#adventures in cathartic fic-writing

[whumpity-whumpwhump]

Alex Summers, waking up in a government building with a bunch of medical stuff attached to him and surrounded by strangers: This isn’t good, I need to get out of here asap

Team macgyver, minus one key member, panicking and wondering why the hell Mac just attacked someone and then ran off and has all but disappeared.

The one unfortunate guy at the Phoenix institute who happens to look a lot like Stryker, nursing a black eye.

Murdoc, eyeing the situation curiously and thinking now would be a great time to find Mac and have a little chat.

Meanwhile

Angus Macgyver wakes up in a world not his own, surrounded by rubble

[esamastation]

hi!!! i just wanted to pop in after reading some of your AC fics (ones where desmond, ezio, and/or altaïr are at the forefront so in this case: i was born for this, terrible two, stone angel, gift of living well, impermanence, three fold, & earthly scene) and say that you're a brilliant writer. as someone who's trying to write longer, more impactful stories, it's admirable how you prioritize the plot and how romance is a sweet part of it. (this is part 1 of this message bc of the word count!)

you construct romance in an original, cathartic way that feels effortless. i just finished 'i was born with this' and the romance that forms between the characters feels so natural and unforced. another thing i love in your fics is that when desmond goes back in time, he always (unintentionally at first) makes an impact in furthering knowledge, inventions, etc centuries ahead of when they were supposed to happen. more importantly, desmond finds his well-deserved happy ending.

your fic ideas are also so creative and out of the box. i'm currently going through the games right now and desmond has been so so much shit (unwillingly) and he deserves some rest and happiness :,) another thing i love is how you always leave a hopeful ending that makes me ache to know what happens after!! you flesh out the characters so much over the span of + 100,000k words, tie things wonderfully at the end, and make me feel out breath (in a good way)

yeah, to sum that up, you're an amazing writer!! i also wanted to ask you some questions about writing. i aspire to write long fics, but i struggle with plotting out events =( i feel like i rush the events in how i want to get to the end where the characters are happy! do you have a writing process? do you plot out your stories or kind of go with the flow? do you have any tips on improving your writing? i totally get if you don't have any advice! have a great day!

-

Thank you for your nice comments, sorry it took so long to reply, I was feeling very antisocial. Anyway.

I do not have a writing process - I'm what they call a gardner writer, I take characters and I put them into situations and see how things develop and plot either happens or it doesn't. Maybe I have vague plans like "here's a scene I want to see in future" and "this is a result I want them to come to" and then try to write towards those goals, but they don't always pan out. It's all very chaotic and leads to lot of dropped fics, but it's how I enjoy writing. (It really helps having someone reading your stuff and poking at the plot holes though, I got a lot of fics that only got as far as they did because nimadge or someone else was there along for the ride.)

I dunno if there's anything other that just practice that can improve a person's writing. Some people recommend writing short stories and flash fiction, some people say your should write X amount of words every day. If all else fails there's thousands YouTube videos on subject.

Personally I'm a huge advocate of taking ideas from other people and putting your own spin into them. Derivate, rehash, put them in a blender, see what comes out. Like, don't copy Lord of the Rings word for word and publish it as your own work, that's bad - but maybe dwarf and elf going on adventures together is a idea that could go places. Fanfiction is all derivation upon pre-existing ideas.

Related, I whole heartedly endorse anyone who wants to take plots and ideas I've written and taking a crack at them with their own style. It's pretty much how I learned to write as wee bab on a typewriter, stealing from the books I enjoyed. And hell, if you don't have a style, try someone else's. One is my most popular fics started with me trying to emulate the style and cadence of narration of a completely unrelated TV series I was watching at the time. I don't think anyone even noticed.

Once you have enough practice under your belt, your style will develop on its own.

[epersonae]

I got tagged by @piratecaptainscaptainpirates to share my favorite fics, and I think everything that's in my pinned post is probably a favorite, but this is what came to mind when I thought about that question:

I think I spit on your grave is one of the most cathartic things I've ever written, it was a scene I needed desperately to exist. There's a reason it was the first thing I wrote after breaking my leg, when I was just barely getting back my writing energy.

