#which is maybe the only writing dream ive ever had and was a VERY direct message from my subconscious

[saddlepunk]

keep flipflopping between writing brother rabbit as one continuous piece and jumping around from plot point to plot point. im currently writing it in the order i think everything should be presented and its WORKING, im still writing daily and it isnt terrible even when it also isnt great. i think my current frustration is just coming from the fact that im writing a pov that Isnt Aliss and i want to Write Aliss Again. i could do that, i know where to pick him up after im done with this section, but theres two issues w that idea:

1) those other povs will still need to be written and putting them off wont make them easier

2) i can sometimes be bad abt remembering to actually... go back. which is why i stopped writing out of order in the first place.

maybe ive gotten good enough at my editing to not have to worry as much about that though like. for clarifications sake: i write everything longhand in a notebook, and recently ive finally gotten around to transcribing/editing often rewriting all that into scrivener, and thats been going well, so maybe i /can/ trust myself to actually write those bits when i Need To but...

i dunno!!! i do not know-

[huntingteeth]

author headcanons for i know how we got here (give in again) that don't spoil the fic but and might be fun to know

(seriously, go read the fic, which is mostly completed except for an epilogue before you read anything in this post l m a o)

part 1, aka chapters 1-5

chapter 1

did i ever mention that i started writing this fic because iii resonates with me as a Tall Who Looms? and honestly i've had issues in the past with multi-chaptered fic where either i a) lose interest in the fandom or b) get weirded out by demanding readers (y'all have been lovely, no notes), so i really wasn't expecting this fic to be as long as it ended up being. that's not an author headcanon, that's just some context about me as a person lol

i really wanted to introduce iii as someone who felt bright entering iv's life at that moment. all the sensory descriptors prior to them meeting in the coffee shop are supposed to feel invasive and uncomfortable, and then they meet and iv's environment starts to brighten.

when iv asks, "who the fuck are you?" this was initially going to transition into a scene where iv accused iii of being someone that marc sent to mess with him more but i'm really glad i ended up swiveling away from that perspective

there's a universe where iv tells iii no. there's a universe where iv lets iii take him somewhere safe, but it isn't with them. i'm really glad i'm writing in this universe haha

vessel being introduced as ves to iv was a conscious decision to illustrate the distance between iv and the group.

my author note on that chapter stands, it is WILD to use epithets for a character for an entire chapter. the redacted name does not exist, i just copied and pasted the black box into something vaguely name-shaped.

iii is intentionally coded as having adhd. i think adhd lines up really well with this sort of prophet/seer archetype that he has in this story. i've always enjoyed stories where that sort of archetype has Kind of a Bad Time. no i don't care to examine that fact

chapter 2

this entire first section of the fic up to 'he'll be happy to see you' is to really cement the idea that sleep is so far removed from the concept of humans that it can't conceptualize what humans actually are. sleep's an eldritch deity.

there's a really sketchy aspect of starting a soul bond with someone they've just met even if it's the only loophole out of a previous spell. i tried to be very transparent about that fact and intentional with how vessel, ii, and iii feel guilty about it but still allow iv the dignity of his choice, even if it's not really an active choice he can consent to. but it's incredibly sketchy!! we all know it!!

i think it kind of feels like a plot hole that iii remembers more of the dreams than iv does, but the reason for that is that iii is directly connected with a god who encouraged that connection between iii and iv, and iv hasn't practiced magic in so long that he's kind of lost that connection to magic that would have boosted his ability to reach out in dreams. i don't know that i conveyed that properly in the beginning of the story lol

here's a direct quote from the outline for this fic about what vessel does to marc's spell work: "vessel changes the spell that boyfriend cast because it's still active (for some weird reason) so that iv's soul will go to sleep instead of any ol' random deity that's lurking around." it's still active because the weird reason is that iv disappeared/banished marc before he could complete the ritual.

i s2g i read somewhere that a bard ability is to do like an inspiring snack, but i can't find the source so maybe i made it up. ANYWAY vessel feeding them here is the first reference to him essentially being a bard lol.

chapter 3

my initial thought for the dreams that iv had in the fic were that they were going to all be interconnected and slowly reveal exactly what happened when marc tried to kill iv before the story. so everything from "he gets home in the evening." to "what are you doing?" is real events and most everything else is dream.

there's a larger theme about iv's living room versus the living room at the boys' house that i tried to tie into this fic, lmao. your high school english teachers are weeping. iv's living room is supposed to indicate isolation while the boys' living room is supposed to indicate community.

III peers at him nervously. “Is this going somewhere or is this the end of the thought?” this line is a reference to every fic where sleep makes them forget their past lives. i see you, i love you, i hope you clocked the idea that in this universe that IS something sleep COULD do.

it was very important to me to establish that vessel, ii, and iii had a support system in place to contrast how alone iv was at the start of the story.

a part of the magic lore that i don't think i ever really expand explicitly on in this fic is that magic is very communal and universal. so even if you don't do magic, you're still surrounded by magic. at the coffee shop, the door frame was covered in protection charms -- this wouldn't necessarily be just the owners of the shop placing the protection charms, although they certainly would have started it. anyone who liked the coffee shop or felt protected by the coffee shop for whatever reason would have the option to leave their own protection charm and thereby boost the protection around the shop. if you extrapolate that, it's not actual weird that iv would offer up herbs he thinks would be beneficial to the protection of their home; in fact, in some ways it might be expected almost. like, i'm here, you're making me feel safe, here's how i can make you feel safe too. HOWEVER, marc really discouraged iv from using magic, in the same sort of way that he isolated iv from his friends, so iv feels like he stepped out of line in offering them, and ii is mostly just confused as to why iv would feel that way.

equivalent exchange really plays more of a role in this magic system when you aren't connected to a deity. i am perhaps thinking of exploring that more in maybe a spin-off oneshot.

WHO KNEW sam would become such an important character in this fic??? honestly not me, but i needed something to tie together the two locations. also the original plan was to have sam sublet iv's apartment to take care of that loose end, but then i got deep into uk subletting laws and also who would want to read about that anyway???

why can't ii just heal iv and be done with it?? why are there all these rules about who ii can heal and how he can do it?? well because as we eventually find out, ii's not a cleric/healer. also i thought it was more interesting to make it that a) ii can only heal those he's bonded with, b) his healing ability comes directly from sleep and so it's a little wonkier than regular healing would be, and c) because i think it adds depth to the universe as a whole. he can knit back iv's ribs, he can knit back vessel's cut skin, but bruises elude him. hilarious. also something something science developed equally with magic in this universe, so they have things like ibuprofen and cell phones

at this point, aside from ii's healing, sam is the person who does the most magic around iv.

chapter 4

gia is marc's friend, not iv's friend. this is also about the time when i decided that i wanted to expand the universe horizontally, if that makes sense.

paige is the least magically-inclined out of the three women, which is why sam makes her a detect magic necklace.

there's a lot of trauma that surrounds iv and marc and his friends that i'm probably never going to write, but it is there and it does inform a lot of the choices i make with regards to how iv starts to enter into the relationship with vessel, ii, and iii.

sam's relationship with paige, mattie, and lyns is intentionally ambiguous. are they just really good friends? are they all in a relationship? what do you think?

the girls do kidnap sam a lot. that's canon in this fic. they're always like "sam, you're coming with us" and he does.

iii definitely plays things close to the chest, which is what i was trying to convey here. if he's bringing it up willingly, then that means it's really making him feel bad. he has a lot of guilt about not trying harder to find iv, even if it might not have been the right time earlier.

this smut scene is the first smut scene i've ever written and shared with the world l o l. i really like the idea of them imposing a time limit on themselves and then being so desperate they can't even get their pants off about it, ahaha.

III'S VISION man what to even say here. the connection between iv's dream and iii's vision is obviously iv's disemboweled body. the god obviously has some sort of beef with sleep, but at this point in the fic i wasn't sure what is was. this whole vision is what actually happens with marc irl, so like it's happening in real time as iii's seeing it. i also really enjoyed writing the juxtaposition of this unknown god who fills iii with horror versus his eldritch deity who should fill iii with horror also but mostly just provides a sense of comfort in its unknowability. sleep definitely sees the unknown god as being something beneath her, which i hope is conveyed properly. and then, of course, sleep is an eldritch god who doesn't really get humans so of course she would yank iii out of the vision without realizing how traumatic it might be for iii.

chapter 5

this was a hard scene to write with vessel and iv because i know nothing about music production lmao.

iii takes a really center stage in this fic, which i'm not sure was initially intentional, but he is the character i find easiest to write. vessel illuminates more on iii because iii is someone he loves (something something he doesn't love himself as much)

vessel saying that he understands why iv has to be sad for a little while is referencing the fact that vessel also got out of a bad relationship.

iii is stuck in the vision after he wakes up. i chose very intentionally to make the things he says the things he heard in the vision. he's stuck in the vision but he's also trying to convey to his partners what's happening.

vessel essentially uses calm emotions here.

i wanted iii to feel very "locked-in" here. he's stuck in the vision, he can only say the things he heard, but he's also definitely present in his own brain. everything up to the final "keep him safe" is what he heard or asked during the vision.

he finally starts to break out of the vision when they're in the living room. i'm not sure if vessel or ii realize that it takes him that long to get out of it, or if they think that he broke free from it when vessel says "you had a vision, baby." when iii says "ow, my head," he's 100% free from it.

if i ever go back and do a little spot editing in this fic, i'm changing that last sentence in this scene to "III thanks him by lazily patting in his direction." l o l

all this to say that it's never explicitly stated, but iv definitely had a concussion and that's why he doesn't remember yeeting marc out of the dimension.

again, magic is a communal effort, so they need the girls and sam.

very technically iii is using detect thoughts. like with ii's healing, iii can only look deeply in on the thoughts of people who he's bonded with. he can pick up on other people's surface thoughts, though, which i don't think i ever discuss in any depth yet.

why not use this time to have iii be overly suggestive??? why not??

boof, iii sees iv banish marc and also sleep's gift to iv drops. sleep said she was going to give him what he deserved, and what does he deserve? to be able to defend himself.

part 2

[poptod]

Will You? (Rami Malek x Reader)

Description: Meeting Rami in the back alley behind an awards show.

Notes: ugh ive been having writers block for the first time in like two years so ive only been writing short stuff. i have a couple fics backpiled for various rami characters so thats coming up! gender neutral as usual WC: 1.5k

+

Ugh.

How quickly it all became too much. You wondered, clutching your aching head, why you even came here; large parties were never your scene, public events even less so. A world-wide broadcasted movie awards event was nothing near anything you'd done before. Earlier in the day, as you were dressing and readying yourself for the evening, you stared into the mirror and wondered then, as well, what you were doing.

Maybe––probably––it had to do with the fact that one of your favorite actors' presence was assured, and you rarely ever visited New York, making this the first time you'd been in the right place at the right time to have the opportunity to do this. You steeled yourself then and you steeled yourself now, digging into your clutch bag to pull out a carton of cigarettes.

You fumbled with the cigarette as you reached back in, searching for your lighter. A frustrated grumble grew in your mouth and came out as a curse. With a harsh sigh you yanked your hand out, throwing it up into the air, and sitting with a thud on a wooden box laying by the side of a large trash bin. You rubbed your face harshly, attempting to wipe away the irritation. To no avail––you had no lighter, and your nerves were itching, teeming with aggravation that crawled like bugs beneath your skin. You needed this and the world didn't like you.

The door you'd left the building from opened once more, swinging shut with a loud clanking sound that seemed to echo in the vacant alleyway. Drops of water fell into the puddles at your feet, still present from the earlier rain, and now filled with bits of trash. The very same water almost splashed onto you as a car passed by, its' wheels revving and spinning away through a massive puddle. It must've been midnight, but assholes were still awake as well, and the city lights showed no sign of stopping.

This was why you only visited New York City.

"Here," someone with a deep, rough voice spoke, and you looked up to find a vein-filled hand balancing a blue lighter between the second and third fingers.

There weren't any active lights in the alleyway, but the puddles reflected the street lights that stood a few meters away. That was enough to recognize him when you glanced to his face.

Rami fucking Malek.

He turned almost the second you looked up at him, meaning he didn't catch the sudden, stumbling recognition that flooded your expression. Thankfully, you had the time to calm yourself before he sat down across from you on a dirty (and probably wet) stool.

"Thank you," you said, lighting your cigarette and breathing in the sweet smoke before you said anything else. "You're a lifesaver."

"No, I just have a smoking problem," he said.

You both laughed, softly, and looked away.

You took another drag.

"You're Rami Malek, aren't you?" You said through the smoke that escaped you. It was rough on your throat, but you didn't especially care anymore. Somehow, you remembered a flask of water––just not the lighter.

"Yeah," he said with another soft, bashful, chuckle.

"I like your work. Or, your style," you mumbled as you tapped the ashy end away. He might've been a star of your dreams, and mere images of him might've taken your breath away, but you would treat him like a regular person. "It's.. unique, but familiar."

"Thank you," he said, nodding, a charming grin on his face. "May I ask your name?"

"(Y/N)." You shifted in your seat as you looked down. An ounce of humor came to you once you said, "you won't recognize the name."

"No, but I'm happy to recognize it in the future," he said, tilting his head in your direction.

You broke out in a laugh and a wide, blushing grin, shaking your head. God, he looked good in a suit––all black. Silver in his lapel. His neck revealed colored veins that led up to a jawline that would surely cut you. Why was he talking to you? Why was he being nice?

"You're a charmer," you finally said through your giggling, continuing with, "do you want some?" before he could say anything.

You handed the cigarette to him and he took it, pursing his lips and letting go with a puff of smoke. Even in the hot, humid air, those clouds coalesced and drifted away just as usual.

"You're not an actor," he stated, his eyes fixed on the cigarette as he tapped the ashes away. "Not here for that, so why are you here? Just out of curiosity."

"That's... a very good question," you said with an exasperated laugh. "I'm a teacher, I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Teacher?" He repeated. "My brother's one of those. What d'you teach?"

He handed the cigarette back to you.

"Third graders," you grumbled. He sucked in a sharp breath in a wince. "I usually do first graders, but not this year."

"That's rough, I've heard those are demonic years," he said, earning a laugh from you.

"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it," you said as you doted on the cigarette. "I guess this is just the first time I've visited New York when an awards show is happening."

"How do you like the big screen life so far?"

"Not very much, but I never thought I would," you said quietly, but he still chuckled. "I... I did think about being an actor, when I was a kid. I think a lot of kids do these days, though. Actors are.. like the new Gods. You know, in ancient times people would worship idols, and that's what people call you now..." you met his gaze and couldn't tear yourself from it, "... idols. Images of something to strive for."

He nodded, his brow creased in deep thought.

"After a while the world shows you what celebrity life is really like, and you read all sorts of things, see how people change... eventually you don't really want it anymore," you said, shrugging. "Or you decide you want it, or want part of it despite the other stuff."

He nodded again but had little to say despite being a celebrity himself.

"Which was it for you?"

"Hm?"

A spell broke over his eyes and he appeared to return to normal, having not heard or comprehended your words.

"Did you become an actor because you wanted all of it, with the bad parts, or you wanted a specific part and still became an actor despite all the other things?"

"... complex question," he said after a moment, rocking his balance back and forth awkwardly as you laughed. "I wanted to become other people, transform myself into characters. I was attracted to the job. Not the other things attached to it."

"Well I'm glad you became an actor anyway," you said, relighting the cigarette with a quick drag. "That way I could meet you."

"And I could meet you, as well," he said in that same, deep voice he used when he first spoke to you.

You could do nothing but chuckle and cast your eyes down, shaking your head.

"Yeah, I guess you could," you mumbled.

He reached forward, snagging the cigarette from between your fingers. That made you look up, drawing your attention back to the subtle lines marking his face, and the glow of fire that revealed cool, green eyes behind thick lashes.

A loud wave of cheering came from inside the building, and the both of you looked back at the steel door. Still unopened.

"I should probably get inside, the cameras might notice my seat's empty," he said in a similar mumble.

The cigarette, now nothing more than a filter, dropped from his lips and fell to the ground, squashed beneath his shiny, black shoe.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Have to be," you said as you stood. "Not wasting a fifty dollar ticket on my damn social anxiety."

He chuckled and said, "I'd invite you to sit with me, but there aren't any free spots. How about..." He'd been opening the door, but he paused, causing you to misstep and halt yourself only when your chest was an inch from his. Your eyes darted up to his. "Come see me after the show. I have a '97 bottle of Montalcino at home that I think you'd enjoy."

You nearly choked on your own spit, but fortunately for you, it only came out as a cough and a clearing of the throat. 'What', almost escaped your mouth in the most astounded tone before you bit it back.

Was he propositioning you? Was this a friendly invitation? Why was, again, Rami fucking Malek asking to spend anymore time with you than he had to?

You realized a silence had spanned between you when his eyes flickered down to your lips, at which point shock fully brought you back into your body.

"Will you?" He asked hopefully.

"Yeah," you murmured. "I'd like that."

[xbaepsae]

the ebb and flow | part nine

“Her hair is as dark as ebony and her eyes—her eyes reveal a storm, much like your own.”

[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]

genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au

word count: 1.2k

rating: pg-13

warnings: vulnerability, some sweet moments, mommy issues?!

a/n: wow. i havent been active or written on tumblr in so long i cant even remember how to properly format shit omg. anyway, hello friends! this year has been absolutely crazy, and so much has changed in my life, but long story short: ya girl finally caught feelings. and ive been too busy entertaining my boyfriend to properly write. eeeekkk omg i have a whole ass mans wtf. so...yeah...here is the much belated next installment to this drabble series! hope you enjoy. i love this chapter so much. xoxo

→ series masterlist!

the fifth summer – in which you meet her

One of the things you’ve always hated about being a demigod is that dreams are often a direct reflection of reality or an illusion caused by Phantasos, so it’s difficult to tell what’s the truth. Though in this case, you might already be dead.

“You are not dead.”

The voice is smooth like honey, yet stern and powerful all at once. Never have you heard this voice before, but you feel…comforted. Safe. Things you usually don’t ever feel as a demigod since monsters are always lurking. But at this moment, you feel yourself relaxing—letting go of your worries.

In the vacant space that was before you moments ago is now a beautiful woman. The finest silk is draped across her body, accentuating her feminine curves. Beads of gold and precious jewels adorn her wrists and fingers. Her hair is as dark as ebony and her eyes—her eyes reveal a storm, much like your own.

“Athena,” you breathe, recognizing her immediately.

Like any other demigod, you’ve always imagined what it would be like to meet your godly parent. Most of the kids at camp have never had any sort of direct interaction with the gods, besides being officially claimed. You’ve always heard that the gods are too busy, though maybe it’s just because they have too many children to keep up with.

You have only ever felt your mother—through signs—when in danger. So, finally seeing her and directly hearing her voice placates you.

The goddess of wisdom and battle strategy takes a step closer to you, and the act seems to knock the wind out of your lungs. Your senses are filled with the aroma of olives and nectar; it’s almost too much. Just when you think you’re going to succumb to these sensations, one sharp look from Athena pacifies you.

“Calm yourself, child,” she seems to chastise, like an actual mother would do. “I thought I created you better than this.”

You’re at a loss for words. “Did I do something wrong? I just—I’m shocked to see you…”

At the trail of your words, Athena can tell that you’re holding back. For just a moment, her eyes soften in the slightest. “I know I am not the most involved in your life”—an understatement of the century, you think— “but I am proud to be your mother.”

