#The Post that Never properly published until Now

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 The Other Girl Next Door.

Spencer Reid x Neighbor!reader

series masterlist

Summary: Whenever your world has fallen, your neighbor has been there to save you, but now it's your turn to do the same for him.

Words: 6k (I get crazier with each chapter).

Warnings & Tags: this is part of a series, check the masterlist to make sure you are in the correct chapter. mention of murder, injuries, violence, alzheimer, daddy issues, death. hurt/comfort. angst. painter!reader. post prison reid with almost all his past traumas. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I know it takes me a long time to publish the chapters but they all have a lot of emotional charge (in this one IS A LOT) and to get it 100% right I have to rewrite them little by little, it is complex because I am a perfectionist😞 BUT thank you all for the support, patience and love you have given me.

I'm also planning to upload an extra of this poor babies for Valentine's Day💕 It'll be a prequel to the series and is mostly fluff yum.

You still remembered the first time you climbed the stairs to your apartment.

At the time, it hadn’t been a choice but a necessity. The elevator had been out of order in the middle of moving week, and the building management had shrugged off your complaints with little more than an apologetic glance, a vague promise, and a string of excuses that never quite panned out. The idea of waiting for them to fix it seemed absurd, especially when you were already overwhelmed with boxes, tape, and the dull ache of exhaustion that settled in your bones after hours of unpacking. So, with your arms full of the fragile, mundane objects that made up your life—books, plates, electronics, and furniture—you had trudged up the stairs, one step at a time. Sweat slicked your back, dampening your clothes as each heavy step took its toll. The weight of your belongings had felt far less heavy than the weight of the exhaustion, the impatience, and the frustration that boiled just beneath the surface.

And yet, after all of that, you made a promise to yourself: as soon as the elevator was fixed, you would never do this again. You’d never climb these endless stairs in such a haphazard rush, sweat dripping down your face, your legs aching with every painful movement.

But as the days passed, the promise began to feel less like a statement of intent and more like a fleeting thought. The elevator was still out of order, and each time you ascended those stairs, something strange happened. The ache in your muscles, the deep, satisfied burn that had originally seemed like an unbearable weight, started to feel different. It wasn’t just the physical strain of moving boxes. It was something else, something subtle but undeniable. You were becoming accustomed to it. The repetitive rhythm of your steps, the quiet solitude of the stairwell, the knowing sense that this space, though public, was somehow yours. No one else was down there, nobody was watching, and nobody expected anything of you except that you climb. You weren’t running into awkward neighbors. No one was talking about the weather or the laundry room door that wouldn’t close properly. The stairwell became something more than just a space to get from one floor to the next; it became a moment of stillness, of pause, a small sanctuary from the chaos of the world outside.

Then your favorite neighbor noticed.

He didn’t say anything at first. Not until one evening, when you reached the bottom of the stairwell, your legs trembling from the exertion. You were trying to stretch your calves and soothe the burning in your thighs, cursing yourself for the lack of grace you were showing. You were already preparing yourself to leave when a voice, warm yet casual, interrupted your thoughts.

“You know, taking the stairs regularly can improve cardiovascular health, increase muscle endurance, and even help with cognitive function. There have been studies.”

You froze mid-stretch, eyes widening. Slowly, you turned to find him leaning against the wall, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, work bag slung over his shoulder. He looked like he had been standing there for a while, watching you struggle up the stairs far longer than you had realized.

“Spencer,” you panted, still catching your breath, “I just like avoiding awkward elevator conversations.”

A flicker of amusement passed across his face, the corner of his mouth twitching in a small, knowing smile. But he didn’t argue. Not that day. Not yet.

“Oh…that’s a good idea, I guess.”

But after that, it became a habit of his.

He started slipping little facts into conversation, always casually, always carefully, like he wasn’t trying to impose, just…offering something. He mentioned the importance of pacing yourself, of stretching, and of drinking water. He spoke of breath control, the way inhaling through your nose and exhaling with each push off the step could help regulate energy and heart rate. He never said it like a lecture, never demanded that you listen. He simply planted ideas, little seeds of knowledge, and let them take root on their own.

Then, he started timing his arrivals. You’d reach the bottom of the stairs, exhausted from your climb, only to find him standing there. He’d walk with you down the flights, his stride long and effortless, as though gravity didn’t pull on him the same way it did you. With each step you took, you found yourself straining to match his pace, to keep up.

One day, after you had finally reached the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing to catch your breath, he spoke again, voice low but insistent.

“You know,” he mused, watching you with that quiet, observant gaze of his, “you’d get even more benefits if you focused on your breathing pattern. Inhale through your nose as you step up, exhale when you push off. It helps with energy flow and helps regulate your heart rate.”

Another time, he raised an eyebrow as you finished stretching, his lips curling into a small frown. “Your posture could use some work. If you lean too far forward, you’ll strain your lower back.”

You had paused, mid-stretch, and shot him a look. “Are you coaching me?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Spencer, not even winded, just smiled that small, knowing smile of his. “I prefer to think of it as…guiding you toward better habits. So you live longer.”

There was something in the way he said it, something so utterly genuine, that you had no response. You just rolled your eyes, pretending his words didn’t settle somewhere deep in your chest.

Because he really did want you to live longer.

Preferably forever.

And hopefully, always next door.

Even if you didn’t realize it. Even if you just saw his words as a harmless nuisance, a quirk of his endlessly curious mind.

And somehow, the strangest thing? It worked.

You found yourself drinking more water throughout the day, stretching before and after walking, and adjusting the way you climbed to avoid unnecessary pressure on your joints. The things he told you weren’t drastic changes, just subtle shifts, quiet reminders. But somehow, they made a difference. And what had started as a mindless habit became something else. You noticed the difference, not just physically, but mentally. The clarity of thought after a climb, the way your body felt lighter, more in tune. And somewhere along the way, it became yours and his.

It wasn’t something you spoke about outright. There was no label for it, no need to analyze it. But it was there, woven into the fabric of your days. The quiet companionship. The unspoken rhythm of two people walking in sync. The way he filled the silences with facts, you pretended to roll your eyes at, even as you secretly liked how much he enjoyed your reactions.

It became normal.

Until, of course—

He disappeared.

No explanations. No warnings. No final conversation that you knew was final, no understanding of why. Just an empty, silent absence where he used to be. No more random nutrition facts, no more health tips disguised as casual conversation. Just gone.

Still, you did it anyway. Every day, without fail. Because habits don’t break just because people do.

And now, walking up those stairs alone felt heavier than it ever had before. The silence that had once been a comfort now suffocated you. And the idea of living a long, healthy life when no one seemed to care whether you did or not? Well. That was kind of a bummer.

But this morning, the stairs felt different. Lonelier. Less like a ritual, more like a weight dragging behind you, pulling you under. Your mind was stuck on last night. The chaotic blur of it looped in fragments, like a dream you couldn’t shake. A nightmare too sharp to be fiction, but too unreal to fully believe. And yet the bruise on your cheek wasn’t a dream. It greeted you in the mirror as soon as you woke, a dark, swollen reminder of everything you wanted to forget. Pain settled deep in your bones, not just from the stairs but from what had happened. What you saw. What you heard. What you couldn't avoid.

And now, as you reached the bottom step, everything felt wrong. Your chest was too tight. Your limbs were too heavy. The door to your apartment, just a few paces away, felt miles out of reach.

You stopped. Just stood there. The peeling paint on the wooden steps seemed to hold all the time that had passed, all the moments you wished you could undo. You stared at them, at the cracks, the faded edges, as if they might offer answers. As if they might take some of the weight away.

Then, you saw her.

At first, she was just a figure, an unfamiliar silhouette standing at the threshold of your door, her back turned toward you. She scanned the apartment numbers, her hand hovering uncertainly. Her movements were slow, tentative, almost fragile, and it wasn’t until you took a few cautious steps forward that something clicked in your mind. There was a faint spark in her eyes, something familiar.

Spencer’s mother. You were sure of it.

Although you had never seen her face-to-face, you had seen enough photos to recognize her without hesitation. He had told you about her often enough for you to know as much as you could. But it was her eyes that confirmed her identity to you; they mirrored those of her son in a way that made your heart ache. The same sharpness in her gaze, the same small, thoughtful movements, the same undercurrent of quiet intensity that seemed to follow every action.

But you can see something else in her, something that wasn’t him.

A weariness, a loss. You could feel it in the air, thick and heavy around her, almost like an invisible fog clouding her mind. She was lost in more ways than one, and her presence was a reminder of everything he had tried so hard to shield himself from.

Swallowing, you kept your voice gentle.

“Hi,” you said, careful not to startle her. “Are you looking for someone? Can I help you?”

At the sound of your voice, she finally turned.

For a fleeting moment, her gaze met yours, and you saw the confusion settle in, subtle but unmistakable. Her brows knitted together, her lips parting as if forming a question she couldn’t quite grasp.

“You…you’re…no. You’re not…No, I thought…” Diana’s voice trailed off, barely more than a breath, lost and small, as she sighed, a sound heavy with defeat.

Your heart clenched.

“I think I know who you’re looking for.” You softened your tone, offering her a small, steadying smile. “Spencer, right?”

Her eyes flickered at the name, the briefest flash of recognition breaking through the fog. A tether, however fragile. She nodded slowly, her hand falling to her side in a motion that seemed more instinct than intention. Her eyes then drifted back to the door, and for a long moment, she seemed lost again, looking at the numbers as if they held the answers she was searching for, her thoughts adrift somewhere far away.

“I just want to see him,” she murmured. “I can’t miss his birthday again.”

Oh no.

The words hit you like a physical blow. Spencer’s birthday wasn’t for another couple of months. You knew that with certainty, but hearing it from Diana, the way she said it, with such unwavering certainty, made your chest tighten. She wasn’t just lost in space. She was lost in time itself. And the realization, sharp and painful, settled in your stomach, a stone that refused to be dislodged.

You glanced at her again, her fingers twitching at her sides, lips pressed together as though trying to hold on to a thought, a memory, something that kept slipping away from her. The confusion was thick, almost palpable, and it filled the space between you, leaving you with the distinct sense that you were intruding, stepping into a moment too fragile, too fleeting to hold on to.

She wasn’t supposed to be here.

You weren’t supposed to meet her yet.

Not like this. Not without him.

You exhaled slowly, steadying the tremor in your voice. “He’s not home right now, but I can call him for you. Maybe we can wait inside?”

Diana’s gaze darted back to the door once more. For a moment, she seemed suspended in two realities: the one in her mind and the one in front of her. The world she remembered and the one she now stood in.

“No…I—I should go.” Her fingers curled at her sides, her voice fragile, distant. “I just wanted to see him. I just…”

You felt a lump in your throat. Spencer had told you about those moments, but he never went into a lot of detail because he was afraid of scaring you. But he'd given you enough to understand how much they hurt and how much they terrified him. He never said it directly, but you could tell when he talked about her. You could hear the tension in his voice, the way his hands started to shake every time he got a call and thought it might be from the nursing home she was in, how he spent his time reading huge books and researching ways to help her with her illness, and most of all, in how he had delayed letting you meet her for fear that you would be frightened to see his possible future.

But now, here you were, standing before her anyway, facing the woman who had given the world someone as brilliant and kind as Spencer, yet who now stood stranded in fragments of a past that no longer fit.

“Diana,” you said, your voice firmer now, gentle but insistent. “It’s okay. Spencer would want to see you. Let me call him. He’ll come.”

She hesitated, her fingers twitching slightly. Searching.

“You know my son?” she asked softly.

“I do. He’s—” You hesitated, searching for the right words. What were you to him? A friend? A neighbor? Something else? The definition had never been clear, but it didn’t matter now. “He’s important to me.”