Commit to the Bit is my OFMD-flavored love letter to Ryn and their proposal and our wedding. It's very important to me.

I still love one of my very first OFMD fic: I have begun to long for you, a "mutiny against Izzy succeeds" canon-divergence AU. I think it plays out in a way that works with canon, and also I put a lot of grief experience into it.

And then there's the Stede POV canon retelling that took forever and had so much process to write: Hungry for love, ready to drown. Many of the things that I've seen addressed as metas come up in this fic as story, and many of the metas I read in the course of writing are folded into it as well.

I was going to say "outside of OFMD" about this one, but BOY THAT'S PART OF THE WHOLE THING ABOUT IT: for the benefit of all the broken hearts is still as far as I'm concerned the best thing I've written in any medium for any reason.

And then actually outside of OFMD, if you are a TAZ person, allow me to point you to my and Ryn's masterwork The Reckoning Arrives. It is a post-canon adventure in which Lucretia, Taako, Merle, and Carey find Kalen. It is both personally extremely meaningful (basically how I got myself out of my first marriage) and also I think a damn good story.

I'm gonna tag a few people, no pressure but would love to hype y'all's writing, even/especially if it's from a while ago: @oatmilktruther, @emi--rose, @chaotic-neutral-knitter, @mxmollusca, @yerbamansa

[sugarfreeballoon]

Unrequited

-Elrond x fem!reader, Elladan x fem!reader (choose your own adventure type-thing): ANGST and FLUFF (4k+ words, it's long) -About: Your unrequited love for the Lord of Imladris made your heart break to the point you thought you would be better off leaving. But leaving made you miss the place and people you called home...and made someone else miss you. -Warnings: mentions of su*cide and self-harm (brief and not descriptive), brief mention of physical violence (reader recalls being robbed), reader has depression but is working to get better -A/N: I don't own Tolkien's characters. This fic was cathartic to write as someone with depression.

Sinister minds had come up with lesser evils: you were sure of it. As you balanced the bowl of water between the door and the frame, you could hear the footsteps getting closer. Quickly climbing down from the chair, you pushed it back behind his desk and waited nervously for your plan to play out. The famed Lord of Imladris, and secret love of your life, walked right through the door and into your trap, water soaking him before the bowl crashed down and bonked him. Wiping the water from his eyes, he gave you a disappointed look. “So that’s what you’ve been doing with your free time.”

You beamed, thrilled your plan had worked, and clapped at your own success. “It was a good trick, wasn’t it? Elladan pulled it on me when I first came here.”

He failed to share your whole enthusiasm, opting for a slight smirk. “I hope you didn’t walk all the way from your home on the other side of Imladris to prank me.”

You shook your head. “No, it was a last-minute addition. I came here to tell you I’m leaving in two weeks.” There, the words were out there. You’d said them. There was no taking them back. All you had to do now was not cry about it. The abruptness took away your chance to procrastinate telling him.

He looked surprised. “To go where? You haven’t left the valley since you first came to me. Are you in need of a vacation of sorts after being here for so long? Restlessness has been your friend, as of late.”

Toying with a weird statuette on his desk, you sniffled and rubbed your nose. “I’m not really sure where I’m going. I’m heading east, and that’s all I know.”

“Who are you taking with you on this excursion?”

You paused. “No one.”

“No one? You think that’s safe?”

“Well, the thing is…” You trailed off, turning away and looking out the window. It was supposed to be easy to say goodbye, considering he didn’t share your deep affection. An unrequited love should be no issue, as you’d dealt with it once before. And yet, here you were, struggling not to cry.

“What is troubling you that you would ride unaccompanied into danger?” Elrond crossed over to his desk. “Surely you understand the risks. I’d like you to come back to us alive.”

