#I’m thinking that Holly is maybe six or seven?

[silver-rings-and-rabbits]

Open Heart - Chapter 1

The Doctor Is In

Small, private room in modern house. Ground floor, between the living room, kitchen, and right in the middle of everything. At a bargain of $100 p/w, this room is perfect for the working modern millennial!

Matthew was never taking anything offered to him on social media again. The ‘small, private room’ was a cupboard under the stairs. He turned to the landlord, a forty year old man with slick brown hair, dressed in a sharp suit complete with a gold wrist watch.

“Sorry but….is this a joke?”

“Excuse me?” The landlord – his name on social media was Tim Silverstone – appeared almost offended. Matthew attempted a friendlier attitude.

“Tim, I’m six foot one, I won’t be able to fit in this cupboard. You advertised a room…”

“A small, private room and you can’t get much smaller or more private than this!” Tim was positively aghast. “Look, Matt…”

“Matthew.”

“You’re not from around here, so let me explain. Boston is expensive. Some places charge up to $3,000 for one room. This is a deal! A small space of your own in a decent house in the city centre for a tiny sixty bucks per week! People will be desperate for a place like this.”

“I think this is false advertising, Tim.”

Tim glared at him coldly. “Maybe do a bit more research if it means that much to you, but none of the pictures I posted were edited. And it’s Mr Silverstone to you. I’m you landlord, not your friend.”

Matthew’s jaw dropped. Tim (Matthew didn’t feel like calling him Mr anything when he insisted on shortening Matthew’s name) was scrolling on his phone, looking for Matthew’s application. When he saw it, he spluttered.

“I don’t even understand why you’re making such a big deal! You’re working at the hospital, you won’t even be in the room most of the time.” He tucked the phone into his inside pocket and made a big show of checking his gold watch before giving Matthew another contemptuous look. “You ought to be a little more grateful. Since my medical bills will be paying your salary and all…”

He tossed Matthew a keyring – just one front door key, there was no lock for the cupboard – and strode away. Matthew turned back to the cupboard, fuming. He had been warned about silly comments about tax dollars and bills paying his salary, but how on earth could you advertise a cupboard as a room and then get offended when you were called out on it?

He growled under his breath. He had just spent seven hours on a plane from Colorado to Boston, heaving his suitcase around, contending with Boston traffic, nervous for his new job, leaving behind everything he had ever known, and now he was faced with…this. Matthew brought up the ad on his phone and examined the pictures: the front of the house (a gorgeous classic townhouse), the kitchen and living area, the hallway, a photo of each bedroom, and a few artsy shots of the pillows against a bedframe. On closer inspection, this was a picture frame cleverly placed over the pillow. Matthew had assumed the ad was referring to the smallest bedroom. He hadn’t had the time or money to travel to Boston to check the room out before taking it.

A text came in from his mother:

-Holly Valentine: Have you arrived yet?

-Matthew Valentine: Yes, all good. Just reached the house

-HV: How’s the room?

-MV: Smaller than expected

-HV: Oh dear. Send me a pic?

-MV: When I’ve unpacked! Love you xx

Matthew put his phone into his back pocket. Holly had been through a lot; Matthew’s sister died and then his father left them both. Matthew had been apprehensive about moving to Boston but she was adamant he follow his medical dreams to the fullest. Still, he drew the line at revealing the truth about his less-than-ideal living situation. Besides, what he needed right now was a shower and a chance to unwind.

The bathroom was at least clean and provided hot water, though Matthew caught a strong smell of weed from one of the bedrooms and had to take a stroll around the block to clear his head. The evening air helped and Matthew felt a little better when he got back to his cupboard.

He had to open his suitcase in the hallway to prepare his clothes for the next day – just jeans and a t shirt, he would change into scrubs anyway. He kept his toiletries and valuables in his backpack and decided they would stay in there. He suddenly didn’t trust a cupboard that couldn’t be locked from the outside.

Unfortunately, sleep proved impossible. Even if he weren’t about to start a new job, even if he could get comfortable, someone seemed to run up or down the stairs every hour and it shook the entire space. The door rattled in its frame. At one point, a couple upstairs started screaming at each other and then one of them stormed out, slamming the front door which caused the sound to echo around him. Matthew suddenly thought about his stuffed pig, the comfort toy he had had when he was little. When his sister was sick and his parents would argue, he would hide under the covers and hold the pig over his face. He hadn’t brought the pig to Boston; it was on his mother’s dresser next to his sister’s old monkey.

A light flicked on under the door as the pot heads stumbled down the stairs, laughing loudly. Matthew checked the time and cursed: 4am. Four hours until his official start at Edenbrook. It all came down to this.

Years of studying, research, focusing on nothing else except his future career in medicine. Driven by a fascination of how the body worked, combined with knowing how much even the healthy family members could suffer, and he was determined to help every single person who was in his power to help. And then there were the illnesses without cure…

The braying laughter of the potheads made Matthew jump. Realising that sleep would be impossible, he reached into his bag and took out Diagnostic Principles by Dr Ethan Ramsey. Out of all his medical textbooks it was the most battered, with plenty of notes scrawled inside. He had picked it up during his last year of high school and was instantly hooked, amazed by the level of research and practises and thoroughly impressed by the clear dedication to his science. He was also impressed by Dr Ramsey’s admiration for his mentor, Dr Naveen Banerji, who had been referred to several times in the text as well as being the first person in the list of acknowledgements.

After reading the book cover-to-cover, it was a no-brainer. Matthew would apply to Edenbrook and learn where Ramsey had started and now taught. And here he was, about to start the whole thing.

Excitement stirred in his chest as he showered and dressed. He planned to relax in the living room but stopped short when he realised the couches had been removed and replaced with wooden dining chairs, the kind for sitting at a dining table, not relaxing. Not wanting to join the potheads in the kitchen, Matthew grabbed his backpack and stepped out into the city.

He took the time to admire the sun rising above the skyscrapers. When he was a child they had lived in a high rise apartment and he loved looking out over the city on a clear day. After the divorce, he and Holly had moved to Carbondale where they lived with her brother before a small house had been built for them. Matthew had forgotten the noise of the city. It was a little overwhelming and he shrunk into his hoodie.

He stopped in at the first open coffee shop he could find, which was mostly empty apart from a few other early risers. He sat at the window bar as a waitress placed his coffee in front of him with a tired smile. He glanced over when a group of doctors came in, wearing orange scrubs but he didn’t recognise the hospital logo on their coats. He turned away again as the doctors collected their orders and walked out without a glance in his direction. They probably just wanted to sleep, probably in big, comfy beds in proper bedrooms. Matthew suddenly remembered what the landlord had said about spending most of his time in the hospital and wondered if he might be able to stay overnight in an on-call room, just until he could find a proper place to live.

It took him a while to find the hospital from where he was. Daylight had risen as he crossed the parking lot toward the entrance. He was nervous but also had a spring in his step, which was an odd combination but it didn’t matter as long as he appeared put-together. Upon entering the pristine atrium, Matthew looked around wondering where the interns were supposed to meet…

“Hello there! You look lost!”

Matthew turned to see a small woman with a round face and a lot of very curly hair smiling brightly at him.

“Let me guess, first day of medical residency?”

“That’s right. Matthew Valentine.”

“Just step over here and we’ll prepare your ID badge.”

The woman snapped a few pictures of Matthew – he wished he had thought to bring his hairbrush to the hospital but his hair was naturally scruffy it wouldn’t have made a difference – before feeding it through a computer and printing off an ID badge. He clipped it to his collar and she promised him he looked good and pointed him down the hall with another big smile. Her positivity gave Matthew a confidence boost; at least this place had at least one friendly doctor.

As he headed in the direction she had pointed, there was a sudden choking and a muffled thump as a woman in the waiting room fell out of her seat and writhed on the floor, gasping for air. Surrounding patients jumped up, some asking what was wrong, as panic started to rise around the room.

“Doctor!”

Matthew jumped when a young Asian man, around his age and dressed in purple scrubs, tapped him on the shoulder. “We need your help.”

“Oh…right…”

Matthew gulped as he hastened to the woman’s side where a tall, dark-haired attending was already at the scene. He glanced at Matthew long enough to notice his medical ID, which Matthew now wished he had stowed in his pocket.

“Rookie, check her blood pressure. What had she come in for?”

“I don’t know, she had just come in.” That was the young Asian man.

“Well if we don’t figure it out fast she’s going to die here.”

Matthew’s hands started to shake.

“Her blood pressure’s plummeting,” he reported. “She’s hypotensive. We’ve got to get fluids in her…Doctor, this bruise!” Matthew pointed out the bruise that was now rapidly forming on the woman’s elbow. “It wasn’t here a moment ago.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. She’s a hemophiliac.”

“Good catch.” The doctor nodded smoothly. “Take a listen to her lungs.”

Matthew listened to her struggling right lung. He could hear nothing on the left side.

“She’s going to suffocate!” Panic rose in his chest.

“Nurse, we’ve got a code blue.” The attending stayed calm and started pumping air into the woman’s lungs. He looked at Matthew again.

“You know what it is, Rookie. Consider the clues.”

Through its panicked haze, Matthew’s mind turned. Hemophilia…low blood oxygen…no lung expansion on one side…

“It’s a hemothorax!”

“Precisely. A ruptured blood vessel is filling her pleural cavity…”

“Blocking her lungs from expanding! But we can’t repair it here…”

“Nurse! I need an emergency thoracotomy!”

The young man thrust a chest tube and scalpel into Matthew’s still shaking hands.

“You need to do it now or this woman’s life is on you!” The attending snapped as he exposed the patient’s rib cage. Matthew gulped, readying the scalpel. If only his hand would stop shaking…

“Hey.” He looked up at the attending who looked back at him with calm determination. “You can do this.”

Matthew forced himself to take a breath, focusing on his hand and the attendings voice. The shaking stopped. He cut through the patient’s skin steadily and the attending nodded in approval as he helped Matthew feed the tube through the incision. After a second, the woman took a big gasp of air. Matthew’s knees went weak with relief. Onlookers were applauding. The attending confirmed she was going to make it as another two nurses loaded the woman on to a gurney and wheeled her down the hall.

“Doctor,” Matthew said, breathless with adrenaline. “That was absolutely incredible.”

“You’re right. It’s incredible that you didn’t get her killed.”

Matthew blinked. All traces of the calm teaching mode had gone as the attending glared at him.

“You’re examination was slow and superficial, your scalpel technique amateur at best…”

“I’m sorry, Doctor, it’s my first day…”

“I’m sure that excuse would have been very comforting for her family…” he narrowed his eyes as he read Matthew’s name. “Dr Valentine.”

Matthew was at a loss for words as the attending stalked away. Five minutes on the job, before he’d even officially started, and he apparently was a terrible doctor. But he wouldn’t be for much longer, right?

“Hey, you’ll want to change into scrubs before orientation. I’ll show you the locker room.”

The male nurse led Matthew in the opposite direction from the attending with a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t worry about Dr Ramsey. He’s like that with all interns.”

Matthew stopped in his tracks.

“Dr Ramsey. As in…Dr Ethan Ramsey?!”

“Yeah. I take it you’re a fan?”

“I am! I’ve read all his research and it’s basically why I chose Edenbrook! Looks like I’ve screwed all that up now,” he groaned, wishing the ground would swallow him.

“There’s no way you’ve screwed everything up,” the nurse grinned. “Look, I’ve worked with him for a while and believe me, he was impressed just now. He just very much believes in tearing down to build back up.”

Matthew wasn’t sure it was effective.

“Look on the bright side, you have plenty more chances to impress him.”

The nurse at least seemed nice. As they chatted, Matthew learned his name was Danny, he was twenty seven, and had just started his fourth year working for Edenbrook. His family had moved from Manhattan to Boston when he was ten.

“Anyway, here’s the locker room. You can get changed, charge your phone, there’s washroom facilities, oh, and you can eat and drink in there, provided you clean up after yourself.”

“Thanks Danny. Hope to see you later.”

“Sure thing,” Danny smiled. “Good luck!”

Danny walked away as Matthew entered the locker room, only to come face-to-face with a gorgeous woman in her underwear.

“Holy crap, I’m so sorry!” Matthew spluttered, turning away and straight into a gorgeous man in his underwear.

“How did you make it through med school without ever seeing a bra?”

“Go easy on him, Jackie, it’s the first day for all of us.” The man patted Matthew’s back with an easy grin. “You’ve gone quiet. Hope Jackie isn’t scaring you off already.”

Matthew smiled back. There were worse ways to start a shift than meeting with two hot people at once.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t scare easily.”

“Quiet but fierce. I respect that!” The man held out a hand. “Bryce Lahela, AKA your new favourite surgical intern. Pleasure’s all mine.” He winked.

“Matthew Valentine, internal medicine.”

“Looks like you’re with me then.” Jackie examined his blood-spattered scrubs. “Gonna change before orientation or what? And Bryce, how about you put clothes on for a change?”

“Hey, if you’ve got it, flaunt it.”

“And you don’t have it, so why bother?”

Matthew laughed as he changed into fresh scrubs. The shock of the thoracotomy was starting to wear off. The sweet woman who had welcomed him in, Danny’s friendliness, Bryce and Jackie’s easy chatter…maybe things would be ok here after all. It was a shame about Dr Ramsey, but then people did say never meet your heroes…

The three of them joined up to the group of interns listening to a stunning statuesque woman.

“Who’s that?” Matthew whispered.

“Did you learn medicine in the woods or something?” Jackie gasped.

“That’s Harper Emery, the hospital’s new chief. She’s so badass, world famous head of neurosurgery before she got promoted.” Bryce was looking positively star-struck. “Guess she’s just a scalpel jockey too, huh, Jackie?”

“She’s the exception that proves the rule,” Jackie said, loftily.

“More will be demanded of you than you’ve ever experienced,” Chief Emery was saying. “Most of you will buckle under pressure. Some of you will quit. But some of you will thrive.”

“Damn,” Matthew muttered. “Is it just me or is she terrifying?”

“I know,” Bryce was drinking in Chief Emery’s every word. “It’s kind of hot.”

“As if you’d have a chance, scalpel jockey.”

“Please. I’m everybody’s flavour.”

It was really quite ridiculous how many beautiful people he had run into already. Matthew felt out of his league. At least he could focus on his career; he wasn’t here for a partner.

Chief Emery finished her speech with a reminder of their sacred duty to every man, woman and child who entered the hospital, and the interns broke into applause, meeting her smile with excited smiles of their own. All except for one intern at the back. She was scowling, the only intern not clapping.

“Try not to miss me too much!” Bryce winked as he split off with the surgical interns. Matthew and Jackie turned to the notice board for their assignments. Matthew yawned. Jackie gaped at him.

“You’re tired already? Sixty seconds into a fourteen hour shift?”

“I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. The ‘room’ I rented when I moved to Boston turned out to be a closet under a very busy staircase. And don’t get me started on the landlord…”

Matthew stifled another yawn as Jackie scanned the list for her name and partner.

“Dr Greene?”

“That’s me!” A Black man in a wheelchair rolled forward and held out a hand for Jackie to shake as Matthew read the list.

“Dr…Emery? Huh?”

“As in Chief of Medicine Harper Emery?” A small man with tightly curled blond hair was looking at Matthew in awe.

“No,” said a cold voice that made the curly haired intern jump. “As in medical intern Aurora Emery.”

“Are you…related to Harper Emery?” The curly haired intern asked nervously.

Aurora squared her shoulders.

“She’s my aunt.”

That caught the attention of several interns, including Jackie and Dr Greene, who had been about to head down the hallway. Muttering ran round the group, some of it admirable, some of it suspicious.

“Now we have to compete with a pedigree.” That was Jackie, who didn’t even bother to keep her voice down. Aurora gave her an icy glare but Jackie merely lifted her chin, challenging.

“Do you think…”

“Yes, I could get you a meeting with her, but I won’t,” Aurora snapped, addressing the group as whole. “Nor will I tell her how you think she’s the ‘greatest surgeon of her generation’ either.”

“She actually is though,” Dr Greene said, earning himself a withering look.

“Sounds difficult,” Matthew said…and for the tiniest second, surprise flitted across Aurora’s face before she hardened again.

“Did anyone ask what you thought?! Let’s just check on the patient, if you’re done with the pleasantries.”

Aurora marched down the hall and Matthew hastened to keep up, mouthing ‘pleasantries?’ at Jackie as he passed.

