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spacedikut · 4 years ago

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exam help ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: a self-indulgent blurb about spencer helping with exams :) 1.7k

a/n: first fic of the year :D happy 2021!

masterlist

Another anguish-filled screech reverberates from your and Spencer’s shared office, bringing even your pet fish in the tank to attention.

It’s the third one this hour. Spencer tries to ignore it, just like you told him to, but God you sound like you’re in pain and Spencer can’t exactly ignore that, can he? He loves you and cares for you and- oh. A thump reaches his ears. A textbook, maybe? Did you punch your textbook?

He considers for a moment that the neighbours will be alarmed, perhaps call the police or tentatively knock with a, “Is everything okay in there?”

It wouldn’t be the first time.

What would he tell them? Oh, my apologies, my partner has exams coming up and just told me they get why unsubs do that now. I am also terrified.

There are many instances where Spencer feels useless. During his job, when his mother would have an episode, when his friends have problems he just wouldn’t understand. But, somehow, and maybe controversially, this is the worst type of uselessness. The type that leaves him staring at the wall, questioning everything, the type that makes his stomach drop because all he can do is watch.

He’s been watching you for the last two weeks. He’s sick of watching, of being no help, and he needs to do something before he breaks and does something illegal.

(The illegal thing is doing your exams for you - not illegal as in, perhaps, murder)

Your frazzled head pops out from the office, one hand rubbing your eyes and a permanent frown etched on your face, and with a fragile voice you ask, “Can you make me a coffee, please?”

Now, Spencer feels hypocritical, but he has to say it. “Another? Are you sure?”

He sees the internal battle within you, how you try your hardest not to snap. It’s not his fault you’re stressed. He’s just trying to help. “Yes, I’m sure. Please, Spence,”

“Of course. I’ll bring it in.”

“Thank you.” With a pained smile, you’re gone again into the dark abyss of where you’re studying.

With quick, ingrained movements, Spencer makes your coffee with too much creamer and marshmallows. Unusual, yes, but your current diet consists of coffee and whatever he can force you to consume – like marshmallows.

But then, hello, he spots a chocolate bar haphazardly close to the bin, grabs it, and hopes you let him watch you eat it.

Stepping into the room as quietly as possible, he’s smacked in the face by the smell of lavender. It makes him nauseous, the intensity of it, quickly followed by a lurch of his heart because you poor thing, you’re being crushed by the weight of your degree – literally. The other day you purchased an insanely heavy weighted blanket and you’re drowning in it.

Now, if you were to ask Spencer who the most beautiful person on the planet is, he’d say you in a heartbeat. He’s thought that since you first met and, years later, still stands by that. But now, right now, glowering at him in the dimly lit, lavender drenched study that you used to love oh-so-much? You have the face of a French bulldog, all grumpy and furrowed and too many creases on your face to make Spencer feel like he’s actually helping when he places the coffee and snack on your desk.

Despite the crabby expression, your words are filled with love and appreciation – which happens to be Spencer’s favourite mix. “Thank you, my love.” You take a sip of the coffee, hum in delight, and for the first time in days there’s a spark of something other than torment. “You’re the best.”

Spencer’s hand holds the back of your neck and he places a series of soft kisses to your temple, mumbling, “I love you. Very much. Is there anything else you need?”

“Death.”

“Okay. I’ll work on it.”

At that, you grace Spencer with a weak half-smile. It’s enough to overwhelm Spencer, overflowing and only able to be shown through a chaste, encouraging peck on your lips and a half-hug, Spencer bent at the waist to hold you in your desk chair. He noses your hair, hoping his closeness will alleviate some stress, before stepping back and praying his eyes tell you everything he wants to say but know will elicit annoyance from you.

I love you. Take care of yourself. Rest, please. You can do this, but not if you over exert yourself. I love you.

Your eyes tell him, I’ll try. I love you. And that’s all he can ask for.

But when he leaves, shuffles past his bookshelf, his eyes catch sight of an old file that reminds him of when he was preparing for his own exams.

He gets an idea.

+++

It takes another two days, full of late nights involving work that isn’t staying up and distracting himself with books to avoid worrying over you and how late you go to sleep, and reading that leaves Spencer in awe of you and everyone in your field.

A part of him is amazed by how he wheelbarrowed the resources behind you without you noticing, another is worried about that fact, and the rest of him is excited that he can finally do something that will actually help. At least, he hopes.

(When everything is said and done, despite being endlessly grateful, you also inform Spencer that simply being there and being him and getting you coffee every time you ask is more than enough, really)

With pride, he leans back on the couch, observing his creations on the coffee table. There’s plenty of different colours, all representing a different topic, and he presses the thumbs up to like the Youtube video he was using to ensure his handwriting is easy to read.

Flashcards. Hundreds, if Spencer counted correctly. The textbooks he stole – borrowed – from under your nose lie next to his feet, the weight of them combined more of a workout than he’s (voluntarily) done in eons.

He only hopes you don’t think it’s too late, think he’s overstepping or-or that he’s doing those things that he’s been accused of before – thinking he knows best (he does, but whatever), overbearing arrogance, an unwillingness to hear and accept other people’s way of doing things.

He just wants to help. He wants you to know he’s here for you, no matter what you need. This is the thing that lets him believe he’s doing something, something good and useful. Spencer just wants to be useful.

He’s convinced you to eat a proper breakfast – fruit, oats, bread, meat, a whole buffet – and you sense something is amiss when you hear slow, tentative footsteps creeping from your bedroom.

Spencer, still in his pyjamas, glasses perched on his nose, approaches with a shallow box in his grasp. You swallow your bite, turn to face him. “What’ve you got there?”

The box is slid onto the counter next to your plate hesitantly, as if he regrets his actions as he’s doing them. Peering in, you see a blur of colour, stacks on stacks of rectangular paper filled with writing and questions and even a tips! section.

You pick up the first batch, all light blue, and flick through them, heart getting bigger and bigger with every word you read. And when you realise what they are, what Spencer’s done – for you – your heartrate has skyrocketed and the watch on your wrist is asking you if you’re okay.

“You made me flashcards?” You ask, in awe, again looking at the love of your life to find he’s already staring at you.

“I did,” He tells you, apprehensive and scared, already backtracking, “But, if you don’t think they’re useful, or-or you think I’m overstepping – I’m not trying to, I promise, I just thought…” He starts nervously shuffling and reshuffling some of his creation. “Flashcards are known to engage active recall and metacognition. Research consistently finds that applying metacognitive strategies tends to ingrain memories deeper into your knowledge, and that this kind of active recall retrieval practice leads to one-hundred and fifty percent better retention than passive studying, so…”

Your hands have a mind of their own, pulling what feels like an endless amount of cards out and turning them in your hands, from the questions on the front to the answers on the back, the ones with hints and advice and there’s several with doodles that are so Spencer you hold them to your chest. You’re so enamoured by this man that is still rambling and bumbling because he takes your silence as distaste.

“I just- I hate seeing you so stressed, so I made these. You don’t have to use them, of course. They’re not even that great. It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable, you’re beyond capable, or that your methods don’t work- Just, personally, I love flashcards. I used them all the time when studying, even though I didn’t really need them, so perhaps a change of medium would do you good-“

A warm hand on his own that keep fidgeting stops him mid-stream of consciousness.

“Thank you,” You say, earnestly, “Really. These are lovely.” You leap from your seat, wrapping Spencer in warmth and love and care, and he shivers when he feels your hot breath on his ear when you repeat your thanks again and again.

When he pulls you even closer, so your torso curves into his own, you feel the lightest you have in weeks. You’re in the arms of the man you love, who knows you love him too and you know loves you so much – enough to spend several nights reading your cursed textbooks so he could create something that might help – and now you’re confident that you can do it. With the help of Spencer and his lovingly hand-made flashcards, you can do it.

And if, somehow, it goes awry, that’s okay too. Because you’ll still have Spencer, your number one fan, who will be there to comfort you and advise you in any way he can. He’ll never let you doubt yourself, never allow a self-deprecating joke if he can help it, because if he has to, he’ll love and support you enough for the both of you until you can do it yourself.

The world feels a little brighter, your breaths feel a little lighter, all because of Spencer. So you kiss him, murmur love against his lips, and get ready to take on whatever dares to come your way.

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @ogmilkis @chiffonchronicles @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @gublertoon @averyhotchner @wheeledup @shadyladyperfection @joodeduarte @calm-and-doctor @

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #mine #the end is super cheesy but #eeeeeeeeeeeeee

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babypandawrites · 4 years ago

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Allies, Pt. 9

The Northern Air Temple

Pairing: Sokka x F Reader Warnings: None Word Count: 3,813 Summary: You thought that the chance of there being Airbenders other than Aang was too good to be true, sadly you were right.

Note: How I completely forgot about this until now I'm not sure but! Another piece of this series I’ve done for the fun of it is outfit designs- If that kind of things in fics isn’t your cup of tea then feel free to act like these don't exist! But for those who are interested or who might just wanna see; here you go. This is just what I personally envisioned while writing, again feel free to ignore it if you want, but I figured I might as well share :) I was also going to wait until tomorrow to post this bc Wednesdays is my upload day for it on Ao3 but I’m also a chapter ahead there and wanted to get my tumblr uploads caught up- so back to back post today and tomorrow :) Yay

-Navigation- | -Atla Masterlist- -Last Part- | -Allies Masterlist- | -Next Part-

Taglist: @boomeraangin | @brokennerdalert

“So, travelers, the next time you think you hear a strange large bird talking, take a closer look, it might not be a giant parrot, but a flying man! A member of a secret group of air walkers who laugh at gravity and laugh at those bound to the earth by it!” Aang smiled. “Aren’t airbender stories the best?” “Was it realistic? Was that how it was back then?” Katara questioned. “I laugh at gravity all the time. Haha! Gravity.” A pair of hands holding a hat suddenly appeared in the space inbetween Sokka and Y/n. The storyteller shook the hat, the jingling of coins being heard. “Jingle, jingle.” The two searched their pockets for any money. Y/n didn’t have anything, and the only thing Sokka pulled from his coat pocket was a small ball of lint and a bug. Y/n offered the storyteller a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” “Aww. Cheapskates!” The man left them, going to ask other audience members for donations. She turned to look at Sokka, a disgusted expression apparent on her face at the bug that wiggled around in his hand. “Why… was there a bug in your coat?” “Hey! Don’t question a man and his bug.” The bug rolled over, and started to crawl up his hand. Sokka yelped and shook it off. Her expression twisted into amusement. “A man and his bug, huh?” “It’s not my fault we can’t afford to keep him fed.”

The next morning, the group found themselves on the way to the Northern Air Temple. Apparently, the airbenders in the story they heard were seen the previous week. It seemed a little too good to be true, that there might be airbenders other than Aang still out there, but Y/n wasn’t going to be the one to crush the kids' hope. That was Sokka’s job, not hers. “Hey, we’re almost at the Northern Air Temple! This is where they had the championships for sky bison polo.” Y/n looked at Aang with a smile. “Sky bison polo? That sounds fun.” “It is fun! So much fun!” Katara moved to sit next to her brother. “Do you think we’ll really find airbenders?” “You want me to be like you, or totally honest?” Sokka asked, focusing on whittling a piece of wood. “Are you saying I’m a liar?” Katara crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m saying you’re an optimist. Same thing basically.” “They’re not the same thing at all.” Y/n commented. The boy just shrugged his shoulders. “Hey guys, look at this!” Appa was starting to approach the Northern Air Temple. It sat up on a sheer peak, several people flew around it, and smoke rose from a few pillars. “Huh! They really are airbenders!” Aang leaned, crossing his arms unhappily. “No, they’re not.” Sokka pointed up at the people flying around. “What do you mean they’re not? Those guys are flying!” “Gliding maybe, but not flying. You can tell by the way they move. They’re not airbending. Those people have no spirit.” Y/n tipped her head to the side, watching the gliders. “I mean, they look like they're flying to me, but you would know best.” As she finished speaking, a glider passed over the group's heads, nearly taking them off. The glider’s pilot laughed, turning to pass by Appa again. Getting a closer look at the kid, it could be noted that his glider was built out of the wheelchair he sat in. Katara pointed in the glider’s direction. “I don’t know, Aang. That kid seems pretty spirited!” The glider made another pass, and soon Aang was standing up glider in hand, before taking off. Another glider flew in front of Appa, startling him and causing Katara and Y/n to fall backwards into Sokka. The three grunted at the impact. “We better find some solid ground before it finds us!” Appa made a landing on one of the temple’s outer terraces, the trio getting off him and watching as Aang and the boy in the wheelchair glided through the sky. Aang eventually came down and landed next to them, the other boy also coming to a landing. A few kids came other and detached the glider from his wheelchair, before he wheeled over to the group. “Hey! You’re a real airbender! You must be the Avatar! That’s amazing! I- I- I’ve heard stories about you.” Aang rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Thanks.” “Wow! This glider chair is incredible!” Sokka rushed over to the kids who had the glider setup, inspecting it. “If you think this is good, wait until you see the other stuff my Dad designed.” He began to wheel away, the group following. They were led through the huge main gate of the temple, into the main chamber. The room was dominated by steam-powered machinery with many wheels, gears and pipes. “Wow!” Sokka ran forward, looking around the room excitedly. “Yeah, my dad is the mastermind behind this whole place! Everything’s powered by hot air. It even pumps hot air currents outside to give us a lift when we’re gliding.” Aang took a look around. “This place is unbelievable.” The boy in the wheelchair smiled. “Yeah, it’s great isn’t it?” “No, just unbelievable.” Y/n tried to hold back a laugh, clearing her throat to force down her laughter. “Aang used to come here a long time ago. I think he’s a little shocked it’s so… different.” Katara said, before following after Aang when he walked off. “So better!” Rolling her eyes, Y/n elbowed Sokka in the shoulder. He gave her a look. “Come on, you don’t think this is cool at all?” “Not really.”

