#VERY VERY rough outline

[trainer-sean]

Emeile is probably super scared about Adrien being a Sentimonster in this au, cause she doesn't know if the Peacock hero will just poof him(even though he is him) out of existence, so thats a secondary reason to get it back.

"Villains AU" I need to know more. Please!

short n ruff bc i have to go to bed: TDLR: a switcharoo from me to you

AU where Gabe gets the LB and CN miraculous, makes his miracle wish, but the cost is a bit... scrambled. Marinette and Adrien get the butterfly and peacock miraculous, and though Emelie is alive, Nathalie is now in a coma and Emelie is the one pushing the envelope on how to bring her back, in spite of Gabe being there - however, the rules of the miracle wish change every time reality is shifted.

Now, wishes can only be granted with the butterfly and peacock, soul and body, respectively. Tikki and Plagg's miraculous can't withstand another wish, and so the blessing goes to another pair.

additional notes

since Adrien has the peacock miraculous, he successfully retrieved his own amok and has it sealed somewhere safe. (with Marinette.)

though the butterfly miraculous has its own stipulations and downsides now, it makes Marinette's akumas are much stronger than Hawkmoth's, and are more evasive; IE, they don't flutter around uselessly once you break the akumatized object, they're fucking going street-smarts zigzag style and will actively divebomb away

Marinette and Adrien know each other's identities, but with their last timeline nuked, their shared intimacy initially comes from a place of shared trauma. they have to work through that later.

Emelie is super bi for Nathalie and Gabriel doesn't know how to feel about being second fiddle lol

[ouroborosreilig]

a post-apoc sci-fi laichi focused au

[appledoves]

something’s different with my yuri… (tgswiiwagaa art study)

[comatosebunny09]

you're good at this—playing all coy and social as if you aren't a clump of nerves ready to burst.

like your legs aren't bouncing beneath the table, and you haven't knocked your knees against its underside a few times, almost spilling your wine.

like you haven't bitten your lips to hell, and your teeth aren't stained with the pretty rouge of your lipstick because of it.

no one's the wiser to your plight. to the quiet war waging in your head and the anxiety spilling like lava into your extremities.

you'll never get used to this things, no matter how many you attend—these parties, these galas, these socialites, this acting.

none of it is you.

not the form-fitting gowns, the kohl clumped to your lashes, the facsimile of a smile you've worn all evening until your cheeks ached.

but through the chaos, one thing remains a constant: him.

him and the hand he has clasped around your thigh to tether you. anchor you back to earth. all big and warm and reassuring, and he's angling himself a little closer until your nostrils fill with the scent of cured leather and peeled mandarin. and, fuck all, he’s warm even from this proximity. so hot, you feel the pressure of his body slowly seeping into your own.

his eyes gleam like the sunset in your peripheral. silently, they ask if you're alright beneath a slightly raised brow, above a customary smirk—a mask he dons during these gatherings if only to make the time fly by. not meant to tease you, he promises. he reserves something genuine for you.

he knows you're not alright, which is why he rubs all gently at the notch of your knee—an attempt to bring you back when you feel your mind slowly disconnecting from your body.

- at an event with sylus. you're clearly nervous. you always are. so the pair of you bid an irish goodbye, and he'll murder anyone who has the gall to stop you.

- watching him sneer at the partygoers blocking your exit is low-key a turn on.

- the night concludes with you both settled on your couch in your living room.

- and, of course, kissing ensues. because why wouldn't it?

- and he's a little handsy, so deft fingers creep up the expanse of your thigh because, of course, the slit of your dress would beckon such actions.

- and sure, yeah. you're into it as he gently pushes you back against the sofa. slots himself between your split legs as your fingers rake through the riot of his hair.

- and he hums all nice and low into your mouth, very much enjoying the sticky grind of your lips together.

- this is sylus. he's always gentle. always takes care of you, treating you like aged porcelain preserved in a museum.

- so why the fuck are you so nervous?

- you’ve made out a thousand times before.

- sex, however.