“Really?” You feel like a child seeking approval.

“Just because I do not always intervene in your life, it does not mean I am not watching over you,” she says. “I always have, my dear.”

Warmth pools in your stomach at her genuine disposition. “Thank you…mom.”

A soft grin lights Athena’s face, and you see the curve of your own smile in hers. You try to encase this moment in your mind; you don’t want to forget a single bit of it. Her smile, the way she smells, how her hair is pinned up—you want to remember it all.

“So, why are you here now?” you can’t help but wonder.

“Physically, I am not with you,” she admits, “because you are not awake.”

“You said I didn’t die…” in the water.

Athena nods. “Yes, you are very much alive. Just asleep. I came here to tell you to wake up.”

“And how do I do that?”

“That I cannot help you with,” she sighs. “It is something you must do on your own. However, I think, perhaps, finding something of motivation should do the trick.”

Motivation? Was waking up not motivating enough? Why did this have to be so difficult? As you think of a possible valid reason to wake up, you lock eyes with your mother. How strange that you have the same eyes as her.

“I believe you know what motivates you,” her eyes twinkle for a second, and you would’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention. “Think a little deeper, dear. I am sure something will spring to mind.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you deadpan.

“I think you do. In fact, I am almost positive it is wading through your mind at this very moment.”

“Mom.”

“Daughter.”

You blink. “Are you being serious right now?”

“I think that Jeon boy is rather interesting, would you agree?”

You release a breath. “The son of Poseidon? I thought you hated the sea god.”

Athena’s brows furrow. “I do—that rivalry has withstood ages. Poseidon is a pompous idiot, and I will stand by that statement until the end of my immortality. However, I do have to admit I sometimes do not hate his offspring.”

“I don’t like Jeon Jeongguk.”

“I never said you did,” the goddess nearly laughs, and you freeze.

You feel heat rise up your chest and spread across your face. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Of course not, dear,” Athena muses, clearly struggling to keep a smile off her face.

“He annoys me, mother,” you sigh, attempting to move past your momentary lapse of character. “Like a literal thorn in my side.”

“All I am going to say is, I have been watching you these last few summers. And I have never seen anyone exude as much passion as you have when it comes to that boy,” she says. “Remember, love and hate are two sides of the same coin.”

You roll your eyes. “There is no such thing as love between Jeongguk and I. It is all hate.”

Athena gives you a knowing look, but she doesn’t tease you again. Instead, she takes another step closer to you—mere inches away now—and brings a hand up to brush your hair behind your ear. For a second, her stormy eyes become a kaleidoscope of colors; as if every emotion is passing across. Colors you’ve never seen make an appearance and you try to take them all in—swearing you’ll never forget a single one.

“Wake up, okay? I will see you soon.”

As the last word slips past her lips, the image of your mother begins to fade. Almost foolishly, you reach a hand out to stop the disintegration. But with a blink, she’s gone and you’re all alone again.

Only now, the emptiness of the space begins to suck you in. And you allow it; you allow the darkness to devour you. Maybe the fates have decided to pluck your string for real this time. Still, your mother’s words ring in the back of your mind.

Motivation.

You think hard about what motivates you. For one, your father—he motivates you; though, not necessarily anymore since you’re focused on camp. That’s another thing—your cabin; they motivate you to be a great leader, though you don’t necessarily do it for their approval. So, what really motivates you then?

Almost shamelessly, you know what your greatest motivation of all is—the person who has pushed you, indirectly and nearly accidentally, to do everything you’ve done for the last five summers. The person you have wanted to surpass. The person who irritates you to no end, yet you can’t seem to escape.

Your mother was right, but you don’t want to admit it—not even to yourself.

This is so silly, you can’t help but think. I can barely tolerate him…why is he always the root of all my problems? Though, I guess being a pain in the ass does result in a good source of motivation.

Suddenly, the darkness around you begins to crumble, and brightness fills your senses. The light is warm, and you feel yourself being transported.

Then, your eyes open

[clumsyclifford]

2021 Writing Self-Evaluation

thank youuu @allsassnoclass​ i fucking LOVE this idea i am going to say SO many things rn i am so excited. 

prefacing this by saying i’m only counting the stuff i posted to bellawritess because i do have a different ao3 account where i post All My Other Fic Writing but (1) i don’t use it nearly as much now that i’m so focused on the rpf stuff and (2) don’t wanna doxx myself lol. so yeah! onward.

edit after finishing this: to absolutely no one’s surprise, i was about as long-winded as humanly possible on every single question i could. so i’ll put a cut and you can read my silly little musings underneath it if you like.

1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 88 fics, apparently!! that’s everything i wrote in 2021, both prompt fics and... normal fics? idk what you would call those.

2. Word count posted for the year: clocking in at a whopping 351,552 words for the year. yeesh. get a life woman.

3. Fandoms I wrote for: 5sos, all time low, and one direction. 

4. Pairings: oh boy. from most to least according to ao3: jalex, malum, lashton, cake, merrikat, rilex, cashton, muke, mashton, 5sos ot4, and 1d ot5, plus also a handful of friendship fics.

5. Story with the most Kudos/Bookmarks/Comments: i really appreciate that these are all questions i can use ao3 features to find the answers for. thank you to whoever made this ask game. ANYWAY.

 for kudos, unsurprisingly, you seem so damn familiar takes top spot. that one also has the most comments (quelle surprise) and the 2nd most bookmarks. most bookmarks actually goes to and it all makes sense to me, the ot5 fic!! that’s so fun i love that. also, simply because it makes me happy, i’m sharing that the 2nd most comments/comment threads i guess goes to fever dream high in the quiet of the night, aka cruel summer fic. 

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): i mean, it’s hard not to say you seem so damn familiar. that’s the obvious answer, but i am hella proud of it. i mean, 40k in ten days, and look how fucking good it is!!!!!! also i did kind of forget about the ot5 fic but i’m proud of that one too because i wrote it for @mastasof-ravenkroft​ for his birthday but i did the stupid thing where i forgot to start writing it til like. the day before. or NIGHT before. and so i essentially just binge wrote the whole thing, but it was a fic i had wanted to write for a long time and i actually wrote it exactly how i wanted it to be, PLUS it’s a 5+1 which is maybe my favorite fic format, AND it’s an ot5 fic, which i’ve never done. and it turned out really really nice actually. so yes, very proud of that one. i don’t know if i should stop because this question only asks for one or if i should keep listing them because honestly i deserve it. 

i’m really proud of the friendship fics i wrote, but probably most proud of the first one, dearly depressed and brokenhearted (i’d like to let you know that boys cry too). that was a bit of a breakthrough moment for me and adri’s review of it lives rent free in my brain. so many songfics i finally managed to get out of my brain and into words, i’m proud of all of those. omg godlight fic? the good grace of that godlight, the weird ass luke hemmings time travel thing?? that was such a strange writing undertaking, and it ended up exactly how i wanted it. basically every time i finally got words down for an idea i’d been having and they were exactly the right words to make the exact fic i wanted, i count those as the biggest victories. ahhh the jewish cake kitchen fic i wrote for meg’s birthday, it’s so simple, was another example of that, plus i LOVED getting to write more jewish cake, and i feel like i absolutely captured my love of kitchens in that fic. also i NEED to include cruel summer fic here because. to date still one of the best fics ive ever written.

wait i thought of one more jesus christ im so sorry can you tell i love my own writing?? no but seriously, taylor @squishmichael asked me for a fic based on therapy and so i wrote keeping this up could be dangerous and i really AM proud of that one, because when they asked me for that fic i thought to myself jesus christ how am i going to capture the feeling of the song therapy. and then i started writing and like. i think i actually captured it so well. and some of the metaphors in that fic are just...mmmmmmmmmm. 

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): LMAO okay fine ill do this. but it’s not that i’m not proud of these just that i think if i wrote them now i would do a better job. the fic i wrote based on taxi, two punch-drunk souls all tangled in the wind, i would change a lot of that dialogue. i was really concerned with making it sound as close to what john the maine says in the song, but in retrospect that was a dumb thing to try and do, considering no one fuckin talks the way john the maine says people talk. also crazy is what i like, the one based on all my friends by tss, because...i don’t know it was just a very interesting choice of song to try and make a fic. like it has such a vivid story but i don’t think it was exactly the kind of story that should have been written by me. like i think for example anna could have probably done a more loyal job of it. and i don’t know. i sat on that fic for a while because i thought it was kind of strange. so yeah. i love both of those fics very much but yknow. asked and answered.

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: the comment adri left me on dearly depressed and brokenhearted. i think about it all the fucking time. it drives me to write more friendship fics. genuinely. honestly this is an embarrassing thing to admit but i forget the majority of the comments i receive once i’ve replied to them. it’s nice to go through comments on my fics and reread them though, because i don’t remember getting them!! hmm team @4thbrighteststar has said several times on multiple fics of mine that she would sometimes read a scene that made her want to act it out, and that landed really well with me. that always makes me happy. also every time she’d comment PSYCHHH MAJORRRR on yssdf, because yes i am.

and taylor had a really cool response to the godlight fic which maybe i’m not allowed to exactly explain what it was, but it was awesome.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: SPRING FIC EXCHANGE. YEEEEEEEEEEEEESH. so first of all i was juggling first schoolwork and then working at camp, and second of all, noah i say this with love but your fic preferences form thing was VERY contradictory and made it so hard to settle on a fic plot. or even to come up with one. essentially i was trying to write a fic that had all of the tropes of a fluffy fic, but make it angst. and also, i was not in a headspace for writing angst, cos you know how that kinda thing comes and goes, so it was twice as hard!!! and when i got to camp i’d be exhausted and working all day and then be done at like. eleven or midnight and then. have to somehow find time to write fic exchange fic. it was. difficult. i did finish it a week late and i am still sorry about that but honestly i’m surprised it was only a week. that somehow feels like a win to me considering what that fic put me through lmao

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: oh hell i feel like this happens to me so often but for some reason now that you’ve asked i am blanking on every single instance. oh! well i wrote this fic, who knew we were lightning? (i saw a spark before we heard any sound), and it was supposed to be a jack-centric fic based on jack and his relationship with guitars throughout the years or whatever. but then out of absolutely nowhere it became a jalex fic, which i guess shouldn’t surprise me but did. i didn’t hate it but it did blindside me. also, godlight fic completely surprised me mostly because it was one of those times where i thought “hey, hypothetically this song would be such an interesting fic” and then thought “nah but i’ll never actually write that” and then i wrote it that same day. another time that happened was with i can’t focus when you’re with me (i can’t sleep when i’m alone), the one that happened as a result of me having the chorus of XO stuck in my head. AND last answer: give me the worst of you (worst of you songfic). fic about a very unhealthy relationship, featuring jack barakat the toxic boyfriend. very unexpected writing venture on my part. although i’m more surprised that i posted it, tbh, because it was supposed to just be an exercise to see if i could write something like that, and i didn’t plan to post it, and then now here we are.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: okay so realistically i would just paste all 88 fics i posted in 2021 here, but obviously im. not doing that. so i’m gonna go with a piece of and it feels like i’m losing you twice, the sex (with my ex) songfic, because i got distracted in the middle of answering these questions just to reread that fic and MAN it slaps. here:

If they’ve both misunderstood the assignment then maybe they got the wrong assignment. Maybe they were never supposed to be friends. Maybe Jack’s hand on Alex’s knee and Alex’s gaze caught on Jack’s mouth is a spark that lights fireworks rather than land mines. Something beautiful rather than something destructive.

If they’re gonna explode either way, they may as well make it art.

i’m just gonna say it: that land mine metaphor KICKED ASS. i don’t know when i got to be so good at metaphors i’m pretty sure it was a super intentional effort in this fic but it paid off.

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: oh man! well as previously mentioned i think i became a lot better at like...intentional metaphors and trying to vary the ones i make. also i learned the importance of a little bit of conflict in a plot and i did a lot of exploring different kinds of relationships between people, rather than just happy easy romance. that was really good for me to do. i think it helped me to write more realistic relationships than i had been. and maybe circling back to the plot thing but i sort of realized that there’s only so much you can do without conflict, cos then you just have a bunch of scenes, basically. and when there’s a driving thing in a story it means that the scenes are all leading up to something and that helps to guide the story and honestly makes writing easier a lot of the time. so those are some things!

13. How do you hope to grow next year: see #12! no actually i think i want to be better at showing and not telling. right now i’m kind of in the middle, i think i do a lot of showing AND telling, and i want to be able to trust my audience more. meghna is really good at this. i am still working on it. 

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): @tirednotflirting and @reveriesofawriter sam and meghna were easily my main audience for the majority of my fics. i don’t foresee that changing. i love you guys. also of course megs @igarbagecannoteven who had to literally put up with my melodramatic bitching and complaining about every single tiny problem i had with anything i ever wrote. megs you are my favorite rubber duck. yknow i was thinking earlier about how much i agonized over the title for, what was it. oh!! the title for situation overload (do it for baltimore)!!! and then in the end all the agonizing was worth it because it caused me to land on what i think is actually a perfect title for it. so thank you for dealing with my insanity so that the rest of the world can reap the benefits i guess. everyone who ever listens to me talk about my writing in any capacity, whether gushing about how good i am at it (which i do often) or complaining about how hard and annoying it is (which i also do often) has positively influenced my writing experience.

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: many things, no conceivable way i can list them all. speaking of situation overload (do it for baltimore), that fic has a lot of pieces of my relationship with megs in it, specifically involving me getting her into baseball as best i could. i think ive mentioned this before but this jalex prompt fic you need a pick-me-up? (i’ll be there in twenty-five) has jack in a situation that is directly taken from something that happened to me, and yes it was absolutely fucking terrifying then. i projected my homesickness onto cashton in this prompt fic i’m a little kid and so are you (don’t you go and grow up before i do), and also the thing about lauren’s gerbils from this lashton fic for jess, you should know i’ll be there for you, is based on what happened to my younger sister’s gerbils. luke’s insecurities about his friends liking his siblings better in maybe this is just as good as it gets is straight out of a younger bella’s headspace (fortunately not something i worry about anymore now that we, yknow, go to different schools and are super different people and both adults, but ya know). to name a few.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: i am going to be brief because i got asked for writing advice earlier this year and wrote an essay basically, but it boils down to this: like what you write. if you don’t like what you’re writing, write it differently! write something new! write something no one else will read, so you don’t feel like you have to cater to anyone else! but seriously, write something that you can enjoy, because if even you don’t like the art you’re creating, you can’t expect anyone else to. if you can’t stand in front of a council and say “you will enjoy reading this because [x]” (if you can’t even say “because i liked reading it”).......you’re losing your most reliable audience member. be proud of what you create! don’t compare your successes to the successes of other writers! everyone has different goals, writes at different rates, prioritizes differently, prefers different tropes and types of fics. actually yeah i feel strongly about this. don’t compare yourself to other writers. you are your own writer doing your own thing. ask for help, take inspiration, set goals for yourself that are valuable to you, but don’t compare. if you try to become a writer that already exists, no one wins. you know that cheesy but very true oscar wilde quote? if it is even him? be yourself, everyone else is already taken? yeah. write your own stories, everyone else is already writing theirs. or something. you know what i mean. it was funny when i said i was going to be brief here. okay getting off my soapbox now. thanks for having me on tedx.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: oh!! yes!!! many!!!!!! oh what a fun question!!!!! i am still working on summer camp au but i recently picked it back up and wrote an important section of it so i’m cautiously optimistic that i can finish that sometime soon-ish and then can start posting it which would be very nice because i already miss having a chapter fic to update, and i think people are going to really like it. also there is the [redacted] fic which is SO funny and which will be finished and posted soon and i literally cannot fucking wait, i have kept this silly crack pairing a secret for so long and the fic has some of my funniest most entertaining writing but i can’t SHARE any of it without SPOILING it so i’m really looking forward to putting that into the world at long last.

beyond that there’s a jalex 5+1 that i’m hoping to finish (it is currently about halfway done), and i’m planning to write the long awaited (by me) elevator fic at some point, once i...decide what i’m going to write for it. i’ve got one more installment of tshirt jalex in the works, involving middle school band teacher alex gaskarth, and i think that one is going to be really fun once i finish it. oh oh also! this one fic from a prompt fiancee sent me (do you have time to hold on with me), it’s a lashton fic but i wrote jalex into it for funsies and i made alex nonbinary and ever since then i have just been thinking about he/they alex gaskarth forever and ever. i want to write more of them so bad. so like. maybe we will see some nb alex content sooner or later, hopefully.

and i know paige and meghna want me to write ocallakarth and ill admit im letting it sit in the back of my mind but i make no promises considering the existence of the [redacted] fic and other various factors. but it could be a fun exercise.

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read. okay!! yes!! @tirednotflirting @reveriesofawriter @cringeycal @kaleidoscopeminds @igarbagecannoteven and also anyone else who sees this and wants to! if you read all the way to the bottom of this post then i feel like you deserve a tag so consider yourself tagged lmao. love you all, happy new year <3

[wokestraightpuffy]

Hallo, i hope you are alright and that my ask aren’t annoying but I wanted to ask do you have any c!puffy headcannons? —🤡

YOURE NOT ANNOYING AT ALL !!! NEVER THINK THAT ILU VERY MUCH. MUAH /p

as for c!puffy headcanons, i am not the best person to ever organize their thoughts properly but ill try my best >:’D

ahaha. this got. super complex and way too long and more of like an introspective study to puffy now instead of harmless fun headcanons so, uh. under read more <3 (also reminder this is all /rp and /dsmp)

* i like to think that she has a hero complex, but its a bit different since she never really sees herself as an ‘important’ part of the story, not the main character but a support one, hence ‘im fine with being the side character’ or how she’s said she doesnt care what happens to her and would gladly sacrifice(?) herself if there werent other people she had to protect. girl u need therapy urself <3

* though very open with how she feels and never afraid to say when someone/something is upsetting her, ‘opening up’ is still a whole mountain climb for her, apparently. like, she’d rant about the egg, get mad at the eggpire, let off some steam by committing arson or exploding stuff, she’ll rarely ever talk about how much the stuff that upset her actually HURT her. does that make sense? LIKE, she’ll lash out, she’ll get mad, she’ll take NO SHIT thrown at her face, but to show the kinda vulnerability of dealing with that? to cry about it talk about those feelings with someone? I think she’d rather eat her own foot lol

* adding onto the thing above, she doesnt necessarily actually realize this about herself. less of actively doing it and rather growing... used to the ‘cycle of violence’ in the smp as they call it. and the fact that rarely have people really asked, that no one’s actually available for that, w her losing her closest friends, bad and ant, sam being busy w the warden stuff... and niki. yeah. there’s foolish, but i doubt she’d ever see venting to someone she considers her son appealing

* also. puffy is just sometimes... really bad at conveying sadness. i think she’s a rare crier. id go as far to say that shes even more emotionally constipated than dream, lol (but maybe not while the guy’s in his prison arc) and that she’d be the type of person to tell you its okay to cry but beat herself up over something if she let a tear slip in a heated moment

* speaking of sadness. she’ll only ever actually Be Sad if she’s alone or with someone she doesnt necessarily care the opinions of. yknow how she mourned for tommy and blamed herself? those dialogue bits? yeah, those are only times shed actually be vulnerable

* puffy’s go to response to the egg and how its fucked up her relationship w her friends is pure fury. but, going off of her line about ‘failing bad and ant’ i like to think that she probably hates herself the most about it. THAT IS A STRONG WORD LOL BUT YEAH. she yells and curses and gets mad, but sometimes i wonder if the words she had spat before were more directed to herself

* THIS GIRL HAS SELF-IDENTITY PROBLEMS. CAN WE GET A HELL YEAH FOR THAT CHAT? outside of having no goddamn clue about where she came from, how she got here and who she even is, scrounging up a role for herself in a server with a war on the background and traumatized kids got her resignedly coerced into thinking that she is only a Parent. Only good enough when she’s actually doing something Useful for people. SO. when she finds that ship? of having a crew and having a curse? OF FINDING OUT SHE MIGHT HAVE/ HAVE HAD A MOM THATS WAITING FOR HER?  the sense of control she has on herself is absolutely crushed. shattered, and she’s left to pick up the pieces w no one to talk abt it with <3

* adding onto the above, it’s why the line ‘I’m supposed to be mama puffy. me.’ hurts me so much! so yes! please cry with me :D

* also to add more on the fact that she thinks she’s only worth something when she’s being useful, puffy literally contemplated leaving the server, thinking that it wouldnt matter leaving since no one really needs her anyway, since she’s failed so many people. bad and ant, tommy, dream. shes said how foolish can take care of himself on how tubbo and ranboo have each other, how she and niki have drifted so far away from each that it might as well be a break up.

