#I’ve written a good portion of this but I Dunno if I’ll continue

[wildelydawn]

Woke up this morning thinking about Macau and Chay and their reluctant proximity in the Main House after canon happens. No one knows why Chay’s dropped out of school but Macau finds out. He finds out and he feels just a bit jealous because everyone around him has someone, and he feels just a bit sad because Chay did have someone and now Kim’s gone.

He does his best to help Chay move on. They develop hobbies together. Movies. Gaming. Chay even starts writing music again. He admits to Macau that he used to write little notes on cute stationary paper for Kim and now doesn’t know what to do with the other 100 sheets. So Macau teaches him how to fold the notes into little shapes so he can write and put them away, like Pete taught him. (Something something, Pete is a father and brother and mentor figure, Pete is just perfect)

Somewhere along the line, Macau sees how Kim is pining just as badly for Chay. He convinces Chay to hear Kim out. It’s not easy for anyone; Chay is confused, Kim is broken, and Macau is watching his friend leave him behind. But Macau, who’s always been a smidge selfish, finds himself okay with that. It’s okay to be left behind because Chay and Kim can be happy. He just hopes it’ll be him one day.

He and Chay spend another day folding notes. Chay folds a really simple flower and says he’s going to be honest today, with everyone: Kim, Porsche, etc. Macau watches him write I love you into another purple note before folding it into another flower. He should feel sad. He’s not.

Days later, Macau is only beginning to make his peace with Chay going back to Kim. But it’s okay because Chay still hangs out with him. Kim does too. It’s like they’re inseparable, and Macau feels safe. He wonders if Kim’s just putting up with him but Kim has a way of making Macau feel like he’s not alone, not the forgotten son of this family. He and Kim go out for smoothies and judge the Thai Top 10 weekly singles. Kim picks him up from school and even pays a visit to Vegas when Macau wants to switch faculties. Whatever their new bond is, Macau is grateful because he doesn’t quite know what love is, but this is very close to that. At least he has his friend and his family.

Macau thinks he’s fine until Chay shows up at his dorm room, the folded purple flower from weeks ago, in his hand, telling him that he needs to be honest with Macau too. Macau breaks down, sobbing. It isn’t right, it’s not supposed to be him. And he’s so scared. He’s so scared that Kim’s gonna be mad. That if Chay stays a minute longer, he’s going to lose his best friend and his cousin all at once. He cries so hard that he wants to throw up, but it’s Chay soothing him. It’s Chay, and then it’s Kim, and it’s them, and Macau doesn’t know how it’s supposed to be but for the first time in his life, he knows it’ll work out just fine.

EDIT: This is officially a fic now!

[dreamylyfe-x]

Reactions: 11x03 Frances Francis Franny Frank

While I feel like I’ve said a million words about this episode already I still have a lot more to say, so... 

* To start: I think there’s a lot about this episode to recommend it. I think it plants seeds I fully expect to see grow over the rest of the season. I think it might have the first real hint of the ending. And I think it did things with two characters I often do not enjoy that made me enjoy them. So full credit on that front. 

* Father Lip and his extremely tricked out baby room is delightful to me. I have come full circle on Lip. I was pretty exhausted by him in the later seasons, but this season I’m just like... You’re doing ok, Lip. Keep figuring it out. 

* And look. I live in a country with universal health care so a huge portion of this episode is like watching a horror movie to me -- but a horror movie that takes place on Mars, where you’re just like “This is TERRIBLE. You guys should get off of Mars.” Give up everything to save your baby because that’s the only choice afforded you. I really want someone to tell me that isn’t actually a thing that can happen to people. I fear no one will. 

* Gallavich: Enter fucking. In an entirely new way! I don’t think I paid this enough mind my first trip through the episode because I was too focused on things like “Did he just call him a dirty convict?” -- but there is so much going on here in terms of what we’ve ever seen of their sex life. Overt dirty talk, choking, Mickey on his back... And while it goes off the rails FAST, I do like the energy of Mickey’s move to switch positions because it reminds me of their play-wrestling in season five, a dynamic I think is very real and very indicative of a loving relationship between two teenaged boys. Ex-teens now, but it still works. 

* Ok, but... Like Ian looks honestly freaked out and that is... um... interesting. I reblogged @gallavictorious ‘s post earlier on this scene which I recommend. In general Ian’s reluctance makes sense to me, but I still get a level of unease that surprises me. They may never comment further (I don’t expect them to), but. It’s notable to me. 

* I still like the intimacy here. The rolling around together on their tiny bed and everything. I dunno. Even with all the conflict, they still seem in sync with each other. 

* watching from my app with captions is helpful. Debbie isn’t that crazy. She asks someone to take Franny to school and then Ian and Mickey say yes to taking Carl to work which is reasonable for her to assume means they’re taking Franny. But... Liam quickly points out that this has happened to him before. 

* For the second week in a row there is something happen on this show I am more interested in than the Gallavich story. And it’s Frank. WTF. 

* Kevin REALLY needs to watch Better Call Saul. 

* Oh my GOD does it feel like classic early-season Shameless, having Mickey and Kev in a scene together. I approve. I am in for more of this on every level. Actually, at The Alibi in general, Mickey feels so deeply familiar. But also, does Kev REMEMBER he’s had his keg robbed before? They taped him to a chair, for God’s sake. 

* It is flat out magical realism to tell us Mickey doesn’t work out.

* So on second viewing I think the emasculation of Ian at the hands of the retail giant is more clear. I still find a lot of the misogynist language tough to listen to in that context. Honestly, there’s something about the whole concept of emasculating that bugs me because of what it suggests about gender. Doesn’t mean that it’s not a very loaded thing for Ian to be experiencing, though. 

* I really don’t have much to say about Carl the Cop. I think they are taking the position that the cops are the worst, but this is also one of those things I don’t find entertaining. 

* You know who I DO find entertaining? Sandy. And she’s a pretty great girlfriend. 

* I cannot even tell you how low my tolerance for Frank generally is. This is may be the only episode where I’ve enjoyed him. 

* I like the fact that Debbie keeps entering rooms yelling “FRANK GALLLLLLAGHER” a la Mickey in season one with Ian. 

* Ok, so... Yeah. I just don’t like how mean Mickey and Ian are to each other in this episode. I don’t like the rubbing the salt in the would when Ian quits his job. I don’t like the fighting. @fiona-fififi wrote a comprehensive post about their physical fighting and it’s well written and I do not disagree... but I hate it when they hurt each other like this. I’m just not here for it. 

* V is the voice of the show here. Like, this is what they want to hammer home. And her speech is a good one. But I’m still just not enjoying how dark this one got. I DO get why Ian is not rushing to forgiveness because man did Mickey go in on him at a vulnerable moment. 

* Ok -- I said this before but I’ll repeat it. There is something in the scene with Frank and Franny makes me feel like we’re getting foreshadowed hard. They really hold on his confusion and he seems unnerved. Disorientation is normal for Frank. But he seems to be signalling in the moment that what he’s experiencing isn’t normal. Hmm. 

* Seriously. The American health care system is a nightmare. It should be the title of a Ryan Murphy series. 

* I honestly think Presley Schrader is doing a great job in this episode. Ditto Christian, who doesn’t have a lot to do, but nails Liam’s long-suffering resignation. 

* Second viewing, I found Debbie more sympathetic, but I feel like we don’t get nearly the sense of her “running everything” the way we did with Fiona, so her frustration with her siblings seems extreme. Also, Sandy clearly disapproves and I think they intend for us to see Sandy as a voice of reason. 

* I have a lot more understanding of Lip yelling at Debbie than I ever had of him yelling at Fiona, which is maybe indicative of not feeling like her load is as heavy. 

* Milton continues the proud tradition of random Gallagher acquaintances who are fundamentally decent and helpful. He goes into the Parthenon along with Ryan and Barb. Because YES, Lip is pouring a lot of time and money into a house he doesn’t own, and apparently he didn’t make ANY arrangement about that. Milton doesn’t have to do what he does. But apparently he’s just a good guy. 

* This is very random but I’ve read so much from people complaining about mask use on TV right now -- how people take them off when they should most be on -- and I enjoy the fact that Shameless is at least nodding to why someone isn’t wearing a mask.... But Tami had the absolutely best and most convincing reason.  * So we close on Gallavich as we found them (RIP anyone who is home at that particular moment) -- fucking and fighting about the Jonas brothers. I really like what @pathoftheranger had to say about that scene so I think that’s going to be the bulk of my comment. Just... well. They seem to have moved through some stuff. I guess we’ll see where they’re at come January. 

[ickle-ronniekins]

crush, fred x reader

request: from anon: I don’t know if ur accepting requests right now but if you are, could you write about Fred having a crush on a girl that happens to be best friends with Ron? Btw I hope that things with your boyfriend are beginning to get better x | hi darling sunshine! of course i’ll write that for you! & yes, requests are open indeed :) aw thanks lovey, we’re always working at it, also this is hella long i got so carried away i am so sorry lmao x also idk how i feel about this ugh cause i tried to make it sound like the reader and ron are best friends but reading it back i’m kind of like ??? but also i rewrote the first portion like literally four different times UGH i struggled with this one but it was a good struggle anon THANK U for the request!

prompt: none

warnings: instability bc weasley perfection? IDK MAN

You and Ron were sitting in the Great Hall, watching as brave students from each house and the other wizarding schools placed their names into the goblet, hoping to be chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. “I wish I could enter,” he told you.

Just then, Harry appeared beside you both. “No you bloody don’t,” he told him and laughed.

“Yeah, Ron, you’ve got to be barking mad to want to enter,” you said. Just then, his older twin brothers ran into the Great Hall, ringing in cheers from everyone around them. They were both holding something in their hands. You just rolled your eyes. “Case in point, Ron. Look at those two.”

Fred and George were showing off whatever concoction they’d brewed up when they came over to the three of you. George asked, “Don’t think we can do it?”

“No,” the three of you said together.

Fred overdramatically fell backwards and into you—pretending to be offended by your doubt that they were going to successfully be able to place their names in the goblet, whilst somehow being able to trick Dumbledore’s age line.

“Y/N,” Fred whined, “I’m heartbroken. Literally heartbroken that you don’t believe in us.”

“Oh, it’s not that I don’t believe in you, Freddie,” you told him and his eyes were swimming with excitement. “It’s just that I believe in Dumbledore more.”