Matthew kept pace with Aurora, even though she seemed determined to walk ahead of him. He tried not to look too baffled at the seemingly endless corridors and patient rooms. Aurora had probably already received a private tour. Did everyone else know more than Matthew did already?

“So, shall we talk about how we’re going to approach the case?”

“No need,” Aurora kept her head up, not looking at him.

“Aurora, all I care about is the patient. You don’t have to like me, we certainly don’t have to be friends, but I’m going to do everything I can to make my patient better.”

“Suits me just fine.” Aurora sped up.

Matthew rolled his eyes as he caught up with her, but they had already reached room 532. Aurora knocked once and opened the door, revealing a young woman, not much younger than Matthew, with long fair hair, sitting up in bed. She seemed nervous but gave a brave smile.

“Are you my doctors?”

“We are.” Aurora had done a 180, giving the woman a warm smile and speaking kindly. Matthew tried not to look too surprised, checking the woman’s chest as Aurora introduced the two of them.

The patient’s name was Annie Wood, twenty four years old, and had been admitted for headaches, nausea and vertigo.

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” Matthew asked as Aurora prepared a blood pressure sleeve. “Being in hospital can be less scary with someone by your side.”

“No. I just moved here for grad school but my family’s on the other side of the country, and…well, I don’t really know anyone just yet.” Annie’s face fell.

“I know how you feel, I just moved here too,” Matthew said sympathetically. “Maybe we can look out for each other in the meantime.”

“Sure,” Annie smiled as Aurora measured Annie’s heart rate. Annie kept scratching a marbled patch of skin.

“Do you often suffer from itchy skin?” Matthew asked as he took a closer look.

“Not really, just the past few days.”

“And the headaches and vertigo?”

“Never had those before. Oh, and my palms keep cramping up. It really sucks, I had to cut my vacation to Indonesia short because of all this.”

“You did the right thing. Vertigo can be dangerous, especially in an unfamiliar place,” Aurora reassured her. Indonesia would still be there when Annie recovered.

“How long will I have to stay here?” Annie asked, looking unhappy.

“We’ll do our best to make it quick. For now, just relax.”

Annie nodded. She did seem reassured by Matthew’s confidence.

“Sorry. I just panic really easily when I’m stressed out.”

“Nothing to apologise for and there’s no reason to worry. Your health and well-being are our first priority.” The reassuring tone came easily to Matthew. Patient care went well beyond the physical ailments. Meanwhile, Annie readjusted her position in bed, exposing her ankle for a second.

“How did you cut your ankle?” Matthew asked. The jagged gash looked deep but clean and hadn’t required stitches.

“Oh, I just cut it on some coral when I was scuba diving.”

“You’re a scuba diver? That’s cool!”

Annie smiled but shook her head. “I’m still learning. I went for my licence on my trip.”

Matthew nodded as Aurora examined the cut.

“One last question,” Matthew said. “Any allergies to medication?”

“None that I know of. Thanks Dr Emery, Dr Valentine.”

They left Annie to get some rest. Matthew broke into a smile when they closed the door.

“Dr Valentine…I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of hearing that.”

Away from the patient, Aurora’s kindness had frozen back to her no-nonsense attitude.

“I’m already tired of hearing it. Anyway, Annie’s vitals were good but we should run a full work-up.”

“Let’s order a screen too, she might have picked up a virus or bacteria on her trip.”

“Not the worst idea…”

Matthew couldn’t help wondering if he’d imagined Aurora’s admittance when an announcement came over the tannoy.

“Paging Dr Aurora Emery to Chief Emery’s office…”

“And I guess that means you’re doing it.”

“Hey!”

But it was too late. Aurora was already bustling down the hallway, leaving Matthew with the grunt work. Matthew cursed under his breath…but he hadn’t exactly been left with a choice. The patient was his number one priority and Matthew would die before he forgot that.

His other patients kept him busy for the next several hours. He found out the curly haired intern was named Landy Olsen and was as big a fan of Dr Ramsey as he was. He was envious that Matthew had been there to help that morning and dismissed that Ramsey had torn Matthew a new one.

Another intern – a woman with long auburn ringlets – seemed to care much more about working what it was like working with Aurora. She was so dazzled that she almost forgot she was taking a blood test. Matthew was starting to wonder if there was anyone who actually cared about patients rather than the medical celebrities, but he was reassured when he spotted a petite intern with a long brown braid comforting a little girl whose mother had been admitted.

Matthew took a chance to lean against the wall, suddenly realising he hadn’t sat down for hours. One of the older nurses approached him.

“Dr Valentine?”

“Hi…Marlene, was it?”

“That’s right,” she smiled. “ I have the results from your patient in 532.”

Matthew nodded and read through them. Annie had picked up an uncommon strain of bacteria.

“Let’s start with 200mg of cefpodoxime antibiotics every twelve hours and see how we go.”

“Got it,” Marlene nodded and gave Matthew a smile. “Hang in there, Dr Valentine. You’ve got this.”

Matthew went back to work feeling a tiny bit lighter.

When he went back to check on Annie, she was curled in bed, playing on her phone.

“Hi Annie, how are you feeling?”

Annie blinked at him.

“The same. The nurses gave me some medication just now, though.”

“Antibiotics. It’s too soon to see an improvement yet, but hopefully you’ll feel a bit better soon.”

He turned to leave but Annie called out to him.

“Actually could you…if you can, would you stay a while? It’s kind of lonely being here on my own.”

“Of course!”

Annie beamed as Matthew settled into a chair beside her bed.

“Thanks Dr Valentine.”

“Thank you. I haven’t been off my feet in six hours!” Matthew sighed in relief. “So, what are you studying?”

Annie blinked, her head nodding. Matthew frowned.

“My m-masters…in E-English…but…”

“Annie, are you feeling OK?” Matthew asked urgently, jumping up, but Annie’s head slumped and she fell back, unconscious against the pillow.

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

It’s become something of a monthly tradition for Billy and Steve to go to the movies. They take turns picking at random, sometimes laughing and silently making fun of the film with each other, sometimes finding a true gem that they plan on buying on tape later on. Always holding hands and sharing snacks no matter what.

It’s 1988, late November, and they’re bundled up in sweaters and enough layers to stave off the bite in the air, but Billy still shivers when they climb out of the car.

His brows are pinched together as he takes hold of Holly’s hand when they cross the street. Like the action is forced.

Steve was a little surprised when Karen of all people decided to call last minute and ask them to babysit — logically it makes sense, with Nancy off at college and Mike keeping himself out of the house, to ask Billy and Steve for a favor. They have a tendency for collecting strays, probably worse than Hopper.

Still, Steve recalls the face that Billy made when he picked up the phone and heard Karen’s voice.

That look of abject terror. Discomfort. Hurt.

Of course, despite everything, he still said yes. Never mind that they had a date night planned for this evening, or that their house wasn’t presentable for guests. Steve spent a good half hour tidying things up before they headed over to the Wheeler’s and spent the entire drive trying to help Billy relax his grip on the wheel.

When Holly finally slid into the back seat with her unicorn backpack and hair up in pigtails, Billy seemed to relax a little.

At least, he did when they actually pulled out of the driveway.

Now they’re standing out front of the theater, browsing the various posters. Billy points at one in particular that makes Steve’s nose wrinkle.

“No, we aren’t watching that.”

“Why not? It’s got a doll on the cover.”

“Bill.”

The blond smiles and raises his free hand in mock surrender before he glances down at Holly, who releases his hand in favor of walking up to another movie poster for a closer look.

She doesn’t say anything. Just admires the artwork, and Billy and Steve share a glance before they approach the ticket booth.

“Three tickets for the dinosaur movie, please.”

They’ve never gone to see a cartoon before, but Steve supposes that there’s a first time for everything. They get their snacks and make their way towards their theater, passing more posters along the way.

It seems cute. Steve’s always liked dinosaurs.

“I bet it’s gonna be some shit about learning the alphabet or something,” Billy whispers, and Steve chuckles and elbows him.

And he could not have been more wrong.

They’re decently entertained in the beginning, sharing glances over the top of Holly’s head every now and again. About half an hour into the film, Steve isn’t smiling anymore.

He kind of freezes in his seat. Thinks uh oh before he even gets the chance to look over at his partner.

And, yeah, Steve’s getting a little bleary eyed, but Billy’s face is streaming with tears. He has a hand clasped over his mouth, eyes wide. Completely unaware that the darkness in the theater isn’t enough to shield him from view.

Steve wants to go around to the other seat and lift up the armrest between them. Snuggle into his side like they usually do. Hell, he kind of wants to just grab him and go, because this was supposed to be fun.

Before he settles on a decision, Holly looks up at Billy and instantly scoots closer to his seat. Wraps her little arms around his bicep and leans against him without so much as a blink. It works to calm him down enough that he doesn’t look horrified anymore — really, Steve’s just surprised that he doesn’t shove her away afterwards.

He hates it when people see him cry.

The three of them stay seated, no longer hesitant about finishing the movie. Every time Steve glances over at his partner, he seems utterly serious about paying attention to the plot. Sure, he giggles when something silly happens on the screen, but he always defaults back to pinching his eyebrows together in concentration.

There are a few points in the movie that have Steve’s eyes watering again, but none so much as the end. And he knows that if he’s a little distraught, Billy’s a fucking wreck.

When the lights come on and they exit the theater, Holly dumps her empty soda cup in the trash and makes a direct line for the restroom, her two adult chaperones left waiting outside with puffy eyes and red noses.

Steve leans his back against the wall and pats Billy’s shoulder after a moment.

“You alright, bud?”

The blond nods. Shoves his hands into his pockets and sniffles, keeping his gaze trained on his boots.

“I liked it.”

“You did?” Steve almost laughs when he says it, but manages to keep it down when Billy casts a half-hearted glare at him. “Who was your favorite character?”

Billy contemplates briefly before he shrugs.

“I liked Ducky.”

“Really? I totally thought you’d like Cera.”

Billy really does glare at him then and Steve snorts.

“Fuck Cera. She was a stubborn asshole and she left Petrie to die in the tar pit, for Christ’s sake, dude.”

Steve softens his smile a bit. Smooths his hand from Billy’s shoulder to his back and rubs a circle right between his shoulder blades.

“Don’t be so hard on Cera. She just wasn’t good at making friends, but that wasn’t her fault, y’know? Doesn’t make her a bad person.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but when they do, Billy sighs. He shifts his weight on his feet, leaning ever so slightly closer to Steve.

“Which one was your favorite?” he asks.

“Hmm… I think I’m gonna have to go with Spike.”

Billy huffs a laugh.

“Why Spike?”

“I dunno, he’s a funky little guy. He just walks around and eats plants and hangs out. Doesn’t get better than that.” Steve grins when Billy gives him a look. “Why do you like Ducky?”

That makes Billy burn red. He crosses his arms and looks away.

“It’s stupid.”

“Aw, honey, I’m sure it isn’t,” Steve coos.

He tilts his head to the side to get a better view of his lover’s face. Billy remains quiet for a beat before he heaves another sigh.

“She’s like the whole reason that any of them became friends, y’know? She’s the glue that holds them together. Without her, none of them would’ve made it to the Great Valley.” His voice is soft when he speaks, but he lowers it even more when he adds, “She reminds me of you.”

And, god, if Steve hadn’t already cried multiple times tonight, he’d be burning up and absolutely bawling right now. He clears his throat and tries to keep composed when Holly exits the bathroom.

The three of them take their leave. She holds Billy’s hand when they cross the street again, and when they’re all piled into the car, he seems a bit more at ease. Like the tears have reached the end of their flow for the evening.

Steve, on the other hand, is biting his lip to keep it from quivering as he stares out the window. It doesn’t take long for Billy’s hand to reach over the center console and find Steve’s, fingers interlocked despite the presence in the back seat.

They have a feeling that Holly isn’t going to be telling anyone anyway.

[cooloddball]

This is going to be a super long analysis of jib3 starting with the opening ceremony to the closing ceremony so brace yourselves. 

Please note I believe in the breakup theory so maybe my opinion in this one might be biased so please don’t come for me, lol.

I will put it under the cut to avoid overcrowding your dashes with cockles shenanigans. 

Also, watch out for profanities and mature language.

And so it begins...

Opening ceremony

The camera used to record the opening ceremony is shaky. 

Misha, Jason Manns, and Jarpad seem to be having a lot of fun together and Jensen is just looking at his besties talking to the man he loves and he knows he can’t have that so he just stands there looking at them. Poor guy.

Jarpad asks who took Misha’s riffle? Things are awkward, I honestly don’t know what’s going on.

Misha kisses a plushie while making eye contact with Jensen and Jensen is like “oh, oh, wow” while making eye contact with Misha. LOL. Jack help me. This is a lot!!!

Jensen takes a plushie from Sebastian and Jared takes the one Misha had.

Are you guys flirting about trying to see whether you can keep plushies alive?

Misha throws something at the fans, I think he was throwing treats from earlier or whatever it was and Jensen says “Misha is still throwing” I mean why?

Cockles Panel

Jensen is so extra in this panel.

First of all, when he and Misha come out (no pun intended) a song starts playing and he starts dancing. Jensen is usually so poised while dancing but he is over the top throwing his back and shaking his tush for the mish.  I think he was trying a little too hard. Misha spares his ex-boyfriend’s tush a glance smiles and looks away. LOL. The whole thing was cringey, tbh. It was so unlike Jensen.

When Sebastian touches Jensen’s shoulder and says something to Jensen, he [Jensen]  laughs way too hard. I would say he laughs abnormally-it’s loud and he throws his whole body into it like he’s trying to prove what Sebastian was funny and it probably wasn’t. He laughs so hard he ends up right on Misha’s side. and Misha laughs at that though.

Rich says something about something in the sac that hurts(It’s incoherent) and Jensen says it hurts right here pointing at his heart (I can’t hear what they are saying exactly so if anyone knows please let me know)

I don’t know if Mark P. was going to hug Jensen or not or he was pointing at something behind Jensen, but at that moment, Jensen sees Sebastian going to hug Misha and whips his head away from Mark P’s direction so fast he almost broke his neck.

Sebastian humps Misha (these two are so playful I love them) and Jensen is just there acting awkward 

There’s a comment by Rich about “It’s over, the convention’s over I’m no longer your bitch” I don’t know who this is about.

Now, now, now. This whole time Rich is doing a kissy mouth with his fingers on the monitor behind Jensen and Misha. His hand is right where Misha is standing (you’ll understand once you watch it) so Jensen makes a kissy face back and Misha is blushing? Ummm wtf is going on here?

Jensen also does something strange that he never does during cockles panels he pulls his seat away from Misha.

Misha makes a very weird comment about Sebastian’s libido drying up and they have a weird conversation about libido and Viagra ads. It’s weird.

It gets even more awkward Jensen talks about bringing a total stranger, and a blind date. And it goes downhill from there with them. The it wasn’t you it was me speech. It was special. So heartbreaking. It was clearly not about the show but about their relationship. I always have a difficult time getting through that part. It’s so awkward that the fans are just there wondering what the hell is going on.

They decide to take questions and the fan is all over the place so Misha interjects but Jensen won’t let Misha say what he wants to say so he says, “This is why you make it awkward. You never let people finish what they are saying.” Ouch. Domestic dispute vibes anyone?

The way Jensen is looking up at Misha when he’s answering that question. It’s like he wants to sear his face into his memory before they leave Rome.

Jensen is explaining to a fan how one of the four sound stages they had on set was full of furniture and Misha adds “and soiled mattresses”  I mean what was the reason? Did they soil the mattresses with their [redacted]

A fan mentions something about Dean and Cas so these two adorable dorks smile and share a look. Things are starting to look up. Thank Jack.

The fan says something again (I can’t make out what he’s saying) but it must be something nice because they look at each other with smiles on their faces again.

Jensen playing with the head of his microphone. Is it just me or did the temperature rise a notch higher?

The way they look at each other when the fan says to help him choose the hottest female cast member on the show 

Then something freaky happens they say the exact same thing as twins or bffs do sometimes. LOL.

When they start talking about the hot women with the fans Misha moves his entire body and now instead of looking at the fans, he is seated facing Jensen.  The tension is simmering down.

A point to note is that in all their panels they always sit angled facing each other as opposed to facing the crowd save for this panel and DCCON 2019. But for DCCON I can understand that they weren’t comfortable being meant to be a J/2 panel and a creation event. So you know some people in that crowd are super mean to Mish and others to Jensen, so they had to tread carefully. But I digress back to the chaos.

