#so I just assume all the hawke kids can sew

[baejax-the-great]

17, 19, 20! Doesn't have to be DA specific I know youre writing Hades stuff rn but that's mostly what I know.

17. Describe a fic that is still in the ‘ideas’ stage.

I had a very silly idea for a one-shot in which Dorian very suddenly becomes a cat-dad, and Varric shows up to help him out in his newfound fatherhood.

19. What’s your favorite character headcanon?

Every time I get a question like this, it's like I've never had a headcanon in my life.

Here's one. During her time in the Circle, tired of all the Fereldan stereotypes, Bethany began sewing little outfits for mabari just to be ridiculous. Hawke's mabari dutifully tolerated them all.

20. Do you have a favorite fanfic or author? If so, tag them/post a link and share the love!

For Dragon Age, I haven't read Solavellan in a long time, but one of my favorites was I Come to You with Nothing by CommonEvilMastermind. Dorian x Cullen is also not a pairing that I read much of, but We the Sunset by Stonelions is another one that stuck with me.

[janette-b]

Out Of Time - Part 2

Adrien's POV

"I still can’t believe I kissed Marinette, Plagg." Adrien confessed, admiring the ceiling.

"Me neither, kid, me neither." Plagg was nibbling on his love, Camembert as per usual.

"I don't know what got into me, I just… when I saw her eyes, oh they were beautiful and her lips, they felt so soft against mine and-" His admiration of Marinette was interrupted by Plagg.

"Ewh, you don't have to go into detail. Let me eat my cheese in peace." Plagg groaned in disgust.

"The point is I like Marinette. I know we only kissed yesterday but, I’ve known her for years! She had to have felt a connection too, why else would she have kissed me back, right?" He asked rhetorically.

"Really, Adrien? First it's Ladybug, then it's Kagami, and now it's Marinette? Are you ever gonna make up your mind kid?" 

"I mean it this time though, I was just trying to get over Ladybug with Kagami, and I don't really have a chance with Ladybug since she says she likes someone else, then there’s the fact that we can't know each other’s identities. With Marinette though, I can talk to her about almost anything, and plus she seems to also like me.”

“So you’ve finally figured it out? You must feel so dumb after how obvious it was.” Plagg cackled.

“What are you talking about, so Marinette does have a crush on Cat Noir?” Adrien seemed in awe at this piece of information.

“Are you serious- ugh forget it. To think I assumed you were smart for once. So, are you gonna ask her to go on a date or what?” Plagg rolled his eyes, disappointed that his owner hadn’t grown out his oblivious ways.

“I can’t, Plagg what if we start dating and it’s all over the news? Especially because she probably tells Alya everything. Knowing her, Alya would post it on her blog as soon as she knew. Hawk Moth is bound to find out and use it to his advantage. I can’t risk putting Marinette or her family in danger like that.”

“Well simple solution, you just ask Marinette to ask her friend to keep it a secret, how hard can it be for you humans to keep your mouth shut?”

“I guess you’re right.. it shouldn’t be a problem asking Marinette this favor. She’s always so considerate, I’m sure she’ll understand. Thanks Plagg.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re planning on going over there right now? I was gonna take a nap.” Plagg grunted, snuggling up to his cheese.

“Guess it’s gonna have to wait then." Adrien shrugged and transformed, while wearing a cheeky grin. 

Meanwhile with Marinette

“Can you make the inside fabric comfy?” Tikki asked while Marinette was choosing some fabrics.

“Don’t worry it’ll be fully Tikki-approved.” Marinette replied, wearing a bright smile.

“Thank you Marinette, sometimes I like taking a nap when you’re in class. I even sneak a cookie in from time to time.” She admitted, chuckling.

“No wonder I find crumbs in there. I’m just glad you don’t like Camembert.” Marinette teased while making a smelly gesture.

“At least I eat something normal, All Plagg eats is cheese. I mean I’d understand if it was normal cheese but Camembert? Ugh and I swear if that stinky sock calls me “Sugarcube” one more time I’m gonna explode!” Tikki scowled.

“Oh, so that’s where Cat Noir gets his flirtatious personality.” Marinette chuckled. Just as Marinette was about to continue the purse, she heard a knock on the trap door.

“Speak of the devil.” Tikki giggled, while hiding.

“Oh hey Cat, what are you doing here?” Marinette gently opened her balcony trapdoor.

“I thought I would take you up on my offer from yesterday. You know the one where I help you design and stuff?” Cat asked coyly as she led him into her bedroom.

“Oh… You mean like a- a date?” She blinked in surprise, cheeks suddenly turning pink.

“Only if you want it to be, we could just hang out as friends… if you don’t feel that way-”

“Y-Yes! I would love to go on a date with you.” Marinette burst out, unable to stop smiling.

“Really? Oh thank goodness, I thought I’d be making it awkward if I asked.” He took a breath of relief.

“Awh, was my kitty afraid I was gonna say no?” 

“Maybe just a little. Hehe” Cat Noir blushed slightly. “I just thought, well you’re a beautiful girl, Marinette I’m sure there’s plenty of other guys who would like to date someone as great as you.”

“Wow that’s- I… Thank you Cat, that's very flattering.” Marinette suddenly felt self-conscious and simpered. “Anyway.. Uh, I kind of started our date without you. I was actually just about to finish sewing the hems of the inside of my purse together so I could go to the craft store and pick out some leather for the outside of the purse.”

“Oh, okay. How can I help?” Cat Noir asked, unsure of what to do.

“Let’s see… Oh! I know you can sketch out some ideas for what to put on the outside. I was thinking of like a paw print or ooh, maybe a little black cat, Oh wait we could put a cat and then two paw prints on the sides! Hold on, let me get some inspiration from pinterest really quickly.” Cat looked at Marinette as she pulled out her phone, mesmerized by how excited she was getting to make this purse.

“I thought I was the one sketching, or did you decide to leave me empty handed?” Cat Noir teased her.

“Don’t worry kitten, you’ll get your paws on something soon, I just need to make sure you know what you’re doing. You can make a simple drawing, right?” Marinette raised a brow, teasing him right back.

“Of course, I mean I’m more of a musical artist than an actual artist but how hard can it actually be, am I right?” 

“You’d be surprised Cat Noir.” She laughed. Marinette began finishing what was left to sew, while also criticizing Cat on his drawing skills. Once finally finishing the inside of the purse, they took a trip to the craft store to get some items for the rest of the purse.

The Craft Store - Cat Noir’s POV

“I think we need to find some silver or gray leather since the cat is gonna be black, I want it to really pop against the background, ya know?” She clarified as they strolled around the fabric isles together. She looked so comfortable in this place, and him? He barely could tell the difference between all these leather fabrics and she chose them out like it was nothing. 

“Cat? Cat. Cat Noir? Is something wrong? Oh no do I have something in my hair!?” Marinette looked around nervously, and tried plucking a ghost object from her hair.

Oh no... was he staring? Awh Camembert he was!

“What? Oh, no, no. Don’t worry your hair looks as beautiful as ever, I.. was just umm-” What possible excuse could he have for staring into those mesmerizing, deep, beautiful bluebell eyes for too long? Maybe he could say that she-

“Oh I see what this is! You’re trying to be flirty with your eyes. Well listen here tomcat, I know we’ve known each other for almost 3 years now, but you’re not getting another kiss out of me that easily. Let’s just have a few dates and see where this goes... okay?” Marinette looked up at him and pointed up at his face, a bit demanding. Well at least now he didn’t have to worry about making an excuse as to why he was staring at her.

Hold on. Did she just say she wanted to have a few more dates with him? As in.. more than one? She really liked him just as much as he liked her? Cat Noir couldn’t contain his camembert-eating grin, as his heart began to beat faster for her. Plagg was right, he really did have a chance with her!

“Cat... why are you grinning like that?” Marinette narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms.