Ron and Harry began laughing next to you when the twins began to shake their vials. The surrounding students were becoming more and more excited to see what was about to happen, and many people began whispering animatedly. The goblet was showing off a deep blue color fire, and Fred and George were more than ready to place their names in.

“Just wait,” Fred told you and swung his arm around your shoulder. “In three days time I’ll have been chosen to compete in the tournament, and by the end of the school year, I’ll be the champion, and you’ll be so impressed that you’ll fall head over heels.”

You scoffed at him. “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” he told you, “It is. Ready, George?”

“Ready, Fred,”

“Bottoms up!” they said together.

And that’s when hilarity ensued.

Later that evening, in the common room, Fred, George, Harry and Ron were playing a game of cards, while you, Ginny, and Hermione were sitting around the fire, chatting about the upcoming tournament and the Yule Ball.

George was scratching his face and saying, “I still have remnants of that bloody beard from this afternoon. Who knew our aging potion wouldn’t work?”

Ron laughed. “Everyone, mate.”

“Oh, it definitely worked,” Harry retorted, “just not the way you wanted it too.” Him and Ron started snickering like little girls.

Fred wasn’t listening. He was shuffling his cards slowly, sort of in a daydream like trance, and Ron was snapping his fingers in front of his face.

He was too busy peering at you to notice anything else around him. He was focused on the way your hair cascaded over your shoulders in soft curls, the rosy pink your cheeks turned after being out in the cold, your voice bouncing off of the common rooms walls every time you let a giggle escape your lips, the clothes you wore other than your Gryffindor robes.

“Hello?” Ron said, slapping Fred across the cheek.

Surprised and brought back to reality, Fred placed a hand to his cheek. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

George just laughed. “We’ve been trying to get your attention for the last ten minutes, Freddie,”

Fred softened and turned back towards you. “Oh,” he said, completely forgetting the moment. He watched you still, and when you looked up from your conversation with Hermione and Ginny and caught his glance, you beamed at him. It’s almost as if you could hear his heart begin to pound.

He turned back towards his friends and told them, “Erm, guys—I’ve something to tell you,”

George, Ron, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh, just a little bit. The common room fire was roaring and the students around were buzzing, but Fred Weasley was nervous. He was actually nervous.

George smirked when he told him, “Yeah? Go on then.”

Fred swallowed over a lump in his throat. He made sure that you were out of earshot. “I’m...kind of mad for Y/N.”

The three boys sat for a moment and then burst out into laughter. Fred furrowed his brows, obviously offended by their laughter and his humiliation, when Harry spoke.

“We know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, mate, the whole bloody world knows,” George told his twin. “You’re not exactly subtle with it.”

Ron snorted before saying, “Yeah, and your flirting isn’t the best, either.” Fred punched him in the arm. “Don’t worry, she hasn’t said anything to me about it. Pretty sure she doesn’t even realize it’s flirting—” Ron couldn’t help but snicker, and Fred punched him in the arm again.

He turned back towards you, watching you again, wanting nothing more than to run over, spin you around and kiss you, but he held back the urge. He placed his hand under his cheek and rested on it, peering at you with admiration. To the boys, he said, “So what the bloody hell do I do now?”

“What you’re good at,”

Fred looked towards his twin with confusion written on his face.

“Be honest, do your thing and tell her.”

You were suffering silently in Potions with Ron. Across from you, Harry and Hermione seemed to be brewing something perfect, while yours, on the other hand, wasn’t looking terribly great. Ron kept groaning and letting his head fall onto the desk.

Snape was in a particularly bad mood that Wednesday afternoon, for whatever unbeknownst reason. He had given you all the hardest potion to brew, with directions that weren’t clear in the slightest, and left you all to the cauldrons. And the punishment for not brewing it absolutely perfectly? Two weeks detention.

You wished you could be outside in the snow, walking through Hogsmeade, heading into Zonko’s, warming up in The Three Broomsticks with a butterbeer. Anything but this.

“I hate this bloody class,” Ron said as he added a sprinkle of something to the potion that prompted it to turn a nasty, purply-brown color. Ron scowled and peered at the directions on the board once more.

“Just think—in a week, we’ll be at the Yule Ball, dancing the night away, not worrying about this stupid lesson,” you told him and grabbed his hand before he disastrously placed way too many porcupine quills in the potion. “No, no—two, Ron, not five.”

Two did the trick. The grody, brown looking potion in front of you seemed to take a turn for the better when it slowly became a nice looking green color, which is what it should have been in the first place. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Hey, who’re you bringing to that, anyway?”

“I dunno,” you told him truthfully as you added another mistletoe berry into the potion. “Why? D’you want to go with me, Ron?” you teased.

“Ha-ha,” he said sarcastically, and you could’ve sworn you saw him glance admiringly at Hermione, who was almost finished brewing her perfect potion. Ron cleared his throat when he noticed you saw him. He continued, “No, really, who do you think you’ll go with?”

“I dunno, Ron!” you laughed. “I genuinely have no idea. Why are you pushing this?” You saw his cheeks turn rosy and he seemed to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He was hiding something. “Ronald Weasley, what do you know?”

“Nothing!” Ron jumped up. Snape looked up from the other end of the room where he was observing the Slytherin’s potions. He shot the both of you a look of pure disgust, and went back to his observations. Ron swallowed over a lump in his throat when you kept prodding him with your wand. He rolled his robe sleeves to his elbows and breathed out slowly. You loved how nervous Ron got when he was keeping a secret, because truthfully, he wasn’t very good at keeping them. He kept pushing his long hair out of his eyes and tapping his feet against the floor. When you wouldn’t let up, he finally blurted out, “Enough with the third degree! Freddie’s mad for you, alright?”

You were so taken aback, literally, you almost knocked your cauldron onto the floor. Luckily, behind you, Dean Thomas caught it with mere milliseconds to spare. “What?” you asked Ron. “No he isn’t,” you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.

Ron’s nervousness seemed to slip away when he laughed and said, “Don’t make me say ‘I told you, so’.”

It’s as if Ron’s words made them appear, because Fred and George slipped into your Potions class, somehow, without Snape seeing. At least, at first.

“What the bloody hell are you two doing in here?” Ron and Harry asked them.

George just rolled his eyes. “I tried to stop him, but he took my advice way too literally.”

“What advice?” You and Hermione wondered aloud at the same time.

Fred stepped closer to you and your heart started to pound. In the middle of class? Was he kidding? With twenty or so other students there? And Snape?

“You’re coming to the Yule Ball with me,” he told you straightforwardly. It wasn’t a question and you didn’t seem to have a choice in the matter.

You asked him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” he told you confidently. “Yeah, it is because I’m mad for you,” he winked, “and I know you’re mad for me, too.”

You could feel your lips curl into a sensual sort of smirk. Just then, someone from Slytherin yelled out and pointed towards the twins, and Snape turned swiftly from the back of the dungeons. You could’ve sworn you heard him yell out, “Weasley!” but you were too distracted to even care. All you cared about was the boy in front of you—with his long red hair, his heart melting half smiling, and the fact that he was a bloody idiot sneaking into your class. You didn’t care about anything else. Your heart was racing. The dungeons were bustling with chatter now—about Snape being even more angry than he already was, and about those older, redheaded Weasleys that somehow managed to make their way into a busy Potions class.

George was kicking Fred’s leg, saying, “Bloody hell, mate, let’s go!” but Fred didn’t move. Instead, he stood there, waiting for you to say something, anything.

“So?” Ron, Harry, George and Hermione all asked together.

You looked at them and then back towards Fred and asked him, “Well what took you so bloody long to figure it out?”

His smirk only grew, his eyes enticing you to run out of that classroom and back to whatever empty room you could find. But just then, Snape reached the top of the classroom and tried to grab Fred by his robe sleeves.

George kicked Fred once more before sprinting out of the classroom, and before following his twin, Fred squeezed your hand and said to you, “Being chased by Snape is totally worth it, by the way.” He slipped out from underneath Snape’s grimy fingertips and left the Potions professor seething at the seams.

Professor Snape turned to you, red faced and livid, and announced in front of the entire class, “A week’s detention! Was it worth it, Y/L/N? Was it worth it for that Weasley boy?”

But Fred was still there, outside the classroom. He was careful not to be seen, but he was still peering in at you to make sure you didn’t receive too bad of a punishment for his shenanigans. You knew Fred would probably manage to sneak his way into your detention, too. You smirked at Snape and then turned your attention to Freddie in the corridor. Without skipping a beat, you winked and responded, “Totally worth it.”

[fanficwriter013]

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard - 20

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2684

Warnings: hangovers, talk of sex

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man.  When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood.  While others expect Thor to make things more official.  What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note:  Written with the only good mom I have @avengerscompound​, whom I almost forgot to tag

Chapter 20: Potions and Apples

Fandral led the way down to the healers carrying Sam like he was a baby.  I followed with Wanda, letting her lean against me as we walked.  She held her head and occasionally her eyes would glow pink for a moment before returning to normal.

“Can you not walk too bumpily?”  Sam groaned, shifting in Fandral’s arms a little.

“No one has ever complained about my gait before,” Fandral said, sounding amused.

“I’m sick,”  Sam whined.  “I’ll puke on you.”

“Alright, my lord.  I’ll be more careful.”  Fandral teased.

“So, Fandral,”  I said, as Fandral shifted Sam so he was being held a little closer to him.  “What’s the deal with you and Loki?”

Fandral chuckled.  “Do you want me to lose my life?”

“You were both thinking some pretty explicit thoughts before,” Wanda said.

“We are … complicated.”  Fandral explained. “Loki tolerates few you may have noticed.”

“The babies,”  Wanda said.  “And that’s about it.”

An affectionate smile crossed over Fandral’s face.  “Oh, yes.  The babes hold the largest portion of Loki’s affection.”  He said.  “The thing about Loki is most don’t understand him.  I think it’s just a case of, I can see what his thought processes are like.”  He gave us a sly look and quirked an eyebrow.  “Not to mention, I am very easy, ladies.  I have no expectation that Loki will have any interest in me tomorrow and nor do I have any desire to be tied down.”

“Uh-huh,” Wanda said sounding unconvinced.

“It’s the truth, my lady,”  Fandal said.  “Asgard is not like Midgard and you are hardly in a typical relationship yourself, even for Asgardian standards.  We don’t define it.  I do, however, like romance.  I could romance you if you liked.”

