#only editing stuff that was already written and ready (the first two chapters of my fic that i posted)

[yellowloid]

FINALLY managed to make some progress on my wip thank GOD and all the saints in heaven for this christmas miracle

[n7punk]

"Lightbeam" Fic Notes

Pretend I posted this *checks watch* two days ago when I finished Lightbeam. I got busy lol and I was playing Stardew Valley.

Epilogue Life:

:) You’ll have to wait

Chapter 1:

⦁ This fic was originally written back in February after Embrace the Blame in preparation for the Bang. TLDR is we needed to have the fics ready early so the artists could then illustrate them, so I just wanted to write the whole thing at once because that’s how my projects work. I actually finished Embrace the Blame a few days before I posted the final chapter(s) because I had been posting it on a schedule and I could just continue using that as I worked on this to make the gap in my posting overall smaller. I think it actually took me like two weeks to write this, which is why there was a week and a half between the end of EtB and start of MMaM (and of course I had to write MMaM some too, but I already wrote the first few chapters ages ago). It’s also why there was almost two weeks between Start Your Engine finishing and Our Love Is God starting. I wrote the entire rough draft in February, and during that break I edited and finalized the fic for posting in May. I also just had a lot going on then, but yeah this fic has been slotted in between my others over the last few months.

⦁ Adora’s father’s information was left blank because she was an immaculate conception. More on this will be explored in the sequel fic <3

⦁ Norwyn is officially unnamed in the reboot I think but he’s one of the higher-ups at Mystacor. In the OG he was Shadow Weaver’s mentor.

⦁ Adora’s weather powers come up a lot in the first few scenes and I wish I had more “diversity” in magical incidents, but the problem is, as outlined later in the fic, Adora has no idea the stuff she’s doing (see: her coffee) and the weather stuff is pretty much the only consistent thing she has identified as maybe her fault. There was initially also mention of a drowning incident she miraculously survived when learning how to swim that even she knew was weird, but it ended up cut for flow.

⦁ In general, magic is normal, inevitable, and accepted, but there are still some “normie” communities that pop up in small pockets and want nothing to do with, say, a lesbian drowning the upper east side by accident on a Wednesday afternoon because she’s sad. Legally they can’t do anything to “discriminate”, but it’s a culture thing. Catra faced constant bullying and Adora was only safe because she didn’t even know if she had magic. Weaver moved there after getting cursed from her own incompetence because they easily believed the story that someone else cursed her and welcomed her in as a victim with open arms. Her understanding along with rejection of magic made her the perfect person to point to justify their ignorance (see, even a once-sorceress can be turned on and reject magic when she realizes the dangers. Etc). The main reason she moved there was just because there was less magic in the area, though (part of the reason a normie community popped up there), so it made it easier to manage her curse because it was weakened.

⦁ Oh boy, the Whispering Woods section. So first, I should say the version in the fic is pretty much what I originally outlined. The only big difference was Adora was supposed to find out about Razz from her research and went seeking her out rather than going there following her “mom.” I couldn’t figure out what that research would look like, though, so I went with the mom thing because that aligned with her backstory. My big problem was that I got a new idea once I got to writing the woods and the new idea was bad but it felt like reversing progress to go back to the original thing. The new idea was that Mara was an ancient She-ra who fell in love with Light Hope and, in her grief when Light Hope died, accidentally transformed her soul into a guardian spirit who would watch over future She-ras and “keep them safe” so they don’t get in a position where they, yknow, accidentally warp time and space and the laws of physics again. Light Hope was the one who actually sent the lightning, sent Catra, and protected Adora when she was drowning when she was seven. Adora would find the hut, would talk in circles with Razz, spot Catra who immediately fled, and get so frustrated and sad it started pouring rain, which forced Catra to flee back in through the window and into Adora’s arms for safety from Razz but she refused to change back because she was mad at her. While waiting out the storm, Adora eventually had the idea to google guardian spirits, found different methods for getting in contact with them, and tried meditation. This is around when I realized this whole set-up was bust, but the idea was going to be that she got in contact with Light Hope, had her powers she wasn’t in touch with explained to her, and told Light Hope to stop the wrath of god shit. Light Hope’s existence kind of wiped out everything I had planned for what was supposed to be the actual fic with her learning her powers. This new backstory changed everything and ruined what I actually wanted to write about, so I went back to my original outline. It’s way better for it and it meant I actually got to do the slow discovering and mastering of her powers I had planned, but boy can it be a struggle to dig yourself out of a hole and lose “progress”.

⦁ Catra eating the pie was actually a joke from before I started working on the fic. The original joke was that she was legitimately visiting the woods just to “steal” food from Razz and this was a thing she did on the weekends sometimes because they all lived nearby. Razz was fine with sharing with her cat “guest” in this version and seemed oblivious to the fact she was a person. This got changed because 1) Even if I changed it so they were all living near the woods and there weren’t barriers to Catra and Adora spending time together early on when she’s reluctant, that then posed the question of why the hell Adora hadn’t tried visiting her mom’s place already if it was easily accessible, 2) while I think Catra taking the pie once she knows about it is in character, her ever wandering through the woods enough to even find Razz to steal from wasn’t, so the basic set up didn’t really work, 3) the final version, with Adora’s powers going haywire and bringing her there, is way more impactful and in line with the fic’s story. It gives Catra a motivation to keep in contact with Adora after this point and illustrates definitively just how powerful Adora’s powers can be when she’s still in denial about the “warping the fabric of reality” thing.

⦁ Agatha Trunchbull was the basically demonic head mistress in Matilda, which, from my understanding, had a fucking torture closet she would lock kids into, in addition to regularly assaulting them like when she clobbered a massive serving tray over a kids head. I haven’t actually read the book, I just knew someone who liked it growing up and I went to the wikipedia to be sure when I went for the reference.

Chapter 2:

⦁ Adora’s spiraling and exaggerating, but empaths do need to actually hold the hand of someone and open their heart to feel their energy, so Adora isn’t likely to ever cause an accidental concussion as long as she’s careful about who she holds hands with.

⦁ “Catra sends her a condescending look that makes Adora blush for some reason.” It’s because you like belittling, idiot.

⦁ Catra’s kitten form is partially a result of trauma and partially natural self-defense. Having such a small form allowed her to hide and slip away when she needed safety from Weaver/bullies/etc. The trauma getting a little better is why she was able to “grow up” a little but she was right that it’s permanent in the sense she will never be able to have an adult form.

⦁ The meditation was actually a lot more helpful than Adora gave it credit for, but again, lack of self-awareness.

Chapter 3:

⦁ Adora’s whole thing about “oh, I’ve never actually experienced this thing I’ve heard talked about” is definitely a realization I’ve had a few times in my life, usually in some medical context though, like when I found out I’d never had an actual runny nose because I’d never breathed through my nose before.

Chapter 4:

⦁ Catra is being especially cuddly as a cat because it’s an “acceptable” way to get snuggled up close so she can then transform and properly cuddle Adora.

⦁ Catra showing up at her door as a cat was literally just because I wanted an excuse to write more kitten!Catra I was ready to be done with her yet lol.

⦁ I’m planning to write a sequel fic set a few years down the line once Catra and Adora are married, but as you know if you’ve been following my Tumblr, I have like three active WIPs demanding attention, so that’s going to have to wait.

⦁ This isn’t related to the fic so much, but this was my first time ever doing a fandom event! There’s definitely zines and stuff I would have wanted to participate in before but I only ever learn about these things after they’re already over lol. I loved being part of this Bang and oh my god do I love the illustrations so much Karo did an INCREDIBLE job. I knew I wanted to participate in the Bang the second I heard about it, but picking a fic was hard. I really wanted to write something in canon but didn’t think any of my current OotW ideas would be long enough for the word count requirement. At that time, I had a canon divergent AU ready to go, but it was Make Me A Monster and I wanted to do something happy so… yeah that was a no go lol even if someone might have wanted to draw the cybernetics. Lightbeam ended up being the perfect option because it was 1) fairly short for an AU but long enough to meet the requirement and post over the week, 2) light-hearted, 3) had plenty of scenes I thought someone might want to illustrate between Adora’s powers and kitten!Catra, 4) I’ll be honest, it kind of felt full circle, because…

⦁ At the start of this year I posted freak occurrence: confluence as a celebration of over three years of posting Catradora fics and finally getting to my fics being 1% of the entire Catradora tag on AO3 (next goal is 1% of the SPOP tag — JOKE THIS IS A JOKE THAT’S NEVER HAPPENING). It featured tons of my Catradora couples from various AUs — including one AU that hadn’t been posted yet. I’d had the freak occurrence fic idea for three years, so whenever I came up with a new AU I’d picture its Catradora in that scenario, which meant I’d already thought about what Lightbeam’s couple would do in that scenario even though I hadn’t written it yet. Getting to post it as part of the Bang was so exciting and I hope it lived up to expectations! The version that was featured in that fic was a few years older, when Adora had a better grip on her magic, but you’ll see a bit of that in the sequel fic.

Meta:

Playlist

Upcoming:

I have a one shot I’m probably going to post in the next couple days and then I’m aiming for Slipstream (my hacker AU) but uh….. Something is coalescing that may also demand attention. Stay tuned ig lol

[somany-fandoms-solittle-time]

“What’s so Special About the Moon?”

Jamil Viper x MC(insert character Mac)

(Ch. 1) – Ch. 2 – Ch. 3 – Ch. 4 – Next – Previous

This was originally supposed to be, like, a single chapter hurt/comfort before my OC (Mac) and Jamil as a song fic where they berate him and then sing a song referencing the moon… but then I had feelings and it’s becoming a more in depth character study between the two. Don’t worry! By the end of this mini series, there will be song lyrics and more sappiness… it’s just now that I’ve finished both Book 4 and Book 5, I need to reorganize the events and specific and whatnot. Some quick housekeeping as always: I tried to make Jamil to encompass both his dark & mysterious villain persona ALONG WITH him practically being a fucking child so that’s why I wrote him like *this* so yeah… I’m moving around the timeline so that Yuu/MC (aka Mac) has the weekend to GET THEIR SHIT TOGETHER LOL, Mac is about 19-20 (haven’t decided yet) and uses mixed pronouns as a heads up, Ch. 2 has a 1st draft written put still needs to be typed up and edited. If you see a typo NO YOU DIDN’T!!! This one of my first times trying a different writing doc that isn’t Google (cuz fuck Google) and it’s a little weird to get used to and edit stuff. It’s beta-d in the sense that licking the spatula while your mom bakes cookies and claiming that you helped… literally only a few paragraphs were checked over y’all.

Quick shout-out to @krenenbaker and @twst-beam for inspiring my writing thus far (and sorry for taking so long to post this lol!)

I’ll be releasing some type of overview of my OC eventually, but take these snippets as they go while I fall back in love with writing. You’ll meet Mac in full when xey are good and ready… anyway, please enjoy Chapter 1 of my new fanfiction, “What’s So Special About the Moon?”

“Here. You can use this one,” Jamil directed towards the plain (compared to the rest of the dorm) laundry… mat? There were several industrial sized washer and dryers, a couple moderate-sized one’s that would fit a regular apartment complex, and a long wall designated area for hand washed items. Jamil was keeping the door prompt open with his hips; his slight frown of concentration and the flick of his Magic Pen were the only signs of the current spell he had going. Turning around, MC was slightly surprised by the massive piles of fabric that was being corralled in via multiple a massive sheet tied to multiple brooms. They still couldn’t fully grasp the concept (and power) of magic and seeing it so casually performed on a day-to-day basis was kinda daunting.

“Thanks again for letting us use the space along with showing me how to properly clean all these fancy duds and whatnot.” the Ramshackle Perfect awkwardly trailed off. Their focus was split between stealing peaks at the Scarabia Vice Warden, not wanting to bother the already busy Sophomore, and surveying over the dusty, damaged antique pieces the two stripped from the halls of the previously abandoned dorm. Rugs, carpets, curtains, furniture covers (in varying state of disrepair) dulled of their once rich and vibrant color. The patterns were a mix of stuffy academia and the quiet comfort of a grandparents cottage living room. Both extravagant, yet understated. It’s a style lost to time, but not quite a revived ancient aesthetic.

At this point MC was fully lost in thought; they desperately needed to clean, fix, organize and decorate the dorm in preparation to host so many guests. Even with his limited memories, they had a feeling they’d never hear the end of it from his parents.

“Don’t worry about it much.” Jamil said, interrupting their musings. “Honestly, I’m doing this as much for myself as I am helping you.

With a flick of his wrist, Jamil organized the seemingly random crumbled piles of fabric by condition, color and use. His movements while cleaning were quick, smart, and efficient-- all while patiently showing Mac which order to start in along with the best way to clean them.

“Ya’ know…” MC broke the relative quietness between the two workers, “Even with everything thing that happened over break, I understand why Kalim still trusts you; I almost can believe that you’re not that bad of a guy.” Jamil gave xem a startled (and exasperated) look, but they continued before he could respond: “I fail to see how helping the person who ruined your ‘world domination’ plans—”

“They were hardly World Domination level!” He quickly snapped. His embarrassment led to him tugging his hood further down his face, teeth slightly clenched, and dilated eyes as MC continued listing all the ways he’s “helped” them out.

The magic-less Perfect laughed to themselves the more conflicting emotions flew across Jamil’s face. Eventually those same emotions were compressed behind a cold, smooth mask. Limestone slabs and stiff mud brick walls were swiftly constructed between the two working-class students. Something about it didn’t sit right with Mac.

“Hey I’m not saying what you pulled wasn’t a dick move! But you’re also not the first overly-traumatized teen boy I’ve had to deal with… and between what you’ve said about yourself, plus thing’s I’ve heard and seen, I’m starting to think you’re not nearly as complicated as you think you are.” The longer they argued *to* him, the more Jamil’s mask began to crack; there were a few holes in his walls he didn’t account for. Xe’s a tad more observant than I remember, but weirdly just as persistent, Jamil internally rolled his eyes.

“I could still change my mind and send you back to deal with the Pomefiore Wrath(tm),” He mumbled while gracefully lugging the newly cleaned (and damp) furniture coverings into an empty drier. Despite his harsh threat, MC still remembered him assuring the other this laundry room was only ever used by him after Kalim’s parties.

The large machines and larger working space was specifically added for the servant to clean and repair any decor or Asim Family Treasures when Kalim’s recklessness caused a larger mess than usual. This meant that Mac and Grim (who was originally supposed to be helping… where the hell was he anyway?) could do as many loads needed without worry. On top of the borrowed space, the Housewarden himself had cheerily has assured them, his Oasis Maker would replace all the water used ten times over!

Mac’s thoughts were interrupted once again as Jamil relented, “I told you, I’m doing this to help me.” After receiving an unconvinced eyebrow raise, Jamil began to explain, “Kalim might’ve announced us as equals but I still have a job to do. If he got sick while spending Allah knows how long in a dusty, dirty, shabby condemned building like Ramshackle I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“It’s not nearly that bad anymore!” the sole-human resident of said dorm argued, but was quickly shut up with a tired gesture towards the untouched loads of laundry left to be done.

“On top of that,” Jamil smirked “Even a common peasant like myself wouldn’t sleep in a rundown garbage heap if I can help it.” His smirk slowly slide off his face from his face as the insulted Perfect almost ripped the handful of soapy doilies, that they were previously scrubbing by hand, as xey prepared a retaliation.

“OK, first of all! This whole Inferior-Superior shtick isn’t going to prove your point. If I’m being totally honest, I’m pretty used to the bratty, arrogant attitude of teenagers by now (even if I wasn’t Leona is a thousand times worse).” They turned their full body to face the 2nd year boy before continuing the assault. “Secondly, even just doing the bare minimum would’ve been fine, considering I’ve slowly been deep cleaning them place room by room. This is just last minute cleaning considering I wasn’t expected to host six extra people in two days.”

The shock of Mac’s care and attention to detail couldn’t win over Jamil’s newfound freedom to be right… and sassy while doing it. “Keep in mind you wouldn’t be the only one having to deal with Vil. His expectations are much higher than my personal standards—”

“Getting there!” MC interrupted again. “It’s not like Vil and whoever else couldn’t magic things better or get things done over at Pomefiore.” However, their fire started to die down with their obvious lack of understanding of magic. Not that Xeir level of intellect ever stopped them from talking out of their ass during debates… even if this wasn’t exactly shaping up to be anything like Debate Club back home.

“Not the point!” Mac built back their steam after thoughtlessly shaking off any internal distractions. “Third of all,” Jamil groaned not-so-quietly, “third of all, you didn’t have to show me how to do it. Nor did you have to continue helping me. There’s only so much I could pay you back in favors and it’s not like you’ll make back the time and energy spent. You’re obviously a bit of a piece of shit but I don’t totally blame…”

Jamil suddenly gave Mac his full attention. He smoothed any emotional tells from his face and readied himself to actively dissect what ever left xeir mouth and any messages in between the lines. The silence prompted Mac to drip extra sincerity as they begin to ramble without thinking.