“Oh nothing. I just realized, while we’re on this date looking for fabric materials, how much I like spending time with you.” Chat Noir gave her the most affectionate smile, making eye contact with her. He could have sworn he saw her cheeks turn pink and chuckled at how adorable she looked. “Oh, that reminds me! Shouldn’t we also be looking for some accent grays to go on the linings of the purse?” He had a little bit of an idea on what clashes, what matches and all that, since his dad has worked with a bunch of designs for his company.

“Uh- Oh yeah! I almost forgot about those, let’s go find some!” Marinette grabbed his wrist and dragged him along with her to the other side of the shelves, where the darker colors were. They continued looking for a few fabrics until finally finding the perfect ones. After that they went back to the bakery and ate some delicious macaroons and continued making her Cat Noir-inspired purse. What a lovely night it was for the two teens to end off their first date.

[lady-divine-writes]

Coldflash - “Far from Helpful” (Rated PG13)

After a blast meant for Leonard Snart knocks Barry out cold and wipes his memory, Len follows the team back to STAR Labs to make sure he's alright. Of course, not being entirely welcome, he has to sneak in. But after one small slip of the tongue, Len might find himself watching over Barry permanently. (2359 words)

Written for @sparroet

Notes:  This is the first iteration of the story I wrote for @coldflashweeks Valentine’s exchange 2019 prompt - Barry suffers a permanent injury that affects his work as Flash and Len helps him to work out where to go next. Warning for a serious injury involving blood.

Read on AO3.

“Hey, Red. I’m telling ya, we have to stop meeting like this,” Len says in a low voice, gruff from barking orders that didn’t matter worth dick since no one listened to him anyway. If they had, maybe Barry wouldn’t be lying on a gurney down in the med center of STAR Labs, slipping in and out of consciousness.

Maybe he wouldn’t have had the ever-loving shit beat out of him … again. Even the fights Barry does win usually end up with him getting bashed in the head or kicked in the stomach.

Just because he has the power to super heal doesn’t erase the fact that Barry Allen gets beat up a lot.

Len is also a bit worse for the wear – a gash on his right cheek that might require stitches, a blackened left eye, an arm he’d thought was broken wrapped tight in an ACE bandage. But that’s nothing compared to what happened to Barry – slammed in the gut by a high-intensity photon blast that was meant for Len and thrown over two hundred feet straight up. Had Barry come back down the way he went, Len might have been able to break his fall, plus his whole body in the process. But Barry had traveled, and Len abandoned the fight, abandoned his team, to go on the search. Halfway out of town, Len found Barry skewered on an iron fence post, the spear-like tip protruding from his chest and covered in blood. When Len saw him - bent impossibly backward with arms and legs limp - his heart stopped.

He thought his boy was dead this time for sure.

Then along came Cisco and Caitlin, and boy, do they have a convenient sense of timing. They had nothing to do with Len finding Barry, but they sure did rush in and scoop him up as if he was theirs and theirs alone. They barely gave Len a thank you, barely looked him in the eyes.

When it comes to him, Len has discovered, even when he’s fighting on their side, they don’t consider him on their side.

Perhaps that’s the way it should stay.

Caitlin did take a second to check out Len’s arm and wrap it up, but that was a consolation prize. A token.

The literal least they could do.

But it was also a message. In their eyes, it made them square. Now Len’s job was over, and it would be best for everyone if he stepped back and left Barry alone.

Right. Like that was going to happen.

Caitlin and Cisco packed Barry up in their ‘Flash-mobile’ and left Len alone out in the middle of nowhere, probably all sorts of assured that he wouldn’t make it back to STAR Labs anytime soon.

And, as usual, they were wrong.

Not only was he fifteen minutes behind them the whole time thanks to his newest acquisition – a beat-up old Indian motorcycle he’d spied quietly rusting in an otherwise vacant driveway on his way out of town – but he’d managed to let himself into STAR Labs super slick and steal away into Barry’s room the second the Wonder Twins ducked out. Sure they’ll be watching Barry like a hawk so of course they’ll find him, but now that he’s in, he’d like to see them try and kick him out.

Len gives Barry a once over, head shaking with disgust and disappointment.

And guilt.

Barry looks okay. Aside from a few scratches, he’s the same as always … on the outside. From what Len could make out while Caitlin and Cisco were talking, the blast scrambled Barry’s brain like an omelet, hence his constant waking up and knocking out. From the times they were able to talk to him, Barry didn’t know his name, didn’t know where he was, who they were, or that he was The Flash. They hooked him up to a dozen or so machines monitoring his brain waves, his temporal lobes and whatnot, but when he finally comes to for longer than a minute, they have no idea what he’ll remember.

Or if the memories he’s lost will ever come back.

They also can’t tell with absolute certainty if Barry is still a meta. The blast doesn’t appear to have eliminated his power to heal, but it slowed it to a crawl. Hence why he’s down here while the net that is the Speed Force sews him back together, albeit at an infuriating rate.

And why it hasn’t worked on his brain? That’s another mystery altogether.

Len moves sections of Barry’s blankets aside to assess the damage for himself. Large hematomas mar Barry’s skin like a battle-scarred landscape. Len’s gaze falls on the blood-stained bandages covering the hole in Barry’s chest and sucks a breath in through his teeth. By rights, any man who sustained an injury like that should be dead. Since that blast was aimed at Len, that means he should be dead right now – dead and gone while a still young and vibrant Barry Allen mourns for all of fifteen minutes the twisted, dysfunctional non-relationship they have, one where Barry constantly reminds Len that there’s good in him as if that means something, and Len spends his nights seething because the good Len wants inside of him is Barry.

“Jesus Christ, you know, you gotta stop taking the blows that I’m supposed to take. When it’s my time, it’s my time. Nothing you can do is going to change that, Red, no matter how good you think I am.”

“Wh-why … do you keep calling me … Red?” a gravelly voice struggles with as Barry turns his head to look Len’s way.

Len shrugs, taking a seat in the chair beside Barry so he won’t have to move anymore. “It’s just a nickname I have for you. That’s all.”

Barry relaxes back into his pillow now that the object of his attention has conveniently moved into view. Eyelids narrowed, he stares at Len, soaking in the particulars of the man in front of him. “Who ... who are you?”

“Who do you think I am?”

“I … I don’t know, but … you seem so familiar.”

“I should. I’m your husband,” Len teases without thinking, sarcasm stepping in when the alternative means revealing too much at an inconvenient time. Why not? It breaks the tension. Barry is more than likely not going to remember this conversation. Besides, Len is dying to see the look on the kid’s face as he tries to comprehend that this tired, filthy, broken old man is his spouse.

And Barry doesn’t disappoint. His head jerks back a hair. His eyes widen. His jaw works around wordless questions.

In short, he looks thoroughly confused by life.

“You … you are?”

“Yup.”

“But … but the doctors that were in here … they didn’t tell me.”

Len pats Barry’s hand. “They don’t like me. I sometimes think they’d like to forget I exist.”

“Oh …” Barry’s eyes dart back and forth, scanning his brain for any nugget of a sliver of a memory of him being married to the man sitting in the chair next to him. Several long seconds tick by. Len watches Barry’s face with an intense curiosity and mild amusement, waiting for his inevitable surrender back into unconsciousness that will herald the end of this charade. Then Len will sit and guard over Barry for as long as he can before his obnoxious wardens return. But Barry doesn’t surrender to sleep. He smiles, an unexpected realization overwhelming him that adds color to his pale cheeks and light to his blank-slate eyes. “Oh … my God! We’re … we’re married?” Barry laughs before Len has a chance to answer. “Wh-what … what lottery did I win to get you?”

A vision of the fight they were in not two hours ago rolls through Len’s brain, how Barry got hit, then flew so hard he blinked out of sight like a cartoon character.

“Let’s just say I swept you off your feet.”