HOOOOOOOOOO OBOY . anon youve really given me the perfect chance to ramble huh? sorry for the rather incomprehensible brainrot, here’s more lighthearted headcanons about puffy asdhfkd

* she cannot stand still sometimes. she always has to be doing something extra, walking when the prime path is right there? shed rather go through tedious little holes or hop and balance onto fences to get where shes going. she’ll mindlessly fix up the path when there are holes or mismatched wood, and one time went on a long, long LONG journey cleaning up the paths tommy purposely DESTROYED near lmanburg and even added cobblestone sidings which werent there before

* puffys a bit of a sentimental person. writing in her log to clear her thoughts sometimes and cared enough to try and preserve lmanburg with the glass sheet and trying to find possible surviving artifacts of history to respect it, even though she’s never been a part of it. its also why, when doomsday happened and lmanburg got permanently poofed, she began to appreciate the buildings that are still standing and began taking more pics 

* she’s not used to being... what do you call it, um, cared for? she’d deflect compliments sometimes, when shes having a particular bad day, like, she’d laugh nervously and change the subject, sometimes she’d outright deny it, most days she’d jokingly say ‘staphhh it’ and add a very genuine thanks. my point being is, do something for puffy that is mildly nice and she’d keep that moment in her heart forever. 

* also funny story regarding the above. u know how karl is notorious for stealing her materials? and how puffy was contemplating doing something in retaliation for them? karl says hi for once when she joins the server and she goes ‘alright fine youre safe for saying hi’ LOL THIS WAS PROBABLY A BIT META WISE but something about this implying that the bare minimum or LESS is enough to make puffy forgive someone is very sad and funny at the same time for me. girl really said ‘oh you said hi to me? thats nice all the crimes youve ever done towards me is now forgiven. <3’ (this is a bit of an exaggeration on my part, ofc, i just think its funny LMAO) 

* ironically, despite being the ‘captain’, whenever riding a boat with someone, she prefers being on the backseat and letting them drive. ig shes just there for the ride i suppose, her and her uber drivers :3

 * she either has a rather unhealthy obsession with baked potatoes or she just doesnt wanna waste eret’s massive potato farm

* idc what cc!puffy says is c!puffy will always and forever be 5′2″ in my HEART. u are the shortest member, u cannot change this <3

* shes really fond of animals/ neutral mobs. she often baby talks to them and they help boost her mood a lot when shes having a bad day :D

* up to this day, the little secret rooms she’s created around the server have all been yet to be discovered, unless the one under bad’s house has been found. she rarely ever really keeps tabs on them, and more often than not they are just collecting dust. she still visits sometimes and cleans them up ofc

* she still genuinely thinks dream can change. cc!puffy’s line about that, ‘i’m his last hope.’ really makes me think about this a lot. 

* ive seen people talk abt it a bit but the headcanon that puffy acts as the server mom to fill the ‘void’ of her missing her mom makes me cry at night /hj

* she really likes her rainbow onesie! i headcanon that eret gave her that along w the sunglasses, but she started wearing that less when she found her old captains uniform. shes never really said why, though, and nobody ever really bothered to ask

* god bless this woman but sometimes the server members get on her nerves sometimes so she goes out of her way to traverse along far away from the main community to maybe commit a few crimes. let off some steam. these take a few days but she always returns

i probably have a lot more hcs but i cant remember them >_> THIS IS A LOT ANYWAY. HOPE U ENJOYED MY BRAIN VOMIT. IF U READ THIS FAR ILU THANK U

if there are mistakes it is bc i am crying and cannot see my keyboard and also i am sleep deprived /hj

[fallin-4-ya]

The Follies and Vices of You

cedric diggory x reader- part iv of series 

based off the novel and film ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen

summary: Being the beloved sister of the incredibly wealthy Mr. Potter, you felt no need to rush into marriage. But one day, when you come to meet a new acquaintance, the proud Mr. Diggory, your views of love and follies change.

warnings: a bit of angst & tension! (gif is not mine, credit to owner!)

part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v

‘Maybe it’s that I find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offenses against me. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.’ -Jane Austen 

The month of January passed dreadfully slow, as you waited for something interesting to happen. As the snow fell softly onto the ground, thoughts wondered through your head rapidly, most of them involving Mr. Diggory. In fact, he occupied your mind most days. How dreadfully awkward that poor man is, you pondered, and yet how confident. His character never made sense to you, as awfully as he appeared on the outside, you could tell there was much beneath his many layers. But your thoughts were soon interrupted by a knock on the door, it was the post.

‘From Miss Ginerva, Miss Y/N.’ You smiled and nodded thankfully. Excited, you ripped the letter open and the inside read,

My Dearest Miss Y/N, I hope my letter find you very well. How dreadful these past few days have been, for all of this snow has made me think of nothing besides summer time. I was invited to stay at my brother Bill’s until the end February; Miss Hermione Granger will be attending alongside me, to encourage sisterly bonding. I am sorry to hear that Mr. Malfoy has resided back to his home up north, but I do hope that he continues to write you such pretty verses. I shall be home before the flowers bloom. Be well.

Much love, Ginerva

You sighed thinking of how even more boring the next few months would be without the company of a most dear friend. 

Now that Mr. Malfoy was sent back home, the house was quieter than ever. Between Harry managing the estate, Sirius writing business proposals and Mr. Lupin locked up in the library; you felt most unentertained and gittery. Letters began being sent to you the day after he left, expressing a fondness for you, which kept your boredom to a minimum. You thought long about the letters exchanged between you and Mr. Malfoy; Ginny was certainly right in saying the verses were beautiful. She also urged you that there would soon be a proposal on the line if he kept with the letters, though you secretly hoped it wouldn't be anytime soon.

The next evening, to much of your excitement, you were joined by Mr. Fred and George Weasley for dinner, who were in the company of nobody other than Mr. Diggory. Reaching a hand out for each of the Weasley men, they took it graciously planting a kiss upon it. Extending out to Mr. Diggory as well, he ignored your gesture and simply bowed in your direction. After the questionable gesture from the latter of the men, you lead them to the dining room, where the rest of your family awaited.

The evening was going splendidly, much laughter and wide smiles reigned. That was, until a letter arrived addressed to you from Mr. Malfoy. You excused yourself from the table, to retire to the parlor to read it.

Blushing profusely and smiling at the beautiful verses addressed to you, unaware of the floorboards that creaked viciously behind; you sat on the armchair nearest the window of the parlor. You heard a throat clear at the doorway and shot your head up.

 ‘Mr. Diggory! I am so sorry, I mustn’t have heard of your following.’ Humming to yourself, you gazed out the window, ‘I do love this time of the year, Mr. Diggory. The snow is nothing short of lovely.’

‘Yes, Miss Potter, I do agree that the snow is very beautiful but I must interject and beckon you about some-‘

‘He’s thought to propose, you know. Mr. Malfoy that is. Quite strange, isn’t it; how young girls go to young women with only a proposal.’ You unknowingly interrupted in your dream state.

‘Miss Potter, I truly cannot help but to interject; however, there is a matter of urgency I’d like to discuss.’ Mr. Diggory huffed. Being pulled out of your trance, patience grew thin, you turned your head and snapped, ‘What is it, Mr. Diggory, that you feel so inclined to interrupt me for?’

‘Its addressing Mr. Malfoy. You see I am afraid I must interject on a most sensitive discussion topic.’

‘If you have anything negative to say about Mr. Malfoy, I must urge you that I'm the last person who would be inclined to hear it! And if you have some here to ruin my evening, I am afraid I won’t allow it.’ 

With that you grabbed your coat and trekked out into the falling snow. Footsteps not far behind you, you sped up; unwilling, or rather unwanting of hearing what anybody had to say. The crunching of snow only following you farther, as you followed the angelic pathway to the stone pavilion in the graden. You threw your back against the wall, sighing out deeply. Without a moment of peace Mr. Diggory entered your presence.

‘You cannot marry him’

You were taken aback by his sudden bluntness. Exasperated by his cultivated occurrence of strange actions you cocked your head at him.

‘May I ask you why, Mr. Diggory?’

‘The Malfoy family is least cordial, completely unattached and deranged from society. They are completely unsuitable for a family such as yours.’

‘A family such as mine?! Have you come here to separate an engagement or to insult my family, Mr. Diggory? Or rather, does your sudden interest in my affairs have anything to do with your dislike towards Mr. Malfoy; because believe me, Mr. Diggory, I know well of your disputes with the poor gentleman and will not stop an engagement from happening due to your pride and arrogance.’

‘No, Miss Potter! You know perfectly well that I find your family most respectable. I just find their family uncommony stiff for your reckless behavior.’

‘Reckless behavior! How dare you insult not only my upkeeping but a personality of another. Have you forgotten the follies and vices of you, Mr. Diggory? For who are you to judge another?’

‘Miss Y/N, has it ever occurred to you that you may be too harsh on me or perhaps my light on you may have been caused by the misjudgment of one’s character? I beg of you to enlighten me on why you find me the most disagreeable man.’

‘Well then, I beg you, Mr. Diggory, why you wish to separate a young couple who have grown quite fond of each other?’

‘Because I love you.’

There was a lull and Mr. Diggory halted. ‘I love you most ardently and I could not have you go another day more without you knowing of the likeness I have for you.’

You stood in silence, snow falling ever so godly on you both, speechless. Words clouded your mind, and you wanted to scream, and cry, and love, and erupt all at the same time. But rather than doing any of them, you looked back on him with a haze in your eyes.

‘I would not marry you if you were the last man in the world.’ You said walking away, allowing a tear slip silently from your face.

The next day there was a knock on your bedroom door early in the morning. Mr. Diggory walked in humbled and shy, ‘Miss Y/N, I’ve come to leave this for you. I hope you do me the honor to read it. Thank you much for your time.’

You had not even reached his gaze, for he spoke for too quickly and you were far too angry. Staring at the enveloped with a tear stained face for nearly an hour, you decided to open it.

Dear Miss Potter,

I hope my letter finds you in good health. I do not wish to impose on you again what I have said last night; for I am writing to you today not to remind you of said words, but rather converse upon the accusations you have brought upon me. I urge you that everything in this letter is the truth and have many to testify upon it.

Mr. Draco Malfoy and I had been connected since infancy, for his father, Lucius, and mine worked exceptionally close together. However, as Mr. Malfoy grew he became reckless; he gambled a large portion of his father’s money away and took no responsibilities seriously. Soon thereafter, his father wrote him out of his will, leaving nothing to his son. Mr. Malfoy became desperate for an inheritance; my father later offered him a job which he begrudgingly took. However, not more than seven months of work, he confessed a most passionate love to my sister. It did not take long for us to realize that he was only after her fortune for she was to inherit seven thousand pound a year. She was thirteen at the time and utterly heartbroken.

When my sister had gotten sick mere months later, my mother and I moved to London alongside her to get the best medical help. Unable to access our money without my father present, Mr. Lucius graciously lent us the sum of the bills. Unfortunately, my sister passed with just two months of treatment; she was truly a remarkable young woman. After the mourning, we paid what was due back to the Malfoy family; but for Mr. Draco Malfoy it was not enough. He hounded me for more money; knowing his dispositions I had given him the sum of his ask in hopes that he would become something of himself. He gambled the money away in two weeks. After that, I refused to give him anymore money, cutting him off for good.

Miss Y/N, I am terribly sorry to force the burden of the truth onto you, but I just felt that you ought to know. Please do keep the affairs containing my sister private, as I believe it be a disgrace to her memory to attach her name to one like his. Thank you for the time we have shared.

Yours, Mr. Cedric Diggory

(author’s note: oh my goodness! end of part 4!!! ending on a bit of a cliff hanger... i can't wait for you all to read the final chapter, which will be out soon! as always, let me know if you’d like to be part of this tag list! thank you as always for reading!)

tag list: @freddieweasleyswife @truly-insatiable @annasdani @mullthingsoverinthehotwater

[mysticaltigersorceress]

Insubstantial

This is a piece I did for @nakunakunomi 's Trope Writing Challenge. Somehow, the prompt generator just smelled the angst on me, I nearly died laughing when I got the prompt xD.

The trope was: Confessing your love to someone unconscious/in a coma, only for them to wake up.

Random Word I had to include: arrangement.

Hope you enjoy, and #sorrynotsorry. I at least decided to end happily.

Length: 1.9k

Warnings: reader gets injured (not described in detail, but blood mentioned), angst

Summary:

Ao3: over here uwu

Usopp would be the first to (quietly) admit that he was a scaredy-cat. Did it ever hurt to err on the side of caution when living such a dangerous life? (He would argue that no, no it did not.)

But when it came to you, there were so, so many things that scared him. Not that you were scary, you were just– Oh gosh, everything you did set free kaleidoscopes of butterflies in his stomach; a simple smile meant just for him was enough to stop and restart his heart faster than any battle or foe ever had.

He wanted to tell you so badly that he lo– lov– liked you, very much. Usopp had rehearsed hundreds of scenarios in his head where he told you how he felt. Of course, he had also envisioned what your response may be. Some days, he imagined telling you poetry he wrote for you and you would swoon over his words, showering him in adoration and begging him not to stop. Other days, he imagined you laughing at his silly serenades but accepting them anyway, perhaps even making up a ditty of your own for him.

Oh, who was he kidding? At the end of the day, you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, not in that way. He didn’t want you to hate him for trying to force something that wasn’t meant to be. Your relationship was fine as it was right now, wasn’t it?

Usopp would crack jokes he just knew would make you laugh (and nearly got strangled several times by the crew for some of his pranks), and you would tease him and make references to inside jokes with him. He would save your favorite snacks for when you would help him tend to his pop-green garden, and you would steal his hat while you worked in the sun. Usopp even strayed further into battlefields than he normally would like, just to make sure you always had backup. And even then, you would always watch out for him to make sure no one got too close to him, saying “a sniper always worked best with distance, right?” The unspoken arrangement he had worked out in regards to how your relationship worked was something Usopp decided he could live with. Perhaps it was not perfectly ideal, but good friends would just have to be good enough.

Until it suddenly wasn’t good enough.

Until suddenly, you were crumpled on Sunny’s deck, life slowly seeping out of you, hit by an unexpected attack.

An attack you had shoved Usopp out of the way of.

It wasn’t enough as he scrambled across the deck to you, whilst the Strawhat Pirates rained justice upon those who dared harm their nakama.

It wasn’t anywhere near enough as he screamed for Chopper, clutching you desperately in his arms, trying to get some form of consciousness to register in your expression. Pressing his hand then shirt to the wound, anything to try to staunch the bleeding.

Everything he previously thought was enough for him felt wimpy and hollow as you lay limp in the infirmary, breathing ever so shallowly. Chopper had to eventually kick Usopp out for repeatedly panicking, thinking your breathing had stopped.

The words and feeling that he normally tucked away in the back of his mind now screamed relentlessly at him as he collapsed outside the infirmary with the rest of the crew, waiting for word of your condition. He nearly totally cried when Chopper said you were stable for now.

Day after day was spent by your side, coming up with a million reasons to stay with you whenever possible, a million excuses more as to why he always had to be there. All of the reasons were technically true, however, he never said his biggest reason of all.

That he lo-

lov-

Of– of course he was worried about his nakama, you had saved his life! He wanted to be there when you woke up, to thank you (and perhaps to smack you upside the head for doing something so foolish). To ask you why you would let yourself get hurt for him, when you had so many strong nakama around you. If you, perhaps– no. You were his nakama after all. That's all it was. Concern for a fellow crewmate. Nothing more.

He'd tinker by your bedside, quietly narrating his actions (and occasionally making up your responses as well.) He could almost picture exactly how the exchange would go when you woke up. You would open your eyes, groggy but feeling considerably better. You'd see him there and ask him if you had your favorite snack in his bag (which he totally did) and cheekily ask if he’d been worrying this whole time about you (which he totally had been). Usopp didn't like to think he was that predictable, but maybe you two just knew each other that well.

So when he walked into the galley to hear the words, “They may or may not wake up”, he was filled with a fear and a fury he had not felt so strongly since he was told they had to continue on their journey without Merry.

“What do you mean they may not wake up?” Usopp growled, clenching his fists in a feeble attempt to keep his hands from shaking. Chopper jumped guiltily at Usopp's question, and he could feel the eyes of the crew turn to him.

“They’re in a coma, Usopp. They could wake up in a few days. Or it could be weeks, months, years.” Chopper spoke reluctantly. “We have to be ready in case they never–”

“DON’T SAY IT!”

Choppers face creased worryingly. “We don’t want it to happen, but–”

“BUT WHAT? You’re just going to give up on your nakama!?” Tears were forming in the little deer’s eyes as Usopp yelled.

“Usopp.” Usopp froze as his friend and captain called his name. No other words had to be spoken. Usopp opened his mouth, but his throat was tight. None of the words felt right. There were too many of them. They were too harsh. Too painful. Too little for everything he needed to express. So he ran out.

He walked into his little tinkering space only to walk straight back out again. He was quite sure attempting to work on any project would simply leave him more frustrated than he already was. He tried to water his Pop-Greens, but the garden was so empty without you there. Before he knew it, his feet had carried him back to the infirmary. He sighed as he let himself in, head hung low; you would probably be upset at him for yelling at Chopper like that. It wasn’t Chopper’s fault you were in a coma. He needed to go apologize to Chopper, to everyone.

“Usopp.” Usopp startled at Franky’s voice, not having noticed the cyborg when he entered. The heavy weight of Franky’s hand settled on Usopp's head before he could try to escape or squeak out an apology. “They’ll wake up when they’re ready. And we’ll be right here waiting for them.” He then ruffled his hair and walked out, shutting the door softly behind him.

Usopp dug his nails into his palms until they stung, furiously straining to hold back the emotion slipping through every crack. His cheeks were soon soaked and he tasted blood from biting his lip in his attempt to stay quiet. A soft sound caught his attention and his head whipped in your direction.