Something in her expression shifted, though the confusion never fully left her eyes.

“I have a key to his apartment,” you added carefully. “He gave it to me in case he wasn’t here.”

Diana’s gaze dropped to your hand, where the key glinted under the dim hallway light. She studied it for a long moment, her thoughts drifting somewhere you couldn’t follow.

Then, finally, she whispered, “Okay.”

You guided her inside, the familiar scent of his apartment wrapping around you both like something solid, something safe. She sank onto the couch with a weary sigh, looking small, fragile, as if the very act of being here took more effort than she could afford.

“I’ll make some tea,” you said softly, trying to fill the silence with something tangible, something grounding.

Moving toward the kitchen, you kept her in your sights, watching as her gaze flitted around the apartment. Her eyes were looking around, at the walls that had seen Spencer's life in all its quiet moments over the past few years. After watching her for a moment, you noticed that she seemed to be especially focused on the various pictures hanging on the walls. You had painted some of them, and he had bought the rest in his attempts to discreetly help you monetarily. Most of the paintings were landscapes, one or two inspired by the books he always told you about and how you imagined them, plus even a portrait of Mittens playing on the balcony.

Until that moment, you hadn’t realized just how much of yourself had become part of his home.

Something in your chest tightened, but you pushed the thought aside, stepping away to dial his number.

The line rang once.

Then twice.

Then—

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer’s voice, quiet and concerned, almost as if he had been waiting for your call. “I wanted to talk, but—”

You exhaled, relief and uncertainty tangling together at the sound of his voice. “Hi. I’m fine. Um…your mom is here.”

Silence.

Then, the shift, something you had come to recognize when he was processing information at a speed faster than most people could follow. “She’s—wait, she’s where?” His voice was sharper now, alert.

“She’s safe,” you reassured him quickly. “We’re in your apartment. But…” Your voice softened. “She thinks it’s your birthday.”

Another pause. A breath.

When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost a whisper. “I’m coming. Please don’t let her be alone.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “I won’t.”

“And…” His voice faltered, then steadied. “Thank you.”

The call ended.

You turned back to Diana, whose hands were wrapped around a cup of tea. The liquid swirled gently as she lifted the mug to her lips, the warm steam rising in a delicate plume. She looked at the tea, but her eyes weren’t focused. They were far away, somewhere beyond the moment, distant as though she had left this room a long time ago.

“Spencer’s coming,” you said softly, as if the quiet of the moment demanded it. You knew how much she hated noise. “He’ll be here soon.”

Her eyes flickered for a brief moment, a slight shift in the dullness that had clouded them. She blinked, and for a split second, it felt like she was with you again, her gaze a little clearer. But then, just as quickly, the fog returned, and she glanced up at you with a faint smile, one that was both familiar and distant, like a stranger trying to be someone you once knew. She took another sip, the sound of it like a small exhale in the room.

Carefully, you lowered yourself onto the couch across from her, keeping your movements slow, deliberate, as if any sudden shift might shatter the fragile tether that kept her here in this moment with you.

“You painted these,” she murmured, more statement than question after her eyes drifted back to the paintings on the walls, lingering for longer this time.

Your breath caught for a second. How did she know?

“Some of them,” you admitted, glancing at the familiar brushstrokes, at the colors you had chosen, the emotions you had poured into each piece. “Spencer liked them. He, uh…kept buying them even when I told him he didn’t have to.”

Diana’s lips twitched, just the faintest hint of a smile.

“He’s always been like that,” she said softly, her gaze distant but warm. “Always finding ways to help without saying it outright. As a boy, he would leave little notes in my books. Facts about things he thought I would like, little reminders of things I would forget. He never wanted me to feel like I was slipping away.”

For the first time since you had met her in the hallway, she didn’t seem frightened. She wasn’t lost, drifting between past and present. She was here. Grounded. Aware of the space around her.

It felt like magic.

But then, just as quickly as it came, something in her shifted again. Her brow knit together slightly, and her fingers smoothed absently over the fabric of her sleeve.

“But I still did, didn’t I?” Her voice was quiet, almost fragile. “I slipped away.”

There was no easy answer to that. No a good one.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “He loves you,” you said simply.

Diana’s hands, which had been moving idly over the fabric of her sleeve, stilled. Slowly, she turned her head toward you. And for the first time, she really looked at you, not in passing, not through the haze of misplaced time, but deeply, as if seeing you for exactly who you were.

Something shivered through you under the weight of her gaze. You wondered what she saw. The faint smudges of paint still clinging to your sleeves? The way your makeup, carefully applied, hid the faint traces of a bruise in your cheek? The cup in your hands, her son favorite, still bearing the faded imprint of your lipstick, because Spencer always refused to wipe it completely away?

Something unreadable passed beneath the surface of her expression, something quiet but powerful. Then, after a moment, her features softened.

“He talks about you,” she murmured.

Your pulse jumped.

“He does?”

“Not in long speeches. Not in obvious ways. But I know my son.” She exhaled, her gaze flicking back to the paintings, the bookshelf, the little details scattered around the apartment. “I know the way he holds on to things that matter.”

Her eyes found yours again, gentle but knowing.

“And you…you’re in the details.”

The words settled in your chest, warm and heavy all at once.

Your breath caught as her gaze flickered around the apartment. Not just at the paintings now, but at the bookshelf, where your art books sat nestled beside his. At the little traces of you woven so seamlessly into this space. The familiar hoodie draped over the armrest, too big to be yours but still carrying your scent. The unopened package of your favorite tea sitting on the counter, bought without a second thought.

Everywhere.

You were everywhere.

The realization pressed against your ribs, something warm, something steady, something undeniable that made you nostalgic.

Before you could find the right words to respond, the sound of the front door opening cut through the stillness.

Spencer stepped inside in a rush, his eyes immediately locking onto his mother, scanning her with that same mix of relief and worry you had come to recognize. His bag hung off his shoulder, his coat still half-buttoned as if he hadn’t even stopped to fix it in his hurry to get here.

“You?” Diana asked suddenly, her voice small, uncertain. “What are you doing here? You are not invited to his birthday.”

He froze, and so did you.

His mother was looking at him, but she wasn't really seeing him. She was seeing someone else, someone from her past. Someone whose hair and eye color he had inherited. Someone he had accused of being a murderer years ago. Someone who was the first to leave him and say goodbye with a letter. Someone who forced him to be the one to take care of the rest since he was a kid. She was seeing his father.

You saw it in his face, the way something inside Spencer broke into a thousand pieces. And only then did you realize the pain he carried every day. Because just when you thought you had Diana anchored in the present, she slipped into the past and dragged an unwanted memory with her. That was the worst part, going from having everything to having nothing. To go from having your mother to having a stranger.

The silence hung heavy between you, and then Spencer did something you hadn’t expected. Slowly, carefully, he sank to his knees in front of her. It was a gesture of both humility and desperate tenderness. You could see it in his body language, the way he made himself small, as though trying to reach the part of his mother that still remembered him.

“It’s me, mom,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, breaking the stillness with the weight of everything unsaid.

Diana’s gaze flickered, her fingers tightening slightly around her sleeves.

“I’m here,” he said again, his voice soft but firm. “I’m Spencer…your son.”

You stayed quiet, watching as something in Diana’s expression shifted. She blinked once. Then twice. Her lips parted slightly, her brows furrowing.

And then, finally her gaze cleared just enough.

“Spencer,” she whispered.

The weight in his shoulders lifted, just barely, just enough for you to see the breath he had been holding.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m here.”

Her fingers twitched in his grasp before settling. A long, slow exhale left her lips, and she leaned forward, just slightly.

Your heart ached at the intimacy of it, at the sheer relief in his expression, at the way his mother finally saw him.

You didn’t move.

You just let them have this moment.

Your heart still carried the weight of everything you had witnessed earlier that day. The ache in your cheek from where you had pressed your hand to your face was almost unbearable, but it seemed so insignificant now. The pain felt almost like a distant echo compared to the one you could see in his eyes, the raw, and unspoken hurt that had been etched into his life for so long. Every time you thought about him, about what he’d endured, it was as if your chest tightened, the reality of his struggles pressing in on you from every side. What had you seen today? A broken cycle of love, loss, and confusion. And Spencer…he had lived it over and over again.

After his mother had finally recognized him, there hadn’t been many words exchanged. The silence between them felt like the weight of a thousand unsaid things, thick with all that had been left unspoken for years. He had explained gently that it wasn’t his birthday today, that it was still months away, but they’d celebrate together when the time came. The sadness in his eyes even as he reassured her, and the tenderness with which he helped her back into the present, spoke volumes. You had stood there, a silent observer, an outsider in their fragile moment. You had smiled at Diana, said your goodbyes softly to her, and watch they two left, knowing there was nothing more you could say.

And when the tossing and turning in your apartment began to make you and your cat dizzy, you retreated to the couch on the first floor, right in front of the front door, and watched every person who entered. Your mind was filled with a million thoughts, but none of them seemed to make sense. You waited for Spencer, not knowing how much longer you could sit there, but not wanting to be anywhere else.

The minutes stretched, thick and heavy, suffocating in their silence. What could you say to him when he came back? Was there anything you could say that would make even the smallest difference?

Then, at the seventh sound of the door opening, the cold air rushed in, followed by that unmistakable, familiar scent of him. Spencer. Your heart lurched in your chest at the sight of him, the weight of his exhaustion and sadness hanging from his shoulders like a heavy cloak. His face was drawn, his eyes tired in a way that made it feel as if he’d aged ten years in just a few hours. He looked so broken.

“You’re here,” he said, a flicker of surprise crossing his features when his eyes landed on you, as though he hadn’t expected to see you standing there, waiting.

You gave him a small, automatic smile, trying to make it light, but it felt flimsy, like a mask that wasn’t quite right. “I was…looking for my correspondence,” you said, the lie slipping out with the ease of a long-forgotten habit, but it tasted hollow in your mouth, as if the words themselves were trying to escape. It felt like a flimsy excuse, a weak justification for why you hadn’t been somewhere else, anywhere else, but here, with him.

As you walked beside him into the hallway, you did your best to keep the air light, to make your steps unhurried, as though everything were fine, even though the very air felt heavy, full with things unspoken. You glanced at him, trying to break the silence with something simple, something safe. “How’s your mom?”

The words hit him like a blow. His entire body seemed to stiffen, the tension rolling through him like an electric current. You immediately regretted asking, wishing you could take the question back.

“She’s better now,” he said, his voice tight with the weight of his unspoken thoughts. “I stayed until she fell asleep.”

You nodded quietly, taking in the weight of his words. His world, and his life, was full of unpredictable chaos, of moments like this, moments that no one should have to endure. You didn’t need to hear the details to know how much it hurt him. You stepped into the elevator as he held the door open, the tension between you thick and suffocating. The doors closed slowly, the sound of them closing almost felt like the world itself was pressing in, leaving you both suspended in a silence that was heavy, too full.

“I’m glad she’s okay,” you whispered after a long moment, the words tasting like something too small for the weight of the situation.

“Thanks to you,” he replied softly, and there was so much unspoken in those four words that it hit you like a punch to the chest. The sincerity in his voice, the gratitude mixed with something more, something raw, caught you off guard.

It was as if the Spencer who had come back a few weeks ago, the one who didn’t want you around, had disappeared. The man standing before you was something else entirely, and for a moment, you weren’t sure which version of him was the real one.

And then you noticed. He wasn’t wearing his coat. His shirt barely covered his arms, and despite the warmth of the building, his body was shaking from the cold, his lips a pale shade of purple. The tremors were unmistakable, the way his body quivered with each movement. It wasn’t just the chill of the air; it was something deeper, something that made your heart clench with an instinctual need to protect him.