- well, fuck.

[brotherscain]

summer ‘00 sioux falls, south dakota

prepare for an aching the rest of your life

(Jawbreaker moodboard)

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

house of anubis AU: anubis house gets a 20-something housemother

season 1

trudy breaks her hip or something just before the start of term, so there's a mad-dash to find a replacement housemother

an alum of amun academy is a year or so out of uni, looking for a job, and applies to be the new anubis house housemother because she loved her time at boarding school

how hard can taking care of eight 15 year-olds really be? (the answer is kinda hard tbh)

it's all normal and good for the first two weeks, her time mostly spent getting into the swing of things with doing a lot of laundry, cooking a lot of food, learning how to interact with victor so that he doesn't have an epic crashout for no reason, and stressing the importance of boundaries to alfie and jerome

while they all miss trudy, the girls all love their new housemother immediately because she's hip and cool, and it annoys victor because very quickly all the kids start only listening to her

when joy disappears and a new student moves in, the young housemother very quickly is feeling stuck, because on the one hand, she relates to nina as a fellow newbie, but also feels for patricia. joy's disappearance does kind of feel strange.

she does her best to help with the mara/mick/amber situation but ends up getting in a bit over her head because they keep talking to her about it like she's their peer, and she has to pump the brakes FAST

she strikes up a friendship with esther and jason, as they're all the youngest faculty at the school, and they occasionally go out to town together for dinner and debrief about the students.

when she has an occasional free night, sometimes she and esther go out to the bar/club, too, but jason doesn't come along for "personal reasons"

the young housemother confesses her predicament about patricia's behavior, and jason remarks that he notices it, too, and promises to look into it more

meanwhile, she's noticing more and more how odd nina and fabian are acting, and when amber joins in, she begins to clock that there's something very strange going on, especially since victor seems to be paranoid af about it, always complaining to her that the students are going into forbidden places in the house but he just can't prove it yet.

she also notices that there are a lot of "faculty meetings" happening in the cellar that she and several other members of the staff aren't being invited to.

when she asks, victor says it's because she's not a senior member of the faculty, but she swears she can hear chanting going on...

jason approaches her pretty soon and is like "yeah patricia is saying she's seeing a strange man watching her there's def something wrong here i'm gonna try to help her out"

patricia's mental state is getting worse, and when she claims there was a man in her room, the young housemother finally steps in like "pkay you've gotta help me help you what's happening"

she and jason band together to help patricia look deeper into this joy thing, because something is not adding up

esther is getting annoyed because they aren't spending as much time with her, and she thinks they're hooking up, which isn't true, but maybe there's something...? anyway, she’s helping mick out with training so she’s busy

the more she and jason look into it, the more the young housemother is noticing the crazy stuff happening and she becomes immensely protective over patricia and finds herself covering more and more for nina, fabian, and amber, even when she knows they're lying to victor.

the kids begin to realize she has their back because, as amber says, "she's basically one of us"

when she and jason feel they have enough evidence, they plan to get answers from mr. sweet, victor, and the other members of faculty. on the day they're supposed to meet with them to bring up their concerns, though, she's given a long list of supplies she has to purchase immediately, no exceptions. so jason volunteers to go it alone.

when she comes back from the shops, patricia is beside herself, frantically telling her that jason ignored her completely when he left victor's office.

she calls jason, but each time it goes straight to voicemail, and now she's really worried.

when she finally gets a chance to speak with him, he confirms what he already told patricia, that "nothing's going on"

he won't meet her eye when he says it, though, and she notices right away that he's suddenly part of these "senior faculty meetings" that happen in the cellar.

the young housemother is suddenly scared shitless, because literally wtf is happening, and now she's afraid to confront the adults again, because what if they literally brainwashed her friend?!?!

she pumps the breaks on her help with patricia, but she affirms that she's still on her side, just doesn't want to get too tangled up in this mess without knowing exactly what was happening.