“… I get why you did what you did. You’re not totally forgiven, but it’s not like I’ll hold a grudge over you forever. Whenever I joke about Winter Break I thought you knew it was just that: a joke.”

The two stared at one another for a few beats. Jamil betrayed nothing that he was thinking, but Mac could practically feel the exasperation flooding off of him in great waves. The disbelief pushing and pulling off of him, despite remaining stone cold to zeir admission. So, of course, they continued with slight for fever:

“Yeah, okay, you held us all prisoner, enslaved via hypnosis your entire dorm, and nearly killed multiple students. Twice.” Mac cringed at their own blunt statement, “… But why would you go as far as you did, if you didn’t care! What your parents, and more specifically your culture, put you through wasn’t fair—but you obviously still love and cherish them!”

At this, he seemed to get even more guarded. It felt patronizing to be hold how he supposedly felt or why he should feel a specific way. They hadn’t been there. They hadn’t grown up as a Viper in the Desert, constantly reminded by Kalim’s Mirage of wealth what he could never have. They didn’t know the FIRST thing about the Scalding Sands—!

“… How do you know anything about my parents? Did Kalim--?!” He choked out infuriated at the mere implication.

“Relax Viper! It’s all in the Secret of The Ooze™”

“What?”

“Never mind…”

The usual absurdity of MC’s references (much to xeir chagrin that no one seemed to understand them) Jamil allowed himself a shadow of a smirk. Right about now they’d drop what they were saying and instead empathize with him over terrible bosses. They’d both fall back into a familiar pattern of quiet understanding while making playful small talk; maybe Xe’d make a remark over how “hellish” the desert temperature is and moan about being “a poor Northern forced into the sun” before dragging them both off to grab an abominably sweet drink that Kalim would still put sugar in. Xe had always been could at mediating with the other students at NCR.

However, they didn’t drop it. They continued to push him… especially when they realized that he expected the conversation to have ended and started to relax. Xey pushed and pushed and pushed. Finally, they had circled back to him rebelling from his status.

“What? You think I’d be Happier staying a lowly servant?! I’d rather cut my own tongue out than remain bending to Kalim’s will for the rest of my days.” He huffed, still not stopping his assault on the pile of laundry in front of him.

A frustrated sigh left Mac as Xey tried to get their point across, “THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M SAYING!… Obviously, you don’t love being forced into child labor or having to pretend to be something you’re not, but that doesn’t mean you’re totally being honest with yourself either. Rebelling adolescents often do a complete 180 of who they once presented as in an extreme action to feel validated.”

Jamil scoffed in indignation at the impromptu therapy session he’d been forced into.

“Just because you were forced to lie sometimes as ‘Servant Jamil’ doesn’t mean those memories or feelings weren’t authentic!”

“My Childhood, my Pride, my ENTIRE LIFE was stolen from me before I could even open my eyes, Mac! Who could cherish that sort of future?”

“I’m not disputing that! I’m not trying, in any way, to imply that what you went through didn’t fucking suck. But just because you’ve started saying the quiet part out loud doesn’t mean you’re being totally honest either. Switching one mask for another just means nothing has changed but your ability to bitch about-it to the kid you literally Grew Up With, Jamil.” A tired resignation was growing in their eyes as they headed to the end of xeir rant.

It was clear MC was starting to speak in circles and xey weren’t going to be able to get through to them. A heavy weight sunk deep in their chest, slowly sliding to xeir stomach the more he misunderstood the magic-less student. I saw him drown in the depths of his own helplessness and self-pity, but even after he’s been pulled out it’s like he can’t help but dive back in for a swim. It was a suffocating thought while Mac watched as Jamil once again went stone-faced… Like what he was about to say would be his final shield before walking away. It’s a shame that the Ramshackle Resident had become too used to throwing bombs over walls and blowing verbal shields to smithereens after months of being stuck in Twisted Wonderland.

“I’m not sugarcoating or bowing down to anyone anymore. I won’t bite my tongue. I won’t put on a Happy Face to Kalim’s idiotic, half-thought out ideas again. I’m slowly gaining my freedom, something you clearly don’t understand. Just because you’re as blind as he is doesn’t mean anything! What more could you want from me?!” He hissed his final insult before finally stepping away from his station. Not leaving the room, he aggressively got himself a cup of water from one of the sink and gulped the unfiltered water down.

“Just because you’re not hiding your bitter, knee-jerk reaction from an unfair world doesn’t mean you aren’t still hiding away and lying about your more vulnerable emotions.” Mac whispered in an emotionless tone. “Cutting a part of your past off and pretending it was never there is doing yourself a disservice and lying to those that still care about you… And there sure-as-shit isn’t much that I hate more than a Fucking Liar.”

. . . . . .

The lacy doilies sat in a sudsy basin, left forgotten as the two students stood a mere paces from each other—both maintaining an uncomfortably intense eye contact. The sloshing thump of the washers and stirring hum of driers harmonizing were the only song to accompany the two’s stare down. A short hiccup as Mac took a drawn out breath was the only reaction between the two of them. The combined heat of Scarabia’s sun (barely past 10am) and the humidity of continued use of machinery didn’t help the suffocating air in the wide laundry room. Not to mention the loud, stifling silence to boot.

MC usually held back such honest commentary (not that they weren’t blunt) unless Xe deemed it necessary: think high stakes and a sense of urgent drama. But something about Jamil and Kalim’s situation reminded them of himself. The two’s intertwined dance of class, history, loyalty and betrayal, friendship and loss, and such overwhelming guilt reminded the dimension hoping stranger of home. Whatever that meant.

But this was no time to get lost in their own problems and Trauma’s. They’d went too far (again) and that means xey should be the bigger person (again) and deescalate the situation before he hated them (AGAIN). Which means, MC would be the one to break the silence and run away again.

“Ya’ know what? Grim’s probably burned the school down already. Don’t worry about,” Ze gestured blindly to the numerous stations they’d started, “this mess. I’ll rope my little Rat Gremlin and the Freshies into finishing this up. Hell, I could probably convince Rugs to pitch in for lunch or something. Bully the Music Club with helping in exchange of random sheet music I still remember from home.”

Their rambles became more spastic as they noticed Mr. Sugar, Spice and Not-So-Nice break out of his own trance and try to reply. “Seriously! Just enjoy the break… Not that it’s my place or responsibility to be butting in anyway. I will be back in, like, 10 minutes and from here-on-out minding my own damn business. Sorry. Whatever. See you sometime after Sunday, I guess?” Their entire monoluge Mac was slowly backing out of the room before turning around in xeir spot and just short of sprinting their way out of the dorm. A few passerby Scarabia students stopped to eavesdrop on xeir muttering… watch them leave.

Without getting a word in Jamil stood unmoving, watching the Ramshackle Perfect leave swifter than the desert wind shifting the dunes. Almost on auto-pilot, he simply left to go back to his room and do as he was told; enjoy his break. His day off. The day he could do what he liked and didn’t necessarily have to prioritize work. A day he spent working to help and assist the pitiful, magic-less loser that was dropped-kicked into another reality and forced to play nice with a University filled with overpowered and hormonal teenagers while having no way home… And in return was insulted, psychoanalyzed, and thrown aside before he could get a word in edgewise.

“Son of a STREET RAT!!!!!” It was clear he’d need a few hours to calm down before he could even think of trying to enjoy the rest of his Saturday off.

[claudiajcregg]

Tell Other People About Your WIPs

make a list of all your WIPs with a brief description of each and then people can ask you questions about them and then tag other people.

Tagged by both @onekisstotakewithme and @miabicicletta 💜💜💜 Thank you, guys <3 I don't know who to tag that hasn't been tagged already. Interested? Tag, you're it! :) (Please do know that there are no set sections. Pick whatever you want. I went the deranged route.)

I have an outdated WIP list, and many others unaccounted for. This is just a selection of stuff I could see myself posting or editing/retooling to write something new. I love talking about my WIPs, about as much as I hate being perceived because they are not remotely interesting. (I also love knowing which ones people are interested in! I have an incentive to work on them!) (Instead of snippets, part of my feedback loop is sending actual rough drafts to get a sense of whether it's worth working on more.)

Multichapters, different levels of completion.

S5 Pregnancy AU. My main WIP. Can you believe I’ve had this idea for a year… almost to the day? I’ve been stuck since November bc I don’t know how I want this one to end, beyond a birth. (As I’ve mentioned in the past, I feel like this has legs to become a fluffy universe. I have ideas! Timelines!) Gist of it: CJ gets pregnant circa Zooey's kidnapping. How does it change S5? It's less angsty than you think.

Campaign bars, aka campaign conversations sometimes happened at bars in the 1998 campaign. Fun stuff. I need to pick it right back.

What Once Was Ours or the IM AU (2021), aka IM ends with a breakup. Not a WIP. Not a UFO. A secret third thing. (“Finished” but not edited, and I’m doubtful people would be interested. Probably bc of some bittersweet ~memories~ attached to it. I mean, I shared a third of it to discord and people couldn’t care less, at least after a while. Now, better IM AUs are being posted these days; I'm not in a rush.) 33 chapters. 150k words. I do reread it every once in a while, and I cannot put it down. But its 'age' takes me aback. If things had been different, I'd have posted this in H2 2021/Q1 2022 (or even the planned Q2-3 2021). But alas.

The “Almost Ready, question mark” Category

Another SVD prompt meme claim: what if CJ has the crush first. The thing is, I tend to write her as having a relatively obvious crush on him at first until something makes her wise up. So this is just some ridiculous, post-first-meeting thoughts. Most of it was written in one sitting! It kinda fits with something in the campaign bars fic, too.

Post birth, hospital story: A couple of hours after their bb girl is born. Pure fluff. Recently reworked it to make it less wordy. Still failed, but it’s better focused now.

Many ficlets – the few I did post on Tumblr that haven’t been posted to the story I’m collecting them in, plus a couple more. I'm thinking the ice skating one, Jan 22, a few post-eps I wrote last year, etc.

Ambitious Projects I don't think are happening right away (or ever), but probably have a detailed outline somewhere

(I put this up instead of last, because the next category has faves, but it's also a long one.)

Danny is back a bit earlier on s7. Toby leaks (or tries to leak? I always wavered) the shuttle to him, as he and CJ are getting closer.

Simon lives. How does his relationship with CJ evolve post-honeymoon phase? What is it like when Danny returns?

You’ve got mail AU. This outline had two ways the climax could go. I had fun.

Epistolary collab (?) fic. Probably an X + 1 fic. The only one with nothing written; don’t rule out writing it individually at some point.

And because this is so long already (but not as long as it could be)… A few more under the cut – more "I just want to make sure I like them" and "this meme reminded me I meant to pick those back up." And they are still not all. (How do you summarize seven years of writing?? I've only posted 20-something of them, lol.)

“Almost Ready (but I feel like I want to make changes to them) (might just redo them altogether)”

Haunted by the Notion, 2007 edition. My beta Ruth suggested this when she edited the other story, and I wrote it around then. It’s another Christmas dinner at Filomena, and, eight years later, things are different. I feel like it hits expected beats, and is just missing some oomph. Maybe. (As much as I do like it, half tempted to make it 2009. Or later.)

Heaven’s here…: A interrupted proposal. I’ve written many proposals over the years, and I love toying with different ideas and setups. Danny takes the lead here, but I’ve been intrigued by the idea of having CJ do the final twist.

5 to 6 am 'me' time. Another story inspired by last year’s rewatch that I wrote right at the start of it (so Jan 2023?). It has five short parts with five different years of what CJ describes in the pilot as her “me time.” This is one when I think one per year would be fun, but I don’t want to repeat myself.

One bed, “sexy” edition. An AU to a sort of AU (one of the drabbles from this summer) and… it's what it says on the tin. The world does not need to read my attempts at smut. If I didn’t put it in the previous category, it’s because I am not sure that I want to post it. (All the previous attempts are locked somewhere; unfortunately, someone loves this one and noticed when I tried to do that, lol.)

First baby kick: I remember writing this while in grad school (so, late 2017? First half of 2018) but I lost it, along other fic, when my laptop had to be reset because I used Bear to write back then, but didn’t have sync across devices. I rewrote it, and I feel like it's not the same, but still. It's sweet! Includes: Danny talking to the baby, domestic fluff, and… baby kicks!

“This meme reminded me they exist and I love them, so don't be surprised if they are posted before anything in a previous category”

(Lbr, if I added something about them in this post at all, it’s because they sparked some memory.)

Mosaic broken hearts: CJ, circa S4, jealousy. Prompted by a former fandom friend, back in my productive era (first half of 2021; before that friend just ghosted me.)

I can’t believe I captured your heart (pancake breakfast, three words and eight letters). For a while there, I edited it so much but then I fell off. iirc, it was part of some morning-related prompts I saw around that I tried to fulfill in 2018? 2019? And they had like internal progression. But this one was the best of the 3-4, and I kept tweaking it.

Green light of forgiveness (IM-ish) — there are many other IM/IM-Tomorrow snippets I’ve written over the years. I’m not sure if this one makes much sense, but I liked it enough.

Distance — I recall liking this one! Might have to bump it up. CJ is in Africa, Danny is at the Farm and sulking because they left off on some sort of argument. There is some Danny-Abbey friendship goodness here. I even have a second file that is “Distance - shorter version (it’s not)”

Danny writes fiction, shows it to CJ during her pregnancy and she’s into it. Technically written. I would probably try to take another stab at it. Third time might be the charm?

San Andreo phone call/fallout from ID. I just had the idea of CJ reaching out once things calm down. This is one of those fics I’ve written a version of every year or so, but I think there was one I liked quite a bit.

Terrible taste in men — a run-in with an OC ex of CJ. It was so dumb.

Fka Impatience - actually beta’d three years ago (by that fandom friend I've mentioned twice before… actually, three times) and “done”. I just think I’d change so much about it these days. It started being something else but ended up being a CJ-Toby friendship story in which they have lunch and catch up. But I would want to rewrite most of it now, and not just because it’s from like… 2019 (but finished in 2021).

I forgot this one initially! he's passing by, rare as the comet in my sky - 2? 3? times CJ thinks she sees Danny somewhere, and one time she does. (Which tried to work in the 'I remember shunning you' line.) I even wrote some sort of sequel later! Probably useless.

I said I would post a lightning round with fics that are either also done but not ready for me to mention them, or just… not done at all. The length of this post and how much I've spent on it is embarrassing. To give a general overview: in line with the nonsense I've been mentioning, includes phone calls at the end of S7, also a few friendship-focused fics around that time, too; present-day stuff; anniversaries; Hollis fundraisers; weddings; many ficlets, introspective thoughts, a “yes day” fic that's super sweet but needs better dares, the third memoir idea (the original one!!!!) that I had three years ago… And those are mostly the ones I had preselected, lol.

If you're interested, I can screenshoot this part in the notes app if you message me!

Anyway, this is embarrassing, and the worst part is that it's not all. fml.

[shig-a-shig-ah]

Hey Ghuleh! I love your writing so much ♥️ I was wondering if you ever feel like you're writing at a snail's pace; spending hours writing but only ending up with smth like 600 words? And if you do experience that, how do you overcome it? Thank youu 🙌 xx

Oh man, I might be the worst person to ask about this because I’m a slow fucking writer, but I can try and help.

First step is to figure what’s making it slow-going. Are you editing as you write, and thus taking a long time to perfect every sentence/paragraph/whatever as you go? Are you just spending a long time staring at a blank page trying to figure out what’s going to happen next? Are you just easily distracted?

I struggle with a combination of all of those things to be honest, and while I know the advice is generally to not edit as you write, I’ve found that writing a shitty rough draft and then editing a ton isn’t actually faster for me than just editing as I go. (Though the caveat here is that I do edit a fuckton in general. I read through and edit every one-shot or chapter I post probably ten times minimum, and if it’s a chapter of Bad Ideas or a more substantive fic with some emotional component or whatever—i.e. not just pure smut—that’ll usually include at least a little reorganizing or rewriting.) So, personally I have just expected that I’m probably going to spend 15-20 hours on anything over 3k words in order to get it where I want it to be. Usually each of my writing sessions involves rereading and editing what I’ve already written, and then adding some to it, so honestly I can spend an hour writing and only add a paragraph or two to what I already had, but what’s already there also gets better each time. (The downside is that if I’m not careful, the beginning/middle will be more polished than the end lmao.)

If you’re struggling to know where to go next, though, then outlining can help, and honestly sometimes if I’m stuck on a specific part of what I’m trying to write I will go sit in the shower and try and problem-solve, like literally having a little conversation with myself about what’s not working that has me stuck and what the solutions might be. Not too proud to admit that this sometimes involves acting out dialogue to try and get a really clear idea of what needs to end up on the page, lol.