Wanda pulled herself up straight.  “I am out of your league.”

I burst out laughing and Fandral feigned shock.  “My lady, you wound me.”

“What?”  Wanda said, taking my hand.  “It’s true.”

“So sharp with your words.  I am not without feelings.”  He teased and gestured to a door.  “But we are here.”

I opened it for him and Fandral carried Sam inside.  It was dark with black stone walls and dim lights that glowed softly.  A group of five women in long robes approached us and three of them took Sam away without a word.  One of the remaining women turned to us.  “Can we help either of you, your highnesses?”

“Um, yes,” Wanda said, and I could tell she wasn’t sure how to explain what was wrong.

“Wanda is a telepath, and with all the drinking…”  I said.

The woman nodded and gestured for us to follow.   Wanda lay down on a table and the three women stood around it.  A cage of light surrounded Wanda and they began to shift the beams around.

“What is that?”  Wanda asked.

“It’s a soul forge.”  The woman answered as she continued her work.  As they moved the beams Wanda seemed to relax more.  “How is that?”

“Much better,” Wanda said, almost sounding a little sleep drunk.

“We have corrected for the thoughts you were receiving,”  She said turning the forge off.  “When you go back they will return.  We have something that will block your telepathy if you wish.  It’s is a diadem, so the effects will only last while you wear it.”

“Okay,” Wanda said with an uncertain nod.

One of the healers left and returned with an intricate silver diadem.  The silver had been forged into delicate scrollwork that sat low on Wanda’s brow and right in the middle of her forehead sat a deep blue crystal.

Wanda blinked when it was in place.  “It went really quiet.”

“Is that good or bad?”  I asked.

“I do not know.  It is strange.”  She said.  “I haven't been alone in my thoughts for so long, it's both a relief and scary.  I don't like not being able to feel you.”

“It is only to guard against the hangovers.  You are free to remove it at any time.”  The healer said.

“Thank you,” Wanda said and slid off the table.

We went out to the first room to wait for Sam.  It wasn’t long before Sam came out with Fandral.  He looked much more human and happy.  “Oh wow, Wanda.  Look at you.  You’re an actual princess.”  He said coming over to her and tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“It blocks my telepathy.  I don’t know if I like it.”  Wanda said.

Sam pressed a kiss to her brow.  “It won’t be for long.”

“You feeling better then?”  I asked.

“Like it never happened.  I am so hungry now.”  He said putting his arm around Wanda.  He held up a bottle of liquid.  “They gave me this to give the others too.”

“Oh good, hopefully, that saves a lot of whining today,” I said.

“And I won’t have to wear this for too long,”  Wanda added, tapping the jewel on the diadem.

Fandal led us back to our rooms and he was immediately set on by Sif as we came through the door.  “There you are.”  She snapped.  “What the hell?”

“I was taking them to the healers as requested, my lady,” Fandral said.

“Kidnapping three of the royal family and leaving the children alone.”

Fandral laughed.  “What is Hogun?  Chopped liver?”  He snarked.  “Stop being so dramatic and drink this.”

Sam offered her the bottle and she took a drink.  “Okay, good.  I’m taking this to Volstagg.”

She disappeared into the bedroom they’d put Volstagg in as we came inside properly.  The food had been delivered and Hogun was supervising the twins with their breakfast.

“Food!”  Sam said and grabbed a plate and started to load it up.  I went to get one too and Riley started to eat directly off her plate like a dog.

“Honey,” Wanda sighed.  “Use a fork.”

“Daj,” Riley whined.  “I ead good.”

“You eat all over yourself,” Wanda said.

“Das otay.  Vows - Vowstaag… he do too.”  She said.

Wanda approached her and wiped her face clean.  “Volstagg isn’t the ruler of the nine realms, sweetie.”

“I’s a unicorn,” Riley said and went back to eating right off the plate.

Sam stifled a laugh while Wanda sighed and went and helped herself to some food.

“Don’t worry about it, Wan,” Sam said.  “I’ll give her a bath after.”

The three of us sat down on the couch, snuggled in together as we ate.  “So do you know what you’re going to do with the bonding?”  I asked.

Sam shook his head.  “I think I’ll do it.  It’s a long time to live but some of us don’t get a choice about that.  Maybe the right thing to do is to agree to go through that with them.”

I nodded.  “I keep getting stuck on the ‘having to watch Piet die’ thing.  I’ve worried about how losing everyone would affect Steve, Bucky, Nat, and Bruce for a long time.  And now the choice is being given to me and I’m scared.”

“Yes, I already lost my brother.  I don’t want to have to outlive my son.”  Wanda agreed.

“Plus everyone else.  How many friends do we outlive before I stop being able to form bonds with people because I know it’s only going to end with me watching them die?”

“You would never be able to do that,” Sam said.  “Elly, you have the biggest heart.”

“Which just means it’s going to be painful every single time,” I said.  “How much hurt can I survive?”

“All of it,” Sam said.  “You’re strong, El.”

“If Piet were out of the equation.  If he was like Riley, would that make it easier?”  Wanda asked.

I wiped my eyes.  “I think mostly.  I think if I didn’t have to worry about Piet I’d say yes.”  I said.  “It’s just…”

“What is it, princess?”  Sam asked.

“You guys chose me because I was just a normal person.  If this makes me immortal and gives me powers, then I won’t be who you wanted.”

“Oh, Elly,”  Sam said putting his plate down.  He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my temple tenderly.  “We love you for what’s in here -” he tapped my chest and then my forehead.  “- and in here.  That’s much more than just you being a regular person.  There are billions of regular people in the world.  There’s only one you.”

I swallowed and nodded, trying not to completely break down.

“We love you, El.  And Thor loves you and wants to keep you forever.  He hasn’t even asked me to bond with him.”  Sam said.

“You need him to ask?”  I said.

“It would be nice.  I dunno.  Maybe I don’t need it because if you and Wanda do, and Nat, Steve, and Buck already are going to basically live forever, I would stick around for all of you, but it would be nice if Thor let me know he wanted me too.”

“That makes sense.  I totally get that.  I told him I thought he loved us like people loved dogs.”  I said.  “He needs to show you all that you aren’t just friends-with-benefits to him.”

Sam let out a breath.  “Yeah.  ‘Cause I do love him.”

Riley climbed off the chair and toddled over and climbed into Sam’s lap.  “Did you eat, bug?”  Sam asked.

“Yes, daddy.”  She practically snarked.

“What was that?”  Sam said, trying not to laugh.  “Was that sarcasm?”

I laughed.  “Sounded like it.”

“My goodness,” Sam said.  “Such an advanced three-year-old.”

I got up and stretched.  “I might go take a bath.  You two okay with the kids?”  I asked.

“I think we can handle it,” Sam said.

I headed into the bathroom and ran the water.  I had just let my slip fall to the floor when Loki barged into the room.

“Loki!” I squawked, grabbing the slip and pulling it back up.

He waved me off dismissively.  “You have nothing I haven’t seen thousands of times before.”

I rolled my eyes.  “What do you want?”

“The reason you have been unable to decide about the bonding is because of Pietro, correct?”  He asked.

“Yes.  Mostly because of Pietro.”  I agreed.

“I found the book I had been looking for.”  He said.  “There is something called the Golden Apple.  The Goddess Idunn oversees them on Alfheim.  The apple can grant longevity to whoever eats it.”

I froze and looked up into Loki’s eyes.  “This is a real thing?  You can find it?”

“I assure you it is real.  I have sent an envoy to Alfheim.”  Loki said.  “The child will have to be of age and make the decision himself, but he has the choice.  Is that enough for you?”

“I just… this… I don’t…”  I babbled.

Loki rolled her eyes. “Use your words.”

“This changes everything.”

“You’ll agree to the bonding then?”

I took a deep breath and nodded, shifting on my feet.  “Loki.  Can I hug you?”

“What do I get out of it?”  Loki asked.

“You can tell me your terms as I hug you,” I said, taking a step forward.  He opened his arms up and I moved into them, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head against his chest as he closed his arms around me.  “No stabbing me either.”

Loki chuckled.  “I did not do this for you, you know?”

I nodded against his chest.  “I know.”

“Call off your attack spider would you.  She keeps making comments about me having feelings.”  Loki said.

I giggled.  “Done and done.”  I pulled back and looked up at him. “Thank you.”

“Now, would you please tell my brother ‘yes’ so he can stop bothering me?”  He said.

“I will.  Let me wash up first.”

Loki went to the door and paused.  “If anyone is looking for me, I’ll be having sex.  I’m taking Fandral with me.  I haven’t had any since you were attacked and that is unusual.”

“Aww Loki, you do have feelings.”  I teased.

He smirked.  “I will stab you.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Go on then. Get laid.  When I see you again I promise I’ll have said yes to Thor.”

He nodded and left and I took my bath.  I rushed a little as I wanted to go and speak to Thor and tell him what Loki had said.  When I was clean I wrapped myself in a robe and took the potion from Sif who was back to guarding the door with Volstagg.  I went into my room where Thor, Steve, Bucky, Clint, Tony, Natasha, and Bruce were all sleeping in a tangled pile of limbs.  Feet were in faces and people were clinging to each other.  It was quite funny to look at.

I changed into a fresh gown and went and sat next to Thor and shook him a little.  “Thor?”  He opened his eyes and squinted at me.  “Here, my love,” I said holding the bottle to his lips.

He blinked a few times before starting to drink.  After a few swallows of the liquid, he lay back down and I put the stopper back into the bottle and put it down.

“Mmm, thank you, mea vida.”  He said.  He rubbed my hip slowly and sat up.  “I feel much better.”

“You’re welcome, my love,” I said, leaning over and kissing him.  He hummed softly and pulled me a little closer to him.

“Thor,”  I said pulling back.  “Loki found something.”

“What is it?”  He said, sitting up straighter and looking a little more alert.

“He found a book.  It has information about a fruit that grants the person who eats it longevity.”  I explained.

“What?”

“It’s guarded by a goddess.  Iona?  Isola?  I forget. He has a book.”

“Okay.  So Pietro will have his own choice?”  Thor asked.

“Yes,” I said and put my hand on his.  “Ask me.”

Thor tilted his head and looked me over for a moment.  He nodded and got up kneeling on the ground in front of me and taking my hand.  “Elise, my life, will you bond with me?”

“Yes, I will,” I said.

He smiled and got up pulling me into his arms and kissing me deeply.  I melted into him, letting him hold my weight.

