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June -> September doodle roundup

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...gently, she coaxed you into bending down over the sink and moved her body into a better position, so that her waist ended up in the corner of your vision.

beatrice scrubbed her fingers through your scalp, slapping the little electric light in the mirror on so that you were both illuminated in a kind of hungry white light. there was a frantic energy to her gestures – how she pulled on your scalp, running her fingers through again and again while you watched the petrol float in a sheen of light amber on the surface of the water as it gurgled into the pipes.

by such slight ligaments are we bound ch 7 by @daisychainsandbowties

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One of the most frustrating things about ADHD is just the way that you absolutely cannot trust future you.

Like, I look at something and think "Oh, I'll deal with that later" like, no I won't. I absolutely won't. I should just do it now while I'm there. I should make plans to do something... Oh wait, will I have the energy to do that??? I was talking with a friend who told me I should come over for tea sometime, which I absolutely would love to do, but I said I was too tired. "Too tired for tea?" she asks. Like, no, I would love tea, but I'm too tired to know that I'll have the energy to get to the place and the only thing I hate worse than not doing things is being flaky on my friends.

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The most terrifying part of having memory issues is when you can feel something from 5 seconds ago be thrown out the window and there's an empty hole where it once was. You remember that you forgot something.

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Friends with my Ex

The thing that first got me to write Warrior Nun fanfiction (as opposed to reading it endlessly) was the idea of what would happen if Ava and Beatrice fell in love with someone else. What would that look like? How would that happen? How would they navigate a friendship, with everything that had passed between them? How would their separate relationships bring out the aspects of their love that were most precious and beautiful? By the time I was done, I had this: angsty, funny, fluffy at times, and with the happiest possible ending I could think of for a post-canon fic (and the happiest such ending I've seen so far).

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Some individuals with AD/HD, especially without hyperactivity, have an activation problem as described by Thomas Brown, Ph.D. in his article AD/HD without Hyperactivity (1993). Rather than a deficit of attention, this means that individuals can’t deploy attention, direct it, or put it in the right place at the right time. He explains that adults who do not have hyperactivity often have severe difficulty activating enough to start a task and sustaining the energy to complete it. This is especially true for low-interest activities. Often it means that they can’t think of what to do so they might not be able to act at all, or, as Kate Kelly and Peggy Ramundo say in You Mean I’m Not Lazy, Stupid or Crazy?!, they might experience a “paralysis of will” (pg. 65). “The clothes from my trip—a month ago—are just still lying in a heap in the suitcase.” “I spend a lot of time in bed watching TV but my mind isn’t watching TV. I’m thinking about what I should be doing, but I don’t have the energy to do it.”

- Sari Solden, Women With Attention-Deficit Disorder

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I spent two hours rereading Beyond Our Space and Starlight last night and I just wanted to give my appreciation again. It’s just so incredible. I’m forever in awe.

The world building is just so immersive, and the dynamics you’ve captured are so fascinating. I want to read fanfiction of your fanfiction, I’m just so enraptured with everything you’ve done with the story.

thank youuuu 🥺💖

It's so validating to hear that. This story is my baby, and as I'm rounding the last few corners on chapter 7, I'm so happy I'll finally be able to show my readers why I started writing this.

I can't help but put parts of myself into what I write, and BoSaS already features plenty of musings on themes like grief and the philosophies of choice and freedom, but coming up on the end of "season 1" as it were, I'm hoping this will really tie it off with a nice bow, and add an extra layer of depth to the story.

Because as a story, yes, it's about grief, but it's not about grief alone.

Ultimately, I think, it's about legacy.

I'm so happy people enjoy this fic, and I can't wait to finish this chapter and finally be able to sit down with the rest of you (because I'm also very much a reader for who I'm writing) and just go, "yeah... that's what it's about."

Thank you for this.

I love you all so much.

Hope to show you this latest chapter soon ~💖

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You're a Slut, Bea... A Gay Slut - Chapter 1: demanding my mind be set free (from wanting the things i don’t need)

Summary:

There is a secret test, hidden within the SAT. This test does not measure a student’s aptitude at reading, writing, and arithmetic. It measures a student’s innate ability to lie, cheat, fight, and kill. Those who score well are recruited into a secret paramilitary academy. Some call them seductresses. Some call them spies. Fools call them innocent. They call themselves N.U.N.S.