And if you’re easily distracted obviously you can try some standard stuff like installing a blocker for certain sites or putting your phone in another room, but another thing I think is really helpful is just to figure out when you’re best able to focus. Knowing your ‘peak hours’ is really helpful for maximizing any kind of efficiency—I’m a morning person and write SO much faster in the morning than if I’m trying to work on something at night. So I think having a brain that is fresh and ready to go is clutch, honestly.

Anyway, that’s my general thoughts. If you have specific struggles then I’m happy to weigh in more too but I think this is the most general advice I have.

[idleglowingpixels]

It's 12am and I'm sitting here debating which fanfic WIP I should work on again q-q

The two Monster High AU ones could honestly be released interchangeably so I could work on either or (I mean, Trapped In The Rain happens after BOTH of these fics in the timeline so it's not like I'm hyperspecific about chronological releases). Though the Clawdeen POV fic takes place a few months before the start of freshman year and the Frankie POV fic starts even further back, but is mainly based on their first week's experiences being in a public high school for the first time, the beginning acts almost like a prologue. Also debating whether or not it should be written in 1st person to emulate Frankie's narrations throughout the G1 films (Also kinda reminds me of Cady's narrations in Mean Girls 2003, it fits the "fish out of water" trope so well).

But the PPG fic is JUST A SMIDGE AWAY FROM THE BEST FREAKING PART FOR ME TO WRITE IN THIS PARTICULAR BATCH as if Chapters 8, 9 and 10 weren't already absolute BANGERS to work on and have at least one scene that made me go "THAT'S THE ONE DUDE I AM COOKING" y'all are not ready cause I'm sure not lol. And I literally have like 2 1/2 chapters left to write before getting to my editing drafts, and I've been dying to share what I've got and finally update the fic after...I don't even wanna know how many months. :'D Definitely over 6 at this point, I am SO SORRY.

The last thing is a super secret 4th thing (and no it's not the potential Miraculous rewrite, that's debatable on whether I'm making it as of right now but we'll see cause I still have enough ideas and interest for it, just wanna get through this long-term WIP first). I'm probably not gonna share it on the blog or my AO3 but that's only because it's a different kind of WIP (also different fandom than any of my previous works) and idk I'll just keep it at that. But I've been working on it 5+ years (even earlier than the first XXY drafts back in 2019) and my LORD do I want to just complete the mfkin first draft that I'm only like 50 scenes away from finishing bhngvfdcfgvbdcx ugh

Also I've been drawing a lot more lately so expect some MH and/or PPG art whenever I complete more than a sketch lol. I LOVED making my little title cover thing for Trapped In The Rain back in October (the perfect excuse to let my shipping brainrot go feral) & sharing my AU version of Stitched In Style Frankie art (which btw idk if I ever mentioned it but my cousin is the GOAT and bought her doll for me as a Christmas gift!!! She's hanging out in-box with my G3 dolls). Having art to go alongside chapter updates for XXY and oneshot uploads for my MH AU is something I have a lot of fun making and it's something I would like to be consistent with moving forward. I will also probably make art covers for Chs. 1-7 of XXY too because I had felt like doing it at the time of uploads but just got too busy with life stuff. Last year was awful for me besides these fics and my blog. :') Also istg I need to make that Instagram account for my art that I share here! Maybe someday, if I do I'll let y'all know.

[funtimemoth]

Son in the Woods Chapter 1

I have finished chapter 1 for my new au Son In The Woods

I finished it last week but just needed to edit and revise it a bit, but here it is

Hope you enjoy :]

Ranboo walked along the sidewalk towards school, the worst place to be honestly.

The teachers were trying their hardest and so was he, but there's nothing you can do when you are diagnosed with what he has. Yeah he was smart but that didn’t do much when he can’t even remember most of it an hour after he learned it.

The first thing that was written down in his “memory book” was that he was diagnosed with something that caused him to have major memory loss, so bad that some days he couldn’t even remember who he was. The only way he could remember was by writing everything he did down in his book, sometimes though, when he would try and write what he did down, it would never make it to the page because he would forget it the next minute.

Because of this it was a struggle to get through school, and after a while his parents had enough and abandoned him.

Ranboo jumped from foster home to foster home, for about 8 years Ranboo moved constantly, never staying in one place for more than a few days. Most of the homes he didn’t remember at all, he would just wake up and find himself at a new home.

That was until when Ranboo officially turned 16, and he was brought into a new foster home.

All Ranboo could remember was a man with a green hoodie, and a smiley face and that was all, all the pages that covered that day were ripped out, the only thing being left was a small smiley face on the next page after.

Ranboo never found out what happened in those few months, but from the whispers that he heard at school, apparently the guy was arrested for child endangerment, child abuse, and drugging him, and it appearntly wasn’t the first time he was charged with it. He guessed this time they had actual proof.

Now here Ranboo was, two years later, finishing up his last year of high school, and having to find a place to live.

He was currently looking for houses to rent, Tommy, his best friend, told him to look on this side of town, since it was closer to the school and he wouldn't forget and get lost in the middle of the woods again.

Ranboo shuddered at the thought, that night he did remember what happened, being chased by wolves and almost dying was shockingly a moment that he remembers very well.

Ranboo stopped when he saw a house that caught his eye.

A little black and white house, with a porch and a tree in the front, he asked the woman that he guessed owned the place to show him the house and she gladly accepted and opened the door to the little home.

It was decent inside, nothing some paint and furniture could fix, they went to the back and by god it had a beautiful garden in the back, with flowers littered everywhere. He asked how much the rent was and…

Ranboo blinked and stood now in a black bedroom, boxes of his stuff lingering around the room, he sighed and searched around for his book, finding it on the mattress of his bed. He opened it and went to today's date and read over it.

“I found a house for rent that I liked, at a good price too, the nice lady said that rent was due at the end of the month.

Also I met my new neighbors! They seem like a nice, kind couple.”

Ranboo read over what happened after and smiled, apparently, hiis new neighbors were two women, one named Niki who owned a bakery in town and always seemed to have something sweet being made, the other named Puffy who was not only Niki’s girlfriend, but also runs the daycare in town.

Ranboo let out a yawn and noticed on his phone that it was getting late, tomorrow was Friday, he had a test and sighed before going to take a shower and get ready to study like hell.

Ranboo walked into class, eyes bags under his eyes as he sat down in his usual seat, already starting to fall asleep until he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Morning Ranboob!” Tommy yelled getting up and sitting next to him in someone's seat, “Man you look like hell, stay up trying to study everything again?” Ranboo sighed and nodded, “Yeah, didn’t really help at all, don’t remember anything last night.” Tommy smiled and dropped a little, his eyes holding a sympathetic look before it was gone like nothing happened.

“Aw cheering up Ranboo! Anyway, how do you like the new house? Kinda guessed you would pick that one with your obsession with balck and white.” “It’s not an obsession, I just like black and white a lot.” Ranboo argued, chuckling.

“Oh, have you met Niki and Puffy yet?! Oh man they're so nice, Niki sometimes gives me shit if I don’t swear which is bullshit! And Puffy is so good with kids, did you know that I work with her?” Tommy rambled, smiling as he pulled out a cookie, breaking it in half and giving it to Ranboo.

“Wait what? You work at the daycare in town with Puffy?” He asked surprised as he gladly accepted half of the cookie, popping it into his mouth.

“Yup! How else am I supposed to learn to raise Shroud? I sometimes take him to the daycare to play with the other kids.” Tommy said, mouth full of cookies.

“How is Shroud anyway? Last you told me he was learning how to count to read and write more right?” Ranboo asked, pulling out his water and taking a swig, “Yup and he’s learning fast, not gonna lie really proud of my boy go!” he said, puffing out his chest with pride and causing Ranboo to chuckle a bit before falling silent.

“...Tommy, have you.. You know… even told your dad about-``''He’s not my dad Ranboo.” “O-oh right sorry…. Have you even told Phil about your Shroud?” Ranboo asked, as he looked over to Tommy with considered eyes, Tommy going quiet as he looked somewhere else before meeting his eyes. “Nope, not planning to either.” Tommy said before the bell rang and he returned to his seat as the teacher came in, ending their conversation.

Ranboo blinked and the next thing he knew was that Tommy was running towards him yelling his name.

“What?” “Ranboo! They fucking stole you’re book, They stole it!” “No, nonononono.” Ranboo murmured as he ran in the direction that Tommy just came from, not hearing Tommy’s yells to wait up.

“They fucking hid it in the woods are you kidding me?!” Tommy yelled, clutching his blond hair and pulling. “It’s ok, they probably just put in a tree nearby right? I’ll go look for it, I’ll call you when I find it and I'm ok?” Ranboo told Tommy grabbing his bag and putting it on.

“Ok, don’t go too far ok? Call me as soon as you find it bitch!” Tommy yelled as Ranboo walked off into the woods.

Ranboo sighed as he walked deeper into the forest, his bag clutched on his shoulder as he scanned around him, head snapping at every little sound the forest made.

He knew he shouldn’t be out here, his worried neighbors would surely call the police when they found that he wasn’t home yet after 9 pm. They were the type to always worry over him ever since he moved in next to him, a tall young man barely graduating high school that year moving into a house with no parents or guardians anywhere. He didn’t blame them honestly.

Ranboo shook his head as he continued on, he would be home had it not been for the stupid bullies that decide to sneakily grab his memory book and hide it in the woods.

It had already been two hours and Ranboo still couldn’t find it.

He flinched when he heard a distant howl, picking up his pace, after all, there was a reason these woods were forbidden.

It was rumored that a giant lived in these woods, a massive one, with hands that could rip up trees and rip you to shreds, teeth that can tear you apart, a mouth so big it could eat a whole car.

Ranboo did not want to be the next person to be eaten, by the giant nor the wolves.

Ranboo started to search quickly, looking in trees and bushes, until he caught a glint of a red ribbon from the corner of his eye, hidden in a borrow under a tree.

Ranboo walked over, grabbing the book dusting it off, he smiled and took his bag off, ready to put it in, and stopped.

He heard a tree branch snap and the next thing he knew, he was being lifted up into the air, his bag and book falling to the forest ground. Ranboo barely registered what was happening before he came face to face with giant, sad blue eyes, and dirty, mangled pink hair.

[waitimcomingtoo]

The Proposal ~ T.H

chapter one: the proposal 

Series Masterlist

As editor in chief of the most renowned book publishing company in the UK, you had a lot on your plate. Lucky for you, you had an assistant who fulfilled your every need.

“Assistant?” You called from your desk. “Where’s my drink?”

“Right here, miss.” Tom hurried to put a Starbucks cup in your hand. He watched you nervously as you took a long sip.

“No eye contact.” You reminded him, and his eyes quickly fell to the floor. “Not unless I initiate it first.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Sorry.”

“Did you read the manuscript I sent you last night?” You asked once you seemed to approve of the drink.

“Yes, miss.”

“All of it?” You looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Tom took a large stack of papers out of his bag and carefully placed them on your desk.

“I highlighted the weaker paragraphs and put tabs on the parts that drag.” He explained as you flipped through the stack.

“Color coded tabs?” You asked.

“Pink for parts that need editing and red for parts that can be cut all together.” He nodded. Your lips tugged into a smile as you stopped touching the pages.

“Good boy.” You said without looking at him. Tom gulped and looked up at the ceiling so you wouldn’t see how flustered that made him.

“Thank you, miss.” He said weakly.

That was how your relationship was. You were the boss, and he made sure you were happy at all times. You had fired 15 assistants before you found Tom. Most ran from you in fear, but Tom had been putting up with you for two years now. It was hard work, but he enjoyed it.

“What did you think of the writing?” You asked him. Tom swallowed a little before giving you his answer.

“His dialogue was strong but it got preachy towards the middle.” He began. “The scene between Genevieve and Edward sounded like he was rewriting a past experience with an ex.”

“That’s exactly what I thought.” You smirked. “Nice work, assistant. You’re dismissed.”

“Thank you.” Tom bowed before turning to leave your part of the office.

“Wait.” You called, making him freeze.

“Yes, miss?” He asked nervously.

“Why does my cup say “Tom” on it?” You asked as you turned the cup around to show him where his name was written.

“Um, that was actually my cup.” He explained. “That’s why.”

“And what happened to my cup?” You tilted your head.

“I spilled it.” He admitted. “I’m sorry, miss. It won’t happen again.”

“So you drink a matcha latte with soy milk and foam?” You raised your eyebrow. “Because this is the same as my order.”

“I do.”

“I thought you drank tea.”

“I drink that too.” He nodded quickly. “I just like matcha in the morning.”

“Do you?” You laughed a little, but it came off as a scoff. You liked to you with Tom because of how easy he made it.

“Of course.” He said. “I don’t just drink the same drink as you in case I spill yours. That would be crazy.”

“No one suggested you did.” You said flatly, and Tom realized he was caught.

“I…um.”

“Right.” You waved your hand. “Get out of my office, assistant.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s a great idea.” Tom gave you a thumbs up and quickly ran to his part of the office. He sat down in his desk and snuck a glance at you as you read over his work from the night before.

“Did you need something else?” You asked without looking up at him. Tom flushed again when you caught him staring and cleared his throat.

“Yes, miss.” He began. “I was wondering if you received my request to take next week off. I was going to go home to see my family.”

“Oh, right.” You remembered reading his email. “Do you really need a whole week?”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I haven’t seen them in a long time and it’s my little brothers birthday.” Tom explained. “It would mean a lot to them if I was there.”

You let out a loud sigh as you continued to read the manuscript, never looking up at him.

“I also haven’t taken a vacation in two years.” He added quietly. “Just to remind you.”

You finally looked up at Tom, who was sitting meekly with his hands folded on his desk, and let out another sigh. He was a great assistant who never talked back or asked for anything. He deserved a little time off.

“Fine.” You agreed. “You can go home. But I want the revised edits of the My Girl manuscript by the time you get back.”

“Yes, miss.” He broke into a smile. “Of course.”

“Now stop staring.” You commanded, and he quickly looked away.

You and Tom worked in silence for the next hour until he got a phone call.

“Miss L/n’s office, how may I help you?” Tom cheerily answered the phone. You snuck a glance at him as he nodded along to whoever was on the other end of the line.

“Yes, sir. Right away.” He said before hanging up. “Miss?”

“What now?” You sighed.

“You have a call from upstairs.” Tom explained. “They want to see you right away.”

You rolled your eyes and sat back in your chair. A call from upstairs meant the head of the publishing company, Mr. Reynolds, wanted to see you.

“All right.” You stood up and smoothed your skirt. “You know the drill. Get me in ten minutes with a call from-“

“Mr. Paxton.” Tom finished your sentence with a smile. “I know what to do.”

“Good boy.” You nodded at him. “But don’t cut me off again. Or I’ll cut that pretty little paycheck I give you. Got it?”

“Yes, miss.” He answered as you walked out of the office. You made your way to the office upstairs and threw on a smile before opening the door.

“Good morning, sir.” You greeted. “How can I help you?”

“Good morning, Y/n.” Mr. Reynolds smiled tightly. “Look, there’s no way to sugar coat this. You’re being deported.”

“What?” Your smile fell. “Deported?”

“We got a call from the IRCC.” He sighed. “Your visa is expired.”

“But I put in a request for a renewal.” You explained as you tried not to panic.

“It was denied.” He told you. “Apparently you haven’t filled out your paperwork in months. You missed several deadlines.”

You let out a loud sigh and sat in the chair in front of his desk. Me. Reynolds watched you sympathetically as you rubbed your face.

“So what happens now?” You asked sadly.

“You stayed in the country past 30 days of your visa expiring. That means you’ll have to leave the country for a year and apply for citizenship.”

“A year?” You exclaimed but quickly collected yourself so you didn’t look frazzled.

“That’s...that’s not problem.” You forced a smile. I can work from home. Most of what I do is online anyway. It’ll be fine.”

“I wish it were that easy.” He sighed. “You’re the best editor in chief we’ve ever had and it would kill us to see you go. But if you’re deported, you can’t work for an UK company. It’s not allowed.”

Before you could answer, Tom knocked on the door and stepped into the office.

“Excuse me, I have a call waiting for Miss L/n.” He smiled. “It’s from Mr. Paxton and it’s urgent.”

“Not now, assistant.” You waved him away in annoyance while you tried to think of what to do. Tom didn’t understand that you didn’t need to be saved from this meeting, so he went on with the plan.

“I can see that you’re already engaged but when you have a minute, Mr. Paxton really needs to speak with you.” Tom continued. Your head snapped up at his choice of words and suddenly, you had an idea. Tom looked at your curiously as you got out of your chair and motioned for him to come over to you. He reluctantly walked over to you and kept his distance, but you immediately pulled him closer and wrapped your arm around his.