“You’re shivering,” you said, the concern in your voice rising, louder than you’d intended, but you couldn’t help it.

He shrugged, his eyes quickly falling to the floor as though he were ashamed of his vulnerability, trying to hide it away. “Oh, I gave my jacket to my mom,” he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips, as though he didn’t want them to matter, but they did. They mattered more than anything.

Without thinking, you took off the cardigan he had lent you so long ago, the one that had quietly become a part of you because it carried his essence. You draped it over his shoulders with a tenderness that startled you, instinctively wanting to offer him something, anything, to ease the shivers and make him feel good. But when you saw the look in his eyes, you froze. He didn't seem to be used to being taken care of anymore, not like this, not after being on the defensive for so long.

It was strange to you that after only three months away, he seemed to have forgotten the way you were always willing to take care of him.

“Don’t,” he said softly, his voice apologetic, as though he were making a quiet plea for something you didn’t fully understand. He didn’t move to take the cardigan off, but his words had a weight, and for a moment, you felt a strange, painful distance between you. “It’s yours.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, an unspoken question in your expression, and he continued.

“Technically, it’s yours,” he added, his voice quieter now. “I haven’t worn any of this stuff in a while.”

And then you understood. The clothes in his closet had changed. Gone were the soft, earth-toned cardigans and slacks you used to love, replaced by sharp, black suits and ties, clothes that looked like they belonged to someone else, someone trying to appear more sophisticated, more put-together, more respectable. It was as though he was trying to transform himself into someone else, someone who had moved on from the things he used to love, the things that reminded him of you.

“I know,” you replied, your voice quiet, carrying more meaning than just those two words. A sad smile curled on your lips. “I miss it…I miss you in it.”

The words hung between you for a moment, heavier than the silence. He didn’t respond, his gaze flickering away, but you could see something shift in him, a softness, something vulnerable. Without thinking, you reached out, your hand brushing against his. His fingers were ice-cold, and you instinctively cupped them in yours, the warmth of your touch contrasting sharply with the coldness of his skin.

“I remember you once said something about the power of human warmth,” you said softly, your voice breaking the weight of the silence, a fragile smile on your lips. “Let’s try.”

The elevator was still, suspended in a moment that felt endless. Neither of you had pressed a button, and for a heartbeat, the world outside seemed to hold its breath. You were trapped between two floors, between the weight of the past and the uncertainty of what might come next. The world was still, but your hearts, your thoughts, they were swirling, caught in the same limbo.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice a little rough, a little uncertain. His breath caught as your warm fingertips brushed his, and for a second, the world felt smaller, softer.

“I don’t want you to freeze or get sick,” you whispered, the words soft but steady, even though your heart was pounding in your chest. “I want you to live longer.”

Because you really did want he to live longer.

Preferably forever.

And hopefully, always this close to you.

For a long moment, Spencer didn’t speak, the tension between you palpable, thick with everything unspoken. You almost apologized, the words tumbling from your lips, but before you could finish, his touch stopped you.

He grabbed your waist, pulling you close with a force that took you by surprise, pressing your bodies together in a way that was intimate, urgent. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you melted into him, your cheek resting against his chest, your hands sliding around his back. You could hear the steady, comforting beat of his heart beneath your ear, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the world outside seemed to disappear. Everything else fell away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

The silence grew between you, and then, without warning, the tears came.

Hot, silent, as though they had been held back for far too long, breaking free from the calm of his chest. They soaked into the fabric of your shirt, but you didn’t care. You held him tighter, your arms wrapped around him, offering him what little strength you had left. The weight of his sorrow pressed against you, and you could feel the deep, guttural pain that had been locked away inside him. It spilled out of him in waves, raw and unfiltered, and you didn’t say anything. You simply held him.

His body shook with the force of his grief, his fingers clutching at your shirt as the tears kept coming. “I’m here,” you whispered, your voice a steady murmur in the chaos of his pain. “I’m here. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You gently stroked his back, your touch slow and grounding, the rhythm of your movements steady and soft. As he clung to you, you could feel the tension slowly begin to ease, just a little. His sobs quieted, the sharpness in his breath softened, and the storm inside him started to calm, just a fraction. In your arms, he found the space to grieve, to release everything he had held in for so long.

Everything shifted. The elevator, once a place of uncomfortable silence, became a sanctuary. A place where Spencer could let down the walls he had built around himself. A place where, for the first time in what felt like forever, he was free to feel, free to cry, free to just be. And you were there, holding him, never letting go.

And for the first time in a long time, you both felt like you were exactly where you needed to be: he was yours, and you were his.

Tag list ❤︎ ︎: @burningwitchprincess @withloverosse @fairiesofearth @pleasantwitchgarden @ximensitaa @lover-of-books-and-tea @cherryblossomfairyy @cherrygublersworld @i-need-to-be-put-down

Send me an ask or comment here if you would like to be added or removed!

[malecdiscordserver]

Welcome to the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2025: Presented by the Malec Discord Server

The Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2025 is a collaborative fandom event that combines fandom talents! Writers create never-before-seen fic that artists will find inspiration in and together, they create magic.

You must be a part of the Malec Discord Server to participate. You must be over 16 to participate and over 18 to create explicit works.

The schedule and rules can be found under the cut. All information can be found on our Tumblr and on the Server.

Sign ups are open RIGHT NOW!

Writer Sign-Ups | Artist Sign-Ups | Beta Sign-Ups

Join the Server!

The schedule as it currently stands is below. This schedule is subject to change depending on the situation. You will be notified of any changes.

March 3: Writer, beta and artist sign-ups begin March 24: Writer and beta sign-ups closed March 28: Brief summaries from writers for beta claims March 29-30: Beta claims March 31: Assignments May 7: Writer and beta check-in 1 May 7: Summaries due from writers for artist claims May 7: Artist sign-ups close May 9-11: Art claims May 12: Assignments June 18: Artist check-in 1 July 30: All check-in 2 August 30: Final drafts and art due September 6-7: Posting

Rules:

You must be part of the Malec Discord Server to participate in this event. 

You must be over 16 to participate and over 18 to create explicit works.

All content must be brand new and never before posted to any forum. All content must be polished and finished. No unfinished works or WIPs that you plan on continuing later will be accepted. Works that are added chapters/continuations of previously published works are not permitted unless they can be viewed/read as a standalone. 

Plagiarism and AI content will not be tolerated. All content must be the creator’s own original work. 

Writers are asked not to talk about their projects until after claims with anyone participating in this event to keep beta/artist claims fair. 

All content must focus on Shadowhunters universe characters (show and/or book verse.)

All Shadowhunters characters/ships are accepted. OCs/borrowed characters will be accepted as minor characters. 

AUs and crossovers are accepted as long as the Shadowhunters characters are the main focus.

Content of any rating and subject matter is accepted, but participants must make sure to include any relevant warnings throughout the entire event (I.e. warnings for betas/artists during matching) and properly tag their work. 

No blatantly hateful content of any kind. 

All participants are required to check-in with moderators at least twice throughout the event. All check-ins are integral to continuing to participate in the event. 

All participants must communicate readily with their assigned partners and vice versa. This is a collaborative effort. All participants must be open to the ideas of their partners. 

When you sign up for this event you are making a commitment to yourself, the mods, and your future partners to meet all posted deadlines and to communicate with the mods and your partners regularly. Please don’t sign up for the event unless you are confident that you can fully participate and be honest with yourself about what you can commit to. 

Please respect the mods and anyone working with you throughout this event. Certain complaints may disqualify you from this event. 

The password to make sure you’ve read/understand all rules is SHMB25. Remember this when you sign up. 

Writer Specific Rules:

Writers must write a minimum of 5,000 words to participate in this event. There is no maximum limit but please keep in mind the time constraints.

Submitted summaries (provided at check-ins) should provide a solid framework of what your fic is about and the final fic should not deviate too much from those summaries. In the event that it does, please contact a moderator and your partners. This is to ensure all partners are comfortable with their role throughout the event. 

Writers are expected to be respectful of their partners’ ideas. Writers will make all final decisions on their fics, but this event is a collaborative effort.

Artist Specific Rules:

Accepted forms of submitted art include: 

- Digital/physical art: 1 piece, 500px minimum

- Photomanipulation: 1 piece with significant editing

- Gifsets: 4 gifs (without watermarks)

- Moodboards: 6 graphics

- Video: 1 minute

- Playlists: 10 songs and a graphic

If you are inspired by your writer to create a piece of art not on this list, please feel free to reach out to a mod.  

Artists are expected to be respectful of writer’s ideas. Writers will make all final decisions on their fics, but this event is a collaborative effort.

Artists will need somewhere to host their work so that it can be embedded on AO3. Examples will be provided closer to posting date, if needed. 

Artists signing up for the event may not get their first pick when assigned their fic. Please be mindful of this! Ending your commitment because of this is not permitted and if you feel this will be an issue you should not sign up.

[sgiandubh]

She saw, she was first, she scored, homerun

Heh. But Marple only tells you what is convenient for her, right?

This time, I do not have the clip, like she does, simply because as I said, I could not be arsed to watch it. But a trusted friend did, all five hours of it (thank you, dear 😘😘😘😘) and sent me very decent screencaps of S + June Brunette at that tennis event. She sent them a couple of hours ago, while I was busy having a life and lunch, you know (I can prove it anytime, but will always protect my Circle of Trust). Sorry for the delay.

As you know, this blog does not believe that hiding information is the best thing to do. I never did.

Following are the screencaps I have received, in order, and with very precise comments. If anything is wrong, let it be my and her sin. But it is not and you will immediately see why.

Context: S and June Brunette's juiciest appearance in that very exposed spot of the VIP area coincided with Mansour Bahrami's match. S came first, at around 03: 04:49.

Two other people who were seated on those seats before his arrival get up and leave (perhaps prompted? perhaps uninterested in Bahrami? we can only speculate) - all this perhaps about 20 to 30 seconds before S arrives, alone:

He takes a seat and quickly arranges his jacket on his knees, perhaps sends an SMS (I am not Mrs. Graham and, unlike many other people across the street, never pretended to have infrared surveillance material):

Meanwhile, she pops in, at around 03:05:10. Unmistakably Panikian - the yellow outfit was a dead giveaway and he practically pointed when, where and for what to look, in his post: 'and of course, the legend, @mansourbahramiofficial'.

Heh: he was far from surprised and she did not chitchat at all ('is this seat taken?' etc). She just sat down: it was a very natural thing to do:

Then, he takes her in a bear hug. Kinda, sorta. Making sure they are well exposed, unlike you know, that other time:

I am told it was a matter of seconds before he wrapped his arm around her neck. Well, that is the rebuke I have been waiting for about three weeks, right?

At about 04:03:41 and until 04:10:03, she goes out, for some reason (🚹? 💄? 📳? your guess is as good as mine):

My candid question is.. who is Light Green Arrow Woman? This is the first time I see her clearly in those screenshots I (one more time, for the people in the back) have been sent by a trusted friend. Could she be a chaperone of sorts? I am told that on the video edit Marple made a modo suo, she seems to be interacting with Mrs. Panikian, but I would have to see that:

A selfie is taken, to properly document the bullshit (after she helped herself with some more champagne):

Whatever Marple calls 'quite the hug' is a kiss on the cheek, and you can see it quite clearly on her edit, if you really are freaked out by this cheap arrangement:

Prompted by the impromptu (heh) 🔦 + 🍾cocktail, she took it very seriously. A pity she did, without having the slightest idea of the strange place she landed in.

That would be it, to be honest. The pics and stills of these two individuals where he does wear a jacket, that our side published first yesterday are from the first part of the program. I do have a couple of more stills from then, but you have it all on that edit. There is no need to add more pics to it, doesn't bring anything new to the table.