“I’m not coming back,” you said, turning to him and allowing the tears to flow freely. “I’ve made so much progress. There are others who now need your healing hands and words more. You should be tending to them and stop wasting your time—”

“You have never been a waste of my time.” His tone was soft, but stern. Twisted with concern, his expression instilled a moment of hope in your soul. Perhaps he wanted you to stay and would confess his feelings to you. It was a moment you’d daydreamed about for quite some time now. Maybe it would happen in one of the gardens or in this very study. He would come to you and take your hands, saying the words you’d been longing to hear said with sincerity your whole life. The emptiness those three little words usually carried was draining. Your parents had said them your whole life before telling you to leave home because your depression was too much for them. It had destroyed your confidence and love for yourself. You wanted someone to say “I love you” for real. You wanted to be with Elrond. You wanted your dreams to come true.

That was all this was, though: a dream. You pushed the hope away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. All I meant was that I’m feeling much better and more confident. I don’t think about ending my life or hurting myself anymore. The resources this place provides have helped me immensely, and I want other people to be healed in the same way. I’m well, so I no longer need to stay.” You forced a smile. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll be sure to write and tell you how well I’m doing.”

“Y/N, I cannot approve of this.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m just giving you a head’s up. Two weeks to the day. It’s time I started doing things for myself.” You bowed respectfully before heading for the door. “I have to do this by myself,” you whispered under your breath, “for myself.”

**

Two weeks passed a lot faster than you’d thought they would. A few times, you’d nearly taken back your decision to leave because the parting process was so difficult. Elladan and Elrohir came daily to try and talk you out of it, and Elrond insisted you still attend your weekly checkups. But the last time you went to see him, Elrond had seemed calm and accepting of your decision. You took it as a sign that you’d made the right decision. As much as you wanted to hold on and keep trying to get him to love you, you worried he would dismiss it as a mere fantasy or think that you only loved him because he’d helped you through a difficult time. It was more than that, of course, but you didn’t imagine he would believe you. Now, here you were, packing up the last of your things. Sighing, you slung the bag over your shoulder and headed for the door, only to find Elladan in the doorway. He crossed his arms. “Father says I’m to take you to Lothlorien. You’ll be able to start a new life there. He's already spoken to Lady Galadriel about it.”

You raised your eyebrows. “He just decided that for me?”

“I don’t know what you think it’s going to be like out there, but—”

“I’m not under any false assumptions that the journey will be easy or danger-less, but I think I’ll decide my own destination, thank you. Lothlorien’s too close to here.”

It was Elladan’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “What? Too close? First of all, it’s not close at all. The journey will be long and perilous. I don’t know how far you thought you would get—”

“Gondor. I plan to go to Gondor.”

“Gondor?! Do you have any idea—”

“I’ve got a very good idea, thank you. I’ve been planning this trip for half a year.”

“Half a year?!”

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say in a raised voice?”

Elladan uncrossed his arms. “Gondor will not be able to provide you with the same stability Lothlorien will. I don’t know why you want to get away from this place, especially when you confessed to me a few days ago that you would miss it, but going to Gondor will be an irreversible course. There will be no one to bring you back when you get homesick.”

“Homesick?!”

“Now who’s repeating who.”

You shook your head. “I’m not going to get homesick. This isn’t my home.”

Elladan laughed coldly. “It’s been your home for five years, Y/N. You’ve thrived ever since you came here. I know why you’re leaving, but if you think putting a maximum amount of distance between yourself and my father will help you get over your feelings, you’re wrong. It will tear you apart.” He sighed. “Just let me take you to Lothlorien. If you get over him, at least you’ll be set up in a place you can continue to heal. If not, you’ll have support. They could have someone bring you back or send for me to come get you.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes. “I…I don’t…if you know, does he?”

“Of course he knows.”

Embarrassment and sadness flared in your face and heart. He wanted you to leave. That was why he was letting you go. You gasped from the sheer force of pain gnawing at your heart. Tears streamed down your cheeks and a couple of sobs shook your body. Elladan helped you take off your bag and sit down. Sobbing into your hands for what seemed like hours, you tried to push all the pain out of your body. All the while, Elladan sat with you, saying nothing, but waiting calmly for you to finish, a hand rubbing your back.