“Mr. Reynolds , you don’t have to worry about replacing me.” You said. “I can assure you, no one is getting deported anytime soon.”

“Why’s that?” He asked. Tom looked at you in confusion and you gave him a sweet smile in return. You slipped your hand into Tom’s and rested your head on his shoulder, making Tom’s entire body tense up.

“Because Tom and I are engaged.” You lied through a smile.

“You are?” Mr. Reynolds asked hopefully.

“We are?” Tom sputtered with wide eyes.

“We are.” You said through gritted teeth, never losing your smile. “We are getting married. To each other. Out of love. And passion. And stuff.”

“Yeah. What she said.” Tom faked a smile as well as he tried to understand what was happening.

“Wow. Congratulations.” Mr. Reynolds applauded you. “I had no idea you two were together.”

“Well, we are.” You squeezed Tom’s hand and beamed. “We’re so excited. I can’t wait to be Mrs....”

You trailed off and looked to Tom for help when you realized you didn’t know his last name.

“Holland.” He finished your sentence.

“Holland.” You nodded. “Mrs. Holland. That’s me. Soon to be, anyway.”

“Well this would certainly solve the deportation issue. Just make it official and you’re in the clear.” Mr. Reynolds told you.

“We will. Bye now.” You waved and pulled Tom out of the office by his hand. You quickly dropped his hand and your smile as you walked back to your office.

“What was the about?” Tom whispered. “What deportation?”

“Keep your mouth shut and keep walking.” You seized his arm and pulled him to your office. You pushed him inside and shut the door behind the two of you, letting out a loud groan once you were alone.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” He asked you.

“No.” You said simply as rubbed your face.

“No?” He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

You glared at Tom for a minute as you reminded yourself that he was your only hope. You hated being vulnerable in front of people, but you desperately needed his help. Knowing there was no other option, you hung your head in shame and got ready to tell him the truth.

“Look, I’m not a UK citizen.” You admitted. “I came here on a student visa and I got it extended once I started working here but the embassy denied my recent request for another extension.”

“Okay. Great.” Tom said sarcastically. “What does that have to do with my hand in marriage?”

“I can’t work here without citizenship or a visa. But I could stay here if I was married to a citizen, like you.” You said like it was obvious. “And watch it with the sarcasm. I’m still your boss.”

“Sorry, miss.” He slipped back into his submissive role. “But why would you have to marry me? Can’t you just apply for citizenship?”

“Do you have any idea how long that takes?” You sighed. “And I’d have to leave the country for at least a year because I overstayed.”

“Where are you being deported to exactly?” He wondered.

“Canada.” You mumbled sheepishly. His cheeks puffed up as he tried to hold back laughter. He knew it wasn’t funny, but he had never seen you so vulnerable before. Something about you needing his help made him want to laugh.

“Are you laughing?” You sternly raised your eyebrows at him.

“No.” He said quickly. “I’ve never laughed. Not once in my whole life.”

“This is serious.” You raised your voice at him. “It’s my job. And it’s your job too.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re my assistant.” You reminded him. “If I’m fired, so are you. That means all the work you’ve done to get to where you are will go out the window and you’ll have to start over.”

“I can’t start over.” Tom panicked. “I put my whole life into this job.”

“Then you know what you have to do.” You shrugged.

“But we can’t just get married.” He laughed at the ridiculous situation.

“Why not?” You said dismissively. “We can just sign the papers at city hall and get divorced when this is all solved.”

“Are you forgetting this is a felony?” He asked you. “We’d be committing fraud.”

“Then we’ll just have to be extremely convincing.” You gave him as tight smile.

“And what if we’re not?” He asked as he got closer to you. “I could go jail. Why would I risk that just so you could stay in the country?”

You put your hand on your hips and stared at him, realizing he had a good point. He had a lot to lose if he helped you, so you had to level the playing field.

“I’ll make you editor.” You decided.

“What?”

“Thats what you want, right?” You asked. “What you’ve been waiting for?”

“Yes. I want it very much.” He said quietly.

“Then I’ll make you a deal.” You proposed. “If you marry me, I will promote you to editor.”

“You will?” He asked hopefully.

“I will.” You promised. “You earned it. And you’d be doing me a huge favor.”

Tom stared at you for a long time as he decided what to do. He was risking at least five years in prison for committing fraud, but that was only if you got caught. If he could convict the IRCC that he was your husband, he could become the editor at his dream job.

“Please.” You said softly when you sensed his hesitation. “You’re my only hope. I need you.”

Tom’s lips twitched into a smile as he came to a conclusion.

“I want a proposal.” He decided.

“What?”

“If we’re getting married, then I want a proposal.” He shrugged. “From you. Right now.”

“I am not proposing to you.” You scoffed.

“Then you’ll have to find a new husband.” Tom said simply. He turned to go back to his desk but you grabbed his arm.

“Wait.” You looked at the ceiling in annoyance, knowing there was no way around this.

“Yes?” He asked sweetly.

“Will you marry me?” You asked through a tight smile.

“Uh uh.” He said. “That’s not a proposal.”

“What am I supposed to do?” You whined. “Get down on my knees?”

Tom tweaked an eyebrow up and you took it as a yes. With a loud sigh, you got down on both knees in front of him and took his hand.

“Tom Holland,” you forced a wide smile, “will you please marry me?”

“It’s a pretty sight.” He smirked. “You on your knees.”

“Is that a yes?” You raised an unamused eyebrow.

“Yes.” He smiled. “Yes, I will marry you.”

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[the-fiction-witch]

Books

TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY WATTS X READER  RATING: FUNNY + FLIRTY

I walked down the half broken, foul smelling new york streets. Hearing my heels clacking in the pavement as I walked, the swishing of my petticoats and my dress, the small sun trying to peek through the thick grey clouds. I put my sunglasses in my handbag as I arrived at the tall buildings I saw the beaten up beetle parked in the street and the small handful of parking tickets it had under the wiper blade so I picked them up and sighed turning to look down into the ever stretching darkness of the stairwell. I stepped down trying not to touch the handrail to the first level of little doors with some lights and then down the second stairwell into the dark nothing's, it smells like shit down here. 

I got to the door trying to not touch the gross walls tapping in the door as hard as I could hearing the metal echo through the basement.

The door opened tenderly and careful a first as if trying to peak before it opened fully revealing a barefoot, Benny watts. Stood in his black dirty jeans where he'd clearly wiped his hands down his legs for some reason, his black t shirt with his usual chains, his hand fixing his hair out of his eye with a small smile on his lips 

"Hey you"

"Hey" I smiled briefly stepping inside, as soon as my foot crossed into his apartment he put his hand on my waist and gave my cheek a kiss "move your car" I told him pushing the tickets into his chest he took them and I headed inside slipping my Jacket off and laying it over the chair 

"I'll move it in a bit" he says "coffee?"

"Tea" I Answered "extra milk t-"

"Extra milk two sugars I know" he laughs going over to his kitchen setting the tickets down in a forming pile on his kitchen counter 

"You should pay them"

"I should do a lot of things"

"Pay your parking tickets Benny"

"Suck my dick y/n" he says leaning against the counter looking at me crossing his arms over his chest "we both don't do what the other wants us to"

"You make me suck your dick I'll bite your cock off" I sighed sitting at the table 

"I know, I still have the bite mark from Last time" he sighed bringing the cups over sitting across from me with his coffee instantly I took my little hanki from my handbag and cleaned the top of the cup seeing the white cotton turn grey 

"What is it Benny? What did you summon me to the slums of new york for?"

"Oohh sorry, next time should I request an audience at mi lady's palace?" 

"What do you want Benny before I pour this tea down your pants"

"I need your help"

"... Hu. Never thought I'd hear you say that but go on"

"I need your help with something that only you can help me with"

"Right…"

"I wanna write a book" 

"A book?"

"Yes"

"What kinda of book?"

"One with... words?"

"No shit. Fictional or non fictional?"

"What's the difference?"

"Fictional is a story, non fictional is real life."

"Oh, non fiction"

"Okay, do you have a plot structure"

"A who what?"

"What's the plan for the book Benny?"

"I shall write it. And then I shall publish it." 

"Did you wanna edit it somewhere in the middle there?" I laughed

"Eh, you can do that" 

"Okay… so lemme guess this is a book about you? Or about chess?"

"Little I'd both"

"Who's publishing it?"

"Me?"

"Ohh so you have four thousand dollars laying around do you?" 

"What!"

"If you wanna self publish Benny, the basic level is four thousand dollars and that will get you local distribution if your lucky which is about five states out if that." 

".... Uuuughh, I'll publish through a publisher? Your publisher?"

"Eleanor doesn't take non fiction"

"Then she has to know someone who does? Right?'

"She does but then have to pay for meetings which cost roughly fifty bucks per ten minutes, and you have to get an approved manuscript before they'll even meet you, and even though a publisher for international you’re taking nine to ten thousand. Dollars."

"Uuuuuuughhh, wait. It's a chess book so I could get funding for it from the chess federation"

"Maybe, but then they are going to need to approve it first, and the send to a publisher willing to carry it, and then designing, and editing and printing and stocking which could take over five years" 

"Five years!"

"Yep. The novel world is a slow one Benny" I said "besides that's all publishing stuff, you can worry about that when you have a manuscript"

"A what now?"

"Manuscript is like the… actual book pages and all the words that will be on them"

"Ohh, well that shouldn't be too long, bang it out over a long weekend or something"

"You think you can write a book manuscript over a long weekend? Three days?"

"Yes"

".... Okay, so you wanna write a book? Which for non fiction about chess really a good level would be five or six hundred pages minimum, your going to get it written, edited, and ready to send to the chess federation for approval by Monday morning, even though they might reject it or just plain not fund it, you'll be already one thousand dollars in the red, before you add shipping, handling, copywriting, paying me for editing because I ain't doing that shit for free and as it's currently four pm on a Saturday afternoon and you haven't even writen a word yet"

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"How long did it take you to write your book?"

"Six years, in and off with a full time job and without an editor"

"I'm fucked aren't I?'

"Not fucked Benny. Overambitious" I laughed "do you have a title?"

"No."

"Do you have a synopsis?"

"No."

"Do you have a typewriter?"

"I was going to write it by hand?"

"With your handwriting?"

"What's wrong with my handwriting?"

"Benny, it looks like a spider learnt cursive and then got drunk"

"I don't own a typewriter. May I borrow yours?"

"No. Buy one"

"There like sixty dollars!"

"I will buy you a pre-owned typewriter"

"Aww thank you sugar"

"How are you intending to pay me for being your editor?"

"... Royalties?"

"Awww Benny darling, if you sell your book for a dollar each you'll be lucky to make 25 cents per book in royalties, less if you go though a publisher, and even less if it's being funded by the federation… you'll maybe get about six pennies if your lucky" I explain 

"Then how the hell do you afford your car? Your house? Your dresses?"

"I sell alot of books Benny"

"I'll give you three pennies if my six pennies royalties?"

"Of your not yet existing book? So I'm just meant to wait and see if I get paid?"

"I'll bake you a cake?"

"You can't cook Benny"

"... I will eat you out?"

"No deal"

"I promise you half of all royalties, editor credit and I'll fuck you as much as you want, now will you please just help me?"

"Fine. I'll be needing a deposit payment" I said 

"Alright, you know where the bedroom is I'll finish my coffee and be there in a sec" 

I sat on the leather chair looking at the handwritten chapter structure Benny had given me "Benny?"

"Yeah?" He asks slightly jumping where he had been sat for so long at his table with his notes and the old typewriter I got for him trying to figure out how he loaded paper in it 

"What is this word?" 

"What word?" He asks 

"The something with something"

"Which chapter?"

"Four?"

"The faults with defense" 

"That is how you write an s?" 

"Yes"

"... How do you not write an s right it's in your name?" 

"No it's not?"

"Yes it is"

"B. E. N. N. Y. No s there?"

"Watts?" 

"Ooohh yeah"

"You fool" 

"Also, does this have a E?"

"No."

"And how am I meant to write a chess book without the letter e? I sort of need it? Chess. Defensive. Queen. Benny."

"Antidisestablishmentarianism" 

"That's a word?"

'"yep"

"Can you use it in a sentence?"

"Screw you bitch I can spell antidisestablishmentarianism" 

"A.n.t.i.d.i.s.t?"

"Nope"

"Damn it" he sighed "but I need e how am I meant to write chess without an e?"

"Write an o and then draw a line in the middle?" 

"Fine" he said starting to type one key at a time "Openings… and… tactics… by… Benny… watts" he said but the typewriter had got to the end of the spool "y/n! Why won't it type!"

"Benny just… ughh come here you child" I sighed getting up going over and moving the spool back to the centre so he could write "there. You have to do that at the end of each line"

"Really?"

"Yep. Isn't writing fun" I smiled kissing his head 

I sat listening to the clicking and clacking of his typewriter keys, sounded like music to my ears in his quiet dark and cold apartment

"Fuck!" He yelled breaking me from my relaxation as he stopped

"What?" I asked

"How do I undo?" He sighed rubbing his eyes 

"You can't what happened Benny?" 

"I typed porn instead of pawn" he sighed resting his head in his hands

"You fool" I giggled "you wanna know how we fix mistakes Benny?" I giggled going over wrapping my arms around his neck 

"We we write the whole page?" 

"Nope. White out" I smiled handing him the shall bottle 

"Fuck! That smells like paint"

"Ehh pretty much is"

"Thank you y/n"

"Your welcome" I smiled giving his head s kiss "call me when chapter one is done I'm going for a shower" 

"Uuuuhhh… yeah I'll do that" he says not sounding confident 

"How close to finished are you with chapter one?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh… next week sound good?"

"And you could bang out a whole book in a weekend" I laughed sitting back on the chair 

"I said I'm sorry! I didn't know it was this hard" he says 

I sat the other side of the table with my lovely blue pen, my leg over my knee, smirking slightly at him as Benny sat on the other side his hands to his face watching me Intently, panic in his eyes everytime he saw me use the blue pen, which I was having to do alot. 

"Here" I said throwing it back to him now I was done "you should probably re write that's a little too much editing for white out watts"

"What's wrong with this?" He asks as he looked over the page 

"You used the wrong there"

"I hate you. Beyond words can express." 

[writing-in-april]

The Five Stages of Grief

Stage five: Acceptance (5/5)

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer’s POV)

Thanks to @zhuzhubii who helped me so much with this series and made this gif for me 🥰

Summary: Spencer going through each of the stages of grief after the death of the reader. Stage five is acceptance.

A/N: Can’t believe my first series on here is done!!! I’m not gonna lie you guys this chapter is super emotional for me- I no joke cried the whole time while writing it and while rereading to edit. I basically have been going through the same thing recently with my Nana. This chapter is very close to my heart and is definitely the most personal chapter for me. The whole series is actually heavily inspired by season 3 episode 19 -one of my favorite episodes of criminal minds- and I also used elements from season 3 episode 15. This also kinda helps explain a lot of my writing choices throughout the whole series if you’re curious. I did my first real attempt at foreshadowing in this series, I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you for all the love and support on this series- with a special thanks to @spencerreidsmiles and @andiebeaword -you all have been so lovely and amazing.

Warnings (All warnings for the whole series are on series Masterlist): Sad Spencer, References to past drug use, References to past suicidal behaviors, Small panic attack, Hopeful Spencer, Unreliable narrator (much less so in this chapter)

Main Masterlist | The 5 Stages Masterlist Word Count: 3.5k (longest chapter)

It’s been a year; One full year since they had died in my arms. One full year since they had been shot so cruelly by a heartless unsub in an alley. One full year since I had been graced with their presence and the sound of their voice.

The elements of my emotions were extremely complex according to my therapist, and surprisingly I found myself starting to feel the benefits with them more every time I went to an individual session or a group session. It was hard for me to realize that I would have to learn to accept my situation.

It was hard to learn how to understand my own emotions when I had been so willing to shut them out, to try and convince myself that they didn’t exist.

I had begun to learn that I carried around the water that felt like I could drown in, the fire that burned so hot that anyone near it would get burned, the earth that I had wished would bury me with the pebbles I had chosen to cope with, and even the polluted air of my sadness around with me everyday. But, now I somewhat accepted the fact that they would always be with me, or at least I was trying to.

I had to learn to accept.

Even if it hurt I had to learn to at least try.

The next goal I had been given by the therapist was the most daunting of my tasks yet in my opinion. Trying to convince myself to open the boxes in the corner of the bedroom I had once shared with Y/N was harder than trying to get clean. The thought that had propelled me forward into getting clean was that I felt as though I would be disrespecting Y/N by not staying clean. They had been the reason all those years ago that I had spilled the clear liquid down the toilet and I needed to do it again, if only for them.

