#I was NOT going to write that much but once I thought about jefferson I had to type it all out

[thealexchen]

You know, I’m happy for Max for finally being able to get her photos exhibited, and not have to undo it all because of some tornado, or be denied by some rude New Yorkers.

Now we know she truly made it as a photographer. Just like Chloe said that she would after all this time.

😁📸

Honestly, that is one thing I'm really happy to see. Max was definitely the most career-focused out of all the LiS protagonists and it's really gratifying to see her artistic career take off and her work recognized. And also actually see her work, read the exhibit placards with her professional bio, and use the camera as a player, because it was difficult to see the throughline and thought process behind her photos in LiS1.

I also find Max's photographic subjects so fascinating. The exhibition is called "Walking With Ghosts," and this is the description:

After receiving her first camera at the age of six (a Contax T2), Maxine Caulfield has sought to capture a life that evades explanation. From the recent "green hell" of the recession-era Pacific Northwest to the ancient industrial of the Rust Belt, she has restored meaning to empty places, illuminating the plights of everyday people living on the brink of change. A winner of the IPA award and a National Geographic Fellowship, she is currently Caledon University's Hannah Hellerton Artist in Residence.

In short, it looks like Max became a freelance travel photographer after the first game and has been all over the United States. I wouldn't be surprised if she did photojournalism as well, because the examples point toward raising awareness for environmentalism and poverty in the Rust Belt, and she even won a fellowship hosted by National Geographic (the prestige!!).

However, the actual photos on display are all landscapes. In the reveal livestream, Hannah Telle describes Max like, "She doesn't feel comfortable in any one place, and she's living a nomadic lifestyle, taking photographs of abandoned, lonely spaces. For some reason, anything that's desolate or stark or intense really draws her eye." Max's new artistic obsession with destroyed environments seems to be her way of processing her trauma about witnessing the storm and the people she may have lost, whether or not it destroyed Arcadia Bay. The diner photo "Order Up" is definitely inspired by The Two Whales, for example.

What really intrigues me about Max's work is that it just toes the line between artistic and unnerving... much like her current mental state, where her intense trauma is just beneath the surface. Essentially, Max's photography captures liminal spaces, likely meant to evoke a mix of nostalgia, eeriness, and surrealness in the viewer. Max's photos most definitely include places where people have died, and where most people would be scared away, Max is instead drawn to these sites, as if seeking a big enough creative outlet for her gaping crater of grief. And who else was obsessed with capturing moments of transition between innocence and fear...? None other than Mark Jefferson.

Now, I don't know if D9 will go as far as to delve into the implications of Max's trauma on her morality, but after writing Alex as unambiguously a good person, it could be extremely weighty and nuanced if D9 used Max's art as a reflection of her mental state and show her actively resisting becoming like her disturbed, predatory teacher, which would also tie DE more strongly to LiS1. So far at least, we know she's not obsessed with the macabre like Nathan Prescott was. I don't think her art is mentally disturbed, but D9's interpretation (so far) is a really intelligent way of showing that Max's eye and mind are reflective of someone on the fringes of society. While her work has resonated with artists and critics, it's also not the healthiest way to process her trauma. I think showing the darker sides of her personality (that isn't just a nightmare sequence at the end) could make for some really thoughtful, nuanced characterization. She's already socially separated from most people because of her powers and trauma, so she brings new light to neglected spaces (and likely people, too) in her art.

Also, it's now canon that Max got her first camera when she was six years old, the same year she met Chloe 🥹 Nowadays, Contax T2's go for over $1,000 on Ebay! Even back then, Max was a little artiste who apparently knew how to scope out the most coveted analog camera 😂

[luxraine]

"Why is loving you not fair?"

Earth 1610! Miles x Reader: angst with a happy ending.

word count: 2.3k

Author's note: This is inspired by littyhoney. As my first post, feedback would be appreciated. I sincerely apologize for any of the poor spanish translation as I am not fluent, but I still tried for the sake of the character. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. ♡

You, [Name] [Last Name] grew up in Brooklyn, New York. The city that is so compelling, with numerous crimes making appearances over the years. But the said city wasn’t any less beautiful with Spiderman, serving as its hero for more than 10 years and preventing fear and terror from taking over the citizens. Growing up, your parents have been out of the picture due to an Incident involving Spiderman and the villains who he was fighting against. No matter how hard it was to force yourself to mature faster than any normal kid resulting from the absence of your parents, you never blamed Spiderman for failing to save them. You understood the responsibilities that come with being a hero and to your eyes, he will always be. You have an older sibling, who is the reason why you managed to keep your childhood home. But the only thing is that they live in another state because of their job. It didn’t make you feel lonely, though. And you owe it to the Davis, whose family your parents were close with. Mrs. Rio, who treats you so kindly and invites you in for every lunch and dinner to eat the meals she deliciously makes and Mr. Jefferson, who never forgets to make you feel welcome in his home.

But on top of that… Miles. Miles Morales, the courteous boy you did everything together with, the overprotective boy who instructed you to update him on whatever you do and wherever you go, and the boy who has your heart.

Having to live and raise yourself on your own, you believe in achieving things through hard work. That’s how it is and always has for you. However, there is one thing that you’ll never be able to have.

His heart.

No matter how much love, passion, and patience you put into it.

Ever since he got bitten by a radioactive spider, which alternated his dna and gave him spider-like abilities, you couldn’t be more proud of Miles. The boy has always been wanting to prove himself throughout his life, that by doing the things he’s passionate about can bring changes into his life that is full of expectations. Ever since you found out, you have been with him through thick and thin. Never once doubting his capabilities. Being in your family who has a record for being geniuses in science and technology allowed you to be a use of your best friend, Spiderman. By giving database information to be able to catch bad guys, to adding features to his spider suit. You were the one constantly making adjustments to his web shooters, by enhancing its strength and expanding its abilities. You provided him with support and company, along with loving him silently over the years. Being involved with the spider allowed him to meet Gwen Stacy, another spider with blonde hair and a pair of blue eyes. A girl who Miles seemed to fall head over heels in such an unbelievably short amount of time. Frequently fonding, talking, and making sketches about her.

“In every universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman.” You wish the universe favoured you like how Miles’ parents clearly favoured you over Gwen the moment she displayed an ill mannered gesture by addressing them by their first names. But at the end of the day, you knew that Mrs. and Mr. Davis would eventually have to come to an acceptance. A nature every parent would have seeing their son being fond of a girl so dearly.

…

You woke up in a dark, cold room. With the flickering of the little light that illuminates the place and the incredibly tense atmosphere surrounding you, you recall the events that previously took place. You arrived back into your dimension. At least you thought you did, as something was incredibly wrong when you saw the figure of Uncle Aaron, well and alive. And something was certainly wrong when you saw the mural of the remembrance of Mr. Jefferson, and beside it was you. You were dead, apparently. The spider that bit Miles wasn’t from your dimension and when it scanned him, you two were sent where the spider was originally from. You didn’t go back home.

You studied the stone cold, dark room, the sense of familiarity creeped up. You recognized that this was Uncle Aaron’s place, where Miles would often go to hang out with his uncle, who he can be himself around with. Your eyes caught the sight of the figure who was tied up against the punching bag. “Miles!” you called, attempting to wake him up from unconsciousness. You were about to approach him when an arm grabbed you all of a sudden, yanking you back gently. Your eyes widened, it was someone in the familiar Prowler suit. However, the height and the figure of the man in the suit tells you that unlike in your dimension, this was not Uncle Aaron. “...Shh, mi querida.” (...Shh, my darling). Your blood turned cold, that voice… no no no. “Let me go!” You managed to let out, your heart beating at a fast rate as you hoped that what you were feeling was wrong. “I’m afraid, I cannot do that.” The alluring voice chuckled so softly. You repeatedly tried pulling back your arm from his grasp. You can’t stay here any longer as danger awaits for Mr. Jefferson and Mrs. Rio. You have to escape with Miles and save them. The hand covered in dark gloves moved towards your cheeks, caressing it. You tried to budge but that moved him to push you towards the table, trapping you in between his arms.

You came back to him and he won’t let you leave ever again.

“W… Who are you?” He adjusted the mask that is covering his face, revealing two long braids, and

“No!” … confirming your suspicion. “I’m Miles Morales. But you… you can call me the Prowler.” Your heart broke at the sight of this Miles. He seems rather solemn, than giving off a bright energy like the Miles you have. And the usual glint in his eyes that makes you melt is missing. They no longer shine. “Miles…” you trailed off. Oh how he missed you calling out his name so captivating. “Soy yo, hermosa.” (It’s me, beautiful.) He responded, eyes not leaving the sight of your beautiful, well built perfect body. You didn’t change, still being the [Name] he loved and believed that he would never stop loving. “Miles, you have to let us go.” You begged. “Why would I do that?” He tilted his head, “It is my job… as the Prowler.” Your eyes widened in epiphany, “There’s a world out there with no Spiderman to protect them because it bit you instead!”. “I am the Prowler because this world offers nothing but agony. It took my dad and it took you from me.” The crack in his voice while mentioning you made your heart drop. Like you and your Miles, he too, had his [Name] and they were also close-

Now you felt your heart being torn apart. The names… the endearing names he has called you!“Now that you’re back, I’ll make sure this time that you’ll never leave.” You turn to look at the burning desire painted deep in his eyes, staring at you. “Hey, bonita…” (Hey, pretty…) He moved his thumb over the corner of your lip, “You never seem to change, do you? … still looking just as pretty as you were the day you left.” His lips curled up into a smirk.

He said the words that would make your heart sing, If only he was the Miles from your world.

“...Please, you have to let us go. He’s needed before anything bad happens to his father.” You whispered weakly. Your heart, your voice, everything wanted to give up but you remained wanting to be strong for both you and Miles, who is not yet awake. Miles’ eyes narrowed while glancing at his other self, he couldn’t hide the envy he was feeling. He let out a hum, turning back to you. “The love you feel for him is deep within your heart. Although he doesn’t bear the same feelings as you do.” Your heart clenched at his words. “If he really did, I would’ve felt him break. The same way I did the day you were gone! But he didn’t feel anything nor spared your mural a glance, instead his gaze was focused on his father.” He knew you were about to break, seeing your glossy eyes. He’d never forgive the other Miles for being the reason for your tears. “Be with me, baby.” He leaned in.

There was the man of your dreams finally kissing you the way you’ve always been wishing to. Your feelings were finally reciprocated. But no, this isn’t the Miles that you grew loving with all your heart. Just another version of him. Warm tears threaten to fall as you grab the back of his head, tracing the pattern of his beautiful braid and the kiss deepens just a few seconds before you pull away. The boy may have the same features as the one you loved, but you remind yourself that he is not your Miles, a heart wrenching reminder that you have to endure as you stay longing for his feelings for you. Hopelessly wishing that your Miles have felt the same way about you as this Miles does.

Because of your strong connection with Miles Morales, you find yourself getting attached, no matter what versions of him. Your heart couldn’t turn away no matter what… Even at the fact that he committed a series of crimes, and is a threat to the city he was fated to be protecting, if it wasn’t for the spider biting your Miles instead of him.

You wanted to mend his broken heart, put the pieces back together. However, you noticed the pattern and it got you asking, “Why has the universe been cruel to you and him?” Both being the reason for each other’s wounded, bleeding hearts.

The tears finally escaped your eyes, He swore they were shining jewels under the moonlight.

“Miles, because of me you changed…” You weakly said, “can feel nothing but hatred in your heart. You’ve caused fear to the innocents!” You two weren’t aware of the previous twitching of the other Miles, tied up. He regained his consciousness, finding you being pinned down by a guy who looks just like him. Guilt consumed him whole as he felt the pit on his stomach watching the other version of him shower you with love and he was not afraid of expressing them at all.

“Why is loving you not fair?” Your voice quavered, exclaiming the words of your weeping heart. He’s come to realize that you’ve had the heart of gold that allowed you to love him unconditionally. But in return, you suffered. The cost of loving him is to suffer immeasurably that you were willing to pay every second.

He couldn’t stomach the way your voice drips with honey as you say his name, “Miles”, while referring to the other version of him.

Maybe his other self is the answer to his confused feelings. Why the memory of his parents gushing at him, telling him how much they would love you as their daughter-in-law is playing on the back of his head while Introducing Gwen to his parents.

…Why your voice, along with your promise of never leaving him, were playing over Gwen’s voice of pleas before snapping her webs off of him.

You don’t know what you’ve done to his heart when you had fearlessly stood up for him, letting him know that he will never be alone when every other spider went against him.