(Or, the Warrior Nun D.E.B.S. AU)

Words: 3,455 Main Relationships: AvaTrice Rating: M

Fic:

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ok this is an incredibly long shot but i might as well try

I'm trying to find the author of a Warrior Nun fic that was removed from ao3 at some point

iirc the title was 'where our father used to sit' and it involved a hypothetical Warrior Nun season 4 told from the perspective of a new OCS recruit

iirc in the imagined season 3, Beatrice melted down the Cruciform Sword and tattooed herself with the divinium to serve as a sort of two-way-radio to Ava on the other side — but now that Ava's back, all the divinium in her system is slowly killing her

Beatrice is just grateful that Ava is back at all, and wants to spend the time she has left with her

but Ava wants to keep looking for a cure b/c she can't imagine losing Bea

so yeah. if anyone knows their ao3 handle or has a wayback machine link to the fic, please hmu 🥺 I'd rly appreciate it

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Prompt: Hickey 💋

anon you’re brilliant with these prompts lol - for this one, let’s go with some kind of modern cafe au 

“Are you mad at Beatrice or something?” 

Ava jumps at the voice behind her, would’ve whacked Hans in the face had it not been for his expertly timed dodge. “What? No - of course not -” 

Hans cuts off her fluster with a raised eyebrow. “Then why have you been glaring at her all morning?” 

“I’m not glaring,” Ava mutters as she goes back to cleaning the already clean counter with her damp towel.

The ‘her’ in question is seated at the table she usually takes by the window, book in hand like always on the weekends. Unlike the weekdays, Beatrice lets herself linger, lets herself loosen: hair pulled back in a bun but not as tight, evidenced by the handful of strands she reaches up to tuck behind her ear every few minutes. The ends of her hair brush the side of her neck where the subject of Ava’s not-glaring sits, red and prominent.  

It had been a surprise to notice the mark when Beatrice had stepped up to the counter to ask for her usual weekend order (a lavender London Fog that Ava had convinced her to try several weeks ago because you deserve to treat yourself, Bea and, to Ava’s giddy delight, Beatrice hasn’t strayed from it since) but it’s not that Ava wasn’t happy for Beatrice, she was! Very happy for her! And proud of her for owning it, not hiding it, not hiding herself. 

Still. 

“I’m sorry to bother,” and Ava jumps a second time, Hans dodging her flying limbs yet again, and turns to find Beatrice at the counter with her beautiful, marred neck. It’s a good neck, Ava thinks; wonders how whoever left the mark had been able to restrain themselves to leaving only one. 

“It’s no bother at all,” Hans answers and Ava realizes she’d completely missed Beatrice’s request. Hans hands Beatrice a glass of water, then - to Ava’s utter horror - gestures towards Beatrice’s neck. “Wild night?” he asks grinning as he casts a not-so-subtle glance at Ava, who very barely keeps from kicking him.

Beatrice blinks, her hand rising up to the side of her neck. “Oh, this?” She laughs, wry, and screw kicking Hans in the shins, Ava’s going to strangle him because the last thing she wants is to hear this, to hear about someone else’s hands on Beatrice, someone else’s mouth - 

“We were training gi chokes at BJJ yesterday,” Beatrice explains, her eyes flitting from Hans to Ava. “My partner needed a bit of extra practice.” 

Ava blinks. “So it’s a gi hickey?” she blurts out before she realizes her mouth has opened. 

A laugh surprises its way past Beatrice’s lips. “I suppose,” she says. Frowns. “It’s not … inappropriate is it? I’m afraid I don’t have much, well, any experience with hickeys in general -” 

“No, it’s great,” Ava says, stepping closer to reassure - only to bump into the edge of the counter. “It looks good on you. You should get more.” Winces, at her words words and the sore spot at her ribs. 

Beatrice blushes, but to Ava’s surprise, she doesn’t back down. Doesn't look away - instead, eyes her ever closer. “Is -” Ava watches a flash of pink licks across Beatrice's bottom lip “- Are you offering?”

Ava’s jaw goes slack and her mind goes blank for who knows how long - she recovers only by the sound of Hans’ snort behind her (she throws the damp towel on the counter behind her without looking and hears the satisfying slap and muffled gasp when it lands on Hans’ face). “I mean, I’d take you out to dinner first.” 