The boxes were something that were easier to ignore. I could ignore them by turning my back to the stack of boxes, choosing instead to stare at the painted walls of my apartment instead. There was no reason for me to stop ignoring the boxes, no one was trying to pressure me to open them besides my therapist. Everyone else in my life had no expectations for me to open them at any time, if ever, including Y/N’s family.

But, it had begun to feel like maybe I could try to attempt to open the boxes. I wasn’t sure what had finally prompted my brain into thinking that perhaps it would be a good thing to stop ignoring it. I stopped trying to understand why my mind works the way it does long ago, I had poured enough time into my life thinking about that.

I had felt this overwhelming urge to be able to look back at things that once belonged to them with some semblance of peace. I wanted to enjoy the memories we had together once more. I was tired of letting the memories get soiled by the unsub, I deserved to still think back on the one that I loved with a smile. I deserved to be able to preserve their memories with happiness and not let them sour with sadness. I wouldn’t let the unsub be able to kill something else while he was behind bars, my memories.

I was ready.

I was ready to open those boxes.

I was ready to at least try.

I was ready to try and look back at the memories.

I wasn’t going to let their memory die too.

My first attempt to open the boxes in the corner of my bedroom consisted of me staring for two hours at the stacks. I knew that I at least wanted to try to attempt to open a box, even if it was the smallest of the bunch.

That day I had gotten the lid of one of the boxes open. That was as much as I could handle emotionally in that moment. There was a small part of myself that wanted to push myself to look inside the box, but I couldn’t do it that night. That night I laid down on the bed, again facing the wall, unwilling to look at the boxes. I knew if I did I’d feel as if I had failed and I had to keep trying to convince myself that small progress was still progress.

I tried again despite the swirling anxiety in the hole in my chest.

I was still willing because I still wanted to have my memories unsullied by sadness.

I still knew that I deserved that despite my volatile elemental emotions threatening to push me into another toxic loop.

The next time I tried to look in the box I had previously opened just a little I immediately got choked, recognizing the contents sat at the top surrounded by other smaller insignificant items. I only managed to grab one of their old tchotchkes that used to sit on their desk in the bullpen. It was insignificant enough of an item that it didn’t make me fall into an endless loop of my emotions. I clutched it all night while I tried to sleep, though I still faced away from the boxes.

I hadn’t given up yet I still wanted to try, if only for them.

I would still try for them, even if I didn’t succeed, I still felt better for trying.

It had taken me awhile to muster up the courage to look at the box again, even though I still wanted to try I was scared that the contents would be too much for my fragile psyche. What I had gotten a glimpse of at the top of the box was something that used to be important for Y/N.

The next time I tried to look I successfully managed to pick up the item that had triggered the painful memory in my mind. It was ironically, it was another box.

The box wasn’t something that was explicitly tied to memories that we shared together. I knew it to be a music box from their childhood, given to them by someone that had meant so much to them. Out of curiosity I cranked the knob on the side and slowly opened the lid, wondering if I could handle the sounds of a song that I had often heard every time they had opened it to listen to the twinkle of the box they cherished.

As soon as the beginning notes of Swan Lake floated into the air I slammed to top shut, unwilling to open up the box of my emotions all the way just yet. I knew I couldn’t get rid of it, it was too important of an artifact in Y/N’s life. Though I knew that this wasn’t something I could keep to myself, this belonged to Y/N’s family. I clutched the box for a second in my arms when I came to the realization that the trinket should be with someone else as if it would be cruelly ripped from my arms right then and there. I felt a little fire being stoked in my belly at the thought of people taking it from me, even though there was no one there in my lonely apartment with me.

I started a breathing exercise that my therapist had told me to use when I felt like this. No matter how much it pained me to admit it, it did help immensely in snuffing out the emotions when I could feel them begin to spiral out of control.

I couldn’t let myself fall into an endless loop of volatile emotions again. I had worked hard to get clean after I had started to write my amends. It had been a hard uphill battle even after I had written down my amends, my grief hadn’t magically gone away that day. Getting clean had been much harder without my rock and the person who had helped me get clean the first time around. I wouldn’t disrespect their memory by going back to dilaudid again.

Once the initial fear began to fade and my breathing had grown steady I forced myself to loosen my grip on the music box. I then carefully set it down in a place that would be suitable enough for a stack of things I’d pass off to other people that had been important to them. I hoped I’d soon be ready to make a donation pile despite that I despised the mere thought of giving something away that belonged to them to a mere stranger.

It was already too much for today, I could only bear looking at the one item. I didn't know how I’d be able to handle it if the box was filled with more trinkets that were important to them. I did however find myself thinking when I laid down on my bed for the night after a hot shower to relax my mind. I found my mind thinking about the trinkets they’d had an affinity for collecting. It still brought tears to my eyes to think about giving away their stuff, even if it was to people who also mattered in their life. But, I found myself thinking about their old cute little trinkets without as much pain, though it was definitely still there.

Maybe tomorrow when I try, I’d do better.

The small box that I had begun to unpack over a series of days didn’t hold anything else seemingly important to Y/N’s life. Besides the music box I had found prior, the small box was only filled with unimportant trinkets that thankfully didn’t spark much meaning in my mind. It was obvious that when the team had initially helped me to put their stuff away until I was ready that things had been put away in a slight haste. They must’ve done it so quickly as a way to try and help me. The animosity that I had held towards my team for the last year because of Y/N’s death had been slowly melting away over time. I still wasn’t as friendly as I had been before, but I knew my frigid nature after the event hadn’t been justified. I knew now that they had only my best interests at heart, even if they didn’t always pinpoint what they were correctly. I had even begun to regain some of my desk duties once I had gotten clean. It had felt good to feel somewhat normal even though the sight of their desk directly across from mine and their still empty round table chair still made my heart pang with grief.

I had even begun texting them more frequently again, though I was still aversive to text, so I guess it still wasn’t that often. Some things really do never change despite the fact that my life had turned on its head in the past year. I had even begun to write letters to my mom again.

I knew I was lucky to still have people by my side, even if it wasn’t the one I knew deep down I still wanted with me.

I thought I could have at least done the box without crying anymore.

That was until I found something at the bottom of the box that made the dam holding my memories back in my mind break to flood my mind. The book would probably seem inconsequential compared to the rest of the items that I knew sat in the other boxes. Most people would assume after just looking at the surface level what items of Y/N’s meant most to me, the ones I wanted to keep. The black paper back was well worn around the edges, almost like if I read it too frequently and I wasn’t too careful that the spine would break. I ran my fingers up and down the battered book as I began to willingly reminisce. To other people the book would’ve looked beaten already beyond repair, maybe as if it had not been loved enough, battered perhaps because of neglect.

But, just like me I knew that Y/N had loved the book more than most people would be willing to.

I knew that I wanted to keep this book, no matter how painful I knew their contents would be for me. I hoped that I’d be able to read it so much that I’d be afraid for the binding of the book, just to be able to feel close to them again. Though I wasn’t quite sure if I was ready to dig up this particular memory, it might still be too painful for me.

I remember they had bought this book for us after I had connected with a grieving father on a case. He had specifically quoted a poem to me that stuck with me for weeks after. Once I had told them of the excerpt quoted to me they had immediately grabbed a copy of where it had originated from, a long Wordsworth poem. The book “Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood” became their favorite quickly, in fact it used to take residence in the top drawer of their nightstand. They had often loved to read me their favorite excerpts at night just before bed when my eyes couldn’t stand to focus on the pages anymore.

When I opened the well worn book it flipped open to where they had set their bookmark last, I recognized the excerpt immediately. My breath got caught up in my throat when the words danced around in my vision. I wasn’t sure if I could face this specific excerpt quite yet, or even be able to read any part of the poem. The book held so many memories of them. This specific poem held so much meaning to the both of us.

However, there was something in me that wanted to try. I wanted to be able to read the poem again and remember the memories we shared fondly. I wanted to be able to enjoy my memories with them. I had come to realize over the past year that their memory deserved to be nurtured with fondness not overwhelmed with sadness.

So, I decided to try.

The memory’s attached to the excerpt immediately began flooding back even as soon as I read the beginning words. The bookmark had landed on the page that had been quoted to me by the grieving father, the words holding even more meaning in my life now than ever before.

“What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my-“

The tears in my eyes blurred my vision, so much so that I had to stop reading for a moment to wipe my eyes. I didn’t know if I wanted to continue, just those first few lines were already weighing heavily on my mind. I was already focusing on the radiance that had left my life forever. A radiance that was once so bright, but was now snuffed out, forever taken from my sight. My sorrow was creeping in with small little waves in my mind, I just had to hope that it wouldn't drown me. I didn’t want to get stuck on an endless loop of emotions again, I had just gotten fully clean a little while ago.

Even though I was feeling intensely emotional over just the first few words I wanted to keep trying. I wanted to read this poem and smile. I wanted to be able to look back at our memories with love, to take back what had been polluted by the acts of a heinous man. Once I had somewhat collected myself and my thoughts I began to read again from the beginning of the excerpt-

“What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower,”

My entire being could not help but ache as I read the words, still aching for the presence of the one who had been forever taken from my sight. When I reached that part that I remembered asking the grieving man about all those years ago, the words held an even deeper meaning to me now than I ever thought possible. There was nothing I could do to bring back the hour where I was still in my lover’s embrace. I wanted to be back in the moments of splendour in the grass and glory in the flower, I knew that soon I’d have to fully accept that it wasn’t possible.

Again I had to wipe tears from my eyes before continuing to read the stanza. This time a few tears dribbling down onto the pages, marking them with my sadness forever no matter if it dried into the parchment or not. I continued to read the page despite the saltwater that continued to drip down my face,

“We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind”

I felt a small watery smile creep onto my face, it had been so long since I had remembered to smile with sincerity. I was thinking about some of the times they had read this to me as I tried to drift off into a most likely restless sleep. Though I had always slept better when they read to me. At the time the words hadn’t meant as much to me as they did now, I now had a permanent connection to the feeling of grief that would never be erased. For the first time in a long time thinking about them didn’t hurt as much for a moment, I actually smiled, even though it was rather watery. No matter how small or sad the smile was, I was still smiling. And, I knew in that moment that Y/N would’ve been proud of me.

I pondered on the stanza’s meaning in a deeper way than I had done before. The things stated in the stanza about how I would gain strength from this situation made me contemplate what Y/N would’ve wanted me to do after their death. They wouldn’t want me to give up as I had done before, they had always wanted the best for me. They would want me to gain strength from the situation.

They would want me to grow from the pain that sat in my chest.

They would want me to move on, to accept.

I didn’t know if I’d ever find someone else that I’d ever love as much as I loved them. I didn’t really ever want to, I had found my true love already. Maybe one day I’d find someone to fall in love with again and if I did I knew they would be happy that I was able to move on with someone else. Even if I ever did move on with someone else there’d always be a part of my heart that belonged to Y/N. For now I was ready to move on in a different way. I was ready to live my life without them, by myself.

The trauma of losing them would always weigh heavily on my soul, I’d carry that with me until I rejoined them in the earth. But, I was now ready to keep living, if only for them. I felt less guilty now since I had grown to realize that they’d want me to try and live the rest of my life as fully as I could. They’d want me to try and find happiness. I didn’t know if I would ever truly find it again, whether it was on my own or with someone else.

They may have been forever taken from my sight, but I found comfort in the fact that the radiance they brought into my life would always reside in me. Instead of letting the deep hole in my chest gape until the hour of my death, I’d let it fill with the radiance of their memory.

I was ready to try.

I was ready to try even if I knew the water that felt like I could drown in, the fire that burned so hot that anyone near it would get burned, the earth that I had wished would bury me with the pebbles I had chosen to cope with, and even the polluted air of my sadness around with me everyday would sometimes take ahold of me again no matter how hard I tried.

I’d always carry those emotions with me, but I knew I was ready.

“Nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower.”

I knew I was ready because their memory would always be with me to give me strength and to guide me. They’d always be there to help me try to live the rest of my life peacefully.

When I slept that night I faced the boxes while clutching the book to my chest.

Even though it still would always hurt on some level, I was ready to live in a reality where I could accept.

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

5 stages of grief:

@joonie-centric @tatesimper @half-blood-dork @mcntsee @illuxions-x @rainsong01 @nomajdetective @loveheathens @day-n-night-dreamer @reidbuck

[hopeswriting]

I meant to do a post about my thoughts on the Daily Life Arc now that I finished rereading it, but I can't seem to find the time and it's been a while now, and if I keep it up I'll forget what my thoughts are to begin with lol, so here's the long story short:

I know it's a long arc, as in it starts being boring and more or less unbearable past some point, because the "gag of the chapter" format only takes you so far, and not actually very far if Amano's humor doesn't work on you much, if at all. I don't think it's an arc you can reread right away/soon either, lest you feel that one flaw even faster.

And I felt it too, starting with the fourty-something chapters I felt like it was dragging on too much, though to be fair that probably had to do too with the fact I knew things much more interesting were coming after that.

Still, all that said, like, it's an enjoyable arc. Amano's humor happens to work on me, and she does it really well, and I liked reading the arc. There are some chapters where you're really asking yourself why they were written for lol, but even then you read it for the characters, and it somehow keeps you going.

And like, even though I think Amano could have seen the fact the comedy was going to turn repetitive and thus boring at some point, and try to diversify it or something, it's just how comedy/humor/gags works? Some jokes land and some doesn't, but for me at least a lot more of them worked than not.

The DLA is a good enough arc is what I'm saying.

------

On than note and on the contrary, of course it's fine if you think it's a bad arc, to each their opinion, but personally I really don't agree it's an unnecessary one.

I'm saying this because apparently it's not uncommon to advice new fans to skip the arc and directly start with the Kokuyo one? (Or so I learned on TV Tropes anyway, this might or might not be still relevent/accurate.)

Now don't get me wrong, the DLA does fail to hook the readers to the story for the reasons stated above, I agree with that, but it literally introduces the main character? And all the other characters, and gets us to know them, and establishes the dynamics between them and why they're the way they are, and, though only in a more or less superficial manner (and more than less) by design of the arc's purpose (not being deep in any way lol), it still gives us an insight into the characters and why they're the way they are. A glimpse into the core of their personality, the "stakes" of their characters, the flaws they have to overcome.

And all that in the context of their daily life, so if you skip it to go directly to the arc that challenges them, you can't appreciate fully how they rise to the challenge, how it shows their growth or reasserts their core values. You can't know how much or what it means, for example, off the top of my head, to have Yamamoto sacrifice his arm to beat Ken, when only a year ago he tried to kill himself over his broken arm. Or Hibari losing against Mukuro, thus telling us how much of a real threat he was. Or Tsuna screaming at Lancia for having hurt his friends, anger on his face, clearly despite himself, that Dame-Tsuna.

All these just wouldn't hit you the same, and it'd be such a shame? I mean I guess the ones who start with the Kokuyo arc go back to read the DLA, or you could compromise like the anime did by splitting the DLA between more serious arcs, but like I said I personally don't find the DLA that bad, so I still wouldn't advice it lol.

Even if, I suppose, it'd mean they might give up on the manga somewhere through the DLA, but like? Some mangas just don't speak to you, and that's fine, and it'd be a little of a shame from my POV as a KHR fan, but still, no big deal.

------

I'm still very impressed with how smoothly Amano went from a gag manga to a shonen one, and how she made it so the DLA still fits with the rest. I mean the sudden change in tone/stakes/etc is jarring, sure, but it's all based on stuff she introduced in the DLA, which she presumably came up with with no intention to ever make it something deeper/more meaningful.

It's easy to believe the foreshadowing, and generally speaking the worldbuilding was planned all along, which, again, probably not, and like? Super impressive.

(Though once more don't get me wrong, there are inconsistencies/plot holes in Amano's plotlines and worldbuilding, but not, like, at their seams, if I can say it like that? It's more often in the details, and it's fairly easy to fill in the blanks ourselves.)

------

Finally it was a lot of fun to rediscover the characters in a new light, and a bit of a disbelieving surprise tbh.

For context before I started my reread of the manga, all this time I was going with the time I read/watched it years ago plus the times I skimmed it, but mostly by all the fanon I was consuming. And it's not to say fanon is wrong per se, but it latched on one to three character's traits, or slapped an easy character archetype on them easy to "relate" to within, and apparently never looked back lol. And also often dialed up those traits (good or bad) in a very noticeable manner.

What I'm saying is, fanon is, in fact, wrong sometimes zldnslsz, and the characters are much more nuanced even in the DLA! (Which still leaves us at a more or less superficial level, because, you know lol, but still!)