Soon they followed the boy, Teo, to another part of the temple. This time it was a courtyard of sorts, it was untouched, and there were statues of airbenders. Aang was much happier about this, than he had been about the other room. “It’s nice to see even one part of the temple that isn’t ruined.” He spoke, as him, Y/n and Katara looked at a huge statue of an airbender monk. “Look out!” A voice shouted out, shortly before a wrecking ball crashed through the statue. The three flew backwards with the debris, and everyone started to cough from the dust. As the dust settled, several people could be seen through the hole that’d been created. One of the people walked forward, a middle aged man with a mostly bald head who wore a monocle, a green tunic and an apron. “What the doodle! Don’t you know enough to stay away from construction sites? We have to make room for the bathhouse!” “Do you know what you just did? You just destroyed something sacred! For a stupid bathhouse!” Aang, clearly upset with the man, took on an airbending stance. The man waved a hand in front of his nose. “Well, people around here are starting to stink.” Aang pointed at him. “This whole place stinks!” He slammed his staff against the ground, sending a strong gust of wind through the hole in the wall, knocking the wrecking ball and it’s rig off the building's foundation. “This is a sacred temple! You can’t treat it this way. I’ve seen it when the monks were here. I know what it’s supposed to be like.” “The monks? But you’re twelve!” Teo wheeled over. “Dad, he’s the Avatar. He used to come here a hundred years ago.” Aang walked closer to the man. “What are you doing? Who said you could be here?” “Hmmm… doing here… A long time ago, but not a hundred years, my people became refugees after a terrible flood.” He gestured his arms for effect, before moving to stand behind his son. “My infant son, Teo, was badly hurt and lost his mother.” Sniffling, he held back tears. “I needed somewhere to rebuild and I stumbled across this place. Couldn’t believe it! Everywhere pictures of flying people. But empty! Nobody home! Then I came across these fan like contraptions!” He held his arms out as if they were wings, making flying motions with them as he walked about the courtyard for a short moment. He stopped in front of Aang, who was clearly still upset. “Our gliders.” “Yes, little light flying machines. They gave me an idea. Build a new life for my son, in the air! Then everyone would be on equal ground, so to speak! We’re just in the process of improving upon what’s already here and after all, isn’t that what nature does?” Aang was still upset, while Sokka and Katara stood behind him, teary eyed from the story. Y/n rolled her eyes at the siblings, before moving to stand next to Aang, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Sure, the story was sad, but to her the boy’s feelings were more important. The Mechanist turned to look through the hole in the wall he’d created. “I suppose that’s true. Unfortunately, progress has a way of getting away from us.” He looked down in a bout of sadness, before his head snapped up to look at an odd candle device..? A bit aways from them. “Look at the time!” Three candles burned brightly on a stone pedestal, each separated into their own sections. Next to the pedestal, a large mallet rests, sitting head down. The Mechanist turned to one of the scribes behind him. “Come the pulley system must be oiled before dark.” Sokka approached the candles, observing them. “Wait, how can you tell the time from that thing? The notches all look the same.” “The candle will tell us. Watch.” The candle’s flame snapped four times in a row. “You put spark powder in the candle!” “Four flashes, so it’s exactly four hours past midday, or, as I call it, four o’candle!” Sokka let out a laugh, as The Mechanist looked at him, seemingly pleased he was interested. “If you like that, wait till you see my finger safe knife sharpener!” Y/n’s attention moved to the man at the mention of that, watching as he held up his left hand, where three of his fingers were made of wood. He detached them from his hand, before tossing them to Sokka. “Only took me three tries to get it right!” Sokka let out a scream, as he caught the wooden fingers. “Follow me!” The Mechanist turned to leave, the men who were with him and Sokka quickly followed. As the boy passed by Y/n, he grabbed onto her wrist and dragged her along with him. She offered a quick goodbye wave to Aang, Katara and Teo as she was dragged away.

Quiet steps echoed through the narrow hallway, as Y/n, Sokka and The Mechanist descending a narrow staircase. Each of them held a lantern, glowing with sparse blue light. “These lanterns are terrible! I can’t see.” Y/n ran into Sokka’s back, as he abruptly stopped to open the jar to his lantern. She flicked the back of his head, as he continued to speak. “Why would you want to use fireflies for light- Hey!” She snickered, watching the firefly that escaped from his lantern. The Mechanist turned to look at them. “Hey, close that up! They’ll get loose. Fireflies are a non-flammable light source.” “Are you meaning to say that something down here is flammable?” Y/n asked, as they all continued walking. “Well, why else would I need a non-flammable light source?” The Mechanist offered a chuckle, as they approached a door. The edges of it were blocked by some sort of sealant, which he felt around, probably to check for leaks. After checking he turned back to them. “Cover your nose and hold your breath.” Once they’d done so, The Mechanist slid open a panel in the door, which they all looked through. It just showed a dark and empty room. “Okay, so you brought us all the way down here to see an empty room.” Sokka spoke with a somewhat confused tone. “Wrong.” Eyebrows furrowing together, Y/n watched as the panel was slid shut again. “You brought us all the way down here to see a room full of flammable explosive gas?” “Correct! It’s filled to the brim with natural gas. Came across it my first time here. Unfortunately, I was carrying a torch at the time. Nearly blew myself and the whole place even more sky high. Thought my eyebrows would never grow back! Anyway, there’s a vital problem that needs solving. From time to time we have gas leaks and they’re nearly impossible to find.” Y/n took a few steps back, as Sokka helped check the door for leaks. “So this place is an explosion waiting to happen?” “Yes, until I figure out how to locate something I can’t see, hear, smell or touch.” “Right, is it safe for us to be around this gas? Should we be wearing masks or something, in case we come across a leak so we don’t, you know, inhale it?” “Oh don’t worry, we should be fine.” The Mechanist paused for a moment, straightening up after finishing checking for leaks. “Well, as long as you aren’t a firebender or something- hah!” He let out a laugh, which Sokka quickly shared. Sokka nudged her in the arm, as they started walking back. “Oh come on, that was funny. You know that was funny.” “Yeah, hilarious.” He threw an arm over her shoulders. “Come on, loosen up. We’re gonna be fine, even if we do come across a leak.” She put her hands up in defense. “Okay, okay.”

The Mechanist led the pair to his workshop, and very clearly told them not to touch anything, before going to look over some papers on his desk. Sokka, of course, did not listen to that and started poking through things the moment the man's attention wasn’t on them. “Sokka, he said not to touch anything.” Y/n whispered, smacking his hand away from something he was about to mess with. He gently pushed her away a bit, before going right back to poking around. “Calm down, it’s fine. It’s not like I’m going to break an-” Sokka cut himself off, as he knocked some stuff over. Grimacing, he tried to keep it from falling to the ground. “I said don’t touch anything!” When The Mechanist spoke up, Sokka dropped the things to the ground. Y/n crossed her arms over her chest. “Not gonna break anything, huh?” The Mechanist came over, to help Sokka pick the things up. “Oh, don’t worry, that experiment is old and that egg was just part of last week’s lunch.” Y/n kneeled down to help them too, as Sokka sniffed the air. “Ugh! Week old egg smell!” “Quick! Find that egg!” The three started to crawl around, looking for the egg, but none of them were having much luck. “How could something that’s so small you can’t even see it make such a big stink!?” Sokka complained as they looked. The Mechanist perked up at the comment. “That’s the solution to our problem!” “Yeah!” Y/n looked at the two, confused, as they faced each other with excitement. “What?” “If we put a whole mess of rotten eggs in the cellar where the gas seeps up..” Sokka started the thought, which The Mechanist continued. “The gas will mix with the smell of rotten eggs…” “Then, if there’s a leak…” “You smell rotten eggs! Then you just follow your nose to the place where the smell is coming from..” “And plug up the hole where the gas is escaping!” “You’re a genius!” The two spoke in unison. Still, Y/n looked between the two with a confused expression. “ What? ” Suddenly, a large bell started to ring, and The Mechanist was quick to get up and rush from the room. “Something’s wrong I’ve got to go.” “Wonder what that’s about.” Sokka said, getting up himself. He helped Y/n up, grinning. “We should follow him.” “Always a snoop, huh?” Laughing softly, she shook her head. “Alright.” Grasping onto her wrist, he dragged her out of the room to follow after The Mechanist. They’d followed him to another room, one that was filled to the brim with different war machines branded with the Fire Nation’s insignia.

“You make weapons for the Fire Nation!?” Sokka was clearly angry with his words, rightfully so. Y/n was pretty mad about this development as well. She pointed a finger at The Mechanist. “You! You're terrible. Horrible terrible!” The Mechanist looked at the ground in humiliation and shame. Teo looked at his father angrily. “Explain all this! Now!” “It was about a year after we moved here. Fire Nation soldiers found our settlement. You were too young to remember this tale. They were going to destroy everything, burn it to the ground. I pleaded with them, begged them to spare us. They asked what I had to offer. I offered… my services. You must understand, I did this for you!” Teo turned his wheelchair away, clearly upset. The Mechanist turned on his heel, and walked back down the hall, leaving the five kids in the room. Teo shook his head. “I can’t believe this…. This is terrible.” “I know..” Aang looked at the weapons with disdain. “There’s so much here.” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest. “The Fire Nation could be coming for this soon…” Aang breathed out a sigh. “Your right… I’m going to go figure it out.” “I’ll come with.” Teo said, as Aang started to leave the room, before following the boy. With Aang and Teo’s return, they found out that the Fire Nation was coming soon. And they were intending to burn this place to the ground. They were all outside on one of the walkways, trying to figure out a plan. “This is bad! Very bad!” Katara looked over to Aang. “Aang, what are we gonna do? How can we possibly keep them all away?” “I’ll tell you how.” He pointed to the sky. “We have something they don’t. Air power! We control the sky. That’s something the Fire Nation can’t do. We can win!” “I want to help.” The Mechanist approached the group, as he spoke up. Aang offered the man a smile. “Good, we’ll need it.”

“We finally got the war balloon working, thanks to Sokka. This boy’s a genius!” “Thank you. You’re a genius!” “Thank you!” Y/n rolled her eyes at the exchange. “Can we get on with this?” Sokka cleared his throat. “Right. See, the problem with the old war balloon was you could get it airborne, but once you did, it just kept going.” He demonstrated with a model that flew up and hit the ceiling. “You could put a hole in the top, but then all the hot air would escape. So the question became, how do you keep a lid on hot air?” “Ugh, if only we knew.” Katara commented. Y/n, Aang, Teo and Katara herself all laughed at the remark. Ignoring them, Sokka pulled the model down from the ceiling, now showing off the mechanism to open and close a lid on the top. “A lid is actually the answer. If you control the hot air, you control the war balloon.” He demonstrated again, but this time the model didn’t fly up to the ceiling, thanks to the lid that could be pulled open with a string. Katara crossed her arms. “Hmm. That’s actually pretty smart.” “Okay, we’ve got four kinds of bombs. Smoke, smile, fire and-” The Mechanist cut Sokka off. “Stink. Never underestimate the power of stink!”

“We’re going to have to modify this to the new design, and fast.” The Mechanist said, as him, Sokka and Y/n worked on bringing the War Balloon he’d already constructed outside. “With both of you helping we should be able to get it up and running pretty quickly though!” “Yeah! And I’m pretty sure Aang and Katara will be able to hold off the Fire Nation with everyone’s help.” Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “They’ll be able to hold them off, but we can’t count on them too for too long, even if we have the skies. The Fire Nation’s army is huge, who knows how many soldiers will show up.” They got the balloon set up to do the necessary modifications. “Oh she’s right, time is not something we have on our side right now.” Sokka nodded in understanding. “Right. It’s only one modification though, so it can’t take terribly long, right?” “Let’s hope not.” Getting to work on the War Balloon, they probably could have gotten things done a little faster. But nonetheless, they got it done, and just in time too apparently. While Sokka and The Mechanist got ready to take off in the war balloon, Y/n went to find the others to see how they were holding up. “How are things going out here?” She asked, once she found Katara, Aang and Teo. The three looked at her with slight concern. “Not well.” Katara started. “Please tell us Sokka is coming with that war balloon soon.” Before she could give an answer, the war balloon rose up from behind them all, and started moving towards the battle field. From where they all stood, they could see Sokka and The Mechanist dropping giant slime bombs onto the Fire Nation soldiers. The bombs that they had didn’t stop the soldiers, however, and they were starting to advance closer to the Temple. Katara put a hand on Y/n’s shoulder, to get her attention. “What are they doing..?” She squinted in the direction of the war balloon, trying to see what was going on. “I’m not sur-” She cut herself off, watching as something fell from the basket of the war balloon. Was that the balloons fuel source? “Did they just push out their fuel source..?!” “What?!” A sudden explosion set off, a really really big one. The entire Temple got clouded in a ginormous wall of grey smoke. When the smoke dissipated, it was revealed that the Fire Nation was retreating. Aang pointed to where the army was leaving. “Look! They’re retreating!” Everyone started to cheer at the success, but the joy was cut short, as the war balloon started heading downwards quickly. Thankfully though, Aang was able to get Sokka and The Mechanist before the balloon crashed below. Currently, they all stood outside on the main terrace of the Air Temple. “You know what? I’m really glad you guys all live here now. It’s like the hermit crab.” Aang spoke, as he carefully picked up one of the hermit crabs near them all. “Maybe you weren’t born here, but you found this empty shell and made it your home. And now you protect each other.” Teo offered a smile to the boy. “That means a lot coming from you.” “Aang you were right about air power.” Sokka pointed to the sky. “As long as we’ve got the skies we’ll have the Fire Nation on the run!”

#avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar the last airbender x reader #atla x reader #reader insert #sokka x reader #sokka x y/n #sokka x you #team avatar #slowburn #book one allies

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snakgoblin · 4 years ago

Text

Fan appreciation post!

Server people!

@ashs-studio Hiiiiiii you're cool and definitely one of my favorite people everrrr thank you for everything you do for wittle ole meeeee

@royal-simp YOU. YOU'RE DOING AMAZING AND DONT LET ANYONE TELL YOU OTHERWISE. IF THEY DO, SEND THEM TO ME IMMA FIGHT THEM. Also how are we so similar?? Its creepy but I'm having fun. Also, that one rock I found at Buc-ee's, it's yours now.

@stardustfandoms9 Omg you're HILARIOUS!! I legit CACKLE at almost everything you say!! It's eventually gonna get to the point where if I just SEE you're online, I'm gonna laugh. Also as I wrote this, I kept thinking of that monkey video and it made me laugh everytime

@personwithalotoffandoms You, fr, no cap, make me SCREECH. ESPECIALLY in the vc cause you're so damn funny. Oml my sides still hurt from that reading of that one fic. Legit you are hilarious. Never forget that!