They ask who wants to have a cockles panel the next year and they both raise their hands. I thought that was sweet

 It’s adorable how Jensen keeps repeating everything Misha is saying.

Misha forgets himself and moves too close to Jensen to listen to the song on the phone. Jensen turns to look at Misha, I don’t know what that look is but Misha backs away laughing.

Jensen’s face journey while listening to that song is gold.

Misha moves closer to listen to the song.  I have to say the way they are standing is not usually how two bros listening to music usually stand. If you know what I mean

 Misha agrees that’s definitely Jensen singing. Of course, he knows because Mr. “Jensen sings to me all the time”

He looks so proud of him.  I’d venture to say he’s happy to hear Jensen sing because he has always been so shy about that fact about himself. He even gives him a standing ovation. That’s so adorable. He loves him. My heart.

Jensen is so cute trying to deny it’s not him singing that song.  Yeah, it’s you, Jensen. Even your ex agrees it’s you and we bet he knows how your voice sounds in all kinds of situations ;)

we get a tingly feeling so we know it’s you. Jensen’s adorable smile when Misha says that. Aww.

The way they are not even looking at each other but they are seated the exact same way.

Allow me to explain to my friend here. Explains how his parents didn’t know whether he was a boy or a girl. Misha with the steel chair, “when did they figure out that you were a boy?”

How many years did they call you holly?

For six to seven years

Is it just me or is this conversation a flashback of teenage twink-lesbian Jensen years?

Fan asks whether Dean will ever forgive Cas. Watch Misha’s body language, he is trying to pacify himself by rubbing the back of his neck and fumbling with his shirt.

When Jensen says “ No!” without a moment’s hesitation, Misha looks distraught? I don’t know maybe I’m reading too much into this but I feel like this hit too close to home being that they were most likely broken up.

Misha however has a different opinion, “I think he has” 

Jensen says, “Wishful thinking” and that elicits a smile from Misha.

A fan asks about Dean giving Cas the trenchcoat back and things get interesting.  Weirdly, that Jensen can’t say the word gay out loud. He literally uses the word “unmanly” in its stead in the guise of censorship? It’s not a bad word Jensen you can say it. However, Misha and the fans say the word so I’m wondering who is censoring Jensen’s use of that word. He eventually says it but super fast.

Jensen says that saying “I always knew you would come back” is not something he would say to another human being, especially a man. Jesus, there’s nothing wrong with saying that to another human being you care about. He’s the one making it gay. He was extra when answering that one.

They spent one and half hours making that scene just to end up not saying anything and it ended up looking gay anyway. Anyway, that’s interesting.

 Jensen angles his body towards Mish and says in a very low soft and sexy voice “I guess I really hoped that you would come back some day” I would venture to say that Jensen at the moment in the panel was actually saying them to Misha. Who knows though?

They talk about it a whole lot for something that bothered him that much. 

Misha being so excited about recreating a scene when a fan told Jarpad he’s amazing and Jarpad said "you are welcome. 

 “I think I understand what she wants. I’m not sure what she’s gonna get.” This is a very good line Misha. I will be using it often.

The way they awkwardly stand too close and whisper to each other. Umm…what is going on here?

Jensen folds over laughing because of something Misha says. They are back. The tension is almost 90% gone now and they are in their element.

The chaos of recording the alarm ringtone for the fan was just great to watch. They kept getting closer and closer and I think they might have shared spit at that point. Gross….LOL

The way Misha is sitting is he you know.

Jensen asking Misha whether he was saying anything or just screaming while they were recording. I think he just wanted to see Misha smile.

Jensen’s joy when a fan mentions that they have Misha’s résumé.

Jensen saying the word shit made my day. I curse a  lot and it made me feel validated somehow.

Misha calls him dickhead in return and Jensen stops functioning and laughs instead . He also gets all hot and bothered trying to fumble with the lapel of his shirt.  He does this a lot when he is turned on. He has a humiliation kink I think.

They start talking over each other about Misha’s special skills. Looks like Jensen might have known beforehand because he went straight for that. Or maybe he didn’t know but he knew since Misha is a mad genius there must be some amazing things in there. Either way, it was a good moment.

OMG Jensen is so excited and the way he motions to Misha to bring that résumé to him, LOL. This man was thirsty AF.

He even goes down from the stage to meet Misha and invades his personal space trying to reach the résumé. I think this is the moment the tension between them dissipated completely and they were back to some form of normalcy.

Misha holding Jensen’s shoulder trying to get his résumé back. Unsucessfully, I should add.

They read something funny and they fold over laughing and spin around like overjoyed seals. It is far removed from the mollusk family but at least it’s still a sea creature (I don’t know what I’m saying please don’t mind me)

Jensen is still on his knees laughing and can’t get up. As I said, he is being too extra in this panel.

 Misha is trying to talk but they both can’t stop laughing. I think Jensen laughed so hard he got an extra set of abs that day.

Jensen is still laughing and you know what he is laughing at? Misha’s special skills being acting on camera. I mean it’s funny but man, prayforjensen.

 They are still laughing. Jack, help them.

The way Jensen looks at Misha with pure adoration here makes me so happy and reminds me of the fictional characters they played being all heart eyes for each other.

 Misha laughed so hard he cried.

Jensen trying to read the next ‘special skill’ Misha has but he can’t even talk because of how funny he thinks it is. He’s trying so hard not to laugh but he can’t help himself.

Jensen agreeing and also asking the audience to agree that Misha has a knack for certain accents. Accent kink anyone?

 Jensen is so excited when Misha starts Tibetan throating singing and does the unicorn laugh facing away from the crowd. Bet he has experienced Misha’s Tibetan throat singing skills on a personal when they are (loud overhead helicopter noises followed by thunder rumbling)

Jensen falling to the ground after feigning a heart attack once he saw that Misha is a certified EMT. I mentioned before that I honestly, 100% think he wanted mouth to mouth. There’s no other explanation. He could’ve feigned a nose bleed or just about any other illness but he chose to fall on a dirty floor and lay down so Misha could either give him the breath of life or straddle him. Luckily for him his dream came true 7 years later at Jib9 when straddle gate happened. But I digress

Too bad Misha was still mad at him and heartbroken so he kicked him instead.

Jensen knowing that Misha kayaks seems to be part of his personal knowledge. Maybe they did it together sometimes.

Horseback riding. Hmm is it just me or do they seem awkward here?

 Misha is so close to Jensen’s armpits. Must be missing his man’s musk and being held in those muscular arms again. Poor baby.

Misha can’t talk because of how funny he finds bicycle touring. I mean…I don’t see what’s funny but I guess he knows why it’s funny.

Misha laughing and raises his legs because Jensen is elaborating on the bicycle touring. Maybe it’s an inside joke or maybe it’s no longer funny to me because I’ve watched this panel like 5 times.

 I think Jensen’s goal was to see Misha laugh and be happy because he turned to look at Misha who was still laughing hard and the joy on Jensen’s face. Aww.

Misha gravitating towards his man again. He must smell really nice Misha. And those arms. Bet he used to lift you against the wall and (this fucking thunder won’t stop rambling. Are chuck and Amara fighting again?)

Jensen marketing his man’s carpentry skills but then makes sure to make it ‘no homo’ by saying he would never sit on anything Misha has built. Sure Jan. Then he circles back and says that he knows that he can build things.

Misha walks away from him and he looks up to make sure where he is going. Maybe he was afraid Misha was walking out on him. (PTSD from their breakup?)

They mention acting on camera again.

And laugh 

Jensen keeps talking about the acting on camera and watches to see if Misha is still laughing  He still is and Jensen is happy that his baby is happy. He looks at him again and he is still happy that Misha is still happy. Then once the laughter dies down he starts talking about bicycle touring  and checks again to see if Misha is laughing which he is so Jensen throws his head back  unicorn laughing and then looks at Misha again to see that he’s still laughing. Then they look at each other and say something maybe it’s about that was a good laugh. Jensen is wiping tears from his eyes because of how hard he laughed  Misha does the same. That entire thing was insane and they seemed to love it.

 Jensen starts saying that being this happy or goofing around is how they are on set sometimes and have to take a 5-10 minute break and Misha doesn’t seem too happy at the mention of the set. 

Jensen knowing that you can buy résumés on eBay. Did he buy Misha’s and then plant someone in the audience to bring it up or? Okay, yeah I know I’m reaching here but it’s probable.

 I guess my theory wasn’t farfetched because Jensen says that he’s pretty sure that Jarpad put it on eBay the previous night so maybe he is the one who did all that to win Misha back?

Jensen knows the appellation clogging is a stretch. Seems like Misha has told him about it before.

Jensen looking at his watch to see if they have time for  Misha to be telling a story about his high school sweetheart and now wife. I bet he wishes Misha could tell their love story so openly. He can’t stop looking at Misha.

The way Jensen is looking at Misha here. WTF man? He’s literally confused about what the question is.

The personal space question. This whole thing was just so many things. It was awkward, cringey, thirsty, funny.

when the fan asks whether there’s a funny fact between Jensen and Misha. I almost fainted. What? And Jensen repeats it. The two men are so stoic. They are not even looking at each other. They are looking at the fan like the way a statue stares at you, unmoving. Cringe.

The room is so quiet. Poor girl, I hope she didn’t feel awkward afterwards because if it were me, I would’ve cried from how stoic they looked and how quiet everyone was.

How they both scratch themselves, Misha on the head and Jensen on the nose. Maybe the question hit too close to home

Jensen turns to look at Misha as if to say ’help me out here man. We don’t wanna disappoint our fans.”

Misha gets it because he gets up. This whole thing is gold.

The way Jensen breathes out in anticipation. I know it was like they were playing a skit about personal space but why was he breathing like that? Shouldn’t he have been playing it as ‘uncomfortable’ not ‘turned on.’ Boudoir mannerisms.

Moving on Misha is unsure on where to touch Jensen 40.31. This is weird in and of itself because usually, they don’t have a problem touching each other’s faces, tush, eggplants, (jib4 anyone), backs et cetera. But now it’s weird? *cough* breakup *cough*

Misha touches Jensen’s ear and Jensen literally moans. He frigging moans people. In case it is not clear in the video, here is an isolated audio version of it. Jensen is also fumbling with his shirt like he’s all hot and bothered. Just like Misha did earlier. Was Jib3 their couple’s therapy that reminded them how happy and horny they made each other?

Jensen is really not answering the question, to be honest. He’s fumbling for words and trying so very hard to make sense but his word are  incoherent.

Misha going in for the nose dip. I know friends do this all the time but you have to be very close and familiar with someone such as a friend friend or a sibling for you to poke a finger in their nose. I mean noses are slimy and eww…anyway. That happened. They seem so comfortable with it. Jensen I love you but please stop talking.

The way Jensen looks at Misha. He has the cutest smile on his face as if saying thank you for making that fun and making me horny, I still want you.

Misha wiping his pinky that touched Jensen’s nose on his pants. (I wanted to add something disgusting about what heshould’ve done with that pinky but I won’t so let’s move on)

Jensen wiggling his nose.

When Misha suggests that Spn moves to Nickolodeon. Jensen laughs a bit too hard.

Misha talking about spn being a puppet show reminds me of how he mentioned them having a puppet show in Jensen’s backyard after the show is over.

Jensen also saying that in a way spn is a puppet show. I mean is someone making snide comments about how their strings get pulled and sometimes they are not happy about it. Like how they fired his boyfriend. It seems like it’s an inside joke.

They named the plushie Zippy aww :))

For jack’s sake guys, the way they look at each other when they mention that the  résumé was the highlight of the panel.

Jensen saying the more dirt you dig up on Misha, the more rewarded you are. Aww, someone’s trying to win his man back by any means necessary. You go girl…I mean Jensen.

He talks more about how he’s looking forward to next year when fans have more dirt on his friend Misha. Jensen didn’t want to leave the stage, he was lingering so he could spend more time with Misha.

It’s over guys.

Closing Ceremony

I know you didn’t ask for the closing ceremony but here you go. It’s a free gift.

Can I just mention how Jarpad is an overactive puppy? He has to play with anything and everything he finds.

The mc announces Misha twice for some reason. The second time Jensen looks in Misha’s direction with a small smile on his face. He [Jensen] is also chewing vigorously.

Jensen and Jarpad being typical dude bros and karate chop Rich. This is why the difference between his relationship with Jarpad and Misha stands out. He would be too busy making heart eyes to Misha to kick another guy. LoL.

Jensen hulking out when Jarpad is taking a video of everyone. Lol. This video keeps reiterating my point that his relationship with the two men is just different.

Jensen keeps looking in Misha’s direction, Misha who is busy talking to Steve and having fun. Let me also mention Steve is Jensen’s bestie and so are Jarpad and Misha, but I’m sure that Jensen felt some type of way, jealous when they were having so much fun with his man and he couldn’t. Jarpad also takes a while filming Misha for Jensen of course. They remind me of me having a crush back when I was in school. Wait, did Misha look at Jensen? It’s hard to see because the angle of the video is not expansive but I guess he was.

As soon as Jarpad gets back, Jensen takes the camera from him and starts filming fans. I’m sure he just wanted Misha to look at him

Rich mention’s Misha and something about acting on camera and Jensen licks his lips looking at Misha (I think).

Jensen then vigorously grabs the microphone from someone immediately and mention’s Misha. Jarpad’s reaction at that moment tells you everything you need to know about what’s going on between Jensen and Misha. It looks like he is pleading with Jensen in his head saying, “Don’t embarrass yourself bro. Please don’t” but it’s too late.

Jensen again talks about Misha’s résumé and specifically about acting on camera, the thing that made Misha laugh out loud during their panel. Someone’s smitten. Defending his ex-man.

Jarpad goes to whisper something to Misha. And they laugh while Jensen is thanking the jib staff for doing an amazing job. But when he sees the duo laughing, he loses track of thought and says “and they are all getting married”  dude what ??? How do you go from thanking people who worked on the convention and in .1 seconds you are talking about they are all getting married? Who is? Are you okay? Do you need to sit down? No one gets it, he says he’s kidding and gives Jarpad the microphone, spares a glance at Misha and he seems distraught from that moment on. I wish I could see Misha’s face through all this.

He’s glancing in Misha’s direction again. Man’s got it bad. What?! Oh to be loved by Jensen Ackles. Misha must be a prize, I know he is a mad genius and gorgeous and sexy as hell with that golden skin that looks like it was dipped in gold and honey, big blue eyes that are bluer than the bluest blue, but Jensen wtf man? You are in public.

 I think Jarpad is telling Jensen something maybe it has to do with what he and Misha were talking about earlier?

And it’s over people.

Overall, I agree with the breakup theory. I mean the way these two were acting around each other was very strange. If you watch Misha and Jarpad, they seem okay from the opening ceremony up till the end but Jensen and Misha are just being weird.

The panel was mostly fun but their body language told a story that something was definitely going on between them. 

@littlewolf2703

[poobletoods]

my brain likes to bombard me with ideas when i’m in the middle of falling asleep and then i have to grab my phone and barf out some words before zonking out so here’s last night’s notes app ramblings, this time about the psychonauts au where otto and ford go with lucy to grulovia (aka the au born from the sims game where everybody had kids and i needed a reason for it not to be sad)

in the universe where redd exists, maligula was never a thing, so the psychic six/seven never got famous for defeating her, but i think there was a different big baddy they took down in the years following lucy, ford, and otto's return to the gulch instead. not sure what or who or why, but helmut got hurt pretty bad during that battle when he took a hit for bob, and it was a really scary and horrible experience for everyone. he recovered, but the whole incident made him realize that maybe psychic secret agent missions weren't for him. he has bob and redd to take care of, he can't be risking his life like that every time some lunatic shows up trying to take over the world or whatever. bob agreed, of course-- seeing helmut injured like that was the worst thing he could imagine, and having to tell redd that his papa had gotten hurt bad on a mission wasn't exactly easy either. he didn't want anything like that to happen again. the two of them told ford a few months after the incident that they were done, and he wasn't surprised. helmut wasn't the only one roughed up in the battle, after all. ford himself had taken a pretty nasty blow to the head that was still interfering with his psychic abilities. if all three of them were out of commission, well... maybe it was time for the psychonauts to expand. otto was fully on board for the idea, on the condition that the base for their new operation wasn't in the gulch. that was THEIR space. bob got in touch with truman, truman gathered some of his trusted psychic confidants, they brought their own connections to the project, and pretty soon construction for the first motherlobe had begun. being the founders, the psychic 7 were still the heads of the organization, but truman and hollis were always better with the logistical stuff. ford and the gang mainly identified possible threats and dispatched teams accordingly. they all used their unique skills to help the newer agents as well, leading classes and sometimes mentoring the most promising young psychics-- sasha was otto's first apprentice, and milla was one of helmut's star pupils. the psychic 7's kids grew up through the formation of the modern day psychonauts, too. redd spent a lot of time helping psychic kids get a hold of their abilities, and he was the one who gave ford the idea to start whispering rock. he works there as a counselor now, not so much teaching as just wrangling herds of magical ten year olds.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

BTS DRABBLE-OT7

Contrary to peoples' opinions-surrounding the fact that you're dating seven men that belong to the mafia-you're not helpless. You can defend yourself. But a close brush with some dangerous people has your boyfriends questioning that fact-wondering if you can protect yourself enough-and true to their natures, they're not going to stand idly by if you're in any sort of danger whatsoever.

