I’d say to him.” You tell the boy, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion. You’re not looking forward to the rest of the day, or week, or month, or life.

“Why don’t you write a note? That’s what I do; when I don’t think I can say the right thing, I write it instead. I can give you some paper and an envelope.” He offers.

This kid has got to be my guardian angel personified, you think. What are the fucking odds?

“You should take it with you, though. I gotta open up soon, and I’m sure you don’t want to experience the morning rush of this place.” You read my mind.

“I’ll give you a change of clothes, too. Where’d you get that, anyway? Do you hang around dumpsters often? Is that one from a Halloween store?”

“Okay, that’s too much. You’ve already been so kind.” You refuse, ignoring the curious questions that shoot out of his mouth.

“Then don’t take it as me being kind, take it as me being mean. You smell like shit from that dumpster.”

You can’t help but laugh, and oh how good it feels. You never thought you’d laugh again, and here you are, giggling at being told you smell bad by some goth teenager.

Soon enough, you’re walking through the backways of buildings, in a crisp white t-shirt that smells of the cologne of a teenage boy, and note and envelope in hand. It takes you about forty five minutes to make it to Bucky’s apartment building, and it was only slightly less stressful that your walk out of that prison.

Through the glass door, you don’t see anyone at the front desk, so you open the door and step inside.

To your left you see a wall of mailboxes, and one large one at the bottom overflowing with letters and gifts. You take a wild guess and say that that one belongs to Bucky. You’ve heard he’s a pretty popular guy, along with the company he keeps.

You take the stairs to the eighth floor and the fourteenth room, hoping the 814 on that mailbox wasn’t random. You scribble out on your piece of paper, tearing it off and keeping the rest in case you need for another note in the future, or a snack. You bite at the blue bracelet on your wrist before it breaks and stick it in the envelope, tucking in the flap to close it.

You place it on the ground and silently press your ear to the door. You don’t hear him, but you hear the sound of the television, announcing your missing presence and the manhunt around the city. You take that as a cue to leave quickly.

Why you feel such a draw towards Bucky, you’re not sure, but for some reason, you have a feeling that leaving him this gift of sorts won’t come back to haunt you.

Perhaps it’ll even lead to the opposite.

[strangest-loser]

Fire in my Blood ~ Jasper Hale x OC ~ Book Two : Chapter Four

Twilight Rewrite

Book One // Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three

Masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jasper,

I always wanted to go to Italy, but this is not how I imagined it at all. I always thought I would travel the world with only one bag and live my life one day at a time, I would spend some time in Florence where the Medici family ruled hundreds of years ago, I would eat good food and walk the entire length of the historical city with the sun on my face, hell, I might have even auditioned for the ballet... just for fun. I had a plan, and until quite recently that plan was a solo one. Then I met you.

I miss you, I miss everyone obviously but not waking up next to you is a strange sensation that I hate. I feel equally crowded and lonely here. The Volturi have been respectful and to some degree kind in the past few months. My eating habits have been respected and I am free to hunt outside the city walls at night. I would be content if you were here with me, but It’s tolerable.

Aro is a strange character but there is truly no doubting his intelligence. He has taken a liking to me and I have no doubts its because of my persuasion. I am controlling it better than I was six months ago and when I am not out serving council I mainly use it to fuck with Jane, Alec not so much but that girl drives me insane. She seems angered that she isn’t the favorite anymore.

Caius has remained cold but if I’m honest did we really expect anything different. What is surprising though is the friend I have found in Marcus. He is calming and his extensive wisdom is something I try to expose myself to most days. It is really tragic what happened to his wife, who would do something so cruel to someone, ripping away the one person they are supposed to love for eternity.

How is everyone? I really miss you all. Aro Is sending me away for the remainder of my service, to Scotland. Apparently some of the highland vampires have been reckless recently and he wants me to bring it under control...

This will be my last letter for a while because ancient rural Scotland doesn’t have the best postal service. I haven’t got much left in my year until I can come home. I can’t wait to see you.

With all my eternal love,

Alessia.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Handwritten letters felt special to Alessia, they could be kept. Every single letter she had received from Jasper, Alice or Bella was stacked in a neat pile in one of the drawers of the desk that sat in her room in the castle. It was overcast and raining today so she could actually post her letter herself. Slipping on her black velvet cloak over her black dress was now a common task that she did while sliding the envelope into a pocket in her skirt, her black heeled boots clicking against the marble floors as she locked the door to her room with the large bronze key which then found its home alongside the letter. Walking down corridor after corridor wasn’t confusing anymore as she had been here for nine months now, the remaining three she would be spending in the UK before making her way back home. The family had moved back to Forks while she spent her time in Italy so thankfully when she came back she would be going somewhere familiar.  A large door stood cracked open with a warm glow emerging from within. Alessia slid the door open and was greeted by towering bookshelves with titles dating back to the beginning of written history. The fireplace was lit and in it’s presence stood a silent Marcus. This is where he spent most of his time, reading or staring into the flames. Soft clicking alerted the man that he had company and without casting his eyes over his shoulder he greeted Alessia, knowing she would be the only other person to spend their time in the library. The last person who wasn’t her or Marcus to spend their days here was Carlisle. 

Alessia knew what it was that Marcus was holding in his hands. The tiny statuette went everywhere with him. A small icon of Hera carved in marble, seemingly from a set. When she first asked about it Marcus cracked the tiniest smile and explained that it belonged to a shrine that was in his and Didyme’s home back in Greece in the 1400′s BC. It was horrific what happened to her and Alessia pitied Marcus, he lost his great love. “The flames are soothing to look at,” was all he said to the young girl who sat at the old man’s side. “I’m going to miss you Marcus,” she mumbled, trying not to sound too bothered by her leaving him “You have been a dear friend in this cold place.” She was met with silence but she knew that the man wished her a safe journey.

Despite the rain it was still humid walking around the square, hood pulled tight over her face as she navigated the old town streets. Three minutes later Alessia pushed open a wooden door with a gloved hand and walked into a small courtyard. The fountain in the middle still ran in spite of the raindrops filling the bowl. The post office had a warm light shining from the windows breaking up the dark grey atmosphere that the overcast day gave. The building was small and cozy as she opened the door, coming in out of the rain. The only other person in the building was the old man who ran the post office. “Buongiorno signor Rossi,” she let roll off her tongue. Living in Volterra for the past nine months meant she picked up on a certain level of Italian. A happy wave from the old man put a smile on her face, Mister Giovanni Rossi was a short man with a mane of fluffy grey hair, the deep-set laugh lines around his eyes and mouth could tell anyone that he had lived a happy life. “Ciao Alessia, un'altra lettera per l'America?” “si Grazie.” Handing her letter over felt like taking off warm boots and stepping barefoot onto a cold stone floor. Knowing that she wouldn’t be writing to her love anytime soon set a pit of discomfort in her stomach, Hopefully the next three months would go quickly. Biding a final goodbye to the gracious man she stepped back out into the rain and slinked off down the winding streets. The rain began to stop and the petrichor that filled the air calmed Alessia to a point of contentment. All happy feelings however disappeared as quickly as they came when she entered the doors of the familiar clocktower and saw a small blonde figure waiting for her. In no mood to deal with her on her last night in Italy Alessia strode past Jane completely ignoring the girl who tried to announce that Aro was looking for her. Alessia couldn’t wait to get away from this, there were some things she would miss when she returned home, but not enough to outweigh the things she was glad to be rid of.

Despite her innate dislike of the man she knew better than to keep Aro waiting. He gave her the assignment quickly, see to it that the Scottish coven began to respect the laws or destroy them. She had no intention of doing the latter but they didn’t need to know that. She could see the reluctance in his eyes, Alessia knew he wanted nothing more than to keep her for all eternity, but Aro was smart and he knew full well that she was powerful enough to destroy him, and no one was worth risking his power. So with a reluctant goodbye Alessia was packing her bags and soon found herself on a plane ready to endure her last few months of service to the Volturi.

The clothes she wore in Volterra were regal and elegant, dresses and cloaks with heels and fancy jewels, Alessia couldn’t be happier to be swapping them out for something a little more her own speed. She changed into a pair of black jeans and a cream sweater, black boots and a rain jacket also joined her ensemble and she felt more herself than she had in months. The morning was quiet as her plane touched down in Inverness, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon. The ground was a lush green, a sharp contrast to the pale stone city she had been trapped in. The run out of the city took merely minutes and Alessia immediately made her way towards Scardroy, Where a clan of vampires were unaware of her arrival.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Short enough chapter tonight because we are nearing the bridging point between New Moon and Eclipse. Alessia really just wants to get this over with but she may run into a few delays getting home to her mate. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[irene-sadler]

Sir Reynard and the Red Knight

notes: 1. here's a (relatively) short n' interesting discussion of the history of the St. Bartholomew Day Fair in London, which was held roughly annually from sometime in the 12th century to sometime in the 19th century. I casually yanked some ideas (ull find this thing about rabbits casually mentioned with no explanation in the source) from events that took place at this specific festival to apply to my much much smaller Winter Solstice Fair held in Rivia.

translating any irl medieval holiday/fair/feast into a fantasy setting is a lil tricky b/c 95 percent of what happens and what makes them so interesting (to me anyway) is tied up in and totally inseperable from medieval Christian religious expression. however, when a lot of my source material was written (usually several hundred years ago bc public domain ebooks) there were still some weird obviously pre-Christian traditions in common use in parts of England. more on this next chapter b/c some of them are fuckin bizarre and so ofc I ganked them.

----

8.

The next day dawned cold, but the blue cast to the sky promised clear weather. The Queen had long since collected a list of names from a page, and sat scribbling figures and notes in the margins as she considered the best way to arrange forty contestants into equitable matches. Isbel proved unsurprisingly unhelpful; the Baroness, however, offered advice on the matter in a slightly imperious tone:

    “There’s no way to match these names up, by perceived skill, and if you try there will be hurt feelings. Random selection won’t answer, either; my suggestion is to choose from whoever is standing around when we arrive and let them sort themselves out as best they can after.”

    Meve shuffled the papers a moment, admitted to herself that she had no better ideas, and nodded grudgingly.

    “Yes, you’re probably right. First come, first served it is, then. Here, look after these,” she said, handing the papers over to the older woman, “I have to go; the Mayor will be wanting something from me within the hour and I’ve other matters to attend to, first.”

    She left the Baroness and Isbel eyeing each other suspiciously over their breakfasts and strode rapidly away to the stables. Reynard’s horse, dozing alone in his stall, greeted her with polite disinterest; she spotted a light flickering from inside a little storage room nearby, where she found his owner carefully examining his armor under Pug and Gaspar’s vacant stares. Reynard smiled tightly at her, Gaspar glowered from under his unkempt hair, and Pug sketched a lazy gesture resembling a salute.

    “Anything to report?” she asked them all, in a slightly falsely cheerful tone. Reynard glanced at Gaspar, who eyed Pug, who squinted up at the Queen through her single eye.

    “Well, someone came in after midnight rung, but we put an end t’ his fucking skulking, quick,” she explained, then pointed at a few dark spots on the dirt floor. “And you can see the blood right there.”

    “So you can,” Meve said, not at all displeased. “Don’t suppose you managed to get a look at the culprit?”