After a while, you stopped crying, wiping your face and blowing your nose. “I’m so sorry about that, Elladan. I’m ready to go to Lothlorien now.”

**

You only wrote two letters to Imladris after arriving in Lothlorien. One you wrote to Elrond, but the other you wrote to Elladan. They said basically the same thing: you were doing well and found the change of scenery to be just what you needed. However, in Elladan’s letter, you also wrote that you were definitely over your one-sided love and to subtly relay that message to his father. It was too embarrassing for you to do yourself. You cried for hours after writing both of those letters, homesick for a place you refused to return to and missing people you loved so much that it hurt. Both of them responded, thankful for your letter and wishing you well, with Elladan restating he was fully prepared to come and get you if need be. For some reason, however, you felt an odd sense of closure getting the letters, as if the whole five years you spent there were a box you’d finally managed to seal shut. It had been the happiest time of your life, but you were strangely at peace with it being over.

Galadriel was kind to you and through her own means lifted your spirits. Your grief was strong within you but able to be contained. After a month, you had stopped sobbing yourself to sleep, and after two, you were able to fool most of the elves around you into thinking you were happy. You knew the Lady had her suspicions, but she couldn’t deny that you forcing your own good attitude wasn’t helping somewhat. In truth, you’d started planning for your departure from Lothlorien only two days after your arrival. You couldn’t stay here. It reminded you of Elrond way too much, and you missed the warmth and cheer his sons had provided, especially Elladan. All three had been essential to your recovery, but there was no turning back now, not without humiliating yourself. Pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps was the only way to make it now. Reliance on anyone else was a mistake. Your misery was overwhelming but known only to you. You came to realize it wasn’t closure you felt; it was doom.

You waited for a festival day to depart. When everyone else was busy, you made your way through the trees to embrace whatever your fate would be. In your mind, you hoped for a glorious entry into Gondor, but knew it was more likely that you’d suffer a gruesome death. However, you’d ceased to care. Briefly, you came across the Marchwarden and his men, and spent nearly an hour convincing them to let you leave. You only received his blessing after lying that you were on your way back to Imladris, and that Elladan was already on his way to meet you. You almost wished it were true for a second, but your destiny/doom overcame you. With a final farewell, you left the forest behind for the world beyond.

**

Four weeks ago, you’d made it to a small village just beyond Rohan’s northernmost border. You knew you couldn’t travel any further without dying of hunger, thirst, and/or exhaustion. How you’d managed to avoid being killed or eaten you attributed to a stroke of dumb luck. You’d meant for the stop to be brief, but a lack of the comfort you’d been afforded in Imladris and Lothlorien made you feel more hopeless than ever before. You managed to secure a job washing sheets and towels for a large inn, but the menial work brought you no joy, just coins. You slept outside in an alley as of recently, wrapped in an old sheet, unable to afford an inn room anymore. Woefully under-prepared for how difficult the journey would be, you’d sold most of your belongings two weeks ago for food and shelter money. You’d gone from feeling comfortable to having nothing. Cursing yourself for being stupid and not trying to get over your crush while in Imladris didn’t make you feel stronger or better. Your mind was starting to turn on you again. You’d fought for so long and been so successful, but all it had taken was one little hardship and you fell apart all over again. It was impossible to be kind to yourself now. You didn’t deserve it.

Covering in dirt and grime, only your hands and arms were washed regularly, as you needed them to be clean to handle the sheets. Last week, just when you had enough money again for a room at the inn, you were beaten and robbed by street thieves. The eye that had been swollen shut had just opened again today, the swelling almost gone. All of the bruises and cuts remained, but you fit it with everyone else in that regard. As you soaked another sheet for washing, you looked up at the darkened sky and hoped the rain would hold off a little longer until you were done. The last thing you wanted to do was work into the night, out in the open with no shadows to hide in when the lurking figures began walking the streets.