this drives patricia into calling on rufus for help and joining up with sibuna, but to the young housemother, it seems like patricia is just finally finding a community in nina, fabian, and amber, so she's like "phew okay she's got friends now, i can just go back to cautiously being a housemother"

when alfie gets admitted to the hospital, though, she's beside herself, especially because she had turned the other way when the kids were going down into the cellar

jason still won't talk to her, and esther is annoyed with her, so she's basically friendless, apart from her residents who aren't actually her friends, and she's realizing quickly that this job is 1000x harder than she thought it would ever be

when amber comes screaming to her in tears that victor stuffed and killed her cat, the young housemother is like "okay well what we can't do is go yell at victor, because i saw what they did to jason, and i'm not trying to get brainwashed too lol"

so she decides to go down there and check herself because she's technically allowed to go wherever she wants! so she goes into the cellar, and doesn't find a cat, but does get jumpscared by victor who's like "what are you looking for?" and she's lowkey freaking out, and he doesn't fire her, but he does threaten to if she gets caught snooping and meddling again, because he knows she was looking into things with jason.

now she's pissed at jason for ratting her out, and also outraged that this man is threatening to fire her for doing her due-diligence, so she resolves to do some more investigation on her own

she tries to link back up with patricia, but patricia doesn't trust her anymore after feeling abandoned by both her and jason, and by the time the play rolls around and she gets kidnapped, the young housemother is freaking tf out, and approaches sibuna like "please tell me what you know about all this so that i can help."

and feeling like they don't have any options, sibuna does tell her everything, and she goes to the faculty like "i know you might brainwash me, too, but one of my kids has been kidnapped and we have to do something"

victor and sweet are like "we know and we can't do anything about it" but mrs. andrews pulls her aside after the fact and is like "no you're right we have to help her"

so they make a plan to meet rufus' demands, not realizing sibuna is also cooking up their own rescue plan

when patricia is safe, the young housemother stands by her kids and demands that they all be told the truth.

cue the video call with joy

the young housemother is lowkey relieved after this, and takes it at face value bc she's still got a job to do, and as long as everyone's safe she can finally sleep easy (lol little does she know...)

she apologizes to jason for being rude when he was "just trying to protect joy", and he accepts her apology without meeting her eye

esther gives them her blessing to go to the end of term prom together, no longer really gaf about that whole situation after she was accused of an inappropriate relationship with mick. homegirl has her own problems lol

meanwhile, she notices the kids are still acting suspicious, alfie has joined the clique, and jerome is now being shadier than usual, but it should be fine... right?

in between the cooking/cleaning/miscellaneous chores, she gets filled in on the tea about school dance drama, when the night finally arrives, she's honestly pretty pumped: everyone's okay, she, esther, and jason have made up, her job is secure, and now they can all have a good time

cue the poison flies

poor girl is about to have a full head of gray hair at the ripe age of 24 from all the chaos of that night

when it's all over and the chosen hour has passed, jason confesses the truth: about the society, the elixir, his terminal illness...

heartbroken, she vows to keep his secret and forgive him, but she won't forget his selfishness. they part ways, and she and esther have a good cry, because not only is jason leaving for good, so is esther, after that whole scandal. so now young housemother is the only young adult at the school.

she later gets the whole scoop from the kids, and when they offer for her to be an honorary sibuna, she's lowkey like "i'll pass, thanks, but please make sure that if you ever need help, you ask for it"

after a crazy year, she has firmly cemented herself as the house's big sister who everyone loves

surely, the next few years won't be as crazy.... right?

[altarfates]

BASICS.