------

To name the ones that stood out to me the most:

Nana isn't abused by Iemitsu, nor is she unhappy in her marriage despite Iemitsu being an absent husband (which is not relevent in the context of the DLA, but still, you can tell). She isn't an abusive mother to Tsuna either, and she is literally never an airhead. She literally just isn't, she actually does react very normally to the crazy Reborn brings with him, but much like Yamamoto as long as no one gets hurt (or walks it off), she just brushes it off.

And she has friends she goes listen to piano recitals with, and tries to save on money by eating rests, and gets in two-way arguments with Tsuna, and raises his allowance if he gets better grades to push him to work harder, and all around is just your average mom that really didn't read as just The Mom, if you know what I mean.

She has her flaws, definitely, she's not a great mom, namely is apparently used to call Tsuna Dame-Tsuna, but she's not just that.

She takes care of him, worries over him, and seems to be the only one who hasn't given up on him yet when the story starts. She supports him (though sometimes in a tactless to hurtful way), praises him when he does well, and trusts him to watch over the kids.

She's not that bad is what I'm saying, and 100% redeemable (that is, if you think she needs to be redeemed to begin with, which I actually do think she does, calling Tsuna Dame of all things is just a really shitty thing to do.)

(Though it's interesting to note that she doesn't do it again after what happened with Kyoko iirc, even if she might very well still talk to him in a belittling way at times. I just wish Amano would have commit fully to acknowledge it and resolve it, what with already having made it Kyoko's Dying Will Regret.)

(Edit: I had forgotten but she literally forgets his birthday while preparing someone else's birthday, so I take back that she is 100% redeemable because it's being too nice. But my point still stands.)

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Haru is literally such a fun character, it makes me even more sad now to know what Amano did with her (nothing ansknslq 😭😂).

She's unhinged, has zero impulse control, does not reflect on the consequences of her lack of impulse control as Tsuna points it out, is ready and willing to throw hands at any given moment and is unapologetic of it, and is the one Amano actually calls an airhead.

The only problem she had with the mafia is that she thought Tsuna was forcing it on Reborn, and when she confirmed it was all true she literally didn't even blink at it, and immediately called herself the future Decimo's wife djosdkkd.

On that note she is literally mafia right from her first appearance, is more or less involved in almost all the mafia shenanigans, was right there with Tsuna & Co when they went to destroy the Tomaso's headquarters.

And like?? Amano could just have left it at that if she wasn't going to do anything else/more with it. Haru had so much potential, and not only Amano did nothing with it, she actually watered her down and took away all her distinct character's traits 😭.

------

Hibari is so much more feral and playful than his fanon cool, overpowered, quiet badass counterpart. Which I love too, don't get me wrong, but these two sides of him don't have to be exclusive!

He talks and smiles and jokes often, and shows off and casually insults you, and licks the blood away from his lips after having beaten bloody other middle schoolers who dared to defy him (I know this happens in the Kokuyo arc, but it illustrates my point the best).

Not much more to add than that, we should just acknowledge that and put it in our works more often.

------

Gokudera is a compelling character from the get go, and as far as the DLA goes, he's the most compelling character second to Tsuna. He's the only one to actually have flashbacks and a backstory. And what stood out to me the most that I don't see often in fanon, is that he's really a good friend.

Yes he has a short fuse and snaps easily and is easy to anger, but he's not always angry. And is seen having and being capable of positive exchanges outside of Tsuna (I'm thinking Yamamoto namely, who's made with Ryohei to be the one he gets angry with the most).

And yes he holds Tsuna on a pedestal and sees him through heavily tinted pink glasses, but even through that he's earnestly a good friend. And tries his best, and is hardworking and overachieving, so much so he messes up without meaning to, but he only ever has honest, straight-forward good intentions behind it all (well, maybe not always lol).

I love him a lot more now is what I'm saying.

------

And Tsuna. I'm not sure I'll be able to articulate my thoughts properly, but like... he's just your average teenager. Which of course is his whole thing, and I'm saying it in a very not judgy way whatsoever, but he's often made to be at least a little more than that, namely about his bullying.

Like, it's kind of dramatised in fics? And I'm not going to elaborate on that more because it might come out wrong and I don't want that, but it's just, like—canonically he is just bullied, simple as that. Like many other teenagers are.

And it's all in a "chill" way (for unfortunate lack of a better word, I don't mean to trivialize bullying at all, it's wrong and unfair and never deserved or okay, just so we're clear), and by the time the story starts Tsuna is used to it and has given up fighting against it, and actually finds refuge and a twisted comfort in embracing his Dame-Tsuna's monicker, because at least he's not gonna hit rock bottom deeper than that if he does.

And I'm not actually going anywhere with this, it's just? It hit me how differently canon and fanon portray his bullying.

Back on the note of him being a (below) average teenager, Tsuna is not an uwu pure cinnamon roll too good for this world.

He's literally so quick to judge and criticise, whether in his head or out loud when he knows more the person (namely Haru lol, poor girl), it was actually a bit of a shock tbh lol. He snaps easily, and is lazy, does not want to try even one bit, and is happy to run away from his responsibilities whenever he can.

And not only I'm not saying that in a judgy way this time either, but I'm actually saying it in a good way. He really felt like your average middle schooler, and it was so refreshing to see. That, plus the fact the narrative never holds it against him, let alone punishes him for it even if he's made to grow out of these traits, and it's literally part of his character arc, is kind of unique for the shonen genre (maybe, I'm not exactly a specialist of shonen mangas lol).

And I can see why you'd want to change it in fics, but personally I think it really makes his character's arc even more meaningful.

[randomidiocyncrazies]

2.43 ep 5 thoughts: Oda and Aoki edition

sooo as you all know i’m an Oda (and Oda/Aoki) stan, so I just wanna take some time to talk about Oda and Aoki’s dynamics in episode 5 and compare it to the book a little

as a note, I’ll be commenting using my translated copy of the novel, which I’m pretty sure is based on the tankobon edition of the first arc (‘S1′); there may be some revisions in the bunkobon edition that i don’t have access to

[2.43 BOOK SPOILERS AHEAD]

while i think the tension during the club activity suspension had been downgraded from “this is a huge blow to team morale :O” to “hm, i guess people are kind of annoyed?” and we didn’t get to witness Aoki and Oda flying off the handle, I do appreciate that the seniors are presented as a unit in handling the younger team members, especially that Oda was able to stop Aoki with a glance in the anime (as shown above).

this strong partnership also leads us to the scene where they are hanging out together on break at one of their houses and communicating with each other about the incident, even though they have different opinions about it: Oda believes in Yuni’s innocence, while Aoki is holding a grudge (based on his words and expression). (also, what a gorgeous house!) 

there is no similar scene, or even a reference to something like this, in the book—this is because, as alluded earlier, the team suspension is presented as way more devastating to team morale than it was presented in the anime

in the book Aoki’s displeasure towards Yuni had a sharper edge; not only was Aoki the ‘lead interrogator’ during the team’s questioning of Yuni, but he also hauled Yuni up by his shirt collar when he thought Yuni’s refusal to explain what happened was him not taking this seriously. 

Oda actually had to physically intervene in the book, and although Aoki reluctantly let Yuni go, he specifically says that Yuni had “betrayed [Oda’s] trust.” When Yuni insisted that he didn’t do anything that’d cause trouble to the team and “it’s you [seniors] who refuse to take my word for it”, Aoki basically threatens to kill him if he keeps looking down on them/refusing to take this seriously. 

(Chika is also much more aggressive in the book; he tried to lunge at Yuni, but was held back by Kanno, who advised him to at least hear Yuni out, but also made it clear that they need an actual explanation out of Yuni instead of the wishy-washy stuff he’d been saying)

in the book, they make a note that Oda calming Aoki down is a rare sight that the underclassmen normally never see, which was kind of interesting in terms of how the 3rd year duo presents themselves to the team—Aoki is the cool cucumber while Oda is the excitable ‘heart’ of the team, so that line reinforces how unusual Aoki’s actions during the interrogation were. there’s also the implication that, since Aoki was so aggressive, Oda has to hold back and be the one who diffuses the situation this time.

as the argument over Yuni’s refusal to explain what exactly happened spirals out of control, Oda also reached his limit and snaps at all of them, including Aoki, to just resign if they’re just going to get in his way of playing at the Spring Tournament. this shocks everyone into silence, and Oda is so ashamed at his (”selfish”) conduct that he dismisses everyone, and it was heavily implied that he didn’t really speak to any of the team members during the month that club activities were suspended (horrified at his outburst during the last meeting).

in the epilogue (which timing-wise roughly corresponds to the after-credit scene in ep 5), it’s implied that Aoki was the one who reached out to Itoko’s friends in an attempt to figure out what went down during the incident, and Oda and Aoki have a rather touching reconciliation conversation.

essentially, Aoki walks in to the club’s supply office to see Oda taking care of the equipment. When Aoki pointed out that Oda doesn’t have to do all this as he’s the captain, Oda felt that it’s penance for “being the first one who gave up”:

“Nobody thought you’ve given up, you know.” Aoki sat down at the end of the bench, the worn wood creaking under his weight. Just as he was about to pick up one of the balls by his feet, he noticed—the “Seiin High School” written in marker on all of the balls are facing up in the same direction. 

Oda isn’t the kind of person who’d deliberately make sure the equipment was laid out uniformly, so it was easy to imagine that he got in early to maintain the equipment, as well as the way he stared at the name written across each ball he cleaned with deep emotion before putting it down naturally, with the school name facing in the same direction.

“If you weren’t the captain, the team would probably be finished and unable to make a comeback. It’s because of you that everyone is willing to push through these circumstances. You should be proud of that.”

“That’s because you went around to help me make nice with the underclassmen in the background, right?”

“No, I didn’t do anything to soothe them at all. Besides, I was only doing it for your sake before.”

Honestly, Aoki wanted to smack the hell out of Kuroba [...] While the others were more or less sympathetic after the whole incident was cleared up by Kuroba Itoko, Aoki still couldn’t quite forgive him. If it wasn’t for that brat, things would never have gotten to such a state.

“On this topic... Aoki, are you sure? If you retire now, you’d have plenty of time to get ready for your entrance exams.”

“Shin, stop bringing such an ancient topic up.” Aoki rested his elbows on the back of the bench. “There’s no time for you to feel guilty. Isn’t this the practice you’ve been looking forward to for so long? You have to show them you want this more than anything. Come now, before the others show up, hold your head high.”

Dipping his head down to look at Oda, Aoki thought Ah, so we’ve become old geezers too. Every time he looked at Kuroba and Haijima, he couldn’t help but think that Oda’s skin had a healthier glow back then; is it because he had gotten skinnier... no, no, he had built up some proper muscles since then, so maybe it’s just his face that looks tired?

It had been two and a half years since then. The first time he saw this shorty was when he’d been poked in the back, Oda’s eyes glittering as he chattered away about the “super ace.” He had been unwavering in the pure, naïve belief that he’d grow and become a super ace back then.

“I’m... really blessed.” Oda said quietly with a sniffle. He wiped the corner of his eyes, and when he lifted his head he expression on his face was one of happiness, though it was mixed with faint embarrassment. 

No, I think you’re pretty unfortunate. Aoki’s sure that, if he had been in Oda’s situation, he’d have given up on himself a long time ago. [...] Oda’s the type of person that, even when he’s forced to give up on his dream to become a super ace due to the unsurmountable challenge of his height, he’s still able to say he’s blessed with a straight face.

“Also, there’s one other thing I wanted to apologize for.” Oda hunched his back, clearing his throat sheepishly.

“What is it? Like I said, it’s fine.”

“I heard that you got a girlfriend, and went around on dates. I thought, ‘the team’s in a pinch and that guy had the time to play around with girls?!’ Honestly, I was really mad.”

“Pfft—” Aoki couldn’t help but laugh. When Oda looked at him in confusion, he covered his mouth with a hand and shifted his gaze away. “Don’t worry about it, there’s nothing going on.”

“You contacted the girls from the other school because you’re looking up leads for what happened with Kuroba, right? Still, even if you didn’t get a girlfriend, I think it’s only natural that you’d be popular; you’re really tall and smart after all.”

“Shin... can we just drop this?” Aoki interrupted, feeling his temples throb. He was a little angry, but... oh well, it’s fine if Oda doesn’t understand.

(2.43 S1 Epilogue part 3)

(Aoki is pining SO HARD he can be a frickin’ tree 🌲 he already has the height covered :V) 

in a previous post examining the Oda/Aoki dynamic, I’ve talked about how they seem to be at cross purpose when it comes to understanding the other’s motivation—we’ve seen Oda being confused by why Aoki would devote himself to him back in Chapter 3 (it’s because he is in love with you thinks your pure drive is admirable); and now the “I’m really blessed”/‘no I think you’re unfortunate’ exchange from Aoki’s point of view shows Aoki’s blind spot. it’s not explicitly stated, but to me it’s pretty clear that Oda was talking about having the team, and more specifically about having Aoki’s support, which is what makes him blessed. Aoki, though he’s not wrong about Oda being an optimist, seems to have missed (or dismissed) what Oda was really trying to say here

all in all, both the anime and the book have shipping material for Oda/Aoki, but in slightly different ways; in the anime it’s more of a stable and straightforward dynamic (which makes it easier for the anime staff and the viewers to handle, since there’s no opportunity to devote precious run-time to an in depth exploration of their characters and dynamic), while in the book it’s a bit more complicated, where it feels like they’re on the verge of something but it’s never addressed explicitly

or, in the terms of fanfic tropes, in the anime they give off strong established couple vibes, while in the book they’re more about the pining and miscommunication

EDIT: lmao the staff sure knows their marketing huh. they really said "Dinner at the Aoki Household" huh. (I guess the implication is that Oda slept over that night? or at the very least had dinner at Aoki’s place)

honestly it's rly interesting to sketch out the dynamic i want to explore in Oda/Aoki fics, because i see them as an established couple in the anime (sir they DATIN’), while i maintain that they have not gotten together yet in the books (and won’t until after Aoki had gone off to college)

(also, just to be clear, i don't think Oda/Aoki would ever be 'canon' in the sense that it'll be officially/explicitly confirmed. i just like their dynamic and i’m having fun with it)

[gilded-green]

Happy 10th Anniversary To That Fic I Need To Update

That’s right, today marks 10 years since I posted the first chapter of Gilded Green back on good ol’ Fanfiction Dot Net! The fic itself, of course, is older than that, because it took me over two years to write, but the point still stands.

Happy birthday to my baby!

It wasn’t the first fic I’d published, but it was definitely the one I’d put the most work into at the time. Stingrae was a major support and a fantastic beta, and there’s no way I could’ve gotten the darn thing written without her. She held my virtual hand through brainstorming sessions and writing marathons and that time I decided I’d just have to let the brainwashing be as awful and creepy as it had to be and that time I drank too much tea and she gently told me to stop because my messages were riddled with typos, and ALSO that time she told me to stop obsessing over the calendar and timeline I was creating for ATLA itself and GO TO SLEEP ALREADY. XD

I still remember being oh-so-nervous about posting it, after years of trying to get it right. Feeling kinda bad that I only managed to get it to my liking after the ATLA fandom had started to die down. Wondering if anyone would bother reading it, considering it focused on an unpopular villain, minor characters, and a ton of OCs. Getting all giddy and super happy when the reviews started to come in and people actually liked it!

And people still like it, so many years later! And I’ve kept writing and shared so many more stories with y’all and made quite a few friends ever since! (If you’re a regular commenter of mine I love you and you’re my fandom friend even if we’ve never had a conversation outside of fic comments, I don’t make the rules.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  )

Unfortunately I don’t have much to celebrate with. I would’ve LOVED to finally have GG2 ready to go, or even rewrite GG itself as a 10th anniversary edition that’s more in line with my current writing style and some updated worldbuilding/character development that I’ve come up with in the years since, but given last year and this year and everything else that’s going on I just haven’t had the spoons to do any of that. :P

BUT I’d still like to commemorate this kinda-momentous occasion somehow, SO! If anyone is interested, this is an open invitation to come by my ask box if you’d like to:

Ask questions

Make comments

Copy/paste a chunk of text from the fic (GG itself or anything else in the series) for me to leave DVD-commentary-style musings on

Ask the characters any questions

Ask me when GG2 is coming (please don’t ask me when GG2 is coming)

Tell me your favorite character/part/worldbuilding/whatever

Send me a bunch of emojis

Ask me about my Sburb headcanons for my OCs

Ask me about my Hogwarts House headcanons for my OCs

Idk, whatever else you think might be fun

Whether you saw Gilded Green on FFdotnet ten years ago or only just discovered it, whether you’ve ever commented on it or not, I’d just like to thank you for taking your time to read my story. I know I’m slow at writing, and that it’s easy to assume my stuff is abandoned, but I really do appreciate everyone who’s allowed me to share my fic with them. You’re all fantastic, and I love you!