“We will have to start the preparations.  You need a gown.”  Thor said as he pulled back.

“Thor, there’s one more thing,” I said.

He tilted his head and looked at me with concern.  “That doesn’t sound good.”

I gave his hand a squeeze.  “You need to propose to them.  And when you do you need to explain it.  All they have heard is the not quite clear version of events from me.  Bucky and Steve will do it regardless.  Tony and I will too because we were there.  The others you need to at least speak to and make them know what this means and that you want it with them.”

“Oh,” Thor said softly.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded and sat back down on the bed.  I sat beside him and he curled up, putting his head on my lap. “I didn’t realize how closed off I was being with them. It hurts to know they don’t know how I feel.”

I stroked his hair and massaged the back of your neck.  “We all love you. But it has been hard because we don’t see you often, and when we do you try and be the strong happy man who has nothing to worry about.  Time to change that and now’s your chance.  Be honest with them.  But more importantly, ask them.  Make sure they know you want this with them.”

“I will.  When everyone is awake I will propose.”  He said.

“Good,” I said and rubbed his chest.  “You are loved, Thor.  Don’t doubt that.  I want to spend as much of the next 5000 years as I possibly can, Thor. ”

Thor smiled softly.  “I want that too.”

I leaned down and kissed him and he made a contented rumbling noise against my lips.  We were starting a new chapter as of now and I wasn’t scared at all anymore.

// NEXT

[edorazzi]

Well, here we are again! Twitter said yes to a review post for a Miraculous magazine that suddenly showed up in my local area. ‘Tis the season after all, and by that I mean someone bought it for me as a joke birthday gift and I was way too happy about that.

I’ve done previous reviews of the Miraculous Christmas calendar, Easter egg set, superhero fashion dolls and action figures, so let’s dive into the unknown world of merchandising yet again!

(As always, if you enjoy my posts, please consider checking out my Twitter page or supporting me on Patreon for lots of bonus content!)

4 FREE GIFTS! PACKED WITH ACTIVITIES! MEET THE KWAMIS! PRANKS & LOLS! CUT-OUT MEMES! FANGIRL ALERT! NAIL ART! 100% OFFICIAL! I’m overwhelmed! It feels like I’m having a seizure just from the packaging!!! 

I should preface this by saying I haven’t bought a magazine like this in years. Possibly ever. I read things like the Beano, Animals & You and the odd Disney Princess zine when I was a kid but I have no idea what to expect from a free-gift-packed kiddie magazine in 2019. If the outside is anything to go by we’re in for a wild ride.

I’m noticing that it says “Miraculous #20″ on the back. Does this mean I’ve missed 19 previous issues? I’m genuinely a little upset by that. My local area is a complete dry zone for Miraculous so I haven’t had the chance to pick these up.

First step: let’s separate everything out and get a look at these freeeee giftssss. Except they aren’t free, because this magazine was like £3.99. This does seem to be the current trend - it’s kinda rare to see any kids’ zines without the excess packaging crammed with ‘free’ stuff. Is it really too expensive to just produce the magazine? Probably, in this economy.

Chat Noir is revealed on the cover! He was on the back of the plastic jacket, but it’s still nice to see the kids as a front-cover duo. Apparently we’re going to learn to draw Pollen, too, which sounds fun. I’m actually liking the look of the gifts as well, but we’ll get into those in a minute.

This hairbrush............. is adorable. Oh my god. It’s pretty cheap and flimsy but it functions the way it’s supposed to, and the Ladybug design has been taken into account in a better way than “it’s red/black, that counts” (lest we forget the UTTER BULLSHIT of the Christmas calendar, and YES I’m still mad about that). I don’t know how well I expect the outer sticker to last, but if it can take a bit of wear and tear this would be an adorable little travel brush. Nicely done, lads!

These nail stickers? Also adorable. They remind me of the kiddie makeup sets I had when I was little, back in the early 00s when plastic stick-on nails and decals were all the rage. Are they still a thing? That’s nice to know.

There are 13 designs (that I can count) - a Queen Bee mask, Chat Noir pawprint cake, macaron, cupcake, heart-print cookie, Ladybug stud, flower, lightning bolt, love heart, Marinette heart, bee, fox tail and star. The majority are directly related to the show and that makes them feel special. No Carapace though? :(

I’ve put a little Marinette heart on my furthest finger. At the time of typing this up (about a day later) it’s still firmly in place. I haven’t really knocked it around, granted, but it’s not flimsy enough to fall off after five minutes either. It’s also really cute to look at. Guess I’m still a decal-loving 2004 girl at heart......

These stickers though!!! Wow! They’re those holographic and slightly-puffy kind and they feel like pretty good quality, and the designs are so cute! I can’t fault these, they’re absolutely adorable. I immediately want to stick them everywhere.

So I’ve stuck them everywhere. I’m especially proud of the light switch pun. My room looks GREAT.

I saved these “mystery stickers” for last because I’m weak for the thrill of mystery bags, and there wasn’t anything on the packaging to indicate what kind of designs to expect. And OH!!!! OH, IT’S MY BOY!!!! Look at him!!!! 

I made jokes with the Christmas calendar about all the Chat Noir items being stolen ahead of time, but that’s definitely NOT the case with this magazine. I have been SPOILED with the presence of my cat son.

These stickers are similar to the sticker sheet (and the Chillin’ Out design is reprinted), but they’re puffier and non-holographic. I’m deeply allured by the “decorate your phone or tablet” suggestion on the packet, but I’m going to see how the previous stickers withstand the wear-and-tear of my laptop lid before adding any more. If I damage these beautiful Adrien stickers I’ll be devastated.

Those are our free gifts! They’re actually very fun and cute, I’m really happy with them! I guess now it’s time to get into the magazine itself...........

I genuinely almost forgot the magazine was the main part of this package. I figured I was done, but we’ve barely even started! Here’s a splash page of the kwami. Kwami with a capital K? Kwamis? I still feel like it should be singular-lower-case-k-kwami. I’ve never been happy about this “miraculouses” business either.

But is that--

It IS!!!! It’s Nino!!! 

I guess this is the new flavour of Miraculous tie-ins. Now they’ve broadened out to a full team we’re seeing a lot more of Adrien alongside the girls, and Nino is the elusive hero who shows up once in a blue moon. At least this time his name isn’t in the title of the gotdam show.......

Anyway, I can see I’m supposed to draw my “fave Kwami”. Better get to it.

Felix just wants a break. Just one break. But not in this magazine.

Speaking of seeing more of Adrien (and, tragically, less of Nino), this is the kind of splash page I want to see! Both kids are here! The banner themed with Marinette’s signature flowers is a nice touch too; that’s associated with her arts ‘n’ crafts in the show already and it makes sense to apply it to the creative portion of this magazine too.

I LOVE the promotion of Chat Noir nails as something the little girls buying this magazine will definitely want to try. I’d expect them to do Marinette vs Ladybug nails, but instead we get a boyish option! Hell yeah!

I’m a little confused by the Queen Bee masks apparently going on the Chat Noir nails though. I guess they’re friends? Is this secret AdriChlo confirmation? Watch out, Marinette, Kagami’s not the one to be worried about.

SURE WOULD BE NICE TO HAVE SOME TURTLE STICKERS FOR AN ALL-BOYS THEME BUT I GUESS NOT HUH

Next up is a short merch catalogue (why would you put the big bold arrow pointing right to the underoos.....). Would those Chat Noir socks come in my size? Asking for me.

Then there’s......... this page. FANGIRL ALERT. God. It’s like the Ladyblog, if only the Ladyblog ever gave a heck about reporting what Chat Noir’s up to.

THE SPELL WAS BROKEN AND THE FANDOM IMPLODED WITH JOY.

I really have to wonder what age range this is meant for. Do kids know what a “fandom” is? Do little girls consider themselves “fangirls”? I guess most kids have enough internet access to figure it out these days (all the hashtags and LOLs and memes speak volumes), but I can’t imagine being young enough to fit the target range of this magazine while also knowing these terms. I dunno.

(Also, the definition of ‘implosion’ is ‘an instance of something collapsing violently inwards’, so I’m not sure that’s the word they’re looking for. Unless the return to the status quo in Dark Cupid and the continuing stagnation of the love square was enough to make people quit in frustration? Probably.)

I’m filling it in, of course. Because I must.

I gave up on the pre-approved ratings system pretty much right away, but I think this is an accurate rating of my LadyNoir opinions. 

I might be kinda cynical about it here, but I am actually pretty fond of how this magazine sells Ladybug and Chat Noir as a couple. The show’s portraying it as very onesided lately, with Chat pining over Ladybug who has absolutely no interest in him (Glaciator was a TERRIBLE episode and I’m still hurting from it), but reading this zine I’d guess they were already dating. It’s cheesy, but in a nice way.

I have to laugh at “the most amazing thing about this super duo is that they always look out for and protect each other” though. Chat’s usually pretty focused on LB, sure, but there are endless instances of LB using Chat as cannon fodder and just generally abandoning him to get mauled by akuma while she carries out her personal private plan to save the day. Maybe we’re just focusing on the better-written episodes, huh?

Moving ahead. I’ve been dreading this page since reading “Plaggs Pranks & LOLs” on the back of the packaging. I feel hatred in my very bones just looking at it.

I like that there’s ONE instance of the term “ladybird” in the joke column. This is a UK-based magazine and that IS the word we tend to use over here - “ladybug” is an Americanism - but it’s like they’re worried kids could have got to the middle of this magazine about a superhero named Ladybug and then not understand the bug jokes. Maybe whoever was writing this page slipped up?

OH NOOOOO. MARINETTE, NOOOOOOOOOO.

THIS IS WHY FELIX GOT RID OF YOU, PLAGG. THESE ARE ADRIEN’S PROBLEMS NOW.

(mmm whatcha saaaaay)

I mean........... YEAH, I guess, but we absolutely did see Plagg destroy Felix with an entire shelf of heavy books. I guess he’s nicer with Adrien. It’s all fun and games until someone has a nervous breakdown in the library.

I do love the concept of Tikki getting glitter-bombed by Plagg through the mail. She just curiously opens up the little letter which got slipped into Marinette’s purse, and-- WOOSH. One entire wall of Mari’s room is glittery except for a little Tikki-shaped silhouette. 