“I thought … I thought it was a dream …” Barry continues. “I didn’t think it could be real.”

Len chuckles, assuming Barry is thinking of that same take-off moment, until he keeps going.

And then Len’s heart stops a second, longer time.

“We met in a theater … didn’t we?”

“I guess you can say that.”

“We had a wedding on the beach … and our honeymoon … camping at the Grand Canyon …” A spark twinkles in Barry’s eyes that Len has never seen. It’s not the lightning that lives inside him, that erupts to mirror his emotions. It’s different – just as supernatural, but more inexplicable. It sends chills down Len’s spine, and that’s something that doesn’t happen too often.

“Ho---honeymoon?” Len’s legs go numb. He turns at the waist, looking for a place to sit until it dawns on him that he’s sitting already.

“Yeah.” Barry’s smile grows and takes a bashful twist. “You and me in a two-person tent on the South Rim, drinking champagne and watching the sun set …”

Voices echo in the hallway. Urgent voices. More than just Cisco and Caitlin. It sounds like Joe might be with them, along with a few other members of the CCPD. Len doesn’t hear what they say, but he has his suspicions that they’re talking about him.

“Shoot!” Len hisses, wishing the oncoming invasion could take a powder for about five minutes so that Barry can finish telling him about that honeymoon. From the shade of red Barry’s cheeks have become, it must have been good. But it would probably be a good idea if he retreats to his favorite air vent for the time being. “Look, kid, I’m going to have to …” He springs out of his seat but Barry grabs his hand with a speed that confirms that yes, he definitely still is a meta.

“Wait, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

“I need to bow out for a minute. But don’t worry. I won’t go too far.”

“Go? What … no! Don’t … don’t leave! Please?”

The voices become louder, accompanied by hurried footsteps, and Len curses under his breath. Before this little adventure began, weren’t they all allies? On a temporary basis, but playing on the same team? “Barry, I’m sorry, but I have to.”

“Why!?”

Len looks into Barry’s pleading eyes and sighs. Yup, leave it to him to take a joke too far, and now here he is - married to The Flash and sixty seconds away from being locked behind bars.

“Remember those doctors I said don’t like me?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, they’re coming back, and from the sounds of it, they’re bringing the police.”

“But, why does that matter?” Barry scans the room, searching frantically for help. “You’re ... you’re my husband!”

“They may not see it that way.”

“I’ll make them see! Just … wait here and we’ll get this straightened out. Please? Please stay?”

Len opens his mouth, but even though he has to, he can’t say no. He shakes his head, taking a step away, and Barry goes into full blown panic mode.

“They said I could have whatever I wanted! Have whoever I want in here with me! Whatever would make me comfortable! If you’re my husband, then I want you! We’ll tell them that I’m … I’m not staying here without you! I’ll … I’ll get up and leave!” Barry plants his hands on the mattress pad beneath him and tries to sit up. “I swear!”

“Shhh, easy now, kid. Don’t get carried away.” Len puts his hands on Barry’s shoulders and in an instance feels him relax, which makes Len want to punch himself in the throat. He did this – him and his frickin’ inability to not make a joke out of everything. Maybe he and Barry don’t always meet on the same side of the law, but he’d never want anything bad for Barry.

Which is why he keeps his distance on the day to day. If Leonard Snart is anything, he’s bad for Barry.

But for some reason, Barry seems to believe wholeheartedly that he’s married to Leonard Snart. And not just believes it, but has memories of it. But where those memories came from, Len doesn’t know. He didn’t say enough to plant any subliminal thoughts in Barry’s mind, nothing as detailed as a wedding on the beach, or a honeymoon. Where did that all come from? Could it be a side-effect of the memory wipe? Cisco specifically said ‘scrambled Barry’s brains like an omelet’. Those were his exact words. Barry’s mind manufacturing a wedding that never happened sounds like the kind of thing a scrambled brain might do.

Or is there a chance that those thoughts were there in Barry’s mind already? Fantasies hidden that the accident unlocked?

Does Barry, on some level, have feelings for Len that venture outside of the hero-villain dynamic they’ve so masterfully cultivated?

As much as Len would like to investigate that possibility, he can’t. They have a situation here that he doesn’t have an easy fix for.

But maybe he doesn’t want one.

Len knows that this can’t go anywhere but downhill, for him and for Barry. But he also knows he can’t back out on Barry now. Not with those eyes staring at him as if he’s the only thing keeping Barry tethered to planet earth.

No one’s ever looked at him that way, with that level of need. Not even his sister.

It’s also not lost on him that this is the longest Barry has managed to stay awake since he arrived at STAR Labs. That in itself is a reason for Len to stay.

What Len doesn’t know is how the hell he’s going to pull this off.

Make a plan. Execute the plan. Expect the plan to go off the rails. Throw away the plan.

Welp. He seems right about on par.

He squeezes Barry’s hand gently. To his own surprise, he leans forward and gives him a kiss on the forehead.

“All right, Red,” he whispers. “I’ll stay. We’ll … figure this out.”

[foursideharmony]

New AU, anyone?

So I was at the LA Ren Faire this past weekend and I have the sore muscles and light sunburn to prove it. I guess I'll take my revenge out on the universe by presenting a Ren Faire AU!

In this one, the boys work for a traveling Renaissance Faire. It cycles around their region over the course of a year, spending one to two months open in each location, plus a week or two to pack everything up, move it to the next stop, and set it all up again. Most of the people working the Faire, in retail booths and the like, are independent vendors with contracts, but the boys are part of the permanent staff.

Logan is one of the organizers, and is the main person in charge of logistics for each venue. He has made an exact science out of knowing exactly how to lay out the Faire in each venue, where to put all the vendors and other features, and how many temporary staff members and volunteers they need. As such, he mostly works behind the scenes, but he does have a persona so he can wander the grounds checking up on things without appearing out of place. He takes on the role of a local town magistrate, blending his actual purpose with his pretend one as seamlessly as possible.

Logan was attracted to the Ren Faire due to its educational potential. He is annoyed by its recent trends of anachronistic free-for-all and fantasy, but keeps these concerns to himself because he knows he is in a distinct minority. He contents himself with setting a good example—his on-stage persona is scrupulously well-researched and period-accurate, to the point where he sewed his costume by hand rather than use a sewing machine, which didn't exist in the 16th Century. He makes sure to speak in the correct dialect at all times while on the grounds, but he has never managed to master the actual accent, a source of frustration for him.

Patton works at the Faire's game booths, which include everything from bean bag tosses to archery butts to tortoise races! (That last one is his favorite, because TURTLES!) He cycles through them, a different one each day...except the axe throw, which makes him too nervous. He especially loves it when children try out the games, and will spend a few minutes coaching them on technique (where applicable) before letting them try for real. Best of all is when he gets to hand out prizes—they're just cheap toys, but kids are delighted to receive a plastic crown for successfully throwing the “roc egg” through the basketball hoop three times in a row. Some customers assume, due to his sunny demeanor, that he is naive, but he has a hawk's eye for attempted cheaters and calls them out every time.

In Patton's view, the purpose of the Ren Faire should be FUN above all. He doesn't care that much about period accuracy—his costume is simple, made from a commercial Halloween pattern and easily washable (an important feature since he works around a lot of dirt, straw, water, and tortoise feed). He aspires to get even dirtier—he would really like to transfer to the petting pens, but he needs a special certification first, and he would have to take a vacation from the Faire in order to fit in the required classes, and he just hasn't worked up the will to do that yet.

Roman is the star of the show: the “champion knight” who struts around the Faire in plate armor, swearing allegiance to little girls in princess costumes and challenging anyone who looks “villainous” to a contest of swords. It's not all pretend—he really is trained in swordplay and horsemanship and shows off both during the weekend “jousting tournament” events. On weekdays, or in certain venues that can't provide a jousting arena, he instead plays the part of a “sword teacher,” supervising children as they whack at each other with foam toy swords...or at him with wooden ones (the armor really works).