You were still laying exactly as you were before, quietly breathing. Something about seeing you calmed him, despite all the bandages and IV’s. He was able to let all the racing thoughts drift to the back of his mind, and sunk exhaustedly into the chair beside your bed.

A single hand rested atop your sheets, and he found himself taking your hand into his. Your hand was so limp. It was so easy to imagine you were– no! You would wake up, and when you did, oh no, what if you lost your memory, or what if you couldn’t make a full recovery? Or–

“No! Damn it!” Usopp cursed. He wasn’t going to imagine the worst. For once in his god-damned life he was going to be positive! He was positive you would recover! He was positive you would smile again! You would remember him, you would remember the crew! You would get back to perfect health, and you would live out your dreams! You would... be happy to see him.

Usopp rubbed his thumbs against the back of your hand. There was still a little scar there from when one of his plants nipped you, back when he first planted his Pop-Greens, when the crew reunited in Sabaody after two years apart. The quiet moment you both had in the Sunny’s garden was something he held onto dearly and thought about frequently. You had listened so closely as he told you about his new plants and time in the Boin Archipelago. A certain flower caught your eye, and before he could warn you, it bit your hand. Of course, it had to be one of the poisonous ones, and just as Heracles’n had taught him, he sucked the poison out of the wound and spat it to the deck then wrapped it with bandage. For a fraction of a second, there was something he couldn’t quite identify in your eyes, but then he told you that you should have Chopper look at it just in case. As you walked away, something in him screamed to tell you how he felt, but just as usual, he let you walk away. He let himself act cowardly, despite all his declarations otherwise.

And now, more than ever, he regretted the words he frequently swallowed. And, maybe, just once, since you were asleep, he could say them. It would be good practice, to see if they fit right in his mouth. If they fit right, being said to you.

“Y/n… Please, wake up. We miss you… We need you.. I– I need you,” He gazed softly at your face, before lowering his head and holding your hand to his forehead. “I know I’m a damn coward, but please wake up so I can tell you at least once to your face, whatever you may think. I– I–”

Usopp cursed himself for stumbling over these words. Why was this so difficult?

“You’re– you're everything to me. You’re my friend. You’re my sunshine. You’re confusing and addicting and I always want to be with you, and I want to make you as happy as you make me. I just– I– I love you.” Usopp finally whispered. “And it’s a stupid dream, but I hope you love me too.” Tears flowed freely down his cheeks again, and he squeezed your hand tightly.

And something flicked his nose.

Usopp jerked up in shock to see you wearily smiling at him.

“Aww, you missed me?” You croaked. Usopp began openly sobbing and yelling incoherently. Softly chuckling, you weakly tugged him closer and moved the hand he held to his cheek and brushed it lightly. “I’m sorry I made you worry.” You then pulled him toward you and hugged him as best you could, and (after getting over his shock,) he wrapped his arms around you as well, holding as tightly as he could without causing you pain.

You found your eyes welling up from the emotion in his declaration, and tightened your hold on him. “I suppose I'm a coward for not telling you before, but I love you too, Usopp.”

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

ooh ask day! are you working on any of your own writing at the moment? what excites you about it? is your writing similar to your prompts in any way? or do the prompts fulfill something else for you?

mainly im working on getting my first novel published, which you can read about HERE. otherwise, the sequel, an adult fiction project, and an urban fantasy type YA about a town called florida. in florida. Florida, florida.

Florida project, working title BORDERLINE, is the most in line with my general prompt vibe here. a little cosmic horror, bent reality, just generally odd.

I never write stuff based off the prompts, but I DO write prompts based off my own stuff, very occasionally. for me, writing prompts is like scales for a musician. keeps my brain well oiled.

*still taking asks, no requests please*

anyway, ive been working on Florida project a lot lately. have an excerpt:

Backpage:

Lin O’Leary was born and raised in the town of Florida, Florida, tucked away into a corner of the state’s forgotten coast. All the locals know Florida is a strange place, rumored to stand on a borderline, where the veil is thin and mysterious forces wander alongside the human population. The daughter of Irish and Mexican immigrants, Lin knows you can only find trouble if you go looking for it, and like the rest of Florida’s residents, lives comfortably alongside the supernatural. This is before Momoko Kasahara disappears into thin air, frightening the town of Florida into a new, ultra-cautious existence. Five years after Momo’s disappearance, Lin is seventeen, a highschool dropout now working at a convenience store, her once vibrant town still plagued by fear. The days drag by, mundane as they come in Florida, occasionally punctuated by unpleasant visits from Bo Kasahara, brother to Momo and full time asshole. Then, one fateful late shift, Lin sees the missing Kasahara twin standing in the aisles, gone as quickly as she appeared. Meanwhile, a stranger arrives from California, claiming to be a paranormal investigator hellbent on uncovering the mysteries of Florida, and suddenly Lin is faced with a choice. Be smart and keep her head down, or dive headlong into the strange mist that so often covers Florida, to rescue Momo Kasahara, and return her town to the way she remembers it.

1. 100% humidity feels like breathing underwater.

L I N

Florida ate Momoko Kasahara on the most miserable day of the year, and washed her down with a thunderstorm. A lot of other important things happened that day, but Momo’s disappearance overshadowed them all. Momo was the coolest girl in our class. She had shiny black hair that ran down to her waist. She liked to wear a different flavor of lip gloss every day of the week, and could sing in Japanese. I was on my way home from the beach when I saw the police cars in her driveway, and her twin brother sitting on the porch, painted purple in the twilight. 

He shook his head, at me, slow, and all the sound seemed to drain out of the world. The flashing police lights distorted his face, as bright white clouds passed too quickly above us. The whole scene drove a stake of wrongness hard into my chest. Sometimes even now, I dream about it. Bo and I watching each other. The dead silence. The purple light. The too white clouds. And Momo, eaten.  For the first time in my life, I was afraid of my own town. 

My name is Lin O’leary. I live in Florida, Florida, a nothing sort of place crammed into an extra forgotten corner of the state’s already forgotten coast. Some days I can forget about Momo, and everything that happened in the hours before she vanished. Heff says I’m good at keeping my eyes closed, even when they’re open. 

I really wish he were right. 

2. Cloudy with a chance of hotdogs (haunted).

J U L I E N

I was standing in front of the worst building I had ever seen. Slab grey and full of sharp edges, additions had been slapped onto every side until it resembled an impossible puzzle piece. The front windows were crowded with signs for cold beer and hot food, but the glass itself was opaque. It was a convenience store from hell, a collection of stationary parts so nonsensical I was worried it might grow a few new alcoves if I blinked. Above the door, an unintelligible sign in complicated neon cursive flashed electric blue. There was a neon clock too, flickering wildly, just striking twelve.

I must have walked halfway across town, and as far I could tell this was the only place that sold food at all, let alone past three in the morning. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to go inside. My stomach was a mess, and haunted convenience store hot dogs could only make it worse. I fished my phone out of my pocket, but the little service I had was, like the midnight clock above me, barely clinging to existence, my map application nothing more than a collection of beige squares. There was no one around. The sky was intensely dark, a pitch black blanket of clouds. Water hung thick in the air, the night time street so quiet I could almost hear beads of sweat sliding down my already slick face. No, there was nothing for it. I needed directions. 

The bell above the door made a strange, flat sound as I pressed inside. If the building was weird from the outside, that was nothing to its interior. The shelves, tall and numerous, had been arranged like maze walls. The overhead lights were blinding, stark white, and every other tile on the floor was mismatched. Some were squares of carpet. The only thing really visible from the entrance was the register, a fortress made of dark wood and surrounded by lottery advertisements. Behind the counter, a girl was reading something intently. As I got closer, I saw it was the back of a box of oatmeal.

“Hi,” I said, adjusting the duffel bag that had been crushing my left shoulder for an hour. 

The girl nodded, but didn’t look up. She had thin black hair, pin straight and chin length. Her skin was a warm, golden brown. Her shirt said something in miniscule writing, but my glasses were a little foggy, so I would have had to practically press my face to her chest to read it, which didn’t seem like a great first impression.

“Can you help me? I’m looking for the Fahrenheit Motel. I think it’s supposed to be around here.” 

Finally, she glanced at me. 

“It’s just around the corner. See the glasses store across the street? Go straight past that and make the second left, you’ll run right into it.” 

She pointed out the window, and I realized they were one way. 

“Who built this place?” I asked. 

She shrugged. 

“We’ve had a lot of owners. Everyone adds something new.”

There was something off about her. Like we were talking, but mentally she was still 

reading the box of oatmeal. 

“I’m Julien,” I said, sticking out a hand. She raised her eyebrows before taking it. 

“Lin,” she said, with another small nod. 

Her face was round, but her features were knife sharp. I wondered what she looked like angry. Maybe that was a really weird thing to think. 

Not wanting to ask for a second set of directions, I wandered around the store for thirty minutes before returning to the counter with a gallon of chocolate milk and a bag of seaweed flavored potato chips. 

“I can’t believe you have these. I didn’t think you could find them outside of California.”

Instead of replying, Lin held up the chocolate milk. 

“There’s no fridge in your room at the Fahrenheit. You know that right?”

“I was told on the phone… ” I started.

“There’s a fridge, but it’s in the lobby, communal. Kimmy’ll drink this.” She gave the milk a little shake before scanning it. “Just warning you.”

“Thanks,” I said, as she stuffed my things in a smiling shopping bag. 

I paused on my way out.

“Goodnight,” I said, “Or, good morning I guess.” 

Lin stared at me, then glanced at the box of oatmeal and back. 

“Morning,” she said, with a sigh.

***

I followed Lin’s directions, and wound up at last in front of a long, low building sporting a vacancies sign. Even in low light I could see about a hundred sad looking plastic flamingos had been stuck all over the lawn, the bushes, even the gravel path that led to the front door. I had to pick my way around them on approach. 

There was no one at the front desk. The reception area was lit only by the green blue light coming from an enormous fishtank that didn’t seem to have any fish in it. As I approached the counter, I noticed someone had left the key to my room out for me, next to a scrap of paper bearing the wifi password. I picked up the key, old and brass, then watched the fishtank for a second, before turning around and experiencing heart failure. 

A very old woman with wiry black hair was standing there in her nightgown, arms crossed and frowning at me. She didn’t apologize for nearly sending me to my grave. 

“I’m up. I can check you in properly,” she said, shuffling past me. “I’m Kimmy, but you can call me Miss Kimmy. You got ID?” 

I dug it out of my wallet while she opened a dusty guest book. 

“The reservation is for Julien True,” I said. 

Miss Kimmy glanced at the ID I had just handed her. 

“That’s not what this says.”

“I know. It’s a stage name,” I admitted, “everything else is correct.”

She raised an eyebrow to herself, but didn’t ask any more questions. 

“Now listen,” she said finally, shutting the guest book with a snap. “I’ll be honest, there’s not much to do around here. There’s a bus runs to the state forest during the day, and the beach isn’t going anywhere. If you’re hungry that’s too bad for the most part, unless you feel like walking down to Morton’s.”

“Is that the weird looking building? One way windows?”

“That’s the one. Midnight Morton’s, never closes. This late at night you’ve got Lin at the counter, nice girl.” 

I don’t know what I would have called Lin, but it probably wasn’t ‘nice girl’.

“Thanks,” I said, glancing around for the hallway that led to my room.

I bid Miss Kimmy goodnight and lugged my things to Room 7, at the very end of the dark hall. Inside was simple, but stunningly clean, which I had in no way expected. The bed had a sunken spot in the middle, and there were a lot of paintings of tropical fish on the walls. Home sweet home. I changed into pajamas, and took a huge swig of chocolate milk before glancing at my duffel, still full of equipment. 

It could wait. I was exhausted, sweaty, and more alone than I had ever been in my entire life. 

3. Welcome to my grocery store how may I assist you.

L I N

“I want to drop out of high school,” said Roach. 

We were sprawled out on separate tartan sofas, both angled towards the ancient television. It was after midnight, and the only light in the room was coming from the nature channel.

“No you don’t,” I said. “You’re not even in high school.”

Roach was a weird little girl. Eleven years old, she wore oversized thrift store t-shirts, and big chunky glasses, and cut her own hair. I loved her the most in this world.

“Yeah, but when I get there, I want to drop out. You did.”

I sighed. 

“You’re smarter than me. You have to finish school and work in a laboratory anywhere but here. Those are the rules.” 

Roach crossed and uncrossed her skinny legs without arguing. I knew she just wanted to hear me say she was smart. 

We continued to watch the nature channel in silence. A documentary on the arctic ocean was playing, which I found devastatingly boring, but Roach was clearly glued to. I could hear dad snoring upstairs, a pleasant sort of nightly white noise, and tuned out completely until Roach clapped an inch from my face. 

“Jeez,” I started, pushing her hands away.

“You were way out there. It’s freaky.”

I had been practicing my zone out since I was Roach’s age. On my best day, I could have an entire conversation without hearing one word the other person said. Call it a life skill.

“You’re doing it again!” said Roach. “Don’t you have work soon?” 

That snapped me out of it. I looked at my watch. 

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.” 

I rolled off the couch as Roach sat back down with a huff. The arctic documentary was ending, and she picked up the changer to scroll through a long list of similar recordings. Roach loved animals, all of them, even fish that ate your insides, and grubs, and parasitic worms. Especially parasitic worms. 

“Don’t stay up too late okay?” I said, tugging gently on her massive ponytail. Roach got dad’s curly, reddish brown hair. I got mom’s.

“Mmhm.”

I glanced in the hall mirror to see if there was any food on my shirt. Then I stepped into the mosquito ridden, muggy Florida night, and headed to my shift.

***

You might be thinking: where does a seventeen year old high school dropout work after midnight? And the thrilling answer is: the grocery store, sort of.

You might be thinking: what? 

But that’s Morton’s. 

The sliding doors opened smoothly for me upon arrival, which was always a good omen. I straightened the newsstand and went to look for Barry.

My manager, a small, Dominican man who loved to party, was in the produce section with a woman I assumed was his latest girlfriend. He was chucking the moldiest vegetables into an open trashcan.

“Our fresh produce is a travesty,” I said. “When was the last time someone bought an eggplant here?”

“I’m thinking of moving the veg,” said Barry, “they don’t like the energy in this corner.”

Barry was constantly moving things around the small labyrinth that was Morton’s. At least once a month he would take an hour long stroll from shelf to shelf, while I wrote down what was going where. I made a new map of the store for every big move.

“What are you guys up to tonight?” I asked, as Barry followed me to the register, bag of moldy vegetables in hand.

“Dancing,” said his date, with an endearing round of jazz hands, as Barry broke into a stationary samba while he gave me a list of stuff to work on. He treated me to his own enthusiastic jazz hands, and a few notes of a Juan Luis Guerra song as he samba’d in the direction of the door. As it swung shut behind them, I let the intense silence of Morton's wash over me. The fluorescent lights hummed gently. The food sat well behaved in slightly crooked rows. I turned my brain down to its lowest setting, and consulted my list.

...

[codylabs]

My Top 10 Ships

I’m not a very romantic sort of guy, I’m not real forgiving to departures from canon, I get easily annoyed at inconsistencies, and I don’t watch much television and movies, so in order for me to ship something, it has to be a GOOD ship. I default toward rejecting ships, so to impress ME, it must be built on logic, and evidence, it’s gotta be something I can suspend my disbelief far enough to accept. And it’s gotta have story behind it, something deep, some hefty emotional weight; if it doesn’t tickle this man’s cold reptilian heart with strong beats and excellent writing, it goes straight to the trash. I absoLUTELY will not stand for any of these weird little cute, pretty, pandering, trashy crack ships that everybody seems to be clumsily throwing characters into. Most ships are trash ships. They are not good ships.

You think your ship is good? You like your ship?

You ship it?

No you don’t.

Get out of here.

You will listen to me. I will tell you. Look at me. I’m the Captain now.

Here are the 10 good ships.

10. The Rocinante, The Expanse

A resoundingly excellent ship. Unlike most ships you see out there, this thing was actually designed with realistic space combat in mind. It’s got 6 computer-controlled gatling turrets covering every angle, it accelerates in whatever direction it’s pointing, its bridge is right in the center to put as much armor as possible between enemies and crew, overall a much better-designed vehicle than most everything you see about.

That being said, I didn’t have much connection to this ship. Its crew weren’t really interesting, the aesthetic was kinda bleak, and I basically stopped watching after the phazon showed up. And the Rocinante itself has pretty poor redundancy. Enemy bullets can literally just pass through it (as is realistic for a ship this size) so how about multiple main engines huh? Absolutely tragic oversight. And its interior looks too much like an Apple product. How are you supposed to work on it? Where are the wires and pipes??? The handholds?????

9. Ares IV M.A.V., The Martian

Almost more of a symbol than a ship. A symbol of freedom, of escape. A beautiful symbol. This is what Mark Watney spends the whole movie trying to reach, with an entire world backing him up, and an entire world trying to stop him. It’s the goal of the movie, and it just looks so beautiful when he finally reaches it and sees it sitting there in the middle of the desert, ass down, nose up; a tall, proud symbol. This ship has a special significance for me because the author of the original book really did his research on the scientific requirements and details of a Mars Ascent Vehicle, and it was actually inspired by the E.R.V. in another book, ‘A Case For Mars’, which I read when I was younger. “Makes its own methane-oxygen fuel on-site by using nuclear power to break down CO2 in the atmosphere and combining it with stored hydrogen, don’t you know.” I say as I adjust my spectacles and puff my pipe.

The M.A.V. in the movie does have a few issues, such as hallway and rooms running straight up through where the fuel tanks ought to be (instead of a lift/ladder on the exterior) and a rugged, industrial aesthetic that looks too heavy and cumbersome for a ship of its type. (And you’re seriously telling me he couldn’t have used the capsule’s RCS to literally bypass the movie’s entire climax? WHY NOT? The book never mentioned him having to drain the monopropellant!!!) But I’ll let that slide. Great movie.

8. Biggest Boy, The Greatship

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name. You know what, I think it’s actually just called the Greatship.)

So it’s a starship the size of Jupiter, empty, unmanned, perfectly mysterious, that comes gliding into the galaxy a couple million years into humanity’s future. Where did it come from? Who made it and how? Good questions. It’s powered by matter-antimatter annihilation reactions from within planet-sized internal tanks, and its engines use hydrogen and fusion exhaust as reaction mass, and its hull is made of hyperfiber, a super-strong fictional material with a 4-dimensional lattice structure, able to weather impacts by spreading them out over various dimensions where the impact occurred in a different place.

I hope that after the first few entries, you didn’t get the impression that I am somehow against futuristic, far-out, impossible technologies. Quite the opposite! I love me some hyperdrive and anti-gravity and A.I. and stuff. However! Ships must be well-designed for the technology available, and must take no creative liberties except those explicitly allowed by the difference in the setting. The laws of physics don’t disappear when the magic crystals come out, the magic crystals are merely a different tool to combat them. Engineering will always exist, should start with the tools and work outward, form follows function. Star Wars ships, for instance, are trash because they don’t mount their repulsorlift arrays consistently, they’re not aerodynamic, and their engines aren’t aligned around their center of masses.