And now, onwards for some more context.

Such as this post on June 13, 2024:

With this very peculiar hidden comment:

From a very peculiar sock account:

Mmmhm. Joined in June 2024, follows nobody and is followed by nobody, and yet felt the need to change the username already once? I mean, what the fuck is this cheap game, right here?

So, for those of you naive (I am elegant) enough to think this Brief Encounter was organic, think twice. Somebody followed whatever the scheming was and that somebody tried to warn the woman. Whether about the Inglorious Pap Walk or about Kissgate (the message was posted around June 15th), is to be debated. But still...

And there is some more, of course : I may not be willing to fuck my (already complicated) eyesight with edits and frames and screenshots, but I am not yet dead and I still have all my brain faculties.

Around the same time Mrs. Panikian began to be followed by S on IG, she also began to be followed by a very decent (give or take a couple of details) physical alternative to My Personal Someone. Who would kill me if he could read this post, btw. That is, if you could kill someone with cold shoulder treatment and an icy gaze (Spanish style all the way):

Quick, let's see what his Personal Life insert tells us:

I mean, D'OH: in case you wondered who the fuck that warning sock account was. NEED I DRAW IT?

Nah, can't be Margot, what were we thinking?

🙄🙄🙄

He followed her not so long ago, but well, he wasn't active since March, LOL:

And look how cute, they are fresh (?) mutuals, as of very recently/now - I might be wrong, but I don't think I am:

Tattoos, fitness venues, filthy porn bots in his 'Tagged' section, rumored to be single since at least last year. Rings a bell? Oh, surely not. Especially when you find out that this guy is also a mildly hot topic on Data Lounge (hope dies last):

Similar profiles (but Eggold is apparently a staunch Catholic - the gay conspirators grin with glee), similar PR problems. Alice to the rescue?

At any rate, she is up for grabs, people: 'looking for a man with a decent sense of humor who doesn't troll women's IG pages' - LOOOOOL. Meet the bloody OL fandom, doll - how's that for trolling? Betcha didn't see what real trolling is, yet.

On a sidenote, in an effort to leave no stones unturned, I have even looked for the edits on her Wikipedia page, until I realized they were unsubstantial and made by a clearly obsessed fan of Miss Universe contests (yeah, such people exist):

Surely enough, that user was blocked for sockpuppetry, which means 'abusing multiple accounts'. But Panikian was not her main obsession and for once, this has nothing to do with the current cheapo story that they try to peddle us. Whoever 'they' are.

That's all for now, ladies. Thanks to all three of you who sent tips and raw info for me to connect. You are wonderful!

It's going to be an interesting summer, for sure.

Ship on, ladies, still the same old, tired, boring BS. But also an interestingly symmetrical rebuke to TS Kissgate - if only...

[wipbigbang]

2025 International Fanworks Day Mini Bang Schedule & FAQ

Schedule

All times are by 11:59pm PST. Convert time zones.

Writing Begins- January 1st Earliest Posting Of Fic To Platform Of Your Choice- February 1st Regular Posting Of Fic To Platform Of Your Choice- February 7t Bragging Rights Posting Starts- February 15th Bragging Rights Posting Endss- February 22nd

FAQ

What is the WIP Big Bang International Fanworks Day Mini Bang? Good question! This is a Mini Bang with one goal in mind: to clean out your fanfic drafts folder for the fics that were too short to be completed during the main Big Bang (ie, finished works are 7.5K words and under).

Do I need a Livejournal/Dreamwidth/AO3/etc. account to participate? No! You don’t have to have an account on anything to participate, though you will need to have somewhere to post your finished work. Having one or more accounts will help for you to follow what is going on with the bang (we crosspost to Dreamwidth and Tumblr and heavily use our Discord server at the moment), but they are not required to participate. You can always leave comments anonymously or with an opensource ID.

How many fics can I write? We absolutely don’t mind multiple fics! There are no sign-ups for this, as it’s an informal Mini Bang, so as long as it stays under he max word count, you can finish as many fics as you want between January 1st and February 15th.

Will I get emails about the bang? We do not send out any emails for the Mini Bang, as we currently do not keep an updated email list of participants, so we only send individual emails as needed rather than mass emails.

However, email is the fastest way to communicate with the mods. If you have any questions, please do email us! We will do our best to respond quickly.

What do you mean by maximum word count? You don’t have to have a set minimum of your fic to start, so an outlined fic is fine, but it must be under 7,500 words when it’s finished.

Are multi-chapter fics allowed? Yes, multi-chapter fics are allowed, as long as they stay under the maximum word count.

What about fics that are already posted on ao3 in part? Do those qualify for the bang? It's okay if you have posted some of your fic already (you never know when the muse deserts you, after all), we just require you to refrain from posting more until posting begins here. All we ask is that you not post any public updates to the fic until February 7th (a week before posting your bragging rights to Dreamwidth and/or Tumblr starts). We don’t want you to lose kudos and comments so don’t worry about pulling the fic down, just hold off on updates for now.

I see that the fic maximum is 7500 words and that published WIPs are acceptable - but what if the WIP I’m considering is already more than 7500 words? If your WIP is already over 7,500 words it is ineligble for the Mini Bang. Hoever, you can submit it for the regualr WIPBB.

What happens if an author finishes the fic they signed up with but it’s more than 7,500 words? Do they have to drop out at that point? By all means, we want your stories to feel as natural as possible, and if it’s over 7,500 words when you finish it, that’s great because you finished the fic! But you can’t submit it for the International Fanworks Day WIPBB Mini Bang because it’s over the maximum word count. But be proud of yourself for finishing the fic!

Is there anything not allowed? As long as you wrote it and you want to finish it, you're welcome to participate. Original fiction is fine. RPS/RPF is fine. Incest pairings are fine. Things like that I know have been hinted at in questions asked and as long as you tag for them, we’ll allow it. Also, canon settings with mostly OCs is allowed. We just ask that it be tagged properly with any content warnings you would deem fit and be given the appropriate rating for the level of sex/violence there is in the fic.

What's the etiquette around OC-centric stories? Ones that are set in a well known fandom and use several characters, but still lean a lot on original characters? Are they discouraged, or fine? As there is no art claims for this Mini Bang, having mostly OC-centric stories is more than fine.

What is, and do I need, a beta? A beta is basically a person who goes over your work to make sure that there are no spelling/grammatical errors and they can even be of assistance in helping you with story lines, etc. It is highly recommended that a beta looks over your work before posting. If you are having trouble finding a beta, try the Discord community.

Where can I post my fic/art? Stories and art can be posted to your own personal journal, Tumblr, ff-net, AO3, or wherever you like. For those of you with AO3 accounts, we will set up a collection that will go live on the first day of the posting. If you don’t currently have an AO3 account but would like one, you can contact the mods for an invitation code to see if they have any available. You can also add yourself to the AO3 Invites Request queue.

What does posting look like? Do we have to post the whole thing on the day, or can we stretch it out between when posting starts and our date? I’ve had a few longfics get killed by big bangs forcing posting to happen on a given day, and would prefer to avoid that if possible. For most fics, posting to AO3/FF.net/other places will be allowed to start on February 7th and you can stretch it out as many posts as you want as long as the complete fic is up by the posting dates (February 15th to Febrary 22nd). However, if you need to post earlier you can start posting February 1st. we want to work with writers to give them ample time to post the story up to their posting date.

Now, as for posting to the communities, you can post at any time between February 15th and February 22nd, without picking a posting date. You’ll post bragging rights similar to those used during the full length WIPBB to Tumblr and/or Dreamwidth with a link to your fic an your bragging, if you choose to include that portion.

How come there aren’t 'art claims'? The quick turnaround in time and the length of time set to write doesn’t leave a lot of time for artists to make art, so the only art allowed to be posted during this event is unfinished art from the 2024 round that has been finished.

Can I get an extension? Community extensions may be given in the event that the majority of the authors/artists need one. They may also be given individually under certain circumstances, but this must be discussed with the mods and will only be a short extension for posting.

Can I swap out a fic if my muse abandons it again? Since you’re not signing up with specific works, you are more than free to swap fics out with other ones.

Can I drop out? Absolutely! This is a lo pressure event so since you aren’t signing up to finish any particuar fic, you can drop out of the event without telling the mods as well.

Are we allowed to participate without joining the Discord? Absolutely! The Discord server is optional, as just another way to interact with your fellow writers and get updates on important dates. It’s not mandatory you join, however.

I was just wondering if there’s any way to enter the bang anonymously? Like would it be okay to put our work in an anonymous collection on ao3 or something? Unfortunately, I can’t think of a way for that to work. The collection that we use is moderated but it’s not anonymous, and there are the bragging posts that you post to Tumblr and/or Dreamwidth, which you would have your username on whichever platform you use. If you don’t want to use a Tumblr or Dreamwidth account for posting your bragging rights, however, you can always send them to the mod account and we can post them on your behalf.

I was just wondering whether I'm sworn to secrecy on which fics I'll be finishing up, or if I can shout it out to the world? No one is sworn to secrecy once they’ve picked a fic to write (aside from posting new parts to fic that’s already up somewhere…we ask that you refrain from doing that until at least February 1st)! If you want to share snippets of your fic as you make progress, that’s fine, just don’t share the whole thing until posting time starts.

I have a question/concern that’s not mentioned here. If you need help, you can always contact a mod and we will do our best to make sure that you get your story/art finished. The best and fastest method of contact is through our email, wipbigbang@gmail.com.

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE NEW GENERATION SUPERSTARS | TO A GOOD SEASON

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. ollie and y/n talk for the first time... even if it's over text. takes part right after the strategy reveal

content warnings. smau, not edited/proofread

notes. have this first chapter before i dip into my holidays hehe

hey y/n! i hope you don't mind me reaching out, but i thought it would be good, since we're the only rookies and never properly met :) to a good season!

oh hi oliver! i don't mind at all, thank you for the message. to a good season for us

are you busy with preperations as well?

yeah

ferrari is definitely a step up from f2, haven't had a free minute for weeks now

welcome to f1 lol 😂

leclerc treating you well? it must've been a mess with sainz...

no worries, charles has been very welcoming, i'm really honored to be his teammate. and the thing with carlos... yeah, it was a bit, but we actually get along well

good good, wanna see you racing and not getting distracted by some bitch fighting in the garage

lmao 😂😂

nah nah, all good. to be honest, he's still a bit prickly about how ferrari and lewis handled those rumors... but well, it isn't really my business

good good

have to run, dad wants to wrap up our moves to ny

but we'll see each other soon, yeah? lemme know when you have time for a proper talk, we definitely have to stick together as rookies

the grid can be a cruel world

alright, have a nice day! don't know about free time yet, but the lastes we'll see each other will be in bahrain

awesome, till then oliver :)

you can call me ollie

let's meet up in bahrain

hello to you too, y/n

hello ollie

so, let's meet up

i'll be there a few day earlier, you as well?

i actually planned to come with ferrari, but i can come earlier!

awesome. you can entertain me then :)

what about the rest of your team?

kev is back with his family and doesn't want to leave them too early, my dad is busy because the president is an incompetent fuck, harley and peter are working on publishing a paper before they join and the rest is just generally busy

damn. alright, as long you plan everything? i have nothing prepared lol

sure! we can go training together and i know a few nice places we can hit before the stress begins

great!!

i'll send you the data later, don't worry, i'll pay for the hotel

you really don't have to

i don't care, you're hanging out with me, i will pay for stuff. i know you could stay at home but you're gonna spend time with me so shut it

alright

hehe, until bahrain. can't wait!!

until then, y/n 😊

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @themercyverse , @lehm-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles , @fangirl-dot-com , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikifiguerido , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora , @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 , @greeneyesandsunshine ,  @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[deancaspinefest]

Cosmic Consequences

Author: MittenWraith (mittensmorgul) | Artist: Categoryfour

Posting on Saturday March 22

Dean's been struggling for weeks to find a way to save Cas from the Empty. He'd hoped Jack would spare just a smidge of his new-found God power to do him that one last favor. In an act of desperation, he turns to Rowena for help. Rowena knows a brilliant opportunity when she sees one, but neither of them could've expected the cascade of side effects that threaten to undermine the natural order just when they thought they might finally have freed themselves from cosmic problems once and for all. All signs point to Chuck's power screwing over the universe, and very specifically the Winchesters, all over again. With nothing left to fight back with, they put all their hope in the power of love. Maybe this time it will work…

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

“Are you sure this is gonna work, Dean?” Sam asked as he watched his brother frantically put the final ingredients into the brass bowl on the makeshift altar they’d constructed in the dungeon, right at the spot where Cas had disappeared weeks earlier.