<3<3<3

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters | Chapter 10: Believer

Hello everyone!

I apologize for my lack of posting. I have barely survived midterms and I have found myself with a writers block once more. I am hopefully going to be able to give myself a little break between the end of the semester and after finals and the beginning of my summer courses. Thankfully I only have 2 summer classes so hopefully that will make it easier to post. 

I have some announcements coming up soon and I will hopefully finish writing the missing chapters for this story and only have to post and edit. So far, I have not been able to edit anymore so I apologize for any grammatical error. 

I really hope you are enjoying reading the story because I had a really great time writing it. Hope you have a great weekend!

I apologize for constant flashbacks but they are important to the plot, I promise!

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 4k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog​

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(This gif is not mine)

Chapter 10: Believer

"Very well, this seems like a good start." She said as she finished reading his confession. She moved towards the camera and turned it off, signaling that she would be taking the paper and would adhere to her part of the deal.

"What is she doing?" Spencer whispered to Emily. "Without a video confession, the written one can be considered coerced. We would be back at square one."

"There is the surveillance camera, genius."

"Of course she has a backup plan." He looked at the black camera, smiling at the knowledge.

"Now tell me, who left you, was it, mom or dad?"

"My dad." She readjusted in her seat. "How many victims did you kill total. We've found five, but it seems to me that is a low number for someone as angry as you."

"Fifteen, some of them are lost in the desert, some are by the arches, they should be found fairly soon." He shrugged and continued to look at her. "Why did he leave?"

"My mother got pregnant when she was young. It was a mistake, they didn't love each other. They married because of me, so it was only a matter of time before they broke, and break they did." She fought the urge to look back, hoping that nobody aside from Hotch would review the security tape. "Did you kill your father?"

"First one. He's in the arches, his favorite place in the world."

"Did your mom not accept his apology?"

"Well, he didn't really apologize until I had a gun to his head, but my mother was always kind, so she forgave him."

"Why did you kill him then?"

"I didn't forgive him." He winked at her. "Did you look for him?"

"I did."

"And?"

"That's your fourth question."

"I don't care, I want to know."

"He is dead. As dead as can be." She said out loud for the first time. "I hired a private investigator and found he crashed his car two years after he left us."

"Karma is a bitch."

"Why keep killing if you got rid of him?"

"For the same reason, you joined the FBI." He smiled at her, "to show my dad that he wasn't gonna dictate my life. That I was not going to let him be my end goal."

"It seems to me he is. You tracked him down, killed him. For some that might be enough. But you never got closure so you decided to pray on people who made mistakes. Where did you find them?"

"I worked at a counselors office."

"Well, that is rather obvious now. Maybe you should have gotten some help yourself." She stood, ready to leave the room, "hope you enjoy prison." She turned to exit the room.

"My final question, if you had found him, what would you have said?"

"I don't know." She responded.

"Bullshit."

"Well, I couldn't  ask him why  he left because I already know that, so I don't really know what I would have said." She turned to him, "what did you tell him?"

"I told him trousers weren't his thing." He stood, the handcuffs falling from his hands as his smile grew wider. "You should really be more careful with what you leave laying here, doctor."She reached for her gun but everything happened so fast she had no time to fire it. He seemed to run into the wall, only this one was not as hard as it seemed and a giant chunk collapsed as he made his way through, and just like that he had exited the station. Prentiss and Reid rushed in and through the now giant hole in the station but the man was nowhere to be found. Lucas Heavensbee had just vanished on her watch.

"Fuck!" She yelled and made her way to the office, the team was now making their way to the interrogation room but stopped in their tracks as they saw her approach. "I need access to the security cameras, now." She moved towards the security office and asked for the feed of the last couple of weeks to be played, there she found there were about three days missing. "He planned this, and someone helped him. He knew exactly what he was doing. That bastard played us!" She rushed out and into an SUV, driving directly to his house that was now under surveillance. She looked around, looking for anything that would indicate he had been there. It was fast to spot it, he had managed to slide through the police cars and left a note for her.

I just wanted to make sure you knew this had nothing to do with you doctor, but I simply can't let my father win. I am sure we will hear from each other, and then we can converse from one orphan to another. Until then.

She was ready to show the note to them, as Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid made their way through the house. The note was still crumpled in her hand, but as the local police entered she decided against it. The two agents were the best people she had ever met, she knew it since the moment she joined the FBI, and she knew they were trying to make her feel better about the whole situation, but there were some things she couldn't get past. This man had killed fifteen people and kidnapped so many more and he had slipped right through her fingers. He had made a fool of her, and she would be damned if she didn't catch him. Telling Emily and Spencer would worry them, and they would be on her case about it becoming an obsession, just like she had done after their first case.

One year ago (I think?)

Her leg bounced as she drove with the social worker and two of her co-workers. This was her first big assignment, and she wasn't sure she would measure up. It was also important to note that while Emily and she tended to get along well, Spencer and she hadn't spoken almost at all since the sweater incident.

"Should I introduce you as FBI agents?"

"No, I think it's best if we come as social workers, there is less hostility." Prentiss' said as she gave both Reid and her their fake badges. She placed her FBI ID inside her bag and took a deep breath, it was a simple mission, they would be in and out.

Never, and I mean never, say something will be easy, as this almost assures you that is not the case. The social worker, whose name was Daisy, had been shot and was now dead. They had become trapped in the middle of a war between the cult leaders and the local police. It's as if the universe wished to remind her just how much bad luck she could have.

She heard them talking to the FBI, and food had been delivered so she assumed they had implanted microphones. Now they had to find a way to communicate with them and let them know what they had concluded.

"Which one of you is it?" The man said as he pointed a gun at them.

"Are we playing tag?" She asked stupidly, earning a glare from her partners.

"Do you think this is a joke? Which one of you is the FBI agent?" She turned to look at the woman and man, trying her hardest not to freak out.

"What are you talking about?" Spencer asked, clearly nervous.

"I will ask you one more time, and if none of you tell me I will not hesitate to shoot all three of you. Which one is the FBI agent?"

She saw Emily stir and knew she had to act fast if she wanted to save her. "I am." She said before either of them could stop her. "I'm the FBI agent. Though I'm fairly new so I don't really have that many secrets to tell. I was barely cleared to be on the field. If you really think about it, I'm not very helpful, so I think maybe if you let it slide I could-" she felt a fist connect with her right cheekbone, silencing her.

"Take her to the back." He instructed one of the men. She gave one last reassuring glance to her teammates, hoping this wouldn't be the last time she saw them.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, the door to the room she was in opened and Ben came in. You would think that having a name like Benjamin wouldn't exactly command respect, but she wasn't one to judge cults.

"Why are you here?"

"Because you told your men to lock me here." He slapped her across the face.

"Who sent you?"

"My boss?" Her response was received with another slap.

"Do you think this is a joke?"

"I think that you need to feel powerful because a part of you knows you're not enough." She spoke hoping her team could hear part of their discovery, even if she was receiving punches from the man as she continued. "You think you can get away with stuff because you prayed on the week, but deep down you know that there are people here who could stand up to you, and if they did you would be done for." She felt a warm liquid fall from her lips as he continued to beat her. "I know you pray on young girls. You're nothing more than a pedophile that uses the bible as a way to manipulate women to give their children to you." As she fell he started kicking her and she tried to avoid making noise, but the pain was too much. "This is nothing, I've dealt with worse." She spoke, hoping they would understand. "I've dealt with much worse, this is nothing."

"Who do you think you are?!" The man said, enraged at her defiance.

"Nobody, just the one person that knows you better than you know yourself." That earned her the hardest hit, and she knew she wouldn't be conscious for much longer, she had to let them know. "Your suicide won't work, there are people that are skeptical and you know it. This isn't about God, or even your preferences, this is about you Ben, and how you are so terrified to go back to prison you are willing to kill your followers to avoid it, because you know they would see right through your act, you are nothing but a coward." The last kick took place and the man left the room. "Don't change the plan, I'm okay." She whispered, hoping they could hear her, wishing that even if she died right then and there, they could save the people trapped in this church.

When she woke, a woman was there tending her wounds. "Be careful, I think you might have some broken ribs."

"Don't tell Ben, he might come and finish me off" she joked, but the woman gave her a pointed look as if letting her know that was a possibility. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"I don't know, maybe a couple of hours. They will come and get you for the ceremony, use you as an example."

"That's okay, I've always wanted to be one of those."

"This is not a joke girl, he's dangerous."

"I know. The trick is to have nothing to lose."

"Well, I have a daughter."

"Ben's wife, right?" The woman flinched at the mention. "You're not okay with that, are you?" And then, the pieces of the puzzle fit together. "You made the call, didn't you?" Before the woman could confirm her suspicion, a man entered and pulled her up, not worrying if her body ached, and took her to the church. She used the door frame to help her stabilize herself and took in the sight before her. It was still light, but with the time she lost she couldn't be sure how much time they actually had left. Emily and her locked eyes and she approached, her eyes full of worry, but her facial expression was one of pure anger and hatred. "On a scale of one to ten, how much do you hate me?"

"How could you lie to us?" She asked, and as the men made their way to the front, her tone didn't change, but her questions did. "Are you crazy? Why would you do such a stupid thing? They could have killed you."

"I know, but it was either me or all three of us. Besides, I'm fine. We need you and Reid on the inside."

"This is reckless behavior."

"I know, but you were about to do the same."

"I have experience."

"Exactly, I can be a scapegoat."

"You are the most stubborn person I have ever met."

"I know, it's a gift. Now listen, I think there are mics, in the food, and if I'm right, I think I have been able to feed some information to the team, but we need to figure out when this massive suicide will take place."

Emily nodded and gave her an apologetic look before shoving her harshly. She fought the urge not to wince but it was almost impossible with her broken ribs. "You are a disgrace to this country, and I hope whoever you work for knows that they will not get away with it."

Ben looked over and stared at her, and despite her pain and the fear of another beating, she stared him down, letting him know that he would not get the best of her. She was gonna save as many people as possible and he could suck it. He was just another man who thought they were invisible because they weren't afraid to beat you up.

Spencer observed the interaction and the defiance she had amazed him. Despite the bruises and the swelling of her eye, not once did she lower her gaze or show any sign of weakness. Never in his life had he felt so attracted to someone as he did right then and there, but now was not the time to daydream of your coworkers, especially when they could be on the verge of dying.

As the day progressed, she continued to look for ways to tell the team, finally resorting to using the window to write a message. When she was younger she used to huff into a window to create fog and used it to write, so she did the same, letting the team know she could possibly convince some people to exit and they could come in after.

"What are you doing?" The woman from earlier spoke as she entered the room.

"If I'm gonna die, I might as well go doing something I like. Fog drawings." She said and covered her work. "Listen, don't ask me how I know this, but the FBI might strike tonight and if they do, he's not gonna cooperate, we need to get as many people as possible out."

"No, I can't do that."

"Please, I know you're scared, I'm terrified right now. I might have peed my pants earlier today, but that's not the point. The point is we need to save as many people as possible. Please help me get them out." Through the window she saw a figure, holding three fingers up. She nodded and turned back to the woman.

"Three a.m.?"

"You saw him too?"

"Yeah, one would think the FBI would be a little more discrete."

"We have our moments. Now please, make sure to get everyone out before then." The woman sighed and nodded, agreeing to the plan. "And one more thing, the people I came with, how are they?"

"Are they also agents?"

"No, of course not. I just dragged them into this and feel responsible for them. They are good people."

"The man seems to be fascinated by Ben, and vice versa. The woman keeps pacing around as if hoping for enlightenment. She has talked to some people though."

"Okay good. Please make sure to get them out too." After she left and closed the door, the woman sat down, her injuries making it hard to breathe. "I don't know where I am, or how to get out, but that will not change the plans okay? I need to make sure all these people are safe."

She wished she could hear someone ensuring her that would be the case, but there was no answer. She felt herself get dizzy and knew there was definitely internal damage that would take time to heal. Turns out her mother was wrong, money couldn't get you out of everything. It felt like an eternity, but she knew the time was approaching. She saw and more and more dark figures gathered around the church. She even caught a glimpse of Derek, who seemed to be looking around, as if hoping he could find her. She huffed one last time and wrote a message to him.

The door opened and nobody came in. She knew what it meant, so she gathered her remaining strength and walked out. Everything was dark and she could hear Spencer's voice coming from the main room. She followed it and stopped as she noticed him trying to talk a man down from placing explosives. She cursed under her breath. She stepped forward only to be pulled back by someone.

"Don't even think about it." The man said.

"Derek, we need to help him."

"I know, I'll go, join the rest. Everyone is already out."

"But-"

"Go!" She began walking out before it all happened. Reid ran towards them and Derek pulled the both of them to the nearest and hopefully safest area before a sharp pain on her head made her vision blurry and soon after she lost consciousness.

"I think she will appreciate it if you showered." She heard someone say, once she finally regained consciousness.

"Well, then she can tell me that herself." Another voice responded.

"Emily, you and Spencer have been here for a week. You need to go to the hotel and rest. At least the kid has been using the shower."

"I am not leaving until she wakes up. That includes leaving to bathe."

"Neither am I." A third voice added to the mix. "Though I can't say the same thing about avoiding water."

"How am I supposed to leave if I can't trust the two of you to take care of yourselves?"

"Easy, your flight leaves in less than an hour and you are still here. Unless you want to be paying fees you will get out of here."

There was a sigh of resignation before the voice spoke once more. "Reid, you're in charge until she wakes up. Then she's in charge."

"You're gonna put the one of us that was hit in the head 'in charge'? What does that even mean?" The female voice complained.

"I have made my decision. Maybe if you showered, things would be different." The voice faded, and the steps of the person became less clear, so she assumed the person was leaving.

"I think Morgan is right, you should take a shower."

"Don't make me hurt you, Reid."

"It was just a suggestion."

She didn't want to interrupt their banter, but her urge to sneeze was bigger, so she let her body do its thing. Though it is important to let you know that sneezing with broken ribs is horrible.

"She's awake!" Emily screamed and launched herself onto the bed. She started crying from pain after the action. "You're so happy you're crying!"

"Prentiss, that might be because you just jumped on her ribs." The man clarified as he stood, placing his hand on hers. The feeling was foreign, but she could let it slide once.

"I am so sorry! But I am so happy you're awake."

"What happened?"

"After the explosion, you hit your head, and because you already had injuries your body gave out, exhausted. Thankfully the ambulance was already there and we could rush you to the hospital. You've been sleeping for a good week." He explained.

"Well, then I don't get a lazy day for another three months." She joked and the two joined her. "How are the believers?"

"They're all safe and accounted for. Sadly we lost Ben's wife."

"Does her mom know?"

"Yes, but she wanted me to tell you she doesn't blame you and hopes you do get better." There was a moment of silence, as she processed the message, as well as her guilt.

"And I want you to know I ate your Jell-O." This caused her to laugh again. No matter how painful it felt, she was glad to be alive.

"Remind me to never get stuck in a hospital under the care of Spencer Reid. He'll eat my Jell-O."

"Let's make it a no trip to the hospital policy."

"Do I need to remind you where we work?" The woman shook her head, and both of them looked at her with a heartwarming smile. "I hate to break this moment, but please go shower, Prentiss."

"Ugh, fine." She placed a kiss on her forehead and moved out. "Reid, if anything happens, call me. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Got it."

She walked out and the two remained silent for a couple of minutes. Their hands were still together and she squeezed it to get his attention. "How are you doing? I wasn't the only one that got caught in the blast."

"I'm good. Morgan and I barely had a scratch, they cleared us that same day."

"That's good. What about the rest of the team?"

"They are all good. They wanted to stay but they had another case, Hotch said your family was out of reach so Emily and I refused to leave. Morgan also stayed behind but they called him up today, without three agents they needed all the help they could get."

"You guys didn't need to stay." She assured him. His grip on her hand tightened, enough to let her know he wasn't letting go, but not enough to hurt her.

"You could've died. Because of me."

"That's not true and you know it."

"I should've said I was the agent."

"We both know the reason he didn't kill me was that I'm a woman. You wouldn't have been so lucky."

"Still."

"Reid, listen to me. This is not your fault, and this is not Emily's fault either. I knew what I was getting into, and I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"You are one stubborn woman."

"I know." She smiled at him, "now please go find me some Jell-O."

He laughed, but nodded, letting go of her hand. Just before he exited the room he turned and gave her the most endearing look she had ever seen, "thank you, for saving our lives. I'll never forget that."

"Good, that way I can ask for favors at any time." They both chuckled and he left the room hunting for the dessert.

The reality in her brain, however, was not as calm as she portrayed. For months she had obsessed over what she had done wrong, and she had spent sleepless nights thanks to her recurring nightmare, in which Ben didn't hesitate to pull the trigger, and as she watched Spencer and Emily's bodies lie in a pool of blood. This alone was enough to make her train and perfect her skills, to the point of complete exhaustion. She wasn't going to fail, not again.