    Pug shook her head, then, considering a moment, noted, “A tall bastard, whoever. Gaspar got ‘im right in th’ ankle from the shadows.”

    “Tall, with a limp,” the Queen considered.

    Gaspar hesitated, and brushed his hand against his own pox-scarred face, glancing at Pug.

    “Might’ve had a beard, also,” she translated.  “Hard t’ say anything else.”

    “Better than nothing at all to go on. Where’s Gascon?”

    Reynard shook his head. Gaspar glanced at Pug again; she chewed her right thumbnail and shrugged idly.

    “Don’t know,” she said, cooly studying the dried blood on the floor; a breathless page then hustled in, bowed to all present - Pug croaked a laugh at him - and announced that the Mayor requested the Queen’s presence, urgently.

    “What, already?” she asked. “All right; tell him I’ll be along shortly. You two can go as well,” she added, to the brigands, “Thank you for your assistance, and tell the Duke to report to me the moment you next see him.”

    “As for you,” she added quickly to Reynard, as soon as the room cleared out, “In case I don’t see you later - “

    He put his helm down wordlessly, stepped across the few feet between them, and kissed her; she took her time pulling away, despite the city government’s looming crisis, and said, “Good luck, not that you need it; I look forward to your victory.”

    “Yes, thank you,” he said, somewhat embarrassed, “I’ll do my best.”

      An hour later, the event was already underway. The brilliant sun pulled a faint fog from the frozen ground, and flashed on the armor of the first two contestants as they met with a resounding crash.

    “Coll, and Bohault,” Giselle reported; they had put her in charge of keeping track of the course of the jousts, and she accordingly drew a bold check in red ink beside Bohault. The Queen nodded her congratulations to the man, who returned her notice with an answering, professional jerk of his head. The next contestants were familiar, as well, and the third set strangers, not unexpectedly; twenty rounds had to be got through, and some of the names on the list had a distinctly foreign flavor. One such man, called Devyn, provided the judges’ first opportunity to deliberate, as he and John Kimborne knocked each other down in the same moment.

    “Sir Kimborne’s a proper knight, which ought to count for something,” Meve said, “And that sweep with the lance on his opponent’s part was, I believe, not quite legal, which is no doubt why he was unseated.”

    “It’s hardly Devyn’s fault that he’s from Novigrad, which doubtless is why he didn’t know not to do that,” Giselle said, smiling encouragingly at the young man. “Also, I think he is well, you know, handsome, for a foreigner.”

    “Yes, I’m sure you do,” the Baroness said, rolling her eyes. By unspoken consent, she reigned as their chief; accordingly, when she pointed impatiently at the knight, her decision was accepted without further comment and the contest carried on. They made good time under her able command, assisted by the timely appearance of mulled wine and sandwiches at midmorning. The names and men rolled by, ticked off in red; they made it past the unpronounceably named Sicg Sicgurdssen, a group of brothers whose names all began with with same letters, Ethan, who put the third and final of the brothers down and received a brilliant smile from Giselle in reward, and as, the Baroness and Queen grew bored and were chatting idly about the relative merits of different styles of tilting helms, Sir Holt, who won his match easily. The Queen eyed him darkly and then abruptly lost interest in side conversation as Reynard appeared, defeated a man named Hall in a few passes, and departed again. The Baroness accepted the sudden silence with faint amusement.

    “Nolda,” Giselle read, next, “And Sir Eres. That’s the knight, there. Who is Nolda?”

    Meve cracked a surprised, but pleased, smile, pointed across the field, where a lanky woman in well-used armor stood apart from the other contestants and said, pleased, “That is Nolda; she was an Aedirnian defector, fought for us in Angren. I hadn’t known she was still here in Rivia; I thought she’d have gone back home.” The Baroness squinted at the woman, with a thoughtful air. Sir Eres scowled at his opponent, glanced hopefully toward the judges, found no leniency in their stony stares, shut his visor and rode to his place. The match lasted all of ten seconds: Nolda held her lance left-handed, at an odd diagonal angle, and then at the last moment straightened it, smacked her opponent’s spear aside with a sweep of her shield, and knocked him away. The Baroness hummed thoughtfully under her breath.      

    “Unusual tactic, but not, I as far as I know, illegal,” Meve commented. Giselle shrugged and crossed out Sir Eres’ name, as the knight picked himself up and stalked angrily toward the judges.

    “It may not answer a second time, but it certainly took him by surprise,” the Baroness said, agreeably, and added, to the clearly disgruntled man, “What’s the problem?”

    The problem was that Sir Eres was a sore loser, Giselle supposed; Meve privately suspected it had as much to do with Nolda herself than it did with his defeat at her hands, but if he was hoping for sympathy he found none. The Baroness turned him away with a few blunt phrases and the contest continued.

    By noon, they had only three names left. Giselle read them off in a doubtful voice: Brossard, Gaheris, Saban. They sent a page to find out where the absentees had got to, and took a break. Giselle hurried off into the crowd with a promise to return in due time, and Meve and the Baroness settled into a debate of the various methods of arranging the second round and soon arrived at a prospective bracket. The page returned, indicated a short, bearded warrior on a sturdy horse, said, “The dwarf, there, is Saban; as for the Duke, nobody seems to know where he might be found, and the squire Gaheris is injured and can’t fight.”

    “I suppose, under the circumstances, that we could simply advance Saban to the second round,” the Queen remarked, frowning at the news of Gascon’s absence, as Giselle came running, slightly flustered. “You’re late,” she added, to the younger woman. Giselle flushed and looked apologetic.

    “Someone had let a bunch of rabbits out into the street, and a crowd of boys was chasing ‘em,” she explained, and then, spotting something on the field, abandoned the tale and gasped, “Look!”

    Meve turned and smiled as she was finally proved right: a man in black armor, mounted on a black horse, sat at the farther end of the barriers. He slowly pointed his lance at Saban, who turned to stare at the judges, baffled. Meve shrugged at him, which he seemed to take for permission; he pulled his helmet on briskly and kicked his horse toward the appointed starting position without delay.

    Saban rode well, but it was obvious that he was an amateur; the black knight unseated him in their first pass without apparent effort. He stood, collected his lost helmet from the ground, picked a clod of dirt out of the visor, and shrugged pragmatically. Meve squinted at the departing black knight’s back, and said, “Well, that was - quite interesting. On to the next round, I suppose. Who is it, Giselle?”

    It was Bohault and the unfortunate Ethan, who stood no chance against the veteran; he received another, slightly less congratulatory smile from Giselle, who then drew a second mark beside the soldier’s name.

    “So,” Meve said to the Baroness, conversationally, watching the next combat with a fine appearance of attention, “Care to make a prediction on the winner, yet?”

    “Of this match? Sir Brewes,” the older woman replied promptly; the knight in question was unseated by his opponent a half minute later. Meve smiled smugly at the winner.

    “Nolda seems to be doing well for herself, doesn’t she? - but I meant overall, in general.”

    “Ah. Well, Sir Odo, Sir Kimborne, perhaps Sir Holt if should he get lucky with his matchups -”

    “What about that black knight?”

    “Oh, him? Well, it’s hard to say, for sure.”

    The conversation paused again as Count Odo made his second appearance, against Sicg, the knight from Skellige. The Count won his second match far more quickly than he had his first. Meve, knowing from long experience that he had been studying the competition for most of the last round, to prepare himself, was unsurprised.

    “Although,” the Baroness continued thoughtfully, as he rode away, “I have seen a black knight fight at a recent tourney, I can’t say as it’s the same one who’s here today. Armor can be changed, but this one doesn’t seem to have the same style, at all. However, he does seem familiar, but they all do after near thirty-five years of watching them in tournaments. Almost all, at least.”

    Meve was growing used to the older woman’s subtle hints, and therefore was sure she’d caught a significant note in her comments. She thought back to the tournament, suddenly recalled the Baroness’s parting behavior with a frown, and re-evaluated her previous assumption: perhaps, after all, there was no confusion about herself and Gascon, and - she realized with mild annoyance - the Baroness had figured out the true reason for her absences, one way or another, but said nothing about it at the time. The same gleam of a secret joke was in the other woman’s eye when she looked away from the field, where Sir Holt was riding away from yet another victory. Meve stared at her, momentarily at a loss. The Baroness smiled slightly and looked back to the lists.

    “So,” the Queen asked, deciding it was best to not to inquire further, “Who do you think it could be, this time?”

    “I’m not sure; I’ll need more time to consider the matter,” the Baroness said, as the black knight returned, last of the pack again, and lined up against Sir Orlac, who had been lingering about as if waiting for him.

    “They’ve fought before,” Meve said, remembering suddenly. “Sir Orlac received an unexpected cold bath, as I recall.”

    Sir Orlac took his second defeat and stood up, swearing loudly at the black knight’s back.

    “At least he didn’t get wet, this time,” she added.

    “What a fall,” Giselle said, “Do you think he’s hurt?”

    The knight was limping slightly, but Meve shrugged dismissively and said, “Oh, no. He’ll be fine. Anyway, who do we have left?”

    Giselle held up the list; the Queen glanced at the six names remaining, nodded, and signaled to the herald.

      “This is going well,” she reflected, after watching Nolda defeat Bohault, to acclaim from the growing audience. “Perhaps I should do it again, next year, but with fewer participants, so it doesn’t take all day.”

    “Hm,” the Baroness said noncommittally, and then, during the next fight, “I do believe I like Sir Kimborne’s chances to win out; what do you think, young lady?”

    Giselle considered.

    “Well, the black knight’s very mysterious; it would be interesting if he won, like a ballad.”

    Nobody bothered to ask Meve for her opinion, but she took no notice, as she was closely watching the knight in question and Sir Holt ride onto the field. The black knight sat dead still on the nearer side, but the red knight passed him and approached the judges, scowling. The Baroness addressed him, in a tone that rivaled Meve’s for arrogance:

    “What’s th’ issue, sir?”

    “I don’t want to fight this - this fellow,” he said, sulkily. “It ain’t proper.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Well, for one, he might not even be a knight; it could be anyone under all that armor - any man at all, or a woman, even, for that matter.”

    “Heard this sort o’ thing before, a hundred time,” Giselle said quietly to Meve, “He’s chicken.”

    “I heard that,” the knight growled. Giselle blinked innocently at him.

    “Well, your other option is Sir Kimborne,” the Baroness said, growing slightly annoyed. Sir Holt opened his mouth, then closed it with an uneasy frown, obviously unsatisfied by the alternative offer.

    “Didn’t this same knight defeat you, a month or two ago? I would think you’d want to avenge your loss,” the Queen noted, idly. He scowled at the reminder, clearly inclined to argue further. The Baroness turned a hostile glare on him; he thought better of it and rode away, muttering, to take his place by the barricade.

    “What an ass,” Meve said.

    The knights completed a pass, to no avail on either side.

    “Didn’t your man Odo duel him, lately?” the Baroness said. “Can’t say I blame him, now, though I thought his behavior uncharacteristically impulsive at the time. Watch and see if the red knight don’t overcommit on this next run.”

    He did, badly; instead of his usual hesitation, he drove in a rush. Meve suspected he had lost his temper. The black knight took the attack on his shield and turned it away.