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, BTS Drabble, OT7, BTS x you, BTS x reader, OT7 x reader, OT7 x you, Poly!BTS, Mafia Au, Angst, Fluff, Kim Seokjin, Min yoongi, Jung hoseok, Kim namjoon, Park Jimin, Kim taehyung, Jeon Jungkook

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Title: Protect You

The garden that surrounds the mansion is usually quiet this time of morning-the sound of birds just starting to sing their songs, the trickle of the fountain that runs down into a meandering stream through the trees-but this morning, the clear morning air is broken by the harsh, insistent sound of a squeaky toy.

"Tannie, Tannie!" You hold aloft the rubber duck and squeak it once more enthusiastically, the small dog dancing around your feet-eyes bright, ears perked, tongue lolling-as he waits for you to toss the toy once more. "You want it? Go get it!"

You throw the duck across the open space of the courtyard and the dog streaks off in a flash of black and tan fur, tiny legs churning, as he barks happily, chasing after the bouncing rubber toy.

You sit back down on the bench, slightly laughing to yourself at the dog's almost maniacal enthusiasm, and reach out a hand to caress Holly's head where he sits beside you, paws folded neatly, on the stone seat beneath the shade of the fruit trees.

"To have that kind of energy, eh, Holly?" You ask gently, glancing over at the older poodle, who gives you a slight wag of his tale, pink tongue hanging past his lips, though he has been doing nothing but sitting in the shade. You stroke his head affectionately, rubbing his soft, silky ears between your fingers. "Yeah, I know. I like the shade better too."

Tannie appears back at your feet again, panting hard, dark eyes glittering, as he proudly drops the duck he has retrieved at the toes of your sneakers.

"Good boy, Tan!" You exclaim, leaning over to pet the other dog, as he dances in place and his tail wags furiously at your praise. "You brought me your toy! You're so good. You did so good."

You stand from the bench, reaching down to round up the toys Yeontan has been playing with, and Holly rises-stretching languidly-beside you, as you glance between both eagerly waiting dogs and ask, "You guys want some water? Wanna go inside and take a break for awhile? Let's go get some water."

Yeontan, circling your feet, yips happily and bounds toward the back door, leading the way back toward the house, as you glance back to make sure Holly is following-albeit a slower pace-behind the two of you.

And that's when the pair of men step out from behind the trees that line the tall wall that surrounds the property.

The shorter one grins at you, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his slacks, and flicks the toothpick he holds between his teeth around with a light twitch of his tongue. "Hello there, Mrs. Kim."

You watch the pair warily, as they continue to advance toward you on slow, stalking footsteps. "Gentlemen. Can I ask what you're doing in my garden?"

The man who had spoke before-the one with the long greasy hair tied at the nape of his neck-spits his toothpick onto the ground and arches a brow in your direction, hands still hidden in his pockets, though his shoulders raise slightly as he gives you a casual shrug. "Just out for a walk. Thought we'd stop in for a visit."

Holly growls at your feet, hackles raised, as the two men step closer still, and you reach down to pick him up, sheltering him in your arms, as you ask calmly, "Really? Because I don't recall that we've ever met."

"Oh, we haven't." The man replies, flicking a finger toward his taller counterpart, who has yet to speak. At his motion, his partner circles to your other side, so that you're now backed into a corner of the garden-the men on either side-and no easy escape in sight. "But we've met your husband many times." He flashes you a dangerous grin that has your insides squirming.

They're referring to Namjoon, you're sure of that. That's always been the agreement between the eight of you-you belong to all of them-but Namjoon is the public face of the relationship.

"He's never mentioned you." You state simply, trying to keep any micro expressions off your face that might hint at the fact that you're starting to get nervous. Your eyes flick toward the back door of the house, about a hundred yards away and blocked by the trees.

"Hmmm." The man leans beside you on one of the tree trunks, and you can almost taste his sweat and his rumpled suit jacket smells of damp and something resembling smoke and cat piss. "Really? Odd." He cocks his head, and his dark eyes hold a dangerous glint, as he reaches up to stroke a finger down the side of your face, Holly baring his teeth in your arms at his close proximity. "Speaking of, where is our good friend Mr. Kim? Away at work?"

There's no use trying to lie. You know-by the way he's watching you, and the stupid leer that crosses the other man's face-that they already know quite well that Namjoon isn't here.

"Yes." You nod, just barely, and jerk your skin away from the man's still trailing finger. "He had business in the city today."

"Oh, well that's too bad." The man clucks his tongue against his teeth in a display of fake disappointment, and his eyes darken as his gaze sweeps down your body. "It's a shame we missed him." He grins wickedly. "I guess you'll just have to tell him we stopped by and relay our message for us."

Before you can react, the shorter man has grabbed your wrists in clammy fingers, Holly frantically barking and snapping in your arms as he closes in on the two of you.

"Get the damn dog out of here." The man barks, struggling to maintain his grip on you as he dodges Holly's flashing teeth.

The taller man rips Holly from your arms and tosses him across the garden away from the three of you, and though he yelps, you're grateful they've released him and not tried to harm him.

Because the pit in your stomach is telling you you won't be so lucky.

The shorter man, his grip on your wrists still tight and painful, has become distracted in that moment, watching his partner toss Holly, and you take the opportunity to slam your shoe down hard on his foot.

He yelps, releasing you for the briefest second, and that's all the time you need to dart past him and toward the door of the house.

You hear the man swear behind you and yell something to the taller man about catching you before you make it inside, but all you can focus on is not tripping and tangling yourself in the foliage as you sprint toward the house.

Your salvation is within maybe ten yards, when the taller man catches up with you.

He catches your wrist and before you can make a sound, slams you with the weight of his body back against the stucco wall of the house, right beside the back door and your only bid for freedom.

You're all breathing hard when the shorter man reaches the two of you, fire blazing behind the dark rings of his irises.

"Stupid bitch." He growls out between loose lips, before hitting you hard across the face with the palm of his hand.

The slap sends your head careening back against the stone wall behind you and leaves your cheek stinging, and as you orient yourself once more-still breathing hard-you can taste the copper sheen of blood on your tongue from your newly split lip.

The man reaches for the buckle of his belt, still glaring at you, and spits on the ground at your feet, before he addresses the taller man who still holds you pinned against the wall. "Hold her still. I think it's time we taught Boss Kim and his little bitch here a long overdue lesson."

The taller man nods, and the way his fingers tighten around your wrists has you wincing slightly.

"Now." The other man steps up to you, and the stench of his warm, putrid breath washing across your face has you feeling as if you're about to vomit. His fingers close on either side of your chin and wrench your gaze up to his own. He smirks wickedly. "I hope you know, I'm going to enjoy this."

You spit in his face violently, saliva and blood mixing into a pink spittle that splashes across his face, which instantly darkens, as he releases your chin and raises his hand into the air to once again deliver a stinging blow.

And then, the sound of a gun cocking has everyone freezing in their tracks.

"What the-" The man glances at his counterpart, who has gone still and is staring with wide eyes beyond his shoulder line, and then directs his gaze in the same direction behind the three of you.

The scene he's met with instantly has his previously venomous gaze filling with terror.

Yoongi's finger is steady on the trigger as he holds the gun on the two men, features dark and deceptively treacherously calm as Jin flanks one of his sides, Hobi on the other-and their faces are just as unreadable and blank-though you know there is a dark, dangerous current of emotions brewing just beneath that calm surface.

Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin complete the half circle surrounding your attackers, and glancing at the absolute and utter fear on the two men's faces, you can't blame them.

Looking down the ready, waiting barrels of six guns would make anybody-no matter how brave-wet themselves where they stood.

"I told you the truth." You speak into the suddenly electric silence that has fallen over the group, and your assailant glances back at you, as if he had forgotten you were there, mouth agape, eyes wide. You offer him an innocent smile. "Namjoon is at work. But I didn't say the other six were."

The sound of another gun cocking into position has the two men whirling back to face the circle of men surrounding you.

Taehyung's finger finds the trigger of his pistol, and-normally warm eyes dark-his lips quirk upward into just the hint of a humorless smirk as he stares down the two men beside you, and when he speaks, his voice is cold and absolutely murderous as he parrots back the words the intruder had used just moments before.

"I hope you know, I'm going to enjoy this."

**********

"What happened."

It isn't a question as Namjoon strides into the room, loosening his tie as he enters, usually unruffled attitude an odd mixture of humming danger and worry.

Yoongi glances up from where he sits in the corner, polishing his gun, and grunts out darkly, "Couple of goonies thought they'd get the upper hand and take out the boss's wife."

You can tell, by the way his normally controlled movements are jerky on the barrel of the weapon, that he is still worked up.

Namjoon crosses the room to where you sit on the sofa, coming to stand before you and the boys that surround you, though Jimin doesn't look up at him, focusing on cleaning the wound that cuts across your bottom lip.

"Ouch!" You hiss out as he hits a particularly tender spot with the antiseptic, jerking back from him, as he meets your gaze and offers you a slightly apologetic look as Hobi, who sits beside you, arm around your shoulders, gives you a comforting pat on the hand.

Namjoon crouches down and ignoring Jimin, pushes past the younger man, eyes softening slightly as he runs his thumb carefully over your split lip and up the purple bruising that is just starting to show on your cheekbone. "Whoever did this, I'll make them pay. I swear it."

You lean your cheek into the palm of his hand, his skin warmed by the afternoon sun, and offer him the hint of a smile, though it hurts your lip to do so. "I know you will."

"What do we do if this happens again, Namjoon?" Jin asks from where he is leaning against the desk, watching the interaction between the two of you with careful gaze. His hands are buried deep in his pockets, and he shifts from one foot to the other, brow furrowed as he regards the younger man. "If next time-"

"There's not going to be a next time." Namjoon cuts him off abruptly, standing up once more, as he sends the other man a hard look. "This is never going to happen again."

"But what if it does." Jungkook speaks up, and his normally large doe eyes are flashing with anger, irises no longer warm, but dark, as he slams his palms down in frustration on the desk his elder leans upon. "What if it does happen again, hyung? What then? We can't keep putting her in danger like this."

"I'm really fine-" You start to protest, speaking around Jimin's fingers, who has moved back into position to keep cleaning the long cut on your lips. His fingertips press into the plush skin of your mouth, effectively cutting off your words with a gentle admonishment.

He tilts his head and stares at you, full lips curving into a gentle smile, eyes crinkling, making you feel slightly better in the way only Jimin can, and when he speaks, his voice is gentle, just like his touch.

"No one is doubting you can take care of yourself, baby girl." His fingers caress the line of your jaw and his gaze is thoughtful. "We just don't want to put you in situations where you have to."

"Hyung." Taehyung steps up beside Namjoon, who is now staring out the large window behind the desk and down onto the gardens below, and when his hand rests on the leader's arm, you note that his fingers are still speckled with blood from the stand off earlier.

When he speaks again, the deep timbre of his voice shakes slightly, as if he's still so pissed off that he can hardly control himself. "Those sons of bitches almost touched her. If we hadn't been here-"

You wince at his choice of words, because he's right. Without them, you would have been left to an incredibly dark fate at the hands of the two intruders.

"I'm with Jungkook." Yoongi finally speaks up once more, and he stands from the corner, laying his now sparkling gun aside, as he approaches Namjoon and Taehyung, still silhouetted against the window. He heaves a sigh and glances in your direction, before addressing Namjoon seriously. "She needs to be able to protect herself. God forbid, there's another time, but if there is, we can't just leave her defenseless."

You can tell that Namjoon does not take the older man's opinion lightly, and you can visibly see him weighing his hyung's words before his shoulders slump in defeat, and he lets out a tired sigh. "All right."

He strides across the room again and crouches down in front of where you sit once more, long legs folded beneath his body, as his eyes meet yours in a firm gaze. He reaches out to take your chin in his hand, in a much gentler, much more loving grip than the man had used earlier, and his lips purse into a serious, stern line, before he intones quietly, eyes soft, "It's time to teach you a few things, darling."

******

The first thing you can think when Jin leads you into the armory and you see all the weapons lining the walls is holy shit.

The second thing is how have you never noticed how many different guns the men you love have at their disposal?

"So, you've got your assaults, your machines," Jin gestures to each rack of guns as you pass by on your tour, Jungkook trailing along behind the two of you, sometimes running loving fingers up certain weapons as you walk by. "Pistols, handguns, snipers, rocket launchers-"

"Have you guys used all of these guns?" You ask, mouth agape, as you glance around the huge room full of deadly weapons.

"No way." Jungkook shakes his head, bounding up to stand beside you, as he slings an arm around your shoulders and gives you a deceivingly innocent bunny smile, as if he's not talking about guns that kill people. "Some of these are specialized. We have to hire professionals for those."

"Aren't you professionals?" You question curiously, grinning slightly as Jungkook laughs at your query.

"Okay. Eventually, you can pick what feels most comfortable for you, princess." Jin reappears from another smaller room, cocking and loading a small handgun into his palm, as he approaches you and Jungkook. "However, we're going to start small for now."

He offers the gun to you, and you hesitate only a moment, before reaching out and taking the gun from him. The metal feels cold against your palm, as you fingering the gun, trying to get used to the weight.

A low whistle sounds from the entrance of the room, and you glance up as Taehyung enters, eyes scanning the racks of guns almost fondly, as he states lightly, "Look at all the pretties."

Jin sighs from beside you, rolling his eyes, though you catch the hint of a smile, before his expression becomes neutral again. "Can you please stop talking about assault rifles the same way you talk about shoes, Kim Taehyung?"

Taehyung smirks and winks at you, eyebrow cocked cheekily, as he reaches your side and throws his arms around you and Jungkook's shoulders. "C'mon hyung, lighten up. You know our girl's gonna be a natural." He chucks you playfully under the chin. "Right, sweetheart?"

You shrug, still trying to get used the feeling of the gun in the palm of your hand. "I dunno. I hope so?"

Jin takes your hand in his and leans over to press a kiss to the side of your forehead. "I'd believe him if I were you. He's uncannily good at predicting what other people are good at."

Taehyung grins at the praise. "Yeah! Like I can tell you that I predict that Jungkookie is gonna be shit at Fortnite when we play later tonight."

"Hey." Jungkook leans around you to try and catch Taehyung with his fist as the older boy laughs.

"All right, all right." Jin berates them lightly, though you can tell he's trying not to grin at the younger boys antics. He waves toward you and the gun you still hold in your hand. "Let's get (Y/N) to the shooting range then."

Taehyung slings his arm once more around your shoulders as you all follow Jin toward the range. "Trust me, sweetheart." He offers you the hint of a soft smile and squeezes your fingers between his own. "You're gonna get so good, next time those bastards try anything, they won't know what hit them before you blow their brains out."

[reidecorating]

Like Ivy

Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift. 

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :) 

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding. 

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do. 

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it. 

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request. 

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door. 

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well. 

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake. 

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :) 

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

 ∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-” 

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far. 

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?” You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way. 

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist. 

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?” 

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally  drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him. 

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,” 

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders. 

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen  at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,” 

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing,  trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud. 

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come. 