Name: Yukito ( Yuki ) Hirata Aliases: Eli Gender: trans male Pronouns: he / him Age: 27 Orientation: demi. Date of birth: unknown Birthplace: Goldenrod City, Johto. Current residence: Lilycove City, Hoenn. Profession: Analyst, Strategist.   Affiliations: Team Magma ( admin ) Type specialization: dark / fire

APPEARANCE

Height: 5’6 Build: lithe Eye color: gold Hair color: white Hair style: short, kept fastidiously neat. Scars: corrugated burn scarring that starts at the ridges of his knuckles and rises up his forearm, ending at the elbow. Other: almost always wears gloves alongside the uniform indicative of team magma. POKEMON - Absol. ♂ ( Nova )  nova and yuki have been travelling together since he first left johto, they’re inseparable and yuki considers them his partner pokemon. - Talonflame. ♀ ( Cinder ) was given to him by maxie as a fletchling, is primarily used for communicating intelligence between magma agents. PERSONALITY

Yukito’s perspective and ambitions are dictated wholly by the objectives of Maxie and team magma by extension. He’s invariably skeptical about those outside of the organization if not out-right hostile, with a particularly apparent abhorrence towards those in positions of authority. In his mind Maxie’s goals, directives and words are absolute and thus there is no room for fatuous things like compromise. Positives: Decisive, Industrious, Loyal. Negatives: Fanatical, Callous, Vindictive. Neutrals: Meticulous, Reserved, Straightforward. Humor: Deadpan.

HEALTH

Mental: ASD. Physical: He experiences a prickling numbness in the extremities affected by his burns, lack of some sensation and limited / impacted functionality of his left hand. Addictions: None that he will admit to. BACKGROUND

Yuki has no family to speak of, no one he would regard as such anyway. As far as he is concerned his life began the night he fled from his foster family’s home in Goldenrod, stealing what he surmised would be enough to get him far enough away to not be found. It wasn’t his first attempt, it was, however, his first successful attempt. The money he had managed to steal was only enough to get him on his feet, passing through towns seeking quick ways to scrounge enough money together to keep himself afloat. For a long time his journey continued like that, listless and without purpose, it was just him and Nova. That Absol was his family’s pokemon and it had been with them long before he had arrived, each time the troubled youth attempted to escape it would follow him, ignoring his insistence that it return home. Just like each time before it pursued him, no matter how he attempted to elude it they would be reunited, eventually he begrudgingly gave in and the two of them became travel companions. It was during his travels, adrift without a clear way forward or an ambition of his own, that Yuki first crossed paths with Team Magma. This wasn’t his first encounter with someone of dubious moral standing, after all, he had made deals, traded in wares and done menial jobs in exchange for goods many times with people like them in the past but it was the first time that someone boldly declaring such an ambition had rattled him. For the first time since he had turned his back on that old-life he felt as if he wanted to be part of something so investigating them, their ambition and how to join their ranks became his single-minded purpose. After he was recruited, through his own persistent demands, Yuki worked assiduously to not only spread the word of team magma but to enforce it. His reverence toward Maxie and unreasonable expectations made him hellish to work along-side but it was that same unfaltering resolve and the analytical lens he viewed the world through that made him an asset to the team and their joint ambition. As he rose through the ranks his stringent expectations became imposed upon others even more fervently. Those who align with Maxie’s ideals admire him and those who don’t quite understand his zealous admiration for the Leader tend to find him a little peculiar if not slightly off-putting. Being disliked by others doesn’t impede his ability to be useful to Maxie, both as a strategist and in the transmitting of intel, so in his mind it is utterly insignificant. 

[proteinblue]

for wip wednesday

okokokokok so i’m obsessed with isekai/transmigration series, it’s all brain rot but i luv them, and i esp luv the shoujo ones where the mc transmigrates into a webnovel and they’re the villainess or a side npc! my brain just go brr

anyway my current draft i’m working on is an obikin isekai au—technically it’s a transmigration au but isekai is faster to type LOL

so the working summary is thus far:

obikin isekai where obi-wan is the author of a moderately sucessful romantasy series, and finds himself transmigrated into the side professor character who half-raises, half-teaches anakin skywalker, protagonist of the series, from child to young knight. he does his best to guide anakin towards the kindest ending, not knowing in return, anakin has exchanged his canonical lover, queen padme of naboo, for obi-wan instead in his heart. chaos ensues when obi-wan goes missing LOL

some things have changed since i wrote this summary, like which character obi-wan becomes, and does he really go missing and thereby turn anakin into a yandere? idk, but i’m working on vibes alone right now lol

ok so here is the first scene i ever wrote for this au, about 1.6k, right around when anakin is 10 years old and asking to join knight school:

Obi-Wan didn't really pay attention when his coworkers with children would complain about the Terrible Twos. To him, that was the due consequence of choosing to have children in the first place, all the crying and diaper changes and temper tantrums and sleepless nights and endless days. He paid even less attention when the ones with children hitting their second digits started complaining about the preadolescence stage, where the more sentient rugrats started having solid opinions about foods and music and classmates and schoolwork.