    “Yes, well, next time I’ll leave you to deal with him instead,” Meve remarked. “It seems to be more effective.”

    Sir Holt took his third run far more cautiously; his usual hesitation returned, and Meve glanced downward to hide a malicious smile as the black knight took advantage, aimed true, and knocked his opponent down hard.

    “I have five sons,” the Baroness replied, flatly. “Th’ egos of these fool knights can’t compare.”

    Gaheris limped heavily onto the field and collected Sir Holt; Meve looked from him to the black knight, who appeared to be watching the squire closely, a slight frown crossing her face. Giselle, meanwhile, made a bold red mark through the loser’s name and said, “It’s Sir Odo and Sir Kimborne, now.”

    It was a fight that the Baroness watched approvingly, making comments to Giselle, as Meve was, again, distinctly uninterested in conversation. The Count finally wore his opponent down from sheer weariness after half a dozen passes, drawing a pleased smile from the Queen. They then broke off for ten minutes, reckoning it was only fair to let their last three knights have a rest before the end. The judges spent the time in conference, deciding how to arrange their semi-finals; the no-shows had ruined their early arrangements, leaving them with an odd number of contestants. The Baroness eventually ruled that Sir Odo, being the senior knight, should be given a free round, and Nolda and the stranger would go against each other, as a result. Meve squinted at her.

    “Have you really not figured the black knight out, yet?”

    “Oh,” she said, mysteriously, “I think that by the time we’re done, we’ll know who he is, one way or another.”

      The black knight, however, did not appear when summoned along with the other two, leaving Nolda sitting alone at the barricades. Reynard, after a while, offered to go against her, on the chance that the third contestant would turn up very late to fight the last match; Nolda agreed, somewhat reluctantly. The Baroness overruled them, claiming that there was no knowing whether their third party would actually appear. The contestants therefore settled in to wait, Reynard with a distant frown and Nolda looking moderately suspicious of the sudden delay. The crowd chattered in the background, bored and uncertain of the future prospects for its entertainment.

    “How long are we going to wait?” Giselle asked, five minutes later; the black knight had failed to show.

    “Damn him,” Meve snarled quietly, “I planned this blasted event to flush him out, and he still somehow slipped away through my fingers. What now?”

    Giselle stared at her; the Baroness sighed and said, “Well, th’ only thing we can do is declare the match forfeit; Nolda will just have to fight Sir Odo, gods help her.”

    The contestants were summoned and the plan explained to them. Nolda did not seem overly relieved at being spared the black knight, probably due to being confronted with the Count as a result. He himself appeared mildly perturbed by the unusual situation, glanced at Meve’s tense smile, and said nothing.

    “I don’t know as it’s necessary that the Count should go against me now,” Nolda said doubtfully, “To tell the truth, I’m only here because Captain Bohault - he’s my husband - said could do better than me at this game, which I’ve proved he can’t.”

    “That you have,” the Queen said, mildly amused despite herself, “But the contest has to be won by someone. If you’re intending to spare Sir Reynard a fall on account of his age, I assure you there’s no need.”

    Nolda, who appeared to be roughly the same age as the knight, frowned, apparently unsure whether the Queen was joking. Sir Reynard’s expression turned mildly pained, but he did not roll his eyes at her.

    “I have no objections,” he said, stiffly. Nolda shrugged and said, “Well, I’m game, then.”

    “Good,” the Baroness said, “We’ll start in twenty minutes.”

    The combatants rode down to opposite sides of the field, where Reynard sat on his horse, exchanging a few words with his squire. Nolda stood at her horse’s head, deep in conversation with Bohault; the occasional audible phrase and the cavalryman’s complicated hand gestures suggested a strategy session was underway. Meve struggled to appear neutral, if she couldn’t manage anything else, despite her continued irritation at the black knight’s disappearance. The effort became supremely more difficult as, from behind and under the stands, a familiar voice whispered, “Meve! I mean, Your Majesty! I need t’ talk to you.”

    She turned, slowly, forced a casual tone, and said, “Ah, Duke Brossard. I’m glad you’ve decided to join us at last.”

[carbootsoul]

i was tagged by @katarahairloopies!!! thank u :mwah:

name: leo! @/zeitgeistofnow on ao3, @lazypigeon & @timetohope on here, altho i’m considering uh switching back to not having an art blog :/ i have to think abt it.

fandom(s): ace attorney is my main one rn bc i’m replaying the games with a friend of mine and it’s reminding me how invested i am in the characters!! a lot of my recent fic is atla stuff, altho i’ve been distancing myself from the fandom bc i’ve kinda exhausted my interest in it. finally i’ve been reading a lot of mp100 fic but i don’t think i’ll ever write for it. i just love how dumb all the characters r (with the dubious exception of ritsu)

where you post: ao3!! tbh i always get suprised when people say they write/read fic on any other platform like i haven’t messed around w wattpad or ff.net since middle school... catch up........

most popular oneshot: going just by “one chapter” as the definition of a oneshot, the firestarters, bc it’s fluffy and modern au :) i wouldn’t necessarily call it a oneshot tho bc to me a oneshot shows like, one scene? so like by my definition and your sweet sweet sun makes me crazy (i wanna lay you down and see how you amaze me is my most popular!! (also @ kit u thought UR fic titles were unnecessarily long??? i’ve hit the ao3 LIMIT for characters in titles. it’s about the aesthetic

most popular multichapter fic: sdkjflakjlkj it’s two crowned kings; and one that stood alone, which is a w359 fic i wrote back in late 2017. it’s literally the last fic i haven’t orphaned from when i actually wrote podcast fic (i have 4 other podcast fics but they were all borne out of nostalgia and written after i stopped participating in the fandom). i rewrote all but the last chapter? the last two? about a year ago and i fucked up halfway through so like chapter 6 and 7 are repeated and there’s something missing but i’m too lazy to fix it. no one’s going to read it now anyway :) it WAS the top minlace fic for a little while tho which i take great pride in.

favorite story you’ve written so far: oh that’s a hard question akfsldkfj i honestly like most of them!! and i write a LOT so there’s a lot to choose from. tonight, we are young is def one of my favorites- it was fun to write and i got to explore the ways zuko and yue r similar, which i LOVE to do outside of a zukka/yukka view. you can lean on my arm as you break my heart  is one that i’m really proud of? the whole “cooking as an expression of bato’s love” is definitely some of my favorites. a lot of my ace attorney fics would be categoried as my favorites if i hadn’t improved, too, if that makes sense. like they’re no long my favorites because i can see where my writing is shitty and it bothers me, but if i had written them a month ago they’d be my favorite.

fic you were nervous to post: figures 1-5: killing gods def!! it’s a lot more purple-prose-y than most of my fics and it was also written before i’d kinda like emersed myself in the atla fandom so i didn’t have as good a grasp on the general understanding of zuko’s character as i do now. tbh it’s one i’m rly happy w tho!! i have a few people leave really nice comments on it and rereading them makes me really happy. also it was the start of me hating the position of fire lord and being at least passively anti-it in my fics.

how you choose your titles: they’re almost all song lyrics!! only 14 of my 50 words AREN’T song lyrics and about half of those are from before i started writing ace attorney fic lol. sometimes i go into a fic with a song in mind for the vibes and then i usually go with lyrics from that (like in ‘cuz we’re the greatest /they’ll hang us in the louvre), but otherwise i usually pick an artist i’ve been listening to and go through their songs until i find a lyric that fits. sometimes the lyric doesn’t even really fit the fic and i just chose it at random or because i searching up the word “fly” in my spotify library or whatever. honestly i like coming up with titles? i know a lot of fic writers hate it but being able to just use song lyrics is v soothing for me and while i know that most people won’t search out a song just bc it’s a fic title like.. seeing that the title of a fic is a hozier lyric does affect how i read it and i kinda like that.

do you outline? i outline my long form/multichaptered fics with varying strictness. usually anything over ~8k will have some kind of outline. sometimes i go into it with every single scene planned out, sometimes it’s just notes on the side of the google doc that say “it's about MORE family. about how it's not betraying your existing family to find more” and “scenes i want to include: [...]” and “vampires... ngl kinda hot.” i’m trying to outline super strictly less bc i’ve found it’s less fun? but i do try to keep a plot arc in mind. since most of my fics are more character-driven than plot-driven, that usually just means keeping track of what character development i want to happen or what is motiviating the characters. 

complete: um everything posted on ao3 i guess. also the MULTITUDE of orphaned fics out there asksfjldkj i always click ‘leave my pseud on’ so if u look up my username you see all of my fics and then a. lot of other ones.

in progress: - a fic titled ‘dad phoenix’ that is actually just a no DL-6 au with defense attorney miles edgeworth and single dad bartender phoenix where neither of them want to date for A While but phoenix gets wrapped up in one of miles’s cases. it’s about family. it’s about writing teenagers. it’s about the background franmaya which is ALWAYS what i’m here for in wrightworth fics - a franmaya werewolf/vampire au because i’m ~gay~ and love rivals to lovers and also franziska and maya both being angry their older brothers r dating each other. - my secret santa fic!! which i can’t talk about much but it does feature toph and zuko and also piandao and jeong jeong???? idk where they came from but they are Part Of The Fic Now also i forgot iroh existed for half the fic and wrote piandao as zuko’s father figure and now i’m in too deep. - a 5+1 bakoda fic (maybe a bato/hakoda/kay fic??? i need to decide. that’s part of why this fic is still incomplete bc i can’t decide which relationship dynamic i prefer) that’s 5 times bato said he loves hakoda and one time hakoda said it back. possibly i have already written him saying i love u back and i need to change the title a little. - retail au klapollo where klavier works at an overpriced boutique and apollo comes in to buy earrings for nahyuta’s birthday. klavier gives him a punch card (one that the store doesn’t actually offer anymore as a bid to get apollo to come back) and all of apollo’s family come in to use the punch card and also give klavier variations on the shovel talk/find out if he’s actually into apollo. - a LOT of atla fics that i don’t think i’ll ever finish :(

coming soon/not yet started:  - i want to write some blackmadhi bc they’re.. cute..... and it’s a good excuse to also write athena and i love her - my stuff for yueki week!!! i have NOT prepped enough but hopefully i’ll remember in time! i wrote the prompts in a way that kinda set up stuff i’ve already wanted to write (don’t look at me lol) so hopefully i’ll get at least two or three fics finished in time. - i want to rewrite the wrightworth fic i have about them not getting married bc it was interesting and i like what i wrote about but i think i could have written it better and made it more interesting. rewriting fics is hard tho bc i’m never sure if it makes sense to just edit in the new work or to repost it? and then if u repost it do u delete the old one? conflicting so i might just not

do you accept prompts? totally!!! a disclaimer tho i’m not super into writing atla stuff anymore (most of the atla stuff i’m still writing is  something i made a commitment to finish) so if your prompt is an atla one i probably won’t do it :/ basically anything else is fair game tho!! podcasts/aa/sa/uh i don’t remember anything else but like if you search a fandom on my blog and come up with more than two posts about it chances r i’d be happy to write fic for it!

upcoming work that you’re most excited about: oh huh i mean probably the no dl-6 au!!! it’s the longest ace attorney fic i’ve written already and since it’s wrightworth it’ll get more attention than any franmaya fic i write. my standards r so high now tho after getting to much feedback from atla fans... love u all... obviously i have no choice but to pressure my atla mutuals into playing ace attorney. pls ask abt it bc i WIll Give You A Sales Pitch about why you’d like it in relation to atla

tagging: i’m not rly tagging anyone!!! @deadflora if you still consider urself a fic writer also consider urself tagged! also any of my other mutuals who write fic i just can’t think of anyone rn

[badbookreviewclub]

Empress Theresa, Chapters 21-28. IT’S FINALLY OVER.