[amaryllisblackthorn]

theory/thoughts on maligula’s identity based on everything revealed so far (psychonauts 2 spoilers!!)

similarly to my other post, this basically involves an indepth look on things revealed in the peaks we’ve gotten into the game so spoilers especially if you don’t want to know what what may happen in the story beforehand based on close inspection of trailers and other stuff (including like, spotting concept art in the background of a video and such)

so based off of everything revealed about the game so far

lucrecia is almost definitely maligula. the only thing that’s an obstacle is the concept design of current lucrecia as a small old lady, but rn there’s so much indicating lucrecia’s maligula. there’s the imdb voice credit, there’s the fact that it’s the “psychic six” and not the psychic seven -- that lucrecia is the only one from the stumps at camp to be excluded from the stone tablet mural in hq while still having a depiction in the game on a stamp in ford’s mailroom mind level connected with the others which means she’s still relevant -- !!! 

basically: she’s excluded, and also relevant in the game, which means there’s a significance to her being excluded.

maligula is also described in the recent  Psychonauts 2 Developer Showcase as being one of the first enemies the Psychic Six fought. that certainly fits a former member-turned enemy, along with everything else. 

maligula is absolutely related to the galochios, which means lucrecia mux is related to the galachios.

my current tentative theory is that lucrecia/maligula is zalto galachio’s wife who lost herself to grief after her daughter died and. became murderous i guess. 

theoretically she could also have been a galachio who married out? but that’s why i said tentative theory.

the recent developer showcase stating that raz’s family history and the founding of the psychonauts being close/connected and the showing of the confrontation scene of maligula, helmut, and who i’ve been tentatively thinking is ford but could be someone else (like potentially lazarus or even  some random dude) being shown when tim schafer talks about how ‘the aquatos have been cursed by a mysterious figure to all die in water’ seems to further support this. in fact, it seems to suggest that maligula and not zalto was the one to curse the aquatos -- which honestly kind of reminds me of how they changed the second head of psychonauts from being Herndon to Hollis.

technically there could be another reason for the galachios to hate the aquatos and kill raz’s grandfather other than the death of augustus’ mother since the backstory from the lipo document isn’t technically canon and is liable to changes (like ford’s backstory + involvement with the psychonauts for instance) but i really hope they keep that  because i  really like the whole twisted aspect of the galachios (whether it be maligula, zalto, both) tormenting the descendents of their daughter out of projected blame and hate when it’s also their family too like. i really dig that so i hope that stays the same. 

maligula/lucrecia is also probably the reason helmut’s brain is separated from his body//that his location is ‘at the bottom of a frozen lake’ in grulovia -- where the aquatos were cursed to die in water -- on the letters in the mailroom level.

i’m sure there’s more to it and that im missing stuff but this is my tentative theory for now -- and i’m sure there are more  people who had similar thoughts. 

there is that concept design of current lucrecia as a small old lady that poses a possible threat -- maybe the lucrecia/maligula connection ends up being a redherring or something idk -- but maybe they ended up changing their minds during development or something. or maybe something else. idk. and that’s why i’m excited for the game haha

before i go i kind of wanna mention that before we really knew much about maligula and that she was a confirmed “mass murderer” i hoped it was gonna be marona/augustus’ mother than zalto would raise from the dead but she’d either turn on him bc he literally killed her and then her husband and did the opposite of  caring for her son so why wouldnt she??? or do something akin to Mary Rose by J.M. Barrie where she’s  kind of mindless/destructive with only focusing on finding her  son who is still a baby to her; also there’d be a level inside zalto’s mind where raz would eventually make him deal with his grief and the guilt he’s been projecting and not dealing with for killing his daughter. i’m kind of sad this isn’t the case --- although i know whatever it’s actually gonna be is gonna ne great !!!! dont get me wrong  -- but i still think this was a kind of neat idea so i wanted to write it down somewhere lol. basically i really want the marona’s descendants/galachio family connection existent and explored, which hopefully we’ll get no matter who maligula ends up being.

phew this was much longer than i intended it to be and kind of a mess but i kind of wanted to write my thoughts down before the game came out haha and the recent showcase kind of cemented some of my thoughts which stimulated me to do it

oh before i end i just remembered something i forgot that i thought about. i wonder why lucrecia's excluded from the mural tablet thing in HQ and from the "psychic six" but not from camp via the stumps?? interesting.

[survey--s]

31.

As you begin this survey, what is the current date and time?: It’s December 17th, 2021 - and it’s currently 5.38pm.

How many blue-eyed people have you kissed?: Hmm, not many, maybe 3-4?

Do you have a friend named Holly?: Not anymore, but I did go to school with a girl named Holly.

Name the last 3 books you read.: The Night Circus - Erin Morgenstern. Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman. Gray Mountain - John Grisham.

When was the last time you saw someone attractive?: I saw my husband around an hour ago when he left to go fishing.

Who was the last person you got into an argument with?: I honestly don’t remember the last time I had a proper argument.

Think back to this time last year; who did you have feelings for?: Mike, the same as now.

Be honest. On a scale of 1 to 10, how nice of a person are you?: I’m going to go with maybe a six or seven.

Are you wearing anything that has any kind of pattern on it?: Yeah, my sweater has beagles all over it.

Name all of the websites you have visited so far today.: Google, Reddit, Tumblr, Facebook, Mumsnet and my e-mail apps.

What are your parents’ middle names?: I’m not going to put those on here.

Who was the last curly-haired person you talked to?: My mum via FaceTime and Mike in real life.

Does frequent use of swearwords offend or upset you?: Not in the slightest, no.

Do you have romantic feelings for the last person you text messaged?: Nope.

Who was the last person you talked to, whose name started with ’S’?: Susie.

When was the last time you met someone who seemed very unpleasant?: A man I met today on a walk - I was with Sparky who is on lead as he’s reactive to strange dogs - he’s a tiny little terrier and this man let his mastiff and German Shepherd come charging over, so I asked him to call his dogs as mine isn’t friendly - he just ignored me and gave me a filthy look, lol. Moron.

Name everyone you’ve had an online conversation with today.: Just my mum, I think. Oh, and Ian and Ruth.

When/where did you meet your first love?: Online, actually.

How many people have you kissed, whose name started with ‘J’?: Three, I think. Jimmi, Joshua and Jack.

When was the last time you turned down an invitation to go somewhere? Why?: I can’t remember the last time I turned down an invitation.

Who was the last person to cry in front of you?: I have no idea. Probably Mark on the day Blue went over rainbow bridge.

Do you know why they were crying?: Because he was just about to take his beloved dog to be put to sleep.

If you’ve had a bad day, who is most likely to cheer you up?: The dog, for sure, or the cats.

How many Facebook friends do you have?: 128.

Is there anyone on your “friends” list that you dislike?: No. I’m really fussy about who I keep on my Facebook, though.

Is there anyone you dislike, that you have to see/speak to regularly?: Nope - that’s one of the main advantages of being self-employed, lol.

Does anyone have a romantic interest in you, that you don’t return?: Not so far as I know!

When was the last time you ate a cookie?: I actually don’t remember.

Has either of your parents ever borrowed your computer?: In the past when I lived at home, sure.

If someone makes a lot of spelling mistakes, does it annoy you?: No, not at all.

Are you living with anyone that isn’t related to you?: No.

Do you prefer drinks in bottles or cans?: Glass bottles > cans > plastic bottles.

How many people would you say you’ve been “in love” with?: Three.

Which one of your relatives are you most likely to argue/disagree with?: My dad, lol. We could argue over a piece of paper.

Have your parents met the person you’re currently interested in?: Well, yes. They attended our wedding, lol.

When you’re interested in someone, do you let them know?: I’ve always let them know in the past, yeah.

Or do you prefer to wait and see if they’ll come to you first?: No.

Do you know a Robert? Tell me about him.: I went to school with a boy called Robert. He had a crush on me and also had a birthmark on his forehead.

Who was your first major crush?:  Jimmi.

Do you still talk to that person?: Occasionally. We’re friends on Facebook. He just got a new puppy with his fiancée and we tend to like each others’ dog pics, haha.

Are you happy with the way things are going?: Definitely, life is GOOD right now.

If not, what would you like to change?: I mean, I’m happy but I obviously wish we weren’t dealing with this whole COVID thing.

Name a food that starts with the same letter as your best friend’s name.: I don’t have a best friend.

Were you well-behaved as a child?: I was, yes. I hated getting told off or getting in trouble.

What is/was your worst subject in school?: Maths and Chemistry.

Is that because you’re not good at it, or because it doesn’t interest you?: It just didn’t interest me so I never paid any attention.

Is there anything happening tomorrow, that you’re looking forward to?: Yes! Firstly, I get a lie in as it’s the first day of my Christmas break, and secondly, BEACH RIDE.

Have you ever kissed anyone named Daniel or Danielle?: No, neither.

Are you embarrassed to talk to your parents about sex?: I wouldn’t say I was embarrassed, but why would I want to do that?

Is there anything you need to do, that you’re trying to avoid doing?: Nah, I’ve done loads today actually. I worked 8.30-1.30pm, came home, cleaned out my car completely, vacuumed downstairs, washed up, showered, did two loads of laundry and now I’m just enjoying doing nothing, lol.

[m1smatched-starsigns]

If you wouldn’t mind making the post about your WIPs that’d be great!

I have about twenty WIPs, no exaggeration. So I'll just focus on the WIPs that I'm actively working on and actually have a chance to see the light of day in 2021! 

 The Hollyleaf Lives AU is the WIP I currently work the most on, so I'll start here. The working title is Peace (same as the Holly/Mouse one-shot I posted in December) but that will definitely change. I'm doing something different here with outlining so while I don't have X number of chapters outlined, I do have six pages of straight up rambling; three of those pages are a rough timeline of main events that I'm sort of going by, but it's far from complete. I have five prewritten chapters but they're far from publishable; I haven't gone back and retouched any of them. Because I haven't completed my working timeline I'm going to have to go back and add/delete scenes, and do a lot of editing in general. It's hard to give this WIP an ETA because it's going to require so much editing and prewritten chapters, but if I keep writing like I have been, then I don't see why it wouldn't be published sometime in the next six months. 

 When I'm not working on Peace I'm usually working on Only in Dreams, which is a Windflight/Poppyfrost backstory. I'm using my old writing process with this fic so it's going to require a lot less heavy editing. I have five completed chapters that shouldn't need any retouching ("shouldn't"); I have the ending of chapter six completed but still need to write the beginning/middle; and I have chapter eight (yep, I skipped seven because it's going to lean heavily on eight) mostly written. Chapter eight is already 7K words and it still needs a complete ending and potentially another scene added, so I think I'm going to end up splitting it into two parts. Again, I have less of a chapter outline here and more of a timeline, although that timeline is actually complete so I would estimate this story will be between 24-29 chapters. This fic is very near to my heart because it's inspired by a lot of my personal life, so I'm taking my time with it, making sure that it's something I'll always be proud of. So as for the ETA... it could swap places with Peace, just depending on which story I feel motivated to work on. It changes every week.

I mentioned writing a murder mystery AU literally today, so it's too soon to say whether or not I'll take it seriously. I have a habit of digging through Warriors Wikia trying to scrape together a cast (the fun part), and then loosing interest once that is finished and the writing begins (the hard part). No prewritten chapters or timelines or ETAs here! Just a plot that's based off of an old TV show and a fun premise. We'll see where it leads. 

 The last unpublished WIP that might see the light of day in 2021 in Shades of Gray (working title, pretty generic). It picks up immediately after Oakheart asks Graypool to nurse Mistykit and Stonekit, and is essentially a Graypool character study as her relationship with Rippleclaw crumbles; she raises her adopted kits while struggling with feeling like she's replaced her dead kits; sheds light on her relationship with her father, Reedfeather; and her budding romance with Oakheart. I do have the first two chapters prewritten and I estimate that the fic won't be longer than 12 chapters, but the length is the only reason I think it might be published this year. It's one of those WIPs that whenever I remember it, I get really excited and want to write, but it's usually overshadowed by Peace/OiD. ETA on this one is simply 2021. 

 Now, my two seemingly abandoned fics...

If you're here because you're a fan of The Impossible Life of a SkyClan Warrior, then I apologize because I've really put you through the ringer! Believe it or not I actually went into the first draft of this story with a complete chapter outline/timeline! But that version was published five years ago. The story has evolved as I have evolved as a writer, and when I looked back on the chapters I already published, they felt flat. At this point I believe I've revised the published chapters... three times? My mistake is that I did not start from scratch after the first time. Now I'm completely rewriting it instead of simply editing what I already have. Most of the plotlines will remain the same (the big plot changes don't occur until later in the story anyhow, although I will be adjusting Rockshade and Honeyflower's relationship), but the pacing and the setup is all different. I'm still rewriting the first chapter (to be fair, it's much longer now) and working on the new timeline/chapter outline (which won't require a ton of retouching, thankfully). The ETA for this one? Sometime in 2021. I don't have much written now, but I randomly get the urge to revisit it and when I do I will write ten pages in a single day. I usually get that urge whenever I start answering asks about it, so maybe soon? :) I do think it will be posted before Peace/OiD. 

Written in the Stars... is a tough one. If you compare its stats to Dawn Frost and TIL then it's not anybody's favorite, but I get the most (very passionate) DMs about it?? I would almost call it a cult classic. Unfortunately for those (very passionate) readers, I tend to focus on the fic that gives me the most reader interaction because reviews are my favorite thing in the world. So when I get twenty DMs begging me to update and then only two reviews on Chapter 12 (I am not exaggerating), I become discouraged. Especially because this is not an easy fic to write. Romance/Humor/Slice-of-Life is decidedly my niche and this fic is the opposite of all of that. It challenges me as a writer which is always a great thing, but the payoff feels very little. This mindset is my fault because I used to prioritize reviews above all else, but old habits die hard. By no means am I complaining about the reviews that I do have (when I first started posting I never thought I would surpass 100 reviews!!), but I want to put my energy into fics that people want to read. Written in the Stars isn't going anywhere, but I can't give you an update ETA. 

 And that's about it! I have more one-shots coming this year of course, but I don't know which ones will be posted, or when. If you read this entire post then I hope you won't be disappointed by what you see from me in 2021 :)

[zwiezraczek]

Do you take requests? If so could you write a fic of four x reader from fours point of view instead or readers? Maybe she just joined the team and it’s about first impressions. Maybe first impressions could also be the name of it? Idk idk I’m just trying to think here sorry!! 💙💙💙

First impressions [Request]

Note: I'm SO SO SO sorry for making you wait for so long for this! I was really like in a bad mood for a longer moment and... Well, not the time and place to ramble haha ^^" Don't be sorry for proposing things, it's always good! I like hearing ideas about blurbs/requests it's always interesting! And I think the title is quite nice actually! ^^ I hope you'll like it 💙 Nonnie! 💕💕💕

PS: Guilty of being listening to 1D... Guilty

 ~~~

You entered the room, and immediately you caught his attention. You absolutely weren't what he had expected when One had talked to all of them about a new member in their Ghosts Squad, moreover a nerdy one. He always had imagined nerdy girls to be clumsy, absolutely shy and quirky but you didn't match this description, at least not in his eyes.

First, when he saw you, you gave him the impression of being Eliott from Mr Robot. Nothing too charming in fact, as you had your brown bag across your shoulder which seemed heavy, and probably carried some informatics material, your gray hoodie hid your hair, and when you finally took it off Four could see you properly, and Five had to elbow him in order to not stay there like a moron, mouth agape as he looked at you being introduced by One.

“This is Eight,” One said while gesturing towards you still standing in the door frame. “She's our informatics genius, now Three you're free to be the hitman on your own again,” he joked as you put your bag on the floor and Three made a victorious expression.

“Nice to meet you all,” you casually said and Four had to shake his head before waving at you.

“I'm Four, parkour expert,” he said with a little smirk and you waved back at him.

“Four's the less shy of them all,” One said to you as you made your way to sit on the table in front of them.

“I'm not shy, I'm just patient,” Seven argued as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Here you have Seven our sniper, Three the hitman, Two our lovely mole, Five our doctor and... Me, the One and only. And that's all I guess, we're all here.”

“... And Six,” you asked, a bit perplex.

“He's gone,” Four replied, a bit bitterly.

When he first talked about it to an unknown person, Seven, he felt casually detached from it. Six was a number, nobody else, no more, he was just a casualty in the war they had. But the more he told Seven about Six, the more he felt the pain of losing him, especially now when they had no big mission to fill the void in his mind and heart. But he never told anyone, besides Seven and Five – Five insisted, and Five told him that as a doctor she was obliged to help him mentally, and as a friend she wanted him to fell the best he could. He tried to cope, but coping with death wasn't as easy as he thought it would be.

“Oh, sorry,” you said quietly with a sad expression, “I didn't mean to...”

“It's alright, we're good,” Four quickly said, with a smile on his face, hiding the remains of pain in his heart. “So, you're the genius One keeps bragging about? Can't wait to see you inaction.”

And indeed, he couldn't wait.