Next up is a two-page comic which is absolutely adorable! Look at those little chibis! The warm and soft colour palette! This is nicer than most of the official Miraculous comic book art I’ve seen, I hope they keep giving this artist work.

Nino’s here too (and he looks great!), and I like the touch of Marinette and Adrien playing as each other’s superhero characters. Adrien even wins the match, though I guess there’s something to be said about Ladybug beating Chat Noir (again)...... 

It does raise the question yet again of where this tie-in merchandise is coming from! They’ve had action figures, a movie, music video features, now an arcade game... Who’s getting the royalties here? Who’s profiting? Is this how Fu can afford to buy all those rare ingredients for the magic potions?

Over the page we have an activity to Design your Secret Lair! Right away I love the Marinette theme of the page, the soft pink and flowers, and the drawing space looking like a page in a binder with marker tabs and everything.

I have to design my secret lair, of course: 

What do you think? I’m very creative. I’ll need an adult to send in the drawing of my hideout but I think I’ve really got a shot at those unicorn headphones.

Now we’re on to puzzles and character pages. I don’t know what ol’ Gabe is doing trying to meet a 13 year old girl in the dead of night without telling anyone, you’d think if he’s got that much free time on his hands he could be spending it with his son.

I don’t know how those points in Ladybug’s power profile are awarded or what they mean, but you can tell this is a fan magazine. Official sources would have put her at a 10.

Standard House of Villains page! Most of these were good episodes but I’m deeply offended Riposte isn’t on here. Maybe her motives weren’t dramatic and cartoonish enough to be up in the ranks with Glaciator and Gorizilla?

“Cat Noir’s dad is also the evil Hawk Moth”, huh? I mean that’s not WRONG, but is it really something to put in his power profile when Adrien doesn’t even know yet??? Feels like we’re kinda jumping the gun on the poor boy. What if he picks up this magazine?

Apparently he’s one point weaker than Ladybug (seriously???), two points faster, equally as agile, one point less skilled and two points less cool. Despite all those lesses he still comes out at an equal 9, which is a relief! These kids are a team, putting either of them below the other would have been a big no.

I did the colouring page too, naturally. Je suis un artiste.

Now we’ve got a page fresh from the Ladyblog, a Miraculous quiz! Not a lot of excitement, but it’s nice to see Alya getting her own section.

I like that the qualifications of “you could be Ladybug herself!” are knowing what city Marinette lives in and what school she goes to. Well done, Mari! You’re doing your best!!!

TEACHER I AM SO HUNGRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

I gotta say, I’m not so sure about decorating donuts with fondant. I’ve never tried it so I could be wrong, but it feels like rolled icing instead of frosting(?) would be too heavy for an entire donut. The texture is totally different.

I mean I guess if you’re going to load your kids up on sugar you might as well go all the way. They’re going to look like they’ve eaten something horrible with all that black fondant, but they’ll have fun. Adrien would love these.

WHERE’S NINO. THIS IS JUST UNFAIR. You’ll have four out of five heroes, then a double of Marinette and Tikki? Maybe this just goes to show how little memorable dialogue Carapace has.

Though if “Spots On!” is Marinette’s dialogue and not Ladybug’s, why are the other transformation phrases attributed to Rena Rouge and Queen Bee instead of Alya and Chloé? Surely they could have picked something better for Marinette to justify having her on this list twice instead of Nino.

The next page brings us one of those flowchart quizzes! And ouch, yet again the absence of the other heroes is obvious. I can understand not including Chloé here since she’s technically not a “friendly” character yet, but no Nino? Alya and Marinette are close friends, but Adrien doesn’t really hang out with them without Nino around. Having the three of them together just seems strange.

I do like the little fashion page! They’re all cute and affordable and easy to find on the high street here. I’d love to see how other issues of this magazine are structured; is there a different fashion spot every time? Styles to channel each individual hero would be adorable.

Moving on to a tutorial for a Ladybug notebook! I would have made this, but I didn’t have the time nor a notebook to stick it to.

Between this and the donuts, it seems weird that these designs are based on, like... an actual beetle, eyes and antennae and all. Shouldn’t it be Ladybug’s symbol? These come across more like “fun animals” arts ‘n’ crafts instead of themed after Miraculous specifically. I think if I made this (or decorated the donuts) I’d miss out the head and match the spot pattern to Ladybug’s symbol. 

The hidden message design is adorable though. I can see this being a craft kids are super proud of.

Another activity page! I didn’t have a go at these but they’re pretty standard. It’s cute that the coded message designs are the same as the stickers and nail decals!

Also, apparently Ladybug’s ‘secret’ is “LB mask + heart + CN mask”, which was (somehow) stolen by Volpina. Is that the secret Hawk Moth was talking about earlier in the magazine? Is he blackmailing Ladybug with revealing she has a crush on Chat Noir? How did Volpina ‘steal’ this secret? Is LadyNoir finally reciprocated???? THIS IS A WHOLE EPISODE IN ITSELF, I NEED ANSWERS--

Next page we have an ad for another girly magazine (Quizzes! LOLs! Celebs! Cringes! Puzzles!). I think I’ll pass, no matter how appealing that giant microphone pen is. 

And a “Miraculous Identity” quiz! Tikki’s apparently super fickle with her wielders, three seasons of relentlessly praising Marinette and now she’s telling us we’re the Chosen Ones. You can’t fool me with those big ol’ eyes.

My inner superhero is Marvellous Fox, by the way. Though yet again I’m noticing we don’t have turtle options...................

And on the back cover... the memes. Oh, sweet lord, the memes. They’re hashtag-SoRelatable! And I can cut them out to keep! Oh boy!!!

Is this what kids do when they have limited internet access? Cut fresh memes out of magazines and carry them around? I need to know.

That’s a very sinister Ladybug at the bottom of the page though. What’s-- What’s she going to do to me if I don’t cut out and keep these memes. Ladybug what are you going to do if I d--

Well that brings us to the end of the magazine! And yet again I’m surprised by how much time it takes to just put a bunch of photos together and write about them.

This is a neat little magazine all in all! The ‘free gifts’ are pretty nice, there’s a fair amount of content and the whole thing is pretty cute for young fans of the show. I could see myself buying this again - if it ever shows up on shelves, Miraculous is so scarce around here that I fully expect it to disappear again after this one issue - just for the free junk, but it would be interesting to see how they’d structure different issues too!

I notice we never did get that promised tutorial on how to draw Pollen; the one advertised on the cover. Was the “draw your favourite Kwami” activity supposed to cover that? I’m not sure that really counts.

If you got this far, thanks for joining me on this Miraculous journey! We’ll meet again whenever I get another piece of weird ML merch to cover. Bien joué!

[chezzkaa]

Numb pt 2

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Lumberjack AU

Pairing: Ryan Haywood x Reader

WC: 1900+

You and Jeremy stare at one another, trying to find familiar footing after disappearing from each other’s lives for 2 years. His smile is the same, beard the familiar close and clean trim as it had always been, and the glint in his eyes still sparkles with the upturn of his lips. And yet he’s somehow broader than you remember, which is saying something, considering his usual build that sees his shoulders going on for miles. The coat only adds, thick and bulky, fur trim sweeping his jawline. But he doesn’t look at you any differently, no accusations or prying questions, none of the hatred you expect and deserve. Standing before you isn’t a man you’ve wronged, but a childhood friend eager for your next adventure. But guilt taints the warm joy you’ve been wearing all day, lower lip pulled between nervous teeth.

Sensing your discomfort, he waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t even think about it.”

“About what?”

“Apologising.” He smiles, expression brimming with forgiveness and a sense of understanding you’ve never been able to fully comprehend. He bustles to your side, brushing your hands from the cart and taking over, pushing it towards Geoff - who isn’t thrilled to see him again. You follow close behind. Drunk on nostalgia. Broken on history.

He throws a curious glance back at you, his joy overwhelming and cheeks a rosy pink. “So what’re you doing in Motbury? The mountains are pretty far from the city.”

You shrug, making a face and a vague hand gesture. “Figured it was time for a change of scenery. Besides, I’ve always liked the mountains.”

“Wait a minute. You’ve been stationed up here, haven’t you?” He’s eager. Eyes wide and he’s practically bouncing. Geoff wills him to stop from behind the counter, fearful of the items spanning the station. Tattooed fingers protect the goods like cages, gaze critical of the small officer. “You have! God, please tell me this means we get to work together again? I could even get you a desk by mine, if you’d like. Because, get this Y/N, there’s this case that’s-”

A cautionary and firm hand stops his excitement, as well as his potential to destroy anything else. Geoff throws you a thankful look, and you return it with a smile. But Jeremy continues to tremble, ready to explode, bubble bursting as soon as you speak. “I’m not with the force anymore.”

His mouth falls open with an audible pop, appalled and yet still somehow managing to stack your groceries on the counter. Geoff has to catch a few to stop them rolling, but does his best to avoid another casualty. “What?!”

“I quit not long after you left.”

“Quit? Y/N,” his tone turns serious, accompanied with the gentle beep of scanned items. You budge Jeremy out of the way, beginning to load up your purchases with more haste and consistency while he continues to gawp. “You’re the best detective I know. Best in the country. How could you give it all up?”

“Was,” you correct with a smile only visible to the milk cartons you unload, “but I appreciate it.”

“You’ve wanted to be a detective ever since you were a kid.”

You hold back the urge to take him by the shoulders and shake, instead chewing the inside of your cheek until blood cleanses the bitterness from your tongue. “I changed my mind.”

He can’t fathom it. Wrestling with empty hands, he tries to force the air into something he can understand. “But what’ve you been doing for 2 years?”

Shrugging, your mood cools with the dipping of the sun, clouds scattered with purples and deep blues. The store hums with the glow of yellowed bulbs, reflecting against the glass windows plastered with advertisements and missing persons posters. “I taught an arts and crafts class for the local primary schools every Tuesday.”

He hesitates in the face of something so uncharacteristically vulnerable, your words heavy in his restless palms. “Y/N, what happened?”

“You know what happened.”