One of the townspeople rushed past your workstation, shouting to someone who’d already walked by. “Is it true? They usually don’t pass through this town.” More people began to move along past you, with a crowd starting to form. They were all muttering to one another, saying things like, “Is it true?” and “What could they be here for?” You couldn’t figure out what they were all trying to see, but you knew it was nothing to you. Getting paid for your work was the most important thing now. Novelties and new folks were no longer interesting.

“An elf army?” One woman cried in surprise, turning to the man behind her. “Is that what everyone’s in an uproar about?” Now that caught your interest. Eyes wide, you stood up, trying to scan the crowd for signs of an entire army of elves. “We see a stray one here and there,” the man remarked, “but never this many.” Unfortunately, the sheer volume of people clogging every street and alley made it impossible to see what everyone was looking at. People were pushing past you, some rather violently. You quickly stepped aside to avoid being run over. After all, it could be any elf army, and it’s not as though Lothlorien would have sent an army after you.

“It’s not an army,” someone said. “I saw them from my window. There’s only about twenty or so.”

“Y/N!” Elrohir’s voice carried across the noise. “Y/N!”

Your inhaled breath caught in your throat, tears immediately springing to your eyes. Unable to believe what you heard, you remained silent, trying to come up with a reason why he would be calling out to you. Did he mean to bring you back with him? Had he come to rescue you from the hopeless situation you’d gotten yourself in? How had he even known you’d be here?

“Y/N!” His call was louder this time, closer. It was really him.

You climbed on top of an overturned wash bin. “ELROHIR!” “Y/N!” This voice didn’t belong to Elrohir. It was deeper and filled with emotion. It was a cry of fear and relief at the same time. The crowd began to move, with people stepping aside for someone pushing through. You stepped off the wash bin and held your breath.

It was Elrond.

It was Elladan.

[quinnyundertow]

Can I ask what got you into writing? I love your writing style and I'm so curious about your process as well.

This is such a sweet ask. I love it. This may be way more than what you were expecting haha. But I’m alone in the hospital and this feels cathartic.

I’ve always loved to write since I can remember. When I was in elementary school I remember getting yelled at and crying because I had to write a story about a thanksgiving turkeys adventure and mine was like twenty pages. They said it was too long and hurry up and I was frustrated because I wasn’t done!

I think what really solidified my love for writing is I needed fantasy to escape. In middle and early high school my parents divorced and I was bullied relentlessly. Gum put in my hair, things thrown at me, called fat at every opportunity. I had teachers that bullied me too for being fat. I was SA’d multiple times, depressed and started cutting. I’ve honestly tried to block most of it out.

The point is I had found anime and a few friends who loved it too. So any opportunity I had I begged friends to do writing journals with me. We’d make up a crack fic plots then write self insert and pass a notebook back and forth between classes every chapter for the next person to write. We wrote for Yugioh, Naruto, Dragonball Z, Fruits Basket popular ones at the time. I also wrote poetry, fanfics and original stories to try and escape anyway I could. Writing was the highlight of my teenage years. But other than that it was hell and you could never pay me enough money to repeat them.

I dropped out of Highschool from the bullying and my depression. But I studied and took a test for Highschool equivalency and then went to college and got straight As. College is nothing like Highschool. No one cares what you do. At least in my experience. I wanted to be a writer or manga artist but my father told me I wasn’t good enough and I wish I wouldn’t have taken it to heart and listened. I stopped writing for like ten years except for periodic ideas in notebooks until this last November.

Jujutsu Kaisen had become my comfort anime and then chapter 236 happened. I was so depressed I decided to try and read fanfics again. I’ve always read a lot of published books and was staggered to see a ton of fanfic writers were just as good if not better than published writers. After reading a ton of amazing works I decided I needed a fix it story that was ultimately happy for JJK and here we are.