~~~

“Four, can I come in,” you asked as you knocked on his trailer door.

He looked at you, and nodded before you entered his trailer and sat on his couch. This was right after your first mission together, and as you stayed in the van protected by Three the driver, Four was navigating through the place with your help in his ear. This was the most thrilling mission he had after a long moment. He felt like a true ninja, knowing where to go or not, where the bad guys were and how he had to avoid them. All of that, thanks to you.

“What a mission,” you finally said after looking at him with a bright smile.

“The greatest since ages,” he commented while looking at you. The greatest thanks to you, he thought.

“That was just insane, how I managed to break in and how I made you walk through these places... I felt like in a video game, except my character had will and was actually alive.”

“Wow, never thought I would be compared to a game character, I'll remember that,” he said jokingly and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh come on, I didn't mean that... You're so touchy I swear to god,” you complained as you crossed your legs and he laughed everything off. “But seriously, I was quite impressed by your abilities! Like, holly shit, I knew that you are a parkour expert, but I didn't expect... That!”

“That,” he repeated, arching an eyebrow. He couldn't tell if what you said was positive or negative, and it bugged him a lot.

“Don't make me compliment you more than I already did,” you warned him and he felt relieved. His shoulders were less tense, and his smile widened. He could have swore that you blushed, but he might have imagined it all as well.

“So... What did you wanted exactly?” he dared to ask and you immediately seemed fidgety.

“Well... I... Just wanted to hang out? Like you, know, in a friendly way? It was my first mission and I'm high on adrenaline right now, and holly shit I just wanted to babble about this with somebody because that was insane! Two was insane, what Three did with that car? Insane. Five's cold blood? Godamnit, she's a badass. And Seven? Wow. Not to mention you again, like that was perfection perfectly executed!”

“Perfection,” he repeated and now you blushed, definitely, he was sure of that.

“... Like in Perfect, the song, you know,” you seemed to try to make your way out of this by some obscure reference, at least it seemed an obscure reference to him, but he couldn't think too much about it before you continued. “So, I was saying, that this mission was actually batshit! Can you imagine...”