@its-my-destiny you're so sweet!!! And super funny too!! Also apparently you're my grandkid in IAQ's server?? I had no idea. Smh that familytree is so hard to keep up with. Also I love your random chaotic-ness, its simply beautiful. Oh and I hope you get some DQ soon!

@buttcats Can I just say, I love your tumblr name. But you're super nice and cool! I appreciate you for distracting me when I had that nightmare too. Really, ty for that. Also, everytime I see you log on I legit, irl, say "Eyyyy!!"

@pokepony Hi please don't steal my kneecaps for staying up until 5:50am to write this. I'm sure I'll wake up at 3pm tho and still get a decent amount of sleep! I'll let you know in the morning what happens. Regardless, you're hilarious and super fun to play with on gamenights!! I look forward to playing more soon!! Also, you're really nice and sweet and would love to become great friends with you!!

@incorrectanimaniacsquotes 1) I love your blog and 2) You did an OUTSTANDING job on the very well done and organized server. I'm happy to say that I'm very glad this was my first official discord server! Thank you for making it!! I'm making so many new friends and I have you to thank for it! So thank you!!!

@wakkodoodle you're so kind!! Legit when I saw you followed me, I felt like the grinch with that whole,, heart expanding thing. Not to forget you're really funny!! On game nights where we play jackbox, I love your answers every. single. time. I laugh at it and think "This HAS to be Doodle, it CAN'T be anyone else" Also I agree, doodlexiaq IS canon

Artists/tumblr!

@therivertm I love how you draw the Warners!! They look so feral and its beautiful! Also I saw you joined IAQ's server so I hope we become good friends!!!

@nat0041 I love your art style!! Its super cool and everytime I see it I get excited. Also, congrats on 300 followers!! You deserve each and everyone of them! If not more, that is

@wllyra I don't know you very much but you seem really sweet and fun! I love how you draw and your TAGS. They legit make me cackle. Everytime I'm like "OP, you CAN'T hide these in the tags!!"

@i-restuff I ADORE how you draw the Warners!! Not to forget your animations are AMAZING. You seem really cool tho and I feel you'd be a really fun person to hang out with!

There's so many more but its 5:50am and I keep accidentally deleting this so I'm just gonna post this and if I left anyone out, I will put them in cause this is subject to change anyways. Love you all!!

#fan appreciation #ilysm thank you #my sleep schedule is shit now #im having so much fun

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daredevilexchange · 4 years ago

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Want to be featured here? Head to this page and fill in the form!

See what this is about here, or if you’re using the app here.

What’s your fannish ID? AO3: original fanfic as brittlestars, plus fanworks of other fanworks (translations, fanart, podfic, etc.) as metaderivative; tumblr: metaderivative

What types of fanworks do you create? Mostly I read and write fanfiction. I sometimes record podfics or translate other people's Spanish-language fics to English. I also occasionally doodle fanart and make animated GIFs of fanart. I have super top-secret hidden wish to embody Matt's public identity suit from Mark Waid's comic run but cosplay ain't cheap.

What are your favourite types of fanworks, when you're not creating? On Discord I have fun reading and collaborating on headcanons, snippets-without-homes, and various other not!fic.

What do you like in particular about this fandom? Superhero origins and explorations of their powers: the alienation and responsibility, identity shenanigans and identity reveals, parallels to queer identities, the authorial struggle to express or represent unknowable perceptions of reality, the grey and overlapping borderland between sciences and the fantastical, the raw persistence of extraordinary faith and courage and hope and compassion wielded by everyman characters suddenly beset by fantastical power and equally impossible challenges, negotiation of evolving relationships with non-powered friends and ordinary citizens (especially outsider POV), the deep, abiding, gruff love of NYC and her denizens for her heroes.

Do you like participating in fan events? I love DDE and have participated three times. So much fun to see the work everyone produces, not just the excitement of your own personal gift and the challenge of your giftee's prompt(s). My first fics in the DD fandom were posted in response to significantowl's Daredevil bingo, which I won right at the deadline. The first Avocados server telephone exchange and the first MattFog week (DDE: check out @themattfogblog !) went swimmingly and I can't wait to participate again. I also love to be pulled into writing or creative sprints with a prompt and just a few minutes of preparation time; the words seem to flow particularly well when there's a clock ticking and friends also working away at similar ideas.I was introduced to Discord through VoiceTeam 2020, an annual podficcing collaborative extravaganza.

What about your creating process? Since joining various Discord servers I've found communal timed writing sprints to be incredibly fun and productive! I can take a prompt and produce 500-1,000 words of banter pretty quickly. Though these fics don't usually have all that much plot, they are often fun! I also occasionally dictate in-character voice notes on my phone, especially when my brain has an idea while I'm trying to fall asleep.

Do you interact a lot with other fans? Mostly I left comments on AO3 until I stumbled into some friendly Discord servers, where I'm now fairly active. I would love more interaction with Spanish-speaking fans especially. I am always happy to receive critique and constructive feedback on any of my works. Likewise, all of my work is remixable, with the request that you link back to me and let me know so I can be excited about it!

Is there any particular piece you'd like to showcase for this post? For recent works in the fandom, I'm surprised "Oscillations are steady; this is me (us) vacillating" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/30913472) hasn't had more hits. It's short and captures a certain bittersweetness to Matt & Foggy's strained relationship in early NMCU DD season 1. Also, Josie makes a small appearance and Josie is great! Read "Oscillations" if you want to get a sense of the typical rhythm of my fanfic, which can be boiled down to: not a lot of plot but tons of banter. The "Team Red Discord Server Inaugural Murder Mystery" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27648184) deserves special mention for being hugely collaborative and a fun story featuring lots of this fandom's favorite characters and some auxillary/peripheral characters as well. "Minds, and Hearts" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/14475504) is the fic I'm most proud of. It's in the fandom of The Flash TV show but can be read fandom-blind and deals with a lot of the same topics I like exploring in Daredevil; namely: how do everyday lives change when we suddenly have super-heroic powers of surveillance? "Fomites" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/8889973) is fun as a densely-interwoven mystery based on a board game but grounded in science -- and is therefore easy to read fandom-blind.

Do you have other fandoms you'd like to talk about? Look, I just really like superheroes okay? I fell for Cole & Zeke (inFAMOUS) shenanigans and bonding before I found Matt & Foggy. I love Cisco Ramon's simultaneous infectious enthusiasm and burdened reluctance in the face of superpowers on The Flash, and his abilities mirror Matt's in interesting ways. My longest-abiding curiosity is probably for Spider-Man, in almost all his incarnations.

Is there anything else you want to tell us about yourself? I'm probably not a sophisticated and compelling artificial intelligence masquerading as human. (I am not sophisticated.) Oh, and I heckin' love dogs.

Where can your fanworks be found? https://archiveofourown.org/users/brittlestars/works

Thank you, @metaderivative !

banner by @context-is-for-kingpins !

[ID on a white background, four black triangles that look like spotlights from above. Each illuminates one of the Defenders silhouetted in white: Jessica, Luke, Danny, Matt. A hand on the left is holding a pen writing the words Content Creator Spotlight. There is a little Punisher skull on the pen. End ID]

#daredevil #mattfoggy #Matt Murdock #foggy nelson #marvel #content creator spotlight

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arofili · 4 years ago

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how’d u get into writing? like, writing fic and being part of the silm community, being Known, that stuff? i’m really new to being a silm cc and i’d love to know ur advice! also: how’d u build up the confidence to start posting meta/hcs? bc i have a Lot of hcs and meta ideas but also i’m really anxious abt posting them bc yknow anxiety is like that

these are some great questions, anon! I’m gonna go through them one by one :)

how’d u get into writing?

not to be like, super cliche, but I’ve...kind of always been a writer? as long as I can remember I’ve been telling stories, and when I was too young to read or write I would dictate them to my mom, who would type them up for me and help me choose clipart illustrations to accompany them. when I got old enough I would always be writing; I attempted my first novel at age 9, and while that never really went anywhere I did finish the darn thing and it had some pretty sophisticated plot twists for a 9-year-old!

like, writing fic

around the same time I got into fandom! I was deep into Warrior cats (like. really deep) and I believe I started writing my first fics when I was like? 10 or 11? my memory is kind of fuzzy on the order of things, but I know I got an account on the Warriors forums when I was 9, and that I was already posting my fic there when I made my FFN account. I believe I was 12 when that happened, but who knows. I haven’t the faintest idea of what happened with those forums, but uhhh pretty much all of my Warriors fic is still up on FFN lmao. you could probably find that if you want to but um...maybe don’t?

my first Big Fic was a self-insert of...my entire 5th/6th grade class into the then-current timeline of the Warriors books...well. I honestly think that might still be my most popular fic of all time l m a o though I try not to think about it because Hashtag Cringe. though as much as I look back on that time with a “yikes,” I am very grateful for the Warriors fandom in a way? that place was so accepting and encouraging of OCs, of AUs, of completely disregarding canon, of worldbuilding that is completely alien from canon - it was a fantastic sandbox to begin with, there were so many ways to write stories and practically all of them were accepted and had fellow fans invested in them!

and being part of the silm community,

soooo I wrote Warriors fic until my freshman year of high school (wow sdjfhkdsjfh), which was when BOTFA came out, and I was absolutely wrecked by the ending and immediately started writing my own fixit fic. I was also super hooked on Kiliel! so that was my intro to the Tolkien fandom; and simultaneously, I joined tumblr, and, well, the rest is history tbh.

I honestly do not remember when I first read the Silm, but I kind of got into the more obscure parts of the Tolkien fandom through fandom osmosis, and I do have a vague memory of doodling the Finwean family tree in geometry class so it might have been later on in freshman year? that was also the same time I was having my Queer Awakening, and Russingon definitely contributed to me unlearning my internalized queerphobia, so probably around then.

anyway - queer awakening, tumblr, Tolkien, transitioning from FFN to AO3 - all of that was happening around the same time. I know I dipped my toes in the Silm fandom then, but I was still primarily a Hobbit fic writer focusing on Kiliel. toward the end of high school I kind of shifted to LOTR and (qp) Gigolas...but somehow the Silm fandom is the most active of the Big Three within the Tolkien fandom, and I was getting dragged further and further in.

it wasn’t until @backtomiddleearthmonth 2019, my freshman year of college, that I really dove into writing Silm fic! I picked some Silm-specific bingo cards and never looked back :D that was really not all that long ago but I am obsessed in a way I don’t really remember being even with TH/LOTR, I obviously cannot see the future but I anticipate hanging out here for a long time. the Silm fandom is great overall and there’s just so much material to work with!! <3

being Known, that stuff?

so I don’t really have a whole lot of context on how “well known” I am in the fandom?? definitely within the past year and a half or so I’ve noticed that I like, get asks like this, and get a significant amount of notes on my posts, and I’ve made a lot of fandom friends especially since I joined some Silm servers on Discord (hmu if you want invites; I’m on the SWG server and 2 general Silm servers and the Russingon server) this past year. and I have 3,000 followers as of this month - and while ever since I hit 1k I don’t particularly pay attention to my follower count I can definitely say that I have more engagement now than I used to! but it took me a long time to build this “audience,” I suppose; I’ve been around the Tolkien fandom since late 2014, so nearly 6 years of this, lol.

really the best way to build a following, in my experience, is to just post a lot of stuff. when I started making edits I got a lot more engagement, because for a long time I would post one every day! (I made them in batches and queued them; I didn’t actually make one every day lol...and now I’m too busy to do that, so I just make edits for events and whenever I feel like it) And I have [checks ao3] 145 works in the Silm fandom as of today - I’m fairly prolific! I’ve come to generally expect 3-10 comments on most of my oneshots, which is a lot more than I used to have back in the day. consistency and quantity are more likely to attract people to your work - and quality, of course.

also: how’d u build up the confidence to start posting meta/hcs?

I’ve been writing since I was very young, and I’ve been writing fic for like...11 years? I think? in that time I’ve produced a lot of garbage, but imo most of that was in my Warrior cats phase, so I came into the Tolkien fandom with confidence in myself and my writing. I’m also working on original fiction on the side (I hope to eventually become a published fantasy author, but right now school takes up most of my time that I don’t devote to fandom, which gives me more immediate gratification and also is just Very Fun) and I know I’m a good writer.

basically, I’ve been doing this for like...half my life, and I’m still fairly young, so I’ve had time to build up my skill and confidence and I know I’m only going to get better with time. you will get better with practice. like I said, I’ve written a lot of terrible stuff, and it’s only through sucking for a long time that I’ve gotten to the point I am now. and I am far from perfect; I know I still have lots of room to grow!

for meta and headcanons specifically, I started with writing fic, and then when I didn’t think I could stretch something into an entire fic I would just make a hc post. I have a vivid memory of writing my first meta in a notebook during driver’s ed because it was so goddamn boring and I had Thoughts about Tauriel and Thranduil!

in my experience, meta comes from having Opinions and wanting to share them and most importantly to back them up - you need to have sources! you need to have reasons! you need to have justification! otherwise it’s not meta, it’s a headcanon or an AU. which is fine!! I love hc/AU!!! but they are not the same as meta, and I’m a stickler for being accurate when it comes to meta. if you have sources and shit to back you up, that will help you build the confidence to share your meta.

sharing disinformation and passing it off as meta instead of just coming out and saying this is a headcanon/baseless theory/AU or whatever is such a fandom pet peeve of mine; it’s not bad for something to not be Accurate! you just have to have that disclaimer - and even when you’re writing meta, you’re offering an interpretation of the text, and you need to acknowledge that other interpretations also exist and are valid.

um. I hope this answers your questions? and sorry for basically word-vomiting my entire life story, lol. this post got long; the main reason I’ve written so much fic is because I really just cannot shut up for the life of me. sooo if you can tear of that filter of being shy and just. say shit. you can go so far~!

OH and one more thing - I can’t believe I almost forgot this - but part of being a writer is participating in the community. this is code for LEAVE A DAMN COMMENT IF YOU LIKE A FIC. that’s how I made most of my fandom friends before Discord! I follow @ao3feed-silmarillion and stalk that blog for new Silm fics; I read the ones that interest me and comment on them.