Disclaimer: If you haven’t read the previous review, you can find it here (chapters 11-20). This will contain spoilers. 

Well, the ending is finally here and holy fuck this book went off the rails. I only have one reaction to the ending of it and that’s just what the fuck. Just… What The Fuck Norman whatever the fuck you were on when you wrote the end of this book must have been some powerful shit because holy fuck. Let’s just get started and maybe you’ll see what I mean. These chapters are also completely nonsensical in how they’re put together and just so much information is shoved into them that it can get confusing. I’ll do my best to keep it clear. Chapter 21 The boat that was driven into the Exxon Maria was deemed as a terrorist attack because “the world know that this had been a terrorist bombing” (pg 321). They know this because a bunch of explosives had been smuggled onto the boat beforehand by Middle Eastern terrorists (because Norman is convinced there are no other kind of terrorists) and they drove it straight into the Exxon Maria to try and get back at Theresa for her oil mining operation. So how does Theresa retaliate? She drops the price of oil down to ten dollars a barrel. Thinking that OPEC (which I guess Norman still thinks is a terrorist organization. It’s not) is going to retaliate, Theresa has her parents moved to a safe place (West Point), and tells Prime Minister Scherzer that they have to evacuate the Israeli people now. He tells her that it will take 36 hours to start the evacuation. To remind Saudi Arabia of their deal (because there was a deal apparently in Theresa’s mind, even though there was absolutely no deals made, just an offer put on the table) Theresa raises a mountain in the middle of the Saudi Arabian desert. 

When the Israeli people start to cross evacuate via the landbridge to Crete because as it turns out, no, the island isn’t ready yet, Theresa parts the fucking sea to make giant water walls that terrorists and missiles can’t get through. Moses parting the Red Sea moment, anyone? Because of this, Prime Minister Scherzer calls Theresa the ‘Right Hand of God’. Theresa also decides that it’s time for her to head home, so the Ambassador of the United States to England asks if she would ride home on the Ronald Reagan (the same ship that led took her to the plane she was supposed to be blown up on) to give the ship her honor back. Theresa disagrees, but Steve says that Theresa should play (American) football with the navy of the Ronald Reagan against the Army (I think Norman means foot soldiers specifically). Theresa does agree eventually. 

Someone attempts to do the same drop that Theresa did when she was almost blown up and of course, rather than dissuading them, Theresa gives him tips on how he might survive. Unsurprisingly, he fucking dies. All Theresa does is say “oh whoopsy-doopsy, he fell into still water, not wavy water like I did. Must be why. Sorry that you’re dead bro. Nobody should do that again.” Chapter 22 

Theresa heads back to the United States, but in the process, HAL puts everyone in the plane into a deep sleep, including the piolets and every electronic. Somehow though, the Autopilot still works, so that’s lucky for Theresa I guess. Bitch learns how to fly a plane in under four hours. She lands it after causing millions of dollars worth of damages to the windows of buildings after flying just a little too low to them and as such that causes a lot of injuries, but she doesn’t get in trouble for that because she’s just too sweet and innocent for that. 

Chapter 23 

Am I moving really fast through this? I feel like I am. Though I will say, it’s definitely because I want to be done with this book as fast as I possibly can it’s so fucking dumb. I hate this book so much. I have never met a book that has baffled me as much as this one but absolutely fueled my anger to no end. Anyways… Theresa arrives at West Point (where her parents are) and going to the ranch house that was built specifically for her and her family. The football game takes place, and surprisingly, Theresa and the Navy lose to the Army. 48-36. I don’t know American football very well, despite living in the United States, so if anyone could tell me how good this is I would really appreciate it. 

We learn that her island is producing 3 million barrels of oil a day and by the next year is predicted to be producing 15 million barrels a day, so Theresa is rich as fuck and is going to have a monopoly on oil (what a wonderful capitalist she is). Because all the oil tycoons are worried she’s going to monopolize (she is) and then raise the price drastically, they put her into a two-year deal (bc that’s long enough) saying that the price can’t go above ten dollars a barrel. Theresa agrees without hesitation. 

It’s suggested to Theresa that she should monopolize the manufacturing industry as well, but she turns that down because it could “start a global trade war” (pg 370). 

Theresa, while being a jerk and ignoring everybody when she goes out into public because how could she possibly be expected to meet or even wave or smile at people, finally gives in and talks to 10 North Korean men (via a translator) who have brought her a PBS Documentary to show her the conditions of North Korea. Theresa watches it and is so moved that she comes down and tells the men that she’ll save their families. So essentially, this one PBS Documentary has convinced Theresa to declare war on North Korea’s government. 

Because the North Korean’s wouldn’t listen to her because she holds no power, Theresa joins the army (not really because she never ever ever ever sees combat, but she gets the titles that come with it). 

Chapter 25

Theresa gets her uniform. She specifically requests to have the male uniform because the female one doesn’t look powerful enough. She also gets men’s shoes instead of women’s shoes because the women’s would look stupid with the men’s uniform, I guess. Theresa also insists on wearing her hair down because nobody is going to say jack shit to her about it. Because Theresa got the uniform we learn that Steve has a uniform kink. “Steve thought I looked awful cute in my little uniform.  “‘Hon, you never looked better. It turns me on’” (pg 389). 

Now Norman, I thought this book didn’t have sexual content? Yet here we are, learning about Steve’s fetishes. I’m not going to fetish shame anyone, and more power to you Steve for being open with your sexuality, though I just wanted to point out that Norman specifically said this wouldn’t happen (just like the swearing). 

Anyways, Theresa goes to a meeting at the White House where she immediately becomes a five-star general, the first person after Omar Bradley died. Now I may be wrong, but Omar Bradley was a World War II veteran (a senior officer) and was Chairman of the Joint Cheifs of Staff and oversaw policymaking during the Korean War. The only thing Theresa has (realistically) done up until this point is kill off most of the population, if not all of the population. 

Theresa came up with the idea earlier on that the only way to liberate North Korea is to destroy their weaponry in a certain mile radius and then take over as their dictator for the time being until things could get set up. In a really complicated matter, Theresa sets up a plan wherein ten-miles around Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea, all weapons, planes, bombs, missiles, and helicopters will be destroyed. She works with the South Korean government in order to achieve this with HAL and so they can invade safely. 

But, duN DUN DUN! because all the weapons are destroyed, the government orders unarmed citizens and soldiers and other personnel to attack as soon as they see Theresa and the army. Because there’s 5 million of them, the South Korean army knows that they’ll be easily overwhelmed. Theresa’s solution? Take a Japanese island and move it a bit closer to North and South Korea, and then break North and South Korea away from China and move it closer to the Japanese Island. This way the Japanese Island can build a bridge over and then teach North Korea about a new government. And it fucking works. 

They invade Pyongyang after doing this and the South Korean army basically liters the city with pictures of Theresa’s face and a promise that she’s going to save and liberate them all. They drop all these pictures and promises with an airplane to hopefully quell the people’s worries. There’s a big crowd of North Koreans who are basically lining a gigantic boulevard and the South Korean’s are surrounding the tanks and Theresa, prepared to shoot anyone who gets rowdy or gets too close. Theresa tells them their leaders have left them on a complete fucking bluff, and the South Korean general who has been working with her confirms that they fled to China. Theresa is so relieved by this she almost starts crying, and then the North Korean’s start cheering and wailing and are basically so so so so so happy that Theresa is their new leader. 

And Theresa’s big speech as the new leader? She reads the first couple of paragraphs from the Declaration of Independence. And it’s a smash hit and her greatest success ever. She gives it to a translator so that the North Korean people can understand and just… “Nobody could translate such elegant language on the fly and maintain its beauty. I anticipated that. I’d given the translator the English text the day before and she worked all night at it. When I finished speaking she read what I’d said in Korean with all the emotions and nuances only a Korea could express. My speech or rather the translator’s rendition of it was a spectacular success. The crowd cheered their hearts out. Witnesses said President Stinson cried when I gave the speech. This event, broadcast to the whole world, was called by greatest achievement” (pg 418). And yes, I meant to write ‘a Korea’. That’s how it’s written in the fucking book. But the Declaration of Independence wasn’t written by Theresa and yet somehow it’s ‘her’ speech. And it’s a smashing success because fuck you. Chapter 26

Theresa sets up the South Korean government in North Korea because she can’t be fucked to actually lead it, but comes back when she needs to. In this chapter, Theresa gets really into biology and teaching HAL about biology. She also gets really into archaeology and discovers a bunch of really old Jewish scrolls but nobody can have them. They can look but only she can have them. She also finds Joan of the Arc’s remains because why the fuck not. 

Theresa also makes a mountain in the middle of Lake Michigan without consequence. This is all so they can have the Winter Olympics because I guess Mountain = Snow despite the fact that it’s summer the entire year.

Oh yeah, and Theresa recognizes that she could have thousands of lives with teaching HAL biology and learning how to do surgeries that could save lives that couldn’t otherwise be done. But she decides this is a terrible idea because she’ll end up in court if something goes wrong. 

“‘I can immobilize them like this [basically just holding their body together in a temporarily immortalized, unaging, undying stated] while the surgeon operates and saves thousands of lives.’ (Theresa) “‘And get yourself thousands of lawsuits when things go wrong. Hell the families will hope something goes wrong so they can go after your money’ (Steve) “‘You’re right. I’d spend the rest of my life in courtrooms. It’s a shame. Greed keeps me from saving lives’”  (pg 423).

The only greed keeping you from saving lives is your own. How fucking selfish of you to believe that people want their loved ones to die just so they can get some money. There are horrible people out there in the world like that, there’s no denying it, but the majority of people aren’t. You recognize you could save lives, but you chose not to because you don’t want to go to court if something goes wrong. You’re a fucking villain, Theresa. 

Because of this, I really don’t feel bad when Theresa gets hit by a car, breaks her back, and loses the ability to walk. Getting hit by the car was apparently a terrorist attack that was carefully planned because they wanted to hit Theresa. Because everything just has to be a fucking terrorist attack. But this is why Norman had Theresa suddenly pick up an interest in biology that was never ever even hinted at before. It’s so Theresa can start working on a plan to fix her back so she can walk again. And so she can figure out a way to be immortal. You’re supposed to feel bad for Theresa, but I honestly don’t.