He is pretty much Logan's polar opposite in terms of what Ren Faire means to him—to Roman, it's all about the romance of olden times and the fantasy of a world where people still believe in sorcery. His own persona is period-accurate, right down to his heraldry, but he doesn't click his tongue at people who show up in costumes from the “wrong” era or dress as fantastical beings like fairies and wizards. He's known to bring some of that content in himself, telling the kids stories about slaying dragons and rescuing maidens from witches. (If Logan is nearby, he'll deliberately ramp up the fantasy, just to troll him a little.)

Virgil spends the least time on-stage of the four, since crowds tend to trigger his anxiety. He has an extremely important backstage job: helping to take care of the horses. It's tiring, mucky work, but it's better than being around a ton of strangers all day, and he's really good at it. He has a nearly perfect record when it comes to reading their moods and can always tell when one of them is too “spooky” to be in the public eye that day. His job obviously brings him into frequent contact with Roman, and while the two usually get along, they clash whenever Virgil has to veto Roman's horse selection. (It's no trivial thing—Roman got thrown once when he insisted upon taking a horse out despite Virgil's insistence that it was nervous. He wasn't badly hurt, but they had to cancel the joust and people demanded refunds.)

On weekdays, since they don't work the horses, Virgil isn't usually needed to care for them. Sometimes he pitches in at the petting pens—he was the one who told Patton about the animal handling certification he would need to be transferred there—and sometimes, when he feels up to it, he wanders the grounds in a cloaked costume that Faire regulars have nicknamed “the Black Rogue.” There is mad speculation about what this rarely-seen character signifies, but most people agree that he is up to no good. Some fans have started asking Roman what he plans to do about the “villain,” and sooner or later they'll have to sit down and decide where they want to take the kayfabe.

That's all I have for now. I can add more if there's any interest, but I'm also open to outside ideas!

[rosykims]

5 + 10 for emeraude, 14 + 18 for effie, 19 + 24 for arylene and 30 through 45 for imogen bc i love her so much ? 😏😏😏

fdjkfjkfdk thank u SO much maia i absolutely Treasure You !

EMERAUDE HAWKE - DA2

What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night?

emeraudes fashion sense is probably my favourite out of all my ocs, so uh if u havent looked at her pinterest board yet u should do that bc its Very cute hehehe

anyway for the most part she sticks to dark, practical clothing whenever she's out and about in kirkwall or doing merc work, etc. she picks clothes that convey strength and power, but she likes having a little bit of colour somewhere on the piece, just to keep things interesting. she's not much of an embroider, but was a good way to keep herself distracted during hard times, so she tends to add little patterns here and there whenever she gets the chance!

as for special occasions, for her this would actually just be. a quiet night at home or a relaxed gathering with her friends. bc its so rare for her to have that lmao. anyway for events like that she usually wears light colours and soft fabrics, simple but always decorated with flowers or colourful patterns.

What does your OC keep in a special drawer?

she has a collection of gifts ! that kids from lowtown would give her over the years she spent in kirkwall. she's a very community based person and wants to do right for her city, and shes very nurturing (in an ironical, Cool Big Sister way) so she likes making sure all the kids are safe and being looked after. she gets a lot of trinkets and strange gifts from some of the kids as a result, but she does treasure them (even if she laughs about it with her friends) and keeps them all !

EFFIE RYDER - MEA

Who is the mother and/or father figure in your OC’s life?

effie's maternal rolemodel has always been her late mother, ellen. nobody could really fill that role in her eyes, since they had such a close, positive relationship before she passed. her relationship with her dad was a lot more strained and it really impacted a lot of her relationships later on in life too ! she tends to.... see an older man who is Vaguely Nice to her, and then think “ oh, youre my dad now?” which isnt fair to anybody obviously but yeah she,,,, has a lot of unresolved issues regarding alec and tends to unintentionally project so. We stan !

How many times did your OC move as a child? Which area was his/her favorite?

oh constantly lol. With her dad being an n7 and her mother working so hard on her research, they tended to move around wherever her parents work required. she actually enjoyed it this way. she was never good at making long term friends, but she lived meeting new people, and obviously with the move she got to experience a lot of different cultures which really put the idea of adventuring and travelling in her head at a young age.

ARYLENE TORR - TES IV

What does your OC think of children- either in general or about having them?

she likes them ! she tends to keep her distance with most communities and groups of people in particular, but she does like enjoys having the odd conversation with the odd street urchin here and there, either sharing with them some strange, ridiculous life advice or – if shes feeling particularly chaotic – telling them the scariest stories she can think of. as for having them, arylene isnt AGAINST the idea, but she has far too much for the foreseeable future for that to ever be a good idea

Who are the people your OC dislikes/hates?

outwardly, arylene is an almost unbearably easy going person, so you would assume she doesnt hate anyone lol. but she does DEEEPLY dislike cults and groups of ignorant people who are arrogant enough to start messing with the balance of life, or making deals with gods, etc. she believes that people like that can do an unbelievable amount of damage, so she invests a lot of time and effort it sabotaging any group or plot she happens to find !

 IMOGEN FOSTER - RDR2

Did your OC participate in extracurricular activities, and if so, what were they?

hmm idk if this even EXISTED in 19th century london lol, but she would have done some very tame version of girl scouts as a child! She barely remembers any of it, but she liked the classes on what plants did what, which were safe to eat, and the likes. its something that helps her a lot when on the run with the gang, and something shes always had a personal interest in, as a nurse !

other than that, she’s done a lot of independent study on history, classical literature, and she speaks fluent italian we stan !

What is your OC’s opinion of school? What kind of student was s/he?

imogen comes from a very wealthy aristocratic family, so she was very fortunate that her privilege afforded her the education she got at the time. she is VERY grateful to have attended the schools she did, and she made sure to make the most of it, paying attention in class and studying harder than most of her classmates. she's a smart girl with a very active mind, so knowledge is something she can't get enough of. she was actually petitioning the board of education to allow her to attend university before she left for america – already their had been women accepted into universities at that time, but obviously it was still a very scandalous thing lol, especially since imogen wanted to study medicine.

What subjects did your OC excel at?

imogen is a HUGE overachiever and did pretty well at basically everything from science, mathematics, language studies and later on, in her studies as a nurse. i can tell you what shes bad at though lmao

anything physical really dkdkdks she is TERRIBLE at horse-riding since she usually just went by carriage everywhere in the city. art and poetry and writing in general she was never great at, because she's a pretty logical person and was told she never put enough emotion in her work lol !!! sports...obviously was very limited anyway as growing up in like? the early 1870s lol. and as for the traditionally feminine lessons in like ?? sewing and cooking and stuff well ! she was very average at them which made her  feel worse than if she was actually bad bc she's so used to excelling and making a name for herself oof

What subjects interested your OC?

Imogen loves greek literature and mythology !! the iliad is her favourite book and she keeps her heavily annotated, dog eared copy – a gift from her late father – on her person almost constantly. needless to say its why dutch admires her as much as he does lol.

obviously, as a nurse-trying-to-be-a-doctor, she has a great love for medicine in all its forms. she's always been fascinated in natural remedies, and even moreso when she's running with the van der linde gang and is really relying on the land to survive.

What is your OC’s dream job and/or current profession?

hmm okay so. Technically she's a nurse – she worked in her father's hospital for almost 10 years prior to his death, and she was sort of his unofficial understudy, as in she knows a LOT more than her job description requires lol. but after her father past away, another, less progressive man took his place as chief of surgery and made a lot of changes to the way the hospital operated, and imogen was let go. she and her mother were fighting against it, however, under the ground of unfair dismissal, but obviously given the time period it didnt get them very far. so ! i mean technically she's unemployed rn. but she still has dreams of being a doctor, or at least continuing her career in medicine.