In every universe, Gwen Stacy falls for spiderman. However…

Why [name]?

Why not Gwen?

Is what he finds himself asking all the time.

He sympathises with the broken version of him who lost his version of you. However, Miles could no longer stand the thought of losing you as well. He no longer wanted to waste the chance to be the man you deserve.

Miles wanted to be worthy of the love that is as pure as yours.

His eyes were focused on you two as he activated his electricity powers. Next thing, you felt what seemed like an explosion. As the other Miles gets knocked out from the sudden impact, your Miles swiftly wraps his arm around your waist as he uses his web to open the window and swings both of you out of the building. You look at him, he didn’t utter a word but he was quietly sobbing and swinging past every building at a fast rate.

You landed on a rooftop. You turned to Miles, who was still quiet. “Miles?” You called out to him. He returned your gaze with an equal pained look in his eyes. You were surprised when he suddenly grabbed you and wrapped his arms around you so tightly like you’d disappear.

Your eyes widened as he trembled, “I’m so sorry, [Name]. I truly am. I took you for granted... I’m in love with you, always have.” Your heartbeat quickens while hearing his words, “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you because I didn’t know any better. For Invalidating my feelings because I was confused.” He took your hand, wrapping it with his own, “You were my first love, and everyday I’ll prove that you’re the only one.” You stared at his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity and the fear of losing you. “Let me love you, baby. Please, love me again.” He trailed off, pressing your foreheads together. You brought your arms up to wrap them around his neck as you brought your bodies, pressing tightly against each other’s.

There you are, there you are… always there with open arms. Your pure love is what constantly reminds him why he fell for you.

“I never stopped loving you, Miles.” Both of your hands cupped his cheeks. He leaned in, pressing your lips together. He inserted his tongue inside, deepening the passionate kiss you two shared. He was afraid to let go.

In every universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman. But the universe planned [Name] [Last name] to captivate the heart of Miles Morales.

[teddyeyeseddie]

To Hell I Go

Part Two: With Daddy By My Side

Bull Rider Steve Harrington x Reader

masterlist

warings: alcohol consumption, sexual harassment, general violence

(a/n: when I say I am having the time of my life writing this, I mean it. I have never poured more of myself into something than I have this. Please enjoy and as always feedback is so so encouraged ! thank you @lofaewrites for helping me with this chapter xx)

Now Playing: Open The Gate

Steve wakes the next morning hungover and running late. He throws on the jeans he wore yesterday before shrugging on a denim jacket over a white t-shirt. He pulls on his boots, grabbing his hat off the nightstand and heading downstairs. He's racing down the flight when he hears his dad yell. 

“Come on Steve, I haven’t got all day,” he barks from the porch through the screen door. Steve rushes into the kitchen to pour himself a travel cup of coffee and then he is out the front door, speed walking to his dad’s truck. 

The pair had to drive over to the Bounds residence, the family hosting a meeting about this year's cattle raising and how the families were going to split the revenue. 

The ranch sat on the outskirts of town so any drive into Jefferson was a lengthy one. The bounds lived on the east side of town, an area where the more influential families lived. 

Steve’s dad pulls into the driveway, a large white house with black trim in front of them. It was nice, big, bigger than the ranch house. Steve shakes away his nerves, the feeling in his stomach always spiking every time he has to attend a meeting. Luckily, he knew the Bounds well so it was at least easier to deal with them. 

Richard knocks on the door, waiting for Mr. Bounds to answer the door. Steve and his dad step back when the door opens, Mrs. bounds standing before them. 

“Richard! Steve! It’s so good to see you two, come in!” Mrs. Bounds shouts as she moves to the side to make room for them to peek through the rather large front door. She leads them to the dining room where Mr. Bounds and Jamie are sat. Jamie usually sat in on these meetings, one day he would be taking over the business just like Steve, or so his dad thought. 

The meeting goes off without a hitch, the family splitting the revenue fairly and planning for the next season. Steve and Richard make their way out of the house, his dad actually in a good mood giving how well the meeting went. 

“God I can’t wait to leave this ranch in yours and Jamie’s hands! You guys are going to make a great team,”

Steve sucks in a breath, his nerves back in his belly. Steve Harrington wasn’t afraid of much, his list consisting of spiders and making his dad angry. His dad was keen on teaching Steve lessons when feathers were ruffled, so the idea of telling his dad he was going for nationals again made him sick to his stomach. The car slows once it reaches the corral, his dad pulling beside his beloved K10 he had abandoned last night. 

“Not this year dad,” Steve finally says, hand picking at the frayed edge of his denim jacket. 

“What do you mean not this year?” Richard grits through his teeth. His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel, one hand leaving the wheel to turn off the radio. 

“I’m going for nationals again. Want to beat the all time record, I’m at the top of my game and I can’t stop now Dad,” Steve states confidently, a surge of courage flowing through him as he stands up to his dad. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that this bull riding is a waste of your time! You’re gonna get hurt, better yet you’re gonna get killed,” his dad seethes, knuckles still stark white.

“Dad, I’m good at it! I am the top bull rider in the nation and all you see in me is a brain that can crunch some numbers and a body that can shovel some hay,” Steve begins to raise his voice, swinging the passenger door open, hopping out and marching toward his truck

“Don’t you walk away from me, boy,” his dad yells from the truck, “I am not done discussing this,” 

“Yes dad, we are done discussing this. I’m going to nationals and you can’t convince me to step down. I was made for this, I wasn't made to run around a ranch, I was made to prove that I’m better than my father,” Steve spits, his dad now out of the truck marching towards him. Steve turns on his heels, meeting him halfway in the middle.

“You’re lucky I taught you hard work, you’d be nothing without me, Steve, nothing. I made you,” 

“Get fucked, dad,” 

Steve backs away, climbing into his truck and speeding off. 

He pulls into Goldie Jane’s shortly after his fight with his father, throwing his car in park and rushing inside. After the morning he’s had, he needs a drink. 

He sits at his usual place at the bar, Steve smiling at the newspaper clippings of all of his rides that litter the walls.

“My handsome boy, what brings you in so early. Line dancing doesn’t start for another 2 hours!” Goldie asks as she pours Steve his usual shot of whiskey. Steve says nothing, taking the shot, throwing his head back and downing the alcohol as if it were water. 

“That bad, huh?” Goldie asks, pouring him another shot. 

“You have no idea,” 

That’s where Steve spends his afternoon, talking to Goldie about anything and everything going wrong in Steve’s life.

“You know what you need?” Goldie inquires, smiling widely as she watches people flood the bar, ready for line dancing night. 

“What might that be, Goldie,” Steve has moved to sipping whiskey instead of throwing doubles back, the first few doing a good job at numbing his feelings about his father. 

“You need you a girl. I’d volunteer but I’d break a hip trying to keep up with you,” 

“You know this life’s a lonely one Goldie, don’t think there’s many ladies lining up to take a bull rider home to mommy and daddy,” 

With that, Steve gets up from his place at the bar. The line dancing has begun, loud twangy country music playing throughout the room as patrons make their way out to the main floor to dance. 

Steve simply watches, leaning up against the wall with his legs crossed. He tilts his hat at a few people who stare at him, even snapping a quick picture with Goldie’s husband, albeit his biggest fan. 

He enjoys his time people-watching, chuckling to himself when someone trips over their feet. He sips his whiskey, eyes shooting to the door as it swings open, the bright evening sunset blinding him. When the door finally shuts and Steve’s eyes adjust he is met with another blinding sight. A yellow sundress and white cowboy boots take all of his attention. That’s when he realizes it’s you. The girl he saw at the rodeo, except this time you’re alone. 

You sit at the edge of the bar, Goldie walking towards you and taking your order, a rum and coke. Steve watches you for a moment, admiring the way the strobing lights of the bar illuminate your face with every pulse. He tips his hat to you when you look up and meet his eyes, a smile forming on your face as you tip your fake hat back. 

You’re enjoying being alone, having spent the past few days attending the Summertime Rodeo events with your friends. They were amazing, Robin and Nancy always down to tend to your cowboy loving tendencies no matter how bored they were. You all grew up in Jefferson but Nancy and Robin never saw the hype in the cowboy culture that the town curated. 

But for you, a “yes ma’am” said in the right accent could make you swoon, the tip of a hat could make you blush. You loved every ounce of living in Jefferson, the endless ranch hands at your fingertips made your pick of men quite large. 

But nothing ever sparked with any of them, sure they were all gentlemen but they lacked a certain energy you needed in a man. You eventually gave up, deciding the men in this town were better to look at than to take home. 

You make small talk with Goldie for a while, that is until a large figure looms behind you, blocking the lights from the stage. You turn around and look up, groaning internally when you’re met with Billy Hargrove. Billy was known in town for being a bit rough around the edges. He broke horses for a living, the work leaving his skin tanned and toned. He was handsome, but oh so arrogant. 

“Darlin’ what are you doing here alone?” he rasps, liquor heavy on his breath as he leans over you. 

“Get lost Billy, I’m not in the mood,” you groan, turning back around to face Goldie. 

“Now don’t be like that, pretty thing. I know you like to ride cowboys,” 

“Billy, leave her alone,” Goldie begs, eyes silently pleading with him to not start something. 

“Stay out of this locks,” He waves his hand at her, shooing her away before he turns back to you. 

Steve sees all of this go down, making his way over when Goldie shoots him a look.

“Billy, is there a problem?” Steve questions as he taps him on the shoulder.

Billy turns around, laughing when his eyes meet Steve’s

“Mudslinger, did you come over to get your dick wet too? This one loves us, she’s us cowboys biggest fan,” Billy slurs, barely able to keep himself up. 

In a moment, Billy is on the floor, no one really registering what happened. All they see is Billy on the ground and Steve shaking his hand as he draws in a breath through his teeth. 

Goldie’s husband picks Billy up from the floor, his tail between his legs as he is ushered out of the bar. 

“You okay there, Dandelion?” Steve asks once Billy is gone.

“Dandelion?” you question, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Yellow dress, it fits,” he simply states, pointing at your dress with a smile. 

“Goldie, can you fix him a drink?” you ask, turning back towards her. You motion for Steve to sit down, sliding his drink towards him once he is settled beside you. 

“So what brings you in?” Steve questions, taking a sip of his whiskey. He presses the cold glass to his knuckles, wincing slightly at the contact. 

“Needed a drink after being out in the heat all day,” you state, turning towards him so you could see his features better. His cowboy hat covered his face with a shadow making it hard to really see him, you could make out that he was handsome but that was about it. 

“What about you?” you question. 

“Hard days work is all,” Steve drawls. 

“And work would be..?”

“Ranching. Business meeting about this year's revenue and how we’re splitting shit up, it's boring,” Steve drones, his ill humor in the matter evident in the way he grimaces. 

“I uh- ride bulls though. For actual work, you ever heard of the mudslinger?”

You nod, taking a sip of your drink.

“Heard a little bit about him, heard he’s from around here! I guess he announced the junior awards at the rodeo last night but I couldn’t make it,” you ramble causing Steve to chuckle. 

Steve removes his hat, revealing his face to you. He looks familiar as he looks down at you, his brown eyes boring into yours as you try to place where you’ve seen him. 

That’s when you put the two and two together.

“You’re The Mudslinger? What’s your name, uh sean?” you question, hopeful you got it right. 

Steve chuckles and shakes his head, putting his hat back on. 

“Steve. Harrington.” He sticks his hand out towards you, you take it and firmly shake it. His hands are calloused, the rough skin contrasting the softness of yours. 

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Harrington, care to dance?” you stand from your place at the bar, holding your hand out to him. He takes it, his large hand engulfig your smaller one as you drag him to the dance floor. You both fall in line and begin dancing to some old country song. 

9 to 5 begins to play and Steve groans, line dancing to this song is like running a marathon. But, when he sees the excitement on your face, he decides it's worth it. He would die line dancing if it meant he got to see you smile like that again. 

By the time the song is over, sweat is beading down Steve’s back, his chest heaving from lack of oxygen. You, on the other hand, look like a breath of fresh air, your hair slightly sticking to your face. Steve is pretty sure you were made up in his dreams. 

The two of you make it back to the bar, closing out your tabs before stepping out into the warm summer night. 

“I had a lot of fun with you, mudslinger,” you say, your hand reaching out to grab his. He smiles down at you, taking off his hat, placing it over his heart. 

“I had a lot of fun with you, dandelion. Please don’t break my heart and tell me I can’t see you again,” his voice is like honey, the Texas drawl evident after his several drinks. 