He doesn't quite think about those days now, even though Anakin himself has reached ten with a surliness that doesn't quite sit with his cherubic features. After all, Anakin had only parted with his mother not even two years ago; any child separated from their family would be well within their rights to react however poorly they'd like. Of course, Anakin hadn't actually started being so prickly until just a few weeks before his tenth birthday.

Obi-Wan remembers listening to a podcast previously with a child psychologist as a guest, who spoke about latent childhood trauma, and how the effects had no timeline for when or how they'd develop in a child. Anakin, perhaps to a tee, would fit the quintessential description of a child with latent childhood trauma, with his upbringing in slavery.

Other vassals would call Obi-Wan soft for the way he handles Anakin's emotions, but what do they know in the grander scheme of things? No one knew Anakin Skywalker better than Obi-Wan Kenobi, who, in another life, had been the mastermind of all his troubles. It's only natural that Obi-Wan would do his utmost to give Anakin everything he couldn't have in penance.

Which, currently, is the permission to start squiring under the knighthood. Obi-Wan sighs with the prescient knowledge that Anakin will likely hold onto this squabble with his puppy teeth until he or Obi-Wan gives in.

(So far, the scores are 4-0, in Anakin's favor. Doctor Che likes to make fun of his jelly-like will towards Anakin, but that's only because she had been there to watch the boy browbeat a grown man into agreeing to let him continue sleeping with said grown man because of his night terrors after a year of already living at the estate. No, Obi-Wan has no idea what the maids are gossiping about when they talk about clingy parenting.)

Anakin scowls at him from across the kitchen dining table, his short legs dangling over one of the larger wooden chairs, made especially more comical with the number of cushions Obi-Wan had helpfully added so Anakin could eat at a comfortable height. He clutches the fork in a child-sized fist, but his other hand curves over the worn edge of the table, revealing the nerves behind his grim face.

"Teacher, you told me that the normal age for a page is seven. I've already reached ten, and yet you still bar me from joining the others," Anakin says lowly, fingers tightening around the table. He looks down and jabs at a half-eaten potato in temper, but relents the next second, shoveling it into his mouth.

Even in a fit of pique, Anakin is not one to waste food, not when he still squirrels away portions of his meals back to his room daily for fear of starvation. Obi-Wan has stepped in far more piles of rotten food in their shared bedroom since knowing Anakin than when he used to foster abused dogs who'd strewn bits of kibble and wet food in the living areas in his previous life. It is a habit he still cannot break the boy from, and Obi-Wan knows he will wake to find his toes squished into another wet napkin full of hard bread and soft vegetables in the morning.

Obi-Wan refrains from massaging his temples, but only just. "Anakin, surely you can see the difference between you and the other boys. You barely reach the shoulders of even Cook's youngest boy, and he's only eight. How can you expect to keep up with the others when even the stiffest winds can still knock you aside! At least give it another year so you can grow a little more into yo ur body."

"Teacher!" Anakin protests, loud and hurt. He drops his fork and clutches instead at his shirt for comfort. "I'm already taller than I was the year before, and I have eaten more than I could have ever dreamed of. I do not feel my bones so easily anymore when I rub my belly, and I may be small yet, but I know what I am capable of. Or, do you forget how we first met in Tatooine?"