How is your OC working towards their dream job and/or achieved their current profession?

Oh VERY direct action up until she got disheartened and chose to take her sabbatical. she had been working in her role for nearly a decade, and was very obviously one of the most experienced nurses there. even younger doctors would sometimes ask her for her medical opinion dksksks anyway what i am saying is Brain Very Good. she had been fighting to gain admission into a university – any, she wasnt picky – to study medicine officially, but it didnt get very far and she put it on hold after her father got sick. after he died and she was laid off, she fought even harder against the city to reinstate her title, and continues to fight after she returns from america a year or so later.

What are your OC’s thoughts/opinions of his/her current profession?

helping people is her entire life, and she wouldn't know what to do without it. she loves being a nurse enough to fight to be a doctor, but also in BEING a nurse, she is hyperaware of all the things current medical standards seem to get wrong, and she has a lot of ideas about how else to go about things. her father, a shockingly progressive and worldly man for the time period, shared her sentiment, but he wasn't able to make the changes he wanted to before he passed, so imogen hopes she can be the change herself, and make her father proud

What is your OC’s biggest dream?

being a licenced doctor, babey ! preferably at her father's hospital, but at the point she will take what she can get.

How does your OC react to and handle stress?

imogen  handles stress very well , which is partially why she makes such a good medic, and also how she managed to survive the first week of being with the van der linde gang lmao. she is very good at shutting out EVERY distraction when things get dicey, and her brain tends to move at a million miles an hour. all traces of english etiquette and politeness go out the window, though, so you'll usually catch her barking orders at people, and yelling at anyone who prevents her from doing the work she needs to do. it.....is a big wake up call for people like dutch and micah, and gets her into a LOT of trouble on multiple occasions.

How does your OC handle anger?

ooo......not great. she’s grown up with parents who maybe encouraged her to speak her mind a bit....TOO much given the historical circumstances lol. she really doesn’t stand for ignorance or prejudices in any capacity, and if she has a problem with someone and it gets in the way of her trying to do her work or help others - she will ABSOLUTELY be having words. she also overestimates her own strength quite a lot. she’s tried to throw hands with micah MANY times, often forgetting she’s this tiny 70kg englishwoman and he’s .... Him sdjkdcjkf. she has a big mouth too so she often says snide remarks without even meaning too, which tends to get her in trouble as well. on the bright side, it also helps her fit in with the gang quite well, because for the most part they all appreciate how wild she is lmao

How does your OC handle grief?

hmm i guess it depends on what you would class as “well”? she doesnt cry very often - being stoic and handling your emotions is important when your a nurse - but she does tend to shove her feelings down far longer than she should, and tries to pretend they don’t exist by simply focusing on other things. she also blames herself when a lot of things go wrong, because she’s a perfectionist and wants to FIX everything, so when she finds something - or someone - she can’t save, it feels like a personal failure. like she let them down :(

What is your OC’s greatest fear?

probably being trapped in an unhappy, unfulfilling marriage with someone who undervalues her. she’s not much of a homebody and doesn’t have too much of an interest in being married, but the idea of feeling FORCED to marry someone in order to have a decent quality of life makes her blood run cold oof

What makes your OC happy?

helping people ! meeting new folks ! learning about other cultures and ways of life! learning about NEW THINGS in general ! proving people wrong ! insulting micah !

as tough and high-and-mighty as she sometimes seems, she’s a pretty easy person to please, honestly. treat her with respect, give her space to do the things she wants to do, and don’t get in the way of her opportunities to learn new things, and she’s mostly very happy !

What kind of sense of humor does your OC have?

she has a fairly macabre and sardonic sense of humour, something she picked up from her mother. she says a lot of Shocking things for the time period, and she’s not shy of dirty jokes either. the first time sean heard her, a soft, well spoken english Lady, make some filthy, crude joke, he nearly had a stroke right there on the spot kjkjkfdjkf

What are some things that greatly upset your OC?

senseless violence, suffering or cruelty. she really hated the gang at first and hoped to escape the first chance she got, because all she could see was the crime and disregard for human life she assumed they all held. fortunately, as she got to know them, she realized this wasn’t exactly the case, but she still has a lot of anger in her heart for a few key members of the gang who seem to enjoy bloodshed more than anything. she also hates any form of social prejudice, and people who gatekeep knowledge and opportunities from others.

What are some things that annoy your OC?

i guess all of the above, but she also dislikes misplaced arrogance, and people who talk down to others. she tolerates dutch, but often gets frustrated with the way he speaks, using as many big words as he can to manipulate and confuse others. she believes that really intelligence doesn’t require obscure jargon and big, fancy words - she likes keeping things simple, so everybody can follow along.

[justpeachyshua]

vocal unit theater au - seokmin

seokmin as the head of costumes

“as children, we love the idea of playing dress up - creating ideal, imaginary worlds and acting them out in the hopes of making them real. as we get older, we like to pretend that we’re over it, we’ve matured. but there’s no age limit for make believe and anyone, no matter how old, can entertain their wildest ideas“

part 2 of the vocal unit theater au

read below the cut!

(unrelated, but i wrote the previous part in present tense and i uhhhh hated it! so we’re gonna do past tense from now on. let’s pretend it’s been this way the whole time lmaoooo)

since practically the dawn of time, you and seokmin have been totally inseparable 

you guys were the definition of the classic childhood best friends

tons of sleepovers

karaoke sessions filled with lots of screaming

cooking/baking for each other

the whole shebang, ya know

but the highlight of your childhood was always playing dress up with seokmin

your parents always encouraged you to explore your creativity and that included making your own little costumes

from astronauts to wizards to pirates, you guys did it all!

it started with just creating stories in your backyards

eventually you guys started going to anime conventions in middle school 

your cosplay was shabby at best, but it inspired you guys to continue learning to make props, sew clothes, and even do fx makeup

(never forget your terrible ben nye and liquid latex days)

at that point, the peak of your hopeless romantic days, you found yourself developing a crush on seokmin and BOY were you crushing HARD

you didn’t want to try to lose your best friend so you decided to keep it a secret for a while

that didn’t stop you from staying super close to him tho

(to the point where you were wondering whether seokmin didn’t have a girlfriend of his own volition or bc everyone just assumed you guys were already dating)

when you guys entered high school you immediately decided that you’d join the drama club and get involved in school productions

honestly the perfect decision for you guys as costume and makeup nerds

and so by junior year you and seokmin had been given the titles of head of costumes and head of makeup respectively 

this year you guys were putting on peter pan and you guys were ecstatic! 

although a bunch of pirate outfits and fairy dresses weren’t the most interesting costumes you guys have pieced together, you were still excited to be working on such a nostalgic project with seokmin

although you guys were undeniably close, you guys didn’t exactly hang out as much as you did when you were kids

but this gave you the opportunity to be around him practically 24/7

and so you guys set to work

you each had thick sketchbooks with various designs for costumes scribbled out and annotated with whether you would have to make or buy the pieces and where you could get materials

you guys were masters at your craft by now

joanns and michaels were your guys’ domain really

extreme couponing could NEVER

when at school you guys were always busy taking the cast’s measurements and whatnot

but you always made sure you could crack jokes at each other in between each person

when you went shopping for face paint and makeup you would often end up practicing on seokmin, a willing volunteer

a few cast members required wigs, so styling those always resulted in one of you two getting a hairspray mo-hawk or some other crazy hairstyle in the process

you guys had a routine that was organized and fun and comfortable

one night, while you were outlining the beginning stages of the fairy makeup on seokmin, you found yourself very pleased with just how close you got to be to him 

as you painted glitter on his soft cheeks, your eyes traveled down to his lips and lingered there, wishing your gaze could fill the longing you had for the feel of his mouth on yours

(you were lucky seokmin was so oblivious, or else you could have been severely embarrassed then) 

after all of this hard work with seokmin, it really truly sucked when you got sick the week of the show, right in the middle of final costume preparations

with such a large cast of main and background characters as well as dancers, the job was pretty damn stressful

and without you it was SUPER STRESSFUL

unfortunately you were advised to stay home until the following week so there wasn’t anything you could do about it :(((((

on top of the overwhelming guilt you felt about not being able to help with the show

you were super bummed about being away from seokmin for practically a whole week straight

it was really depressing so you tried to occupy your time by watching hella movies. comedies to disney to rom-coms, all types of films

as the show went on mere miles away from you, you were laying in bed practically wasting away and frying your brain

it was late at night and u were in the middle of spacing out as a film played in the background, when your phone began to buzz with a call

“seokmin? what are you doing? the show’s over right, shouldn’t you be helping clean up?” 