Dean ignored him as he focused on the work, at the tail end of a marathon he’d run trying to find a way to save Cas. At least it had been the only catastrophe he’d had to deal with since they’d saved the world.

They’d saved the whole damn multiverse, canceled Chuck’s publishing contract over their lives, and finally earned their freedom, sure. But at what cost? Was Dean really supposed to just let his only real shot at happiness vanish forever? Didn’t he deserve at least that one small thing after decades of struggling just to get by? And didn’t Jack, of all people, understand that?

Fueled by the weight of Cas’s final confession before he was dragged off into the inky void, Dean had plowed through every resource they had in the bunker’s extensive collection. He’d talked to every hunter and psychic he could find, raided every library with a half-decent collection in a five hundred mile radius. At one low moment, he’d even summoned a reaper to ask if the Empty had a back door he could sneak through to drag Cas back out. None of that research had amounted to anything until a last desperate plea to Jack went unanswered. Dean finally caved and put all his hopes into the only thing he hadn’t tried yet. He went back to Hell to visit Rowena.

Just as he was doing now, Sam had grumbled out his concerns when he’d helped Dean construct the spell to transport him to Hell. Despite his misgivings, Sam had held the portal open for him, with Eileen’s help. Luckily Dean hadn’t had much trouble convincing Rowena to lend a hand to his project. At least, not once he’d managed to find her.

“You poor boy,” she’d said, looking at him with pity after he’d explained their current circumstances. “I bet you didn’t even take my advice from the last time you visited. Never had a chance to properly patch things up with your angel?”

Dean ran his hands up his face and into his hair, turning his back on her for a moment before trying to compose himself. “Yeah, that’s the problem. We kinda got halfway there before things went sideways again. We were good. Mostly.”

She studied him critically, and then nodded once, sure of her assessment. “And there’s just a few more unsaid things left between you, and you want a chance to say them.” She sighed, got up from her chair, and swept across the room to a bookshelf. “I believe I may know a way to help.”

Keep reading on Ao3 after Saturday March 22 🌲Find more 2025 Pinefest previews here 🌲

[dawnoftime22]

"my love, darling, sweetheart."

| W.M ( -> N.R )

Undeserving of a love like yours, Chapter 1

Chapter Warnings: None (series warnings in series masterlist)

Summary: A peaceful day spent with Wanda.

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 2.1k

Category: Fluff, for now.

A/N: well here it is finally :] this is an old story of mine I never published that I decided to remake, finish up, and post gradually, that miiight also eventually break your heart...but I hope you all enjoy <3

| Started on 29/12/2023, 11:19 PM |

| Finished on 05/01/2024, 9:28 AM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

Chapter 2 ->

“Let the sun kiss your skin softly.”

|——————————— ᗢ ———————————|

It was a sunny day. The sun kept shining in your eyes, and you had to shield yourself with your hands.

You held your hands out to the sky, as if touching it, but only the wind visits your hand. That is practically the sky, after all. Air. Wind. Moisture. You curl your fingers into a fist, firmly clenching it to perhaps capture the cool breeze, only to feel the warmth of your hand's skin against each other, making the cold fade away.

You end up letting your arm drop down to your side, and sigh. There was nothing better, truly, than soaking in a moment of calmness like this. Upon hearing footsteps though, you await what comes for you.

A familiar brunette appears in your view above, eradicating the sunshine and the bright blue sky. She looked down on you softly, your body laying restfully against the grass that moved along with the wind, but is flat underneath your back.

"I got us cakes," she says, sitting down beside you and putting the container down on the ground. You carefully prop yourself up with your elbows until you're sat up properly.

It was your favorite kind. Your lips turn up into a smile, and you grab the small fork while your legs settled into a criss-crossed position. Your hands reached to open the container, the corners clicking open.

The brunette watched you with amusement as you didn't hesitate to grab it. The bakery you loved was right near the park you're at, so it was the perfect time to go when it caught her eye. The man behind the counter had happily greeted her, knowing she's the partner to one of the patrons. The patron, is of course, you. But it was starting to become her new favorite bakery, too.

Wanda had also gotten a bag of warm freshly baked cookies, so she opted to unravel the top of the paper bag and take one, her cake sitting unopened next to yours.

You hum when the smell of the lovely cookies traveled to your nose, making you turn your head to her instead of your slice of cake. She was taking a bite of the cookie, the piece melting in her mouth.

Your hand leaves the fork in the cake container and goes to grab one for yourself, little crumpling noises making sound from the bag as it moved due to your hand.

While the both of you ate your delicacies, you soon space out far off in the distance of the park. Somewhere near there, someone sat at a bench with birds surrounding them and some seeds in their hand.

Beside the scene was another of a little golden retriever happily playing around with another dog, chasing each other around, and sometimes the two of them would stop, the husky looking dog teasing the other one by moving its paws forward, but not running again.

You soon stop focusing on those and turning your attention back to Wanda, but once you look at her, an irresistible smile grows on your face and you have to turn to your cake instead.

"What?" She asks, a breath of a laugh coming through the word. Wanda wondered why you would turn away so quickly. She knew she could make you blush easily, but she hasn't even said or done anything.

"Nothing, you just have some crumbs near your mouth." You shook your head, taking a spoonful of your cake to put in your mouth and look at her once more.

"Oh." Her hand goes up to wipe it off her face, but she went to the wrong side. Her eyes focused on you, visibly struggling to find it because she knows it's not gone due to simply your smile growing.

"No, the other side." You say, helping her. She gets it and looks at you expectantly. You nod, and put a thumbs up, making her reflect your smile.

"You got it." You finish off the last of your cake, and pop the lid back on. Soon your attention drifts off to the sky and the gold shining through the clouds. Wanda follows, and sees the sun behind you, making you glow like an angel.

"We should go to the lake. We can take some beautiful pictures there." She said, tiltng her head slightly, and you see her brunette hair starting to soak in the sunlight. Your eyes brightened at the sentence though, and a soft gasp comes from you.

"Yes! We should." Her lips rise up into a smile once more, and she grabs the bag of cookies before going to stand up. You follow along with your empty container and hers that still had a cake.

You turn to walk with her towards the nearby lake. Since the sunset was only just starting, you had more than enough time to arrive there. A cool breeze goes by, visiting your skins and your hairs. The water that started to come into your view properly, too, was moving with the wind.

The trees shaped the lake beautifully and openly. Not many people were around, especially because nighttime is soon coming around. But it made it all the more better.

Wanda took out her phone from her pocket and started taking some pictures. You stood by, but placed down the containers at a nearby bench and kneeled down to grab a couple small rocks to keep in the palm of your hand.

A thought to take some pictures, too, crossed your mind, but with the present reason of having forgotten to bring your camera, you decided against it.

You stood up and held only one rock in the other hand, throwing it on the water. It jumped lightly against it and splashed, until it dropped to below the water. Wanda turns her phone to you and you look at her.

"Nooo, don't take pictures of me! Look at the lake!" You point your finger towards it before throwing another rock. She moved her phone along the movement, and you assumed she was not just taking pictures, but videos. That rock went farther than the previous one.

"But you're more beautiful than the lake or the sunset!" She says, and you shake your head with a tinge of blush on your face. Once she was done, she walked closer to you with a smile and put her hand out.

You gave her the rest of the rocks in your hand except for one and she threw them. It only jumped twice and you try your hardest not to laugh or smile too wide.

"Okay, that was only my warmup." She says, looking at you with a warning before preparing for another throw. You only hum in response, knowing that it was an obvious excuse.

Wanda throws another, and it does skip farther, before it splashed entirely and disappeared into the water. The clouds had melted into the skies by now, and the last rock you had, you put into one of your pockets.

"I think that one jumped more than yours." You grabbed the cakes and turned away from the lake, now starting to walk to, perhaps, the car. The brunette was behind you anyways though, the place seemed to get darker, with the sun sinking down in the horizon.

"Nope, it did not." You say softly, glancing at her before focusing on the path towards the car once more. She raised her eyebrows at you. To be honest, the two of you got the same amount of jumps in the water with the rocks.

"Sure it did." She adds, wanting to be right. You were getting closer to the car, and she brought out her keys from her pocket, unlocking the car.

"Nope." You repeat, a playful smile on your face when she managed took a look at it at from her driver side just through the windows. She shakes her head with a smile of her own.

You pull the door handle and it opens. You sit in the passenger's side and close the door, your next move being to click the seatbelt on. Wanda had already done the same, and she's starting the engine.

The car powers up and the screens light on. She makes sure to adjust the ac temperature before moving from off the parking spot and into the main road slowly and carefully.

As the truck tires hit the road, the quiet humming of the car is added with the sound of concrete and small pebbles hitting the tires. You look out the window and watch the other cars pass by. There's people on the side of the street.

A florist, holding a boquet of flowers ready to go in a vase. Or perhaps a bought gift, as they're heading for their bicycle. The warm sunlight shone down on the florist, making out a pretty scene. Oh, dear, moments like these filled your heart with life.

Wanda looks at you softly for a second, seeing you spaced out the window. Her hand goes up to turn on the radio, finding a channel that holds good music. She focuses back on the road once she's gotten it.

The songs were calm. Perhaps even encapturing the entire feeling of today. Trees passed by. Streetlights passed by. The lights are on already, and the moon's showing up. Birds are retreating back to their houses, just as you are currently doing.

You look over to your other side, where Wanda sat, her fingers drumming, and her head nodding along the rhythm of the music. She was...so, so pretty. The car comes to a gentle stop, but you hadn't arrived just yet, only at a red light.

"I can see you staring," she says quietly with her eyes focused on the road. Her foot pushed on the pedal once more when the light turned green, and she went to make a turn.

"It's hard not to," you respond, saying only the truth. She glanced at you again, the corners of her lips raising. Buildings went by in her own window.

That is, until she goes into the driveway of your shared house. The car stops and Wanda slides her seatbelt off along with you. She turns the engine off, and the music turns into a quiet silence.

You grab the cookies and cake then open the door, getting out. She locked the car by the time the both of you had closed the doors, and she had grabbed all the items inside.

With the keys in her hands already retrieved from her pockets, she walks to the front door and inserts the key, unlocking it. You were waiting behind her on the porch, and she enters first with you at her back.

The lights in the house were flicked on by Wanda and she goes back to the front to close the door, considering your hands were full. You got your shoes off and went to place the small desserts in your hand onto the kitchen island.

When you looked behind you, the brunette was choosing a vinyl from her shelf to play, her face concentrated. She chooses one right as you went to sit on the couch, her hand carefully grabbing the disc out its sleeve to gently put on the turntable.

She plays the record and slowly drops the needle down on the vinyl, it eventually playing out a soft, mellow tune, one perfect for dancing.