He doesn’t speak immediately, face falling at your sharpness. Still, he finds his voice eventually. “We all have one case that-”

“I’ve moved on,” you interject rather forcefully, shooting him what you hope doesn’t come across as a glare. He drops into silence, shuffling his feet. “I do other things now, J. Creative things that don’t involve me diving too deep into a murder mystery.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t indulge, just a little? It could be inspirational if you really think about it. You’d love this case, Y/N. It’s got your kinda creepy written all over it. You could always-”

“Jeremy, I can’t. Not again.” You consider asking him to pick his pouting bottom lip up off the floor as you swipe your card, feeling his disappointment pool by you feet. Not for your reluctance, but rather for his vain hope of working together again. For his unanswered prayers, because you’re still not okay. You’d be lying if you didn’t wish for one more day like the old ones, and naive if you think it could be as easy as it once was. “But I really appreciate the offer. We can be friends, rather than colleagues. I’ve got some time to make up.”

He nods sullenly, shuffling his feet and glancing outside to scowl at the sound of a car horn blaring. He motions half heartedly to Michael, who’s gesturing rather forcefully to his watch. “Well, what if I introduce you to the townsfolk sometime? I know everyone in Motbury, and all the best spots.”

“I’d like that,” you admit over the exclamation of another impatient honk, pushing Jeremy’s shoulder and urging him to leave. “You’ve still got my number? It hasn’t changed.” He nods shortly, squaring his shoulders and preparing for a goodbye that won’t last nearly as long as the last one. “Good. Get going Inspector, your partner looks pissed.”

“He’s always pissed,” beams Jeremy, taking large bounds towards the door and yelling profanities out of it. He’s about to leave when he stops, taking in a deep breath and turning back to you. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

The sincerity in his eyes hurts, face softened with unimaginable relief. “I’m really happy to see you.”

And then he’s gone, out the door and racing after the patrol car that tries to drive away without him, cackling laughter erupting from the vehicle he eventually manages to clamber into. You watch him go, rooted in place. It is good to see him; to find him at a point in life where he’s got it together and doing far better than you. If he can find a home in this town, pick up the pieces of the life you’d both smashed down, hell, so can you.

“Every time he comes in here something always breaks,” sighs Geoff, resting on his elbows and watching the two officers disappear into the snow. “But he’s a good kid.” Another pass of his hand over his hair, face worn and eyes returning to you. “Probably the best thing that’s ever happened to this town.”

“He’s always been a good detective.”

“By the sounds of it,” Geoff muses, offering you a biscuit from beneath the register, “so were you. I’m not gonna intrude, but I trust that man’s judgement. Whatever happened, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”

Clearly intending his words to be more of a comfort than an inconvenience, Geoff visibly struggles with your silence. Then his expression brightens. “You said you like working with kids?”

He’s observant, you’ll give him that. Arguably those Tuesday nights covered in glitter glue and paint had kept you going, the children’s joy making your own life a little lighter. A little easier. He must know that, lips quirking as though he’s seen it all before. “I do,” you reply, almost a little too eagerly.

He nods. “It’s a bit sudden I guess, but you seem alright. On Thursday afternoons the local community garden holds arts and crafts for the kids. I help out with my friend, Jack, who runs the project. Sometimes the scrawny fuck that works here joins in, but that’s always up in the air. We’ve been trying to get Mr. policeman to visit - kids love the damn car - but he was too busy today. That’s why he came in and broke everything I own.”

��Are you looking for volunteers?”

He smiles, a big toothy grin that wipes away all instances of age. “Why would I look for any more volunteers when just I’ve found you?”

 ---

 It’s got to be the 5th time you’ve typed out the text to your best friend, different variations all sounding forced. Still, looking at it, it’s the best you’ve got. And nestled in a small alcove, shielded from the snow and warm glow of streetlights, you press send.

Y/N: Moving went well and shopping all done. About to take it home.

You don’t bother putting your phone away, knowing the reply will arrive before you slide the device into your pocket. Instead you pull out a pen, working small curves and sharp lines across a the portion of skin lining the top of your hand just beneath your thumb. With the black ink of a sigil leaking sticky you start to calm, stress leaching away with every repetition of ‘Everything is going to be okay’ that passes through your head. Your eyes drift closes, each breath bringing in the cold, stinging night until you’re drowsy. The reply doesn’t surprise you, but it drags your eyes open.

Lauren: Congrats!! How’s the new place?

Y/N: Bigger than I thought it would be. Lots of room. It’s gonna be a busy few days. Can’t find most of my herbs or spell books.

Lauren: Once the guys get there you’ll be able to take a break.

Lauren: Trevor says your herbs are in the box labeled kitchen junk. Same with your smudge sticks. Dunno about the spell books though. Have you tried things labelled storage?

Y/N: Doubt it haha. And thanks, I’ll look when I get home. How’s the prep work for them going?

Lauren: Dunno about Alfredo, but Trevor’s suitcase is done.

Lauren: I had to pack it.

Lauren: you should’ve seen it, Y/N. He’s a disgrace.

Y/N: He’s lucky to have you.

Lauren: You bet your ass he is.

Lauren: Stop stalling and go home. Soon as you’re done with the groceries you can pass out.

Y/N: God that sounds nice. It’s been a day.

Lauren: Did something else happen?

Lauren: Y/N?

Lauren: You okay?

Y/N: Yeah. Ran into Jeremy.

Lauren: JEREMY? As in, Jeremy from ex work Jeremy?

Y/N: Yup.

Lauren: Are you ok though?

Y/N: Yeah, I’m okay. He seems happy here, which is nice.

Lauren: I’m glad. That whole situation was fucked up

Y/N: You’re telling me

Lauren: You okay?

Lauren: Bad memories?

Y/N: More hopeful than anything. If he can get past that case, so can I.

Lauren: It wasn’t as hard for him though. He didn’t feel it.

Lauren: You wanna talk about her?

Y/N: Not at all. I’ve gotta get these groceries home. I’ve been sat in this snowbank for the past 20 minutes working on a sigil. I want to get some charms set up tonight as well.

Lauren: Good luck dude.

Lauren: Keep me updated on moving.

Lauren: And any hot guys.

Lauren: Mostly the hot guys though.

Lauren: But your mental state too, I guess.

 ---

 The trip back takes far longer. Weighed down with bags and the surprises of the day. You trudge through the snow now that the sun’s settled. Darkness greets you on the doorstep, orange lights singing from the lanterns that cling to the dark wooden beams. Numb hands wrestle the key into the lock, a vicious chill tearing your scarf away. Shouldering in, you heave the groceries to the floor, letting tins scatter and produce roll. Exhausted, begging to fall to your knees and let the draining day finally take you, you turn back to the garden.

No longer does the sun share it’s light, moon dusting generous servings of silver across the landscape. A right foot forward and you’re descending the steps, body dunked in the night’s cold embrace. No birds sing, and the gentle creaking of trees is all that fills the silence. If you focus, you swear you can hear the snow fall. Another step and you’re sitting on damp, freezing wood, staring at the property line. Nothingness stares back. Barren and empty. Lonely, with no one to wave to the branches swaying for attention. Not even an animal to dance between the trunks, no confident tails or pricked ears. Only a world letting out tired breaths, seconds buried in the white grace falling lazily from the sky.

And you smile, stand, and retrieve your scarf before closing the door. 

[it-refused]

replies for comments on the retirement home story!

tabascosugar said: 

Those last four sentences, man! Such fantastic mood whiplash. XD

Poor, poor Grillby.  He has to deal with moving to a new place when he doesn’t want to, really, and now he ALSO has to deal with Sans being his friend.

@gossyreblogs reblogged this from it-refused:

#omfg sans marshmallows seriously??#wow#in all seriousness though#this whole thing makes me happy#I'm really glad you decided to explore the setting a bit more because this is great#I don't know why but stories actually focusing on older people and their continuing lives tend to lie close to my heart#it's not that they can exactly hit close to home I'm not even 21 yet but#something#they're important okay and I'm always glad to see more of them in the world# mean I guess I have (and have had) family members in these situations and I care about them#and I know (hope that) I'll be there too eventually#and I grew up reading Discworld which kind of undermines the 'young and virile protagonist' mold in several cases#so it's not exactly a *mystery*#I actually honestly have to wonder why this stage of life isn't explored more thoroughly in fiction to my knowledge#I mean we certainly seem to have a morbid fascination with exploring our mortality on plenty of other fronts#and with *defying* our mortality or searching for the life and joy in spite of it on several other fronts#but less so on this one...? for some reason...?

Stories like that are kind of around, but hard to find?  Somehow I ended up reading a lot of stuff with older people having fulfilling and exciting lives when I was a kid, but it was still a drop in the bucket compared to the other stuff I read.  My mother reads a lot of books in the uh mystery cozy genre (that’s what she calls them?), so they were always around growing up and i would read anything around, and there were a lot of them about older people who were solving mysteries.  They were divorced or widowed, usually.  There was one where the main character was a woman who had been a guy’s mistress in a long term affair for a large portion of her life, which is an interesting and morally complicated character to have as your lead.  Maybe Miss Marple opened the gate for stories about older people in the mystery genre?  I dunno.  I also watched “Waiting for God” and “As Time Goes By” as a kid and both of those had romances involving older people, which is probably where I started to find it so romantic to tell stories about people not giving up on living their lives and finding new love even at what is considered to be the end.

Anyway, I’m very happy that you’re enjoying it!  I wrote a bit more of this thing a couple days ago, but I’m trying to decide right now if I want to see if I can finish it up (i don’t want it to be super long) before I post any more.

@twixtandshout said: 

“It’s worth making up for lost time.” *immediately starts roasting marshmallows on the poor guy*

Think of all the pranks he missed out on getting to play!  He has to get started making up for those lost years!

@asexualchemist said: 

;__; *is mostly stuck on the “they could have been friends way earlier”-thing* T_T

Yeah :( In this fic, they both had very full lives with lots of friends and family, but...

It would’ve actually been interesting too if I wrote this so that they were good friends all these years, but there’s no escaping that having them get together at this age means they missed out on years of time they could have spent together romantically.  Always going to be a little sad.

sesurescue reblogged this from it-refused:

#Wholesome <3#And a little sad#Love it though <3

Thank you!  And thank you for all the nice comments on my undyne prompt fills this week.  You’re so sweet!  

@pointless-pencil reblogged this from it-refused:

#I love this

Thank you so much!  And thank you for leaving comments on other stuff I’ve written.  It’s always very encouraging!

[omg-powelljones-stuff]

Happy Birthday to my Lovely Sister – Aramide Helen Elizabeth Ayodele 

Wishing a spectacularly joyful and magical birthday to my phenomenally beautiful and loving sister. I couldn’t have asked for a more phenomenal sister. You’re the best, sis!