“just... look outside” 

you shuffled out of bed, blanket still heavy on your shoulders, and peered out your bedroom window down at the sidewalk in front of your house

standing under a streetlamp in the most ridiculous pirate costume was seokmin

“can i come in?” 

you unlocked the door for him and brought him back up to your room 

“i’m still confused, what are you doing here?” 

“i felt bad that you couldn’t be at the show to see all our work come to life,  so i thought i’d bring the show to you”

“seokmin, you didn’t have to do this, really. i wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with director choi. plus, i’m fine on my own here”

“you definitely aren’t. i mean you’re watching a documentary on clownfish... here, let me make you something warm to eat. have you had medicine yet? i’ll bring some up for you, too” 

despite your protests, you were still grateful for seokmin’s efforts

after bringing you soup and cold medicine, he switched the pirate costume out for some sweats and joined you on your bed to watch some better movies 

he picked out an old childhood favorite and you spent about ten minutes just laughing about the past before you even started the movie

it was cozy the way you two were practically cuddled up next to each other and reminiscing on all the things that brought you two together

after all of these weeks of helping each other out,

the intense work that went into serving the show,

and the crazy antics you got up to while working,

it was nice to be taken care of like this, feeling snug and secure

you could feel yourself getting more and more tired as the movie went on

as much as you wanted to stay in the moment, you couldn’t help but rest your eyes at some point

and then, halfway through the movie, you had fallen asleep and let your head fall onto seokmin’s shoulder 

you felt something soft press against the top of your head 

“love you” 

and in that moment, before you slipped into a deep sleep, you felt like your childhood dreams were coming to life 

for a brief moment it felt like a fairy tale

like a perfect game of make believe

[angryhausfrau-writes]

Something Old and Something New - Chapter 1: Prologue

Marjory is bored out of her fucking mind.

Which is an unseemly sentiment, she knows – particularly when she's meant to be engaged in planning her own wedding. A wedding which she is actually looking forward to, despite her current aggravation. But it's true nonetheless.

Because honestly, there's only so many hours one can spend selecting table linens. At some point, the minute differences between ecru linen napkins and cream linen napkins just don't fucking matter anymore. And that point has come and gone. But Mother and Charles's grandmother are still arguing about it.

At least she can bitch about it to Honoria later. Preferably over a glass of wine. Or a raging bonfire made of the reams and reams of notes Marjory's required to take on every minute, insignificant detail. Details which Honoria, as a lowly bridesmaid, is not made to sit through – lucky girl.

Family politics being what they are, Honoria would be part of the wedding party regardless of how either of them felt about it. But fortunately, they've become quite close friends since that first slightly awkward meeting. And Honoria has remained a staunch ally throughout the many battles of wills that have occurred over the course of planning the wedding of the decade. Because of course the union between the Emerson Winchesters and the Oakes will be the wedding of the decade. And it's Marjory's job to get them there, even if she must wear a wig to the ceremony after pulling all her hair out in frustration over her various relatives' and soon-to-be relatives' conflicting tastes in flower arrangements.

Charles doesn't know how lucky he is getting to stick his hands in people's chest cavities all day. Particularly as the people are unconscious and therefore cannot express opinions on wedding dress style or candlestick height. But they all make sacrifices for the good of the family. And this is her particular cross to bear.

Still, there must me some way to ensure that the actual wedding is more than just a political showpiece.

--

“Hey, we got invited to the Winchester wedding.”

Trapper looks up from the bills he's paying. “Singly or collectively?”

“Well, it's addressed to both of us. But I imagine they assume we'll each bring someone else as a plus one.”

The question is, who to bring? Sure Hawkeye and Trapper each have a few girls they're friendly with down at the bar. But taking someone to a wedding seems like a pretty big step relationshipwise, and Hawkeye doesn't want to lead any of them on.

“Oh wait, Trapper, there's a note – Dear Hawkeye and Trapper... hope you can come, blah blah, also wanted to let you know we've invited Major Margaret Houlihan so you may wish to get in touch with her about attending before you RSVP blah blah Love, Marjory. So that's that problem solved – one of us takes Margaret and the other takes Kat. All nice and neat and heterosexual.”

“Beats going stag - this way we have someone to dance with. And Kat gets to go. That Marjory's one hell of a smart cookie.”

“And tactful,” Hawkeye adds. “What she's doing with Charles “Oblivious” Winchester, I'll never understand.”

They grin conspiratorially – Charles has interrupted date night several times now and he still hasn't bought a clue.

“Well, there's no accounting for taste. But I'm glad she's on our side.” And Trapper goes back to balancing the check book.

“Only problem now is, what're we gonna do for a wedding present?” Trapper asks after he finishes and looks at the final balance. “It ain't like we can afford something they'd want. Or that they'd want to admit to owning.”

It's true. Even with two doctor's salaries, they don't make anything close to enough to buy a present for the man who has gold-plated toilet paper holders in his bathroom. And they don't want to get something cheap that they'll just throw away – because then they may as well just not buy a present.

“Well,” Hawkeye says consideringly, “if money's an object, we should probably try and pull at the old heart strings. Get them something sentimental that they'll want to cherish forever for all the good memories it evokes or whatever.”

Trapper nods. “That makes good sense, Hawkeye. Who knew you had it in you.”

“Oh fuck off. If you're going to insult me like this, then you can think up the gift idea.”

Trapper always was the idea man of their little duo anyway. Better to leave him to it.

Trapper ponders for a bit. Then says, “What about making them a quilt – and we each do a square. Cuz they've already invited us and Margaret, who knows how many other former 4077 inmates made the guest list. Probably at least BJ and Sidney. And they're all gonna be in the same boat, presentwise.”

“I like it. Killing multiple birds with one gift. And we all know how to sew at least a little – so that shouldn't be outside of anyone's ability.” Hawkeye pauses “Only question now is, who else is on the guest list?”

“Honoria's helping with the planning, ain't she? She might be able to find out.”

“Aha!” Hawkeye exclaims triumphantly. He loves it when a plan comes together. “Honoria and I are meeting up this afternoon – since someone-” he looks pointedly at Trapper “-doesn't appreciate musical theater. I'll squeeze her for information then. You call Margaret and Kat and see which of them is willing to put up with you for an entire evening.”

Trapper flips him off playfully. “You're just jealous Margaret had the hots for me and not you.”

“As if!” Hawkeye exclaims, affronted. “I'm irresistible!”

“Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night.” And Trapper heads toward the phone. “Have fun at your interrogation, honey. I'll feel out Margaret to see if she thinks the quilt thing's a good idea or not.”

--

Margaret had liked the quilt idea – and she and Kat agreed to a double date with him and Trapper. So that's that problem solved. And fortunately, Honoria's willing to snitch for a good cause so Hawkeye gets the guest list pretty quickly. Now it's just down to coordinating everyone else.

Trapper takes one of the pages of the list Honoria'd slipped surreptitiously into Hawkeye's coat at their last little get together. “Looks like Steve and Letta and Sidney all got invited. They're close enough we can just call them up and ask if they wanna go in on the gift, so that's convenient.”