So I like the Great Ship. Although the story is pretty far-fetched, and a lot of crazy, out-there scifi events transpire deep in the ship’s depths, the book always strictly kept its own rules in mind, and never broke those rules, no matter how outlandishly crazy things got. Thanks for comprehending something so incomprehensible, Robert Reed. You inspired me miles in my own work.

7. The Ghost, The Sea Wolf

The story may be fiction, but the Ghost was as real as ghosts can be.

Jack London did his research. No, not research, he LIVED this. The Ghost is a seal-hunting schooner much like one that he served aboard during his rollercoaster of a life, and he captured every detail of its operation, of its requirements, of its mechanics, and of the incredible toll it took on the people that lived such a life. The boat is made to feel as oppressive and claustrophobic as a prison, as if it were an extension of the monster that commanded it, directly in contrast to the expansive beauty of the sea around them. My goodness, what a beautiful book. What a moving, interesting, challenging book, with such a story! This book is one of the climaxes of fiction, and one of the inspirations for Shifting Sands, if I remember correctly. I would recommend this book to anybody. Beautiful.

6. Ferbnessa, Phineas and Ferb

Okay, so I hope we can all agree that Vanessa is nothing but bad news. But that being said, Ferb knows exactly the relationship he wants, and by golly, he goes for it. Most male characters would stutter or get nervous or lose confidence around their crush, especially if that crush is about a hundred miles out of their league or if they already had another boyfriend, but Ferb? No. Not my man Ferb. He’s slighly too much of a legend to fall for such childish pitfalls. He doesn’t posture, he doesn’t creep or flirt or try to sabotage the other men in her life, he doesn’t even speak a word, he just maintains his blank expression, cranks his own already-inhuman levels of confidence and competence up through the roof to borderline olympian levels, and continues being himself. These rare moments of Ferbly passion are some of the few open windows we get into the grandiose machinations of his mysterious mind, and he uses it to bring out the best in Vanessa as well. And in the future episode, set years down the line, wouldn’t you know it, they’re a pair.

All joking aside though, this whole ship is basically comedy. It’s a super small part of the show, it’s only in like 5 episodes, it’s a running gag, it’s hilarious. It’s great. And it fits right into the tone and the feel of the show, because P&F’s entire world really is a comedy about going for it and living your dreams. So this is just the best thing ever. It’s been about a decade since then, and I still burst out laughing at how much of a pristine picture of ideal masculinity Ferb is. Become like Ferb, boys, and you will become men.

Legendary.

Eat your heart out, Dipper.

3. Shunk, Voltron

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name)

Huge props to the voltron team for making a female alien character (even a romantic interest) with NO BOOBS. Do you have ANY idea how sick and tired I am of artists throwing a big ol’ pair of balonkadongs onto lobsters and snakes when almost everything in the real world besides folks and cows have either 0 or 8+ of them? Everything’s gotta be traditionally sexy and recognizably-feminine and GREAT now you just canonized all the porn! Disgusteg

but now look at Shay. She’s a rock person. She’s got silicon-based biology, she probably weighs 500 lbs and bleeds sand. She’s got enormous hands and weird knees and no nose and lumps everywhere, AND YET STILL the show plays all the tropes 100% straight with her being a fair young maiden and a sweet princess. And it works because Hunk is just this great guy who’s exactly as sweet and caring, and he’s not the most attractive of the Paladins either, so he probably lives his life looking past appearances. He doesn’t care that she’s an alien rock, he cares about her as a person, and she obviously worships him right back. Even though Shay is shown in season 1 and then never again until season 7, Hunk still avoids alternative romantic entanglements, citing ‘a rock I know’, and it just adds to his persona as this infinitely loyal teddy bear. I tip my hat to this, the single ship I know that’s 0% sexy and 100% wholesome.

And Hunk is the best Paladin. He’s just the greatest. I revere him. I salute him as he walks past. This man among men. Look at this guy. I don’t even care about any of the other ships in Voltron (I mean, the Castle of Lions is okay, but it’s outriggers are kinda spindly) but Hunk and Shay deserve each other.

4. Wendip, Gravity Falls

So Dipper’s 12/13, and Wendy’s 15. That’s a pretty giant age difference. Maybe you fans have fooled yourselves into thinking it’s not, but it is. She knows it. He knows it. His sister knows it. Your mom knows it. So halfway through the show, when he finally got around to confessing his feelings to her, she told him no. Sure they’re still friends, sure they like each other, and sure they have a lot of chemistry and they still have a movie night every Friday, but at the end of the day, he’s a smelly little midget who has to go back to California at the end of the Summer, and she’s a older girl with approximately zero romantic feelings for him. So the notion that it could work out is pretty obvious to everyone, and especially to him, pretty much hopeless. And he really did handle it all pretty poorly and immaturely too, he objectified her and stalked her and simped up a storm and sabotaged her boyfriend, so perhaps he deserved what he got. Perhaps it’s better this way.

And yet.

And yet Wendy never really got a happy ending in the show. And Dipper never got a conclusive romance either. So after everything, it’s easy to think about it how he thinks about it, by wondering how things could have been, if everything were just so slightly different, if she’d said yes or if they united again. She wishes she could be younger, he wishes he could be older. She’s more dominant, he’s more recessive. She has a lot of serious issues in her life, and could really seriously use a driven, heroic, intelligent friend to help her out, give her purpose, and steer her right. And Lord knows he could use somebody with street smarts and actual muscles to have his back now and again. They complement each other perfectly. They make up for each others’ weaknesses. They’re everything they ever wanted from another, and if you do the math, their children would be actual literal supersoldiers.

Or at least that’s the way a lot of people see it. There’s been immeasurable mountains of fanfiction and fanart from people who are just so sad that in a show full of happy endings and dreams coming true and old regrets being resolved and children growing up, that one ending would never be happy, one dream would never come to pass, one regret would stick with you forever, one child would never grow up. Maybe if you extrapolate out the story they’d end up together? Or maybe they’d find other, better partners? Maybe romance isn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things, and this is the best ending there could have been? Perhaps, perhaps not. But in any case, there’s a lot of very rich storytelling potential for the untold journey before them, and for the paths that could have been.

Stop drawing fetish art of Wendy, you insufferable heathen actual donkeys.

3. Kataang, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Now HERE’S a serious relationship. Not just a romantic ship, (though it is that,) not just some cutesy, funny thing or some ship-war fodder, (though it is cute and funny and did spawn a ship-war,) not just a matter of certainty and destiny, (though it is certain and was destined,) this is a real, TANGIBLE relationship, that these characters built together over a solid year of on-screen adventuring and fighting. They’ve helped each other through trauma, they’ve been there for each other in their darkest moments, they learned martial-arts together, they’ve fought back-to back against grown men, they’ve worked front-to-front sawing through steel girders, they’ve saved each other’s lives, he once ACTUALLY DIED and she brought him BACK. They end up respecting each other, and valuing each other in the intimate way that only true friends do.

And they’re shown working through all their imperfections and mistakes too. Aang sometimes oversteps boundaries and says stupid stuff because he’s a kid, and Katara sometimes scolds him and controls him because she’s motherly and orderly, they get jealous of each other, but none of those things drive them apart, and they deal with them, and they conquer them, and they keep a very legitimate and multi-faceted friendship going, and that’s the key to it all. The fact that this friendship becomes romance is just proof that it was a friendship of quality.

I think people tend to overlook or forget this ship because the last few episodes of the show found them in a pretty dark place, needing to deal with matters of life and death and justice in very different ways, and unlike all their other issues, we don’t really get to see them reconciling these differences before the story ends, which kind of leaves a sour taste between them. And Katara goes on a couple missions with Zuko around the same time, so now half of all people want Zutara, when in actuality, Zutara is a trash ship, which is a true science fact.

2. Serenity, Firefly

Only reason this ship isn’t #1 is because it isn’t constructed using a proper aerospace philosophy; it’s made of bulky machinery and steel beams and chunky plates, it looks more like an ocean vessel from the inside, and is WAY too big for its 6-12 person crew and light cargo capacity. Plus it doesn’t have any room for fuel and its got no wheels on its landing legs and no downward-facing windows and its reactor is just too dang SMOL and its engines are attached too flimsily. This all wouldn’t be too much of an issue if they were going for a far-future aesthetic, but if you’re trying to do something grounded and semi-contemporary, you need to lose some weight girl, I’m sorry.

But by gosh does it make up for it in heart. The entire inside of this ship was mapped out and made on set, with so many homely little decorations and touches to make every room feel like the person who inhabits it, sterile professional blue for the doc’s medbay, warm happy red for Kaylee’s engine room, all-serious-business-but-also-plastic-dinos for Wash’s cockpit... It hit me hard when this baby it crashed in the movie, and it felt almost real when River pretended to mind-meld with it. This ship has more soul in one buffer panel than most shows have in the entire cast, enough to make it seem like its own character, even in a show crowded with charming characters. I love this ship intimately, even if I would have built it differently.

1. Colonial Vessel 46.18′\, Gravity Falls

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name)

You didn’t think I’d leave out this one, did you? After all the fanfiction I’ve written? This is basically my ship at this point. Anyway, enough about me; the vessel beneath Crash Site Omega really is the quintessential alien ship; its perfectly cliche flying-saucer design taps into all the audience’s pre-existing fanciful notions and imaginings and disbelief-suspension, meanwhile its presentation isn’t cliche or fanciful in the slightest. 

There’s not much to say about it from a technical standpoint, besides personal musings: it would need anti-gravity to stay airborne without thrusters, it would need a FTL drive to cross the distances it did, its drones would need to be made of some kind of semi-liquid to move like they do... But these sort of out-of-the-box, never-before-seen, world-expanding brain-knocks are exactly what makes this ship special. It’s an alien ship, built with technology unknown to people, forged from materials that people don’t possess, and inhabited by beings we will never meet. For all we know, this ship could be perfectly sound from an engineering standpoint, and no engineer in the audience could claim to prove it otherwise, because unlike something like the T.A.R.D.I.S., they never try and fail to explain it away with science buzzwords or canonize its details or show off some fancy glowy reactor. This ancient husk is left as a yawning pit in reason, and that’s beautiful.

Moreover, this ship is an amazingly powerful narrative tool, and a mind-blowing surprise to drop in as a setpiece during the show’s final episodes. This ship embodies everything that made the show’s mysteries special: the evidence presented so early and so consistently, the creativity in creature design, action, and worldbuilding, the yawning depths of unknowable lore, and most of all the burning, unquenched desire to know more... The imprint this ship made in the cliffs over the town has been hanging over the characters’ heads the entire series, and its hull was below their feet from day one, so when they finally revealed it, and explored it, it felt invigorating. Rewarding. This ship, and the glorious feelings and thoughts it represents, have inspired to no end, and haven’t ended yet.

Honorable mentions:

Westley and Buttercup, The Princess Bride

Ooooh man I tell you what, it was really hard trimming this down to 10 for the list, and this one just barely didn’t make the cut, and that mainly because I have a sweet spot for animation and for warrior women, and this sweetness ain’t animated, and this damsel is as distressed as they get. And they don’t have a whole lot of chemistry? I don’t know how to measure that, but I feel like there was a lot of friendship stated that was never shown? Is it sacrilege to say that about True Love? I guess I’ve never exactly had True Love, so what do I know?

The entire plot centers around his devotion to her, and her love for him, and the lengths they go to for one another. He studies fencing and wrestling and wits and tactics for years on a pirate ship as he tried to return to her, and she refused the advances and the offers of an actual prince for as long as she could, even though she thought him dead, and was ready to kill herself when she knew him to be alive and not to be hers. And just such excellent action and characters and humor and story in the entire book surrounding it. Possibly an even better movie, somehow. Happy happy happy happy. They don’t make movies like this no more, why is that? Sad.

Endurance, Interstellar

Actually a pretty realistic design, all considering. They nailed the aesthetic, and the cinematography, and the feel.

It does lose points though, firstly because the shuttlecraft require a booster stage to make it into orbit when leaving Earth, but for the rest of the movie, whenever they’re landing on planets with similar gravity and atmosphere, they can just fly away like it’s no big deal, which is a big inconsistency, both with real life, and more importantly with itself. And how did an under-equipped and struggling space program put this thing in orbit in the first place, anyway? And why don’t their ships land on their asses like proper rockets? And why not tell the crew members the full plan before leaving? See, it’s little things like that, little inconsistencies made for the sake of fitting with story beats and simplifying it for the audience’s sake, that sours this ship for me. I don’t mind creative liberties, but actual plot holes? This thing has a few plot holes, and plot holes are absolutely yucky. So although most of this ship is very yummy, the yucky parts make it all yucky.

Yucky.

Plus its heavy cargo shuttles are about the least-aerodynamic things imaginable, and that’s also yucky, and there’s porcelain tiles in the stasis bay, like what?

Couldashouldawoulda been yummy.

The Hermes, The Martian

This ship. This friggin’ ship.

A beautiful ship. A well-conceived ship. A mathematically sound and engineered ship. It had so many many good ideas behind it. So much math went into calculating its thrust and orbital dynamics for this movie, so much work went into making it fit a contemporary space aesthetic, the panels, the heat sinks, the tanks, so much PRESENTATION I could KISS IT HMWA, but taken as a whole, engineering-wise, the whole ship falls flat on its face, because it just doesn’t fit together. It doesn’t make sense. Look at all those countless modules along its length. What do they do? They don’t do anything! It’s a quarter mile long, and it’s built for only 6 people? It’s meant to carry a lander? Where does the lander dock? Why are the useful airlocks so far off the center of gravity? Why does it have a cockpit? Why is the forward airlock so looooong? Why is the entire ship so loooooong? Why is the ring spinning so slowly? It’s not hard math to figure out how fast it needs to spin! You’re telling me you did ORBITAL DYNAMICS but not the SINGLE physics 101 equation needed to figure out how fast the ring needs to spin??

Btw, let’s talk about that rotating section in the middle! Think about the rotating section! That rotating section means that the front and the back of the ship aren’t actually connected! There’s just a pair of ring-shaped slip-slidey bearings bridging the ship’s middle, slip-slidey bearings that electricity, computer signals, and water and air pipes can’t cross. Why did they design it that way?? In the book the entire ship spun, which makes so much more sense! Why does it have solar panels when it has a reactor canonically capable of 40 times their output? Why are the fuel tanks so small? Why is it always facing prograde even when canonically burning retrograde? Why? WHY? BLRRRRGGGGGRGGGRGGG

In Conclusion, Ships Are Neat

[hiirunakaarchive]

– to act in haste (3)

↳ Facts could never be disputed, but natural and insensible phenomenons like fate were fickle and ever-changing. Ethan hoped that maybe the outcome of this god-awful situation he was in right now could be fickle and ever-changing too.

↳  (pt 1), (pt 2), (pt 4)

◇ pairing: ethan ramsey x mc (haruna sakurai)

◇ genre: like 99.9% angst, 0.1% comedy (?) i hope that part of the story was funny man idk

◇ word count: 4.6k+

◇ tags: @aworldoffandoms, @perriewinklenerdie, @jooous​, @senseofduties​, @moteestro​, @anything-but-reality​

◇ author’s note: hey friends, i hope yall are staying safe and indoors during these strange times! classes have been moved online, so i’ve been writing and lo and behold –– part three to my series (which i finished a lot sooner that i expected :o) ! i was honestly writing this thinking it’d be the finale but the 10k word count was telling me smth else, so a FOURTH part is gonna be posted and THAT is gonna be the last one! also not to toot my own horn but i really, honestly, TRULY believe this third part is the best ive ever written, and i hope you guys like it as much as i do! like always, feedback is super appreciated and i’d be more than happy to add anyone to the tags! happy reading!

–

Dr. Ramsey was almost never wrong.

Almost.

And he hung on to that almost with a vice-like grip, that one in a million possibility that maybe this time, he could be wrong, and God, he had never wanted to be wrong so badly. But anyone with half a brain could put two and two together and figure out why his spiteful ex-lover stood in his office long after her shift had ended; white coat folded neatly and hugged against her chest with a sealed envelope at hand. Yet, despite knowing fully well what that letter being slid across his desk meant, he dared to challenge the inevitable truth. To let himself hope—

I could be wrong.

He took it in his hands carefully, and tore the envelope open.

Let it be wrong. Let it be wrong, let it be wrong, let it be-

”You’re resigning.”

He read it slowly and steadily, gathering himself with one long breath and the last sliver of calm he could find.

Over the course of the year, Haruna Sakurai had become some sort of a celebrity in Boston’s exclusive world of health care professionals, dubbed the perfect model to emulate in all aspects of being a doctor. She was as kind as she was intelligent, but unflinching in her righteous principles and a terrifying force to be reckoned with.

She was Edenbrook’s most valuable asset, yet the letter of resignation laying open on Ethan’s desk seemed to taunt him in ways that delved beyond a professional context. He regarded it hollowly, absorbing the great loss her departure would serve to the hospital, but also let his mind pathetically wander to the thought of where her resignation would leave the both of them.

It was silly and stupid, because they weren’t even romantically involved anymore. That tranquil period where they sat across from each other in comfortable silence, danced in his kitchen until they realized breakfast was burned, talked and laughed until they couldn’t breathe – it was such a distant memory that Ethan was convinced that it was nothing but a dream. 

It didn’t matter because she was slipping from him anyway.

“Losing you would be quite a blow to the hospital, Dr. Sakurai. Is there anything that would make you reconsider?” He had to be impartial. 

Convince her to stay. For the hospital, not for yourself, you selfish prick. No more of this lovesick nonsense.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, and it was deplorable. The year Haruna spent on the fellowship had changed her. She stood taller, spoke louder, smiled wider, and Ethan convinced himself that losing her was a trivial price to pay for the success she so deserved. 

Haruna had grit her teeth and accepted his twisted gift, abandoning that whirlwind romance they had, and as compensation, acquired invaluable knowledge that no one could pry from her cold dead hands. She had so clearly moved on, thus, there was nothing left to do but for Ethan to make peace with it and follow suit. 

“I’m sorry, but my mind is set. It’s a...career move.”

Yet why did he still insist on making her stay?

“A career move? Dr. Sakurai, you do know that you’re employed at one of the best hospitals in the United States.” He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, and she rolled her eyes at his statement of the obvious.

“Of course I do, but our partnership with Panacea Labs has them trampling on every standard and principle that made Edenbrook one of the best in the first place.”

“I hate saying this as much as you hate hearing it, but that’s not something we can change.” Ethan sighed as he rubbed his temples. 

“I know, so I’m leaving before it disappoints me further.”

“Life in and of itself is a disappointment, Dr. Sakurai.” he argued. “We-“

“I’m going back to Japan.” She blurted.

Haruna bit her lip, bringing a hand to her face like it was a secret she meant to keep and just as suddenly as she said it, Ethan’s world stopped all at once. The clock that hung just above the entrance to his office stopped ticking. He saw Haruna’s lips moving as she continued to speak, but couldn’t hear a thing. Every joint in his body seemed to have froze and gone numb. Dead silence enveloped Dr. Ramsey to the deepest part of him that it could dig.

Dr. Sakurai’s confession rang in his ears like a siren, and Ethan wanted nothing more than to make it stop. The loss of what they had stung him to the point that he almost clutched at the imaginary ache of his chest, but despite that, he carried on. Seeing Haruna was never easy, but the dull sting at the sight of her served as a very real reminder that she wasn’t just a dream. That there once existed a period where Ethan loved a woman so much that he was no longer himself. She was real and tangible, and as long as she remained so, Ethan fooled himself into thinking he had a chance and the luxury of time in fixing what seemed to be irreparable.