When you see her walking towards you, you expected nothing more or less than an offer. You smile once she holds her hand out for you, a way to ask you to dance. You hesitate, but you gently take her hand, your body getting pulled up with your heart's answer.

She puts her hands around your waist and starts swaying gently to the music, while you settled with your head on her shoulder, your mind wandering with the thoughts of everything.

Outside, sounds of rainfall starts pattering down. The windows filled with drops of it all, but with the curtains closed you couldn't. Although the noise made it clear that it wasn't the record player, or anything else.

You looked up at Wanda, and you can see her gazing back down at you, her eyes meeting yours softly. A small smile goes on her face, the two of you ever so lost in the love you held.

She whispers softly, "I love you," and your heart did leaps in your chest. You've been together for a while, but she's never said such a sentence until this very moment. It came as a surprise.

"I love you, too." You lean back slightly to look at her more, and you can physically see the happiness that fills her face.

end of chapter 1. <3

Series Masterlist Chapter 2 ->

A/N: I am terribly sorry to say that there won't be this much happiness in the later chapters :')

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

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[kellygreeny]

Christmas in Diamond City

Chapter 1: Synths are not made for winter

Summery: This is a story about the two sides of winter people. The ones who hated it and the ones who love it. And guess what, these two became pretty good friends beforehand, but can the winter lover bring some christmas sprit to her grinch friend?

Note: This is my first real work and a test for later. I try to get into writing and publishing my writing. I wrote a lot over the past 4 years but never come to post something of it. So have fun with this little holiday special. It starts slightly angsty but it will get fluffy at the end. I put in the beginning some headcannons I have for Nick.

Wordcount: 829

Nick Valentine hated winter. Hate is even for him a strong word but the coldest time of the year didn´t do something good to him at all. It already starts in autumn, when the leaves started to fall and the humidity gets unbearable high. He always needed to be careful that his unprotected hand didn´t rust away, but especially in the wet days of fall, the humidity crept into his core like cold crept into bones. He felt like, he was corroding from the inside.

But that wasn´t the worst of this time. Nick needed to change his coolant twice a year. When the days became colder, he needed one with anti-freeze in it, which was thicker and his pumps had more work to do to keep it circulating if needed. The process of exchanging was humiliating, too. He needed half a day, just sitting there and waiting until the old coolant was out and the new coolant with the anti-freeze got pumped in. Just sitting with an open chest and waiting. Nick tried to distract himself from the terrible feeling he always got in the process by reading. He read a book or went through some case files. Besides him was always a cigarette burning. Sometimes, he put it to his lips. This old habit from his former self was soothing somehow, even if he didn´t get something out of it physically. Until the new coolant was finally in him, he emptied a whole package. Fortunately, cigarettes was still as common to find as NukaCola.

He cannot bear company during this time. Ellie sometimes helped with the tubing, but he didn´t want to bother her too much with it. He didn´t want her to saw him so vulnerable. Heck, he only can bear to be seen like this by people he really can trust, which was Ellie, Nora by now and his first mechanic, he didn´t know his name anymore. He did many of his repairs by himself most of the time, but sometimes he just needed a helping hand.

But the coolant wasn´t his only issue in the winter. His joints got stiff in the cold and exchanging the lubricant was a far more difficult tasked, so he often stayed inside when the weather got too extreme, which wasn´t always possible. Nick had been once surprised by a snowstorm, which were pretty rare after the bombs and even more unpredictable. It had frozen him to one place. As a human, he probably would had been dead, but he wasn´t keen on waiting until summer to be finally able to move, again either. But he had been lucky. He was found by a caravan who he had helped out once. They had warmed him up and escorted him back to diamond city. This winter he found enough excuses to not leaving his agency or at least DC.

And last but not least, he was haunted by memories, which wasn´t his own. Prewar Nick Valentine loved winter and especially Christmas. The lights, the smells, the food. And he had loved it because Jenny had loved it. She had decorated the house, cooked and baked the most delicious food. What would he do to properly taste food, again. The institute messed up his taste buds, but hey at least he got some. Even if food hadn´t a big effect on him physically like smoking. The food just got combusted and produced some heat, but that´s all. And through his messed up taste buds, it even didn´t taste good. Sometimes, Nick´s memories made it better, remembering the taste, but nether the less, he didn´t enjoy eating anymore. Food was also a rare resource and the people of the Commonwealth need it more than him.

Nick shook his head to dispel the memories, which stung in his chest. Maybe it was his pumps fighting with the thicker coolant. He thought, after killing Eddie Winters, Nick Valentine was finally gone, but his memories were still there. He still lives in him with all his good and bad times. But especially the good times were the ones hurting the most. The memories of Nick´s fiance smile, even if it became indistinct.

The good thing was, the people of the Commonwealth didn´t know the traditions anymore. They had other problems to deal with than buying expensive presents and decorating a way too big tree. So, this memories weren´t directly triggered around every corner. Maybe it would had been something else, if the bombs dropped two month later. He only was reminded of Halloween here and there, which was kinda ironic in a post apocalyptic world. And in all his years around the Commonwealth, he only saw two or three times really snow, which he wasn´t mad about.

Nick was pulled out of his thoughts when his door opens. Still sitting there with an open chest.

Tag list: @psybrepunk

prev /next Chapter

[majaloveschris]

You know, another blog made a good point I hadn’t thought of before: that both sides are feeding the narrative, and that’s why it seems like this whole thing will never end. I mean, how long has it been said or implied the end was near, and what happens instead? New content is always dropped. It was said that he fired Megan, and that he cut Tara off, but what happened? Megan and Tara both show up at the New York premiere after not being seen for almost the entire year. And his whole family was there, after it was implied he wasn’t on speaking terms with them.

I honestly think they’re (his team) torturing and gaslighting the fandom on purpose now, because let’s be honest, the blogs and the fan accounts are the only ones paying close attention to everything. The general public doesn’t care about either of them. They don’t even know who she is. He’s not properly know outside of Captain America. So why do all this stuff to cover their bases if the general public isn’t asking the questions the fandom is asking? Blogs make a point about the immigration laws, and the brands that are connected to this whole thing, but the general public isn’t consciously aware of any of that. The average person can’t spot a specific brand of watch or clothing, and they can’t list immigration laws off the top of their heads. Why would these little things be spotted or cared about by the general public?

A part of me wonders if both sides are all plants, whether they realize it or not, because both sides in their own way have been the driving forces carrying this stunt to where it is now. Everytime something happens, who talks about it most? Who points things out? Who makes lists of the holes and the things that don’t add up? Both sides are being used; one side just got paid and the other side didn’t. But they’re both being used to keep the manipulation and the gaslighting going. And I don’t think they even realize it.

How many times has certain blogs changed their rhetoric as to why a breakup article hasn’t been published yet? How every time an anon calls out that what they say doesn’t add up, they magically have an explanation? I’m not discounting the things they got the right, but they always seem to get the biggest thing wrong. Now it’s that all players are always brought in for the finale, but what will be the new explanation for November ends and a breakup still hasn’t happened? What will it be when December rolls around and it still hasn’t happened then either?

Sometimes I stand on the outside looking in, and I see just why this whole things keeps going, around and around in circles, a cycle that just keeps on going and never changes. The people who pay attention to it are just as much players in this game the same way Chris and Alba and everyone else is. And it doesn’t matter if you only post make one post about it, or if you post social media numbers or do tarot readings or debunk every single thing that comes out, you contribute to the stunt. You keep it going. Even I’m doing that by sending this. Like everyone who is exhausted, I wish they would just end this. I wish Chris would stand up for himself and put himself, and everyone around him and all of us watching, out of misery. A fan called this a “push and pull” and that’s exactly what it is. It’s like a bad carousel that won’t end. And honestly, it won’t stop until everyone decides they’ve had enough and just gets off, all players included.

Yeah, talking about this whole relationship definitely feeds the narrative, but that's not the reason why this whole thing is still going on. Even if nobody gave a shit about them, or even people would believe they are real and nobody would doubt it, this whole thing would still be going on. We aren't the ones keeping this alive, and we won't be the ones ending it either. This will end when they want it to end; it is simply that. 

Not everybody is going around telling people that the end is near or that it's already ended, and I don't agree with those who do it. Nobody here can know for a fact when and how this ends, and people shouldn't be spreading this whole thing either, especially after they were proved to be wrong a hundred times. This whole thing ends when they say it ends, not when some random person reading a blog says so. But people shouldn't believe it either when they say something like that. Nobody here knows when this ends, so spare yourself from disappointment and don't believe everything you read online. 

The whole "he fired Megan and he cut Tara" thing comes from the fandom. They haven't said or done anything that would give even the slightest indication that he did those things. You can't blame them for something they had nothing to do with? Did Chris say those things? No. Did he imply those things? No. People made those things up. You say it's been implied, and then they appear somewhere. But we can't hold them accountable for things they have nothing to do with. If some people think he did something without any evidence, but then he proceeds to do the exact opposite, it's not his fault. 

Just like in every fandom, most contents are for us. We are the ones sharing it, making it more viral, but saying they are torturing us is a bit of a reach. I agree about the gashlight part, since we believe this is not real, but they keep trying to prove us otherwise. Everybody can decide whether they want to be here or not. We all know what we "signed up" for, and we are all free people who can do whatever they want. If you think this is torture, you can leave and spend time with things that make you happy. Nobody forces anybody to stay here; they don't either. If it's something that has a huge negative effect on your mental health, just walk away; it doesn't worth it. They don't want the general public to care about immigration laws or specific brands. Other than those things, this is not real; people don't care, and they don't want you to do so. They want people to believe this is real, and the GP won't start digging deeper because they don't care, nor do those people who think this is real. They didn't expect this at the very beginning; they thought most people would believe this was real and wouldn't ask questions. 

This plant question is hard because I don't think everybody is paid here. Some people are just way too involved, but that doesn't mean they are getting paid. Do we help them with pointing things out? Probably. But again, we aren't the ones making this longer lasting than it was supposed to be. Even if we weren't talking here, all of this would still be going on. Maybe they wouldn't get as many good tips as they do, but the duration of this relationship isn't on us. 

Some people love acting like they know everything and that they have knowledge about everything, but that doesn't make them plants. Some people are really impulsive, and they say things based on limited information. But not everybody is like them. 

Thinking this whole thing would magically end if we stopped talking about this is a reach, I think. And it's never going to happen. There will always be people talking about this, but if this is fake, it has to end at some point, right? It's not going to last forever just because we post about it. 

This thing will end when they want it to end. We can do and say whatever we want; it's going to end sooner just because of us. 

If I can be honest with you, this whole thing is just not that deep. Some people take this whole thing way too personally and spend way too much time thinking and caring about it. I like sharing my thoughts about this, but that's it. I spend maybe like 30 minutes of my life with this and then deal with my own things. After all, whether they are really together or not is not going to affect my life. How a Hungarian saying says; it won't make bread cheaper. Would it be disappointing? Yeah, because of the person she is. But we can't let this whole thing ruin even a single moment of our lives for us. Our lives are much more important than their fake relationship. 

[gogandmagog]

C’mon, I know you have a niche LMM post in your drafts to post, the tags are so empty 🤣

Lmaooo, I wish I had something good for this.

I don't know if it's really niche in a satisfying way, but it is certainly niche in a would-anyone-else-bother-themselves-thinking-about-this sort of way? 🥸 Here’s my most recent draft (that isn’t just a note to myself):

All just because a couple of weeks ago, I was reading this book of letters/correspondence between two Cambridge Apostles from around 1910 to 1915. Of course, the Apostles weren’t exactly a frat, so much as a secretive intellectual society, but as with most things, even the tiniest incidentals mentioned in (nearly any) text (or letters, in this case) will immediately return me to splitting Montgomery hairs, so basically I was (am, really) just over here fixating on the possible origins of the (quite fictional lol) Lamba Theta of Redmond.