“I’d never,” with that, you put your phone number into Steve’s phone, texting yourself so you could have his number. 

“I’ll be out of town in a few weeks, riding in “The Daddy of em All” out in Cheyenne. Think I could take you out before then?” he questions, hat still covering his heart as he looks down at you. 

“Of course, cowboy,” 

[celesticnova]

Started a LiS fic called Hollow Glow. I have so many LiS fic ideas I want to write, so please let me know if this is one I should continue. If you'd rather read the first chapter here, it's below the cut.

Max Caulfield knew she was a bad person.

It was a fact about herself she hated, but as she didn't bother to make changes, she had no room to complain. Good people didn't pressure their parents into buying hundreds of dollars worth of instant film, or threaten a girl for throwing a roll of toilet paper at their head. Yet Max had done both and more since the start of her tenure at Blackwell. Somehow, the once mousy little girl had become the queen bee of her high school, having other popular girls like Victoria Chase eating out of the palm of her hand.

If she had to pick a day where it all started, it would be the last time she saw her friend Chloe Price. It had been such a special day—They had one last pirate adventure together, only for William and Joyce to walk through the door of the Price household right as they'd uncovered their old time capsule. The four of them had reminisced over Joyce's world-famous salmon surprise, and Max had left with a swollen heart and a promise that they'd be Max and Chloe forever.

Some friend Max had been, utterly failing to keep that promise. Two years later, Chloe had been severely injured in a car accident, and Max still hadn't seen her since that day. A couple of postcards and empty texts were all she had to give for her “BFF.”

It was a lesson she'd learned from her own cowardice—Friendship is fleeting. If she wanted her future friendships to last, she needed to be someone important. And she was. Max was the most important girl at Blackwell, and soon she'd cement that status with her win in the Everyday Heroes contest. She'd get to go to San Francisco with her hero, Mark Jefferson, and show off her photography in an elite art gallery. Her life was about to change for the better.

All that meant now wasn't the time to risk her connections or her status. So when Victoria Chase took a video of Kate Marsh getting black out drunk and kissing half the male population of Blackwell at a Vortex Club party, Max hadn't protested. When Victoria had posted the video online the next morning, Max hadn't protested. When poor Kate became the most ostracized individual at Blackwell to the point her once daily ritual of playing beautiful violin music in her dorm came to a halt… Max hadn't protested.

That was the real reason Max was a bad person. As the queen bee, she could have ordered Victoria to take down that video and save Kate so much grief. But she remained silent, all because she wanted to appear cool and aloof to her friends. Her silence was as damning as it was pathetic.

At the very least, she'd kept her own participation in the harassment to a minimum, and that had kept It from getting too far out of control. But with another Vortex Club party tonight, she knew anything could happen. Especially with Nathan acting so weird.

As though summoned by her thoughts, Max's phone buzzed with a text from Nathan.

Nathan: Yo Max. Youll be at the end of the world party rite?

Of course she would. That was where Mr. Jefferson would announce her victory. She'd told Nathan this many times, but he still kept asking. Max sighed and put her phone back in her pocket without answering.

It was louder than she’d intended, causing the girl next to her on the lawn in front of Blackwell to look up from her own phone with a frown. “You okay, Max?”

Max put on her most convincing smile. “Just thinking about tonight. It’s going to be crazy.”

“Oh, totes.” Victoria grinned. “You're gonna win the Everyday Heroes contest for sure.”

Victoria was one of the best photographers Max knew, so that was enough to make her smile genuine. “If I do somehow lose, it'd better be to you. I won't accept it otherwise.”

Victoria giggled. “Don't worry, girl! You won't lose, not even to me.”

“I know.” It wasn't just bluster backing her words. Mr. Jefferson had been visibly impressed when seeing her picture. She'd been up by the lighthouse during the golden hour when a squirrel ran by. Seeing the opportunity, Max had coaxed it over with a nut. Her other hand had held her camera balanced against her leg, taking the shot of the little critter reaching out for the treat in Max's palm with the sunset behind it. Honestly, it might have been the best photo Max ever took.

One more night, Max thought. After the contest results are announced, I'll ask Victoria to take the video down. Surely she'll be in such a good mood that she won't mind.

The thought made her gut twist. Once again, she was pushing it off. Just like she kept pushing off her visit to Chloe. After all this time, did Chloe even want to see her?

Max's thoughts were interrupted by a scream. Whirling around, she saw Dana Ward staring up at the roof of the Prescott Dormitories, eyes wide and a hand over her mouth. Confused, Max followed her gaze, only for her heart to stop at what she saw.

Kate was standing there, precariously close to the ledge with a look on her face that seemed grim even from Max's position. There was no question of what she was about to do. What Max had helped push her toward.

Max's body was moving before her mind could catch up. Nothing else mattered in that moment, she could not let Kate fall. This was her fucking fault, all because she was too cruel and too cowardly to do the right thing.

Before she knew it, Max had slammed the doors of the dormitory open, flinging herself toward the stairs and taking them two at a time. Not enough. It wasn't enough, dammit! Kate was going to jump any second!

A burning sensation in Max's lungs told her she had stopped breathing. She forced herself to take deep gulps even as her head swam. Passing out before she even reached Kate would be the worst possible outcome.

Before she knew it, Max had made it to the roof. Kate was still there, standing on the edge with her back to Max. The sound of the door opening was enough for her to turn around, eyes widening when she saw who had come up to stop her. Standing there, silhouetted by the setting sun, she looked like a real life angel.

She also looked furious. “What are you doing here, Max!?” she yelled. “Did you want to get a closer look before I jump?”

The air Max had fought to gain seemed to escape her in a rush. “N-No! Kate, please don't do this.”

“Like you care,” she spat. “You didn't care when everyone in the school laughed over my video. You just laughed alongside them!”

“No!” Max felt her heart constrict and clenched her fist in front of it. “I'm sorry, I should've spoken up, but I never laughed at you!”

She dared to take a step forward, only for Kate to step back to nearly dangle off the ledge. Max's heart stopped beating for a few moments.

“Don't move!” Kate shouted. “If you do, I'll jump!”

Max lifted her hands with her palms out. “O-Okay. I'm staying right here. Listen, Kate—”

“No!” If looks could kill, Max would be a smear on the floor. “You were there! You could've helped me! You could've stopped this at any time. But you didn't. I wasn't worth your time.”

Each accusation stung with brutal honesty, and tears began to stream down Max's face. “I know. You're right, Kate. I'm a terrible person, and I understand if you never forgive me. But you're better than I am, and you'll get through this!”

“How!?” For all the pain behind the question, Max could tell it was genuine. “My mom already thinks I've fallen to Satan. Maybe she's right.”

“You were drunk! We all do stupid shit when we’ve had too much to drink.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Kate clenched her fists, but Max could still see them shaking. “I had a single sip of red wine! That's it!” She sobbed. “But I don't remember anything after that. Just a bright room, a soft voice… and a pinch in my neck.”

Max's blood ran cold. She knew what that meant, but she didn't want to believe it. Her lips formed the question regardless. “Were you… drugged?”

Kate hugged herself, tears streaming down her face. “I don't know… but it doesn't matter anymore. I can't wipe my video off the internet, but I can give them something new to gossip about.” She waved an arm toward the crowd below. The commotion had gathered what looked like over half the student body, all staring up at them with bated breath. Fuck, Kate was right, this was a show to them.

There wasn't any time. While Kate glanced at the students below, Max stepped forward, praying the other girl wouldn't notice. “I'll have Victoria take down the video! Everyone will forget!”

Max froze as Kate turned back to her. “They'll never forget. I bet half of them have copies saved for their own amusement. Well, let's see if they'll enjoy it now.”

At that moment, Max knew she couldn't convince Kate. No matter what she said, it would sound empty from her mouth. That was the consequence of her actions. There was only one way to save Kate now.

“Does anyone down there look like they want you to jump?” Her ploy worked, getting Kate to turn her back on Max. In that instant, Max threw herself forward, hand reaching for the girl who deserved so much better.

Kate noticed. She turned around with wide eyes, only to take an immediate step back over the void. A strangled shout escaped Max when she began to plummet, echoed by the kids below.

Still, Max moved. Her upper body hanging over the edge, stomach and legs pressed against the cold stone of the roof as her only support, she grasped Kate’s arm with one hand and her closest hand with the other, her grip surely tight enough to hurt. The halt in momentum made Kate's shoulder pop, but Max would consider it a win if she got out of this with just a dislocated shoulder.

For a moment, Kate swung there, seemingly in shock that she hadn't hit the ground. Then, she looked up, eyes wide as saucers meeting Max's own.

“What are you doing!? Let go of me!”

“No!” Max planted her feet against the ground and dug her heels in as best she could. Already, she could feel herself sliding forward. “I'm sorry, Kate. I wish I knew what to say, but I can't let you die!”

“Why!?” The demand was more sob than word.

Max could feel her grip slipping. She gasped and tightened it, digging nails into Kate's skin. “Kate… I wish I was more like you. You're kind to everyone you meet, even the bullies. Your violin playing is beautiful, and you have real respect for your religion instead of just using it as a moral clutch. You're beautiful, and smart, and… so much better than me. I know you'll do amazing things someday, you just have to live!”

“Max…” Kate's voice was soft. “I'm so sorry. You have to let go or you'll fall too. I'm… glad you told me that. I can go peacefully now. Thank you.”

No, no! Max refused to let this happen. Shaking her head, she pulled with renewed fury, finally managing to lift her arms and bring Kate closer.

“Max!”

“I've got you!” Max was finally able to get a grip on Kate's shirt, heaving her up and over the roof to safety. “I've—”

She shouldn't have let her guard down. With all her focus on pulling Kate up, she hadn't paid any attention to her own precarious position. The same force that pulled Kate up worked against Max, pulling her forward until her legs flipped over the rampart. Before Max even realized what was happening, she was in the air, plummeting toward the hard ground below.

A chorus of screams rose from the students below, but none were louder than Kate's. At the last moment, Max looked up to see the sheer horror on Kate's face. A small, nonsensical part of Max wondered if Kate saw an equal amount of terror on hers.

Dead. She was dead. Time seemed to slow as she fell, her mind so overcome with despair that she almost couldn’t think. Everything she had worked for her whole life—all of it had amounted to nothing. Max found herself wishing she had made so many different decisions. To stay a shy hipster nerd, to never lose touch with Chloe, to be there for Kate when she needed a friend. Wrong choice after wrong choice had led Max here, to die young and be forgotten. It wasn’t fucking fair!

Later, she would learn how miraculous her survival was. Her legs would take the brunt of the impact, shattering to the point she could never walk again. But she would live, against all odds. She would be granted the second chance she didn’t deserve.

Max didn’t know that now. Her death seemed all but certain. Tears trailing down her cheeks, heart feeling like it had already stopped, Max squeezed her eyes shut and waited for oblivion. Wanting her last thoughts to be pleasant ones, she pictured a young girl with strawberry blonde hair. Her best friend, her captain. If they ever met again, Max swore she would be a better friend.

Darkness claimed her.

[stedefxckingbonnet]

requests info/intro!

hi, everyone!

i thought i'd take a quick second to introduce myself and to also formally open up requests. i'm already working on a few things, but requests really do always help and feel free to submit them at any point--but, we'll get to all of that in a moment!

my name is lavinia, and i am a uni student studying both theatre (dramaturgy specifically) and creative writing! i love to sing, act, write (obviously haha), read (i am a huge fan of classic literature, as well as donna tartt, mona awad, sally rooney, elif bautman, and ottessa moshfegh's works), go to concerts, go to the movies, style/design clothing, paint, collect records/cds, and so much more! this barely scratches the surface really but, if any of you share these interests, always feel free to reach out!

anyhow, as i said, i will officially be opening requests, and at the moment here is the media and the characters i will write for:

Our Flag Means Death

Izzy Hands (my BELOVED)

Ed Teach

Stede Bonnet

Lucius Spriggs

Jim Jimenez

Oluwande

Mary Bonnet

(more available upon request! these were just sort of my first instincts.)

Gilmore Girls

honestly, i'm pretty open to anything unless it's dean. just request and i'll see what i can do!

Gossip Girl

Blair Waldorf

Serena Van der Woodsen

Dan Humphrey

Nate Archibald

Chuck Bass (like sometimes)

Rufus Humphrey

more available upon request.