Yes he absolutely and definitely could. And now, he had to find the Perfect song.

~~~

He knew that what he was doing was dumb, but he wanted to try. He knew that putting this note in front of your trailer might have been an error – especially if someone had noticed it and would come instead of you – but he wanted to try. Because you told him that you always wanted a little secret rendez-vous with someone, at least it was what he got from the song. That was pretty smart and smooth, and he hoped that he had guessed it right. He knew that he probably wasn't perfect, but at least he wanted to try to be the best he could.

He put all his efforts into preparing this picnic, with Seven's help, at night with candlelight right under the stars. And as he was sitting on the blanket, he heard footsteps in the colddesert night and he turned around. And you stood there, wearing that same sweatshirt he first saw you in, trying to heat yourself up with your hand rubbing your arms as you smiled at him.

“So you're trying to freeze me,” you asked with a little smirk as you sat next to him.

“Oh come on, Eight,” he whispered jokingly as he put a blanket over your shoulders, “I would never.”

“What a liar,” you stated as you wrapped yourself in the said blanket. “So, whose death are we celebrating?”

“You think so poorly of me,” he said, faking a disappointment and offense. “Can not a Four invite an Eight to a secret little rendez-vous?”

“So this is what it is,” you said teasingly as you looked at him.

He had guessed the song well. He blushed. He could feel his cheeks burning. Seven had warned him, but he had refused to listen to him, although he knew you were cheeky and playful. He tried to collect himself, unsuccessfully. But you were probably quicker than he would have been, wrapping one arm around him with the blanket. He was already feeling hot, but now he was just burning under that blanket and being touched by you.

“I can't let my date die from the cold then,” you said with a little smirk before you put your head on his shoulder and immediately his heart began to race. “So, what have you planned for our little getaway? Music? Vine? Stargazing? I love stargazing,” you said excited.

“Will stargazing and beer be enough,” he asked, daring to put his arm around you under that blanket. In the darkness, everything seemed easier, especially while he saw your eyes glowing as you looked up at him, taking your head away from his shoulder.

“I'm absolutely all for this.”

He froze for a moment, detailing your glistening eyes in the moonlight, under the sky full of stars. You smiled, you had the most radiant smile he had seen in ages and he knew. He knew that he wanted to taste these pink tinted lips of yours, the he wanted to run his fingers through your hair. He knew it all.

“Oh please, kiss me already,” you said after him looking at you for that long.

And he didn't know what had happened at that very moment, but he dared. And he kissed you, he tasted your pretty lips. And he felt heaven, under the stars. Because his first impression was the right one: you were the one.

[bloody-wonder]

mid-year book freak out tag

no one tagged me, i just wanted to to this haha the questions are taken from here and i know it’s past mid-year already but idc

1. Best Book You've Read So Far in 2020? So far i gave 5 stars to two books only: one is Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption by Stephen King and the other one is Gillian Flynn’s short story The Grownup. I still haven’t read anything this year that would transfer me to another plane of existence like The Secret History and All For The Game did last year.

2. Best Sequel You've Read So Far in 2020? That’s definitely The Wicked King by Holly Black.

3. New Release You Haven't Read Yet, But Want To? Loveless by Alice Oseman. As soon as I finish what I’m reading now I’ll take that sweet aroace rep and gobble it up.

4. Most Anticipated Release For Second Half of 2020? The Nobleman's Guide to Scandal and Shipwrecks by Mackenzi Lee. Also I’ve just found out that another The Folk of the Air novella is getting released in November and as far as I understand it’ll be about small Cardan, and usually I don’t care for prequels but... small. Cardan. with a small tail. alright next question

5. Biggest Disappointment? Almost all fantasy books I’ve read this year were disappointments: Six of Crows, The Raven Cycle, Vicious, The Blade Itself and Wolfsong frustrated me especially. Maybe it’s because all the hype that surrounds them gave me unrealistic expectations or maybe I just have to admit that fantasy is not my genre and give up trying to read it.

6. Biggest Surprise? I guess it’s Seven Ways We Lie by Riley Redgate. I read this chiefly for aroace rep but it turned out to be such an interesing book I just binged it in six hours on a sunday afternoon. I think it deserves more attention, so if you like high school drama definitely check it out.

7. Favourite New Author? That would be CS Pacat. I read Captive Prince last year and loved it and in May I finally found her Fence comic on Scribd during that delicious free month. I remember I once said that if slow burn were a violin, Pacat would be Paganini, and I do stand by that after reading Fence. Can’t wait for her Dark Rise novels, maybe she’ll make me love ya fantasy after all.

8. Newest Fictional Crush? I’m afraid it’s still those murder lacrosse junkies who keep me up at night. 

9. Newest Favourite Character? Complex characters are the most important thing in a book for me, so naturally all the books I liked this year have good characters. But I will admit one thing: if Adam Parrish were in a better book, he’d give them all a run for their money.

10. Book That Made You Cry? The beginning of Fangirl made me cry like a lil bitch. Also that time Adam goes through Ronan’s house and compares his childhood with his own. Also Radio Silence made me cry several times. A Little Life that I’m reading now will definitely make me cry until my eyes hurt. What book didn’t make me cry would be a more realistic question.

11. Book That Made You Happy? *zuko voice* I’m never happy. The book series that made me laugh out loud several times though is A Charm of Magpies by KJ Charles.

12. Favourite Book To Movie Adaptation You Saw This Year? I guess I’ve only seen one this year and it’s Picnic at Hanging Rock. It looked very good and was definitely more bearable than the book.

13. Favourite Review You've Written This Year? I don’t write reviews but I guess a giant rant about The Raven Cycle that I had in our chat with Sarah while we were buddy reading it must count.

14. Most Beautiful Book You Bought So Far This Year? I wish I had money to buy physical books haha.

15. What Books Do You Need To Read By The End of The Year? Basically everything on my extensive TBR, but especially Circe by Madeline Miller, Loveless by Alice Oseman and A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara.

I tag @minyardx @icanheareternity @mrs-storm-andrews @sir-see @figuringthengsout @writingpuddle @im-booksmart @manic-andrew @nneiljostenn @foxsoulcourt @moonsandstarsaregay

if you guys want to indulge my need to talk about books :)

[rimmers-swimming-certificate]

The Red Dwarf 30-Day Challenge!

Day 18 - Favourite Series 7 episode

I’m going to do something unexpected here and not go for Blue.

I’ll admit, series seven if not my favourite, I think it suffered greatly from losing Chris Barrie for most of the series, and I just don’t think Kochanski was good enough as a replacement for Rimmer. Having said that though, I do enjoy most of it, just not as much as I enjoy some of the other seasons. (This is going to be an issue for series eight too, unfortunately, but moreso)

Having said that I’m actually going to go for an episode that doesn’t have Rimmer in it, because I’ve always enjoyed the two-parter that is Epideme and Nanarchy. It’s cheating to choose two episodes though, so I’m going to go with Nanarchy.

It’s just one of the ones that’s always stuck in my head, for some reason. I don’t know if it was deliberate to have Lister lose the arm that his future echo was missing way back in series one, probably not, but it still made me feel like it was referring back to the early series and I liked that.

I dunno though, I think the main reason I like this one is that of all the things that have happened to the Red Dwarf crew over the years, this is one of the only ones that’s real. It’s not being dead, or being stranded three million years from home, it’s not traveling to a parallel universe and meeting your female equivalent, or encountering another version of yourself who is everything you ever wanted to be. It’s not an emotion slurping alien, or a machine that can turn a mechanoid into a human and back again (or a man into a chicken). It’s not a time travelling droid intent on wiping people from history, or a squid who can make you think you’re Duane Dibbley or the leader of some fascist totalitarian state.

This Lister having to deal with something that can and does actually happen to real people, and although it’s completely possible to relate back a lot of the things that happens in Red Dwarf to equivalent things in real life, something so actually real and human is rare, and I think that’s what I like about this episode. The way everyone reacts feels real; how terribly they handle it. Kryten in particular is terrible with his biscuit dunking and his twenty four hour wipe alert and basically treating Lister like he’s a baby and reinforcing the feelings of helplessness. Cat is... well, he’s Cat. He tries to help and much like Kryten ends up doing the opposite. Kochanski’s actually the best of a bad lot really

I also love that scene with the terrible prosthetic arm Kryten fits Lister with, the one that would either need him to take a morning off in order to pick up a ball, or that, fuelled by Lister’s subconscious anger, would punch Kryten in the head, with absolutely no middle ground there at all. I also like, though it’s only a little thing, the casual mention of Rimmer in that scene. It’s nice that even in the episodes he’s not in and that don’t focus on him not being there, he’s still on Lister’s mind (even if he is just insulting him!)

I do think it’s a shame it was resolved so quickly though. I’m rarely a fan of the miracle cure for a disability that you often get in science fiction, not that I’d have wanted Lister to stay armless for the next twenty years or so, I just wish this had happened a little earlier in the series and there could have been one episode in between where Lister’s missing an arm and just kinda... getting on with it, you know? So that it’s secondary to the actual story. A few minor references to it, maybe him not being able to do something and someone else helping him out without making a big thing of it, and then they could find the nanos. Not that that would ever happen I know, it’s not that kind of a show.

I also wish it could have happened when Rimmer was there, because I’d have loved to have seen that conversation. I stuck a version of it in a fic I wrote, but after the fact, Rimmer telling Lister to stop complaining. he’s still got one arm that works fine, while Rimmer didn’t have any arms at all for six years.

I also like that Holly comes back in this one. I missed him!

Anyway, that got long. I only meant to write a paragraph or so.

[alarriefantasy]

                                 Halloween Fic Rec 2019

Demon

Trade Mistakes by ifancylou, Taayjaay

Words: 3k

Harry summons a crossroads demon without realizing that he'd be giving up his soul in exchange for the deal. He offers the demon something a little different instead.

Demons by CarlyLovesLarry

Words: 4k

or where Harry is a demon and Louis is a hunter, and Harry fuck Louis into oblivion  

Sealed With A Kiss by ty_madison

Words: 6k

Harry has been having dreams about a boy, every night since he turned sixteen and everytime he has opened his eyes in the past the boy has disappeared. But now he is awake, the boy is here and he has a deal to make with the innocent Harry.

Paper Planes by cathedralhearts

Words: 7k

Louis sold his soul to the Devil when he was sixteen, tear-stained and miserable, grief wracking his body as the doctors told him his mother had days to live. Lucifer prefers to go by the name Harry, wears Louis’ soul around his neck as a pendant, and spends the next five years following him around.

Shadow Holding Me Hostage by scribblewrite

Words: 26k

Harry's a demon, basically the king of hell and the source of all evil, and he needs an heir. Louis's a normal human, unsuspecting of what's in store for him.

The Devil's Angel by lilacsweaters_ivorylilies

Words: 86k

Ezekiel 28:13 - For Lucifer has been in Eden the garden of God; every precious stone was his covering, the sardius, topaz, and the diamond, the beryl, the onyx, and the jasper, the sapphire, the emerald, and the carbuncle, and gold: the workmanship of his tabrets and of his pipes was prepared in him in the day that he was created. 

Fantasy/Supernatural

got me losing every breath (i'm latching onto you) by kissingiscool

Words: 14k

(or an au where louis is a fairy with a fear of thunderstorms and a talent of knitting and harry is a vet with three cats and a lot of love.)

A Love So True You Don't Have To Be Afraid by homosociallyyours

Words: 14k

In a world long ago but not so far away, where true love is valued above all else, Louis and Harry have already found one another. Their lives are shaken by the arrival of Simon, whose heart is more than a bit shit, and who longs to sow unhappiness.

When Louis is changed into a dragon and Harry is the knight meant to vanquish him, it would appear that Simon has succeeded. But love wins, every time.

Waiting For Someone Who Needs Me by graceling_in_a_suit

Words: 17k

AU: Harry is a genie, and Louis doesn't think he needs anything.

The Prince Of Light by jacaranda_bloom

Words: 35k

Louis was found abandoned at a hospital at six months old and adopted by an older couple who raised him. Now twenty, he studies by night and by day works as a live-in au pair for a family with three little girls. One of the girls, Holly, swears there is a Garden Fairy coming and eating treats she leaves out in the cubby house each night.

When the family goes away for a two week holiday, Louis is secretly tasked with feeding the Fairy. While laying out the food one night he falls from the cubby house and is found by Harry. Harry is different and Louis is fascinated. But as Louis learns how different Harry really is, he discovers his own true home and a very surprising past he never knew.

Cue badgers, bananas and cookies, soulmates, a whole other world, and a future he’d never imagined.

like cabbages and kings by you_explode

Words: 60k

When Louis was a kid, he had a series of very vivid dreams about a place called Wonderland. There were rabbits wearing waistcoats and talking cats and ridiculous tea parties, and amidst all the absurdity, there was a boy. A boy with dimples, big green eyes and the sweetest soul Louis has ever known. Louis has always kept a place in his heart for that boy and for his funny dreamworld, and when he’s twenty-five and his life falls apart, it turns out Wonderland might not be so imaginary after all.

there's no fair in farewell by we_are_the_same

Words: 218k

When Harry and Louis, two Cupids who have been bringing people together for decades, are tasked with making Soulmates Liam and Zayn fall in love, it proves to be much harder than expected. But maybe, just maybe, that isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Ghost

The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson by HelloAmHere

Words: 31k

OR: Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

Close to Nowhere by angelichl

Words: 34k

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

you look so good in blue by patdkitten

Words: 20k

Or: Harry Styles hears about a perfect flat from his roommate Zayn's boyfriends and decides to sign the lease. The only problem is: the flat has a reputation for being haunted. It certainly doesn't help that Harry's cat is seeing things as soon as they move in...

The Case Of The (Definitely Not Haunted) Styles Mansion by BriaMaria

Words: 40k

Or the Nancy Drew AU where Marcel is a man of logic, Louis is a private detective who believes in ghosts, and the Styles Mansion is definitely, absolutely, positively *not* haunted.

Tied to Fate by littlelouishiccups

Words: 52k

After his estranged father’s death, Harry inherits a castle in England that has belonged to his family for generations and he knows nothing about. When he breaks up with his boyfriend, Harry decides England is the perfect place for a small vacation. He isn’t prepared to meet Louis Tomlinson, a ghost who once lived in the castle and has haunted it for over five hundred years. He’s even more unprepared to fall in love with him.

Through Eerie Chaos by MediaWhore

Words: 102k

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process

Halloween Themed

Trick-or-Treat (Cheer Up) by writingstylinson 

Words: 2k

Louis Tomlinson is the single father of a little girl named Finnley, and they’ve been living in Holmes Chapel for a year. This Halloween is the first one they will be celebrating without Louis’ younger siblings or his own mother. It’s because of this that his daughter, who is usually outgoing and fearless, starts to have some worries about going trick-or-treating alone with her father.

Then Louis comes up with the perfect solution.

This is Halloween, everybody make a scene by allwaswell16

Words: 2k

When Louis takes his son trick-or-treating in a stormtrooper costume, little does he know by the end of the night he will end up gaining a Luke Skywalker, a Chewbacca, and a Rey. He doesn't mind the additions, and if Rey's very hot dad wants to come along as well, he doesn't mind that too much either.

this kitten's got your tongue tied in knots by ballsdeepinjesus

Words: 3k

[it's halloween, harry is a kitten in a tree and louis is a (fake) firefighter.]

A gold and green Halloween by Tita

Words: 8k

Harry and Louis are strangers who, dressed as Drarry, compete on a Halloween couple's costume contest. It's exactly as much of a mess as it sounds.

Black Cats Steal Hearts, Not Souls by SLD24

Words: 9k

Harry finds a kitten in a pumpkin patch the day before Halloween but it turns out not to be a kitten at all.

Horror

All The Songs That You Sing In The Dark by pukeandcry

Words: 10k

What happened was that first people got sick.

What happened after that was that they died.

But the worst thing was what happened after that. After they died, they came back.

The Skeleton Key by photo41

Words: 18k

Harry Styles, a good-natured nurse living in Manchester, quits his job at a hospice to work for Violet Winston, an elderly woman whose husband, Ben, is in poor health following a stroke.

When Harry begins to explore the couple's rundown mansion, he discovers strange artifacts and learns the house has a mysterious past. As he continues to investigate, he realizes that Violet is keeping a sinister secret about the cause of Ben's illness- and tries to convince the Winston's estate lawyer, Louis Tomlinson, that he really isn't going insane.

Loosely based off the movie of the same name.

Insane by prideinlou

Words: 20k

Or in which Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are two dim-witted, drunk teenage boys that take a Halloween night dare too far, and end up in a life or death situation in the clutches of a haunted mental asylum.

Will they make it out alive... or will they go insane?

Mermaid

seaside improvisation by tinyweirdloves

Words: 6k

[harry is a mermaid who has lost his tail and he lives in louis's bathtub for a month.]

at least as deep as the pacific ocean (i wanna be yours) by writtensoul 

Words: 9k

louis is the very entitled prince of the seven seas!! harry is a goofy sailor boy!!! a lot of hijinks ensue involving slippery mermaid tails and happy fun little sea creatures!!

Define Dancing by asphodelknox 

Words: 20k

Death has a way of making certain things crystal clear. After Jay’s death, Louis returns to the summer cottage he always considered home. Unbeknownst to him, he’s also returning to the merman who has been his best friend through everything and finds that maybe there’s a chance for more.

Don't Let the Tide Come and Take Me by kiwikero

Words: 28k

Or, the one where Louis decides to set a merman free and ends up finding his own freedom along the way.

Still Deep In Us by graceling_in_a_suit

Words: 41k

AU. The village Harry has called home his entire life sits on six shaky legs, held aloft from the ocean which claimed the entire world twenty years ago. Harry's just a grieving tinkerer trying to do his best, and Louis is a mermaid that ruins The Village's delicate balance of power (and perhaps, just maybe, wins the heart of a boy).

Pirates

Captain Harry Styles... And The Faerie by spaceboyharry

Words: 8k

“You have today been defeated. Remember this forever as the day you were bested by Captain Harry Styles.” Louis zoomed past, shouting “AND THE FAERIE!” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “And the bloody faerie.”

must be something in the water by hattalove

Words: 3k

They all remember, somewhere deep down, why they gave up everything they had for the Mermaid.

The last vestiges of kindness and bravery and everything that is good in the world are on board that ship. Louis’s heart is on it, moored by some nameless jetty.

In Your Black Heart (Is Where You'll Find Me) by graceling_in_a_suit

Words: 35k

Louis Tomlinson has been lying for five years. His crew sees him as a pirate, a Captain, and an alpha; only two of those are the truth. He was content to let the illusion go on forever, but an omega named Harry Styles just had to join his crew and get his warm-vanilla stink all over Louis' best laid plans.Or: the story of The Captain and The Carpenter.

Si Pudiera Volar by messofgorgeouschaos

Words: 68k

When Harry’s fiancé leaves him for his cousin, he looks the other way for the sake of his happiness. He’ll do anything to forget about him, including joining a monastery. It isn’t until his cousin’s former lover, a pirate, appears that he realizes everything is not as it appears, and an honest pirate might be the only person worthy of his heart.

Or, a fic loosely based on Corazon Salvaje.

Vampire

Call Me the End of Your World by captainsftlouis

Words: 3k

or, the vampire AU where Louis is addicted to vampire venom, and Harry is addicted to Louis.

Waiting On You: A Christmas Drabble by emma1234

Words: 5k

On their first Christmas Eve as a couple, Louis and Harry decide it would be a great idea to exchange one special gift with one another to mark a new tradition. Of course, things never go as smoothly as they planned.

I Wanna Do Bad Things With You by lesbianphrodite

Words: 7k

Harry goes to his favorite pub with the intention to drink and feel bad for himself after a terrible break-up. Instead, he ends up hitting it off with a handsome vampire.

Forever And Always by jacaranda_bloom 

Words: 25k

OR the one where Harry’s neighbour is a crotchety old witch who hates vampires, Niall is the unsuspecting human who ends up inhabiting Harry’s body, and Louis is the caseworker who is assigned to swap them back. How it ends up a love story is anyone’s guess.

we should open up (before it's all too much) by disgruntledkittenface

Words: 43k

Struggling with grieving and depression since his dad died, Harry has never felt so alone. It’s too much to cope with on his own, but he feels like a burden when he tries to open up with people.

Then he meets Louis.

For You I'd Bleed Myself Dry by amomentoflove

Words: 49k

Harry is cold. His bones ache. Every movement draws a whimper from his cracked lips. The stone underneath him is practically like ice. He’s numb, but can clearly feel the sharp pains on his neck every timeHe visits him. Below the icy cold, the achy bones, and the pain on his neck, Harry Styles is pissed. There’s a fire burning in his mind and the anger for the man who keeps him imprisoned is the fuel. He despises him, the man who feeds from him and is a daily reminder that Harry’s suffering won’t end. The man who keeps Harry so weak that he can barely move most days. Harry’s waiting for the day when his owner will go too far and finally kill him. Death must be better than this cold hell he is in.

It won’t happen, though. He has a way of keeping Harry’s heart beating. So for now, all Harry can do is wait for death to come.

He’s been waiting for years.

Witches

what's inside your imagination (is as real as anything else) by suspendrs

Words: 3k

Or, Harry's a witch who likes to pretend he's a human pretending he's a witch, and Louis's the human in a not-so-clever costume that keeps catching his eye.

A Kind Of Magic by mellagreens

Words: 12k

Louis feels the urge to tell Harry he's in love with him.

Spellbound by lovelarry10

Words: 22k

Louis’ a shifter. Harry’s a witch. The only problem is, they’re hiding those things from each other.Will they be able to keep their secrets hidden at the most spooky time of year?

Call It True by abrighteryellow

Words: 48k

With dreams of being a successful novelist, Harry’s been working so hard that he almost doesn’t notice the smoothie shop that just opened down the street. But he can’t miss the mysterious, irresistible boy who works there, nor the strange but entirely positive effect his drinks seem to have. Harry needs to know what’s going on and he wants to get close to Louis, though not necessarily in that order.

A Spell and A Spark by dinosaursmate

Words: 73k

Louis is a teenage witch, living and attending university among mortals. He has to keep his secret whilst studying on both his degree and his witch's licence. His friends don't suspect a thing, even as spell after spell goes awry.

Our Place By The Moon by PearlyDewdrops

Words: 108k/WIP

Or: a late 90's urban fantasy AU in which Louis wants to befriend the strange boy next door, Harry is just trying to keep his family together, and falling in love is most inconvenient for a witch that may have accidentally reignited a centuries old curseꟷone that kinda messes with that.

[andyridgeley]

Book recommendations:

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

You Should See Me In a Crown by Leah Johnson

Don’t Date Rosa Santos by Nina Moreno

Home Before Dark by Riley Sager

A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder by Holly Jackson

Anything by Elizabeth Acevedo

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E Schwab

The Falling in Love Montage by Ciara Smyth

Happy reading :)

ahhh thank you so much!!!!! 

-now i’ve been recommended this twice i’ll have to look into it! i won’t get it right now because it’s still pretty new and i’m looking at used books but i’ll make sure to add this to the list! 

-Daisy Jones and the Six sounds REALLY GOOD i’ll have to add that to the list too!

-Little Fires Everywhere i’ll have to get i’ve been meaning to read this one for awhile!

-You Should See Me In a Crown i think i’ve heard of this one! i’ll have to wait on it like the others though

-Don’t Date Rosa Santos not sure if i’ll like this one but i’ll add it to my list too maybe one day!

-Home Before Dark, this one sounds good i’ll have to wait on it!

-A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder this one sounds good too but i’ll have to wait on it! 