I know this is not really the most common way for folks to find fic but it’s so rewarding to interact with new fic, new writers, new commentors, new stories - you can find gems that don’t rise to the top of the kudos/bookmark lists; you become friends with your fellow writers; you can watch people grow and change; you support smaller content creators. yeah, you might not be getting Just The Best Stuff, but it’s so so so worth it!!

and if you make friends in the comment section of other people’s fic - I guarantee you some of them will go to your AO3 profile and check out your fic, too! and they’ll leave comments! this is a fic community, and that’s what I cherish about fandom most of all, tbh.

anyway - again - sorry for rambling so much, but I hoped this helped! feel free to send in another ask, or to come talk to me off anon if you’d like! and definitely send me your stuff if/when you decide to share it; I would love to support you!!! <3

#silm #silm fandom #silmarillion #fan culture #tmi anna #(for real this time sjdfhdkfh)#tefain nin #long post #anon #answers

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fallout-lou-begas · 4 years ago

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i want to make a comic or write a fic for my courier but im worried that no one would like it. did u feel that way before putting ikroah and if so how did u get over it / deal with it?

Hi, anon! I’m really glad you asked this question. I’m going to be as blunt as I can because I don’t think it does anyone any favors to sugar-coat it.

You have to do it for yourself, because you want to, because you need to; you have to be willing and able and wanting to work on it as if nobody will ever see it because whenever you create art, there’s always the chance that nobody actually will, but the act of simply creating it must fulfill or provide catharsis for you all the same.

This isn’t to say that it’s likely that literally nobody will ever see anything you create. Fandom especially and the creation of fanfic and fanart is a social, collaborative, mutually supportive space. But the point that I’m trying to drive in is that unless this is something that you want to do on its on merits, for its own sake, just because the act of writing or drawing makes you feel good, it can be hard to continue working on or remain committed to a project in which external validation just simply isn’t guaranteed. This feeling isn’t something you inherently, permanently have or not have. It can come and go, people can get inspired or burnt out, and rather than being something you just automatically possess, sometimes it takes a really good idea for you to get passionate about in order to get it. I’d be far less keen to work on IKROAH than I am if I wasn’t so deeply and personally invested in it and the story I want to tell through it.

Now, I don’t think that every project anyone ever works on needs to be taken with the utmost seriousness. It’s okay to start a big sweeping epic fanfiction and only ever write a few chapters because the more important thing, to me, is the craft you hone and the fun you have and yes, sometimes the friends you make along the way. The current project scope of IKROAH is...enormous, with a conservative trajectory of roughly 100 issues. I genuinely cannot guarantee that it will ever be “finished,” though what keeps me working on it aren’t the expectations of readers or fans or this feeling that I “need to.” What keeps me working on it is the fact that I just love doing it. This is the feeling that I think is most important for any writer or artist to have because if you strip away literally every external motivator, and external motivators can be oh-so fickle, so long as you have this feeling, you’ll keep creating.

I also wanted to mention that as for making IKROAH specifically, the actual hurdle that I really had difficulty getting over was this feeling that I shouldn’t bother until my art was good enough to justify working on it. I want to say right now that if you feel this feeling, it’s bullshit, and there’s a phenomenal way around it: instead of practicing until you’re “good enough” to start a project, just start the project and make it your practice, and you’ll inevitably get better. It’s...a little embarrassing how the earlier issues of the comic are kind of clunky and Agnes’ character design is really inconsistent because I hadn’t gotten as good as I am now at drawing her yet, but actually making this comic was the best practice that I could have ever asked for. I made IKROAH a comic because while I could just get better at art by sketching and doodling all day, a directional project to cut my teeth on has been far, far more rewarding than that ever could be.

I hope that this helps, anon.

#asks #anon #ikroah meta #advice

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foxtophat · 4 years ago

Link

(still trying to figure out how i link these but whatever)

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!! i decided to just sit down and hammer out the last edits for this lil one-shot so i could get it out today!

i’m gonna be real with you: the only reason i wrote this fic is because i couldn’t get the idea out of my head. you weren’t supposed to see mercyverse for another month, honestly!!! but it’s been cold as fuck here and it’s made me fantasize about classic bed-sharing tropes, and so here we are!

this is a bit of a slice of life, to sort of give an idea of how day-to-day these guys all interact, especially now that carmina doesn’t have to pretend john doesn’t exist. plus, i’m starting to see how the caches might be involved in the overarching plot???? awesome!!!

as usual, the full text is below the cut for my friends who don’t wanna leave tumblr. i hope you enjoy -- feel free to leave a comment, i loooove hearing from readers. likes and reblogs are also great! kudos are fantastic! adding to the hit counter is just fine by me!!! anything you do to show support for fanfic is a good thing imo. i hope y’all have a happy wintereenmas or whatever and i will see you guys in 2021 with more mercyverse :)

The best thing Nick can say about the blizzard currently sweeping the county is that he could see that it was coming. They'd gotten almost a foot of snow the night before, which gets him worried about getting snowed in, and as the day progresses, the sky grows an ominous gray that Nick recognizes from a lifetime of living in the area. He knows that they probably only have a few hours left before they're going to want to get inside and avoid the worst a winter storm has to offer.

Nick and John spend the entire morning hauling wood into the house, while Kim does her best to clean out the broken chimney and ensure they won't die of smoke inhalation. They also pull in some pre-made stock that Kim had left in the freezer after it had gotten cold enough to use, as well as a few smaller pieces for miscellaneous projects. But with the storm rolling in overhead, they don't have long; they end up leaving a lot of things for later as the wind whips up around them and turns the snow sideways.

By two in the afternoon, they've closed the doors to officially bunker down for the rest of the blizzard. They have enough wood to last them three days, plus their military rations and plenty of coffee, so Nick isn't particularly concerned about their safety. The only thing he's really got to contend with is boredom, which is easier to stave off in the first few hours of captivity than it is later in the evening.

For the most part, Nick passes the time by sharpening their knives, cleaning their guns, and checking the radio every hour for any emergencies. The blizzard ensures that not many people are on, but at least he gets to check in with Jerome and make sure that Grace is safely in her bunker. It's unlikely they'll get in contact with the trailer park until after the worst passes, but that just means Nick's gonna worry about those jackasses all night.

Kim is probably the only one comfortable with the downtime, making the most of things as she chews on the radio's instructions. When the technical jargon gets to be too much, she switches to entertaining Carmina, who gets bored quick when her only job is to keep the fire going. The easiest distraction comes from card games; the deck they'd had in the bunker had shrunk to only 32 cards, but now that they've got a full deck to work with, Carmina is eager to relearn and master games like Go Fish and Old Maid. Nick doubts Jacob planned to be entertaining kids with his survival gear, but it's not like the guy's gonna complain.

Carmina isn't the only one that Jacob is keeping busy beyond the grave. Ever since they found that cache of his, John has been borderline obsessed with figuring out what the point of it could be. He'll go all day without mentioning the puzzle plaguing him, but any available downtime has him staring at the map and its coordinates. Nick and Kim have both been keeping an eye on it, just in case it turns into something worse than his usual tunnel-vision, but so far it hasn't gotten out of hand. If anything, John seems more aware and alert now that he has something to focus on, and now Nick can even pretend he's a normal guy for conversations at a time before being reminded otherwise.

Of course, the blizzard's making it impossible to find alternate distractions. John does spend part of the afternoon in his room, but eventually, he can't help but come downstairs to mull over the map. There's only one problem with that — they've hung the map up in the radio room, so there's about ten minutes every hour where Nick has no choice but to sit in John's presence. It probably wouldn't bother him so much if there was somewhere else either of them could be, but they're stuck for the foreseeable future. John's looming is just going to be part of Nick's life until the storm passes.

In the interest of keeping the peace, Nick reluctantly tries to have the same level of interest in the random dots that John shows. His attention, however, is distracted by the penciled-in changes that he, Kim and John have all been making to the landscape. The river's wider in some places now, and there are doodles of trees in spaces that were once open fields. A few X's mark places where bridges have collapsed, and Kim's circled anywhere they've made radio contact with. Their notations have scattered across the valley, and have even spread over to the river region thanks to Hurk and his raider gang, but they still don't know anything about the mountains, or even the spaces that are supposedly occupied by bow-wielding religious nutjobs. It's going to be a while before any of them get the nerve to go poking that particular hornet's nest.

John has his little notebook open, but he's not writing anything down. Nick's not sure what he would even put down, since they haven't gotten any more leads since early autumn, but he's always got the thing tucked in a pocket nowadays. Maybe Nick should be mad he outright stole that resource from the rest of them, but — well, come on. He can't yell at the man for taking up journaling, not without flying in the face of every therapist Nick had pretended not to listen to. It's just... well, what the hell is there for him to write down?

"Are you staring for any particular reason?" John asks, because of course he does.

"That's rich, coming from the guy lurking over my shoulder all day." Nick flips off the static-ridden radio frequency, leaning back in his chair so that he can get a better look at the map push-pinned to the wall. "I hear if you look at it just right, you can see a sailboat."

John's clearly not much of a Kevin Smith fan, because he only sighs heavily at Nick's flat joke. "If you have something better for me to be doing, I'm all ears," he says, revealing to Nick at last just how bored he really is. Weirdly enough, being in the same boat as John is somehow reassuring.

"Okay, fine. At least tell me what you're staring at, so I know what to fake interest in."

Even though it's mostly a joke, it lands softly enough that John doesn't take offense. Stuffing the notebook in his back pocket, he shakes his head, gesturing at the map. Getting John to explain himself is usually like pulling teeth, but right now he seems relieved to have someone to bounce his thoughts off of. It's a long way away from the guy Nick remembers saving, enough so that it almost catches his full interest.

"It's nothing in particular, really. I've already spent hours staring at this thing, but I'm... still looking for a pattern, I guess. Jacob was paranoid and secretive, but if there's a hidden code buried in these coordinates, it's beyond me to see it. And the snow was already keeping us from traveling too far — now with this blizzard, we're likely stuck with no new information until spring ..."

John sighs, rubbing his forehead as the pretense finally abandons him. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do until then."

That's certainly a feeling that Nick can relate to. Nick is less of a workaholic than John might be, but that doesn't mean he won't go stir-crazy without his own set of chores. Hell, that's why he's been hanging around the radio in between games of cards with the girls and cleaning whatever he can get his hands on. It must suck extra for John; the guy's been spinning his tires in the dirt for years, probably, and being this close to having a purpose beyond doing whatever chores Nick sets him to must be irritating.

Nick props one leg up against the wall, tapping his boot against the wood as he ponders the dots scattered around the map. There are a few still in the valley, but there's no driving until they thaw out. The points in the mountains are probably inaccessible to anybody, and who knows when they'll get to investigate the old vet center or find the Wolf's Den. There are a couple points nearer the trailer park, though, and not for the first time Nick tries to measure the distance from Hurk to the various red dots. There's one near the lumber mill, and one near where that godawful statue was, and of course one right smack dab in the middle of the original Peggy compound.

Nick can't imagine his truck making it all the way there and back, not without more information about the roads. Hurk might not have the same trouble. "I could send the trailer park a couple coordinates," he points out. "They might get to search before us, and it could cut the work in half."

Despite John's scowl, he only sounds tired as he replies, "I've considered it, but I don't trust them. Then again, I hardly trust myself, so who knows."

"I guess you're shit outta luck, then," Nick says. John takes obvious offense at Nick brushing him off, but hey, what else is Nick supposed to do? "God's giving you a freebie with this blizzard. Maybe you should try catching up on your sleep, or something."

"And ruin the precarious schedule I'm keeping?"

"Jesus, then go read a book! Just — you know, quit hovering over me all day. Don't you know how to entertain yourself?"

John seems unphased by Nick's half-hearted outburst. "This is how I entertain myself. Maps, resources, legal documents — that's probably the only decent outlet I've ever had." He stares at Nick's boot, unwilling to meet his eyes. "At least, it's the only one healthy enough to keep."

That is probably a safe bet, Nick realizes, quickly trying to backpedal away from the open scab that is John's history. "Uh, well, what about before the cult?"

John surprises them both with a brief laugh. "If I could source some coke, then yes, I would be entertained."

"Jesus, John."

"I'm not known for my healthy self-care habits," John points out, a little too smug to be truly self-deprecating. At least he seems to understand what Nick had been getting at originally, deferring with a vague hand-wave. "Is my loitering in the kitchen going to be too smothering for you, too, or is that okay?"

Nick rolls his eyes, flipping the radio back on to scan the channels once again. "It's fine, whatever. Just as long as you've got something better to entertain yourself than snaking the whiskey Jacob left."

"I'm more of a gin guy," John admits.

"Of course you are."

It's still a relief, though, knowing they aren't keeping an alcoholic too near his fix. On top of that, John's relaxed disregard for his past vices settles nerves Nick hadn't even realized were rattled. Sure, there's probably a whole other box of American Psycho- esque worms waiting to be opened up from John's time before Eden's Gate, but at least he seems to have comfortably packed that part of his life away for now. Unlike talking about the cult, John has no trouble dropping the conversation, just as casually as he'd brought it up. He retreats into the kitchen to mull over whatever he's written down already, leaving behind no traumatic story or sad-eyed stare — just the casual admission that he would really like to do some drugs.

Weirdly enough, that is probably the most respectable thing about John to date.

Nick spends another fifteen minutes checking the radio, scanning the channels he knows people use most. He winds up with nothing to show for it — either the storm is making radio communication impossible, or everybody else has given up on their radios. It's only after he's cleared the range twice that he flips the radio off and escapes back to Kim and Carmina, leaving John in the kitchen with a broad, somehow-sarcastic gesture towards the now unoccupied radio nook.

Carmina ropes Nick into a game of Go Fish, which Kim seems keen on losing. Nick isn't surprised — Carmina is a wily player, which is to say that she tries to bluff her way through hands with all the grace of a sledgehammer. Kim's not as willing to put up with cheating as Nick is, but neither of them are capable of even pretending to believe Carmina's poker face. It's going to be a problem one day, but Nick isn't exactly ready to teach his daughter how to lie to his face.

Well, that is until she and Nick are on their third round of Go Fish, and Nick has had to pretend not to see through all of Carmina's gambits.