The Fosters/The Good Trouble

Callie Adams Foster

Mariana Adams Foster

Brandon Foster

Jamie Hunter

Gael Martinez

Dennis Cooper

Malika Williams

more available upon request.

Select Wes Anderson and Tim Burton characters. just ask!

Enola Holmes

Enola Holmes

Tewkesbury

Sherlock Holmes

Little Women (2019)

Jo March

Amy March

Beth March

Meg March

Laurie

Friedrich Bhaer

Star Wars

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Anakin Skywalker

Padmé Amidala

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Leia Organa

Kylo Ren

Finn

Poe Dameron

Ahsoka Tano

more available upon request!

Pride & Prejudice (2005)

Basically me just saying I'll write Mr. Darcy. but more characters available upon request, of course.

Community

Abed Nadir

Troy Barnes

Annie Edison

Jeff and Britta I'm a little iffy on but with the right request, maybe. don't hesitate to ask!

The OC

Seth Cohen

Ryan Atwood

Summer Roberts

Marissa Cooper

The Umbrella Academy

Klaus

Viktor

Ben

Five

Diego

Allison

Luther is like, not preferred for me but if you feel strongly about him and have a good request, i’ll consider it but don’t get your hopes up too high!

Once Upon a Time

Emma Swan

Regina Mills

Killian Jones

Neal Cassidy

August Booth

Jefferson (The Mad Hatter)

Mulan

Ruby Lucas (Red Riding Hood)

Belle French

Mary Margaret Blanchard (Snow White)

David Nolan (Prince Charming)

Peter Pan

Robin Hood

Any others, feel free to ask! I know I left Mr. Gold (Rumple) off, but that's only because it depends with each request. Also, please specify if you want it to take place in Storybrooke pre or post curse, or in The Enchanted Forest.

Merlin

Merlin

Arthur

Gwen

Morgana

Nimueh

Lancelot

any others, feel free to ask. i am just starting S2, keep that in mind.

The Holdovers

Angus Tully

Dead Poets Society

Todd Anderson

Neil Perry

Knox Overstreet

Charlie Dalton

Steven Meeks

Love Lies Bleeding

Lou Langston

Jackie Cleaver

i'll just start there for now, as honestly it's been a bit since i've written an x reader and i don't want to overwhelm myself much! but please, feel free to request at any time! I will update this frequently, as I am always either getting into new things or remembering things I already love. I am mostly dedicated to OFMD right now, but you may also leave requests for other fandoms and I will keep them on file, or who knows, perhaps even get to them sooner than you may imagine! Have a wonderful day (or night!), and don't forget to request!

yours truly,

lavinia

me filing through all of your requests (hopefully!)

[ediqn]

hcs for dating justin jefferson ✰ ✰

not my gif !

a/n: this is my first post/headcanon ever !! im in desperate need of tips/help, so if u have experience with writing or have advice just lmk !

warnings: none !

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

justin loves you with every bone in his body istg

like he never gets tired of thinking abt u, talking abt u, etc.

whenever he’s with friends or teammates and ur not around he talks abt u the whole time

“oh yea, me and y/n did that yesterday”

“me and y/n wanna go there, what y’all think abt that place?”

i also think justin is a very private person so he wouldn’t talk about u in interviews much or post u that much either

but i promise when u guys are together he loves on u so much

on the topic of that i could see justin being clingy at times

and not like all the time its more like 60/40 bc hes obviously a busy person

justin has definitely asked u to 1v1 him or have catching competitions with

and with justin being competitive (i assume) hes so determined to win even tho both of u know hes gonna win anyway

but if he ever does lose he doesnt even get mad

“i play in the nfl, this loss aint nothing to me!”

when yall go on dates most of them are pretty fun like a fair or an arcade

but once in a while yall do go on dates to like nice restaurants and stuff like that

when yall have been home all day yall definitely do wind down nights

and do night/morning routines together every night/morning

y’all take baths, do face masks, play games, etc.

and u definitely put him on with a good skincare routine.

“what you got on my face right now?”

“why is it tingly? am i allergic?”

“justin chill out, its supposed to do that.”

on the topic of night and morning i think justin is a night person

he just likes the thoughts of late night talks with you or late night drives

and when yall eventually do go to bed hes always cold

at one point he wanted to sleep with separate blankets bc he likes to wrap himself up in a blanket and pile more on top

but hes adjusted to sharing one blanket but u still both use separate ones as well

and this also makes me think he a blanket higher

and for some odd reason i think he sleeps with no pillows

like its his head on just the mattress

and for these reasons he physically cannot be a cuddler at night

but u and justin love each other so much and will definitely be together for a longgggg time

[broskiblurbs]

Our Envious Forthcomings (A Peter Parker FanFiction)

A/N: This a part two from Our Envious Forthcomings requested by @kyllium It's shorter than part one, but I hope it's just as enjoyable.

Words: 1,737

Summary: How will Flash feel when he finds out you're actually getting along with Peter Parker?

Disclaimer: Mild cussing

------------------------------------------------------------------------

There were many things Y/N L/N disliked, but not for the reasons people would be quick to assume. Your peers always thought you were used to getting your way, therefore you must be a spoiled brat that must have perfection. They couldn’t be further from the truth. You hated tight clothes, since your skin could never properly breathe in them. Somedays, you try to sneak a pair of sweatpants on, but never succeed. Your mom was always there to say, “No, no, honey. You must always be camera ready.” Then, you have to march right back to your room and put something “Mom approved” on. 

Another thing you hated was gym class. Of course you had to go to the gym regularly per Mom’s orders, but the class itself was different entirely. You had gym right in the middle of your day, so that meant you had to take your clean clothes off, change into athletic wear, get all sweaty, and then, put back on your normal clothes. You always felt so sticky and gross afterwards in your fresh clothes, making them no longer, well, fresh. Okay, maybe, it wouldn’t be as bad if you lived a normal lifestyle, but come on, they have to give you credit. No one likes feeling sweaty with a chance of a shower nowhere in sight. It would be better if they at least allowed headphones.

Loud and crowded places were something else you despise deeply. Some would think you would be used to it, but it never gets better. Sometimes, you have to take a deep breath and find your way out of the cluster of people before you suffocate. It’s even worse when screaming children are involved. Your mom always says you’re just overreacting and that you have to get used to it, but she doesn’t see the panic in your eyes or just how shaky your breathing becomes. You love your mom, and you know she loves you, but she never understood you.

There was one thing you hated more than anything else: fame. You never could understand how people could long for something that quite literally destroyed your childhood. You remember begging your parents to go to the ice cream truck with the other kids, but the answer was always “no.” It was first about being late for different lessons, then it became about appearances, well for your mom, anyway. Your father never cared. He believed you should be young for as long as you should be, but thanks to Hollywood, he’s not around often. Even when he is home, it’s not much different. Once he finally gets around to spending time with you, his fans are lining up around the block for his autograph, picture, and a hug. Fans get more hugs than you do, and that makes you bitter. 

“Hey, Y/N, over here!” Your friend, Violet, called out. You head over to the lunch table with your hands tightly around your backpack straps. 

As you take out your lunch, Flash throws his meal on the table and says, “Gosh, I fucking hate American Histroy.”

“Well, American History hates you,” you respond and everyone looks at you. “I can see it now. Thomas Jefferson writing the Declaration of Independence. ‘All men are created equal, except for Flash Thompson.’” You laugh at your own joke, but everyone stays silent, looking at you as if you had grown a third eye. You awkwardly clear your throat and look down at the table. 

As Flash explains how much he hates working with Ned Leeds, you drift into your own thoughts. Why couldn’t you keep your mouth shut? Just for once, could you let something normal slip out your mouth? You’re not funny. No one wants to hear your lame jokes. They just want your company, because your dad is rich and famous, which makes you rich and famous, and they hope that would make them rich and famous. You wish you could hide in a corner and hide. It would be less embarrassing than this. A ding from your phone interrupts your worries.

“You look miserable.”

You turn your head and meet his eye. Peter Parker. Your partner for the American History project that Flash was dragging on about. When you found out Peter was going to be your partner, well, you didn’t know how you felt. A part of you was upset because then he wouldn’t be just some guy you like watching from afar. Another part was exciting for the same reason. Something about him piqued your interest. You weren’t quite sure what it was. Perhaps, it was the way he furrowed his eyebrows when he was so focused on a chemical equation. Maybe it was because freshman year, he helped another student pick up his books after a bully knocked them out of his hands. It could be because in some weird way, you saw a part of yourself in him. Someone who you wish you could be. 

When you and Peter officially met for the first time to work on the project, he didn’t fancy you at all. He was under the impression that you were a spoiled brat that took everything for granted. Maybe, he was right. Maybe, you did. As much as you cursed your upbringing, at least you didn’t have to worry about if you had enough money for school clothes, or if you were going to be shoved into a locker before it even hit first period. At least, you had people to call Mom and Dad. Parents that, in their strange way, love and care for you. You don’t even think you could survive a day as Peter Parker. Perhaps, you were one of the world’s favorites.

“That’s because I have you as a partner,” you type out, as a joke, of course. It would be pretty harsh if you meant it seriously. Wait, he might not know you’re just kidding. He’ll probably get super upset. Besides, the world has had enough of your “jokes” for one day. You take a deep breath and hit the backspace to start a new, more appropriate, message.

You: I’m okay, thanks. 

You weren’t sure if that was any better. If anything, it sounded super awkward. Maybe you should have put some emoji to sound less tense. Why were you overthinking this so much? It’s just a text message to your class partner. 

Peter: Are you sure? If Flash is deciding my nerdiness is rubbing off on you and planning your demise, I can come save you. Lol.

You turn your head in his direction once more, and he gives you a silly wink. You can’t help but giggle at his dorkiness. Sure, you and Peter had a rough start, but now, it seems like it never happened. Whenever you can, the two of you work on the project, or say that’s what you’re doing, anyway. Recently, it’s more of you guys goofing off than actually working. Sometimes, you feel like he’s the only one that truly understands you. You couldn’t quite explain it. It seems strange since you two only started to get to know each other a couple of months ago.

“Uh, hello? Earth to Y/N?” Violet waves her hand in front of your face. 

As she reels you back in, you respond, “I’m sorry, what?” 

“Don’t tell me that you’re actually enjoying your time with penis brain over there,” Flash laughs, then everyone else follows. Really, they laugh at this, but not your Thomas Jefferson joke?

“So what if I am, Flash? Is it a crime to get to know my partner, Peter Parker?” Suddenly, the lunch table is so quiet, you could hear someone from the next table take a bite out of their apple. Everyone shares the same look as those words fall from your lips. Disgust.

“Come on, Y/N. You’re joking, right? You’re so much better than him-”

“Why? Because of my dad? Because I have so much money?” You interrupt. You hear your peers gasp. “Well, news flash, I’m not. He’s actually a really great person. Just because he’s not as privileged as us, doesn’t mean he is a free punching bag.”

“Fine, be friends with the freak then. Just know that just makes you a freak by association,” Flash spits. You feel hot tears try to escape your eyes.

“At least I will have a real friend,” you bite back. No one interjects on your behalf, which shouldn’t surprise you. “You all disgust me.” You storm off from your peers.

You run to your locker to grab to touch up your ruined make-up. Always have to be camera ready, the words of your mom ring through your hand as your shaky hand tries to mask the earlier events. Just as you were finishing up, you heard a knock outside of your locker. You scramble to put your belongings back in place and get your backpack ready for the next class. You close your locker to find Peter Parker on the other side.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks, empathically. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You flash him a very practiced, fake smile.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” 

“Pretend.” He uses his finger to clean up some smudged eyeliner you missed. “I know what happened with Flash.”

“How?” He points to his ear, then you remember that he has heightened senses. “Can spiders even hear that well?”

“I guess. It’s only if I focus hard enough. It is kind of weird.” He chuckles. “In all realness, thank you. You didn’t have to stand up for me like that.

“It was the right thing to do.” You start to head to your next class, but Peter stops you.

“Still, it meant a lot to me.” He rubs the back of his neck, anxiously. “Uh, did you maybe want to go to the Tower after school today?”

“To work on the project? I think we deserve a break, we are already ahead-”

“No,” he interjects. “I mean to just hang out.”  He’s standing on the balls of his feet, waiting for an answer. Your face brightens at the invite,

“Yeah, sure. That sounds like a lot of fun,” you respond. You just miss the hit of red in his cheeks.

“Great!” He gleefully heads to class, but not without saying, “By the way, I thought your Thomas Jefferson joke was amazing.”