-Anything, i’m not seeing anything on this one but I am seeing acevedo’s other works and they look good!

-The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue - I wanna like this one but knowing me i’m not GREAT with period works I don’t know why like I can read classics AND YET! but i’ll look into it more! 

-The Falling in Love Montage - this one sounds good too but i’ll have to wait on it!

send me book recs!!

[killinbills]

╰⊱♥⊱╮ the killinbills guide to planning a fic!! (part two)

Normally I don’t make these sort of things, but I get a lot of asks about how I plan my fics so I thought it would be easier to do a tutorial like this. This works for me, but it won’t work for everyone. I think the thing with planning fics/stories, in general, is that everyone will have their own way of doing it, and it really depends on you as a person. But,,, it might help if you maybe take some of the steps that I do, so here is what I do.

(If you don’t know me, hi! I’m Lucy aka bioodflood on wattpad, and in the almost six years I’ve been on there, I’ve completed six Harry Potter oc fanfics... A few more including the ones that have been taken down, including a couple Teen Wolf ones and one for The Flash, but yeah, I’ve written and planned a lot.)

So, in this, I’m gonna talk about:

Titles (including chapter titles)

Dialogue

Staying motivated

Fanfic specific, including changing canon plot effectively and although they’ll apply mostly to HP, they can be changed to suit whatever fandom you are writing for!!

also How I use Pinterest

and More on chapter summaries

In part one I talked about:

Characters

Plotting

Twists (both big ones then lil plot advancers)

Soon, I’m going to write a part three and that’ll focus on first chapters!

I hope this is of use to you guys, and if it is, please consider reblogging so others can see this, too!! 💖💖 (also!! my ko-fi is here if you would like to buy me a coffee and support me!!)

also: special thanks to @starkdnvers for helping me with the gif at the top!

╰⊱♥⊱ READ PART ONE HERE

╰⊱♥⊱╮ one: titles

╰⊱♥⊱╮ step no. one: actual story titles

The way to title your story is pretty simple, really. It needs to reflect upon the entire story. You can take inspiration from things like songs, but personally, I prefer it when people don’t? Obviously sometimes there are exceptions, but for the most part, if you want an effective story title, make sure it fits the story.

Maybe it’s named after the main character. I have a fic called Briar, after the main character Briar, and I also have a fic called Morningstar, which is the main character’s surname, and her surname represents the power she has. Both of these titles reflect upon the story itself.

I’m gonna be honest, one of my fics is called Go Lightly and tbh, what happened was that it was going to be called something else, but “go lightly” was the name of playlist because the character’s name is Holly, and “go lightly” just stuck. I sort of made the phrase have a meaning in the story, which I count as an exception but again, like I said, every writing rule has exceptions.

Sometimes titles can be super hard to think of, but, if you’re like me and you like to give your playlists cute names, sometimes you’ll end up giving them a name, and then that name sticks, and works as the title. (It’s happened twice now, for me??)

The way to titling your story is thinking of what the story’s about. Do some thinking about it, maybe write down a couple you like the idea of, and normally I find that one title will just fit. Same goes for character names -- there’ll be one that just works, and until you get to that point, you just need to persevere.

╰⊱♥⊱╮ step no. two: chapter titles

I love chapter titles!! I’ve been told before that I have nice ones, and I’ve answered this in an ask before, but I’ll break it down here.

Sometimes i’ll pick out phrases from the chapter and use them, but also, i’ll look at song titles and other things. All of my fics have a whole note dedicated to potential chapter titles (which makes it so much easier when you’re struggling!!) and basically I’ll write down idioms, phrases, etc, that could work as a chapter title.

The idea is to try and make that chapter titles feel as if they have a correlation, even if only you can see it. (To be honest, I didn’t think people noticed mine, but apparently they do, so maybe others will see the correlation too!!)

So, for example, my fic Morningstar, for the list of chapter titles I’ve written down phrases taking inspiration from:

Gossip Girl episodes (she lives in the upper east side)

Old school book titles, including The Clique, Monster High, and Clueless (these all fit the main character’s overall vibe and the style that her narration is written!)

I feel like it adds another level of character to the story, if the chapter titles are written in a way that reflects upon the main character. For Clueless, the chapter titles are all a little flirty and playful because that’s what the main character’s like. I wouldn’t recommend having a solid theme (obviously there are EXCEPTIONS!) because sometimes a chapter needs a Specific Title. But, if you guys were wanting your chapter titles to have some correlation to them, this is how I do it!

╰⊱♥⊱╮ two: dialogue

This one is gonna be super short, because I don’t really know how best to explain this. I write dialogue with the intention of making it sound realistic. But, sometimes it helps me to write just the dialogue, almost like a script, before writing the scene because then I can focus on what the characters are saying. You can change the dialogue when you write the full scene, but sometimes it helps to focus just on the dialogue -- and, sometimes you sort of have an idea of how you want the scene to go, so by writing the dialogue down you know what you’re doing when you get to it!!

If you’re unsure of your dialogue/conversations sounding unrealistic, I try to keep in mind that certain people have phrases they use a lot, so characters have the same. Harry says “um” and “erm,” like, a lot. All of the Weasley kids (sort of excluding Ginny) say stuff like, “bloody,” “blimey...” You can sort of get a feel, though, for how each character speaks in the books themselves, and I’ve found it useful keeping that in mind. (But of course we haven’t heard a lot of them talking about certain things, just speaking to Harry, so if you’re unsure of how certain characters may speak to a love interest, try and keep it close to how they normally speak, but also, you can go AU if you think it’s what they probably would say.) (For this, I mean stuff like, how they say they love someone, or something.) (If you want to see my break-down of certain HP characters and how I’d write them, I have a whole list here!)

╰⊱♥⊱╮ three: staying motivated

A lot of people tell me I’m really good with updating, and like,,,, to be honest I sort of am? And like it’s not a bad thing that sometimes it takes a while for people to update,,, it’s just that a lot of the time, during school breaks, I have the time to spend on writing. I’m not saying it’s bad that sometimes people take a while to update. People are busy with school and work and life (I literally didn’t update from September to December of last year because of everything,,, and I stopped when I had exams, too) and at the end of the day, we write because we enjoy it. 

But here is how I stay motivated. (Or, in other words, how I’ve finished six whole fics, soon to be seven.)

When I get into something I get committed, and I enjoy writing the fics I write, so when I finish a chapter, normally I’ll get the next one ready to go. I enjoy feeling productive. I feel guilty if I haven’t written a story, and tbh if I haven’t been writing a story and don’t want to write it,, I’ll most likely unpublish the story because I don’t want to disappoint readers. However. There are a couple of things I keep in mind when I’m planning and such, and this is them:

I’ll commit to a small handful of fics at once. Three is stressful for me. Right now I’m writing three, but I’m at the end of one, so it’s not so bad. But I’d recommend keeping a low count of unfinished fics, because then you can focus on them.

I’ll commit. When I plan a story it will be in my drafts for a VERY long time because I’ll wait for the moment where I’ve got the time and I really want to start that story. I’ve developed it, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to start it yet. I also want to take time to see if I really want to write something. Like, for ages I thought I was going to post this one fic, and then four months later I decided against it. Taking time before posting a story allows you to sit and think, do you want to spend hours writing this, or do you like the idea?

In terms of beating writer’s block, the only way to beat it is to write. It’s annoying and you don’t want to, but the only way you’re going to get through writer’s block is if you write the chapter.

╰⊱♥⊱╮ four: fanfic specific

I’ve already addressed deciding what canon plots to use in part one, but basically, the idea is: find the plot that fits your character. There should be one that, realistically, they could be included in, and that’s normally the one I’ll go for.

╰⊱♥⊱╮ no. one: changing canon

IF SOMEONE DIES, THEY DIE.

That is the one rule. I think it’s wrong when fanfics reverse canon in that way. I don’t like it when fanfic writers don’t make a character die, when they’re supposed to, because they like the character. They died for a reason.

... But, having said that, there is one exception:

If the death was badly done, or because of your plot changing canon a little it can’t actually happen -- but they’re going to die later, instead.

But. In terms of changing canon that isn’t so... important, I think that as long as you’ve got a reason for it, then go for it. At the end of the day, view your fic as it’s own story -- if you need to change canon a little bit, to help further your plot, then do it. If you need your character to, I don’t know, kill Dumbledore, or something, and you need to do it to help further your plot, do it. I am giving you permission to make things interesting and switch canon up.

Don’t stray away too much, but if it’s every so often, what’s the harm? If anything, it’s fun and exciting for readers to see that this fic’s a little bit different.

For example: I have a Peter Parker fic, but, since I know I write better with fantasy elements (by this I mean witchcraft over science fiction) the main character Isabelle’s plot lines, such as her villains and her powers, are all based within mythology rather than science fiction. I know I write fantasy better, so I’ve tweaked it so that the main focus is my strength, rather than science, which isn’t! At all!

Same with dialogue. I’d recommend staying close to the books, or the films, but sis the books have the longest conversations. It’s fine to condense conversations, too, or trim them a little. Make sure you’ve got everything there, so the readers know what’s going on -- again, treat it like your own story,, with the idea that unless you have not told the readers something, they will have no knowledge of it (as if they’re reading your fic but have not read the source) -- but if you need to trim, trim. 

I talked about it a little in this ask, which is more on how I write the whole books, but there’s a little bit about conversations, too!

╰⊱♥⊱╮ no. two: writing canon characters realistically

I’ve touched upon this a little in dialogue, with how they speak, but normally if I’m writing a fic, I’ll look on the wiki page about them, so I know about their life and upbringing and such. Sometimes there’s things on there that you don’t think about, and if you’re wriitng with that knowledge, even if you don’t mention it, you know that character better and you’ll be able to write them better!

Speaking of -- if you’re writing a Fred or George fic, there’s a really good essay on Pottermore about the differences between them!!

╰⊱♥⊱╮ no. two point one: writing canon realistically

By this, I mean, writing locations and such like they are in the books. I don’t think any of us will notice if small things are changed, but, what I do if I’m writing during a specific class, or at a specific location (eg Grimmauld Place) I’ll look on the wiki page about that thing, and refer back to it if I’m unsure on anything. Sometimes I make stuff up, but it’s nice to know that if you want to double-check something, you’ve got the page open. (And, you never know when it’ll come in handy!! I had the Grimmauld Place one open and read something about an heirloom the Black family has, and now I can include it in my fic!!)

╰⊱♥⊱╮ five: how i use pinterest

I talked about this mostly in part one, but essentially, I use Pinterest as a means of figuring out how I imagine everything. A lot of the time I find it a lot easier to describe things if I know the specific way I’m deciding to present it, if that makes sense. It really isn’t necessary, but I like to have visuals to look back on.

Basically I’ll make a private Pinterest board, and have different sections for different things. I mentioned I have one for like a character’s wardrobe, and their bedroom, but I’ll show an example of Izzy’s board because it’s come in handy for her fic especially.

So, there are nine boards:

Moroi looks at Izzy’s superhero alter ego, with how she actually looks, and also on things like her powers

Izzy’s outfits and Izzy’s closet look at Izzy’s clothes. Outfits is for specific chapters, closet is for ideas

Izzy’s room is... Izzy’s room. Lol

Oswald penthouse is pretty much different pictures to kind of visualise Izzy’s home, so when I come to writing it I know how to present it

The Monsters has been scribbled out, but basically in that I’ve got pictures of certain creatures and places that will come into play with the villains Izzy faces throughout the story, both the little ones and the Big One. But because it’s literally spoiler city it’s blocked out

Cerberus is Izzy’s dog!! So I made one whilst I was figuring out how I wanted to present him

Marie’s valise is similar to Izzy’s closet, only with Marie (Izzy’s guardian) and her fashion. (Lots of vintage inspired because she’s from that time.)

Mary Immaculate is the section for Izzy’s school. Because I made the place up, I made a section so I know how I’m roughly describing things like the exterior, the interior, even the uniforms with the Blair pictures. Basically it’s just a way of me knowing how I’m going to describe it whenever the scenes take place at the school.

Another example is the Clueless board, which hasn’t been used as much, but like, to be fair, the only reason Izzy’s is so used is because most of it is AU. So.

Here we have:

Briar’s trunk which is Briar’s clothes (all of mine have one similar)

Beauxbatons which is me figuring out how I’m going to describe the school. There’s also a couple textposts about people’s headcanons, and tbh it’s helped out, keeping in mind how other people imagine the school to be like. (This is also super unnecessary but I also did research in the differences between the UK and France!! Did not need to do it at ALL but it’s helpful to know!!)

Carriage is basically me figuring out how the inside of the carriage looks like, same as Beauxbatons only not as much detail into it??

Honestly if you do this, the sections can be super messy if you want, it’s sort of just a way to visualise your fics! I know for me it’s really helped me out!!

╰⊱♥⊱╮ six: more on chapter summaries

OK, so. I like to write chapter summaries because it means that when I get to that chapter, I know what I’m doing. But, there are two type of chapter summaries:

The ones done ages in advance, super in detail, by the time you get to the chapter they don’t make much sense but if you’re familiar with the fic you can figure out what to do with it

The ones that are literally scribbled down before you start writing, so you map everything out. These are the ones I end up doing at the end of stories, because it’s literally a way of me being like “ok so this is in this chapter, so this will be in the next,” and having it all written down so I wont forgot my plan

Normally by the time I get to the end I’ll know how i’m ending it, so I won’t pay much attention to the chapter summaries, but sometimes I’ll super quickly write down what I’m doing so I remember. Also, with first chapters, I sort of always have an idea of what I’m doing, and I’ll just freestyle it, but I’ll show an example of a thought-out chapter summary:

It’s in detail but it’s so messy. Like, it’s difficult to explain it, because in some parts there’s me shortening words to write them faster, also there’s things in quotes because I might include the sentence in the chapter, and also there’s additional notes. (Like, how Briar will be on the train longer than Fleur, in case I mention it in the chapter.) Basically, I write down everything I need to keep in mind, it barely makes sense to anyone but me, but it helps me remember what I’m doing, and that’s the important part.

Also! Since in the fic, the main character’s a werewolf, at the top of the note with the chapter summaries I left a little message to myself about how the full moons will affect her.

Mostly it’s there so I can refer back to it, and it is really helpful. So if there’s anything you wanna keep in mind, you can always leave it at the top of your chapter summaries!! (If you have a lot of stuff, though, I’d recommend making another folder for just notes on planning -- I’ve got one for Morningstar.)

Sooo, it basically has: the monsters, chapter titles, her powers, a Bible verse lol, and then a planned out summary of part one... That I never finished... And instead made a super quick one that I have in another folder on notes, which literally just says when events will take place. (E.g., ‘Lagos,’ then ‘Start of the Bride,’ then ‘Berlin.’ Since I know what’s happening it’s easier just to jot down when they’re going to happen, as a way to remember.)

Then, the other way of summaries is the quick ones. I did this for the end of Holliday Dearest, one of my fics I finished last year, and tbh it helped just as much as a detailed one.

It’s literally the shortest thing ever, but since I knew what was going to happen, I just needed to know which chapter they’d be happening in, it really helped when I was writing it! (I literally think i wrote this on my phone before I went to bed, and like, it was just as useful as a detailed one.)

Chapter summaries really don’t have to be detailed, they just have to remind you of what you’re doing. If there’s stuff you want to include, then write it down, because you never know if you’ll forget, and even if you don’t use that thing in the end, at least you’ve written it down just in case.

For those of you that read my stuff, I didn’t do this for Briar, but then I knew the books well enough to have in mind what was going on. For Blue and Mean Spirits I made sure to write summaries because it’s marauders era, therefore it’s all up to me, basically. I’m not sure if I did one for Bones? But from Go Lightly onwards, I’ve done them for every fic, and it really helps me out!!

That’s everything for part two!! If you have any more questions, let me know!

My wattpad is here and my ko-fi is here, if you’re interested in either!! 💖

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Those Who Fall: “APTF” Story (Modern Domestic Stucky AU)

Two:

"Sophia has swim practice at five," Steve reminded Bucky, stirring lukewarm rice cereal for Holly.  "And I can't be there because I have parent-teacher conferences, so I really need you to be there."

"Swim practice at five," Bucky repeated, pouring brownie flavored coffee into Steve's thermos for him, "Got it. I'll be there."

Steve nodded and started feeding the ten month old. Around a mouthful of scrambled eggs and lightly burnt toast, their oldest, Luke said, "Remember, marching band doesn't get over until seven tonight because we're getting ready for Homecoming."

"Shoot! That's right," Steve momentarily set down the small bowl of baby food and grabbed the stack of ghost shaped post-it notes by the fridge and wrote a reminder for himself. Making sure that he wouldn't forget, he stuck it to his phone, and then got back to feeding the sassiest of the bunch.

Inadvertently making a funny face as he fed the baby, by opening his own mouth in hopes that she'd open hers. Most times, she did. When a mess happened, he used the spoon to collect the mush off her light pink-white face and told Luke, "I'll swing by to pick you up after I'm done with conferences."

"That's okay," the teen exclaimed just a little too quickly to not be suspicious. Wiping his mouth on the back of his dark olive-brown hand, he clunkily recovered, "I have a ride."

"You do?" Bucky asked, brows quirked high on his forehead. Steve turned around to exchange a look with Bucky while Luke nodded his confirmation and Bucky questioned, "Who?"

"Oh, uh," a red tint started to color his still childish-chubby cheeks and he looked everywhere but at either of his dads, "Just some friends. Other band kids."

"Stacy," Sophia sing-songed while she pushed her choppy black bangs away from her almond shaped eyes.

"That's not even her name," Luke glared at the eight year old and sneered under his breath, "Shut up!"

Sophia's mouth dropped open and she instantly tattled, "Daddy, Luke told me to shut up!"

"Shut up!" Luke said, louder, with wide eyes.

"Daddy, Luke told me --"

"Shut up!" Ethan, their six year old foster son, copied his idol, the older boy.

"Daddy, Ethan --"

"Luke, don't tell your sister to, 'shut up.'" Bucky reprimanded around a mouthful of eggs, "Ethan, don't copy your older brother. Especially when he's saying a No-No Phrase."

Luke rolled his eyes at that, but didn't say anything. Instead he stood from the island and brought his plate around to the sink. Rinsing it first, he set it in the dishwasher before making his way back upstairs to his room. Steve glanced at the clock to check the time.

Once Holly started getting fussy and made a mess because she wasn't hungry anymore, Steve decided that it was time for him to get the rest of the kids ready. Setting the half-full bowl in the sink, Steve wiped her round face, and noted the way her bottom lip was quivering.

As Steve lifted her from the high chair, Bucky noticed it too and playfully pretended as though he was going to eat her tiny hand. Instantly, Holly giggled and Steve pressed a sweet kiss to Bucky's cheek. Of course, that caused the eight year old and six year old still at the island to mock gags while they complained about the PDA.

Playfully rolling his eyes, Steve shook his head and carried the baby upstairs. Passing the kids' bathroom, Steve noticed Luke digging through the drawers as he looked for something. Switching Holly to his other hip, Steve paused at the open door.

"Need help?" Steve asked.

Sighing, the fifteen year old stood upright and threw his head back as he explained, "I can't find my sponge."

"Well," Steve thought for a moment. But Steve didn't get a lot of sleep and he had a fussy baby on his hip, "Maybe it's in your room."

"It's not going to --"

"Just look, please?" Steve interrupted. Switching hips again, Steve assured, "As soon as I get Holly dressed, I'll help look for it. Okay?"

Although he wasn't happy about it, he still agreed. Nodding, he exited the bathroom and into his bedroom. Not wanting to take too long dilly dallying, Steve entered Holly's room and immediately changed her out of her footie pajamas. Since it was October, Steve decided on an appropriate outfit. Black leggings dotted with metallic gold pumpkins and a matching white sweater with a large metallic gold pumpkin on the front.

"Let's go help bub!" Steve exaggerated as he placed the ten month old on his hip once more and carried her into the bathroom.

Rummaging through the vanity drawers, Steve looked underneath hairbrushes and combs and wondered why the hell they had so many when only four children were currently living with them. Looked underneath the bows and scrunchies, and extra toothbrushes. Nothing. Nada. The sponge wasn't there.

"Did you find it?"

Turning around to find the hopeful teen, Steve's shoulders slumped and he shook his head. "Sorry, bud." Trying to think of where it could be, he asked, "Have you checked in the downstairs bathroom?"

"No," Luke sighed and turned to walk downstairs. Under his breath, he muttered, "Why would it be in the downstairs bathroom?"

Sighing himself, Steve kissed Holly's temple and finger combed her wild red curls. Heading back downstairs, Sophia passed him on the staircase. On a whim, Steve stopped her and asked, "Have you seen Luke's sponge?"

A glimpse of guilt flashed across her expression as she shrugged and went to run upstairs. Steve narrowed his eyes suspiciously and backtracked up the steps. Following his daughter to her room and simply standing there in the open doorway as he repeated, "Have you see Luke's sponge?"

The way that Sophia purposely didn't look at him was answer enough. With a sigh, he said, "I need you to give it back."

"But then Barbie won't have a bed!" Sophia argued, her thin lower lip pouting while she stomped her foot.

"Barbie already has a bed, it's attached to the cottage's wall," Steve answered walking into the bedroom. Bypassing the two spare beds to reach the blue Barbie Dream Cottage. Only, he didn't find it.

Straightening up, Steve quirked a brow at her, and she pointed over to the aisle between two of the beds. Sheepishly, she clarified, "Barbie went camping."

Despite himself, he couldn't help the grin stretch at his lips as he set Holly on the floor and got down to his hands and knees. Under the bed, a miniature pink and purple tent was set up. Lifting it, he found the black Barbie doll, "sleeping," on the large sponge. Specifically on the egg carton foam-like side, which Steve found amusing.

"No," Sophia said.

Standing up, Steve watched as Sophia tried to keep Holly from leaving the bedroom. Although she had nothing to worry about with the baby gate at the top of the stairs, it warmed Steve's heart to see that she did care. Especially with the way she was when she came to live with them two and a half years ago. It filled Steve up with love seeing that growth.

"Pops! Did you find --" Cutting himself off, Luke's eyes were trained on the sponge and then they glared at his sister, "I told you to keep your hands off my stuff!"

"But Barbie needed a bed!" Sophia argued as though it made perfect sense.

"You can't just take things that aren't yours!"

"Papa!" Sophia whined.

Lifting Holly into his arms once more, Steve shook his head and confirmed, "It's not nice to take things that aren't yours without asking. How would you feel if Ethan took your Barbie?"

Sighing Sophia got it, and she said, "Sorry, Luke."

As Steve handed the sponge to Luke, he lifted brows expectantly and gave the eight year old a pointed look. Rolling his eyes, Luke sighed, "It's okay."

Steve simply shook his head. Luke was already rubbing the sponge along his hair in circular motions. Creating twists and defined curls as he entered the bathroom. Sophia followed after him and he helpfully handed her, her glittery purple Little Mermaid brush. Although they fought more often than not, Steve wouldn't trade it for anything. The little moments when they got along was everything to Steve.