To begin with, I’m 99% certain that it ought to actually be Lambda Theta* (lambda [λ] is the eleventh letter in the Greek alphabet), since Lamba doesn’t appear anywhere in the Greek dictionary, never mind the alphabet. That kind of small error was enough to launch me properly down a rabbit hole of Victorian (and then Edwardian) frats at Dalhousie University (Redmond’s basis), to see if there were any similarly named that might’ve presented itself as serving for Maud’s basis for the Lambs. As it turned out, there’s nothing. 🙃 The very first frat established at Dalhousie was Phi Kappa Pi, and that wasn’t until 1923... when LMM had attended some three decades earlier, back in 1895. Anne of the Island even predates frats meeting at DU, since it was first published in 1915.

For some scale, the first Canadian frat ever was est. in 1879 (Zeta Psi) at the University of Toronto, and then again in 1883, the same frat opened another chapter over at McGill.

Anyway, I guess was/is just interesting to me that when Maud was inventing up a whole fraternity for her alma mater’s fictional stand-in, she really wouldn’t have had any first-hand experience with one. 🤨 And yet… she understood enough of them to’ve had Gilbert rush/be initiated (with sun-bonnets and calico aprons), in order to become a fully pledged member. Google says that fraternities as we know them now didn’t become notable or popular in the States (which Canada was rather behind) until the mid-late 19th century. Sooo, I suppose Lamba Theta is attributable to just that (a thing of cute pop-culture), or else Zeta Psi at UT was infamous enough for word to get around, to even the more rural areas (there’s 1,801.7 km between UT and Dalhousie btw), about their proceedings.

*the first real Lambda Theta frat/sorority was founded in 1973, at Kean University, and it is a Latino/Latina fraternity; their colours are burgundy and grey - actually quite alike the colours of Redmond University

[nevermoorsource]

Jessica Townsend’s recent Instagram post (7/2/24):

Hello! It’s me, Jess. 😊🩷 I am unspeakably delighted to tell you that the (absolute, for sure, official!) publication dates for Silverborn: The Mystery of Morrigan Crow will be 30 April (Australia/NZ), 08 May (UK) and 24 June (US) 2025. I am even more thrilled to share these STUNNING Australia/NZ and US covers, with artwork by the forever brilliant Jim Madsen (who I think has PROPERLY outdone himself this time, just quietly). I’ll also be revealing the beautiful UK cover in the coming weeks! I can’t wait to hear what you think about all three. You may have clocked (particularly if you’ve preordered) that there have been some date changes since my last announcement here. I know April 2025 is later than you’re currently expecting, and I also know how exasperating it can be to wait so patiently for something and then find out you have to wait EVEN LONGER. For this reason, I’ve deliberately held off on announcing any further date changes on social media until now — I wanted to wait until I knew for absolute, definite, no-doubt-about-it certain that the date I told you would be THE ONE. (Although FYI, from an industry perspective my publishers are under a whole different set of pressures, meaning dates have had to be changed online and with booksellers for many sensible reasons. And of course we all VERY MUCH HOPED those dates would work out, but I’ve never felt like I could tell you another pub date myself unless I felt 100% confident I could make it happen.) I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your kindness and patience during the wait for Silverborn! It’s been a long one, partly for various life reasons but also because, frankly, she is a BEAST. In a good way! A LOT happens in this book. Silverborn launches what I’ve always thought of as Act II of Morrigan’s story, but it’s also book 4 of 9, which means there are by now a lot of threads to begin untangling, and even more to lay down for future books. I’m so, so, SO excited for you to read this part of the story next April, and in the meantime I’ve got some fun stuff for you in the coming days and months — I’ll talk some more about this in my Instagram stories imminently! Love JT xx

[someoneintheshadow456]

I said before, now that Cait Corrain’s true self has come out, I can finally elaborate on what happened with her. To put a long story short, I was one of her very first victims - long before she became an original fiction author and back when she was known as Enterprisingly on AO3 - the author of Play to Win.

I know that #reviewbombgate was back in December, but at the time, I did not know about it because I’m not involved in BookTok. However, I WAS involved with the Reylo fandom, albeit indirectly.

The final chapters of Play to Win went on a tangent that seemed bizarre to me at the time. In fact, it seemed so strange that I brushed it off almost completely. It was only when I found Play to Win’s Wayback Machine page after recalling memories of the Reylo fandom last year when I read the chapter properly (instead of skipping ahead to get to the Reylo scenes). And a proper reading made me realize what was so unnerving about it:

Anyone who has engaged with my blog (especially from 2015-2019, when I used to post a lot more content about my personal life) can see the strangely... specific way this character was described. In order to go into this level of depth, one has to have been following me intently and keeping tabs of all the personal things I posted.

And then, she goes from eerily specific descriptions, to straight up maliciously lying about me:

Keep in mind, this screed takes up an ENTIRE chapter in itself. Said character, Ejya Fjord, is a background NPC who is mentioned a total of 121 times in a 161,000 word story. In fact, her name is mentioned so little that you could be forgiven for not remembering her at all:

You'd think, if someone would do something like this, I had to have done something terrible to her, or even just gave her a negative review. But I never did.

As you can see here, I have only engaged positively with her. Since Play to Win was also taken down and you can’t see old comments on Wayback Machine. Unfortunately after this, I can only give my word without receipts.

Play to Win was published first in 2018. I reviewed her story in March of 2018, possibly even earlier. In my review, I praised the writing, worldbuilding, and dialogues, but gave a small constructive criticism in that the politics could be better integrated into the story without feeling disjointed.

In the very early chapters, Ejya was clearly intended to be 100% Swedish - as one can tell from the name. However, at some point in the later half of the story, she retroactively became mixed race and a rival for Ben's affections, while Ben seems to be having none of it. It's clear these choices were made to portray me as some kind of horny fangirl for Kylo Ren who will stomp on other girls for his sake:

When I read the last chapter first, I was horrified. But now I'm just... bemused that someone would ever see me as some kind of calculating vixen who dresses like a Euphoria high school student and only likes masculine hobbies to pick up dudes. When in reality it took me until 2020 to be able to type the word "sex" without having heart attack and have never so much as posted a selfie on here.

It's also funny that Ejya is petite and flat chested while my actual body type is the exact opposite... which she would know since she stalked my blog so thoroughly. Almost as though she's implying something about her own insecurities...

Initially, I was under the impression that Corrain targeted me because of my association with @ainomica - due to her ruffling the Reylo fandom’s feathers (and ending up on Corrain’s hit list) over her opinions on John Boyega. However, that controversy happened in 2020. When Corrain wrote this libel about me, @ainomica wasn’t even on her radar, not to mention it was a year before we had ever even met. This libel was done to target me, and me exclusively.

In essence - Corrain weaved libel about me into her story because my existence pissed her off. We know now that Corrain had a penchant for targeting sapphic authors and WOC almost exclusively. So it's safe to say she was just being a typical white saviour liberal who shows what she actually thinks of minorities when they don't toe the line.

While this does make her less unhinged in my eyes than using me to target someone else, it still means that Corrain was, and always has been capable of aggression towards anyone she’s remotely offended by. Especially if said person happens to be a minority of some kind.

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The schedule as it currently stands is below. This schedule is subject to change depending on the situation. You will be notified of any changes.

March 3: Writer, beta and artist sign-ups begin March 24: Writer and beta sign-ups closed March 28: Brief summaries from writers for beta claims March 29-30: Beta claims March 31: Assignments May 7: Writer and beta check-in 1 May 7: Summaries due from writers for artist claims May 7: Artist sign-ups close May 9-11: Art claims May 12: Assignments June 18: Artist check-in 1 July 30: All check-in 2 August 30: Final drafts and art due September 6-7: Posting

Rules:

You must be part of the Malec Discord Server to participate in this event. 

You must be over 16 to participate and over 18 to create explicit works.

All content must be brand new and never before posted to any forum. All content must be polished and finished. No unfinished works or WIPs that you plan on continuing later will be accepted. Works that are added chapters/continuations of previously published works are not permitted unless they can be viewed/read as a standalone. 

Plagiarism and AI content will not be tolerated. All content must be the creator’s own original work. 

Writers are asked not to talk about their projects until after claims with anyone participating in this event to keep beta/artist claims fair. 

All content must focus on Shadowhunters universe characters (show and/or book verse.)

All Shadowhunters characters/ships are accepted. OCs/borrowed characters will be accepted as minor characters. 

AUs and crossovers are accepted as long as the Shadowhunters characters are the main focus.

Content of any rating and subject matter is accepted, but participants must make sure to include any relevant warnings throughout the entire event (I.e. warnings for betas/artists during matching) and properly tag their work. 

No blatantly hateful content of any kind. 

All participants are required to check-in with moderators at least twice throughout the event. All check-ins are integral to continuing to participate in the event. 

All participants must communicate readily with their assigned partners and vice versa. This is a collaborative effort. All participants must be open to the ideas of their partners. 

When you sign up for this event you are making a commitment to yourself, the mods, and your future partners to meet all posted deadlines and to communicate with the mods and your partners regularly. Please don’t sign up for the event unless you are confident that you can fully participate and be honest with yourself about what you can commit to. 

Please respect the mods and anyone working with you throughout this event. Certain complaints may disqualify you from this event. 

The password to make sure you’ve read/understand all rules is SHMB25. Remember this when you sign up. 

Writer Specific Rules:

Writers must write a minimum of 5,000 words to participate in this event. There is no maximum limit but please keep in mind the time constraints.

Submitted summaries (provided at check-ins) should provide a solid framework of what your fic is about and the final fic should not deviate too much from those summaries. In the event that it does, please contact a moderator and your partners. This is to ensure all partners are comfortable with their role throughout the event. 

Writers are expected to be respectful of their partners’ ideas. Writers will make all final decisions on their fics, but this event is a collaborative effort.

Artist Specific Rules:

Accepted forms of submitted art include: 

- Digital/physical art: 1 piece, 500px minimum

- Photomanipulation: 1 piece with significant editing

- Gifsets: 4 gifs (without watermarks)

- Moodboards: 6 graphics

- Video: 1 minute

- Playlists: 10 songs and a graphic

If you are inspired by your writer to create a piece of art not on this list, please feel free to reach out to a mod.  

Artists are expected to be respectful of writer’s ideas. Writers will make all final decisions on their fics, but this event is a collaborative effort.

Artists will need somewhere to host their work so that it can be embedded on AO3. Examples will be provided closer to posting date, if needed. 

Artists signing up for the event may not get their first pick when assigned their fic. Please be mindful of this! Ending your commitment because of this is not permitted and if you feel this will be an issue you should not sign up.

[distressednoise]

First lines game

Rules: List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice youself and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends. 

Thanks for the tag, @colleybri! I don't think I actually have 10 non-orphaned fics on AO3 because I wrote a tonne on LJ back in the 2000s, never moved it over and transitioned seamlessly to sending people snippets in the group chat and never finishing anything. HOWEVER here is what I haven't orphaned.

I came back just the same (Andor, Brassian)

When he was a boy, Brasso thought his mother knew everyone in the world. 

Back when I was 20 and wrote a lot of fic I had this very ingrained idea that your first line should automatically serve as your fic summary, like if you wouldn't use it as a summary it wasn't strong enough for a first line? Which is wrong but explains why I now work in marketing. Starting with a look into Brasso's family background actually represents ~growth here.

Turn you in and sit you down (Andor, Brassian)

Sometimes Cassian is amazed by the number of things he used to want.

This was the first fic I'd written in literal years and as this is very much the kind of first line/fic summary double dutch line 19 year old me always went for. Still young! Still got it!