[sanvitheartificer]

So I recently watched Hamilton for the first time on screen. The first time I saw it was actually in person, and tbh I don't recommend it, because I couldn't parse all the lyrics in the moment and couldn't see the choreography and expressions. It's actually an extremely good musical and story?? The music itself is very good and the character arcs are really, really well-plotted and anyway I get the hype more now. I've spent the last few weeks reading a fuckton of old fic, it's been fun and I've enjoyed it.

And I have SO many thoughts about Hamilton and about history and fandom and stuff >:3

Here's my mini-outline for this post:

>my understanding of historical realities

>how that relates to the choices made to frame Hamilton the way it's framed

>how that relates to the modern fandom

>sidetrack into fic that's about reincarnation and some technical problems with that

>fic idea that I'll never ever write

1. My understanding of Hamilton, the actual historical figure, is that he, like the rest of the founding fathers, was not incidentally or casually supporting slavery and other kinds of injustice. That was the POINT of the Revolution. I am so, so so very far from an expert, but I did take this really interesting class that talked about how there were essentially three parties in the American Revolutionary War: there were rich British people, there were rich American people, and there were poor American people. And the rich American people won.

My understanding of the reason for the infamous debt plan is BECAUSE it basically allowed rich people to be the creditors and collect interest, maintaining a social order in which rich people stayed rich and poor people stayed poor. Like, look at it this way: rich people lend money to the American government, poor people are taxed and therefore pay the interest on those loans, keeping them poor; rich people become invested in the success of the government, staying in power in the government, making money off poor people. It's very clever! It's also not something that I personally find admirable. 2.

I think that it is FASCINATING to look at how successful Hamilton has been. To be clear: I really enjoy the story, I find it incredibly well written and just fun. And I think part of the reason I find it easy to love is because it is in many ways about white people, telling familiar stories.

It's a story featuring actors of color, and it SAYS things about and to the experiences of people of color. But it's in large part a story about historical rich white people. I have done no research, but the only line I can think of offhand that's even directly to a historical person of color is Jefferson going “Sally be a dear put my bag down” once. She doesn't get a line, if I'm remembering correctly, just nods.

In some ways, Hamilton kind of feels like it says, “Look, people of color can have the same kind of stories that rich white people can have!” (which, to be clear, I would LIKE to be more of a thing.) To be even more ungenerous, it feels in some ways like that age-old tradition of rich people escaping the stigma of being rich by pretending they're poor, or white people in blackface. Like, sure, we'll have characters of color, but only if they're telling white stories. Only if whiteness is still centered.

And, of course, it's very much a story about social advancement and a person who starts out poor becoming rich, which is another beloved archetype that is increasingly impossible in the real world. You get to see the same capitalist story of “poor person pulling himself up by his bootstraps” but with trappings of liberal progressiveness.

Which is an excellent recipe for success, because it removes some of the stigma of enjoying that kind of story, and also genuinely allows people of color to relate in real ways to a story that historically DOES NOT make room for them in that way. Hits a lot of audiences.

I do not think Hamilton would have been commercially successful if it was about Sally Heming's story. And I don't think most audiences would enjoy it as much, because the story of “this person was personally impacted by injustice for their entire life and was not able to escape it in a big dramatic scene” is not really as easy to watch? Like stories of resilience can be so, so impactful, but. I do not think they're as fun or compelling as “this person pulled themself up and changed everything!” for me personally, most of the time. 3.

The fandom absolutely echoes all that nonsense, because fandom also centers whiteness, like, almost exclusively – at least the fandoms I've been in, and I admit that's probably in part because my tendency is 100% to center white rich voices and to enjoy those familiar stories. But it's also like... not hard to find those stories, even if it weren't my tendency. I trip over them; I don't have to try. It's way harder to find stories that don't center whiteness.

And I wonder for myself, like, what do I do about that? There's books and stories out there about Sally Hemings, I'm sure, but I haven't read them, and I don't really want to. I like the fantasy world of fandom where Alexander Hamilton is a 20-something extremely liberal trans guy from the Caribbean.

I don't think the solution is “be ashamed of what you like” but I don't think it's really enough to be like “be aware that what you like is primarily centering white capitalist rich propaganda”, either. I mean, awareness is great, but it doesn't FEEL like it's enough.

Maybe it's “cultivate an appreciation for stories that don't center whiteness and richness”?? And not in a homework kind of way or “go track down 20 documentaries about slavery” but in a way where it's like, recognize that the kinds of stories that you like and find fun to watch/read/listen to can absolutely be written without centering whiteness/richness. It would be HARD to hit some of the same narrative beats of inspiration that Hamilton hits in a Sally Hemings musical, but hell, I don't think it would be impossible to do that. (Obviously the story would not be the same, and it shouldn't be, but I'm just saying that stories of people oppressed by unjust systems can still be inspirational and fun! they don't always have to be tragedies!) It may even be out there and I just don't know it.

I think right now, Sally Hemings: The Musical would not be commercially successful, even if it DID hit the same narrative beats as Hamilton. Because it's too threatening to tell that story, in a lot of ways. But that's what I would like to do. Work towards a world where A. racism and poverty don't fucking exist and B. fandom and mass media are less racist and classist and etc.

….I'll go into fic ideas in a new post, since this feels like a complete thought for now.

[skalidra]

Fic Writers Showcase Game

@there-must-be-a-lock tagged me!

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.

~~

First fic published on Ao3: That would be The Other Side of the Mirror, an Earth-3 continuity mess with a JayDick main pair, featuring Roy as a 3rd PoV. First chapter was posted in September, 2014, currently 200k, 20 chapters , and as of yet unfinished, though I think as it stands it ends on a decently hopeful note. I do still recall the main plot points of where it goes, and would like to finish it someday.

Last fic published: I posted the first chapter of Five Finger Discount just yesterday, which is the 5th piece in my Worth Counting series, an alpha!Slade/alpha!Jason series exploring a variety of kinks but with a focus on non-formal dom/sub vibes, competence/strength kink, and mostly-play fighting. (The last finished story was Shifting Into Fourth which is the 4th piece of that same series, so, I'm a little bit on a theme here.)

Fandom/ship I only wrote once: I uh. I wrote Hamilton/Jefferson/Madison room-where-it-happens porn. For the Hamilton musical. It's called Do Whatever It Takes and I think it is still the thing that makes me feel the most sinfully dirty of all the things I've ever written. So there's that.

I also have Let's Be Clear, which is my only fic set anywhere in the MCU, and is a Daredevil oneshot of an asexual!Wesley being invited to join a Fisk/Vanessa relationship, as I vibed real hard with Wesley as a character and never really got over his unfortunate demise.

(Honorable mention to my four stories that are technically fandoms of their own, but all fall under the 'DCU' umbrella, being for the Arkham games, two shows in the CW Arrowverse, and the Teen Titans cartoon.)

Favorite fic in most popular fandom/ship: This is a little hard to quantify. Technically 'DCU (Comics)' comes in at 93k in stories, which would make JayDick the most popular pairing, which makes my favorite story Captain's Privileges. It's a Star Trek mirror!verse fusion with Captain!Dick and Engineer!Jason and so many unhealthy relationships everywhere, and I love it.

However! 'DCU (Comics)' is a very broad umbrella and it's not really fair to say it's my biggest fandom, since the slice I belong to is much smaller. Which means the more accurate winner is Voltron, at 85k stories. I technically have a Klance story but given that it is a big poly clusterfuck dark!fic I really have to actually give this to the second most popular pairing by stat, Sheith. Out of those, I think my favorite is I'm Not That Man, which was an early false-memories/brainwashed!Shiro fic set just before the wormhole split them all up.

Fic I wish more people read: An Extra Shot, hands down. Come read my gen, Wilson-family-focused exploration of what happens if Adeline dies during the attack on Joey! Come read Slade Wilson being forced into confronting the fact that he is a terrible dad and also now a widowed dad of three kids! Come read Billy trying his best to bludgeon all the terrible communicators of this family into actually working things out! READ THIS. THERE'S A SEQUEL IN PROGRESS. IT'S GOOD I SWEAR.

Fic that was hardest to write: I think the award for this has to go to Me, Not Her, a CaptainPan/CaptainSwan piece which I was apparently so frustrated with at some point that I straight up deleted the file. Four years later (no I am not kidding) I had the vague memory of it. Some sketchy thing I could maybe expand, now that I was having thoughts about OUaT again. I pull it out of the (then eternal) trash of Google Drive. It is five thousand words long and needs no more than pretty basic editing and a little padding at the end to round it off. I don't know what the hell was happening with me when I deleted it, but wow, lesson learned.

Fic that popped out fully-formed: I don't recall any that were explicitly like this, but I also don't tend to write like, neat little packaged stories all that often. If I'm writing oneshots they're usually for events. So my best answer to this is probably Fucking Androids? It's a Reed900 relationship origin story that blazed its way out of me during NaNoWriMo one year, named entirely for the sex pun and then in the end absolutely refusing to have any sex in it, so it won that fight. I remember at least most of it coming really, really easy.

Fic I'm proud of: Pulling out a weird little one, here. I'm going to say Take a Ride. It's a JayDick, Gotham City Garage story that I wrote for Firefright's birthday one year, and on reread I actually still really, really like it? It's just a neat apocalyptic-desert vibe relationship building thing, set in the criminally under-explored and rushed GCG world, and I really like how I put Dick together in this one. I recommend it.

~~

Not tagging anyone specific, but if anyone would like to do this as well, feel free!

[mizusswordtip]

Down The Rabbit Hole ⚝ Killian Jones x Reader (25)

find the story on wattpad

summary: Alice's plan to overthrow the Queen of Hearts is thwarted by a dashing pirate with a hook. Years later, after the curse is broken, they reunite once again.

masterlist

The sound of metal hitting metal was wearing thin ten minutes ago. Emma brings the sword back to hit the bars once more and I consider standing in the way. Just to make the noise stop.

"We aren't going to break it down, Emma. It was enchanted to hold Rumpelstiltskin. We don't have a chance." Thankfully Snow's words make her stop. A defeated look comes across Emma's face as she slides down the wall next to me. We all sit in silence for a minute, coming to terms with the situation. Well, at least the others are. I've been staring at the same spot for ten minutes, unmoving, and unable to speak.

"This is my fault." Aurora breaks the silence, voice wrought with guilt.

"No, it's mine. Cora stole your heart because I failed to protect you." Mulan chimes in just as defeated as the rest.

"That's very sweet, but I believe it's my fault. I'm the savior and I'm not doing much saving, am I?" Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the devastation on Emma's face. I can't say I blame her. She'll die in this cell, unable to see her son ever again.

"I know how you feel." I say, soft enough that I'm not even sure she can hear me. "Being told who you are and what you're supposed to do, only to fail at every turn." I add. I think back to the prophecy Jefferson had told me about. How so many people in Wonderland had risked their lives and sacrificed themselves so I could defeat Cora. But I keep failing. I wish Jefferson were here now.

"I guess we have something in common then." She responds back under her breath. I shake my head and stand up abruptly.

"Something's not right though." I voice my thoughts out loud, pacing back and forth.

"Obviously. We're trapped in a cell." She says in a monotone voice. I let out a frustrated sigh.

"No, I mean with Rumpelstiltskin. He may be a lot of things, a liar included, but he's never wrong." I say, talking to myself out loud. He led us here. Did Cora really outsmart The Dark One?

"You think he's working with Cora? To trap us here?" Mulan asks and I shake my head immediately.

"No. I doubt even The Dark One wants anything to do with her." I answer. I keep trying to wrap my head around it but I can't. He led us here to find squid ink. He had to have known that there wouldn't be any left. So why?

"It's possible he thought there was ink in here and was mistaken." Snow offers and I shrug off that response as well.

"Does that sound like him?" I ask with an incredulous expression.

"No. It doesn't." Her brows furrow, her face becoming just as confused as my own. I keep pacing for a while before I remember something. My heart lurches hopefully.

"Oh my god." I say, a slow grin coming over my face.

"What?" Emma looks at me as though I've lost my mind.

"When I was in Wonderland, as a little girl, Cora had cast a spell on me. One to make me grow after I had drank a potion that made me shrink!" I exclaim but she just shakes her head, not following my line of thought.

"Okay..." She trails off. The others look to her for answers but she just shrugs her shoulder.

"Where are you going with this?" Snow asks.

"Let me see that scroll." I reach my hand towards Emma impatiently. She furrows her brows but reaches into her jacket regardless.

"This one? I've already looked at every inch. There's only my name, let alone a spell." I take the scroll from her, unwinding it to look at the neat hand writing once again with a grin.