Hey, Sister Let me flaunt you to the world because you’re the most important person in my life. I celebrate you today on your birthday. You’re the most wonderful I’ve met and I’m lucky to have you in my life. May God bless your birthday with all goodness and sweetness you want and make you happy all through. 

“It’s great to know that you’re more than just my sister. You’re my best friend, too. Through good times and bad – whenever I really need you – you’ve always been there. I’ll always be there for you, too.

Growing up with you brought so many memories of fun, silly, and even crazy times. While that time may have passed, we are sure to have more of the same as we continue to grow older. Here’s to making more memories!

You mean the world to me and I have engraved your name on my heart. I’ve been convinced beyond doubt that you love me more than yourself. I celebrate you, especially today. May God give you all your heart desires. Blessings, favor, joy, love, peace, and a long life in good health will be your portion. I’m glad to have you.

I feel like painting the skies your name and blowing a loud trumpet because it’s your special day. I dunno what I did to deserve such a perfect sister as you. I’m indeed very lucky to have you. Enjoy all the goodness and sweetness the day has to offer, you deserve it, my friend. Happy birthday to you. Many more years dear.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

It’s been 365 days of God’s faithfulness. Through ups and down you’re still standing darling. Congratulations on your birthday. I pray today will open the doors to your breakthrough. Everything you want will be divinely released to you. Happy birthday to you, Sis. Enjoy many more years of good health and unlimited blessings.

“My childhood would have been boring without you, sister. You’ve always been my best friend over the years. Thank you for all of the awesome times we’ve shared, and the awesome times to come. Happy birthday!”

“If I were rich, I’d hire a plane and have the words “Happy Birthday Sister” written in the sky. Seeing as I’m not quite that rich yet, please accept my humble birthday wishes.”

“All the money, treasures, fortune and jewels in the word could never amount to the love, kindness, and care you’ve shown me. Happy birthday, sister.”

  Happy Birthday, Sister

Happy Birthday, Sister!!! Wishing a spectacularly joyful and magical birthday to my phenomenally beautiful and loving sister. I couldn’t have asked for a more phenomenal sister.

[crookedprogeny]

interruptions

      “My name is Dashiel Mycroft O’Neill Holmes,” Dash begins. There’s a flutter of notebooks as the chatter in his Intro to Philosophy lecture dissipates. Several sets of eyes are attentive, even enthused. Most are indifferent. Dash takes a tally and vows, silently, to reverse the statistic by semester’s end. “My friends call me Dash. As you are not my friends, Professor O’ will do nicely.” A few students chuckle; Dash shrugs, matter-of-fact.

      “I have one PhD in Philosophy, and another in Classics. I’m working on a third in Linguistics, not so I can brag but because I get bored. I’ve written two books and am in the process of publishing a third. The first I wrote from my death bed with my then girlfriend, now wife. If ever you wish me dead for all the hours of work I assign, I suggest you give it a read.” Now a smattering of laughter ripples through the hall, most of it nervous.

      “What else,” Dash muses, but decides to press on. “I tell you all of this neither to intimidate you, nor demand your respect. I plan to earn your respect. And I find intimidation something so subjective I’ve given up trying to control it. No, I tell you all of this because Philosophy is an intensely personal undertaking. However rational a route its pundits have attempted. If I don’t start our class with some intimate detail about myself, how can I expect you–”

The monologue dies in Dashiel’s throat. At the top of the lecture hall stands his brother. The chunk of the door had registered moments prior, but Dash had, as he so often does, ignored it. Only the one through the door hadn’t been a tardy student, it’d been his brother, who now stands, swaying, at the top of the stairs.

Dash starts forward. Murmurs erupt through his class; all heads at the top of the hall, nearest Connor, swivel. One student stands, some instinct driving him to either protect those around or leap to Connor’s aid. As an atmosphere of intense paranoia ratchets the crowd into a clamor, Dash assumes the former. “Stay calm,” he calls, holding up a hand, palm out. His other palm, developing a slight tremor, smooths his tie down his front. “Stay calm, stay seated. Talk– talk amongst your– yourselves, talk– Connor.” Dash takes the stairs at a sprint as Connor leans so far to one side he tips into the back row of students. A screech goes up from one of the girls, and a half dozen hands shove Connor back to his feet.

Dash reaches his brother as the heckling begins, as a disconcerting portion of his class stands to leave. “Hey– hey,” he mutters, both palms hovering over Connor’s chest. Connor’s grey eyes are glassy, alcohol seeping from his pores. Dash hesitates to touch him, wary of provoking an outburst, but then Connor pitches forward and hits Dashiel’s chest with such force they both nearly go toppling into the mass of panicked students. And the panic proves contagious; it takes Dash a beat to recognize the collision as not an attack, but a hug.

      “She’s’ick,” Connor sobs, slurring, sweating, and still swaying. Dash wraps his arms around his brother and struggles to support him. Connor hugs him, weakly. “’M– drunk,” he hiccups, and Dash nods.

      “Yeah,” he mutters. “Yeah, you are– ah– Conn–” Dash gasps as Connor’s knees give out. Mercifully, Connor’s weight, being the heavier between them, drags Dash forward rather than sending them down the stairs, but Connor’s hip hits the ground hard, and Dash experiences a rush of vertigo as he’s all but flipped over top his brother’s crumpled form.

Someone from the crowd Dash had left in the lurch calls out, and Dash hurries to right himself and fend off the building riot. “Class dismissed!” he shouts, scrambling to make sure his brother is still breathing. The sobs rising, thick, from Connor’s chest serve as proof positive.  “Class dismissed,” Dash repeats, panting and kneeling above Connor, but far more even keeled. “Please– take a syllabus and exit out the front.”

      “Professor O,” says a very small, very scared voice, and Dash looks up and into the eyes of a young student clutching a cell phone. “Do you need– do you– need–”

Dash shakes his head. “No,” he says. “No, no, please. No, this is– I need the room clear. Is what I need.” He nods. The girl hesitates. “Take a syllabus, please. All of you. Go.” The student retreats. Dashiel’s attention completely abandons his class. “Connor,” he urges. “Connor, sit up.” Connor’s cries turn critical, the horrible noise he’d been making strangled in his throat. Dash positions himself in a crouch and hauls Connor into a sitting position, then places one hand on Connor’s chest and one on his back. “Breathe, C.”

Connor chokes. Dash feels his brother’s chest seize, the muscles in his back twist, and then Connor is tossing the contents of his stomach onto the lecture room stairs. Dash watches, nonplussed, rubbing Connor’s back and waiting for it to pass.

      “How much have you had?” he asks.

      “Too much,” Connor says, mouth full.

Dash nods his understanding. “How many times have you vomited?” he asks, to which Connor only groans and heaves again. Dashiel comes momentarily unstuck in time, unstuck in place. They’ve done this so many times, the pair of them, in either position. Too many times.

With more effort than Dash can comfortably, physically manage, he hauls Connor to his feet and negotiates him into a lecture hall chair. Only when he’s seated, panting, beside his brother does he realize the hall has actually emptied – and all of the syllabi are gone from the front table. “Amazing,” Dash murmurs.

Connor sobs, “I’m sorry,” and Dash is forced to retract.

      “No, that was– that was genuine,” he says. “And not about you. This was an introductory course you interrupted. First years, mostly. I told them all to leave and grab a syllabus. And they did. Which is– amazing.”

Connor snorts. He tries to throw his foot up on the row of chairs in front of him, but it misses and hits the floor with bone-rattling force. Dashiel’s hip practically aches listening to Connor swear. And then Connor repeats, “’M drunk,” and Dash deadpans, “Why?”

No response. Dash listens to Connor hold his breath, waits until Connor has held his breath for too long, and then orders his brother, again, to breathe. Connor does. “She’s sick,” he whimpers. “I didn’wanna see’t, ’cause I love’er, an’ I– I love our baby, an’ it’s abou’time we got our shit togeth’but she’s– sick. Dash. An’ I dunno how t’help’er ’cause’s sick an’ that’s– ’s too much.”

Dashiel nods, slowly. “Where is McKenna now?”

Connor passes a hand over his face, smearing tears and snot and spit. “Liss’s,” he slurs; sobs. “I had Liss’s kids over’n– s’posed t’help– but Thal ’s– she’s–”

      “Sick,” Dash finishes. “I am familiar with the concept.”

      “Fuck you,” Connor snaps. Dash senses his brother turn violent, but figures removing himself will only provoke more anger, more hurt, so he sits and bears the thumps to his chest thrown by Connor's gnarled right hand from one seat over. “Fuck you for not bein’ there for her, for not– not sayin’ wha’was– You get this stuff an’ y’didn’say’t-- tha’s fucked.”

      “I’m not her husband,” Dash says calmly, massaging his sternum, but Connor rears up, red faced, and shouts in response, “Neither’m I--!”

The implication of what he’s said settles slowly. Dash hears it immediately, of course, and works to keep the pity from his face as Connor figures it out after a beat, then two. The hand he’d used to pummel Dashiel’s chest claps over his mouth. Dash keeps his eyes averted while Connor sobers -- at least as much as he can still smelling strongly of booze.

      “You have t’elp’er,” Connor croaks. “Y’gotta help me fix’er--”

      “She’s not broken, Connor,” Dash says, voice soft, slow and low.

Connor nods like a student from the middle rows, accepting the information of a lecture like cattle accepts its feed. The sudden acquiescence puts Dash on edge. On Connor, it looks a lot like defeat.

Dash twists in his chair, hooking a finger over the knot of his tie and loosening it so he might pop the top button of his shirt. “Okay,” he says, a bit of force behind the word. “Okay, Connor. If that’s what you want, I’ll help. But I’m not a therapist. There’s only so much--”

      “Well, I can’t-- ’elp’er,” Connor hiccups. “’S my fault.”

      “Yes, you can, and no, it isn’t,” Dash counters, gently insistent. “This isn’t about you, but she loves you. You must continue to be there for her. I’ll step in, I will. Take over from you, if I must. You’re right, I have personal experience. I’ve kept out of it so far. For Thalia’s own good, I thought. I didn’t want to project. I didn’t want to assume. If this isn’t about you, which it isn’t, I can’t make it about me. But-- Connor.”