Chapter 27 

More HAL’s show up because when Theresa was about to be blown up and she jumped from the plane, HAL divided itself into 420 other HAL’s. Now all these HAL’s are merging with people. Because Theresa doesn’t want to not be special anymore, she puts the entire world into a deep sleep under the pretense that all of these people could be another Adolf Hitler and she needs to take care of it and stop that before it happens. You know, so the logical explanation, because she can’t just put on HAL into a deep sleep, is to put the entire world into a deep sleep regardless of the consequences. Doesn’t matter if you’re in the middle of surgery or you’re in the ICU. It doesn’t matter if you’re about to die or something is happening. We’re just going to put everyone into a deep sleep because Theresa can’t be fucked to figure out a solution right now.

Chapter 28

600 years have passed and everyone starts to wake up. Everyone thinks Theresa is dead but she shows up with Steve and 420 (nice) children. All these children are geniuses and specialize in something and have the equivalent of like 10 college degrees. So in the past 600 years (where nobody aged, not even Theresa and Steve) the world has advanced massively because of the children and Steve and Theresa. 

Theresa also kept the children as 10-year-olds rather than letting them age. “I’d kept them in a pre-puberty state so they wouldn’t fool around with each other” (pg 464). It’s not like they’re siblings and look like mini replicas of you and your husband. It’s not like you should discourage incest among them because incest isn’t a good thing and can mess with someone’s psyche because it’s damaging a familial relationship by intertwining it with a sexual relationship. Not at all.

But these children, as it would turn out, don’t have a HAL. Theresa and Steve just had like 420 (nice) children I guess. No, Theresa just absorbed all of the other HAL’s and will absorb any other HAL that shows up on earth. And that’s the end of the fucking book. This shit show of a book is finally over. I hated it so much and I’m glad to finally be done with it. 

-8/10 stars. Get fucked Norman Boutin. Your book is stupid as shit and I hate it. 

[ranger-kellyn]

11 Favorite Excerpts

In honor if it being the 11 year anniversary of the first fic I ever posted, Platinum Bound, I thought I’d list out 10 of my favorite excerpts from everything I’ve posted so far, 1 from something I haven’t posted yet, and then kind of just. Talk about it~

As always, feel free to talk to me about any of my fics, no matter how old or new~ I’m very vain~<3

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1 - Come With Me - Prologue - 03/02/2015 - Completed

A day that was supposed to be filled with sorrow and mourning had turned out to be very lovely. The cold that had long persisted since November had decided to lighten its icy grip on this one day in particular. It was almost a tragedy in itself that the weather failed to match the mood by pouring a relentless downpour. Rain was fit for a funeral. Not sunshine.

The opening to Come With Me has always had a special place in my heart, and while I know my writing has gotten better since then, I always hold up this opening as like...my premium brand, I suppose.  I love the mood the prologue sets up for Siebold’s side of the story.  Mismatched weather.  His parents having the same death date.  A sense of odd relationship dynamics with them.  Clear indication that there’s going to be a lot of conflict with Jean as shown by Diantha, Siebold’d childhood friend, who has a clear disdain towards him.  CWM may not be my BEST WORK, but it’s probably one of my favorites.  ALSO....come on...the restaurant’s name is Apple of The Earth, which is a direct translation of pomme de terre, which is French for potato.  And like???? i just get a little kick out of it every time

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2 - It Takes Two - 12/16/2014 - Oneshot

Siebold chuckled.  “A water dark type?  My, my.  You’ve already put yourself at a disadvantage. Cress shook his head.  “Don’t give away your secret ingredient just yet, Siebold.  Leave something to the imagination, please,” he teased.

If there is ONE THING I LOVE it’s writing flirty banter for these two, and this fic if full of it.  My first fic for Cress/Siebold, staking my claim on the pool noodle that is this ship.  I AM the captain of this pool noodle

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3 - Second Chances - Chapter 7 - 06/14/2017 - Ongoing

“It was supposed to be me!” . . . Shaking, she stopped herself in the front hallway.  Looking over the large, glass-famed map, she felt as though she was leaving her own body as she slammed herself against it in a last ditch effort to feel something other than emotional pain.  In an effort to put a physical wound to her emotional one. 

There’s plenty of happier lines from this fic I could choose.  Ch 10 had a section I was considering instead, but I think this emotionally charged section has always stood out for me. I like to generally characterize Cynthia as someone who is in control of her emotions, or at the very least, is very good at compartmentalizing things, but here, she absolutely loses it.  No rationality.  No seeking help.  Just raw pain.  It was supposed to be me. Because it was!  It absolutely was!  In the previous chapter you learn that Diantha had fully intended to propose to her!  But was instead manipulated by her mother and manager into leaving Cynthia.  While Cynthia didn’t know that, we do, and that makes that line so much more painful to me.  I swear.  ONE DAY.  I’ll actually finish this fic.

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4 - Fortune and Fame - Chapter 1 - 03/23/2016 - Completed

“The best part of that outfit would be taking it off.” Her mouth turns into a smile. “I should think so,” she tells you.

Second person POV is a HUGE pain in the ass, but I still love this silly little fic, and I love this silly little moment EVEN MORE.  What can I say.  I love flirty banter. This whole fic was an absolute experiment, and while it certainly could be better, considering 2POV is not something I regularly work with, I’ve never been too upset with it.

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5 - Stockholm - Chapter 4 - 06/20/2016 - Ongoing

“You’re my mission and my mission alone.  I don’t need outside help,” he tells me. I catch myself about to laugh.  “Figured you would welcome it seeing as whatever you think you’re doing to me clearly isn’t working.” He moves closer, enough for me to feel the warmth of his body, but it’s only when I think he’s looking at my lips do I come to my senses, pulling my legs up to my person, and pushing back up against the wall. “I would say it’s working just fine.”

i like to think of this fic as me playing in a sandbox.  i don’t REALLY know what i’m doing, but i’m having fun, and that’s all that matters. This is a fic I had been thinking about for the longest time.  I abandoned it back in 2016.  I don’t really remember why, but I posted the first update early this year, and I just.  I’ve been loving it since.  I haven’t played in first person in SUCH a long time, it’s just nice to play in the space, and explore a darker emotion I guess.  Game verse Commander Saturn/Dawn is always a weakness of mine

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6 - Shadows of My Heart - Chapter 4 - 02/22/2011 - Completed

Looking at Kellyn, I notice that he has taken his jacket off and is now offering it to me. Shaking my head, I tell him that I can't take it, even though I would love nothing more than to take him up on his offer. He walks closer, smiling as he places his jacket over me. Now, the only thing I hear is the sound of the rain bouncing off of Kellyn's jacket, and the sound my own heartbeat. I'd have to be crazy or dead to not be blushing right now, and obviously my pulse is still going…

if you’ve followed me for a few years, you might think this is a weird pick for me.  i complain about it a lot.  i experience a lot of visceral cringe whenever i reread it (Like i did just now searching for a section i liked) But that’s why I like it.  I love having this visible benchmark of where I’ve come from, and where my ideals have shifted to.  I’ve always written Kellyn as my Ideal Man™© and in this fic he is suCH A “NICE GUY” AND IT’S JUST. SO BAD. I’M SO GLAD I’M NOT WITH THE KIND OF PERSON I USED TO WISH I WAS WITH. This fic is, at best, clumsy.  Younger me was venting a LOT of stuff. Everything I put Rhythmi through in the fic, I was dealing with irl, and NOT handling them well.  I never recommend this for reading, but I list it here because it’s like looking in a time capsule.  

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7 - Washington Blues - Chapter 2 - 04/30/2012 - Abandoned Work

Looking back up at me, the afternoon sun shines on her face.  As if I needed to be reminded that she is very pretty.  “I believe that it is too soon to be giving a definite answer, but,” she pauses to brush some hair behind her ear, “I do believe I am going to like it here.” I nod, liking the answer she has provided.  I put my pink bag over my shoulder, and step down the stairs.  “That’s good to hear.  I do hope you come to love our little band,” I say, putting a little emphasis on “our”.  Hopefully she will start using that term as well.

This fic has been abandoned since 2012, but as I was rereading it just now, I...felt a weird urge to give it a second chance?  Marching band was my EVERYTHING in high school.  It was basically my personality.  It and Homestuck.  If nothing else, I think I might give this fic a redo, because it’s something my younger self would have loved.  I had so many ideas I wanted to explore and I think it would be a fun space to explore. Just reading it I got the most tactile memories of band camp, from the sounds, all the way down to the god awful smells.  One day I’ll give this fic another go, but probably in 3rd person lmao.  Also, it’s kind of funny.  I remember holding this fic up as like.  My Magnum Opus.  I considered chapter 1 to be the BEST thing I had written up to that point. Now? It’s so fucking D RY......and no real person talks like they all do l m a o I love being able to see how far I’ve come. 

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8 - Hindsight - Sometime Feb 2014?  - Oneshot for an old RP group

This question led him to placing both of his hands in his lap.  “I would never describe her as winter.  It’s the season she hates the most.  From what I’ve gathered during our travels together, understandably so,” he answered, not meeting her eyes. 

While this fic is OLD it holds a very special place in my heart.  I had stopped writing for a while.  For about 2 years nothing I wrote ever really panned out, and joining that RP group was literally the best thing I could have done for my creativity.  It was so much fun, and I met some truly incredible people thanks to it.  Literally, everything I’ve written since I attribute to that group.  <3 I may not talk to most of them anymore, but I have some of the best memories of that time, and I just.  Genuinely don’t think I would have HALF of what I have written now if it hadn’t been for their support.  <3

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9 - Ours For The Taking - Chapter 2 - 01/28/2012 - Abandoned Work

Killing is in the nature of almost every Pokémon, but we humans have inhibited that out for the most part. It doesn't take much to trigger the instinct though. A couple kills and then they thirst for blood.

Now i know this looks like a WACK ASS PICK.  It’s been abandoned since 2012.  It’s bad.  It’s gore.  It’s bad.  But that’s exactly why I picked it.  That, and I know it would chap Farla’s ass bc she told me years ago how awful this fic was. The whole reason my writing confidence took a blow.  I can look back and know that this fic wasn’t great, but I hate for my younger self that they were knocked down like that.  You can’t learn the boundaries of your writing until you try to push them.  Maybe I could have turned into a great gore/horror writer if I hadn’t been knocked down?  Who knows?  But because of that negative experience, I now approach all comments I leave on fics with “unconditional positive regard”.  I firmly believe if someone wants con-crit they’ll ask for it, and even then, I’m not someone who is going to offer up that criticism.  That’s not my jam.  I’m just here for a good time.  This fic may be bad, but that’s why I love it.  I love how over the top, 2Edgy4me the two chapters are. 

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10 - Getaway Car - Chapter 5 - 01/01/2019 - Ongoing

Pulling away just enough to make them look at one another, Cynthia looked her over.  She was getting more drunk admissions than she ever thought she would, and she was in no frame of mind to worry about pushing her luck.  “How did that make you feel?” she asked. She let her hand trail down her arm as she spoke.  “Grounded.  Like nothing else in the world mattered except us in that moment.  I wasn’t worried about filming, deadlines, what people might say or think, or– anything, really.  All that mattered was the calm you brought me, and how without meaning to you’ve made me feel like the most important person in the room.”