Anakin's voice trembles now, and Obi-Wan knows with the familar sink of his stomach that he has made his boy cry again with his words. He fights the groan that sits in his throat, dropping his head back, and meets the eyes of Head Cook Jettster, who nods, and shoos the scullery maids and his assistant cook, Hermione, out of the room to allow them privacy. Anakin huffs, aware of the emptying room, but makes no effort to brush away the tears gathering at his eyes.

Now, truly alone, Obi-Wan leaves his seat and walks over to Anakin's chair, dropping a hand over the back to support. He crouches down, still marveling at the way his knees can once again bend without cracking.

He looks up at Anakin's down-turned face. Anakin does his best to ignore Obi-Wan's gaze, but it takes only a patient minute before he meets his eyes. He is a good boy, Obi-Wan thinks with fondness.

"My dear, I could never forget our first meeting. You were so fierce even when you trembled before me, standing in front of your mother with your knife out, I'd dare say you were like a lion bearing his teeth for the first time." Obi-Wan smiled softly, remembering the way a grubby child had waved his makeshift weapon in front of Obi-Wan and their small retinue of knights, growling at them to stay away from his mother with a ferocity his body could scarce contain.

Anakin blushes, tightening his grip on his shirt, and darts his eyes away before looking back at Obi-Wan. He swallows and blinks wetly. "Do you think of me as weak, then, Obi-Wan?"

"Never," Obi-Wan replies, immediate and forceful. "Even when you were just bones and rags and barely able to shield your mother from Watto, you were not weak. You have far more courage in your being than grown knights who patrol the realm, and you have the unyielding tenacity of one who is borne of circumstances that would cripple the spirits of far greater men." He reaches out, palm upturned toward Anakin and slow in proffering, giving the boy a chance to move away, but Anakin gamely reaches back, clambering out of his seat to climb into Obi-Wan's lap.

The sudden shift in weight pushes Obi-Wan down onto his bottom with a expelled breath, but he does not admonish Anakin like he would usually, simply adjusts the boy to sit more comfortably between his legs. Anakin wraps his short arms around Obi-Wan's neck, grazing him with the uncomfortable cuff links that the head matron had insisted he start wearing, drawing them together until they're face-to-face. Anakin's tears are mostly gone, but Obi-Wan still wipes the remnants away with a soft hand, and Anakin leans into his touch.

"Teacher. Obi-Wan."

"Yes, dear one?"

"I know I am ready to start pagehood; and if I am smaller than the rest, then so be it. I will grow, and I will have you to guide me," Anakin says firmly, setting his lips in line. His brows furrow down, the way his expression has grown to settling in, when he speaks with conviction.

Obi-Wan is not a father, but he cannot help the way his heart twists and warms the way he imagines a parent's would, in the face of their child's determination. There is a lump in his throat.

He is the only one who knows this is merely the start of Anakin's arduous journey, one that cannot be swayed or deterred, and yet he cannot help but want to pull Anakin back, to keep him safe in Obi-Wan's arms where his boy cannot be harmed.

"I know you're ready," he allows. "But what if I'm not ready to let you go?"

Anakin frowns, and tugs gently at the back of Obi-Wan's head, pushing him down until their foreheads touch. At this distance, Anakin's blue eyes swim and out of focus, but Obi-Wan is grateful for the contact, grounding his emotions a little.

"I will always come back to you, Obi-Wan," Anakin promises. Obi-Wan's eyes flutter closed for a brief moment, and he makes a promise of his own to Anakin. I will always be here for you.

He opens his eyes as Anakin pulls away, and grins, tugging at his hair again. "And besides, it's not like I'm going anywhere anyway! There are plenty of knights here at home to squire under."

Home, Anakin says. Obi-Wan smiles back.

"I suppose it'll be nice for you to get your own room finally, once you start dorming with the other pages. I can finally wake up without having to pull a barnacle off me every morning," Obi-Wan muses. Anakin gasps, offended.

"Who says I'm going to sleep anywhere else! Nobody said anything about having to sleep with the other pages!" Anakin cries. "Can't I stay with you in our room!"