He asks her if she has any threes, and she scrunches her nose up as she glances meaningfully at her cards. "Go fish," she says, making Nick regret not having Kim sit right behind their daughter as a referee.

"Fine," he grumbles, "If you say so."

Kim blinks skeptically at the pants she's fixing, but she doesn't offer Nick any out. If it weren't for his clumsy hands, maybe he could use darning socks and patching shirts as an excuse to quit playing, but as it stands, the only thing he has other than getting trounced is staring at the map with John. And since he already tried that and found it to be mildly aggravating at best...

"You know, this would be more fun with more people," Nick says, desperately glancing at Kim.

Kim, of course, gives him no quarter. "Why don't you ask John," she suggests rhetorically.

"John," Carmina calls out, "Do you wanna play Go Fish?"

Nick opens his mouth to chastise Carmina, but he realizes there's nothing to discipline her for. Especially not when John flippantly replies, "I think your father's looking to play with fewer cheaters, not more."

"I'm not cheating!" Carmina exclaims, not-so-surreptitiously pressing her cards into her lap to ensure nobody's looking at them. Between that and her guiltily furrowed brow, there's no hiding it. Her poker face needs a lot of work.

"Go Fish isn't even worth cheating at," Nick sighs, gesturing for her cards. "If that's the way you wanna play, at least do it the right way. Here, gimme your cards — John, come over here so I can teach my daughter how to lie to your face."

As if playing a game of cards with John wasn't enough to excite Carmina, she's doubly over the moon when he tells her the rules. After all, a ten-year-old girl is the prime demographic for the game Bullshit, especially when she's given carte blanche to shout cuss words at her dad. On top of that, it seems like bluffing really is half of the fun for his daughter — which is a little intimidating, sure, but at least he knows she's smart enough to understand the utility of lying.

John is... unenthusiastic, to say the least, but that only makes the prospect of humiliating him that much better. A few weeks ago, Nick would've thought John was too fragile to be messed with, but now there's a bounce in his step that will make taking him down easier. He's got to do something to remind himself that this nearly-tolerable man is usually a miserable sonofabitch.

Unfortunately, John has a fantastic poker face. Nick figured that from the get-go, but it's still daunting to play against a bored, uninterested party. That's probably why Carmina avoids John in favor of hounding Nick, calling out "bullshit!" with delightful glee whenever she thinks Nick has dropped the wrong face card or played a nine instead of a King. On the one hand, Nick appreciates that he can read her as well as she can, but on the other hand, he'd really like a chance to beat John. So far, he's the only one who's called John out, and all he has to show for it is the extra six cards in his hand.

Although Kim is on standby for this round, she keeps flashing Nick amused grins whenever Carmina calls bullshit. Nick almost hopes John can hold it together to be mundane for two entire rounds of cards because he wouldn't stand a chance against Kim.

Case in point, John lays down two cards that are meant to be threes, and Kim clicks her tongue disapprovingly. Carmina frowns up at her mom, who only shrugs and suggests, "I would call him out, if I were you."

John's neutral frown doesn't change. "Last I checked, you weren't playing," he says.

Kim only shrugs in response. Nick furrows his brow at Kim while Carmina squints suspiciously from the discard pile to John and then back again. Of course, encouraging a ten-year-old to swear is always going to win out, and so Carmina wrinkles her nose and calls John out with a slightly uncertain, "Okay, bullshit."

Without so much as a grimace of defeat, John lets Carmina flip his played cards — one three, and one dirty, rotten, lying, bullshit seven .

"That's what I thought," Kim says, flippantly triumphant. "Guess you're not as hard to read as you thought."

Nick sure can't tell what John's thinking as he lifts one shoulder noncommittally. "I stand corrected."

"Wait," Nick asks, "What gave it away?"

"I'm not helping you too , Nick," Kim laughs. "That wouldn't be fair."

"It's not exactly fair to help Carmina," John points out. Nick bets he's just as interested in what tell Kim noticed, although he manages to be less obvious about it. At least he can't crack Kim's smug smile any better than Nick, which is some small compensation.

Nick manages to win this hand, if only because his play strategy involves lying as little as possible. That seems to work against Carmina no problem, but Nick suspects John threw the game out of personal disinterest. If it weren't for the howling winds whistling through the roof and second story, John would probably excuse himself from another hand by retreating upstairs, but as it is he manages to sit through one more round of cards, this time with Kim joining in.

Carmina's poker-face doesn't improve by leaps and bounds, exactly, but she manages to fool Nick into picking up a fat stack of cards, so that's something. Too bad he'd been trying to teach her to lie to John , not her parents. Well — at least she's a nice enough kid to only do it for fun. He hopes, anyway.

Kim makes John's loss look more organic, at least, and she doesn't rub it in too badly when she wins. It's extra kind of her considering Nick is the one who called her last play bullshit, leaving him to rot in miserable third place after both his girls. Well, fine . At least Carmina seemed to have fun, even if Nick is now sitting with nearly half a deck in his hands. If the blizzard keeps up for too long, they might have to graduate to poker.

Before they can play any more card games, though, they take time out for dinner. It's almost normal, sitting around the fireplace with their military rations and some hot broth — if they were eating Marie Calendar pot-pies and watching Christmas movies, Nick would even be able to ignore John's presence sticking out like a sore thumb.

The next best thing to watching movies is talking about them, which has become something of a tradition between the Ryes. It all started in the bunker, where Kim and Nick ran out of normal Christmas stories and began taking turns narrating whatever holiday movies they could remember. They've run through all the memorable Rankin & Bass flicks, as well as a couple more contemporary ones, so they're starting to reach for their personal favorites or the very bottom of the barrel plots.

Nick intends to be paying Jingle All the Way a tribute tonight, but as soon as he mentions that the Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle is one of his favorites, he's interrupted by John snorting derisively.

"Let me guess," Nick snaps, "You're one of those jackasses who pretends Die Hard is a legitimate Christmas movie just so he doesn't have to watch good, family-friendly content."

"It is a legitimate Christmas movie," John responds, just petulantly enough to tell Nick he hit the nail on the head.

"Look, Kim and I have already had this discussion — just because it takes place during Christmas doesn't make it a Christmas movie . Set dressing alone isn't enough!"

John raises his eyes towards the ceiling, which is as subtle as his eyerolls can get. "Whatever you say, Nick."

"What's Die Hard about?" Carmina asks, excitedly guessing, "Does Santa get to shoot people in it?"

"That would be a good Christmas movie," Nick replies. "No, it's just about some guy who has to fight bad guys in a building."

"During Christmas," Kim points out.

"Okay, fine during Christmas. But nobody's dressed up like Santa, nobody sings any carols, and there sure as hell isn't any Christmas magic that saves the day, so it doesn't count!"

"So what does happen?" Carmina asks.

Damn it — Nick should have known that talking about an action flick would immediately disinterest her towards any sloppy story about consumerism. She doesn't even know what a mall is — but she knows how to shoot a handgun, and now that Nick's thinking about it, she might need to use the duct-tape shoulder holster trick one day. It would be pretty bad-ass if she knew how, anyway.

"Okay, fine, I'll do it real quick. I don't remember all the parts, so Kim, you gotta help."

Real quick turns out to take almost as much time as the movie itself had. Kim interjects whenever Nick forgets a plot point, but at least he remembers the core conflict. Sort of, anyway — by the time he's done recounting John McClane's tale, John looks visibly dissatisfied, and Kim has a "well, sort of" expression on her face that implies he didn't quite nail the execution. Well, who cares what they think? All that matters is that Carmina is entertained, and of course she is. After all, narrated or not, it's still Die Hard . Just so long as she doesn't ask about the sequels, they should be okay.

The wind is still whipping overhead, and Nick can see nothing beyond the windows. There's no telling how late it's gotten. Although his internal clock insists it can't have been that long since sundown, Carmina has been yawning for a while now, and the fire's gone down again. It looks like sleeping through the storm is the only pastime left for Nick to try.

Carmina takes over stoking the fire for the final time before bed, while Kim makes her way upstairs to gather as much of their bedding as she can carry. John follows reluctantly behind, clearly unhappy with the prospect of facing his own cold room, but Nick figures he can deal for five damn minutes. For his part, Nick busies himself checking the radio one last time, just in case there's an emergency. He doesn't know what they'd be able to do if there was one, but that doesn't stop him from checking anyway.

With the radio situated just under the stairs, it's easy to listen in to Kim stomping around in the room above, desperate to keep her temperature up. Nick had put off too many attic repairs before this winter — he's going to have to make up for that in spring, when he and John can worm their way into the rafters and ensure that their next winter won't turn the bedrooms into a cold wasteland. Of course, even if they did patch up the gaps in the floorboards and do their best to insulate the attic, not much can beat a genuine fire in the middle of a snowstorm.

Nick isn't even paying attention to the radio, so he flips it off and trusts that everyone can keep themselves safe for another night. He hears the whump of fabric as Kim tosses their two biggest, least moldy blankets down for Carmina to start with, and the creak of footsteps on the landing overhead. Kim's voice isn't raised, but it carries down to Nick clear as a bell.

"John, you'll freeze if you stay up here," she says. "Get your stuff and come downstairs."

"It's not that cold," John says, attempting to deflect from one weak excuse with another. "I doubt Nick approved that suggestion."

Well, not technically, no, but Nick had sort of assumed they were already all on the same page. What does John think Nick's gonna do, force him to freeze upstairs so he can hog the fireplace all to himself?

Kim doesn't give the excuses a chance to breathe, replying with parental exasperation. "He and I both agree it's too cold to sleep upstairs." Nick can hear the teasing plain as day when she adds, "Just don't be weird about it."

Sure enough, suggesting John might be making things awkward is enough to get him to shut up and follow orders. Nick briefly longs for the days when John would mutely nod and do as told without any additional goading, but only for a second. Even that is long enough retrospection to remind Nick of how creepy and genuinely alarming it had been. Sure, John might get argumentative or exasperated now, but at least there's an actual person to communicate with. Nick might want to kick his ass more now than before, but he absolutely hated dealing with the hollow-eyed monster John had been.

Besides, it's way more satisfying being a dick to him now that he actually gets offended.

Despite John's furrowed-brow glares, Nick doesn't comment whatsoever on him trailing downstairs after Kim, clutching two actual blankets and a tarp that's weather-worn enough to pass muster. He stands and waits for someone to point him in the right direction as Kim and Carmina do their best to bundle together a soft place on the floor, but Nick studiously ignores him until he makes a decision himself. John takes a spot close to the fireplace, off to the right of where the girls are setting up. It's still plenty removed enough, so that nobody will get the wrong idea and think John is supposed to be welcome down here. Nick wonders who he's trying to convince, but there are so many damn demons in the man's head, it's anybody's guess.

With the fire roaring for the last time that night, all the blankets arranged and everybody looking exhausted despite not doing anything all day, Nick finally gets to crawl into bed and put this whole goddamn blizzard behind him. Hopefully, the weather has the common sense to clear up tomorrow — for now, it's time to shut out the cold entirely.

He must be tired. Nick barely stays conscious as Kim and Carmina climb under the blankets, the cool air rapidly warming as they begin to shift around and get comfortable. He rouses a few times at first as Carmina kicks his leg and Kim bumps into him, but eventually, he finds himself dozing in the silence of a quiet house. Far above them, the wind is whipping through the attic, but from down here, it sounds like a generic white-noise machine; coupled with the crackling fire, Nick is lulled to sleep by the sounds of peaceful normalcy.

Who knows how long it is before Nick finds himself conscious again. Even then, he only wakes enough to hear the dying fire popping by his feet. Maybe he should stoke it. But that would mean moving, and Nick is weighted down on either side beneath warm blankets, so that's a hard no. He tries first to roll towards Kim and Carmina, ready to curl into a ball and conserve even more heat, but his right arm is stuck. It takes a few bleary-eyed blinks to realize what's pinned him down, but he's barely coherent enough to make sense of it.

Sometime in the night, John must've migrated from the no-man's-land he'd made for himself towards the Rye's pile of blankets. Unsurprising, really — but more than a little awkward, given how he's pressed into Nick's side, pinning Nick's arm in place. Worse yet, half of his blankets have been absorbed into the mess that Nick's been using to keep warm, which is going to make extracting himself tricky if not impossible.

While he tries to figure out how to avoid making this mortifying situation worse, Nick watches John for any signs of consciousness. The guy usually sleeps light, but Nick watches his breathing for a solid minute and doesn't catch anything. Either his poker-face is just that good, or John is actually asleep. Deeply, peacefully asleep. Nick had assumed that was impossible.

If Nick were a better person, he'd probably be thankful to see it. Glad to know that John's insomnia might finally be coming to an end. But Nick is mostly just an exhausted, anxious mess, and now he's just wondering how to get out of the situation he's found himself in.

John shifts, and like a guilty ten-year-old, Nick immediately closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep. If he's lucky, John will roll away of his own volition, or at least move enough to let Nick roll over himself. If only he'd decided to sleep on Kim's side — she wouldn't have the same trouble Nick has. She'd just kick him away and be done with it.

Slowly, John moves away from Nick. The relief is short-lived as John pulls back the covers enough to send a cold chill down Nick's side; it's a split-second decision that John immediately regrets, hissing under his breath and letting the blankets fall back into place as he recoils from the freezing temperatures.

Nick can't help his quiet huff of amusement — which is enough to break the illusion that he'd been asleep in the first place. He could probably still fake it, but if he does, John will definitely try to move his blankets, and that is going to be a much bigger problem than tolerating John in his personal space.

"Quit squirming so much," Nick mutters. "Gonna let in the cold."

John is silent and tense beside him, but he does stop squirming. It's like lying near a tense bar of iron. After a brief struggle to figure out what to say, John's embarrassment catches in his voice as he apologizes. "I'm sorry," he rasps. "I — must have been tired."

Nick sighs. "Just don't crush my arm again."

Even though John moves as though Nick threatened him, he stops short of retreating from the blankets entirely. Nick can only imagine how cold it must be — every breath of his that makes it above the blanket-line comes with a faint puff of visible air. No matter how humiliating it might be to cuddle up to Nick, it doesn't seem like John had much of a choice in the matter.

Before John can decide to try escaping again, Nick repeats, "Whatever you do, don't let in the cold."