"You're a genius, Alice!" Snow stands and looks just as elated. Emma looks to her, confused. "When I was a little girl I used to sneak into Cora's chamber and watch her practice magic. She had a spell book and, Emma, the spells were in the book." She explains but Emma doesn't seem to understand still.

"Yeah, isn't that what a spell book is? A book that has spells in it?" She asks, gesturing sarcastically with one hand.

"Just watch." I say and face the cell. I hold the paper out in front of me with shaky hands, trembling with hope and excitement. I blow softly on the scroll, just as I had seen Cora do to me. Then it happens, the ink from the page lifts and turns into a small black cloud of smoke.

"Squid ink! Gold wrote the scroll in squid ink!" Emma practically shouts, springing up from where she's seated. I blow the small cloud towards the bars and they dissipate before our eyes.

"Let's go home." I say softly, matching Emma's grin with one of my own. She gives me a thankful smile. We go to leave but Aurora stops us.

"Wait! I can't go, you have to tie me up." She lingers in the cell, unwilling to put us at risk again.

"No, I'm not leaving without you." Mulan protests, stepping towards her to get her to follow us.

"I can't be trusted. Not as long as Cora has my heart." Aurora pleads.

"She's right. Besides, she'll be safer here, away from Cora." I tell Mulan. She looks over at me in consideration for a moment before nodding her head.

"Then I will get it back for you." Mulan says and I feel my heart warm at her words. It's clear that Mulan's feelings for Aurora run far deeper than just friendship. It must be nice to have someone who cares about you so deeply.

"Mulan..."

"I will." She reassures with an air of finality.

"Mulan. We gotta go." Emma says.

"Do it." Aurora demands and Mulan finally relents. She ties her to the bars gently, Aurora's hands behind her back.

"Good luck." Aurora tells us before we take off running.

We arrive at the portal just in time to see Cora and Hook holding onto the compass, ready to take the plunge into StoryBrooke. Snow knocks an arrow and sends it flying, thrusting the compass out of their grasps. They look up, shock apparent on both of their faces. I smirk slightly at the small victory.

"You're not going anywhere!" Snow shouts.

"This portal's taking us home." Emma's voice is hardened. Her tone reminiscent of when we fought the dragon together. God, that feels like years ago now.

"I'll grab the compass! You distract Cora!" I shout, running to where the compass had landed. Hook prepares his rapier when he sees me heading for him.

"What about Hook?" Emma shouts in concern from behind me.

"I can handle him!" I shout, not bothering to turn to look at her as I face off with Hook who smirks at me. I draw my sword and get into a fighting position.

"Can you, Love?" He goads but I don't let him get to me. Not now. Not when I'm so close.

"You're about to find out." I take the first swing, which he blocks with ease. The second swing I take leaves his torso open so I kick him away from me. He grunts but the kick doesn't deter him one bit. He brings his sword down, putting me on defense now. He twists his blade, ripping the Vorpal sword out of my hand.

I know it would be stupid to go to grab it so I lunge at him instead. I kick him once again but he must have anticipated it and grabs my foot and pulls. I fall back into the sand hard, hitting my head. I feel my vision go black for a moment but I go to grab my sword but he still has a hold on my foot, dragging me out of arms reach.

Then all the fighting stops as we all watch in horror as Aurora's heart goes flying in the air, heading directly for the portal. Hook lets go of me, leaning over the portal and catching the heart with his hook. I get up while he's distracted, picking my sword up. He throws the heart to Mulan who looks at him in confusion.

"I may be a pirate but I bristle at the thought of a woman losing her heart." He shrugs arrogantly before looking back to me with a smirk. "Unless it's over me." I ignore him and turn my back to him.

"Go!" I shout to Mulan.

"No, you need the compass!" She protests but I shake my head with a reassuring smile.

"And Aurora needs her heart." I say and she looks at me with a genuine grin before taking off. I turn back to face Hook, who apparently didn't have it in him to literally stab me in the back.

"Well, it looks like you found your conscience again." I say sarcastically and he shrugs.

"I didn't. I just like a fair fight." And without any further words he brings his sword down against mine once again. He's moving much faster this time and I do my best to keep up. He swings, spinning in a circle in an impressive move that I barely manage to block. I push back against him but he just gets closer.

"You've gotten better since we last met. But you still can't best me." He says and I feel his foot maneuver behind mine, lifting it so he can grab it with his Hook. I fall back to the ground with a frustrated groan. I hold my sword out but he manages to trap my sword between his blade and his Hook. He looks at me with an unreadable expression. He kneels down, sliding both his blades against mine until his face is all too close to my own.

I can feel it, digging into my back and I fight the urge to grin. I put on the best defeated face I can manage, reaching underneath me with my free hand.

"I don't want to have to kill you, Alice. But with my life on the line you've left me no choice. You might as well quit now, and I'll spare you the pain of my blade." He tells me cockily. I grin when I feel my hand wrap around the cool metal of the compass. He raises a brow at my smiling face, confused by my change in attitude.

"Why quit? When I've already won?" I gloat, showing the compass. He looks at it in shock so I take the opportunity to kick him much harder than I had before. He stumbles back with a yell and I jump to my feet. I strike before he can gather his baring. He continues to block my attacks but I keep them coming with a renewed vigor. Eventually, I let him think he's gained the upper hand. Using his blade to stop me from swinging. "You chose the wrong side, love." I spit out and bring my non sword hand and crack it against his cheek as hard as I can. The effect is immediate. His body goes limp as he falls to the ground.

I grin in triumph before turning around to see Emma and Snow still struggling with Cora. I bring my sword up and fearlessly approach Cora. She turns, catching sight of me and grins, making my skin crawl.

"Oh, dear Alice. You really think you can defeat me? After all this time?" She taunts. Emma and Snow attempt to run towards her from behind but she throws them back with a wave of her hand.

"Enough." I say coldly before swinging at her but just as I anticipated, she disappears into a ring of smoke. I immediately, without looking behind me, swing my sword back and I grin when I feel it impact. I turn to find Cora clutching her arm where I had sliced her.

"You insolent little girl!" She shouts through gritted teeth.

"Woman." I correct before swinging once more. This time when she disappears, she reappears a little farther away, holding Hook's limp body up as a shield. My heart picks up speed, hesitating to attack now.

"What are doing?" I ask venomously. She simply grins and instead of answering me, she rips out his heart. He drops to the ground and I feel all the air leave my lungs.

"Drop the Vorpal sword or else my dear friend here will die." She threatens, holding out the heart for me to see and squeezing it lightly. I clench my jaw at the sight. Hook doesn't even twitch whenever she squeezes.

"You think I care whether he lives or dies? He made his bed. Twice." I say, knowing in my heart I don't mean it, even though I should.

"Very well." She says simply and begins to squeeze with no sign of stopping this time. I grip my sword tighter, knowing that without my sword she'll win. Then I look over at Hook's defenseless form and curse myself for what I'm about to do. I release my grip on the Vorpal sword as though it had burned me.

"Stop! Stop! Okay, I'm dropping it! Just... stop." I shout, pathetically pleading for the life of a man who would more than likely kill me if the price was high enough. She grins releasing her grip on his heart and I take a deep breath as though it was my heart she had been holding.

"How predictable." She waves her hand and my sword goes flying somewhere behind her. She doesn't get the chance to attack me though because an arrow flies directly into her shoulder. She drops his heart and I lunge forward, grabbing it before it lands on the ground. Cora's attention is now centered on Emma and Snow. I look over at them with wide eyes.

"Go!" Emma shouts, gesturing to Hook. I run to his side, falling to my knees as I cradle the heart gently. I look down, unsure how I'm supposed to do this. I press his heart over where his heart should go and press it down. It goes back in without issue because he gasps, eyes opening to see me looking down at him. His jaw clenches in anger and I remember that I had just knocked him out.

"You-"

"Sorry." I interrupt before he can attack and bring my fist back swiftly and it connects with his face. He falls back once more, unconscious.

"Goodbye, Snow!" Cora's words cause me to look up in time to see Cora about to rip out Snow's heart. Just as her fist connects, Emma gets in the way. Me and Snow watch in horror as her hand goes through her chest.

"Emma!" Snow goes to run towards Emma but Cora throws her back.

"No!" I shout, realizing that we've lost.

"Oh, you foolish girl. Don't you know? Love is weakness." Cora tells Emma and when she goes to pull her heart out it doesn't budge. I sit up, feeling less anxious now and more confused when Cora tries again but fails. Emma smiles a knowing smile.

"No! It's strength." She says and then a bright light explodes from her, pushing Cora back. I look over to where she landed and grin when I see she's been knocked out cold. I let out a victorious shout and run to where she had thrown my sword. I pick it up reverently before turning back to see Emma's shocked face. "What was that?" She asks me but I just grin along with Snow.

"That is a great subject for discussion, when we get home." Snow says and I hold up the compass and walk to the edge of the portal, shaking with anticipation. Snow and Emma grab my outstretched hand tightly.

"Let's do this!" Emma says with an excited grin.

"You guys ready?" I ask and when they nod we all jump on the count of three. As we go through the portal I let a single tear trail down my cheek. A tear of happiness that we won. Even though I'm sure that won't be the last I've seen of Cora, since the prophecy has not yet been fulfilled, I let myself revel in today's victory.

[chaosandgunpowder]

Plausible Deniability Outtake (Ch6)

I've been working through my WIP files and trashing most of them (no worries, most are just random scenes of PD that have already been posted and are just sitting there gathering dust), except I found this section I cut from the end of chapter 6, because it worked better narratively without it, but if anyone was wondering what Alex did directly after bailing on Thomas I thought I'd share:

Alex takes one look at the empty inside of his own hotel room and promptly lets the door slam closed again without even stepping inside, because his throat is tight and clogged and and his chest hurts and his hands are shaking and sweaty and his head is throbbing and he can't breathe and he can't, can't can't sit alone there with just his own thoughts, with nothing to distract him from the confusion he doesn't want to examine.

Alex knows who he is, and what he's good at, and what he's not. He's not good at confusion. He's not got time for confusion. He's not got the energy for confusion. He's not, in any way, prepared for confusion of any kind.

Especially not confusion over Thomas Jefferson, who had no trouble asking Alex to stay, because he's not confused.

This needs to stay simple.

Fuck.

When John's door opens he's wearing sweatpants and his old Columbia hoodie and it's not until he blinks a few times that Alex realizes how much of a fucking mess he must look, hyperventilating in a hotel room doorway, sweaty and probably smelling exactly like what he'd been doing half an hour ago and his chest pulls a little more painfully at the realization that his best friend knows him far too well, is going to have a damn good idea of what Alex is hiding from-

Except John looks him over, nods to himself, and for once, blessedly, doesn't ask.

“You wanna crack open the minibar and get trashed making fun of the bored housewives that buy all the shit on the shopping channel?” he says instead, and Alex nods fervently.

“Fuck yes, please.”

So if anyone's interested in reading my reasoning, writing about writing, because sometimes I'm Alex and just like hearing myself talk, this was originally the closer for chapter 6, except it just didn't feel right. It made a lot more sense in the tone of the chapter to have it end right on Alex leaving (again). This chapter was all about Alex going from fuck-buddy territory to a place where he's realising he's starting to muddy the lines, and this section would have put him fully into starting the *freaking the fuck out about those muddy lines* portion of his development, which is mostly self-contained in chapter 8.

It also did something really weird to the emotional pace of the chapter, like I hyped Alex right up to manic being upset about Will, and then Thomas calmed him right down, and then yeah, he does get a tiny bit agitated again before he bails, but the chapter's over before it really gets going, whereas with this bit on the end, he starts getting really stressed out all over again, and it starts to feel a bit repetetive and rollercoaster-y.

Also it kinda pulled forward John's realisation that Alex was actually into Thomas to way earlier than it should have been, because although I meant for this scene to come off like he was just being an understanding enabler, it easily reads like John is recognising Alex running away from his *feelings*, and so I took it out to avoid that impression, because John's doesn’t really need to realise that Alex has it bad until much later.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this unnecessary essay. Happy Thursday! :)

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

ND for NT? Neurodivergence in National Treasure

(Abigail Chase Edition)

Last time, we took a look at whether Ben fits the DMS criteria for autism. Now it’s Abigail’s turn on my proverbial couch, but I thought we’d do it a little differently this time.