That was until Lucas Heavensbee had brought her right back to her dark hole.

[prettyflyshyguy]

Oops I wrote more C virus stuff

I got super energised and spent all night drafting up a one-shot about what happens when Ashley reunites with Leon post RE6 in the C-Virus AU cannon. It’s unfinished and is very much a draft, but I’m excited so I wanted to post what I have so far. I intend on compiling a bunch of these together and putting them up as chapters on AO3 and Fanfic.net once they’re edited, featuring various different characters.

You came this far just to become a Monster - The Aftermath

A brief summary: Ashley visits Leon while he’s stuck in quarantine. It gets a bit emotional. 

I’m assuming the President in RE6 was the same in RE4 despite the uh long time difference between the two games. It’s 9 years and I’m Australian so I know nothing about American politics but I think a president can only serve 8 years in one stint so uh maybe he’d just been elected in 4 and was just running out of time before he died in 6? I’m rolling with that for the sake of my head-cannon/AU storylines. It makes sense given Leon was described as being good friends with him, and we can assume the friendship started once he got Ashley back home safely after the events of 4. 

Given Ashley was 19/20 during RE4 she should be 28/29 post RE6 depending on her birthday. 

-

The conversation with Hunnigan echoed in her mind as she walked down the labs corridor. 

“While pursuing Chief Security Advisor Simmons, Leon became infected with the C Virus. He’s OK, don’t worry. It’s just we’re still running tests to make sure he’ll stay ok.

I know the report I gave you didn’t have much to go on in it, I’m sorry. I wasn’t allowed to provide you with much more information. You’ll just have to wait until you can see him for yourself.

He’s happy to talk with you, you can go down to the labs today if you’d like.”

“He’s happy to talk? You mean I can’t see him?”

The warm smile was betrayed by the sorrow in Hunnigan’s eyes. 

“He’s still adjusting to everything. He’s spoken to a couple of our doctors and he’s dealing with a lot of internal negative emotions right now, about what people think of him. I don’t think the tests are helping.”

Hunnigan reached out and gently held Ashley’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be happy to have you visit. It’s what he really needs right now. Trust me.”

-

Standing outside the viewing room door, holding her keycard at the ready, she steeled herself. The way the security staff described the setup, Leon had access to a shutter system on the viewing window, giving him control over how and when visitors can see him. It allowed him much needed privacy given his life since coming home was endless tests and scans and scientists. 

Tapping her card against the reader, the light flicked green and she heard the lock release. Pressing down on the cold handle, she slipped inside. There was a small coffee table near the viewing window, the shutter was down. A few chairs were on the far wall, she pulled one up to the window and sat down. On the table there was a remote control, it looked custom made for the setup. It only had a handful of buttons, the most important of which was a ‘call’ button that she was told would alert Leon that someone was in the room, and a ‘mic on’ button. The room had an inbuilt microphone and speaker system to allow comfortable communication even if large groups were there. 

It felt uncomfortably sterile. Worse than a hospital. She looked up to the top left corner of the room, where a security camera stared back. She was also told Leon had access to the feed. She wondered if he was watching now? Hunnigan said she’d call ahead. Was he waiting for her to do something first? Would he be upset that she was so hesitant? 

Shaking off the feeling she hit both buttons on the controller and flashed a smile and a wave towards the security camera, for good measure.

A moment passed before she heard a light clicking sound on the intercom, before a voice emerged.

“Ashley, hey…”

She was surprised that he sounded so… Normal. She wasn't sure what she expected, no one had given her any information other than that he’d been infected but he hadn’t lost his mind. There was an extensive report written about the events that went down, she’d been able to convince the BSAA to let her read a copy of it but it was heavily redacted. Particularly the parts pertaining to Leon. 

“It’s… good to see you.”

She was relieved to hear the sincerity in his voice, despite how slightly rough around the edges he sounded. He was Leon, that hadn’t changed. But she could tell he was different all the same.

“It’s good to, uh, hear you, haha..”

Her feet shuffled, she started bouncing one leg. Looking longfully at the window glass with the shutter still closed. She was fine with phone calls but this was making her nervous. It hadn’t been that long ago that they’d last spoke, that they’d last caught up in person. 

“I’m sorry, about your dad. I’m sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral. I’m sorry for everything, Ashley.”

“It’s ok, Leon. You did everything you could.”

Despite the lack of contact, the uncomfortable fog in the room was palpable for both parties. Her leg bouncing rate increased. Shuffling could be heard over the intercom speaker. They each heard the pain in the other’s voice. The wound was still fresh and very deep. 

Not wanting to have that conversation to a wall, Ashley attempted to change the subject.

“So how are you holding up? I mean with the tests and everything. Hunnigan said you shouldn't have to be in isolation much longer.”

“Uhh yeah… It’s fine. I’m doing fine.”

She let out a small sigh.

“You can’t bullshit me, Leon.”

Silence. 

“You’ve been stuck inside that room for almost three months now. You must be tired of it, and lonely.”

She paused, before continuing.

“When I got back from Europe after you rescued me, they kept me in isolation for precautionary testing for two weeks. They were paranoid I guess. I know for you they didn’t need long to clear you of any issues. Those two weeks were the worst of my life.”

“Worse than being injected with a mind-controlling parasite?” he joked back. 

“Much, much worse.” she playfully replied, “I didn’t have a strong, capable, and handsome government agent to save me from a bunch of creepy scientists in hazmat suits.”

She heard what sounded like a muffled laugh. A smile crossed her face. 

“Unfortunately for me the only ‘strong, capable, and handsome’ government agent I know is limited to Visitors on Wednesdays only.”

This made Ashley giggle suddenly, the first time she’d properly and genuinely laughed since before the C-Virus incident even occurred. 

“When I came home, Dad was so worried. He just wanted to make sure I was gonna be ok. He was always so busy and worked so hard. He just wanted to make sure he could change something for the positive. In the end you made sure that happened. You and Helena.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and gently dropped off her chin. Followed by another.

“I’d known Simmons for just about my whole life, he’d had family dinners with us, we’d visit his house frequently. Dad had confided in him about so much I just… I can’t believe he’d betray us like that. I can’t believe he would be so selfish.”

The tears were making it hard for her to see, her words were mixed in with sharp breaths as she began to sob.

“He killed dad and all those people, after everything, he just fucking killed him and killed everyone else and burned it to the ground all for what!! And now he’s gone and I don’t know what to do, Leon I just don’t know what to fucking do!”

She cried for a moment, letting the anger and the grief flow. Purging her system, letting it out. As she started to calm down she pulled a packet of tissues from her bag, to clean her face.

“I want to make a difference. I want to do something, like dad did.” she said slowly through strained breaths.

“I never want to feel helpless and small ever again. After you rescued me in Europe, after everything you did to stop Simmons, I want to do something for the world too.” 

She glanced up at the security camera, as if it would respond back somehow. Hoping he was watching.

“You and dad made me realise what I wanted to do with my life, what I cared most about. I even changed my college degree to International Relations when I got home but I mean, you already know that. Now with the BSAA here, I’ve asked Hunnigan if she can help me shift my career slightly, and work with you and everyone else here.”

“Really? You want to work for the BSAA?”

She nodded, not knowing if he could even see. Taking the moment to have a drink from her water bottle to gather herself.

“... I’ll put in a personal recommendation, if they’re still accepting those from me after everything.”

“Thank you Leon, I’m sure they will.” Ashley smiled.

“Well if they let me do anything, once the tests are cleared, I’d like to go visit your old man with you. If you don’t mind. I couldn’t be there for the funeral so… “

“Of course Leon,” she wiped a tear from her eye, “I’d love that. I’m sure dad would too.”

“I think you’d be great here, we need more people like you Ashley.”

“Of course, someone needs to be around to stop you getting into more trouble right?”

She was hoping for a smart ass response, a laugh, a quip, something. Her comment was met with silence. Her heart sank.

“What happened to you, Leon?”

He avoided responding, she could hear more slight shuffling noises.

“I know you feel uncomfortable, god knows I would too. Everyone’s talking about you, saying you’re a hero. You and all the others that worked together to stop the C-Virus from spreading. You saved people's lives.”

“... I don’t think you’d be calling me that if you could see me right now.”

The most she’d gotten to read about the effects of the virus on him were small comments about carapace and ‘external structural changes’. In all honestly she had no idea what he looked like, if he was even recognisable. She didn’t really know how to ask, besides the fact she really only knew Hunnigan well enough to be confident posing the question.

“I wouldn’t know. No one’s shown me any photos of you. I have no idea.”

He was silent again.

“But you’re still you, in the end. Does it matter what you look like?”

“It does when you look like a monster.”

She recoiled slightly at the tone of his voice.

“When I was in China, when it happened. It didn’t really matter to me. People's lives were at stake, Simmons was out there, I embraced it in the moment because I couldn't let people down. I needed to do something. I couldn't just give up and avoid facing the world. But now? I’m stuck in this cell and every few days I get more needles poked into me and more scans and more people asking me stupid fucking questions and I just.”

He paused suddenly. Breathing for a few moments.

“I can’t deal with all of this. I’m as good as a lab animal now. And why would anyone think any differently if they saw what I’ve become.”

“C’mon, don’t say that.”

Suddenly the shutter began to move upwards, a brighter light from the room beyond the glass spilling in. It took Ashley a moment to adjust before she could fully stare at the figure sitting opposite her.

“If you were in trouble and the thing that came to help you looked like this, would you still call it a hero?” 

[ryqoshay]

OTP Ask Meme (Impatient Edition) NicoMaki

Yeah, I know the point of these things is to wait for followers to Ask questions from the list, but reading though this one got me thinking too much. And, as the title implies, I got impatient and wanted to answer them all. Right away.

Anyway, credit to @lonelypond​ for this version coming across my dash. Reblog that version if you want to do this thing correctly.

Also, just because I’ve already answered these here, I’ve expanded on some for various reasons and left others short if I believe the reasons are obvious. So if you still want to do the whole interactive thing, you can still ask for clarification or whatever.

And finally, there will be spoilers ahead for How to Handle a Nico, both scenes I’ve written and posted, as well as some that remain in my Notes and WIP Warehouse. I’ll try to remember to link to the chapters mentioned.

1. Who wakes up first?

Nico, so she can make breakfast for her Maki.

2. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Maki. Usually because she studies or works later and/or longer hours. She is also not above pulling Nico back into bed when she comes to wake her.

3. Who takes longer getting ready?

Usually Nico.

4. When they can’t sleep, what do they do?

Maki’s libido can pretty much always be counted on to at least exhaust Nico, if not both of them.

5. Who falls asleep while watching a movie?

Depends on who had a rough day or week at work/school, though Maki may get bored and either watch Nico or fall asleep during overly sappy romance movies.

6. Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile?

Either, depending on the stresses of the prior day.

7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?

Nico intentionally. Maki unintentionally.

8. Who gets extremely competitive playing Mario Kart?

They both are, though in different ways. This is depicted in Consolation Prize.

9. Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling?

Maki, especially if she is in an unfamiliar place.

10. Who sets the other’s ringtone to something loud and obnoxious behind their back?

Both, though Maki only in retaliation for whatever teasing Nico may have done.

11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order?

Nico likes a proper presentation of her idol merch. Maki is too busy with other stuff to care about special organization.

12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing?

Nico.

13. Who points out a dog when they see one?

Either.

14. Who’s prone to road rage?

Maki, especially when she is trying to get to the hospital when called in at some odd hour, or trying to get home after a stressful day.

15. Who’s prone to wearing socks indoor (or to sleep)?

Nico gets cold easier. Warm socks help.

16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)?

Nico, partly out of habit from doing it with her siblings and partly as an excuse to offer to help Maki put it on. Depicted in Sunscreen.

17. Who carries all the important documents while traveling?

Nico.

18. Who gets the window seat?

Nico. Maki traveled enough with her parents and is happy to let her girlfriend see the sights instead.

19. Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?

Nico intentionally. Maki unintentionally, usually.

20. What do they argue about the most?

I don’t believe anyone has been brave enough to track the data for this.

21. Who’s clumsier?

Maki, especially in the kitchen. Nico has her moments though.

22. Who texts more often?

Nico. With heavy emoji use. (I need to depict this more in HtHaN somehow)

23. Who is better with kids?

Nico. She was the primary caregiver for her siblings for many years after all.

24. Who’s the better cook?

Nico. See above.

25. Who mistakes salt for sugar?

Maki. Even after Nico labeled the containers.

26. Who puts the fork in the microwave?

Maki.

27. Who cooks at 2 in the morning?

Nico. Maki isn’t allowed to cook without Nico’s supervision. However, this would be a rare occasion as Nico typically will prepare something ahead of when Maki is arriving home this late and leave it for her to reheat.

28. Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m.?

Maki, when she’s reheating whatever Nico made for her after arriving home late.

29. Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?

Both.

30. Who likes doing the dishes?

Nico, though it would be more appropriate to say she doesn’t dislike it.

31. Who has bigger cravings? What are they?

Nico loves her sweets. Maki loves her Nico.

32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Nico is highly attentive to Maki’s preferences in food. Knowing what Maki likes in restaurants lets her know what she can make at home. And food is definitely one of the best ways to Maki’s heart.

33. How do they eat ice cream? What’s their favorite flavors?

Nico likes sundaes with lots of sugary toppings. She also likes trying new flavors and will often get multiple scoops of different flavors. Maki is fine with a single scoop cone.

34. Do they go on dates? What are they like?

As often as their schedules allow. Maki likes quite dates like walks in a park or museum or sitting up on a hillside for stargazing. Nico likes shopping for outfits and idol merch, going to movies and bustling amusement parks. But both love watching the other enjoy their hobbies so they’re willing to go along with the other’s interests as well.

35. What do they smell when they smell Amortentia?

Nico smells her father’s aftershave, strawberries, and stewing tomatoes. Maki smells Nico’s special tomato curry, Nico’s shampoo, and the cinnamon sugar of the snickerdoodle cookies the Nishikino baker made for her to leave out for Santa.

Yes, two of Maki’s are directly related to Nico. What can I say? She’s addicted.

36. Which one is the secret snuggler?

Maki. The more tired or drunk she is, the clingier she gets.

37. Which one offers their jacket to the other when they complain they feel cold?

Maki. Nico gets cold easier, so Maki is usually the one to offer her jacket.

38. Who reaches for the other one’s hand while driving?

Yes.

39. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch?

Nico, because she is the only one who makes lunch for them both; Maki isn’t the type to do such a thing even if she were allowed to cook more. (Bonus: What does it say?) Usually the messages are simple affirmations of love, but she is not above getting snarky if the two had an argument recently.

40. Who is the most affectionate?

Nico in public. Maki in private.

41. Who is the big spoon/little spoon?

Usually, Maki is the big spoon as she is quite fond of hugging her Nico like a teddy bear, though Nico will sometimes jetpack.

42. What is their favorite feature of their partner?

Maki loves Nico’s smile, particularly her genuine, unforced, non-idol persona smile. Nico loves Maki’s voice, specifically her singing voice.

43. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Nico starts teasing Maki more, no longer to “put the spoiled rich girl in her place” but rather to see more of the adorable reactions. Maki actively tries to deny her feelings, even to, or perhaps especially to herself, falling back on established habits of insisting that she doesn’t have time to date, all the while quietly continuing to seek more time with Nico.

44. What are their nicknames for each other?

Both exclusively use -chan with the other.

45. Who worries the most? Over what?

Early on, both are worried about losing the other for different reasons. Nico is afraid that should a scandal occur that ruins her idol career, Maki may blame herself and leave. Maki fears that a busy schedule of studying in medical school followed by long hours at the hospital may turn away someone like Nico, whose attention seeking seems infinite. Later, as they settle into their relationship, their concerns turn to more stereotypical adult fears; traffic or transit accidents, sever illnesses, etc.

46. Who initiates kisses?

Nico in public. Maki in private.

47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen?

Nico, by accident, as depicted in Spoken.

48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?

Technically Maki in both cases, though with their friends, Nico was active in the chatroom, and with their mothers, Maki only beat Nico by maybe half an hour or so. These instances are depicted in Reconstructed Reunion and Telling Mama.

49. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Both have busy schedules, even as early as the years immediately following high school, so spending time away from each other is quite commonplace. This still did not stop Maki from going through a bout of depression during Nico’s first tour as a professional idol, as depicted in Homesick and Homecoming. From then on, Maki starts a tradition of visiting Nico during longer tours so as to break up their time away a bit.

50. Who gets overwhelmed by small acts of kindness?

Nico, as the more romantic of the two. This isn’t to say Maki doesn’t value sentiment, she just has other ways of expressing it than being overwhelmed.