In for a penny, Nick decides, worming deeper into the makeshift bed so that John can have more room. Rolling over is the easiest way to avoid the mortifying process of finding a comfortable sleeping arrangement. Eventually, they wind up back-to-back; Nick normally wouldn't be able to stand John touching him, but the additional body-heat does a lot to soothe Nick's reservations. Who knew all he needed to tolerate John's physical presence would be cold weather and exhaustion?

The Deputy, probably, which only makes Nick grin in tired relief. At least they would be glad to know that Nick's grown as a person. They'd probably be glad to learn he's finally gotten on-board with not murdering the Seeds in cold blood — even if it took an apocalypse to get there. If they could see the shit he's gotten himself into now, they'd probably...

He sighs. It must be a heavier sound than he imagined, because John whispers, "What?"

"Nothing," Nick says immediately, as default an answer as John's yeses are. But that's not fair, he doesn't think, because they never let John get away with his obvious deflections. As late as it is, it's easy to blame his guilt on his exhaustion. "Just thinking about Rook," he admits.

"Oh."

John is clearly uncomfortable with the topic, but he doesn't react when Nick continues sleepily, "They'd get a kick outta this, is all."

John hums. It's a quiet noise, but Nick can feel it vibrate through John's shirt. If there are two people Nick hates bringing Rook up around, it's Sharky and John. Sure, Sharky's crush was the one that was reciprocated, but Dep had always treated John's flat-footed overtures like creepy compliments instead of outright threats. They'd probably figured John's crush was superficial, whereas Sharky's had been more real than probably anything else Nick had seen the poor sap go through. John's infatuation had been about power, control, and Joseph goddamn Seed. Still, Nick can't help but wonder just how much of it might've been real to John at the time.

"They had a bad sense of humor," John finally responds, quietly enough that Nick almost misses the hurt.

"Terrible," Nick agrees.

When John sighs, Nick recognizes it as a sign of defeat. Whatever he's debating with himself, he's clearly lost. Although he doesn't speak up again, Nick isn't sure he's gone back to sleep. He sure hopes he didn't just instill another restless night in the guy, but that's John's burden to bear. Maybe he can use it to finally find some common ground with Sharky.

Nick isn't even sure that he can fall back asleep, but that doesn't seem to matter. Before he knows it, he's being woken up once more — this time by a glance of sunlight coming in through the upper part of the windows. It's just enough light to wake him, but he spends an exhausted minute staring at the wall over Kim's shoulder as he debates whether or not he's really committing this time. He's going to need to use the bathroom sooner or later — and just thinking that is enough to tell Nick that he's not getting back to sleep again.

John's back is still facing Nick, and Kim rolls away as soon as Nick starts to squirm, which leaves his path to escape much more open than it was a few hours ago. He manages to pull himself free without waking anyone else, but as soon as he does, John worms into the warm spot left behind. Nick should probably be upset, but mostly he just needs to pee. He can kick John out of his spot after he takes care of himself.

Nick leaves the rest of them to sleep as he tiptoes across the living room to the front door. Unfortunately, the door only wedges open an inch before it hits a wall of snow. Unwilling to wake anyone else up with catastrophic noise, Nick heads upstairs, going for the broken window in John's room. It's freezing up here, cold enough to keep meat until spring, and Nick pulls his flannel closer as he crosses the room, trying not to take too much stock of his surroundings. He doesn't care about the tallies John used to carve in the wall by his bed, and he definitely doesn't care to snoop through the pile of clothes that John's been growing in the corner. What he does care about is how easy it is to crawl out onto the roof from the window — after all, this isn't the first time Nick's been snowed in, and he's made escaping his childhood home an art-form.

There's a good three and a half feet of snow on the ground below, blocking any exit from the first floor. At least the gray sky above is calm, and the weather seems to have calmed down some. They'll have to prepare for another couple of inches before the week's out, but Nick bets the worst of it is over. Now he can think about breakfast — more specifically, coffee — and debate the best way to clear the doorways. They need a path out to the hangar, although they can wait another day or two before they'll need to press the matter. Nick's still convinced there's a set of tire chains hiding away in there, but it's not like the roads will be in any condition to drive on for a while yet...

Nick spends so much time thinking about what he's got to do, he forgets to consider how willing the rest of the house will be to pitch in. The top-of-the-snow sunlight isn't enough heat to make up for the lack of a fire, and getting Kim out from under the blankets is gonna be like pulling teeth until he does something about it. Worse yet, John's rolled into the spot Nick had occupied — not exactly sprawled out, or anything, but the guy is irritatingly close to Kim's sleeping back. If he decided to roll one more time, he'd probably end up smacking his face into her shoulder.

Nick considers throwing a fit on principle, but honestly, that's too much work. It's much easier to sulk, glowering at the bed he's definitely not getting back into before getting some logs to stack in the fire. He drops them noisily by John's feet, although he makes every effort not to accidentally pull a Misery on the guy.

The sound of hollow wood clattering on the ground is enough to stir John, who wakes with a sharp inhale, and cause Carmina to groan and turn away from the noise. Kim has probably been awake for a while now, but it won't make a lick of difference until the fire's on.

He turns away to toss the logs semi-haphazardly into the fireplace, then remembers the kindling and turns to get it. John has propped himself on his elbows, but his half-waking confusion causes him to overlook Nick entirely as he stares around the room. Seeing Kim and Carmina asleep next to him is initially met with confusion. He barely seems to recognize the shapes bundled in the blankets, but when he does he recoils in shock. All the nasty comments Nick had thought up take an abrupt backseat as he stops to marvel at the physical repulsion John shows. He's not sure if he should be offended or not. Probably not, but this apocalypse has got Nick wired all wrong.

"She's not gonna bite," Nick says. John whips his attention back to Nick the moment he raises his voice, only for Nick to realize that looming over the guy with a thick block of wood in hand might send the wrong message.

Sure enough, John catches sight of him, jerking back with a startled hiss. " Jesus !"

"Shit, sorry." Nick turns and drops the log, wincing at the noise that he'd moments ago been deliberately making. "Well, judging from that reaction, looks like this isn't the first time a man's caught you in bed with his wife."

John's withering glare is enough to lift Nick's mood right up. He turns his attention back to starting the fire, listening as John slowly shifts his way free of the blankets. Part of him wants to make a few more jokes at John's expense, but that can wait until John's coherent enough to be snide in return.

Nick gets the fire going and turns to follow John, who's made his way into the kitchen to peer out the window. "Completely snowed in," Nick tells him as he gets the instant coffee and the beat-up kettle. "But it looks like the worst of it's over."

"Seems to be," John agrees, adding, "We forgot the shovels in the truck. It's going to be difficult digging them out now."

"Not a lot of other options, unless you wanna stay inside until the big thaw. Don't worry, I'm sure Carmina will be excited to help us dig."

John hums in assent, although his mind seems to be somewhere else. Nick can't help but notice that John's pensive states seem damned near reasonable nowadays. He has plenty to think about, and he seems to be keeping one foot in the here-and-now. He's aware enough of his surroundings that he stops Nick before he can leave John to it.

He tries to stare Nick down, but he can't quite manage it. "Thank you for not..."

John gestures vaguely as the rest of the sentence fails to generate. Nick could probably wait it out, but he's just as embarrassed as John apparently is, and he would rather move past the whole thing.

"Don't worry about it," Nick says. "Just don't get too comfortable cuddling up to me."

Rolling his eyes doesn't hide John's faint smile, but he turns away before Nick can see if it lasts. "That won't be a problem, trust me."

Nick is surprised that he does, even for something as small and inconsequential as a joke. "Grab the mugs when you're done looking for Santa," he says, turning back for the warmth of the fire. A few months ago, Nick might've resented how eroded the line has become between John and his own family, but it's honestly too much work to keep up. At a certain point, they're just going to have to include John in their daily routines — Nick just hadn't expected that point to be made by sharing blankets during a blizzard.

Well, there's one good thing about that, Nick supposes — it means that somewhere up there, the Deputy is watching over them. After all, there's no way in hell random chance has the same shitty sense of humor as Rook had.

#fcnd #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #christmas fic #mercyverse #my fic #i don't even use that tag any more wtf??? whatever #love you guys have a safe holiday <3

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gideongrace · 5 years ago

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Talking amongst ourselves - fanfic writer interviews: @ihni

(Originally, these interviews were done more conversationally, but this interview is a LONG one! So I edited it down for tumblr. You can read the whole unedited, uncut interview over on a03! There are pictures involved. :)

Please say your first name, your age, your pronouns, the fandoms you write for and provide a link to your a03. You can also mention your sexual orientation or other details, if you'd like.

Ihni:

My real name is Moa, but I go by Ihni online. On AO3, I have an account under Ihni (https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ihni) but that's for rhymes (and doodles). I only wrote rhymes/poetry for a long time, and when I started writing fic, I wanted to put that under another pen name. I was NOT comfortable writing stories for YEARS. Now, though, I don't care. So, I write fics under the pen name Thei (https://archiveofourown.org/users/thei/).

It's all Stranger Things, these days. Harringrove (because I love the fandom and I like the two of them interacting) and Billy-centric (because I love his character, SO MUCH).

I am ace and aro, so my fics tend to not contain any sex (I have ALLUDED to it a couple of times, but that's basically as far as I go). I am also just as happy to write fics without any romantic or sexual relationships at all. Billy and Steve can be buddies only, as far as I'm concerned.

How do you feel about being aroace when so much of fanfic is all about romance and sex?

Ihni:

I live by the tried and tested rule of "don't like, don't read".

There is a lot of romance in our fandom, for sure. But it's not like it's lovey-dovey IN OUR FACE romance, you know? 97% of Harringrove fics are two dumb boys who are bad at communication and who can't deal with Feelings. And I fucking live for that! Also, even the lovey-dovey fluffy romance stuff is cute, when it's them. I may not want a relationship for myself, but I don't mind at all if the boys are in one! (If they want it, they deserve it <3)

And as for sex ... well. I can read about sex, if it's well written or if it furthers the plot. If it's too graphic, I tend to scroll past it though, or just skim through it. It doesn't... give me a lot? I guess. Like, it's not like I read "smut" in the tags and go "oooh I have to read this!" - rather the opposite, in fact. I can read it, but it's not something I actively look for, and when I stumble upon it, I don't always read all of it. If I know the writer, I'll probably read through it to honor their work, though.

I just won't ever leave a "omg that was so hot!" comment! XD If someone expects that from me, they'll be disappointed (and I'm constantly terrified of disappointing or offending people for NOT commenting on their smut).

Basically, I am the master of my own fandom experience, and if something makes me uncomfortable I will keep away from it. Simple as that.

More people should live by that rule.

What's your writing process like?

Ihni:

Uuuuuuuugh.

That's an interpretation of my writing process.

No, but.

I usually get SUPER INSPIRED to write a specific scene, or concept... and THAT part goes well, but then I have to build a STORY around it, and that takes SUCH A LONG TIME and SO MUCH EFFORT!

And also, usually, it gets out of hand.

I usually have to force myself to get the words in, honestly. And also, I get real tired of what I'm writing, real fast. So I have to force myself to finish (I have a few WIPs that are more than a year in the making...) before moving on to other things. (And I usually write the other things inbetween, anyway.)

I get easily distracted, when I write. Like, actually sitting down and writing takes an hour and a half. Then I MIGHT write for like twenty minutes, lol.

Cold Turkey Writer was a godsend XD.

If I have internet on while I'm writing, not a lot will be written, let's just ... let's just say that.

How do you edit?

Ihni:

HAHAHAHAHAHAA

Erm.

Well.

Sometimes, I read through it once, and change a few things, and let that be it.

In a couple of cases, for the longer ones, I have actually made an effort to read through it more than once. (The problem being that by then, I'm so sick of it that I will skim through it just to get it over with.)

A couple of times, a friend has read through it for me, and given me pointers. Which is VERY HELPFUL! But they've offered to do it for me, I would never ask it of someone.

And about the editing process ... I check for spelling mistakes, or when something sounds wrong, or looks wrong ... and then I fix it, so it looks and sounds better in my head. I don't know. That's editing, right?

What fanfic authors do you admire?

Ihni:

In the Harringrove fandom, I have to mention LEMONLOVELY, because I'm in love with the way she writes Billy, and the way she's shaping her fics as she goes, and the way her attention to detail brings a whole mood (I am OBSESSED with her "Words Left Unsaid" fic, and am probably that fic's biggest fan).

LYMRICKS, because fucking hell, they sure can write a fic that draws you in. There's something about long sentences in combination with short sentences that really makes them easy to read, and the language is like a punch to the gut, at times.

CALLIEB, because I love their stories and I'm currently following "Second Thoughts" and I love how they write everyone like ... like they're holding their breath, waiting for something.

And I'm not even gonna mention any others by name because I'm terrible with names and I'm bound to forget someone and I'm just, I don't want to do that. Our fandom is full of talented writers, and I just. If I've commented on your fic, I read through all of it and I liked it. If I haven't - well, I HAVE been writing more lately = less time to read, and I have like 100 fic tabs open on all of my devices ... I hope to get there, some time!

In other fandoms, let me mention PeaceHeather (for how they write Loki and that world), aloneintherain (such good whump!), isaDanCurtisproduction (the absolute best Spideypool!) and gaelicspirit (who writes lovely angsty whumpy Musketeers fics). Like. Just to mention 0.01%, or something.

I don't think any of them, particularly, have impacted my style - because I don't HAVE a style - but I soak up every word of every fanfic I ever read, and if one sentence is a particularly pretty string of words, I will copy & paste it into a word document that is now 170 pages long, or screenshot it to keep it forever. ❤️

Words. <3

What's your favorite story of yours?

What's your least favorite story of yours?

What's your favorite line you've ever written?

Ihni:

Like, in what SENSE? Even though I know my writing isn't up to par, they're still my babies. Still my creations. I love them in different ways! Like. I love "Coming Back" because it was the longest I had written back then, and it's probably the one I am most pleased about, writing-wise, and it's also the one I went through and edited the most. So it feels like the one I worked the most on.

I love "Toy Soldiers" because it was a totally self-indulgent piece of writing that I wrote for the joy of it, and because I wanted to read it and no one else was about to write it for me.

I love "About Apologies" because something about it pleases me, it was an experiment that didn't fail, and I like it more and more with time.