It’s no secret that Getaway Car is like.  MY BABY.  This is MY FIC.  MY BABY.  I CHERISH THIS FIC FOR SO MANY REASONS. I like venting through characters, and this fic is no exception.  But I loved writing this moment specifically, because it just...I think it encapsulates everything Diantha has been looking for.  She lives a charmed, chaotic life.  Up to that point in the fic, she’s with a man who can’t really be bothered to give her the time of day, but also can’t handle the idea of letting her go.  Without meaning to, without necessarily trying to, Cynthia makes her feel like the most important person in the room.  She grounds her, and someone who lives a star-studded life needs that.  This fic is my baby.  My everything.  It’s probably what I’m known for at this point, and I’m A-OK with that because these two are my everything.  (ALSO, I specifically posted this fic when I did to get Farla to leave me a review, and had a good laugh about it when she did.  My “bat shit crazy” plot device has ended up being my most popular fic~)

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11 - Namtaflu - Chapter _ - Draft from NaNoWriMo 2019

The sound of something rising to the surface of the water attracted everyone’s attention.  Turning their eyes towards the water, one by one, countless Starmie and Staryu began to surface, floating atop the water, their bright gem center’s shining in the moonlight.  “Oh, wow,” Bianca said, holding the Audino closer to herself.  "What are they doing?” Hilbert asked, turning himself so he wasn’t having to strain to look at them.  Cheren shrugged.  “They’ve always done this.” "They’re looking at the stars,” Hilda added.  “It’s what Nona would always tell me.  She said she read it in a book somewhere.  They surface at night to look at the stars, and they’ll even start blinking here soon.”  As she said it, from out in the distance, quick flashes of red began to move along the waves, reminding both her and Cheren of fireflies from further south.  Soon enough, the entire shoreline was filled with the water pokémon blinking away at the stars, almost as if they were communicating with each other, or even something else.  A few Audino continued to sit with them, everyone moved to silence by the display, afraid to make a single noise, not wanting to scare them at all and make them stop.  The display moved in waves, like a heartbeat, ebbing and flowing.  At times they were bright enough to cast a glow onto the shore, and at others it seemed like they had collectively stopped for the night. Once Broadway and Manhattan had decided to retire for the night, the group came to an agreement that it was time they retired for the night as well.  They had stayed up long past sundown, but it had been worth every second.   

I won’t be posting this fic WELL until my three current ongoing fics are completed, but this fic is pretty much everything to me.  I first got the idea for this fic back in 2013, my senior year of high school.  I wrote the first draft my first NaNoWriMo in 2014, and did a second draft of it last year.  This fic has evolved SO MUCH, but this last draft is where I’m REALLY happy with it.  I firmly believe there’s never a “right time” to write a fic, but I also believe this fic absolutely benefited from me not posting it after that first draft.  They’re almost two entirely different stories.  The original had a lot of unhealthy relationship dynamics, and this time, i decided, FUCK THAT, and now it’s a hilda/hilbert/cheren/bianca poly fic ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I can’t wait for the day when I actually get to share this fic with the world. 

[almostkoo]

Taehyung on the Cliff (03)

pairing: taehyung x reader (platonic), jungkook x reader (platonic), taehyung x jungkook (platonic)

summary: after finding a new job taehyung finally gets into the swing of things being on the land and is starting to enjoy himself hopefully not all good things come to an end (ponyo au!)

word count: 1.2k

warnings: unedited, language, cliff hanger:)

author’s note: this took forever to get up bc of tech troubles, it’s originally a filler chapter but not in a bad way just a calm before the storm type way, anywho I hope you all enjoy

Taehyung living amongst the two of you had gone better than originally planned, his job at the antique store was bringing him in enough money to help out. Within the two months he had been staying there he already fit in like the missing piece of a puzzle.

On Friday nights he found himself wedged in between you and Jungkook to continue the tradition you two set of watching a movie and eating takeout. Most of the time it was just the two of you trading off back and forth on Marvel movies. This week it was Jungkook’s pick of Iron Man 3.

Halfway through the movie Taehyung excused himself to the bathroom, it had been about 20 mins since he had left and you were starting to get curious as to what was taking him so long.

“Jungkook, can you go check on Tae? He’s been gone for a while now.” You asked him.

Jungkook whined. “In the middle of the movie?”

“This isn’t even the best Iron Man and you know it. Can you please just go check up on him?” Jungkook stalled, not moving.

“Fuck it. I’ll go see what’s going on.” You got up off the couch making your way to the bathroom. You stood outside the door, taking a small breath before knocking quietly.

“Tae? Are you okay?”

“Yeah” his voice came from the other side of the door. His deep voice sounded raspy like he had been crying.

“I’ll be out in a second.”

You lowered your voice before speaking. “Taehyung, if you need to talk Jungkook and I are right here.” The door slowly creaked open revealing Taehyung there, eyes red and cheeks tear stained.

“I am okay. I just needed a moment to myself.” He said, dropping his head down.

��Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you?”

“I” Taehyung paused. “I don’t want to burden you with my issues.”

“You’re never going to be a burden to me so spill.”

“Spill?” Taehyung questioned.

“Tell me what’s the matter.”

“I miss home. But I know I can’t go back. I miss the familiarity and comfort that comes with being there. I know this is all a part of change but it doesn’t fix the hurt I feel in my chest.”

You sighed. Everything Taehyung had said to you, you understood. When you first started college you spent many nights crying yourself to sleep from homesickness. Missing your room, in your parents house, your moms cooking. If you didn’t have Jungkook you really don’t know how you would’ve made it through first semester.

“I know things seem rough now. But you have my support and Jungkook’s too. Hopefully having people around the transition from home to here will be easier for you.” You said, resting your hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. He let out a breath of relief pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Now tell me how to wipe that frown off your face.” You said.

“Can we go to a drug store?”

“What like Walgreens or something?” You asked. Taehyung nodded. You checked the time, it was only 8:00 you both could make it to the drug store a few blocks before it closed.

“Sure let’s go.”

The walk to Walgreens took about 15 mins and during the stroll there you still didn’t quite know what Taehyung wanted. He looked at the sky as you two walked keeping his thoughts to himself. You had left Jungkook resting on the couch finishing the movie, you knew he wasn’t about to get up any time soon.

You entered the store. Taehyung stopped and looked around reading the signs. He took off in one direction as you followed behind him. What made Taehyung dart off in the store, you would soon find out.

Taehyung stood in the middle of the aisle looking around. You followed his line of sight to see he was staring at the section of hair dye.

“Why didn’t you say you wanted to dye your hair?” You asked him.

“Because I’m nervous. Last time I was on land there weren't things like this available. But the other day at the store some kids came in asking me about my hair and that’s how I find out more about these hair coloring products.”

“Well it’s a limited selection here so choose wisely.” You said. Taehyung reached and picked up a container of black hair dye.

“Is this any good?” He asked.

“It’s black hair dye. It’s manic panic. I think it’s okay. You know if you go black it’ll be hard to lift it back up in case you want to color it again.”

“That’s okay. I don’t want to stand out anymore. Black will work.” He made his way up to the front, you trailed behind him quietly as he paid for the hair dye.

You quietly made the trek back to the apartment. Taehyung happily swung the bag in his grip. You had a question on your mind but had been hesitant to ask him but you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Tae, what did you mean you didn’t want to stand out anymore?”

“I just don’t want to be noticed anymore. I want to blend in. I just .. I feel like I get weird looks at the antique store. It makes me nervous so I’d rather just try to look less like myself.” You were confused by what Taehyung exactly meant by his words. But prying might make him feel bad so you didn’t want to continue. You got him to smile and that was the goal.

You got to the apartment back in one piece. Jungkook was still on the couch this time watching Captain Marvel.

“Fair warning” you said rummaging through the kitchen drawers “we're gonna need new kitchen gloves.” You grabbed the yellow rubber gloves out of one of the drawers.

“Wait what are you talking about? That’s our like .. 5th set this month.” Jungkook whined.

“Okay and I’ll make sure to get another pair. Tae wants to dye his hair and I’m gonna make sure it looks nice. I would like to make sure our friend looks nice.” Jungkook sighed.

“If I have to let my fingers prune up because you forgot to get gloves I’m gonna eat all of the fancy cereal you like to eat.”

“Try me and I will pour every container of banana milk that’s in the fridge down the drain.” You said, you walked down the hallway to meet up with Taehyung in the bathroom.

Just as you finished putting the dye on Taehyung’s hair there was a knock at the door. You heard Jungkook let out a loud groan from the living room.

“How do you like it?” You asked him. Taehyung examined himself in the mirror, looking over the blue now stained black locks. His signature boxy smile appeared on his face.

“I love it. It’s me, in a strange way.”

“Taehyung, you have visitors.” Jungkook called. You and Taehyung exchanged a glance. You walked ahead of him still wearing the stained rubber gloves. In the living room stood two tall men with colorful hair. Their lines of sight passed you and you looked directly at Taehyung who stood behind you.

“Hello brother.” One of the men said with a grin.

[theshinsun]

brace urself, this is for the writing meta ask: 2, 6, 7, 14, 17, 19, 20 (if you need a direction for this... I always wanted to hear more about Bring Me Roses), 21, 22, and 24 bc i'm nosy and still very into your craft. thank you buddy!!

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

I'm so excited/terrified to finally start my knb college AU. I've been sitting on this idea for almost two years I'm so ready but at the same time I'm so not ready.

The gist is it's every single self-indulgent, chaotic, projection-ridden idea I've ever wanted for these boys all rolled in a big ball of shenanigans and character growth. It's a beautiful mess and I can't wait to make it happen as soon as ANR is done.

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

This is gonna come right the fuck out of left field, but I love writing Himuro. I have so much fun writing just... snark, and that boy is the perfect outlet, there's no bottom to that salt mine. I remember getting a similar kick out of writing Tsukishima in the past, I just live for sassy dialogue. It ain't much but it's honest work.

7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

My style is very present, I think (which is funny bc there was a time I never would have considered writing present tense) focusing on what's happening and how it makes the character feel in the moment. I like to write specific, detailed imagery, but I try to keep it short and relevant to the scene, so I can move along and focus on what's important. I wouldn't call it fast-paced, exactly, but it is pretty to-the-point. And I think, based on the feedback I've received, that people who read my fics might agree with that. I've heard that my writing is very personal and character-driven, and I think that might be a byproduct of the time I spent writing in first person. Now I write almost exclusively third person limited, but I still like to get in the character's head and tell the story from their "point of view", I guess. 

14. At what point in writing do you come up with a title?

It depends almost entirely on how quick I'm able to come up with a pun lol. Sometimes a fic has a title before I've even written the first sentence, sometimes I have to scramble for something, anything in the last few seconds before I publish it. A lot of the time I'll have a working title like "that one really fucked up aokaga oneshot" for pretty much the duration of writing a new fic… and a lot of the time I'll end up using song titles, even though we're past the days of writing songfics. 

17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?

I think, to a degree, people get different things from my writing than I intended -- which is good! The way a piece of writing can be interpreted completely differently depending on who's reading it is one of the best things about being a writer tbh. I think people might be surprised, though, how different my fics often turn out from how I set out to make them. These days I've usually got a pretty detailed outline for what's going to happen, but even with all the preparation in the world, sometimes a fic will take a sudden detour I didn't expect, or something I wrote before will take on new meaning and change the direction I meant to go in. This definitely happens more with my longer fics, but there are times even with oneshots where I look back at what I set out to write, and what I ended up writing, and they're completely different.

19. Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

I tend to write a lot of scenes with characters talking while in the car (cars are an intentional motif in ANR, but in something like GWGE there's not actually a lot of narrative purpose to this) I don't know why, maybe because it's a convenient way to have characters talk one-on-one, or maybe it's because I've had a lot of meaningful conversations while riding passenger, couldn't tell you, but it's cropped up more than once in my current fics and will probably feature in some of my upcoming ones (the college AU strikes me as a likely candidate), and I think it's worth taking note of.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

SINCE you mentioned Bring Me Roses, and I never really get to talk about it, pls allow me to go on a lengthy tangent about my most underrated fic of all time. (Like 90% of the reason it's still incomplete almost two years later is because the response when I posted it was so underwhelming, but I still stand by it. Someday I'll finish it, hopefully, if just for myself.) 

I'm so fucking proud of the language in this one. It's not perfect, by any means, but the imagery in my opinion is very strong, and almost every line of dialogue is saying something without really saying it. There are frequent allusions that something happened to Aomine's mother, relatively recently, and that Momoi is worried about him overworking out of grief or guilt, but none of those things are ever actually stated. There's also some pretty heavy implicit flirting between Aomine and Kuroko, even if it's a bit unusual and they're both playing it coy at this stage, the chemistry is there and the interest is mutual. And of course, because it's a florist AU, the flower symbolism… I spent so long researching bouquets, plant husbandry, how to prep and preserve cut flowers, and of course… flower meanings. The main ones that keep getting brought up are dahlias, which have just as many negative connotations as positive ones, including betrayal and instability, but also dignity, creativity and change, and come in a variety of colors shapes and even sizes (Islander or "dinnerplate" dahlias were definitely going to feature in part 2… as well as the connection between them and Aomine's mother). I know a lot of these things might not hit as hard because there's no actual payoff (yet), but still, in terms of "show don't tell" and setting up things to come, I don't think I have a single better example in my fic repertoire, I really went all out with this.

It's a shame I never got to follow through, but I got the impression that there just wasn't a lot of interest, and even if that alone is kind of a dumb reason not to continue, after I worked so hard to pull off what I did, the lack of response really killed my motivation. (I wonder sometimes if it would've been better received if it was an AoKaga fic… actually, I don't need to wonder, I'm sure it would have been, but that's not the story I set out to tell and I'm not going to change it.)

21. What other medium do you think your story would work well as? (film, webcomic, animated series?)

Oh, I'd love to do some of my fics as comics. I even tried it at one point; GWGE was going to be a comic originally, before I decided a multichapter fic would probably be less exhausting (the first couple pages are still floating around in my art tag somewhere, though this was back in high school so the quality is… heh).

22. Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?

Yeah… I reread a lot. Usually while I'm working on a new chapter, I'll go over the ones that lead up to it to make sure I don't repeat the same phrases too much and that the continuity lines up, and I'll also admit to going back and just reading my own fics for fun. Sometimes the only one who's written exactly what I want to see is me. 

How I feel about them depends on the fic… some of my older ones are a mix of nostalgia and cringe tbh, but there are some I still genuinely enjoy revisiting from time to time. 

24. Would you say your writing has changed over time?

Oh hell yeah. For… better and worse, honestly. I feel like I've lost some fluidity and confidence in my writing, and it sometimes turns kind of stilted, so I try to overcompensate which results in pretty jarring changes of tone, but at the same time, I've gotten much better with rhythm and syntax, my grammar skills are always improving, and I'm able to incorporate a lot more intentional meaning and subtext without always stating things outright.

[pandemicthestory]

1: introduced

The love story of a teenage girl trapped inside during the end of the world. Daily chapters during the coronavirus pandemic. 

Neon orange nails tap at a laptop, chatting with someone across the internet. This manicure is fresh, except no one has left their house in weeks, so we know she did it herself. 

ADMIN_E: just sent your essay back. Gonna be 300 bc of the works cited 

GUEST48: oh come on 

ADMIN_E: i need the money, and you have more money than you need

GUEST48: ugh pls just tell me this is gonna get me an A in AP US history, i need this grade to get into duke 

ADMIN_E: lol, you’re actually worried about getting into college?

GUEST48: uh yeah, aren’t u?

ADMIN_E: Sweetie the world is ending. Who the fuck cares

*buzz* 

She looks away from the computer and down at her cracked iPhone 7. Another thing she’d like the cash to upgrade. The bigger issue: it’s basically impossible to scam in peace with her group chat constantly blowing up. But what are your best friends for, if not to provide human contact during an infinite quarantine? 

Madison is a self-proclaimed burnout, who used to be the carefree athletic type until a soccer injury sent her spiraling into an emo-grunge moment. Zoe is probably going to run for president and also be a doctor at the same time, unless her weird senior boyfriend convinces her to leave on a weed farm (which he would totally do, wow Gabriel sucks). And Olivia is sort of the one who keeps everyone together, obsessed with being a friend. She’s the one who religiously decorates your locker on your birthday even if you insist that it’s not necessary and that actually you’d prefer if she didn’t because it’s embarrassing. That’s Olivia.

MADISON: holy shit did u hear 

OLIVIA: I was just about to text you guys. My mom just told me. R u ok?? 

ZOE: wait what’s going on?? wtf tell me rn !! 

*knock knock*

The bedroom door opens without waiting for an answer.

“Emma?”

Emma Bradford, a skinny 16-year-old wearing an oversized hoodie and boxers, slams her laptop shut with way too much force. Hopefully it isn’t broken, she’d have to find a different way to cheat the school system for money. 

“Mom, what happened to our deal? If we’re going to be stuck at home together, you have to pretend I’m AT school. As in don’t speak to me before 3:25 PM.”

“You can’t say I didn’t knock. I knocked.” 

“It’s not about knocking, it’s about--wait why are we even having a conversation? See you at dinner. Or not. Just go please.” 

Emma jams in her air pods and pulls up her hoodie over her head so you can’t see the top of her face. She’s used to hiding her identity, and even in quarantine, old habits die hard or whatever.

Mom sighs, she doesn’t want to be here either. Out of all her kids, Emma is the truly difficult one. The smart one who uses her brain for all the wrong reasons. And wow those nails are intense. Traffic cones. Kids these days. 

“I just came to tell you that...well we just got a phone call from the school district. It looks like classes are going to be canceled for the rest of the year. Zoom classes too. Everything. I’m sorry.”

Emma’s stomach drops. Canceled? Like, wait, canceled? Canceled. But...how will she earn hundreds of dollars doing writing assignments for her fellow dumbasses?

“Seriously? How is that possible?! Don’t I need like, an education and shit?”

“Government spending is affecting everyone in strange ways right now. And wait a second, I thought you’d be happy. You always tell me how much you hate high school.”

Mom raises an eyebrow. Emma hates that. If her mom starts digging around in her personal life again, she’s going to find some weird shit. Not just forged essays, but, well, let’s just leave that all buried for now. 

“I do hate school. And I don’t care if I never go back. But I do need some boundaries, so please get out.”

Her Mom closes the door. We can’t see, but that eyebrow is definitely still raised. Something’s up with Emma. Her mom just has no idea of what it is, or how big it’s about to get.

Emma examines the group chat, having missed over 80 texts since she last checked it five minutes ago. 

EMMA: i don’t have time to read all that but, school, right?

ZOE: How can this happen? I already have a prom dress and it was final sale!!

MADISON: u don’t HAVE to go to prom this year zo- when gabriel goes to school next year u guys will prob break up anyway and then you’ll be free to go to like 10 more proms w guys who haven’t been arrested

ZOE: He was not actually arrested and we are doing long distance we already discussed it! 

MADISON: you don’t think they’ll cancel prom do you? if i have to do prom over zoom i’m legit done 

EMMA: So, prom is what you’re all worried about?

A brief pause. 

OLIVIA: Well what are you worried about Em? Or aren’t you

EMMA: Oh well idk. I mean i’m not that worried

EMMA: I just mean like it could be worse

As soon as Emma sends this, she doesn’t know if she actually believes it. She doesn’t know what’s coming. 

ZOE: Sure, I guess...

MADISON: UR BEING RLY WEIRD EM 

EMMA: Ah you’re right sorry, it’s just a weird time. I love u guys btw 

Everyone sends their signature heart emoji. Zoe: pink with sparkles. Olivia: yellow. Madison: small red with red dot underneath. And Emma sends the black heart, because she really needs to start acting like her normal self as people are getting suspicious. Her best friends know almost everything about her. Almost. They don’t know about what she’s doing on the side, or what she plans to do with the money. 

Emma takes a deep breath and reopens the laptop. No school is going to be a problem. No school, no assignments, no college applications, which means: no income. And no income means no leaving...no running off with...him. 

Him, the eternal problem. Him who won’t get out of her head no matter how much she curses the day he was born. Him from that other school that’s annoyingly far yet still too close for her own good. Him who knows her favorite candle scent. Him who rests his hand in the space between her hip bone and her belly button. Him who lied. Him who was forgiven. 

Him. 

She stares at the interface of her ghostwriter page on the screen. This was good while it lasted. She’ll just need a new plan to get to Him. 

Emma is about to shut the computer when: 

*Ping* 

New Assignment.

What? Every student at Harrison Ford High School got the same announcement today that she did. School’s canceled. No more class, no more losing sleep over getting into Duke. What a random life goal. 

Seriously, what the hell could this be?

Emma clicks the link to open the new assignment, to learn that it isn’t a new assignment at all. It’s a drawing?  

Circular lines, deflated shapes encircling each other. Like oil in water. The picture could almost be, well it looks somewhat like...a map. Holy shit, this is a map.

The lines of the map are messy and hand drawn. As if someone made this in a rush. Or maybe they were confused about where the path leads. But underneath the twists and turns, there’s a note: 

before you run away, come find me

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 23

Chapter Summary -  Tom discusses his plans to talk with Danielle with Benedict before he meets with her.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

TH – Danielle is coming home this weekend, she was asking if I am around because she wants to tell mum about her going away for another three months, what do I do?

BC – Why are you asking me this like a teenage girl?

TH – Ben, please!

BC – Are you working this weekend?

TH – No.

BC – Well then, go to your mums and spend time with her.

TH – What is Dr Prick is there?

BC – You need to accept he probably is going to be if she is home for the first time in a few weeks.

TH – How will I not kill him? After what he did, or didn’t do. He doesn’t deserve her.

BC – Being in prison is not good for your career, and after what you told me, he’s not worth the jail time anyway. Just show her you are the better option.

TH – Right.

TH – How?

BC – I don’t know, you know what she is interested in, use that.

TH – I just told her I will be there to help her. Why am I so scared?

BC – I have no idea, perhaps because you lost your balls over the summer when you wore that fucking awful t-shirt.

TH – Cumberbatch!

BC – Well you asked. What’s the game plan?

TH – I have no idea, what am I going to do?

BC – You really have it bad, don’t you?

TH – Why is this happening?

BC – Now you are really like a teenager, look, Tom, you are human, you want someone who knows you for the ass you really are, and despite your greatest efforts to make her run for the hills, she is still there willingly, and that actually matters to you. She is understanding and motivated, she doesn’t need to be mollycoddled and she is independent, everything you want.