You can’t fix this anymore. 

That cruel realization slapped him back to reality.

“-y parents are encouraging me to come home and work in their hospital. I’m hoping that it can offer me new and invaluable insight– Dr. Ramsey are you listening?”

Ethan lifted his gaze from the envelope on his desk and met her eyes. He stood from his office chair and planted his hands on the surface of the table, leaning forward.

“I’m listening. And what insight, pray tell, can the Sakurai Medical Centre give you that Edenbrook can’t?”

The tone of his voice adopted a subtle bitterness to which Haruna raised a brow. She uncrossed her arms, imitating Ethan’s pose and setting one hand parallel to his on top of his desk.

“It’s a new experience.” She responded impatiently, “A more challenging setting.”

“In the hospital that your parents own? How could that setting ever challenge you the same way we do here?” He continued to prod.

“In ways you couldn’t possibly hope to understand. Are we done here?”

“Not until you tell me the real reason why you’re resigning, Dr. Sakurai. You’ve made a name for yourself in this city, you’ve accomplished what thousands of doctors wished they could at your age. How could you leave that all behind?”

Here they were again, arguing, God, they were always arguing. Both of them were far too proud and far too stubborn to swallow their pride and back down. The only thing that seemed like a capable reminder to keep things civil was the mahogany desk that kept them mere inches apart. 

She placed a hand on her hip and leaned closer across the table.

“I think you’re taking things too personally, Dr. Ramsey.” Haruna accused.

She was close. Too close, and Ethan swallowed hard and realized he could never win against her.

He looked away, in denial. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Haruna scoffed.

“Really? Then look at me and tell me that I got this far so early into my career because of my own hard work. Tell me that every doctor in Boston would know my name even if you didn’t use your position to land me that spot on the diagnostics team even though I was in fourth place. Face it, Dr. Ramsey, you don’t want me to leave because it means that everything you did was for nothing.” She spat.

Ethan threw his hands up in aggravation. “Sakurai, this isn’t about me, god damn it! This is about you compromising a perfect career that–”

“You don’t know what it’s like!” She yelled, her voice resonating across the room. 

The sudden raise in volume took Ethan by surprise, and he bit back a response as Haruna scowled in an attempt to calm herself.

“You have no idea what it’s like...walking into that room everyday with doctors like you, June and Baz, and knowing that I’m not even supposed to be there. I come in here and see you and am just reminded that every bit of success I have now is because you loved me. Too damn much, if you ask me.” 

“You want to know the worst part of it all?” She laughed despite herself. “Acting like I didn’t enjoy every minute of that fellowship, when the truth is that I relished in it. I spent this entire year resenting you yet basking in all this knowledge and these opportunities that you gave me. Then I’d come in the next day and hate you a little less than I did the day before. One day, I woke up and realized that I probably never even hated you at all. If anything, I was...grateful.” She cringed as she said it, then looked at Ethan with contempt.

For the first time in a long time, it wasn’t directed at him, but at herself.

“Do you get it? I can’t keep working here, because the mere sight of you is proof that I’m just as greedy and self-serving as bastards like Declan Nash, and I’d sooner die than become a doctor so disgusting. If I can’t bring myself to hate you, then...” She trailed off and looked away, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

The revelation was all too much for Ethan to process, and his mind was riddled with questions. For over a year, he’d wake up in a cold sweat from nightmares of how she regarded him with immeasurable animosity. Was she trying to tell him that, that too, was a facade? A tense muscle in Dr. Ramsey’s jaw relaxed as he asked her quietly,

“Are you running from me, Haruna?”

“If I am?”

They looked at each other in a moment that seemed to end all too quickly, and the weight and meaning of what she said dawned on the both of them. Her eyes widened at the proclamation she mistakenly let slip and Dr. Sakurai snatched her letter of resignation from Ethan’s desk, starting towards the door.

“Never mind. Forget it.”

For a moment, he considered listening to her. To let her go like he’d always done. Every time they spoke, she always ended up leaving anyway. Ethan persuaded himself into believing that she was better off without him, but–

You are never going to have another chance after this.

And he realized, that the moment he let her leave that room, everything would really be over. He’d have to live with the regret of never having taken that final opportunity to mend what they’d both thought was unmendable, or at least try to. Would she have also wished that he’d tried to stop her?

“Wait...I said wait!”

Ethan bolted towards the exit, and Haruna froze in her tracks as he slammed the door back shut as she was about to leave. Her back was to him and his arm remained situated on the wooden surface, inches from her head.

“I need to know, Dr. Sakurai,” He breathed,

“Do I still mean something to you?”

Ethan heard her sharp intake of breath, taken aback by his sudden inquiry. Cautiously, Haruna turned to face him and that calm air of hers that always seemed so natural now looked like nothing but a brittle front to hold herself together.

“You do.” She admitted.

“I still love you, Dr. Ramsey. So much. I’ve loved you all this time but I-“

Her breathed hitched, and like a dam, she, and that distant and unbothered facade she was so adamant on maintaining, collapsed. Her cheeks were wet with tears and Ethan’s face fell as Haruna buried her face into her hands. He willed himself not to hold her.

She wouldn’t want you touching her. You don’t have the right. You don’t-

But against his better judgement he took her in his arms, and the solace he felt with the familiarity of this woman’s warmth, who seemed so small trapped against his chest, overwhelmed him with emotion. It had been so long since he last touched her, and both Ethan and Haruna knew that it may very well be the last. So he held her. He held her the way he wished he could have in the year that they didn’t speak. The way he should have held her from the start. And she let him.

He wasn’t sure if he could ever embrace anyone else the same way ever again.

“God, Ethan, where did we go wrong?” She sobbed.

He rested his chin gently on her head and didn’t respond, because he knew that nothing he could say in this predicament that they were in– no, that they’ve been in, would console her. Dr. Sakurai’s shoulders shook uncontrollably as she cried, and Ethan felt her go slack against him, holding her tighter as he lowered the both of them gently to the floor. 

***

She was in his arms for the next hour. Sixty minutes of pure silence, apart from her weeping, and Ethan could do nothing but comfort the woman. He looked up at the ceiling as Haruna sniffled, and couldn’t remember the last time she had let herself be so vulnerable in front of him.

“We can’t be together like this.” She finally spoke, her voice raspy from the crying.

“I-” Dr. Ramsey began, ready to argue. He knew better though, and sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall. “I know.”

“Good. So you know that you have to let me leave, then.”

He stayed silent in an attempt to avoid the question. Of course he knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. If he did, he’d be acknowledging that this was for the best; and more often than not, the right decision wasn’t always the easiest.

“Haruna, I...” He started in protest, but paused as he felt Dr. Sakurai’s hand slide up to rest on his cheek.

He looked down at her, and wondered if he was being too transparent. If she could see how broken he was at realizing the choice they both had to make. She sat up a little straighter, still in Ethan’s arms and rested her forehead against his. Then she asked him quietly. Pleadingly.

“Please, Ethan.”

How could he ever say no to her?

So he responded wordlessly, tilting his head and bringing his lips to hers. Haruna met him halfway, and a year and a half of fierce self-restraint and inexplicable pining for the feel of each other erupted all at once. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer by the nape of his neck. Ethan cupped her face in his hands as he kissed her, softly at first, but every second that passed with her mouth on his summoned a tide of longing that he forced himself to keep latent all this time, and it only urged him to kiss her harder.

“I love you.” He groaned against her mouth. “God, I love you.”

She merely smiled at his reckless confession, holding him by the lapels of his coat until, Ethan, breathless, forced himself to pull away. He brought a finger below her chin and tilted her head up to look at him. Her eyes were red and swollen from the crying and her hair was disheveled from the moment of passion they just shared, but Ethan couldn’t recall ever being in love with her more than he was in that moment. 

“Haruna, marry me.” 

Her eyes widened in surprise. She looked like she was going to say something in protest, but Ethan continued in order to validate his outrageous request.

“Not now.” He interjected. “You’re going to go to Japan, and become the best damn doctor they’ve ever seen. Your success will be your own, and no one will ever remember that you were ‘The’ Ethan Ramsey’s protege in the first place because you’ll become someone a hundred times better.” 

Dr. Ramsey pushed himself off the floor, and pulled Haruna up following that. Her eyes had begun to shine with tears again, dangerously close to falling, and Ethan held her face in his hands. He offered her a comforting smile, but he wasn’t certain if it was meant to reassure her, or to hide his own brokenness.

“Then, if these god damn stars ever choose to align for us and we see each other again, however long that might take, we’ll get married. Is that clear, Rookie?”

She laughed through the tears.

“Crystal, Dr. Ramsey.”

–– 

Dr. Haruna Sakurai departed for Japan the following week. No one knew of her resignation except for the diagnostics team, Naveen, and her closest friends from intern year, so Ethan remained unbothered at the gossip that rang through the hospital when one day, she had stopped coming to work and no one knew why. 

After that evening where he vociferated that almost childish marriage pact, Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Sakurai failed to have another chance to speak. He was busy with his own doctorly duties and Sakurai was preoccupied with tying up any loose ends before she left for good. They’d merely pass by each other in the halls and their interactions alternated between a subtle smile, a curt nod, or a discreet brush of the fingers.

When Haruna accepted his poor excuse of a proposal, Ethan thought he’d convinced himself that it was going to be alright. That things would turn out fine because they parted on good terms and with the knowledge that they’d made the right choice.

So he had to pretend, and to an extent he never did before.  

Pretend like he wasn’t heartbroken at the fact that she didn’t say goodbye. 

Pretend like he wasn’t just as surprised as everyone else when he came to work and didn’t hear the sound of her voice by the nurses’ station like he would everyday.

The feigning of indifference had embedded itself so deeply into his routine that Ethan believed it was real. He readopted his strictly objective nature, like how he used to be before he met her, and just like that, his world went numb and grey.  

“I’m worried for you, Ethan.” Naveen sighed as he sat across Ethan’s desk, genuine concern written all over his face.

Dr. Ramsey didn’t bother looking up as he flipped through applications for the year’s new batch of interns. “We have hundreds of patients to treat and a budget cut that still needs to be solved. I’m not who you should be worried about, Naveen.” He replied dryly.

“My shift ended twenty minutes ago, my boy,” Dr. Banerji chuckled. 

“I’m not here as administration, I’m here as your friend. Now tell me, why are you acting this way?”

"Acting what way?” Ethan quipped, setting down a folder to give his mentor his full attention. “I’m not any different from the last twelve years we’ve been working together.”

“Completely and wholly devoted to your job, I know. But in the past twelve years I’ve known you, you’ve never been so...” Naveen rested his elbow on the armrest of his chair as he pondered for the right word. “Anesthetized?”

Banerji eyed Ethan carefully, almost strictly. 

“You’ve always been a workaholic, Ethan, but never to the point that you neglected your own health. You’re a walking contradiction as a doctor.”

Ethan knew he was right. If there was anybody in the world that he could never win against in an argument, it was his mentor and his mentee. The three of them were an elite trifecta with a unique bond equipped with boundless knowledge, and Ethan swallowed hard as he remembered her for the first time in the four months since she left. 

After coming to terms with her resignation, Ethan thought that their parting satisfied him enough to live on happily and assured of their love for each other. But the following week of being deprived of her presence and being reminded he might never see her again made Dr. Ramsey realize that it was stupidly naive of him to think so. This was nothing like the two months he spent in the Amazon, because he didn’t have that certainty of her greeting him when he inevitably came back. He was unsure of whether the stars really would align for them like he suggested, but certain that he’d never love anyone the same way he loved her. 

He drowned himself in work and almost stopped coming home. The bags beneath his eyes had grown so much more prominent, and four months of this self-negligent lifestyle had aged him more than twelve years of working as a doctor of internal medicine ever could. Of course Banerji had been the first one to notice.

“She’s there everywhere I go, Naveen.” Ethan confessed, unable to keep it to himself any longer.  

“Can’t even leave this damn office and grab a coffee anymore. I ordered my usual roast at Derry’s, and you know what happened? The barista snuck me a free espresso Romano! Told me, ‘for the other pretty doctor,’ and I almost lost it.”

Dr. Banerji stared in disappointment at his own pupil’s oblivion. He had given him too many invaluable lessons to count, but the one thing he never succeeded in helping Ethan understand was the importance of subjectivity. That sometimes even the most logical and calculated decisions were no match against the fickle loyalties of the heart. 

“Answer me honestly, Ethan,” Naveen dropped all hints of playfulness. 

“Do you regret letting her leave?”

–– FIVE YEARS LATER

“Do you regret letting her leave?”

When Naveen asked that question, the answer popped into Ethan’s mind shamefully quick. Accompanied with that epiphany, his world, the one that went numb and grey, began to scream altogether. The imaginary pain that once pricked him frivolously like pins and needles hit him all at once and burst into flames. Shallow incisions made to his heart with every thought of her and what could have been, transitioned into relentless, deep cuts that came at a pace faster than he could heal. 

Over the course of five years, Ethan stopped trying to fight it and left his heart to be mangled by the regret.

“Yes, I regret it.” 

Today marked his seventeenth year of working at Edenbrook, and Dr. Ramsey had lost count of how many batches of interns had come and gone. He still thought about her occasionally, when he’d see her friends in the hospital or at midnight in bed and alone with his thoughts; but time had done a fairly adequate job of healing that wound. Five years in retrospect didn’t seem that long, but it was enough for Dr. Haruna Sakurai’s face to blur and drown into the deepest recesses of Ethan’s mind. 

“He’s so freaking fine, but I swear he doesn’t have eyes.”

Making his rounds, Ethan’s brows furrowed irritably at the interns he caught gossiping in the hall. He tucked his clipboard under his arm, more than ready to reprimand them until a calloused hand caught him by the shoulder.

“Shhh. I want to know what they’re saying about you.” Ethan turned his head just enough to see that it was Dr. Lahela.

He never expected to grow close with one of her brother-like figures, but him and the surgeon spent too much time together at the gym, and Ethan grew fond of the younger doctor more than he cared to admit.

“You know Dr. Tremaine? The pretty one with a sixteen thousand follower count on Instagram? She asked him to dinner and he just walked past her like he didn’t hear anything.”

“You did not turn down Dr. Tremaine.” Bryce covered his mouth with a hand, feigning shock and Ethan retorted almost immediately with his own dry humour. 

“I think you forget sometimes that the thought of your best friend still torments me.”

“Right. Sorry.”

They turned back towards the young doctors, so deep into their conversation that the two didn’t even bother hiding anymore. Ethan leaned against the wall patiently as Bryce cleaned his stethoscope with an alcohol wipe he dug out from his pocket.

“Dr. Castillo’s brother did his residency here too, and rumour has it that Dr. Ramsey actually had a fling with an intern from his batch a couple years back.”

“Shut up. She must’ve been so hot if she could make Dr. Ramsey budge.”

Ethan leaned over to Bryce, unsure of why he was even following his request of keeping silent.

“My ears are bleeding, Lahela.” He aggressively muttered under his breath.

“Wait, they’re getting to the good part. You know how I love hearing Haruna’s praises sung– wait, Dr. Ramsey!” The surgeon’s voice faded as Ethan ignored his plea, beginning his march towards the rumourmongering interns. 

“–Super hot, super smart, and super scary. Apparently she punched Declan Nash in the face once.”

“Shut up! Who is she?”

“You know the one from the last issue of Times? Like, total medical prodigy? Asia’s top doctor who-”

“–Turned her parents hospital into Japan’s top research facility, I know the whole deal. What about her?”

“So, like, she used to work at Edenbrook right? Apparently-”

“You two, interns!” Ethan barked down the hall.

“Dr. Ramsey!” And his terrifying approach was drowned out by Harper Emery’s own voice and the loud clicking of her heels as she rounded the corner.

Complete, utter fear settled into the young doctors’ eyes as they realized that they were in the company of Edenbrook’s most skilled and accomplished staff, one of whom they were gossiping about. Their gaze darted between a cool and collected Harper, and Ethan, who was very visibly seething, and found they could look nowhere else but the floor. 

Harper and Ethan rekindled their friendship following Aurora’s transfer to Mass Kenmore. Harper realized that she wanted the fellowship more for Aurora than she did for herself, and thanks to the younger Emery distancing herself from Edenbrook and her aunt’s legacy, the women were closer now than they’ve ever been before.

“We need to talk.” Harper demanded, despite being aware of the tension.

“It might have to wait, Dr. Emery, I’m in the middle of something important.”

Harper stepped towards him and spoke in a voice low enough that only Ethan could hear, her tone demanding his full attention.

“Dr. Ramsey.” Harper repeated, more firmly this time.

Ethan sensed the urgency in her voice, and looked between his friend and the interns. Exhaling once, he shot them one more infuriated look before turning back the way he came and following his colleague. Ethan eyed Dr. Lahela expectantly as him and Harper strolled past.

“You're up, scalpel jockey.” And Bryce smiled excitedly, closing his eyes and getting into character before storming down the hall.

“Coffee must be one hell of a drug if I’m seeing not one, but two interns chatting ‘til kingdom come while they’re still on the damn clock! Both of you, names!”

Harper failed at containing a smile. “You’re a horrible influence, Ethan.”

He shook his head, repressing his own laughter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That pupil of yours wouldn’t leave me alone until I showed him the ropes of...what did he call it, ah– oral persecution. So what was it that you wanted to tell me?” 

“You and Dr. Hirata will be in attendance for a medical conference in Kyoto as Edenbrook’s representatives.”

He nodded in response, continuing to look straight ahead as they walked. “Hmph, like always.”

“And Dr. Sakurai will be present as the keynote speaker.”

[missjackil]

My 15x04 Opinion

Atomic Monsters

This one was surprisingly good! I thought it would be a light, brothers only, MOTW, but it was actually pretty heavy wouldn't you say? It managed to be a brothers only MOTW while also moving the myth along. Jensen did a great job on his last SPN Directing gig, and yet again, Jared nailed us to the wall with the emotions. So without further ado, let’s have a look.

Sam’s vision/nightmare was really intense! it seems bearded Dean broke into the bunker with warrior buddies to find Evil!Sam and shot his way through Sam’s pet demons. We get a cameo by Benny, which was a surprise and it makes me wonder why Sam would dream about him? 

Now we get super creepy but hot af evil!Sam... good lord! Poor Dean, painfully pleading with him to stop. This is Sam dreaming that Dean is still loyal and won't give up on Sam even after he’s killed Bobby, Jody, and now Benny. But sexy evil!Sam doesn't care... he’s snapping Dean’s neck too! Damn son! No wonder Sam woke up freaked the hell out. 

Now the brothers meet in the kitchen for morning bro time. We get a very funny discussion about the bacon and “meat man” before it quickly descends into Sam being deeply depressed and Dean being beyond worried. I live for these moments when Sam wears his emotions on his sleeve and Dean is struggling to try to think of ways to make it better. [let's see if he’ll eat something, maybe I can get him to talk, maybe he wants to go out on a hunt alone with me, maybe I'll play a little prank on him]  these moments are why I love this show!

Moving along to the story, it just seemed to be something going on in the background while quietly deals with his pain. It manifests a few times in little spurts of sarcasm. “The end of the world, is the end of the world” “Someone is dead and you’re worried about a football game?” Sam is just full up on people’s petty bullshit. 