Connor’s head, in the process of tipping forward, eyes gone cross, snaps to what would be attention. As it is, he blinks at Dash, eyelids gummy, eyes glassy to the point of reflecting his brother’s image back on himself. Dash reaches, extending two fingers to test Connor’s pulse. The man’s jugular beats erratically at the side of his neck, his skin is clammy, and he doesn’t seem to notice the invasion of personal space -- doesn’t so much as flinch, let alone move to swat Dashiel’s hand away as per usual.

      “You are-- absolutely blackout drunk, aren’t you,” Dash muses. Connor responds by letting his head fall back against the top of the chair. Within seconds, it seems, snores rumble in his throat. Dash pats his brother’s sweaty cheek, wipes his hand on Connor’s shirtfront, and fishes for his phone. On the screen, there’s a missed call from a UK number. Dashiel ignores it.

This isn’t about him.

[artofchelleelle]

What It’s Like to Write a Book

Chapter 1… Just kidding!

But, to be serious, I preface that this is not a blanket piece that will cover the way every writer feels or behaves during the writing process. It is, however, my own personal journey as a writer and NaNoWriMoer (plus some advice) thus far. I hope it is insightful!

Writing a book is super fun and rewarding, but it can be a messy business, even when you plan and organize ‘til the cows come home. I’ve had Pinterest boards for nearly six years on what I want settings, buildings, clothing, and people to look like. I’ve done research online, rented books from the library, taken extensive notes on all sorts of things for months… But, I’ll tell you what. I’m still improv writing as I go.

Yep! I’m learning that my prepared, “Planner” self has turned into a “Plantser”, according to NaNoWriMo standards.

* To make a brief and educational aside, NaNoWriMo has three categories of preparedness badges it awards, and they are as follows (in my own words, of course):

Planner: Notes, notes, notes… and everything is plotted out. You’ve done so much work your novel could ALMOST write itself.

Plantser: You’ve got ideas! And… you’ve written some out. But, things are kind of uncertain…

Pantser: Woohoo! Starting from scratch!!!

Even after six years of thinking about this book, my ideas have evolved and changed so much. I’m tempted to say they’ve changed even more in the span of a few months. And, since I didn’t really have much of an outline beforehand, perhaps I cannot truly call myself a full-fledged “Planner”. Still debating that one.

Although I had some small sections and paragraphs written out before November’s NaNoWriMo event this past year, thus far, the majority of my writing has been contained within the months of November and December 2016 and I am amazed at how even that previously-mentioned book outline keeps evolving (May I also just say that having an outline is definitely a good way to go. I didn’t quite know where to start, but a friend sent me a link to this amazing outline (found here), which I used to create my own. I also recommend reading the other fun and helpful tips the blog’s author, Christine Frazier writes. It’s wonderful!).

Beginning the Beginning

After I had that outline filled in a bit, at least for the first few chapters, I got to writing. But, I didn’t start with what I thought would be the very beginning. I wrote a part that I felt most passionate about. Strangely enough, it did make it to the first chapter after I realized it was a good fit! But, I kept going with writing what I felt most drawn to, or what scenes I had previously visualized. It made writing consistently MUCH easier. And, as I’ve learned, more scenes and ideas pop into your head as you get those first ones down, so you just have to keep going, no matter how you feel.

It wasn’t but a few days in to NaNoWriMo that I realized something. Despite having an outline, I actually DIDN’T know where I was going! What ending was I working toward? What goals, struggles, and conflicts was I going to have to create and then wrap up in those last few chapters? So, I fixed my problem as best I knew how. I jumped to writing my ending.

This is where I realized my mind is a deeper, more unknown place than I could ever have imagined. I had no clue where all of these words and ideas were coming from. And, if any of you follow me on Twitter, you would have seen this post…

Really, though, I was so sucked into my own, surprisingly spooky, imaginary world that I needed a break. It was a lot like the feeling you get when you read a suspenseful novel for hours and you have to pull yourself away for dinner, right at the climax. You know, where you are supposed to figure out who the villain is or whether or not the hero solves the mystery. Except… I was the one writing it and I still had no idea where my ideas were coming from. Do DOOO do…. That was just as frightening. But, cool. Definitely cool. God is mysterious… I hope He tells me how those ideas got in there some day.

Once I put on my brave pants (and probably had some comforting hot chocolate), I wrote on! And boy, did writing the ending at the beginning help so much! I could further outline my plot and think more deeply about my characters, their motivations, and what in the world they would be doing for several hundred pages. It’s only fair… it’s their lives after all.

Ch… Ch… Ch… Changes!

But, it didn’t take long into my writing for my pre-formed ideas and all those thousands of words I had gotten down to suddenly have the plot and my characters make a HUGE shift.

Yes, that was a day later, folks. Everything happened so fast. And you know what ended up happening? I split a character in two! Yep! I decided that one character was having waaaayy too much responsibility put upon him. I can tell you, though, it made things a little tricky when it came to going back and making sure there was continuity, ‘cause I really liked that character before they got all interested in my protagonist.

I’ll admit I fought this change. I remember chatting with a fellow writer friend a few days before about my plot and how my characters were going to develop. They said something like, “You should make that one character her love interest.” I was like, NOOOO! I had fallen in love with this character I created. The whole plot seemed to revolve around him… he held so many keys to so many things. He was one big, easy answer to many of the problems.

And as I wrote that day, November 4, my friend’s words hit me… and I realized they were right. And that one character shouldn’t carry the plot along so heavily and be an easy, tidy fix to all the problems in this imaginary world. I knew the novel would be so much more interesting if I allowed things to grow, to change, and become more complex. I just had to take really good notes as I went.

Taking Notes

May I note here that taking excellent notes is crucial? There’s no way around it. You’ve gotta keep track of your ideas, changes, noticeable plot holes… all of it. Especially in the moment you notice them.

I kid you not, there are pages in my Word Doc where the margins are mostly text. And the notes can be from various days. Since I go back and read through what I’ve written quite a bit, particularly when I change one part of the book that relates to another, I have notes scattered around from all different days and times of reading them. And, I always try to date them so that I know the progression of my ideas.

I also do this in the chapter outline I created. I date the changes I make, and cross out old ideas I no longer think I’ll use. But, I try not to delete them. You never know when you might use that information! It does make for a rather messy plot outline, but it’s just the way it is. Perhaps a better color coding system would do well for me. ‘Til then, I’m happy with the mess it is!

Organization and Backup

Your style of organization may be a bit of a mess, as mine can sometimes be. That’s okay, as long as you know where everything is AND have the information backed up. I have two different notebooks full of ideas, the margin notes on the actual Word Doc, the plot outline (also a Word Doc), and a few other documents into which I have taken out portions of my story. My important computer work is all backed up, but I’ll admit my handwritten stuff isn’t quite so secured. Which, is definitely not cool, because the research that isn’t in my head is in one of those notebooks. And it’s a fair amount of research. I even have my character bios in there. *Sigh* Looks like I need to take my own advice!

But, I will say, I rather like the way I keep track of things. Every time I write and take a break, I save what I have and send it through one, big email chain. It helps me know what I’ve written each day and how the document changes should I ever need to go back and reference an older version. It’s also encouraging to see the file grow bigger every time you send it!

It may also be worth saying to try to have things backed up to some kind of cloud drive as well, and maybe a hard drive or USB. Or two. Two USB copies can’t hurt. Multiple, variegated types of storage can’t hurt, either.

Further Thoughts & Helpful Tips

I have to admit I’ve become rather addicted to my book. I have this strange way of dealing with it, though. There’s this intense desire to leave it be and walk away, to gather my thoughts and do something other than write. But, at the same time, I just want to keep going, and going, and going… There are days where my whole world revolves around my book. Aside from meals and small breaks, there was a day I pretty much spent morning to morning on it (Sorry to my husband who apparently was waiting for me to go to bed at 12:30 am! :/).

I’ve seen people say that they have a love / hate relationship with their books. I get it now, but hate may be a bit strong. There are days where I feel overwhelmed by the amount of additions I’ve put into the plot, or the edits I’ll have to make, or even by simply having to just keep writing until I figure out what happens next. But, it’s a fun relationship and I really enjoy writing.

Something I recommend, if you haven’t already done it, is writing as a group. You don’t have to be in person, but you’ll definitely benefit from having a team support you. I LOVE NaNoWriMo as it brings people together at one time to get out that first draft. I dunno about you, but I do a whole lot better when I have others to work alongside, or maybe even compete with on word count a little… It’s especially nice to have people to bounce ideas off of. It’s pretty priceless, especially when you get stuck.

Read Other Writers

If you do get stuck, though, and even if you don’t, I highly recommend reading other books in the genre you’re writing! I believe this was a tip NaNoWriMo tip sent out in 2016. If two of us are saying it, it must be a thing! I’ve got a shelf of books I’ve loved since I was in elementary school and have since added to. I recently picked up quite a few, if not the majority of the fantasy books for a re-read. I have a really hard time re-reading books, so this is a big deal. I’ll tell you what, though… it helped me so much!

In fact, it helped me reconnect with another big idea. I pulled “Aurelia” by Anne Osterlund off of my shelf (Thanks for the great book, girl!) and got curious. What if she had a website… So, I did some research and found her site! She had lots of great tips on there, and apparently had released sequels to “Aurelia” (I need to get on that!). But, what I liked most is something she had written about her characters. She mentioned that during her writing, her villain slowly revealed itself… and changed!

This really hit me. In fact, I needed to hear it. I needed confirmation that it was okay to let my characters evolve and change, to not keep them in their little boxes. That another author I respected and had read had gone through this. That things reveal themselves to you as you write and that things can change for the better.

So, thank you Anne Osterlund for your continued inspiration in my life. I am happy to say that since reading about your experience, my characters have developed wings of their own and are flying happily around my mind and helping me figure out where they need to go to get to the end of those (hopefully) 21 chapters. And, maybe a sequel or two!

I love writing and sharing about my experiences and would love to help however I can. If you have any questions or fun stories of your own, let me know! You can share them with me on Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, Google+, and Instagram. And if you really want to make sure you reach me, you can even email me at ArtofChelleElle@gmail.com. I really do love getting mail!

Chat with ya later!

Chelle Elle

“Chelle Elle” has been drawing since she was really small. No restaurant napkin was ever safe when crayons were involved! Now, she writes and illustrates characters and other fun ideas to help her dreams and the dreams of others come to life! Yes, she’s available to help with your stories and would love to hear from you.

Email her today to learn more about how she can bring your ideas to life at ArtofChelleElle@gmail.com!

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