TH – I am sensing a ‘but’ here. What if she doesn’t see me like that?

BC – Then you have to accept that.

TH – I could ruin everything.

BC – You said to me recently what your greatest fear is, yet you are willing to risk not being with the woman that could make you happy? Are you sure you mean what you said in that interview?

TH – There’s a huge difference.

BC – I don’t see it. She is something you want, and you have to do what you always do Tom and work damn hard to put everything you have into this.

TH – You make it sound easy.

BC – Nothing in relation to love is easy. You think marriage and having children is easy? This is the hardest fucking thing I have ever done in my life. Sophie and Kit are everything to me, but there are still days I am thinking “How the fuck am I supposed to do this?” It is never easy Tom, the best things never are.

TH – Very philosophical Benny.

BC – Damn right, I am the brains of this outfit after all.

TH – I can sense your smugness from here.

BC – Good luck Tom.

*

“Hello.” Tom jumped slightly, not expecting Danielle to be so chirpy when she opened the door to him, before giving him a tight hug. “Long time no see, stranger.” Tom took a moment to hug her back, loving the smell of her strawberry shampoo. “I know, a busy woman now, hopefully, you still have time for us small-timer’s.” He smiled, earning an elbow to the ribs for reciting back the lines she had said to him after the Avengers movie.

“What sort of mood is your mum in?” “A good one.” Danielle winced slightly. “She will want this for you, Elle.”

“I just don’t know how I am going to tell her, she has been so good to me.” Danielle sighed.

“It’s best to just come out with it, she’ll know as soon as she sees you that you want to tell her something, it is best just blurt it out,” Tom advised. “I spent about a day trying to find a way to tell her, by the end she was so frustrated with me, I could have told her I murdered half of my college and she was just relieved I finally said it that she didn’t care what I had to say.” Tom put his arm around her shoulder as he edged her towards his mothers, partly to urge her on, sensing her reluctance and partly because he simply wanted an excuse to touch her. “What am I going to do with Mac Tíre?” She looked at her dog, who was standing at the gate to her back garden, wagging his tail cheerfully. “I can’t just leave him.”

Tom looked at her. “Elle, if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to do it, I’m sure you can go back to the ambulance depot and they will welcome you back with open arms, but if you really want this, you are going to have to step out of your comfort zone, and yes, that means leaving Mac with mum while your away.” “He’s going to think I am abandoning him.”

“You know mum will look after her. Do you really want this?” Danielle sighed. “Yes.” “Then why the excuses?” he looked down at her, noting the look on her face. “What are you scared of?”

“I’m not…” When she looked at him, she ceased. “What if I fuck up?” “Then you'll ruin a multi-thousand dollar scene, and perhaps be the reason a famous actor is permanently disabled.” She stared at him in utter horror. “I am joking Elle.” “I…” “You need to calm down, surely you are not the only safety officer on set.” “Yes, I am.” “Who do you liaise with?”

“Stunt crew, stunt coordinator, emergency personnel, director, producers, everyone involved in the scene.”

“With that many people involved, you are not going to singlehandedly ruin everything, so relax.” Tom smiled kindly, opening his mother’s front door. “We should have a drink to celebrate your new-found success.”

“Can I ask you a weird question?” “Shoot.” “What is the deal with crews going out and drinking themselves stupid, I mean, is there ever a situation where the ‘getting to know one another’ doesn’t involve copious amounts of alcohol?” “Seldom, those are usually the serious meetings, and they include eating in overpriced restaurants. Why, did you get drunk and think you screwed up?” “No, I was actually over cautious, I didn’t want to have anyone have anything to say about me, so I slowly sipped three drinks all night.” “Smart girl, I feel like sometimes they use those situations as little tests, especially in big productions like Marvel, to see if you blurt out anything when you are drunk. Being cautious and tight-lipped goes a long way in the film.” Tom commended.

“And what does lunch dates tell them?”

“I suspect that they use them to see if you drink at lunchtime, as though trying to figure out if you have an over-liking of alcohol.”

“Ah, I see.” “You seemed to have some fun on your nights out.” “I was being polite; there are a few nice people, but like every other job…” “There are ass-lickers, brown-nosers, and egotistical idiots? The industry is full of them.” “I am hoping to channel my inner you.” Tom frowned at her. “Be nice to everyone.” “Some people make it very hard to be.” “That’s an understatement.”

Tom took Danielle’s hand in his. “You ready?”

“She’s going to hate me.” Giving her a small squeeze. “Never, none of us ever could, we adore you Danielle, and you know that.”

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (19 [INTERMISSION 2])

A/N: cut to me rubbing my little fly hands together — i am SO excited to get this ball started that i’m literally boutta post 2 chapters, so bear with me here ,., also, posting them now because i’ve gotta go to work at around 11 and then dont wanna do posting/edits at like, midnight lmao 

bc that’s when im just gonna. keep writing., im so excited for this arc y’all im literally shaking

WARNINGS: massive descriptions of disassociation, being lightheaded, mentions of being dehydrated, mentions of not eating, threats of being pushed down the stairs, bandage mention ig? — i think that's all on this one!!!

Words: 1181

AO3 link!

MASTERPOST! <– look here!! for the longterm warnings!! including sympathetic Deceit and cursing/swearing!

enjoy !!! <3 <3 <3 <3 

“You’re in my world now, not your world~”

“Why are there so many stairs?”

“And I’ve got foes on the other side~”

“Wait, that’s not the lyric.”

“Sit down at my table~”

“.....Fine.”

“Put your mind at ease~”

“I put a spell on you~”

A small, tired laugh. “If you relax, it will enable me to do….”

“And now you’re mine~!”

“...Anything I please. I can read your future~”

“Be prepa-ared!”

“I can change it ‘round some, too~”

“Trust in me~”

More laughter. “Ironic.”

“Fuck off or I’ll drop you down the stairs. You started it!”

“I know, I know. It’s all almost done. I only hope Thomas is-I hope he’s okay.”

“Eh, who gives? He’ll be fine soon enough, don’t worry your bandages off. Come on, your gown is waiting.”

Thomas flicked his feet left and right, watching the television while paying absolutely zero attention while laying on the couch upside down. After failing to summon the Sides that morning, he’d gone to watch television, and found himself rewatching The Office again in a semi-binge state. It’d take a solid four days to watch it all but it wasn’t like Thomas had the motivation or drive to do anything else, despite the looming deadline on the new video’s script.

On any other day, he’d be able to hear Virgil screaming at him, Roman rushing around with ideas, butting heads with Logan over rewrites and edits. Patton’d pop in with some supportive words and an offer to make dinner sometimes.

But now? Now he wasn’t getting anything. It was as though all of his sides had clocked out at once — even Deceit and Remus weren’t delivering input. And whatever was holding back any of the other Sides he had (because, lets face it, Thomas had no idea how many Sides there were in total, especially not after Remus’ introduction) wasn’t letting up. So, using every ounce of deductive reasoning he had left, Thomas figured that he just. No longer had a personality.

The more he thought about that, though, the more he considered how irrational that would be. But he didn’t care enough to believe a separate reasoning? And didn’t have the focus, creativity, or capacity to think of a different explanation.

So, The Office. 

He had been sitting on this couch for upwards of twelve hours. Probably bordering on sixteen to seventeen hours, but he couldn’t count. It was long past sunset outside, perhaps the stars were out. 

An empty pizza box was sitting on the couch beside him. At least he had the common sense to eat one meal — an extra large pepperoni meal, but a meal nonetheless.

What the heck was happening?

The phone on his chin, balanced there out of boredom a few hours ago, buzzed and nearly fell off. 

Thomas’ hand smacked up to it, causing his phone to fall and hit his nose. That caused a chain reaction of him falling over, first sideways onto the couch, then rolling off the couch all together and onto the floor. 

So much for “nothing happening.” Thomas groaned as he pushed himself up onto his elbows and grabbed his phone, which had slid beneath the table. 

He flicked it on.

JOAN —> IMG0492.JPG

Ah. Thomas squinted and opened it. 

It was a Sanders Sides meme, one of the new templates. He covered his mouth and snorted with laughter, shaking his head. 

Another text from Joan dinged.

JOAN —> you alive? you missed prime coffee shop writing hours

Oh, heck. Thomas mentally chided himself. He and Joan were going to hunker down at a cafe and hash out the new script today to get it done before the deadline. Of course he forgot, like an absolute doofus. 

He began typing out a response. The thought of lying flitted through his mind, the excuse of being “out of it” wasn’t exactly the best reason. He thought for a second but he couldn’t even think of an adequate lie. Wow. Even Deceit had clocked out. Thomas probably should have tried to summon him, now that he thought about it. A little past time, but, oh well.

Alright, the truth. How the heck was he supposed to explain that he couldn’t think? Thomas pushed himself off the floor on his elbows, but winced as the weight seemed to leave his head almost immediately. He kept a hand on the couch as he sat up on his knees, one hand running through his hair and then resting on the back of his neck. 

How long had he been sitting upside down again? Goodness gracious. Part of him wanted to be worried about the repercussions of not having a coherent thought process, but the other was kinda singing Disney songs on repeat. 

In actuality, the most coherent thoughts he had held all day was the nonstop playlist of Disney songs that seemed to run through his head. 

At least that meant Roman was still kicking? That’s what that meant, right?

Oh, yeah, the text. Thomas pushed himself up onto the couch, ignoring how both of his legs seemed to be asleep, buzzing with the prickly pain of pinched nerves and a lack of blood. Lack of blood. All the blood was in his head. Heheheh. 

Gosh, he should sleep soon, he was getting light headed. Had he had any water today, actually? The thought of water made his throat run dry — no, no he hadn’t.

Focus, Sanders. He bit his tongue and typed out a response. Using both thumbs, because for some reason, his single-hand coordination was not working.  

THOMAS —> Yeah. Sorry about that, I think I’m sick or something. Haven’t been able to hold a thought all day and my head is super light.

JOAN —> thats fair, do you have tea or some soup? :( if youre that sick do you wanna push the script deadline a day or two? 

What did Thomas do to deserve Joan, they were always such a beacon of sunlight. He smiled to himself and responded as fast as he could while typing like a technologically illiterate fool, one letter per minute.

THOMAS —> That would be awesome. I’ve got tea, too. Think I’m gonna go to sleep soon though

THOMAS —> Could we push one day? And if you’re still not doing anything on Sunday, we could reschedule 

JOAN —> okay, I’ll let the team know. you get some sleep!!

JOAN —> I’m down for prime coffee shop o’clock on Sunday. 9 am at brewed awakening?

JOAN —> if you need some soupy soup let me know 

Then they sent a cat gif with hearts from Giphy. What an angel. 

Thomas exhaled and leaned back on the couch. He put his phone flat on his forehead, then crossed his arms. That was the best news to come out of today, honestly. One day was better than no days. And if he and Joan could mix up some good ideas on Sunday, then all the better. 

Hopefully that’d give the Sides enough time to figure out what the flip was happening in there.

taglists!

chivalry taglist: @starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda @askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil @theobsessor1 @ninja-wizard101 @fandomsofrandom

general taglist: @jemthebookworm @okay-finne