Meanwhile. we have a very interesting meeting with Chuck and Becky of all people! I had a momentary cringe when I saw her on “THEN” but I was very happy with that story. Im glad she got her shit together an acknowledged what she did to Sam was terrible. She looks great, and I got a huge kick out of her SPN memorabilia! I am in love with the fact the show is this self-aware sometimes. 

The show digs at itself and its writing a little bit, as Becky complains about Chuck’s writing. “The boys are tied up again so the bad guys can monologue again..”  Yes fans, we know these things annoy you. And even some respect is shown to us fanfic writers “Writing is writing” 

Then Chuck goes level 75 shithead! You want high stakes and drama? Wait till you all see what Im going to do to these boys now! And then he goes and vaporizes Becky and her family. Dont worry, they’re not dead, they're just “away” mmmhmmm.

Back with the boys, Sam and Dean end up taking this teen vamp out to the woods to put him down. That was so sucky. So dark and you could see Sam felt it. Not only because even still, with Chuck “gone” they're still doing the ugly work, and maybe even feeling a little like a monster himself, having gotten a brain full of a reminder of the demon blood and how evil he could be. 

The car ride home hurt me to the pit of my soul. I want to know how its possible that these guys can actually make me feel bad that I want them to just keep going. We have Dean here “We owe it to everyone who ever gave a damn about us to just keep going.... for them” and I'm like PREACH!!! But then Sam confesses that he doesnt feel free. That burden is still there, he still thinks about Jessica, 15 years after the fact he still carries that weight and all the weight of everything that’s happened after and he can’t breathe, then I feel guilty like Im at fault for that. (get a grip Jacki, it is still fiction) and I died a little inside.

Overall this was a very good episode. It ticked some very important boxes for what I like best. Ive already rewatched it, and probably will again later. 

On a scale of Bloodlines to Lebanon, I give this one a 8.5.  I have no idea what the title had to do with the episode, but otherwise, it was very well done!

[fearsbellsarchived]

[me? Thinking about a gf fairytales au instead of being productive? More likely than u think!!! think ou.at buT BETTER and w/o the real world dimension hopping part. under the cut bc i just copy/pasted my tags from forever ago to put them in one place

mabel and dipper are hansel and gretal

paz is sleeping beauty 

bill is maleficient 

if we’re gonna get disney about it wendy as merida 

i LOVE the idea of tambry as rapunzel??? 

mabel can also be like...eric from the little mermaid 

so mermando can be ariel 

gIDEON AS URSULA/VANESSA IN THAT VEIN THO 

bill is also rumplestilskin 

stan can be the huntsman (idk from which story cause theres a fEW BUT)

ford is the sorcerer from fanstasia 

ford is teaching dipper magic....and instead of a true love’s kiss that’s how he wakes paz (maybe?)

the northwests made a deal w bill like in the most famous version of rumplestilskin but instead of wanting paz for himself he just wanted to steal her body at 16

so when they lose the deal they ask for help from ford and ford’s like “yo i can maybe change the deal??? a little bit???” so instead of bill taking her over when he goes to she falls asleep ​

so dipper wasnt supposed to wake her up but he found her and fords notes and he and mabel went on an adventure

bill is all the villains 

billains 

so stan has to leave mabel and dipper in the woods (idk y it wasnt for long the twins are just impatient) so stan disappears and the twins are like “lETS EXPLORE THE WOODS”

they come across some creepy old house w a lot of spiderwebs (can u guess the villain yet?)

an older woman comes out and is like “why are you guys lost in the forest?”

mabel points to the glitter trail “we’re not lost”

dipper looks behind them ‘mabel!!! where’s all the glitter?!”

(ACTUALLY MAYBE ITS YARN???) 

so they lose the trail 

meanwhile stan is losing his fucking mind

he follows the stray glitter but it’s blown all over

he feels “LOST IN THE WOOOOODDDS!!!”

so the old lady offers for them to stay the night bc its getting late

dipper is SUPER sus but he plays it cool surprisingly

mabel is So In!

long short...stan eventually saves them from darlene’s trap

usually shes just a maneater but look

when u live in the woods u do what u can

so stan hauls them back to their cottage

dipper knew there was weird shit out there but he wants MORE

he starts going through his great-uncle’s journals (*cue the dipper squee*)

he reads about bill and his deal w paz’s parents

he’s like....’maybe we should rescue her?’

ford wont tell him why they cant

so dipper and mabel sneak out

they steal the grunkles’ boat

mabel falls over board???

dipper tries like HELL to save her

but then he sees mermando save her

SO MABEL IS SAVED BY MERMANDO!!! 

gideon (who had long-loved mabel from afar) finds out

he visits the merman to trick him

all mabel remembers is his voice

so YES mermando trades his voice for legs just like the movie

sue me okay w his distinct accent it makes sense!!!

so the twins get sidetracked bc mermando shows up out of nowhere

they dock on a small island for a pit stop and thats when ‘kiss the girl’ happens

they dont kiss so they move on

they dock on another stretch of land the next day

AND GIDEON APPEARS

the twins have only heard about him from their grunkles so mabel hears his voice and goes *heart eyes*

mermando is Distressed

dipper is Focused on getting to this sleeping princess

mabel makes fun of him for liking her

SO GIDEON HAS MERMANDOS VOICE!

at one point dipper catches him w/o the amulet that makes him sound like mermando

and he tells mabel and its kinda like “the hand that rocks the mabel” or whatever the ep was called

it takes dipper and mermando being threatened (and gideons voice slipping) for her to catch on and she breaks up w him

dipper wants to throw him overboard

they just leave him on the next inhabited island they find

mermando got his kiss but decides to go back to the ocean anyway

he promises to write

mabel is Sad

SO BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED ADVENTURE!

the twins come across a land near the one paz is on and decide to stop for food and to stretch their legs and other hygiene things

they find out there’s some archery thing going on and mabel is like ’ooooh can we try?!’

turns out its for neighboring kingdoms’ princes to win a princess

mabel and dipper think this is RIDICULOUS so they crash it

mabel steps up to shoot and everyone’s like ‘wHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?’

then dipper steps up beside her. neither of them have shot a bow before

they shoot at the same time. mabel’s like thisclose to the bullseye. dippers too far right

THEN!!! PRINCESS WENDY COMES OUT OF NOWHERE

DIPPER AND MABEL ARE IN AWE OF THIS VALKYRIE. THEYRE BOTH READY FOR HER TO KILL THEM BC THEY THINK ITLL BE AWESOME

but wendy is like ‘ACTUALLY ILL SHOOT FOR MYSELF THANKS’ and splits like three arrows down the middle w her accuracy

she looks at mabel and dipper and is like ‘u dudes look fun! ive never seen u before who are u???’

and they’re like ‘WELL!’ and launch into detail about their adventure w overlapping voices and sound affects and VAST description

anyways. i cant decide how old people are rn okay 

so wendy is like “hey dad??? im going on an adventure w these guys!” and her dad is like “unusual but u DID just win ur own hand. so ill allow it”

“YES! can i take soos too?!” 

“sure!”

sO THEYRE OFF AGAIN!!! lemme tell u the ship is filling faST!!!

they get to paz’s land. and the first thing they find is a girl in a tower with long purple hair.

everyone is pretty much just making ‘wtf’ faces for like....ten minutes.

finally wendy calls up the tower like “YO! WHATS W ALL THE HAIR?!”

tambry leans out the window w a bored expression and goes “its mine. im tambry. who r u?”

they introduce themselves and are like “u wanna come on our adventure?”

then....ROBBIE APPEARS!

and he knows where the princess is!!!

”oh yeah. her. shes also in a tower. its got a door but its guarded by gnomes.”

then robbie climbs tambrys hair pecks her cheek and ducks in the tower

they decide to head for the tower robbie directed them to. but they have to pass the castle. Northwest Castle

robbie warned them about the northwests. said that the princess was one and before she disappeared she was the snottiest brat hed ever met

so they became friends despite the fact that he plays music for a living (and not very well either)

her parents told her of the spell when she was twelve

so robbie’s like “they are not nice people and neither was she??? most of the townsfolk are glad shes asleep tbh”

but dammit! dipper came here for an adventure!!! he wasnt going to stop just bc the princess wasnt what he expected!

so they continue on!

mabel is like “maybe she doesnt KNOW how to be nice!”

and soos is just excited to be there!

and wendy is just...u kno...chill

they start to get close to the castle and they feel like they’re being watched

and then soos notices the PEACOCKS!

they assume theyre spies for the king and queen. which is half true?

they can also warn bill if someone is near pacifica

oh damn imagine that

being stuck asleep w a DREAM DEMON in ur head

sorry for the accidental psychological torture paz

WHICH IS THE ONLY TORTURE SHES HAD!

i think to make up for risking her life as a baby ther parents were like “we’re just gonna spoil u rotten and PRETEND u do no wrong eVERYTHING IS FINE”

so dipper is reading the journal and he FINALLY gets to the true loves kiss part of the deal

and he looks around at the party like “oh shit true love what do we do???”

mabel suggests he at least try and everyone agrees that yeah okay thats the back up plan

but dipper wants to use a SPELL!!!

so the king and queen see him w the journal and remember ford having the same one

so everyone is brought to the king and queen

theyre like “pRINCESS GWENDOLYN?!”

bc this is MY STORY and if i wanna give wendy a more princess-y name thEN I WILL

i say as i continue to refer to mason as DIPPER!!!

SO THEYRE MEETING THE NORTHWESTS!!!

wendys like “yes that is me the princess” and then everyone else introduces themselves...w dipper introducing himself as mason bc it just sounds more fairytale-y

soos is jesus (hey zeus! not jee sus)

soos is like....wendys bff/personal servant but mostly bff

so they explain their adventure to the northwests as quickly as possible

preston is no patient man and he’s is like “tbh its probably important she be here for her 18th bday soooo??? as long as she wakes up by next year why not???”

but only bc dipper was like “i wANNA USE MAGIC I DONT WANNA KISS HER THATS PLAN B!!!”

plus u kno...even if he DOES whats the guarantee itll work???

the guarantee is me being a filthy shipper tHATS WHAT!!!

so they continue to the tower!

there is probably a sidequest thingy with giffany bc i liked that episode

also soos needs more screentime im sorry

SO THEN!!! FINALLY!!!! THEY MAKE IT TO THE TOWER!!!

WHICH IS!!!

IN FACT!!!

GUARDED

BY

GNOMES!]

also theres a manotaur/multi-bear sidequest i just thought of bc i like THAT episode!!!

is this gf, a fairytale, sk.yrim, or a d.n.d campaign now??? WHO KNOWS!!! ITS NOT ME!!!

SO THEY GOTTA GET PAST THE GNOMES!

first they offer safe passage in exchange for mabel as their queen

after thats declined theyre like “or the redhead. well take her!”

this is also declined

finally jeff tells them to attack

at first the party tries to fight them off and they do okay

uNTIL SOME GNOME WEAPONIZED SCHMEBULOCKS RAINBOW PUKE!!! (i think it’s toxic tbh but i dONT REMEMBER)

finally mabel just pulls out her trusty crosSbow (aka “GRAPPLING HOOK!”) and they just make a tightrope to the window above the door

wendy goes first and NAILS it

then everyone else follows

soos almost falls and gets left to the gnomes but everyone helps him balance and they all make it through the window

coincidentally. the window leads to the princess’s room

OH MAN WHY DIDNT I USE THE PTERODACTYL?!

oh well. anyways.

everyone is looking around the room and like...taking it all in

dipper takes a moment...then walks over to the princess

he isnt sure if waking her will also wake the demon

crossover even more w my old paciphera au??? idk probably not

so dipper tries the spells he narrowed it down to

none of them work

all his friends have returned to the princess’s room and mabel is like “u gotta kiss her brobro!”

so dipper...poor poor dipper...just leans forward and kisses her

paz pretty much snaps her eyes open when dipper is a half inch from her face while he’s pulling back 

and even tho she was forewarned she wasnt expecting DIPPER so she SCREAMS

dippers ears are ringing

she shuts her eyes and stills her breathing and sits up.

AND SEES EVERYONE ELSE AND SCREAMS AGAIN

“i dIDNT EXPECT U TO BRING *FRIENDS*!”

so once shes a little more calm they explain the whole adventure to her

paz feels a little honored they came all this way just for her

also since True Love beats everything bill is like.....back in his home dimension. also paz has been fighting him for like....over a year.

so paz is like....ready to Go. u kno. just wants to go HOME.

they get pazs shit together and exit the tower through the door

she says goodbye to the gnomes. all by name.

“oh yeah mom and dad made them my personal guard when i was like...eight. theyve been prepping for this my whole life. they’ll meet me back at the castle.” so then she starts telling them about herself and her last like 

two years of being asleep w a DREAM DEMON

“sometimes i got the weirdest nightmares??? and they never ended. but when i woke up i couldnt remember anything specific.”

she and dipper talk away from the group. he tells her about how hes her true love and everything “okay well. we’ll have to lie to my parents and say it was a spell. bc they will NOT approve of us being true loves and if they hurt you...”

“then they hurt *you* too!” dipper finishes (idk maybe a combo w a soulmate au thing?)

meanwhile mabel is like...whining about boy problems??? and wendy is like “this is y boys r dumb.”

soos is like...wandering off. I WANNA INCORPORATE MELODY BUT WHO SHOULD SHE BE?!

paz and dipper start like....arguing about how to deal w her parents

apparently they actually ARENT that nice. if she doesnt marry a prince they’ll give her over to bill completely...or something idk

SO theyre nearing the castle!!!

theyve written theyre grunkles okay no worries. also mermando.

thats y mabels complaing about boys.

mermando and that manatee wife of his!!!

paz is not exactly ready to face her parents so she convinces the party (roll for charisma) to go the long way

which is actually just circles

anyways

we run back in to melody and soos and the party is like ‘wHOOPS WE DIDNT EVEN NOTICE GLAD U DIDNT GET EATEN BY A SPIDER LADY!

maybe melody is like....a fairy???

something light and ‘childish’ bc thatd fit her personality

soos is like “ive BEEN here. u dudes have been going in circles.” and everyone glares at paz.

“im sorry!!! i just dont want to go back!!!”

“ur dad made us promise to have u back for ur 18th bday.” says dipper while he tries to stay mad at his future wife

paz is like “YEAH SO HE CAN MARRY ME OFF TO A PRINCE!!!”

idk why paz and dips are being better at being soulmates here okay i was like....sleep-drunk when i first wrote this

so the party has a choice to make.

take paz back home where she wont be able to be w her TL (which in some cases has probably led to death) OR!!!

sneak her out and take her home w them?!

wendys probably gotta go back to her own kingdom tho.

and soos wants to stay w melody

U KNOW WHAT I JUST REALIZED?!

sTAN NEVER GOT TO BE SOOS’S DAD!!!!

SORRY SOOS!!!

so anyways

mabel and dipper decide to help her sneak out

luckily she knows all the blindspots

it takes longer but they finally make it back to their ship

they say theyre goodbyes to soos and melody and paz wishes them well in her kingdom. she promises to return when shes ready to rule

they load the ship and sail to wendys kingdom next

they stay a few days to recuperate

paz has trouble sleeping bc when she does the nightmares come back.

cue a kat.niss/pee.ta thing where paz sleeps next to dips bc it keeps the nightmares away

wendy has to explain why soos isnt w them to her dad who kinda shrugs it off?

“u proved u can protect urself.” or something.

after like.....a whole fucking year the twins are heading home.

paz and dipper sleep together on the ship too bc its just fucking easier

paz is nervous to meet the grunks

she and dipper arent exactly....dating??? its def more like soulmate au

where theyre AWARE theyre supposed to be together but they dont even rly know if they WANT to be together.

paz is p much “i dont rly wanna be w anyone else. ill let u kno if that changes.” and dips is like “tbh same.”

mabel is already planning a big royal wedding.

iDK Y BUT I WANT THEM TO FIND OUT THEYVE BEEN ROYALTY ALL THIS TIME??? probably just bc i LOVE that trope!!! but theyre not so its whateves.

so they FINALLY get home. mabel has been writing letters this whole time. to mermanso. to soos and melody. to wendy.

shes the captain of the dip.ifica ship and shes gotta keep her crewmembers in the know!!!

the twins also wrote to the grunks the whole time so!!!! no worries!!!

paz tries writing to her parents...but she can never find the right words.

meeting the grunks isnt as bad as she thought???

stan loves her off the bat. partially bc shes rich and bc she doesnt take shit

ford is pleased to meet the girl he saved and shes v v thankful to him for saving her life as best he could.

it takes her like a YEAR to write the letter.

she promises her parents she’ll return. AFTER shes married.

at this point she and dipper ARE together. they figured all theyre confusion out and are just living the good life!

mabel and wendy are doing the long distance thing. shes still friends w mermando.

robbie and tambry found paz and they write back and forth.

u CAN TAKE ROBBIE AND PAZ SIBLINGS FROM MY DECOMPOSING HANDS!!!

everything is as happily ever after as it can get.

and then dipper proposes despite knowing what it means.

BUT THATS A WHOLE OTHER ADVENTURE!!!!

*end credits roll. an epic theme song starts playing*

[talkingtotheapples]

Hey remember when I said I’d do a lyric analysis of northern downpour, and then didn’t do that for like 6 months? yeah here we go:

the opening line of Northern Downpour: “if all our life is but dream” really sets the tone for the song, its half quoting a children’s song; establishing the almost nursery rhyme aesthetic the has going on for large parts. The changes Ryan makes to the line also reveal important thematic elements in the song--“life is but a dream” is changed from a definitive and general statement; its no longer commenting about general reality but rather questioning all his established feelings about their relationship. He is turning to the other person and saying “is any of this real? is this all a fantasy ive built up in my head?” it feels almost as if he is Begging them to contradict him, to tell him what they have is good and Real and not just “broken glass”, that for a second looked like “diamonds”, and although theres a desperate uncertainty to how hes wording these thoughts “/if/ all our life is but a dream” “/do appear/ to be, just like broken glass /to me/“ you get a sense its less that he’s unsure and more that he has this realization and he is /Praying/ he is wrong.

The second verse seems to be the other person’s reply, but instead of addressing his thoughts and questions they turns to what seem like general criticisms of him “i cant believe that genius only comes across in storms of fable foreign tongues”, this line seems to be a dig at how he expresses himself: unorganized, wild, and hard to understand, while they insist thats this cant be the only way, they offer him this rather than, as noted before, addressing his fear that they’re relationship is nothing more than a fantasy or a dream.