Beatrice nods fervently, somehow even redder than before. The blush climbs up her neck, the mark there blending in, as if washed away.

Ava grins. She’ll give her a real one soon enough. 

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Chapters: 12/12 Fandom: Warrior Nun (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva Characters: Ava Silva, Sister Beatrice (Warrior Nun), Sister Camila (Warrior Nun), Sister Lilith (Warrior Nun), Sister Beatrice’s Parents (Warrior Nun), Original Female Character(s), Shotgun Mary (Warrior Nun), J.C. (Warrior Nun) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Fake Marriage, Exes, Romantic Comedy, Meeting the Parents, Humor, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Weddings Summary:

Beatrice learns that after years of coldness, her parents finally accept her life. It’s a great moment for her. Except she’s just been divorced. In a desperate attempt to show her parents her happiness, Beatrice turns to the only person who can help her—her ex-girlfriend, Ava Silva.

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Fake Marriage AU

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tagged by @the-darkness-does-not-bargain for this six sentence thing🥰🥰 the rules are you post the last six sentences of what you’re writing but i’m going to ignore that and post this chunk that is coherent since i take a long time to say anything🥰

from my ot3 vamp au😘

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“humans have more… choice about it. you can decide not to eat meat at all.”

she traces the tips of two fingers across Ava’s chest, and this time it does not feel demonstrative - or, maybe the word she wants is deliberate. beatrice isn’t trying to test the waters anymore because they are already pink-frothed with blood. her expression is faraway.

“most of us don’t though,” Ava tells her, shivering, even though the brush of fingers across her chest is only an idle animation. it is not trying to make her breath catch but she is every metaphor for a moth to a flame. she is so drawn to, so helpless against these hands.

ava tries to hold onto the thought that the body obstructing the moonlight is old. it has habits she cannot fathom. but she doesn’t really think that Beatrice is teasing her now; just touching, in her odd reverent way.

ava has never felt anything close to holy

and good, good. she knows now that no holy water or consecrated ground can stop an angry ghost still girl-shaped from filling a room up with blood, but still. on the off chance that being better would make her a poison to them she is happy to lay here, profane and just-fucked and hopelessly drawn to the girl with eyes like bloodshot halos.

she stirs on the backseat – they are impossibly tangled up now in the almost-dark. just moonlight leaking in, air through the window beatrice rolled down, after they were done. ava coming down, still shaking. watching beatrice use her forearm to wipe Ava’s cum off her chin. an odd, practical sort of motion that turned Ava on all over again.

“besides. you can do that too, sort of.”

“I drink blood, Ava. there’s hardly any vegetarian option in that.”

Ava rolls her eyes, realising belatedly that her head is resting on Beatrice’s discarded coat. she has the shirt back on but unbuttoned, gaping open to show a scandalous slant of stomach. Ava likes that she is unsculpted – her tummy faintly soft when Ava kissed it. there’s a false note of reassurance in that – how beatrice not a statue but a warm girl.

“no, but you could hunt bad people, instead.” she feels her voice take a turn toward quiet, “is that what you do?”

twin wicks of gold observe her through the darkness and beatrice takes a long, unnecessary breath. “some of us do that. i think, at least, since lilith gives any coven a wide berth and you don’t often meet solitary vampires out in the wild. we are avoidant creatures by nature.” she shuts her mouth then and Ava can see a pattern of self-reproach in it as she presses her lips flat against her teeth. “but no, i don’t do that.”

“oh”

she gives Ava a very sad smile (she could almost have taken it in her hands, it is so palpable), “i have eaten poets before.”

“were they good?”

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AO3 Femslash Top 100: Round 4

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one of my favorite things to do in limited perspective is write sentences about the things someone doesn't do. he doesn't open his eyes. he doesn't reach out. i LOVE sentences like that. if it's describing the narrator, it's a reflection of their desires, something they're holding themselves back from. there's a tension between urge and action. it makes you ask why they wanted or felt compelled to do that, and also why they ultimately didn't. and if it's describing someone else, it tells you about the narrator's expectations. how they perceive that other person or their relationship. what they thought the other person was going to do, or thought the other person should have done, but failed to. negative action sentences are everything.