To change it up a bit, instead of the DSM, I have Rudy Simone’s List of Female Aspergers Syndrome Traits. The title might be outdated, but it’s a list of questions pertaining to masked autism. I thought it might be fun to go through these questions and see whether Abigail fits the bill.

By the way, there's no set number of answers that "pass" this questionnaire, and no one person is expected to have all of them. It's more about identifying trends of behavior.

Special thanks to @emmi-kat for providing some of the evidence

The questions come in four sections: Appearance/personal habits, Intellectual/giftedness/education/vocation, Emotions/Physical, and Social Relationships

This article will cover the first two, with a follow up next week.

→ The questions are like this

My responses are like this

Let’s dig in.

Part 1: “Appearance/Personal Habits”

→ Dresses comfortably due to sensory issues and practicality

Abigail dresses professionally in a style I’d call ‘tasteful and subdued.’ Based on that article about her wardrobe, the clothes we see her in are all high quality and rather expensive for what she probably makes as a government employee. You could read this as 1. The Friends Apartment Phenomenon (implausibly expensive bc its gotta look good on film) 2. She’s supposed to look stodgy and uptight when she’s positioned as an opponent to Ben’s mission. Once she joins him, she gets to dress like the rest of Team Treasure

3. Abigail invests in high quality materials due to sensory issues. For our purpose, let’s go with #3.

→ Will not spend much time on grooming and hair. Hairstyles usually have to be ‘wash and wear’. Can be quite happy not grooming at all times. 

Unlike a lot of leading ladies, Abigail’s hairstyles are very plain—outside of the gala of course. At work she wears a simple ponytail or half-ponytail, and on the treasure hunt she doesn’t even have an elastic. If I were her I’d be ripping up my expensive new Urban Outfitters getup looking for something to tie my hair up with, but she doesn’t seem bothered.

→ Eccentric personality; may be reflected in appearance

I don’t know that I’d call her ‘eccentric.’ Although, in the 2003 script, she’s a lot more openly dorky. For instance, she says: Looking stunning in her sparkly formal gown, Abigail stands with Dr. Herbert. ABIGAIL What do you think Thomas Jefferson would say if he were here?

→ Is youthful for her age, in looks, dress, behavior and tastes

For me, she’s the opposite. This is purely conjecture, but I’ve always assumed that Abigail has dressed, acted, and talked like a tenured professor since she was a kid.

→ Usually a little more expressive in face and gesture than male counterparts

I want to say a thing about masking in Book of Secrets but I do not have time right now. TBD

→ May not have a strong sense of identity, and can be very chameleon-like, especially before diagnosis

Someday I’m gonna write a whole article about Abigail’s arc of becoming a treasure hunter, but I choose to read her journey as one of unlocking an existing interest, not of taking on Ben’s identity because she’s hanging around him.

→ Enjoys reading and films as a retreat, often scifi, fantasy, children’s, can have favorites which are a refuge

No canon evidence, but send your headcanons my way.

→ Uses control as a stress management technique: rules, discipline, rigid in certain habits, which will contradict her seeming unconventionality

Yes yes yes. RILEY Ben, the… the mean Declaration lady's behind you.

→ Usually happiest at home or in other controlled environment

Her seemingly newfound interest in treasure hunting contradicts this, but outside of those very specific circumstances I get the impression that yes, she prefers controlled environments. For example, before Ben shows up at the gala she’s wandering around alone, looking like she’s uncomfortable and possibly plotting when she can leave.

Part 2: “Intellectual/giftedness/education/vocation”

→ May have been diagnosed as autistic or Asperger’s when young, or may have been thought of as gifted, shy, sensitive, etc. May also have had obvious or severe learning deficits

Gonna give a solid check mark to “gifted and fshy.” This is headcanon, but I don’t see young Abigail being any other way.

→ Often musical, artistic

In a deleted scene from Book of Secrets we learn that Abigail restores old furniture, or at least that she “painstakingly restored” an antique chair that Ben found.

→ May have a savant skill or strong talent(s)

Well she’s the Charters of Freedom Custodian at like 35 so…

→ May have a strong interest in computers, games, science, graphic design, inventing, things of a technological and visual nature. More visual thinkers may gravitate to writing, languages, cultural studies, psychology

Not exactly what’s listed here, but I headcanon Abigail to have more of an interest in cultural history than Ben does. If Ben’s specialty is the “big names and big idea” type of history, I imagine Abigail is more interested in how ordinary people experienced the periods she studies. I have no evidence for this other than I really like cultural history and would like to project.

→ May be a self-taught reader, been hyperlexic as a child, and will possess a wide variety of other self-taught skills as well

Also purely headcanon, my personal take on Abigail’s childhood is that her family moved to the US when she was in third or fourth grade—whenever the big American Revolution unit is in her state. On one of her first days she was humiliated in front of the class by not knowing a really easy American History answer. (Like, Who was George Washington? etc). So she went to the school library and took out every history book they had. Pretty soon she’d exhaused the supply and moved onto the middle grade and then adult history books at her local library. Again, I have no evidence for this, but the pre-established ideas I had about the character seem to be fitting pretty well within this list.

→ May be highly educated but will have had to struggle with social aspects of college.

If her behavior at the gala (wandering alone, wanting to leave, dealing with reluctant advances) is any indication, she may have struggled with social gatherings in college in a similar way.

→ May have one or many partial degrees

Dr. Abigail Chase has at least one completed Ph.d. Uncompleted degrees are unknown.

→ Can be very passionate about a course of study or job, and then change direction or go completely cold on it very quickly

Not enough evidence either way. The only thing we see her go hot or cold on is Ben lmao.

→ Will often have trouble holding onto a job and may find employment daunting. Highly intelligent, yet sometimes can be slow to comprehend due to sensory and cognitive processing issues

Does not appear to be the case.

→ Will not do well with verbal instruction - needs to write down or draw diagram

Does not appear to be the case. She seems to do fine working with Ben to decode the Ottendorf cypher and cooking up plans with Ian without notes or diagrams, at least that we see.

→ Will have obsessions but they are not as unusual as her male counterpart’s (less likely to be a ‘train-spotter’)

Gonna go back to: ABIGAIL What do you think Thomas Jefferson would say if he were here?

Conclusion

We still have two sections to go, but so far Abigail is lining up with the type of person described by these questions.

Actually, what I'm most interested in at the moment is how well the headcanons I already had formed about her fit this profile.

Onward!

[ouatsnark]

saw a dumb fic that just made me roll my eyes it's apparently an cs abuse fic written by SNOWING who has killlian isolate emma from her family and then hit her and hope and then emma goes running to her parents after escaping. it's ironic they'd write killian wanting to shut emma away from her family when in canon he was always encouraging her to spend time with her family and wanted her to forgive her parents in 4B and stay in storybrooke in the season three finale. they hate emma too fr

Ok here is another installment of "what the hell kinda fanfic did that Regina Apologist just write!"

I am gonna combine several posts about fanfics into this one. So grab some popcorn and come laugh at the ridiculous out of character crap CaptainSwan haters write!

Just a friendly reminder that Regina Mills is the one to have physically abused Emma:

Yes, they do hate Emma. They would rather see Emma with the woman who always put her down or the man that abandoned her instead of the one that always stood beside her: Killian Jones.

And I agree with you 100%. Killian was always including Henry. He was about to die so that Henry would make it back to Emma in S6. He traded his HOME so that he could get Emma back to her family who needed her. Killian would be the last one to isolate Emma.

The characters with the history of isolating their victims would be Regina and Rumple. Regina brought a child to a cursed town where they were doomed to have only her. Rumple killed Belle by taking her away and isolating her from everyone.

So once again, no canon proof that Killian would do this so therefore it's an OOC fic.

I don’t understand why Emma would be mad about Milah. I mean Emma forgave a lot Killian’s past when he was on his journey to hero but Milah being Neal’s mother is the line, here? That just sounds ridiculous. Please tell me they also wrote a fic about Emma finding out Regina had an affair with Robin next to who they thought was his dying wife and she ends up finding that so grotesque that she never speaks to Regina again. Oh wait, yeah who am I kidding they wouldn’t do that.

If they had Emma leaving with Graham then this was one hell of an AU since Graham would’ve been dead by then. I have nothing against Jefferson either, really, or August. But yeah I didn’t see any romantic chemistry between her or August either.

I HATE it when they act like Emma was so dependent on everyone that she must have had to do this, this or that for them accept her. It’s like, no. No, she didn’t. Emma never did a thing until Emma was ready to do it. And her parents would have no say over who Emma ended up with. They were very clear that it was her choice. And as for Henry? Henry was blinded to how Regina was so I find it ridiculous that in this instance they’d have Henry acting like this. He should have been acting like that since Regina abused him. He should've told them "no, don't befriend Regina my abusive fake mommy" but alas the show did not.

Hook throwing a brick through the window? LOL! Hook would be much more direct and hands on. PLEASE. A coward throws a brick.

I am a canon purist so Hook is absolutely straight but he’s been around… I’m sure he wouldn’t bat an eye to anyone’s sexual preferences. He had no issues with Ruby, for instance.

And as you say, neither did Snow! The fact that Snowing tried to warn Emma off of Hook in S3 and encouraged her to let him go in S5 makes it bizarre to me that anyone can say that Snowing pushed Hook onto Emma. The exact opposite happened.

Emma, the Charmings and Hook were accepting of villains and of everyone. Including Ruby and Dorothy. They never once expressed that someone wasn't worthy of their happy ending and they always wanted people to be who they are. So i think it's very tragic that they would want these heroic characters to behave this way to someone they love.

And I spit my wine out at the “they’re saying a child abusing mass murdering rapist deserves to get a happy ending and everyone is fine with it but the savior transitioning is where everyone draws the line”. SO TRUE.

I will end this by saying that if this fic was written to be AU and as an expression of someone’s own trials then that is fine and I hope they find the peace and love they need... but it is in no way supported by canon.

[laiqualaurelote]

Three-Legged Puppy Fics

List five of your least-popular fics, as well as when/why you wrote them.

we don't print retractions: Hamilton (Angelica Schuyler/John Barker Church, Alexander Hamilton/Eliza Schuyler, 2021)

This is a Hamilton AU where everyone works in journalism (except Peggy. Peggy works in marketing). It came to me because of the line from Washington On My Side - "we smack each other in the press and we don't print retractions" - and then I thought, what if they were the press? and also there really isn't enough good Angelica POV in this fandom when she is competent and ambitious and yes she and Hamilton have chemistry but what if they were also colleagues on the same footing, competing for the same front page? and so is Burr, while dying slowly of FOMO? Thomas Jefferson as the news editor from hell who probably once was a very good reporter but should absolutely not have been allowed to supervise other people? Eliza as the world's sweetest copyed? You just know Alexander would go ham if he got his own podcast. I have thought of journalism AUs for every fandom I have been in, it's just a question of fruition.

ain't practical, a world you can't touch: The English (Cornelia/Eli, 2022)

This was a Pushing Daisies AU prompted by a throwaway line in @sagiow's fic about Cornelia baking pies with her son. Many of my fic premises also come from taking things people say in shows literally and so when Eli said, "Ain't practical, a world you can't touch," a lightbulb went off in my head and then it became a way of giving them something better while taking away something else, an exchange that for me is necessary in any attempted fix-it for The English.

The Seven People You Meet In Mexico: The Sandman/Once Upon A Time In Mexico crossover (AO3 timestamp for this is 2013, which is when I got my account, but I'm gonna say 2007? 2008?)

When I was a teenager I had a Robert Rodriguez phase and a Johnny Depp phase (the latter has aged poorly) and the two dovetailed spectacularly in Once Upon A Time In Mexico. I honestly can't remember how this fic came about - maybe because it occurred to me that Sands probably was already acquainted with Delirium, and then it was just a question of him and El Mariachi meeting all the other Endless. It's been really strange revisiting this bit of juvenilia, especially after the Sandman Netflix.

Solving Your Life One Problem At A Time: Inglourious Basterds (Donny Donowitz/Smithson Utivich, 2010)

I also had a Tarantino phase as a teenager, and spent a heady few months in the Inglourious Basterds LiveJournal community (never been in a fandom with so much Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, ground was positively littered with them). This is a canon-divergent AU in which Operation Kino does not happen and nearly all the Basterds survive WWII; what would these completely deranged people do after the war in a civilian context? I have been thinking about Inglourious Basterds again recently because I am trying to learn Italian but I feel like Brad Pitt saying "Buongiorno" in the most godawful accent.