Obi-Wan finally sets Anakin down, pulling away with a snort. "Well, my dear boy, it's like you said. You are ten now."

"Trickery! Foul!"

[saucy-mesothelioma]

You are not immune to Tower/Apotheosis/Fury hip dip propaganda

[slasherflicks999]

guys im actually finally coming up with a half decent backstory for slasher i cant believe it it’s all coming together

[caxemiira]

Having to go back and reread my previous writing from Tapestry for continuity's sake (the next update for Nocturne is a mix of present day/flashbacks from the perspective of Louis), and I will say it's a little shocking how much my writing has adapted in six months.

That said: New chapter this week if all goes according to plan!

[tranquill-llama]

Me: putting my multi chap on break to focus on school My brain: immediately starts cooking up a farmer x shane story

[xhellodollyx]

I still have to put together a summary and timeline of my chiffany fankid but for now i will share her faceclaim and her name and a rough, brief summary for her character.

Name: Amy Elizabeth Ray (faceclaim is Havana Rose Liu)

I'm retconning Don's shitty timeline for this: that Chucky and Tiffany were childhood friends that reunited years later in their early 20s. Amy was rather an unexpected but welcomed surprise for them (after the initial shock wore off), as they both had dreams of having a family. Amy was born in 1981. She was only 7 when Chucky died, and she didn't quite understand the severity of 'death' as she was brought along on some 'outings' by Chucky, though she never killed anyone herself. It was rather to get her adjusted to the lifestyle young, though never forced upon her. She didn't understand any of it, but there seemed to be something in her blood early on that called to it, the violence. She didn't understand it, only met with 'you'll understand when you're older' by her mother when asked.

Really, she didn't know Chucky had died right away. She just wondered why her dad wasn't coming home to tuck her in like he used to—Tiffany didn't want to break the news to her, and they were quick to move out of Chicago a short time after he was shot and killed, all the while Amy was not aware at all that he was dead. She'd ask her mother over and over again and was only met with a vague answer:

"He'll be back soon."

With tears in her mother's eyes, which Amy didn't understand. If her dad was coming home soon, why did her mother not seem so sure about that, why did she seem so sad when asked about Chucky at all?

Then, the nightmares started shortly after they moved to the trailer park. Nightmares of people dying by her hands, nightmares of her father dead, which didn't make sense, surely he wasn't dead, he was alive and he would come back, right?

Amy doesn't find out the truth until she's 13. Finally enough was enough, the constant questions about her father and where he was finally got her the answer she sought: but not the one she wanted. That her father was dead.

That led to her middle school and high school years being plagued with memories of a time she longed to go back to, missing her father, fighting this urge crawling in her blood, and fighting with the knowledge of who her father really was. The reality of what she was exposed to as a child hit her then, that the blood and the screaming and the terror in those victims' eyes had been real. That those nightmares had actually meant something. Amy felt conflicted. She missed her dad, she loved him, and she loved her mother, but knowing who they were, and what they did, it was a lot to take in. Was she really supposed to take their place as a killer too one day? Was it really in her blood?

It causes a rift between her and her mother—she starts to drift away into books and art, not able to figure out who she was and who she could be. School was hard enough, she already felt like a freak, made to feel like one, so all she could look forward to was going to college. Maybe she would find out who she was in college. That's what everyone says happens, surely it could happen for her too.

By the events of Bride, Amy went off to college. Only early on in her freshman year did she feel like maybe she could find herself and things were looking up. She still kept in contact with her mother of course, but it started becoming less and less frequent on Amy's end, too busy with her studies and school work to take every call from Tiffany.

Though the nightmares only continued, as they had since she was 8. But they were becoming worse and more frequent. Not too long after did she receive a call from the police, one she never expected, one that made her heart stop.

Her mother was dead. Electrocuted in the bath.

Amy had to drop everything, take a break for the semester to go back home and make arrangements, all while in shock, her grief slow, trying to process that her mother was dead, that she was now an orphan with no family at all. But when she gets home to make arrangements, she comes home to quite a sight—police everywhere, her mother possibly connected to some recent murders, dolls everywhere. And police asking questions about why her mother's prints and her father's prints are at the scene of multiple murders that just occurred after her mother's death.