I love "Less of a mistake, more of a miscalculation" because I had fun while writing it, and it turned out kind of like I wanted it to, plot-wise.

I love "Actions and reactions", because I had no idea what I was doing back then, but I still did it, and somehow it got long and I still don't know how that happened.

And I realise that this makes me sound a little self-centered, but I worked hard on them. I love them, even if they're my ugly and imperfect babies. And even if I cringe if I re-read certain parts XD

I guess my least favorite story of mine (and I'm guessing we're talking Stranger Things things here?) is "Not unusual" because a) I never re-read it and b) it was the start of something that I have to actually FINISH at some point and ugh, that was not the original plan. If we're talking least favorite stories in all fandoms, then definitely "In which there are mistakes made", which was a Teen Wolf fic, and the reason why I don't do WIPs anymore. The last chapter was written simply to fucking END it, and ugh, I hate it.

The favorite line I've ever written ...? I don't know. Are we talking in fic? Because I write my best stuff in comments, honestly. :p I don't think I have an answer for that one, actually. Sorry :S

What part of writing is easiest for you?

What part of writing is hardest for you?

Ihni:

Easiest? Dialogue. I like dialogue. Like, as a non-English speaker I can at least imagine a plausible exchange of words, and banter, and make it sound somewhat realistic, I imagine.

Hardest? The rest. Like, some people are just fucking WIZARDS with words, can write these long descriptive sentences that perfectly sets the mood for when a character gracefully moves across the room ... whereas I am just, "He stood up and walked over. End of fucking story."

What do you do when you're struggling for inspiration?

Ihni:

Give up?

Or do something else.

Or go and read. (That's basically the same as giving up.)

Or, if I'm still writing, I go to another part of the story and write THAT, and hope that I'll feel like connecting the two pieces, later.

Inspiration is a bitch.

Who introduced you to fandom and when?

Ihni:

Oh god. I am old. I don't remember.

I started writing stories when I was real young, and I was always reading something. I started writing stories with my friends when I was a teenager. Then we discovered the internet (yes, this was around the time when we got internet access in school and at home, told you I was old!) and when doing that, I guess we found more like-minded people.

Fanfics ... weren't an organized thing, back then. But I've been reading them, and been in fandoms, ever since I discovered that there were people online who liked the same things that I liked.

I would say, actively, from maybe around 19-20 years old? Like, that was ACTIVE fandom-ing.

What is your advice to fellow writers?

How often do you jump between fandoms?

How long have you been writing?

Ihni:

As a WRITER, I am not the best person to give advice to writers, I think. I'd rather TAKE advice than give it, at this point.

As a READER, my advice is to WRITE, WRITE, WRITE, because you are doing a good thing and you are creating a version of a world that is yours, versions of characters that you can shape into anything, and SOMEONE out there will love you for it (probably me).

I jump between fandoms ... hmm, as a WRITER? Seldom. Billy's my jam and I'm not moving.

As a READER? All the time. I mean, I'm pretty deep into Harringrove and Billy and Stranger Things, but sometimes I need something light-hearted, and then I go back to some of my basic fandoms, and read something else. I will never run out of things to read.

❤️

And how long have I been writing? FOREVER. I wrote when I was young, and thought I was going to be an author (wrote in Swedish, back then). Then I wrote when I was a teen, for fun. Then I stopped writing. Then I started writing rhymes, in English, because it was a craft I could do and train in, and it was short pieces. And only in recent years (very recent), have I started writing fics. And now, I write long-ass fics in English, so I guess I have at least come a long way!

Why do you write?

Ihni:

...

I just sat and stared at the screen for a good ten seconds.

I'd say that it differs.

Sometimes, I write because I want to READ something and no one has written it (or is going to).

Sometimes, I write because I want a very specific thing or feeling, and it doesn't exist yet.

Sometimes, I write because I am inspired.

Sometimes, I write because I want to.

Sometimes, I write because of a deadline.

Sometimes, I write because there's something in my head that Won't Leave Me The Fuck Alone until I get it out.

Sometimes, I write for fun.

Sometimes, I write because I want to hurt.

Sometimes, I write because I need to.

Sometimes, I write because I want to become better at it; learn; reach towards the writers whose work I love.

And sometimes, I just sit and stare at a document, don't write a single fucking word, and go watch a movie instead.

#talkingamongstourselves #ihni

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fishyspots · 4 years ago

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56-65 😁 the last one being.... which one of your fics are you most proud of/is your favorite and why?

56. What do you like on your toast?

Crunchy peanut butter! Almost exclusively, but I have been known to enjoy an avocado toast with everything bagel seasoning on occasion!

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

I drew a grid in my planner today, but I think the last picture was a doodle of a flower during classes this spring.

58. What would be your dream car?

A Honda Civic (dream big, I know)! I actually used to drive one, but moved and don’t have a car anymore. I think I miss singing along to the radio in the car at least as much as driving.

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

I ALWAYS sing in the shower. I’m a huge fan of musicals, so I definitely act out the songs while I’m singing, too. It’s just as ridiculous as it sounds, and I do it every time!

60. Do you believe in aliens?

I think yes!

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

I always check my sign and my friends’ signs whenever I see ‘the signs as x’ posts, but I never seek out my horoscope.

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

(copying from another ask) T, and I wish I could tell you why! I do some hand lettering, and t’s are really fun to write and embellish, so maybe that’s it!

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Tough choice, but I’d say dinosaurs!

64. What do you think about babies?

I like them! I’ve done a fair amount of childcare, and I like being around babies and kids. I love the ways you can see a kid’s personality start shining through at a surprisingly young age! Sure are exhausting, though. I also love to give them back to their caregivers.

65. which one of your fics are you most proud of/is your favorite and why?

This is SUCH a tough one! I’m most proud of Past the Stars on Silver Wings, and I think it’s my favorite, too. I really tried to focus my writing style and do a lot more showing rather than telling, and I hope that shows through! It feels a lot different than my earlier fics to me, but I love my earlier fics too. I also loved the idea behind Silver Wings. I love post-canon fics, and I liked my contribution to that category. I also love writing about books, and it was so fun to imagine what David and Rollie would read!

#thanks amy!!#i love to talk about fics so your freebie question was so fun #roguebabyinyourstore #answered

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romanticheartbreakprince · 5 years ago

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As we close in on the final episode of Andi Mack, I wanted to share some final thoughts before some of our friends move on to other things.

These past 9 months that I’ve been a part of this fandom have been a wild ride, and one I won't forget ever. From the people who made this all possible, to the crazy things we would come up with, and even Josh's messiness. It all holds a place near and dear to my heart that help make me whole.

But not nearly as close as any of you. There are so many of you who helped shape not only this fandom into one of the best I've been a part of, but you've also helped shape me as a person.

So I'd love to thank some of the people who have impacted me in one way or another.

To @tjkiahgb for always having edits that can make me laugh without fail, for being serious yet completely silly at the same time.

To @thinkinaboutambris for always checking up on me to make sure I am doing well, even when we haven’t talked in awhile.

To @heart-eyes-kippen who really helped inspire me to write my second fic, which sparked some sort of creative bulb in my head allowing me to write more.

And for also being an amazing person to talk to, and share ideas with.

To @bambikippen for always brightening my day. You always take the time to comment on fics, because you know how amazing it feels when people would do that to yours. So you want to make sure everyone else can have that same warm fuzzy feeling, so you spread the love.

To @captainkippen who always works so hard, and spent some sleepless nights writing to provide us with the highest quality stories that i’ve personally read in awhile.

Who also wasn’t afraid to take a step back and spend time for himself when his work started to overburden him.

Mad respect.

To @disneymack who never asked to be the mother of the fandom, but accepted the title willingly. Who always take time to write out thoughtful and wise responses to just about anything because they always have so much to say, and we always love to hear it.

Who took the first step in reaching out to FBE and having everyone follow suit, making it so Andi Mack appeared on a ‘REACT’ episode.

Who spent so much of their own time folding tiny paper cranes, each one filled with so much more love than a human heart can hold, in an attempt to get a season four renewal.

Who never gave up when we learned Andi Mack was being cancelled, and sent the Cranes in anyways as a passion project for how much we love and care for the show. Allowing for the cranes to be hung gracefully from a tree to be seen by everyone at the cast party just a few nights ago.

To @joshua-rush for sticking around even though at one point we had pushed you away. Thank you for hanging out with us, answering our asks and being messy, allowing us to dream and come up different theories, as crazy as they may have been. Not many people in your position would do that with their fans. So thank you again.

To @yo-quiero-more-iero because even though I’ve never said a word to you, I always see you on my dashboard. And a lot of the time I feel like 90% of the things I like and reblog end up coming from you. And not only that, I swear not a day goes by that I don’t quietly sing ”Yo quiero, more iero” to myself even though I have no idea what it means or where it is from.

To @theobligatedklutz for just... being you. Thanks for sticking by my side through all of this, through all my ideas and weirdness, and random thoughts. You loved all of it, and you had an equal amount of stuff to throw at me. To making sure to keep me in check by using your edited images to make sure I was always working, and to making sure that the door is going to hit me on the way out. Thank you for being my best friend.

And last but not least, thank you to you. Yes, you. I see you. I may have never spoken a word to you, but that doesn’t mean I’ve never seen your name, or don’t know who you are, or some of the things you’ve done. Thank you for taking your time to be here with all of us, and contribute through thick and thin. Whether it be from drawing little doodles of TJ with his assumed names, or always organizing amazing events, or creating the most perfect photo edits. Or the art you took the time to draw. Making me laugh by incorrectly quoting the characters, or imagining scenarios that would be funny, but probably never happen. Sending your asks just wishing someone a good day, or to make sure they’re okay. For always posting your honest thoughts or feelings about episodes. All of it. All of you. You’re all amazing.

To those of you who have yet to see the final episode, I really hope you enjoy it.

To those of you who have seen it already, I’m glad we can love it together.

But to all of you, all I have to say;

#Andi Mack #buffy driscoll #Cyrus Goodman #TJ Kippen #Jonah Beck #Tyrus #Ambi #Muffy

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artgurusauce · 5 years ago

Photo

Haven’t posted here in a while since the guidelines changed but I thought “Fuck it why not” since this is so huge.

Yup just go ahead and throw some shitty google translate kanji up there you dumb American hahaha Seriously tho I was just too lazy to do dialogue in english ;w; Anyways, been scrolling through the Haudion tags on here for the past couple of days and while I already have a Haudion fic on my plate and I'd rather not do 3 fics at once, I got inspired after watching "A Silent Voice" by Kyoto Animation on Netflix after being recommended to me by several people (Yes, I am aware of the arson attack btw, that was mostly why I was getting recommended). So I decided to make a special secluded AU thing here and share it with y'all. Not gonna elaborate on this further so please don't ask me. You guys are all free to write something of your own out of this if you want, though. But this little binch is just too tired and too overworked -▽- Now I did a doodle page of Gladion and Hau as Shoko and Iida but after clicking around on here and AO3 some I decided to make a new and more original doodle sheet. Gonna go over each doodle one by one, starting from left and going to right and also starting at the top and going to the bottom. Hopefully it's not too confusing lol. Context: This AU essentially is just "If Glad was a greaser" but also "Hau is blind/deaf". Gladion is a gang member, straight up. Not much to comment on, other than he is in constant conflict with an opposing gang that sometimes trespasses on his turf (The Skull Gang). He is in fact an ex-member of this particular gang, but quit after a huge falling out in which he actually left the leader with a scar on his face. Unfortunately, I didn't get to build much on his background for this since I wanted to keep the focus on the relationship. But you can fill in the blanks. Hau is basically a Helen Keller type deal, and while he can speak it is slow and stunted and sounds very awkward. Usually when talking to someone he doesn't know, he will attempt to sound out words while using his hands to communicate. He has a special sign language he performs by tracing and moving his fingers a certain way along someone's palm. 1.) Greaser Glad Reread an AO3 fic that was Haudion drabbles. I came across a chapter titled "Seven Kisses" and a particular scene was rather interesting. After reading the comments, I found someone who I was actually familiar with and has sent me fan art before talking in-depth about a possible Haudion Greaser AU and I thought it was a pretty cool idea (Obligatory shout out to @the-kawaiifan you should totally check out her page). So this first doodle is just concept art basically. I looked up Greaser fashion and I do in fact have my own Southside Serpent leather jacket so it was pretty easy for me to draw up lol. 2-3.) First Meeting I would imagine they first meet when Hau is being mugged on Gladion's turf by Skull Gang grunts. Of course, Gladion is mostly just beating their asses for trespassing on his turf, and he drives them away pretty quickly. At first he mistakes Hau for a girl as he is rather small and feminine looking with long hair. At first he warns "her" to leave but he quickly notices it seems that "she" can't hear him. Hau eventually manages to communicate with Gladion and figure out what happened to him and he speaks aloud while tracing on his hand to thank him for his help. Gladion is off-put by this and quickly realizes Hau is actually a boy and while he feels embarrassed and shameful he shakes it off. (Dialogue in number 3 translates to "Thank You") 4.) Chibi Smoking Sucks Just a cute doodle of the boys. Hau don't like the smell of smoke. 5.) You're Beautiful Now I've been taught a lot about how blind and deaf people work and the thing I hear most often is that their other senses are extremely heightened as a result of their other senses being cut off. Basically, since less attention is put on those senses, way more attention is put on others. And in Hau's case, I'm sure that's probably double the case. Just a generic scene of one of the first times Gladion realizes he's totally in love with this cute clueless boy. He's beaten up (Fill in your own context by whom and why, personally I'd insert a Skull Gang beat down here lol) pretty badly and Hau touches his face and basically examines him and he just says out loud that he thinks Gladion is beautiful. This pretty much has greaser boy totally head over heels for him buuut he hides these feelings cause he feels like he'd just be taking advantage of Hau. (Dialogue in this one translates to "You are beautiful") 6.) Obligatory Rain Snuggle Poor poor Hau is not very popular with other kids in his neighborhood. On a particular day going on his way to visit his best friend Gladion he's cornered and beaten up by a bunch of jerkwads in his class. They steal his jacket when they see it's about to rain and leave him there. He keeps on his way to visit his friend even in the pouring rain and starts to catch a cold. By the time Glad finds him he's pretty much blubbering incomprehensibly aside from Gladion's name and sobbing profusely. Gladion offers him his jacket and lets Hau trace on his hand to tell him what happened. He just hugs Hau and takes him inside somewhere to get him warm. Gee, what a nice gangster. Is his heart warming up lately? 7.) Confession Time Obligatory confession scene. This is pretty basic. After learning from Hau how to speak in his special signing language and eventually getting over that god darn insecurity of his he confessed to Hau by tracing on his hand. Hau is shocked initially and Gladion immediately regrets it. He decides it'd be best if he just went away. He tries to leave and Hau trips trying to follow him and begging him to come back and Hau confesses he's super in love with this dumb greaser boy. They kiss and hug and all that good stuff. Happily ever after, yay~ Or is it...? (⚆_⚆) 8.) Blind/Deaf Hau I tried looking around at 1950s-1960s wear that might look cute on him, but I ended up half assing on the clothing for this one. Hope it doesn't look too out of place lol. I imagine since he's blind wearing his long ass hair up is probably unnecessary. Not much to comment on here, tbh. Ain't he cute? .w.