The Happiness Of Having Her With Me Unto Death: Great Expectations (one-sided Pip/Estella Havisham, 2009)

As part of my A-level revision I decided to write zombie apocalypse AUs for all of my literature texts. I managed Great Expectations and Proof (the David Auburn play about mathematics) but could not make zombie!Hamlet work.

I have always been obsessed with Estella Havisham. Someday I will write the AU where she arranges the "accidental" death of her abusive husband and teams up with Éponine Thénardier from Les Misérables and Maggie Tulliver from The Mill on the Floss, who have both survived their respective novels, to run a criminal empire. Estella is the Face, Maggie is the Brains and 'Ponine, she knows her way around. They blackmail Jaggers into helping them dodge the law. By the time Estella meets Pip again she is queen of the London underworld. She has finally, truly become her father's daughter.

Thank you @leupagus for the tag forever ago! Tagging - anyone who would like to give their rare fics some love. While we are at it I should add that @leupagus is one of the loveliest people I've had the good fortune to meet through fandom, she has been so kind to me even though she has no idea who I am, I could be a mermaid in a cistern for all she knows.

[gracehosborn]

Find The Word Tag

Thanks to my dear @kaylinalexanderbooks for the tag!

Rules: I find my words in my WIPs, I give you five words to find in your WIPs, and then you tag other people with five other words!

My words: beat, lack, overview, responsibility, debut

Your words: observe, run, blue, mind, and through

My excerpts will be under the cut.

Beat

From The American Icarus: Volume I:

In the writing of this, it is an odd observation that a decision made with a great underscore of dread has fostered an underserving curiosity. ‘Twas such feelings, that without the ability to dispel them, held my attention upon the simple wood carving of the door to my lodgings for a long moment. Such favor was not deserving of the plain rectangular squares made upon the dark oak, nor the dull tint of the brass handle having seen much use, however at the sounds of my fellow students moving about behind me through the halls intent on arriving to their next classes, my gaze would not drift contrary to the wish of part of myself. In the case that the missing of my next class was to be made a reality by the sickly dread that held onto my chest in keeping me still, the other part of me felt a sense of satisfaction of that most mischievous nature. My heart was apt to beat in tune with the footsteps of those behind me, as my hand lay at my side unmoving despite my conviction.

Lack

N/A

Overview

N/A

Responsibility

From The American Icarus: Volume I:

My voice was a mutter: “Sorry, I—” “No, no, ‘tis alright,” the Reverend rushed towards me, bending down to help grab what had fallen. These volumes were an odd assortment as I discovered picking them up: The Art of War of which I had been intent on reading once more, Burke’s A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful, and though its oddity within that place, what was apparent a volume on the subject of affairs of honor—though it was worn to the point that making out its title in satisfactory was made impossible. Such a odd and stupid thing, as they are. Who could be so foolish as to engage in one…? Pushing myself away from those thoughts, I forced myself to stand, quickly putting the fallen books where they had been originally placed. My taste of honor and responsibility had been only as such; if I wished to have a reputable reputation I would have to earn it, and as coincidental as it was, Mr. Knox was then going on at length about the aforementioned college, his friend there, and hinting at ways I could use such an education.

Debut

From Ink of Destruction:

Walking closer, I could see a large painting of George Washington hanging to the left, a large portrait of Thomas Jefferson to the far right, and a small painting of Alexander Hamilton in the center. Seeing the all-to-familiar painting stare back towards me, I was once again reminded of the history behind its subject that had been presented in Chernow’s biography. For it seemed that it was inescapable, no matter how many months ago I had searched through it. Then again, no one had been able to escape it, for with the Broadway debut of Hamilton in August of 2015, the world as it seemed had since become engrossed in it. Sighing, I closed my eyes, looking away from the paintings, wanting not to dwell on anything else but the situation at hand. Opening my eyes, I started to turn back around, but for the millionth time, something caught my attention. Hamilton’s painting was vanishing away, paint drop by paint drop. Helplessly watching the portrait fade out into nothingness, I was reminded of when the Constitution had done the same hours earlier. With my eyes glued to the scene, I had a sudden hunch: were the two events connected somehow? I had no idea other than the fact that each involved a vanishing historical artifact of American history. Taking a shaky breath, I now looked at the blank, white, empty canvas, watching the light from my flashlight reflect off the edge of the gold frame. Slowly, as though an open bottle of water had been tipped over causing the water inside to slither due to the effects of gravity, the golden frame and canvas themselves began to melt towards the ground; fading into the air as though they had never existed. The sound carried no weight leaving the air around me to ring with such silence that it felt suffocating. Now in complete shock, I stared at the empty space upon the wall feeling the dozens of questions swirl around inside my mind having no answers to be given.

Tagging: @sunset-a-story @blind-the-winds @kiraofthewind and anyone else who wants to play.

[abbatoirablaze]

Hidden Sisters, Chapter 14

Word Count:  1.6k

Warnings:  angst, mentions of harm, sexual tension

“Hey…”

Jennifer looked to Nick and her jaw clenched.  It had been a few days since she sent her sisters home, even though Nick had told her that she didn’t have to, and that she should try to work through it. 

“Work through it?” she scoffed, “they told me that I should leave you.  Do you really want me to take my little sister’s advice right now, Nick?”

He frowned, “well, no, bu-“

“Just leave me alone,” she growled, not wanting to argue with the father of her unborn child, “I don’t want to argue with you…I don’t want to even see you!”

“Jennifer…”

“No,” she cried, immediately breaking down in front of him.  He rushed to catch her so that her knees didn’t hit the hard mountain rock floor.  His own heart broke as his mate, the woman he loved, began sobbing against his chest, “you don’t get it, Nick.”

“Then explain it to me!” he begged sadly.

“You will never understand!”

“At least give me the chance to try!”

Jennifer looked up at him through teary lashes.  Nick was quick to wipe away the small streams that had begun on her cheeks once again, “hey…no more tears, mommy wolf!”

She sniffled and bit her lip, her eyes watering once more. 

“Nick…”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he whispered in response.  He gently kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms just a little bit tighter around her waist, “we don’t have to re-hash it again!”

“WHY?” She screamed in his face, “why should I even bother?  The men in my life abandon or hurt me!  That’s all they’ve ever done!  I WISH I NEVER MET YOU!”

Nick felt like his heart was shattering in his chest as the words began to sink in.  Tears welled up in his own eyes, “y-you don’t mean that, Jennifer.  Y-you-you’re my soulmate.  My true soulmate!”

“And you were willing to hurtle a fireball at me without so much as a thought!” she sobbed, “you were willing to kill me.  To kill our child!”

Nick rushed her once again, holding her in a tight grip, “let me get this out there, so the whole world can hear it!  If anything ever happened to you, I’d die!  I’d lose all sanity.  You are my everything, Jennifer.  You and our children!  I don’t know what I was thinking when I did that, I don’t.  But it will never happen again.”

“You’re right.  It won’t.  I will not suffer the same fate as my mother!” she whimpered, gripping his shoulders so desperately that little crescent moons were appearing when she moved her fingers, “I will not let you hurt me or our children!”

“You’re all I have, Jennifer!”

His tone felt broken as the tears slid down his own cheeks, “don’t lock me out of the only relationship I have left.  I can’t bare the thought of losing you too!”

“Nic-“

“I’m sorry!” he said loudly, the teras falling freely down his cheeks, “I’m sorry.  And you can hate me for the rest of your life if you want, but please don’t say that you wish you never knew me.  Because I would have let Kemp kill me if you weren’t in my life…I would have just let myself fade into the afterlife.  You are the fire that runs through my veins, the water that keeps me from dehydrating in the desert.  I love you, Jennifer.  Don’t give up on me like everyone else has.  Please.”

Jennifer reached up, sniffling a little bit more as she touched her mate’s jaw.  Nick leaned into her touch and she sighed.  Her other hand reached down and grabbed his, lacing her fingers with his, before settling over her abdomen, “I love you, Nick.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“What?” Annalise asked suddenly, looking towards her twin, “I’m not going anywhere.  What are you talking about?”

“Jake and Ransom won’t let us leave!” she spat, “and it’s all because of your difficult mate.  It’s his fault that Jefferson hasn’t even had the time to see me.  He barely writes me anymore!”

“Shut up, Samantha!”

She rolled her eyes and Annalise got up to leave the main sitting room.  She knew that Ransom and Jake were tucking the girls in, and she made her way to the staff’s quarters, looking for a particular woman.

Annalise’s breath caught in her throat. 

He stood, wrapped in only seaweed and netting around his lower waist.  Her inner wolf purred, seeing her mate so bare in front of her.  Her logic began to fade as her wolf wanted to take over and pounce on her very virile looking mate.

Lance was training vigorously by himself with a trident in his hand.  He was practicing maneuvers against a tree, twirling the trident around his body, making moves to stab at and pierce the tree every so often. 

She felt her breath catch in her throat.

The young water nymph looked at her in shock, “you actually want to go see him?”

“He’s my mate.”

“He’s a monster, Miss Jensen…you’d do well to stay by your brother’s side and under his and King Ransom’s protection for as long as you can,” she sighed gently, “he’s not…well liked in the water kingdom.”

“But he’s the king?”

“We fear him, Miss Annalise…” she admitted sadly, “he’s a nymph worth fearing….but not one that everyone likes…”

“Well, I want to know where to find him.”

“He’s probably preparing for the war!”

“Which means he’ll be where?”

“Miss…you don’t want to see him.”

“Tell me where he is, water nymph…and then act as you never saw me…”

She sighed as she told the little wolf where her mate would be training knowing that there would be no talking her out of seeing him.

Lance nearly dropped his trident when he spun to face Annalise.  He released a gasp and quickly threw the weapon away from himself, his hands reaching up to pull her body towards his own, “Annalise!  What are you doing here?  It’s not safe!”

“I had to see you!” she said quickly, “I haven’t heard from you since-“

“Since you kicked me out!” he finished quickly, reminding her of their last encounter together. 

Annalise bit her lip and looked away from the water nymph, “I’m sorry about that.”

“I never forgot you, Annalise,” he admitted, “I just…Nick and I were at ends…and I didn’t think it fair to you to try to win over your heart if I might not be there to claim it by the end of this war.”

Annalise looked up at him, shock on her face, “what?”

“Look at me!” he commanded gently as he held her at arm’s length.  She began to notice all of the little scars on his body, “this is from challenges within my own kingdom.  I cannot tell you that my people love me or wouldn’t try to harm me…and that includes if I were to lead them onto a battlefield.  I know that I have enemies in my waters…and I wouldn’t put it past them to see this as a likely chance to usurp my role.  I wouldn’t want to put you into any danger by assuming that you should wait for me, or by bringing you to my stead.  I do not want to do to you what Nick did to your elder sister and hold your life in my hands if I cannot guarantee that I can protect it while I’m at war.”

“Lance…”

The nymph licked his bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth, “I must train if I know I am to survive, mate…”

Annalise was unable to hold back the purr developing in her throat.  Lance bit back a smirk as she looked away again, her body trailing back down along his own lithe, yet muscular form.  She felt a tightness in her belly and a warmth covering her. 

“Do you like that?” he teased, catching on, “do you like it when I refer to you as my mate?”

Her eyes went wide. 

“Lance…”

She felt a line of sweat teasing the back of her neck, coming out of her hairline. 

“Yes, my beautiful wolf.  My loving mate?  My alpha”

A pain radiated in her belly and her nails ran down the nymphs chest as the final word crossed his lips.  Lance, seeing it as a come-on, pulled her towards him, their lips clashing in a heated passion.  She began rumbling, signaling to him the deeper connection that she wanted, and Lance scooped her up, turned, and held her between himself and the tree. 

“Annalise!”

“Lance!” she whimpered gently, biting his lower lip.  She gasped as his fingers trailed over her swelling mating gland, and he started to piece together the puzzle.

“Shit,” he hissed gently, still pressing her to the tree so that she couldn’t run, “You’re going into a breakthrough rut, my wolf!”

“I-I should go!”

“You wouldn’t be safe alone!” he said quickly, his hands quick to tuck her hair behind her ears as he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, “let me take you to my realm…I-I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

“But you said-“

“I would be more than a fool to let you out of my sight now that we’ve been seen together in this manner,” he replied quickly, “please…”

She looked at him, concern lacing his steely eyes, and she nodded, kissing him once more.  Her eyes closed as she latched onto him, and she felt a cooling whir around her, “Okay Lance.”

“Do not let go!” he whispered against her lips.

And the water took them both. 

Chapter 15

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @dontbescaredtosingalong, @teambarnes72