Just how much else did her mother keep from her? What else did Tiffany not tell her?

[wayward-sherlock]

outlining’s going well.

[comfortlesshurt]

OKAY, IT'S FINALLY HITTING

(will you guys hate me if I post this longfic a month later than planned?)

[bridgetlynn]

So, for the last week or so I've been working on an outline for what was supposed to be a fun and fluffy summer-fic Mel/Langdon romance with a Sentinels & Guides are Known trope underscoring the whole thing.

Key words: Fun and Fluffy Summer Romance

Somehow instead I fell into a research spiral and haven't really pulled myself out for 3 days -

the barest of bare bones explanation of how Presidential Reorganization Authority works and under what circumstances it can be applied.

FDR's first term in office (March 4 1933 - January 20 1937). Also fun! I learned that the inauguration was moved from March to January by the 20th amendment to the constitution which was ratified in January 1933 so FDRs first term in office was 46 days shorter then anyone else's (well those that didn't die at least). But I guess getting a 3rd (and around 3 months of a 4th) term makes up for it.

Apex Predators to see what might fit Mel and Frank's personalities.

Refreshing my knowledge on the S&G fandom a bit more then I originally planned to (as I started to anticipate this getting complicated) cause, again, was supposed to be fun fluffy romance.

Colleges and med schools in New York and New Mexico.

Schools and programs for autistic children in New Mexico cause why shouldn't Becca also have an amazingly blessed and awesome time growing up.

Nuclear Physics. I didn't understand one god damned fucking word of it but, again, research spiral. And it was more a "this is the job...where does this job happen" situation. Cause why not?

Among a LOT of other things.

So much for that fun fluffy summer fic romance.

The biggest "issue" (if you could even call it that - first world fucking problems for real) with this is I've been half wavering on if I wanted to write the story. If I write it I'm gonna really challenge myself and do it for the July Rough Trade Challenge. That means I can outline and plot and plan - but no writing until July 1st. It's 25k minimum over the course of a month. It doesn't need to be "perfect" since it's right there in the name - Rough Trade. Basically rough draft posting challenge designed more for writers then readers.

I signed up for one years ago and my grandmother had a stroke halfway through the month (I think it was an April challenge) so I never completed it and I felt (unreasonably) angry at myself over that. Now, my Mom is in the middle of a chemo cycle and if she gets ill during it I'll feel like an asshole by not finishing the challenge again. I'm her sole caretaker since god knows I can't rely on my asshole relatives to show up for us without 1001 expectations attached or to "take over". It's the main reason I couldn't fly out to LA for a weekend to see Patrick Ball in Hamlet; my Mom's not that sick right now (knock on wood) but I didn't want to leave a 71 year old stressed out woman at the mercy of a bunch of insane people who probably sweat wine and beer at this point in their lives. (Anyone who might be of real use, medically, doesn't live in NY anymore and the 1 nurse cousin that does is incapable of not turning my Mother's illness into being about "her trauma over Aunt Maura being sick")

I'm probably being whiny maudlin as I'm possibly a bit over-medicated at the moment; someone spilled soap on the bathroom floor at work and I slipped and definitely felt something "yoink" (yes that's the technically term for it) in my lumbar region to the right of my spine. Pretty sure it's just muscular cause I don't feel like someone set my right leg on fire; but, I have the drugs so why not.

I write for myself but I also am starting to feel that gut punch of "oh yea, you went away from fandom for a decade" and having to rebuild readership. Only now it's with the added stress of a real "adult" type adult job. Now that I've started writing fanfic again I've started to realize that I have become "the man" and sometimes that depresses the fuck out of me.

So there's also that hovering over my head - would anyone even want to read it?

Final thought - and this'll only make sense to people who know S&G fandom but…Jim Ellison would make a way better President then the Great Big Orange Monstrosity in my little fictional world right?