Hawkeye looks at his own page. “More good news, Trapper. Max is on the guest list, too.”

“Oh, thank God - someone who knows what she's doing. Think we can get her to take charge of this whole deal?”

Cuz it turns out that making a quilt involves significantly more work than Trapper had anticipated. And as Max is a professional seamstress, she probably has things like a sewing machine, or batting, or even just a big old piece of cloth to use for the back part.

“C'mon, Trap, let's write her now and ask. And we should write everyone else, to let them in on the plan.”

“I'll write Radar and the Padre. You better be the one to write BJ, otherwise he'll never agree to anything,” Trapper says, a little bitter.

It ain't his fault BJ still hasn't warmed up to him. And it ain't like they've gotta be best friends or nothing, but it'd be nice to all be able to be in the same room together without it feeling like sides are being drawn. With Hawkeye's favor some kinda token to be fought over.

“Right,” Hawkeye says tightly. Hawk's made it clear he ain't much more happy about the situation than Trapper is. But also that BJ's his friend and he ain't about to give that up. “I'll write Colonel Potter, and Donna Parker too since you never met them. Boy, Marjory sure has a sense of humor inviting Charles's former “wife” to his wedding.”

“I'm surprised Father Mulcahy made the cut – given how much Winchester hates the Irish, Catholics, and Irish Catholics.”

Though in fairness, Winchester has mellowed somewhat on that front since Trapper's known him. And the Padre's a pretty unobjectionable guy. But it kinda seems like Marjory – who'd been the one to draw up the list, according to Honoria – had just listened to Winchester's yearly drunken diatribe against all the MASH personnel and invited everyone he'd only pretended to hate outta obligation. Still, Trapper don't mind seeing some old faces – and meeting some new ones – at this shindig, so no skin off his teeth.

Even if it does mean more people to rope into their scheme.

--

Max gets a letter from Trapper – and it's not unexpected, exactly. They've been writing back and forth since she got back stateside.

First a Christmas card from both Trapper and Hawkeye – who are shacked up together now, surprise surprise.

Then Max wrote Trapper asking about Seong – making sure the kid didn't have anything wrong with him since he still wasn't talking for months and months of being home in Toledo and settled and safe.

And maybe Max knew Hawkeye better at that point. Been closer friends with him than Trapper cuz of going through all the real bad shit at the end of the war together. After all, they had almost two years of keeping each other the right kinda crazy – up till no one could do that for Hawkeye cuz what he'd seen was just too fucked up. And that kinda thing tends to bring folks together.

But Hawkeye wasn't the guy to go to with anything kid related on account of said fucked up shit. And sure, Max could've written to BJ – he's got kids too, and a toddler not kids in grade school already. But BJ'd been normal - the most normal outta all them 4077 folks. And he'd gone back home to his family, back to living his abnormally normal life, like some shining golden monument to God Bless America and apple pie. And she didn't wanna interrupt that.

So she'd written Trapper. Who kept insisting that he wasn't a pediatrician or a psychiatrist – and he'd tried to recommend both, but Trapper knows Max, knows Korea, knows what the kid's been through better than any so-called expert and she felt a lot more comfortable going to him than anyone she didn't know.

Plus, his parenting advice had been sound – the kid's gone from starvation skinny to plump and healthy and he's now babbling away at a mile a minute in three different languages.

And since Trapper's a family man, through and through – just absolutely loves kids, his own and other people's – that asking for advice had turned into writing more generally about family life, swapped kid photos, that kind of thing. Which is nice too, cuz Max don't have a ton of friends in Toledo who got kids she can ask for advice from. And sometimes asking family nets a whole bunch of conflicting advice that ignoring any part of would cause grave insult – so it's just easier asking someone who's hundreds of miles away and not related to her.

So they get to be friends – closer friends than they ever were in Korea. And so, when Max was figuring some stuff out about herself, they'd written about that too. Carefully, of course, and with enough misdirection and double talk to get past any of the army sensors from back in the day - Max still paranoid about other people reading her mail, and both of them knowing what could happen if the wrong eyes got the wrong impression. But they'd written. Cuz again, there ain't that many people out there who'd understand her – all the parts of her – from growing up a poor immigrant kid in the kinda neighborhood where being weak got you dead, to Korea, to being queer.

Hawkeye's really the only other one who maybe comes close. And Max ain't kidding herself that he don't know – that Trapper hadn't mentioned anything – since all Hawkeye's own letters refer to her right. But there's parts of Max's growing up that Hawkeye don't understand as well, so she'd gone to Trapper about it.

And maybe it ain't quite the same thing, the way the two of them are – though Max is married to a woman, so they're more alike that way than she'd though. And what a woman. Soon Li is a diamond – strong and bright and with an edge to her that was forged in war. But she's kind and sweat and gentle, too, when she's with Max and Seong and all the rest of her family.

And when Max realized that she felt most herself as herself – sharp and cunning and with teeth bared for a fight, but also pretty and fashionable and a woman – Soon Li'd just looked at Max like she was an idiot for thinking she'd have to remake herself into something smaller and softer and less just cuz she's a woman. Loved and understood Max for all the parts of her – even the parts that made her a little rough around the edges. Helped Max realize that she could be all the parts of her – even if everyone else said you had to choose.

Trapper'd understood that too, in his own way. Cuz, see, they'd slept together a couple times back in Korea. Just a fun little fling that didn't really mean anything to either of them. But Trapper'd looked at Max like she was beautiful. Treated her like she was pretty and feminine when she'd responded to that – without really knowing why at the time. And then he'd ribbed her good-naturedly at the next night's poker game, like she was still the same person she'd always been – tough and crass and crafty. Like those two things didn't have to cancel each other out.

So Max had trusted Trapper with the truth of herself as she learned just what the fuck that actually was. And they'd grown close on account of it.

So it's not a surprise that Max gets a letter from Trapper – but the subject of it kinda is.

Dear Max, A little birdy told me that you got invited to the Winchester wedding. Well, so did me and Hawkeye and a bunch of other MASH vets. There's a whole list of 'em with addresses included in this letter if you end up agreeing to the proposition I got – and not like that! You're a married woman now. Not that that stopped either of you before, you rogues. (Just kidding, Soon Li. Promise.)

Apparently the letter is from Hawkeye as well.

The proposition is this. See, I figure you and me and all the rest of us wedding guests ain't exactly in a position to buy Winchester anything he wants or needs cuz he's a rich bastard and we're all just culturally defficient plebeians (his words.) So Hawkeye figures that we oughtta get him something sentimental. Something that makes him feel guilty for even considering throwing out. Just really hit him where it hurts emotionally. And I had the idea of making up a quilt. Each of us doing a square of it and then sewing it all together. And Margaret and Steve and Sidney and Letta all think it's a pretty good idea – we're polling the others on it, but it's via letter so we ain't got answers back yet. But it seems like the plan's a go. And I ain't exactly a professional seamstress – not like you are. (I'm buttering you up a little, at Hawkeye's request. Is it working? You're also nice and kind and helpful and did I mention nice? Ugh, this is making me sick. You're a conniving bastard and we both know it – please help regardless.) I maintain it's a solid plan. You just weren't flattering enough, Trap. You've got to really lay it on with a shovel. What happened to the guy who could get nurses to go out with him just with a look? Maybe that's the problem – no eye contact in a letter. Anyway, I got no idea how to put everything together once all the pieces are done and make it look nice. So I was wondering if you maybe wanted to take charge of this little project. Lemme know either way – Hawkeye thinks he can sweet talk Mrs. Potter into doing it if you ain't got time. There's no “think” about it - I absolutely can. I'm a master of convincing people to do stupid things they really shouldn't. And Mrs. Potter apparently has a soft spot for incorrigible pranksters - which explains her decades of marriage to Sherm, I guess. But between those two facts, it's a sure bet. So stop maligning me, Trapper! So no pressure, Max. I know you're busy with running a business and having a family and all. Speaking of, I hope Soon Li and Seong are well – from your last letter, it sounds like the kid's gonna take after you in the smooth-talking department. And in three languages, yet. You must be real proud. Hope to hear from you soon. Your friends, Trapper John And Hawkeye

Max laughs as she reads the letter. The back and forth almost like having a real conversation. She's missed that – missed her friends. So she writes back right away.