A burglar's guide to the city (Guardian, Ye Zun/Zhao Yunlan)

It was the size of the place that made Ye Zun pause. 

This is a very stream of consciousness piece and I wanted to start off with something banal but definitely in the POV; also I am bad at tense slipping so I like a strong tense statement to refer back to when I inevitably confuse myself.

And the sky shrugged off her stars (Star Trek AOS, mostly gen?)

All McCoy knows is, it happened before Kehli.

To be honest I remember being quite proud of this when I wrote it in, uh, 2009, and I don't want to look back at it and find out if it's terrible so I'm just not. That is a sentence. It was the first one. Well done that sentence.

The Hamlet Effect (Hamlet/Torchwood crossover, major pairing bedhopping)

Everyone knew the rift took things. 

I...was not really in either of these fandoms properly when I was assigned this combo in a fic exchange and I think I managed to find a fun tone that fit them and allowed me to take the story in a circuitous route to my own thing and back to the themes of canon. For such a basic first sentence the fic does quickly get VERY squirrelly - I remember getting recs that were like "YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND THE FIRST THIRD, STAY WITH IT", and I like to think the simple opening paragraph helps a little.

Still the new world (Merlin, Merlin/Arthur)

The world is young, and Merlin within it, so when he sees the girl floating face-down in the canal he kicks off his shoes without thinking, shrugs off his jacket and leaps in, kicking through reeds and debris until his fingers close on the sodden fabric of her coat. 

When I wasn't writing first lines that predicted my future in marketing, I liked to do a very tonally serious first line leading into a very flippant joke. These days it's 100% pretentious run-on sentence but back in the day it was 50/50 pretentiousness/gags. Maybe Andor S2 will be a joyful romp and the ability to joke will return to me. Maybe?

The battle of Tulgey Wood (Merlin, gen)

“I’m not doing this anymore,” Merlin announced as he wrangled off his armour.

I have a very clear memory of writing this directly into the post box of my blog at the time, which means you can't read anything into it OR it's incredibly diagnostic, take your pic.

Tagging @programmedradly because I think two of these fandoms were actually their fault; @dixie12 @towez @nebulein and anyone else out there who hasn't done this already

[turtleations]

Interview with Sakaguchi Ken (Designer)

Published in the hide BIBLE (by Akemi Oshima) 2008

Note: This interview is the reason I have not posted anything for so long. Originally, I mean to skip it, because my brain took one look at this this in it's original form and said "Nope!" But here it is anyway. I do not believe that my translation does it justice but I did my best to at least uphold the structure, which is doing things to the Japanese language that should never be done.

Althought this is a "short", I am placing most of it under a cut for length.

Q1: When did you meet hide for the first time?

A: Us,   encountering  “hide”   on this star   for the first time   was BUCK TICK’s 1990.8.2 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM concert   Seibu stadium   Gekko-san   MOOL LIGHT    a wonderful night. SAKAGUCHIKEN FACTORY as well   the time of activation   and tomorrow   and overmorrow   until morning   the drinking   party   party   to the next place   to the next place   it doesn’t end!   Even today   and tomorrow   and overmorrow   it doesn’t end!  Doesn’t end!  Doesn’t end!  Obviously  it is   unending… Us, too   Kazumi Town Red Shoes   Ah   our own   outer space   swimming smoothly   flying   leaping, into   a new   session   drinking   too much   until then  to live  merrily   is to live   forever! Forever! Forever! Aah   even now   though it   doesn’t change   the rock music then   was foreeeever! To say   let it evolve   no way!   To see a new sun   the beings are   once again   ready   to release   a new   future  !  maybe   surely   so!  Directly   that was   a session! Already   from the   beginning!  Until the end… I say.   That’s right!   That we encountered “hide”   for the first time  was in Kazumi Red Shoes   that night. During the bubble period? Who knows   anyhow   it was an era   of illegal partying   pissed off by   the stupid cars   jumping on those stupid cars   while bussing   in this world   shaaan! Wanting to change it!   Overflowing with a sense of justice   a guy like that! Us, too   together   again   maybe   surely   so   to release   that new future!  Because he did!

Q2: Please tell us what kind of impression you had at the time.

A: Our first proper meeting was   after all   thoroughly drinking   from dusk till dawn   you know!

Coming from Extasy   this time    having made their major debut    from a newborn record company    the after party   of the rock band   “LUNA SEA”    we who handled the art direction and   “hide”    “INORAN”    “J”    the four of us    drinking    going past all limits    a cosmic time of seriously    talking to each other.    There was the “DANCENOISE004” compilation album. Released in 1993, I was handing the artwork. The participating artists were bringing in cutting edge dance beats, this album was, well, a digital beat album made as a unit. “SUGIZO”, “M-AGE”, “FUJITA-CB.GB.-TAKASHI”, and others. The unit “MxAxSxS” made of “X JAPAN’s” “HIDE”, “LUNA SEA’s” “INORAN” and “J” was participating. Actually, the art direction of that shot and the artwork for that album were the first time I had a session with “hide”.    In a wrecking yard    in Yokosuka.   Rocket.   PARK SIDE X���    I properly met    Matsumoto Hideto   and his roots.   A  n  d   t  h  e  n        a    n  d     t  h  e   n         A n  y  w  a  y    “hide”’s    existence   blood   was earnest.  Serious.

Also   because he was    someone   who said “I tell you   let it evolve”   I worked with him again   and   again.

Q3: Please tell us of an episode with hide that left an impression on you.

A: I did the art direction of the “hide” 1996 calendar we did together in L.A..

That! Yeah! “hide”   in his head   You! Art director! Supervisor! he said   as expected   someone   who   understood the universe.

There are many episodes.

Many    times    when   we joined   extremely    so amazing =☆   A    representative    of    Earth.

By the way    “hide”    has    in his time    as representative    gone beyond his time on Earth    with a BOOM.

At the record company    who was doing overtime    was    certainly   “hide”   and such.  The ideas for the jacket   are endless!    Endless!    Endless!   That    again   until the end    planning.    Moving on    from Earth time   fully   let’s expaaaaand it; he said    and did so    indefinitely…

Nevertheless    a beloved     important person   whatever happens    I won’t betray him –

In that L.A.   this again    right in front of    the beautiful stars    hide suddenly asked me, “Ken, when you broke your skull, what did you dream of?”

Me: “Only,,, only,,, a long pathway under the earth,,, fluorescent lamps going on endlessly,,, I was riding a stretcher,,, why am I being carried,,, that image” I said.

Hide said, “You ○○○”, such an ill omened thing to say,,,”Don’t be stupid, hide!” I answered. I guess–    hide was like no one else.

Over and over   after this    that’s right!    ∞,,,   No, again, again, not enough. Forever! ∞

Q4: What kind of person was hide to you?

A: He went around, went around, went around, went around, went around, went around, went around, went around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around   To the end   “hide”’s existence is right in front of me    Earnest.    At any time    whatever happens    without    betrayal    goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around,   at any time   at the start    next to me    laughing and saying    “Stupid Ken is gonna be stupid.”

Q5: If you ever saw him live, please tell us of your impression.

A: The event at Chiba Marine Stadium that was “hide” announcing LEMONed.

“LEMONed presents hide Indian Summer Special” !!!

Only chatting through an international phone call,,,   That I got to meet “hide” in person again, a long time since L.A….   The backstage guest since before the opening     already    beer was served    (we who loved alcohol took anti-nausea-medicine from hide’s younger brother and manager, “Hiroshi”-kun),,,  from that point I was exited for long, loooooong, for “hide” to start.

Anyway    that day too    Earth time or something    left it behind with a “BOOM”.    Really    exceeded it.

“KIYOSHI”   “PATA”   “CHIROLYN”    “JOE”    “DIE”    “INA”    Those seven people ,    extremely ,    already popped!   Blown away by the excitement    for the festival    around there!    Well, or weren’t they! “hide” was already throwing off the image of “hide the guitarist” like a set of clothes,,   !!   Leaped out of Chiba Marine Stadium with momentum, flew around on the stage. There were laser rays! Parachutes! A dog! Crossdressing CHIROLYN! DIE-chan’s fall! Bone fracture! There was!  Then, the final magnificent fireworks display! That kind of feeling,,, well.   Even on Earth    even in Japan,,,   There can be such a fun event! To say, really, they slayed it! We all got “hide’s” strong message that said, Let’s move on to the next world!

The afterparty of such an event, as maybe expected, began in a club in Ebisu, that “hide drinking version of autumn festival”, got terribly lively, turned into an even in the back! Goes without saying. The girls from the fashion show were also there, it was gorgeous…

No matter what, the mysterious people gathered there, they were,   a bottomless pit    of heavy   drinkers!!!!!!! That fun atmosphere went all the way to a food stall in front of Ebisu Station. From the main station, already at work rush, the salarymen and office ladies were hurrying to their companies in a flurry of activity. The party of mysterious people, and some OLs [office ladies] who happened to be nearby, went to buy bentos in a convenience store and eat them, until past noon,,, That laughing voice continued to eternity. (I was later shown group photos taken at that food stall in front of Ebisu Station by “Hiroshi”-kun, but,,, somehow, it was really a party of mystery people!)

“hide” and, “BUCK TICK’s” IMAI and, our time to go home was,,, Already! What! That’s all! Drink until the end!   ,,,,,,   No, no, that anti-sickness-medicine! I say, it worked well. Mr. Sun!

Q6: Out of hide’s songs, which is your favorite and why?

A: “SCANNER”

Really! We are skull-fracture brothers! We discussed the cosmos    a lot   plotted   of course   all the fun to come    after this    therefore

Even with this    this questionnaire    I can’t express it    like I want toooooooo–

Well! From that    let’s start    again and again    from this    that’s right! ∞ ,,,No, again, again, it’s not enough.         Forever! ∞   That’s right!   I guess so    we, too    the incomparable “Sakaguchiken”      We’ll laugh – okay!    G - g -   good waves  ,,  69! ∞

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Blood Drops on Roses Ch 16: A Trail of Blood and Shadows (Pt 2)

“So, I hear that you’ll be joining us for a while.” Legend said once he was seated. “Any idea how long that will be for?”

Wild vaguely waved a hand around in response. Twilight likely still wanted him to leave today, if he would. Impa’s command beheld him to them only until they reached Director Purah’s lab in Hateno. He… didn’t really know.

“Well, however long that is—” Legend leaned in, catching Wild’s eyes meaningfully “—is there any way that I can convince you to cut it a bit shorter?”

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

Important author's note under the cut, copy and pasted from the fic.

Okay time for a stupid long author's note now.

When I started publishing this fic, I had Character Death tagged, but not Main Character Death. I was confused on the differences in these tags, so let me clarify--there will be multiple deaths, permanent and temporary, secondary characters and main cast. If you dip out here, no shame, take care of your mental health bestie. If you're unsure, feel free to leave a message in my inbox on tumblr--there I'll go further into content if needed, but I won't confirm theories on who dies or lives. For potentially sensitive chapters, I'll also be adding trigger warning to the top notes and a summary at in the bottom notes, so if any of you wish to keep reading but want to avoid those chapters, you can do so.

For the rest of you that will keep reading, buckle up. You've been sufficiently warned, I hope.

I'm changed the rating to Mature, too, though this arc doesn't quite reach that level. I've been tagging as I go, but I'll try to get the entirety of arc 1 tagged before the next chapter comes out, which will include all the potential content tags I can think of.

If there are any kind of "niche" trigger warnings (I just saw a post about trigger warning hair cutting, which I will add now, but that never would have occurred to me tbh), feel free to comment and I'll make sure it's properly tagged if I have it in the fic.

Anyways, sorry for all the doom and gloom, hope you enjoy the chapter!