I haven’t slept since yesterday when I started editing this bout to pass out now bye

#haudion #cuteboneshipping #fanart #alternate universe #doodledump

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tea-and-toblerones · 5 years ago

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Unison Chapter 13 - Better Love

Better Love- Steel Train

Hey, remember once upon a time when I used to write fan fics? Well, I finally finished the chapter.

Here’s Chapter 11 and Chapter 12 for a refresher and if your brand spankin new, or just want to reread the whole damn thing, here’s the master list.

Enjoy guys...sorry it took a forever and a year...

You would think sleep would overtake me quick and easy, with everything that had gone down. Yet here I laid, now wide awake, my mind racing. The fallout of tonight's events playing like a skipping disc, just bursts of memories. Drinking and laughing, dancing on the floor. The guys hands on my waist...wandering down...wandering down. I flung the heavy comforter off me, a small part of me wondering if it was the reason I was covered in sweat. Ed had grumbled a little as I eased out of bed. His face buried deeper in his pillow. His pillow. The thought had pulled me to a stop. My hand hovering over my doorknob, trying to think back to when I started lumping our stuff together. When I had started splitting stuff up into my stuff and his stuff. Which, seems innocent enough, but in this moment it seemed like a huge deal.

I shook my head. I'm making too much out of it. I pushed the door open, the little whiny creak caused him to flop over. I used to hate that creak. When Nate or someone crashed on my couch, they'd wake me up everytime they would come in to use the bathroom. I was so adamant about the door remaining open. Until Ben. A lot of things had changed after that. I can almost draw a line in my life. BB and AB. Before Ben and After Ben. Ben....fucking Ben....

I scooped up the discarded trash and dirty dishes, depositing them in their proper receptacles. I pulled down a pot and began to make tea. Something normal after such a hectic night. Choosing a night time blend over my normal lemon and ginger. I hovered over the steam, breathing in the sweet, flowery scent. I scooped up the cup, and headed out on the fire escape. I let my legs dangle off the edge as I stared off, letting my thoughts run rampant.

Tonight was a complete and utter shit show. I could shame starting to creep in as the shots wore off. I buried my hands in my face, like that would just wipe it away. It's true, I had been spending most of the night avoiding him. Hearing that he was an abusive stalker was quite a shock. Why hadn't he told me? That's important information to know going into a relationship. I pushed a sigh through my lips. I guess I'm just as guilty about withholding information from him as well. I felt the urge to go in, snag my shoes and go for a walk to clear my head. Deciding against it, I laid back with a huff, staring up at the sky trying to spot what few stars you could see in the city. The little voice in the back of my mind was telling me I jumped in too fast and I wasn't ready for all this yet.

I hadn't realised I fell asleep until I heard Ed's frantic voice above me. I slowly blinked my eyes open, his worried face coming into view. The sky was streaked gold and pink, casting him in an ethereal glow. I groaned as I sat up, taking his hand to help me up. Every muscle felt stiff as I moved. Ed sat down beside me, his arm coming around my waist. His free hand stroking my hair. I expected him to bombard me with questions, yet he remained silent. Finally I broke the silence.

"I'm sorry about last night. I should have just asked you about the allegations instead of distancing myself from you and seeing how you reacted. It was childish and if I hadn't been keeping my distance, that guy wouldn't have been able to do what he did."

His concerned expression morphed into one on anger. His brow had pulled down, his hand had froze in place.

"It doesn't matter what was going on, he never should have done it period. It's not your fault. It's his," He seemed to deflate a little bit, "I'm also sorry. I acted like a child too. I should have told you about those allegations. I just...it wasn't true and I didn't want you thinking I was something I wasn't."

"Hiding it makes it seem like there's more to it than that...but I can't be too mad. I haven't shared everything with you."

"Well, let's fix that. I'll tell you everything. Everything about Allison, the fallout and the reason I'm on this break. I owe you that," He stopped, "No, I owe you more, but that's a start."

"Well, let's make some breakfast and get comfy. We don't need to add uncomfortable due to hunger."

We pitched ideas for a fabulous breakfast spread, both drooling over potential delicacies we could be eating. After 15 minutes of saying you know what sounds good...this...we settled for the high quality, four star meal of toaster strudels, because let's face it. We wanted the food, but neither one of us had the energy to cook said spread. So we settled into the couch, still giggling over the attempt at stupid doodles that inevitably turned into a giant white puddle.

"Alright, I think I've procrastinated enough now..." He stated as he placed the plate down on the coffee table, "So I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you know next to nothing about me and Allison?"

"Erm...not next to nothing." I wiped the remaining frosting off my face, "I know nothing about Allison and you."

"Okay, then I'll just start from the beginning. Looking back I can see how stupid I was. How young and naive..." He shook his head, "I thought she was perfect, made specifically for me. I couldn't believe my luck. Well...she ended up being too good to be true."

"I know that feeling..." I muttered, then apologised about cutting him off. He waved his hand, taking a sip of water.

"I met her at the market. She took the last bag of crisps and we ended up chatting a bit before going our separate ways. Ended up running into her a couple days later at my favorite take away place. Made a joke about it being fate and traded numbers so we could plan our next meeting. Took her to an upscale joint and had a typical first date, talked about typical first date things, but she did seem more interested in my touring and career than my personal life. I didn't think much of it. Most people have questions and I don't mind telling some of my more wilder stories, which she really seemed to enjoy."

I listened to him, focusing on the way his lips moved, the way his eyes looked. I thought back, about how I had asked about the places he had visited. Places I had dreamt about visiting. He had told me about some of the parties he had went to, but those hadn't really interested me. I never really saw the appeal of giant parties.

"I just brushed it off as her just living vicariously through me. A lot of people like hearing those types of stories. She'd offhandedly mention how cool it would be to go to one and so, one night I decided to surprise her invited her along. I had expected her to be thrilled, it was all she talked about. Almost to the point of accusing me of being embarrassed of her. Instead, she got angry, saying I had to give her more than a day's notice because she had nothing nice enough to wear. No biggie I thought, so I took her shopping. Let her pick out some clothes, we had plenty of time before we had to be there. We went from store to store, and not to sound like the typical male but, I was getting both bored and frustrated. Every time I'd suggest something she'd get upset and accuse me of rushing her or wanting her to look bad. Finally, she had picked something out that was pretty pricey but at that point I didn't care, I was just ready to leave."

I watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed. I could tell he was trying to get his story in order by the expression on his face. I sat in silence, my hand resting on his knee, in what I hoped he saw as comforting. He had just started but I could already tell she was no good. I know you're not supposed to make snap judgements of people but she really was coming off as a spoiled princess. It had me wondering what Ed had seen in her. He didn't strike me as the shallow type so it had to be more than a pretty face.

"When we finally made it to the party, after she had to go home and put on what she called evening makeup." He gave me a little side eye, the corner of his mouth curling up, "I had asked her what was wrong with the makeup she was wearing because she looked gorgeous." He made a face, "Because Ed," His voice high and mimicky, "This is for day, I need a bolder look for night." He did an imaginary hair flip with a scoff. I couldn't help but chuckle. "Seriously though, I'm glad you're lower maintenance than that. Not that you're a slob, but you have more of an effortless beauty, y'know."

"Hey Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"I get what you're saying, you can stop."

He chuckled, "Right, well, We get there finally and we go our separate ways. Which I was cool with. I don't like feeling like a chaperone. So, the night goes on, a lot of drinks have been poured, a lot of joints passed and she's nowhere to be found. After searching the entire house, I find her out by the pool, in just her skivvies, waving around a bottle of booze. I had called for a ride back home and gather up all her shit and get her in the car, all while she's whinging about wanting to stay and party more. She eventually just passes out, I let her sleep it off on my couch and we continue like nothing's happened. This goes on for a couple months. Rehearsals and sound checks during the day, shows in the evening, partying at night."

"The non stop touring was starting to catch up with me. I was getting tired, I was missing home, missing my family and friends. I still had a whole leg of the tour left and I didn't know how, or even if, I was going to make it through." He paused and a somber look passed over his face, "I should have ended it with her when she first offered me molly, but I was lonely and she seemed to be the one that understood me. 'It'll help you get through, baby. You won't feel as worn down. It'll be fun.' Honestly, it didn't take a lot of persuading on her part." He let out a wry chuckle, "She knew I had an addictive personality. She did her research and she did it well. She knew I'd get hooked easy. She knew I'd get hooked on the feeling, the rush, but slowing it stopped working and I would just be numb. So she switched to coke. Line after line. It was all I could think about for months. She made it where I relied on her. Made it where I needed her."

"Stu tried to intervene, but I blew him off. I blew a lot of people off because of her. I almost lost everything. I gave her whatever she wanted since she supplied what I mistaken as happiness. I bought her so much stuff. A house, car, clothes, shoes, purses. I was stupid. So fucking stupid."

I squeezed his knee, his hand coming over mine. "I've been through dark times before. Couch hopping, sleeping on bus benches. When I first moved to America, but I made it through. This was worse. I was always angry, I lashed out at everyone. Me and her always seemed to argue and after one huge fight, I told her to go back home to give each other space. I stopped partying, finally came to my senses and officially ended things with her. The withdrawals were awful. The body aches, the trembles, the night sweats. The physical stuff lasted a couple weeks, but the mental stuff..." He trailed off, " I wanted it for months. I wish I could say I kicked it completely but I switched to pain pills, I convinced myself that was better since my whole body hurt."

"Then the public backlash began. I had managed to stay under the radar the entire time but when she went back home, she began telling the press that I was stalking her. That I was sending her unwanted gifts to try sway her. That when she found out I was an addict I tried to buy her silence but giving a house and car, but she 'Couldn't be bought' and that caused me to become violent. She was raking in even more cash by trashing my name. The tabloids loved it. I went from Music Superstar, to deranged druggie singer. My tour was over and I honestly thought it was the end of the road for good. Of course, like all scandals, it blew over and it was on to the next story."

"I wish I could blame it all on her but it was my choice and I have to live with it. I fell for her act. She pegged me right off the bat and it was my choice to stick with her. She was after me for my money and her fifteen minutes. She broke me. She broke my trust and not to sound dramatic, but she broke my soul."

I just sat in silence, trying to process everything. I didn't know what to say, it was just... a lot. I could just stare at him, his head bowed a little, his gaze directed at the floor. My heart hurt for him. I wrap my arm around his shoulders and pull him toward me. I began stroking his hair and he collapsed into me.

"When's the last time you..." I trailed off timidly , not entirely sure I wanted to know the answer.

"I had some pills the day we fought and I thought it was over," he said quietly. The remorse dripping from his voice.

"Ah..." I had a feeling but I still felt my heart sink down into my stomach.

"I'm sorry...it seems like I just keep hurting you..." His voice cracked. I could tell he was close to tears.

"I stand by what I said. I'll stay as long as you keep working on the underlying issues, but I won't put up with you popping pills."

"I'm done with that part of my life. I choose you. I want you in my life. You make it so much better and I don't want to do anything that could jeopardize that."

He pushed himself up and looked at me for the first time since he started talking. I half expected his eyes to be red and puffy because it had sounded like he had been crying. Yet, they were the brightest blue I had yet to see, with a gleam behind them that I hadn't seen. He pressed his lips against my temple.

"I just don't want you thinking I'm a magic cure, okay?"

"Of course you're not. I know it's going to be a lot of work. All relationships are, but you're worth the work Adi. I know there's gonna be hard times, but it's safe to say that the honeymoon phase is over. I'm willing to do the work and effort, the question is, are you?"

I am? He just dropped a lot of information on me that I still haven't processed. Just how bad was his usauge? Do I really want to know? I mean, that was the past right and we don't live in the past. I kinda feel like that's naive thinking. Of course it impacts the present and future. I did say I would stand by him but how far am I willing to go? Where's the line?

"Well...I do have concerns...I don't want to be responsible for your relapse if something would happen between us. That's a lot of pressure."

"It would be my choice if that was to happen. I know saying don't worry about it, isn't going to help. What I can say is, I'm getting to the root of the problem. I'm taking the steps help myself. I know things have went kinda fast and everything and that this break isn't going to last forever...but I just want that one special person that I can spend my life with. That enhances it. That makes my life better."

I just stare at him, causing his expression to turn sheepish.

"And you think that's me?" I barely whisper

"I think it could be you, yes."

"Wow..." I breathe.

"Sorry, too much?"

"Um...I guess I hadn't realised how much of a romantic you are and how much you thought about the future." I began picking at my nails, an old habit I had never been able to shake.

"You don't?"

"I think about the future, but...I guess I've been career oriented too long...I just been focused on that for so long..." The whole 'lumping our stuff together thoughts' crossed my mind again, "But...I could see us being together for a while..."

His face split into a grin, "We just had the where do you think we are in this relationship talk."

I nodded, "Yep, we did."

Ed blew a burst of air out of his lips, "Well, enough for all this seriousness. Let's go and do something fun."

I arch my eyebrow "You got something in mind?"

He smirked, holding out his hand, "Of course I got something in mind."

"Well, then after you." I said, taking his hand. A smile spreading across my face, pushing my fears to the back of my mind.

I could see a future with us, but will that last when he goes back on the road? How much is going to change then?

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