Dear Trapper and Hawkeye (who is definitely not reading this over his shoulder), Of course I'll help, what kinda friend do you take me for? Don't answer that. Anyhow, I think the quilt's a real good idea. A little piece of all us 4077 folks together in one place. That's real sappy. Even Dr. Winchester ain't gonna be able to pretend to turn his nose up at it. And you were right to come to me about it – seeing as you don't know a back stitch from a blanket stitch. I'll write all the folks on your list letting 'em know I'm taking over the project and to send their squares to me. And the dozens and dozens of questions I'm sure I'll get. So thanks a lot for that, guys. It's late and I don't got much more to say other than Soon Li and Seong are doing good – I'll send a more detailed report in another letter, don't worry. I've been saving up some real cute pictures of the kid for your refrigerator. So keep an eye out for another letter soon. And I guess I'll be seeing you in person pretty soon too. It'll be nice to catch up face-to-face, you know? Till then, I hope you're both well. Your friend, Max

To be perfectly honest, Max has never made a quilt before either – which in hindsight is pretty stupid, given how cold Korea got in winter. But she does know how to do more than mend holes and darn socks. And she has made a quilted housecoat before and it ain't that different. So.

“Fear not, friends! Maxine Q. Klinger is on the case.” Cuz despite her status as a conniving bastard, Max ain't one to leave friends in a lurch. And it does solve the problem of what to get for Charles “Snobbery is my Middle Name” Winchester.

Soon Li laughs at her, but she'd gotten Max's sketch book as soon as she'd finished reading the letter herself. And all she says is, “Don't stay up too late plotting, jagiya.”

Allah, but Max loves her.

By the time Max comes to bed, she's got a rough sketch of a couple ideas and a whole bunch of scrawled notes. And of course, the final design'll depend on who all's participating in this little venture. But it's a start.

[before-everything-changed]

You Change With Age

hey guys I actually wrote this months ago but just now found it so there are probably hella mistakes but i hope you enjoy??

Marienette had been given compliments on her hair all of her life. People stopping to tell her how beautifully the unusual hue of her hair complimented her eyes, or to ask how just how she had so much volume. She particularly did not do anything out of the ordinary, just a plain and simple washing of the hair when she took a shower, but that did not stop anyone from asking how she got her hair the way she did. Up until she was thirteen, she always kept her hair down. Sure, it was sometimes a pain whenever her hair fell in her face while she was drawing, but other than that there had been no reason to tie her hair back. She was not involved in any sports and she did not want Chloe saying that she stole her hairstyle from her, because her hair was always up in a ponytail. Chloe had always been a pain to Marienette, but she tried not to aggravate the girl when she could. That would always involve too much unnecessary drama. Not tying her hair back meant she could use it to hide her face when she did not want people looking at her. It provided as a shield from the world, yet whether it was from her looking at the world or the world looking at her she did not know. It just kept her safe. It was something she could rely on. This was probably part of the reason she would become awkward in some situations, because she hid behind a vale of hair. But when she turned thirteen, her hair could not protect her anymore. That day she had been out walking around Paris, taking in it's beauty. It was a warm spring day, a gentle breeze weaving through the grass. That day looked like the kind of day you would read about in books, or watch in movies. Flowers starting to blossom after the cold winter, people opening up their windows to let the fresh air in, bicyclists seen on every street. The birds were chirping as Marienette walked past places that, not so far in the future, she would become a different person, a person who acted more fearless than what she felt. She walked throughout the town, feeling totally at peace. She was now old enough to wander through the city by herself, and she loved it. It was different and exciting. The possibilities of something amazing happening were endless. She could go out and find new inspirations for her designs that she had started working on a few months back. Thoughts swam through her head of types of fabrics and sewing needles when something on the ground caught her eye. She knelt down and picked up two circular earrings and examined them. While they did not appear to be new, they did seem to be worth something. Marienette closed her fist around them and stood up, glancing around to see if anyone was searching for anything. No such luck. She was going to have to ask people if they were missing a pair of earrings. Throughout the rest of the day, she went around to people asking if they had lost a pair of earrings or knew of anyone who did. Normally they said no. The few people who did say that yes, they were missing earrings, glanced at her warily when she opened up her palm to show them the earrings she had found. They all walked away after that, and Marienette could not figure out why. At some point, when the sun was starting to set, Marienette sat down on a bench and sighed. She felt bad for whoever was missing their earrings, but she did not know where to return them to. It seemed pretty hopeless that they would be getting their earrings back tonight. There was no one even on the street anymore. She opened up her hand and looked at the earrings again when she heard a voice from over her shoulder. "You're not going to find an owner to those." The voice was high and child like, but there was something about it that made it seem like it had some wisdom. Marienette turned around to see who was talking to her, expecting to see a kid, and almost fainted. Before her was a floating, presumably talking, red and black blob. The blob laughed. "Those earrings are yours now, but they come with a price. "My name is Tikki, and I am what you would call, a kwami. What this means is that I help whoever is the holder of the miraculous," Tikki gestured to the earrings. "become able to fight people infected by the akuma, a butterfly currently being controlled by a person called Hawk Moth. These people are 'akumatized,' being led by feelings that can lead to anger. Only the welders of the miraculous have the ability to stop them, purify the akuma, and possibly take down Hawk Moth. "I chose you to be the user of my miraculous. There's more to you than meets the eye. So would you please accept my offer and help save Paris?" Marienette looked at the blob called Tikki. There had been news reports on weird super villains randomly appearing around Paris looking for 'miraculous,' which, until today meant nothing to her. She did not know what a miraculous was. But now she could see some of the importance of it. If the Moth Hawk guy got ahold of something that seems pretty powerful considering it's the only thing stopping someone who is controlling people and making super villains, it could end disastrously. "I accept." Marienette thought that, though she may not be the best person for this job, she could not be the worst. "So what's next?" "You should put on the earrings so I can show you how to transform so you know how to when the time arises." Marienette put the earrings in and she felt different, yet the same at the same time. She had to admit that this was all getting pretty weird. Tikki was talking, but Marienette, as if on instinct, said "Tikki, spots on!" Tikki gave her a slightly shocked look and then disappeared. Though she wondered where she went, she had little time to think about that as her clothes were changing on their own. Her own clothing was transforming into one large spandex suit. It was completely red with black polka dots on it. She could feel an odd weight on her face that had not been there before and assumed that there was a mask on her face. She walked out onto the street. The sun had almost completely set by this time. She looked down at herself and a yo-yo wrapped around her waist and picked it up. She did not have time to ponder as to why it had been there in the first place, because someone was running across the street. He seemed to notice her too because he stopped and turned around. He walked over to her, took her hand, and kissed the back of it. She was to shocked to fight him off. He was wearing what looked like an all leather suit, with a bell at his neck, a mask covering his face, and cat ears sticking out amongst his golden hair. What floored her the most was that his belt was acting like a tail and slightly curling up. "I am Chat Noir, and who might you be, ma'lady?" Chat said as he looked up at her with bright green cat eyes. Marienette looked down at the hand he was still holding and noticed that a ring adorned his finger. She thought that he might hold another miraculous. "Just call me Ladybug, okay?" She took her hand away from his and an idea struck her. "We could maybe work as a team to stop Hawk Moth? It seems like it would be easier." Chat took a step back and looked at her with wide eyes. "I think it's a purrfect idea.