The chorus seems to shift away slightly from the conversation the first to verses are detailing, the tone also switches back to the nursery rhyme that was present in the first line of the song. It’s directed to a personified version of the moon, a common theme in english nursery rhymes, it’s also reminiscent of ‘rain, rain go away’ although reversed in meaning. Overall the line is almost a prayer, begging the moon to say in the in the hope that that would freeze this moment forever, this hope adds a sense of anxiety to the whole song as if whatever happiness is held in this moment is fragile and will inevitably end with the day break. Using a child like tone gives the line an innocent edge, innocent as in ignorant rather, he’s asking for an impossible thing, wording it like a nursery rhyme or children’s song acknowledges this, asking for this night/this moment/ maybe even this entire relationship to last is as fruitless as child singing to that rain in the hope that it will bring fair weather

“Sugarcane in the easy morning/weathervanes my one and lonely”; speaks of Contrast; the first line feels to me to be about happiness and contentment: sugarcane is sweet and wonderful but also simple and natural, he also used the word ‘easy’ which i think compounds that, its a situation that is happy and beautiful but also effortless then you add the setting of the morning time which brings with it a sense of domesticality, and so the line paints a picture of a relationship or situation that is blissful and warm but natural and content also(much like a home)This is immediately contrasted with the next line; ‘weathervanes my one and lonely’ : weathervanes are an image that instantly conjure(for me anyway) ideas of isolation, they are distant from everything, they’re an object you own but have no physical contact with, this is then emphasized by the weathervane being described as lonely, Ryan, by using a possessive phrase aligns himself with the weathervane, creating the suggestion they are the same(he is also isolated and alone). Further more the choice of a weathervane suggests location as well, theyre an object rarely if ever found in the city, an object that is completely connected to farm life, as this is a song written by someone who lives in a city but travels long, long distances through the country seeing things like weathervanes would be a visual reminder that he’s a far from home as it well as being an object that is ‘lonely’ in its own right, bringing us back to the ‘one and lonely’ part, they’re joined together by their equal loneliness.

we shift back to the conversation here with a description of the of the other person talking: “through playful lips made of yarn”, Ryan has been using body imagery through out the song, and theres often been a subtle personification of the body parts, which is very true in this case. Instead of the speaker being simply described as talking the words move through their ‘playful lips’, which gives the words an edge of agency in their own right. But in this case he hasn’t just personified the lips, he’s also given them a sense of the artificial, by describing them as being made of ‘yarn’, not only is it a artificial material, it also has a strikingly different texture to lips(the line wouldnt have the same effect had he used plastic instead) the description gains a very haptic feel to it, but also alien and strange, potentially indicating his feelings towards the other person at this point.

The emotion of the verse starts shifts back to the more distraught feeling at the start of the song, the “Capricorn” is described as “fragile” and the words the came from the “playful lips” now “unravel”. As if the as the conversation progresses the other person gets more and more upset, and their speech more jumbled.

There isn’t a clear indication who or what ‘that fragile capricorn’ is, the natural inclination is that it’s the other person(presumably they are a capricorn) but its place in the verse seems to suggest otherwise— it seem to be the cause for the mood change, “/That/ fragile Capricorn /unraveled/ words like moths upon old scarves”, like it is the cause for the unraveling, I want to argue that its an outside force or situation, potentially the conversation they are currently having; tentative and hanging over their heads.

this is immediately followed by, what ryan described as the central line of p.o.: “I know the world’s a broken bone but melt your headaches call it home”, in the context of this song potentially being about a troubled relationship it could be taken to be about that specifically, a plea either to the other person or himself to keep working on the problems in their relationship, but I think its almost meant to be taken in general sense,(potentially as well) its not enough to just acknowledge the ways in which your life, or the wide world is hard and harmful and then to wallow it that pain, rather you have to then be proactive in that situation and Make It Better(which is a bit of a theme in jon’s solo music but i Digress).

the song then moves back into a repetition of the ‘sugarcane’ line, eventually interlaced with ‘hey moon’, finally the song ends on two new lines: “You are at the top of my lungs/Drawn to the ones who never yawn” and return to the body imagery that has ran through the song, “you are at the top of my lungs” has implication of someone ‘taking your breathe away’(tho its infinitely better worded that i actually feel guilty describing it as such but i dont know how else to put it). yawning is a sign of tiredness or boredom so the opposite of that invokes connotations of focus or intensity, tho i got to say im unclear as to whether that line refers to Him being “drawn to the ones who never yawn” or the other person, I default on it being the other person because of the wording but it makes more sense to me if it refers to ryan idk

basically northern downpour is a song that sits tentatively strung between the knowledge that maybe this relationship isnt the healthiest and being So in love with the other person that you almost dont care but mainly desperately want to be proved wrong, desperately begging the moon to stay in the sky so this Good moment doesnt end and you wont have to face reality by the harsh light of day

Some Notes

•this might be a a bit of a hot take idk it isnt really what i thought about the song until i thought intensly about each line for hours but once i landed on it the more i became convinced that was what the song was talking about, its still just my interpretation tho, how ever you interpretated it is just as valid u know, and if you wanna send me your thoughts about northern downpour(or any song off pretty odd lmao) please feel free! i obviously have Thoughts lmaoo

•kinda wanna write an entire piece about how northern downpour, dangrous blues and lie to the truth are basically a trilogy, kinda wanna cry

•i had to physically stop myself from writing an entire paragraph about how ‘i know the worlds a broken bone but melt your headaches call it home’ is a progression from the central ideas of fever and im real emotional about it but i managed to control myself cos it didnt really fit

[weartirondad]

And You Would Smile (And That Would Be Enough) 5/6

5 times Tony helps pull Peter away from an anxiety built cliff and the 1 time Peter is on his own. (part i, part ii part iii, part iv, part vi)

FF.net I ao3

Peter’s vision was swimming.

He blinked once, twice, three times before the world shifted again and came back into focus.

The teenager was standing in a dark corridor with coppery walls. Or where was the taste in his mouth coming from? His left hand reached out to touch his mouth only to find his skin hitting the cool fabric of his Spider-Man suit. He must be wearing the mask, he realized, and let his hands drop to his side at his find.

If he was in the suit then he must be on a mission. There must be something more important going on than finding out where the coppery taste was coming from.

Peter narrowed his eyes, frantically beating heart settling when his suit complied with the movement. There was always a scarcely audible whirring to be heard when the suit’s eyes moved. It was familiar. Calming. His suit was working so he had to be relatively safe. He was Spider-Man after all and he had a suit with the latest Stark technology.

Some of the fear that had taken up residence in his stomach left his body with his next exhale.

“Hello?” he called out and flinched when his voice echoed through the empty hallway, bouncing off the walls until eventually fading into silence once more. “Someone home?”

His feet started moving, hesitantly at first and then more decisively when nothing bad seemed to happen. The sound of his footsteps lingered in the air, making a weirdly uncomfortable melody that trailed behind him and raced him to go faster, to reach the end of the hall.

Peter knew that he had to reach the end of the hall. There was a soft blue light coming from the door this corridor led to and that light felt important. It was his mission to reach the light that was pulsating at a steady frequency. Somehow, he felt that the light needed his protection.

He had almost reached the door with the light when his enhanced hearing picked up on a painful huff. With the scream the light pulses became more erratic, too, urging him on. The sound sent chills through his entire body and, when his brain registered just why the voice sounded so familiar, it ripped straight through his heart, leaving him feeling raw and helpless.

“Tony?” he called, his wobbly voice echoing from the walls, mocking him in tiny whispers from a million different directions. He strained his ears to pick up on a reply but there was nothing.

He had almost convinced himself that his senses were playing a trick on him when the sound came back, a lot closer and sounding a lot more in pain. The light stuttered slightly before returning to a steady but faster pace.

Without a second thought he ran the last distance until his hand was on the door knob, his last obstacle before reaching the blue light and his mentor. He thrusted the door open with all his might, not caring when the wood splintered and the force took it off its hinges.

There, separated from him through a glass pane, sat Tony. The light of the arc reactor in his chest filling the room with an absurd calm considering how weakly it fluttered just then.

For an unbearable second Peter was afraid it would fade completely.

But Tony was still breathing, although the rales that he picked up on through the pane didn’t sound very encouraging. He ran forward, willing the blue light to keep pulsating and his mentor to look up.

“Tony!” he screamed, fists hitting the glass pane over and over again, yet it wouldn’t budge. Not even a crack in the smooth surface. The refraction of light through the glass looked mockingly beautiful. As if it was any condolence for Peter as long as Tony was still barely breathing. As long as he still looked mostly dead.

“Please, Tony! Look at me,” he cried again, not caring about the tears that slipped out and ran down his cheeks. His hands were busy trying to make it through to his mentor.

Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead. Please –

A shudder went through the billionaire’s entire body then and there was nothing he could do but pray for the light to keep glowing and – oh god, his limbs were flailing uncontrollably and his head kept hitting the hard cot until the spasm died done.

Peter screamed. Tony looked up. Their eyes met.

“Tony!” he tried again to get through to the pane, not knowing how much the older man could pick up. His eyes widened and at first Peter was so sure it was in recognition but then he tried to scramble away from him in fear, rattling at the metallic cuffs constraining him to the cot and Peter had to watch in horror when he struggled enough to turn the cot on its side. Tony fell but he didn’t seem to care, fearful eyes still looking up at Peter.

“No! I- It’s me, Tony!” he cried out, pulling off the mask in a swift motion but before his mentor could see his face, his attention was otherwise occupied

Captain America had entered the room, lips curling up in a humorless snarl that made a shiver run down Peter’s spine. He looked positively evil when he turned to look at Peter for the fraction of a second before squatting down next Tony to all but throw the cot back up again.

Tony’s fear was replaced by anger. His eyes were flashing with unadulterated rage in a way Peter had never ever seen and his fists were curling at his sides, struggling to fight free once more.

“I trusted you,” he spit out but Captain America only laughed when Tony coughed up blood and gunk.

Before Captain America could get a word out, Peter was yelling again, doubling the forces of his punches against the glass until – finally – a crack.

“Don’t hurt him,” he kept screaming, “Don’t you fucking touch him. Don’t- Tony!”

Without batting an eye Cap slammed down his shield onto the weakly fluttering light and Peter, still on the other side of the pane, could do nothing but watch and scream and riot when it flickered before going black.

The American superhero was towering over the lifeless form of the man that had become his family and, without so much as looking at Peter, he turned and left Tony behind.

Peter was frozen.

Then he crumbled.

“No!” He cried out over and over again, to no avail. “No, Tony! Tony! Don’t! Noo-“

Suddenly there was a strong grip on his shoulders but he was too far gone. He didn’t want anyone to comfort him. He wanted Tony to be alive. He wanted-

With all his might he struggled against the other person’s hands until he heard a curse.

“Dammit, kid.”

“Tony.”

“Right here, buddy. Go on, open your eyes. Admire the shiner you gave your old man.”

The teenager came back to himself slowly, blinking warily against the bright lights until he could get his eyes to focus on the person in front of him. The air left his lungs in a painful gasp. “Tony.” Before he could grab at the man, he was already sitting down beside him, inviting Peter to curl around his upper body. Which he did without hesitation.

He was still shaking and the image – it had seemed so real, so final.

Tony held him while he cried, his heartbeat steady and not connected to any sort of blueish light. It still had time. So much time.

Tony was really here. He could feel the calloused fingers against the soft skin of his neck and smell the motor oil and his cologne. He could hear his even breathing and the very real taste of his salty tears. And when he blinked, Tony was looking at him with the softest expression he had ever seen, only marred by the deep lines of worry on his face.

“Better?” he asked after a moment and Peter nodded but didn’t make a move to uncurl from the billionaire.

“You wanna talk about it?” The voice didn’t really leave room for him to actually deny. Postpone maybe but not completely deny.

He shrugged instead and settled his cheek more firmly against his mentor’s chest, letting his eyes drop close to the feeling of being secure and both of them being away from harm.

“Saw Cap hurt you,” he mumbled into the soft fabric of Tony’s t-shirt, half hoping the man hadn’t heard him, half hoping for reassurance that the guy clad in the American flag hadn’t really done any harm.

“Oh buddy, you’re having nightmares about that now?” Tony’s voice was soft but sad as his fingers skillfully rubbed the nape of his neck, “I told you it’s going to be fine. I thought me allowing you to tag along would help you relax a little. Maybe it was a bad ide-“

“No,” Peter interrupted him, arms coming up to hold onto his mentor back more tightly, “No, it’s not a bad idea, I promise.”

“Okay,” Tony said reluctantly but didn’t further comment on it, opting to distract him from the lingering horror of his nightmare instead. “You wanna go in there as New York’s favorite vigilante in spandex or like a normal human being?”

Despite himself Peter cracked a smile. It faded the second he remembered the fear in Tony’s eyes in his nightmare. He shuddered. “N-not in the suit,” he said quietly, “If that’s okay?”

The older man paused the massage on his scalp, clearly trying to figure out what was wrong with the suit, but eventually shrugged and resumed what he was doing. “Sure thing, kiddo. I’ll introduce you as my genius intern who’s freaking out about meeting the Avengers for the first time. We might be able to score you an autograph.”

“You suck.” Peter slapped Tony’s chest lightly, his words holding no force. “I’d like going in as Peter Parker,” he yawned, making himself more comfortable in Tony’s hold. He smiled when the other man adjusted his position, clearly not intending to leave Peter alone for now.

“Sleep, kid. Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day for both of us.”

---

I'm sorry! Peter was supposed to meet the rest of the Avengers in this chapter but I couldn't physically bring myself to write the words. I tried like three times but it just wouldn't work. I'm really sorry because I know people were looking forward to that but I would've messed it up and I kind of actually liked the dream sequence so I'm leaving you with this. x

[j-whirl44]

This Will End.

OhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH buddy look at me i’m writing again (kinda)

Red Dead 2 has consumed my every thought for the last two weeks basically and I have a lot of feelings.

I love the relationship between Mary and Arthur and I feel like it doesn’t get enough love. So i’m giving a little bit.

I just finished Chapter IV like 5 hours ago so that’s where this is set bc i have no clue where this game is going at the current moment lmaoooo.

This is in Mary’s POV which wasn’t planned tbh but I liked doing it. (might write something in Arthur’s POV when I play a lil more of Chapter V and see if we uh, get out of that whole predicament)

Pls enjoy pls tell me what you think i’m very nervous i haven’t written any fiction in over a year !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Read it on AO3 too ! [x]

Made them a playlist too [x]

“So are you going to tell about the little adventure you had with Arthur getting daddy back here?” Jamie asks his sister with a hint of teasing in his tone. Mary slaps his arm.

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but there’s nothing to tell. We found daddy trying to sell mama’s brooch and then that was that,” she said.

“That old bastard came back hours before you did,” Jamie countered, “rambling how you’ve ‘climbed back into bed with that mangy outlaw,” he finished. Mary blushed slightly at her father’s accusation.

She quickly composed herself, “Don’t talk about daddy like that,” she deflected. The two continued to walk in silence. Mary sighed. “We may have...gone to see the traveling performances that was playing in the theater. I-I felt like I owed him something after making him deal with daddy.”

The smile on Jamie’s face filled Mary with instant regret. “Oh Jamie don’t make a big deal of this. It didn’t mean anything. We-we didn’t do nothing but watch the show and walk to the trolley afterwards,” she said. Jamie nodded.

“Oh I knew you were still sweet on him! And he is so clearly still sweet on you,” Jamie exclaimed, getting looks from passerbyers.

Mary hushed him. “I am not. We are friends. It’s...It’s all we can afford to be,” she said. Jamie looked at her with sympathy.

“Oh my sweet sister. I have never seen you care so much about a person. Not even your own husband!” Mary always felt a little guilty about that. It not like her late husband was a bad man, he just wasn’t Arthur.

Arthur. The rough and tough 20 something year old boy who took Mary by the hand and made her feel like the most important lady in all of New Hanover.

Arthur. The rough and tough 20 something year old idiot who had a fierce loyalty to Dutch and Hosea and got so swept up in their fantasies of riches and lawless life. “They raised me,” he always said, whenever Mary raised a complaint on how they ‘do their business’ especially Dutch. She regrets a lot of her life as a young women but she never regretted her time with Arthur.

“I,” she hesitated as her brother looked to her, “I asked him to run away with me. I asked his to run and never look back.”

Jamie looked at her with disbelief. “You? You asked him?”

Mary nodded. “I can’t take this life anymore Jamie,” she said. “I want to be with him I just don’t know how.”

“What did he say?” Jamie asked. 

Mary scoffed, “That damn fool! He told me he needed to help some people first. That we’d need money. That he so close to bringing everything to an end.”

“Same old Arthur,” Jamie mused. Mary nods. “He always had that loyalty to Dutch, ugh, that wretched man!” she never trusted Dutch. The few times they met never left the best impression on her. He always seemed slimy and insincere; never truly letting Arthur be anything more than the muscle of the gang.

Mary was about to respond when the boom of a paper boy screaming the headline: “Read all about it! Van der Lined gang leads shootout in Saint Denis!” The callout stops Mary in her tracks. She rushes over to the paper boy and gives him a dollar. Jamie close behind. “Keep the change,” she said. She barely catches the thank you from the boy as she scans the big bolded headline on the front page.

“NOTORIOUS GANG BEHIND BIGGEST SHOOTOUT IN SAINT DENIS HISTORY; MANY DEAD"

Dead. The word rings through Mary’s mind. Surely he can’t be dead. He knew how to handle himself. She grips the sides of the paper tight as she tries to read through the rest of the article.

“Mary. Mary come sit you’re pale,” Jamie said, “What’s wrong?” They walk to the nearest bench together as Mary’s mind races.

“That gang. That’s the gang he runs with. Arthur. He-he-”

Realization hit Jamie as he tried to calm her down, “We don’t know nothing yet. He’s the toughest man I know. He made it out alive, sister.” Her eyes began to well.

She felt both terrified and angry; an exhausting combination. She scanned the article for any sign of his name when another bit tugged her heart.

‘Van der Lined’s second-in-command, Hosea Matthews, was reported to have been one of the many casualties in the rampant shootout.’

Mary brought a hand to her lips, “Oh. Oh Hosea was a good man. As good as any many can be in a life like that.”

Mary recalled the first time she met Hosea at a saloon in some small new settlement. He took to her the said and commended her on the ‘job’ she’d done on Arthur. “That boy rarely smiled before he started spending time with you. He’s quite smitten, though lord only knows the boy will never admit it. I’m glad he has you,” he said,” “Besides. It gets him to stop following me like a lost puppy with no sense of direction, so thanks for that! Ha!”

She couldn’t hold in her tears any longer as she thought about how she’d never get to see Arthur again. She’d never get to feel his hands on her again. Feel his pained stare ever again. His smile; his laugh; his lips; his anything. She should’ve put her foot down more, she shouldn’t have been so coy with him and let him know how much she loved him. Then maybe, she thought, just maybe he would’ve accepted her request of running of together and leaving her cursed daddy and his vile gang behind. It really is just a pretty dream now though.

A very pretty one; as he put it.

After awhile the siblings slowly walked back to their hotel room. Mary excused herself to the balcony where she watched the sunset with a pen and paper.

My Dear Arthur,

I heard the news. My heart is so heavy. I do not wish to know why you thought you needed to do something like this. When you said you were getting money, I thought it was a much more simpler and less stupid job than this. You continue to surprise me in such heartbreaking ways.

I’m sorry to hear about Hosea. I know you thought of him as a father; and you a son to him. I always wished you cared me the way cared for your gang. Why didn’t you? Oh I must admit I’m writing this in both hope and fear that you’ll never read it. I know not if you’re alive or dead. A part of me hopes I never get the answer.

Oh my darling. Why couldn’t you just have run away with me that day. Where would we be now? Somewhere off in Chicago? Or perhaps we went even more south to Mexico. I wouldn’t have cared as long as I was in your company. I pray we see each other again. I truly do. Until then I will curse you every night for not being here.

Always, Mary

She folded the letter and contemplated what to do with it until she finally looked at the lit candle on the table and held the paper over the flame.