Sorry if this was boring or too much. But if you take away something from this take this. Life is always changing. Tomorrow will not be the same as today. That much is guaranteed. If you have nothing left to live for then you have nothing to lose by trying something crazy or new. I was broken down to nothing by bullies, family issues, mental and physical health and I was incredibly suicidal. Somehow I found the will to try again. I got on depression and anxiety medication (still on to this day), worked for a higher education and took a shitty paying job to claw my way back up. My life is far from perfect but despite everything I worked hard to now have a boss babe high paying career and after restarting writing and meeting you all I’ve never been happier.

As far as a writing process I pretend I’m not going to post what I write and write it just for me. I ask myself what do I think would be the coolest thing to happen? What would I want to see next? Then I write it. Most of the time it sucks, or I don’t feel like writing it but I force it out. I make myself sit for 15 minutes and just write something. Then I rewrite it. Keep what parts I liked toss what feels off. Repeat. Eventually I’m having fun and loving the process.

When rewriting I’ll name them things like WICYG Chapter 12.2 for the second rewrite etc. I’ll screen shot my google doc so you can see the insanity haha. Sometimes I’ll rewrite four plus times. At the end of the day I want to love what I write and do it for me. Then when I find people that like it too it makes me over the moon happy. I hope one day to have the confidence to write my original stories in my head out. Writing fics for yall has definitely helped build my confidence as a writer.Thanks again for the ask anon sorry for the life story but I’ve never told people all that and it was healing to get out.

My messy google docs 🥹 Madhouse is Sanity Last Stop lol.

[toomanylegos]

MAG Episode 200

I decided to write down my thoughts on the final episode in a completely separate post. I felt like I would have lot to say and analyze after the episode was done and it would've been too much for the reblog chain I made.

I was right.

So, I started listening to this podcast ages ago. Like I mean sometime early last year and then stopped; forgot everything that happened and restarted from the beginning then proceeded to take long breaks in-between more upsetting episodes to keep me sane.

I went into this as someone who doesn't really listen to podcasts and doesn't have much interest in tragedies. I'm more likely to pick an animated film or an action anime or a fantasy novel or a short hurt/comfort fic than a 200 episode horror tragedy podcast.

Buuuuuuut my dearest Eggo had introduced me to the characters and the story. They talked about how much they loved the horror elements, the characters, the world; she encouraged me to give it a listen and reassured me that it was completely worth it. Obviously, she convinced me.

Despite the fact that my soul is shattered due to the emotional series finale, I'm so glad I gave this podcast a chance and I'm glad Eggo rambled about it to me. If they didn't, I wouldn't have come to a wonderful realization...

Tragedies are heartbreakingly beautiful.

I loved learning about these characters and seeing how they dealt with these horrible situations and impossible odds; I had to take so many breaks because if I binged MAG for too long I would become completely miserable due to the pure agony that Jon and everyone around him goes through.

However, there were always these little moments in between the agony. These small conversations between characters; a private reflection; a light joke. A pressure release for the audience that reminded me what, I believe, tragedies are meant to do -- highlight the beauty in the painful and be a cathartic outlet as well as a lesson.

I still don't like angst very much. I don't see the appeal of going into a piece of media that has no sense of comfort in it. Funnily enough, despite the genre space it sits in, MAG is comforting to me.

It brought me the love story of Jon and Martin -- together til the very end and learning to communicate and be with each other. Something that came to me at a point where I am considering pursuing a relationship myself and fear the hurdles I may face. Their story put my own worries just a tad at ease. The way I related to them and the way their fears are handled in the story helped -- are still helping me -- handle my own.

It brought me themes of humanity and monstrosity and how thin of line that can be. It brought me into worlds of flesh, and dark, and sky, and twisting corridors that made my head spin and my heart race.

Most of all, it brought me hope -- something I only realized in episode 199. The hope that even when your world is ending there is something that can be done. The faith in a chance that things can be better if you decide to take that leap.

That good old saying...

"It's always darkest before the dawn."

Now, after finishing The Magnus Archives, I can move on.

So, as I type this with teary eyes and a scattered brain, I would like to say that I loved The Magnus Archives; I have a better appreciation for the tragic and horrible.

I can seek out The Mechanisms and experience more of Jonny Sims' wonderful work.

I can start listening to Rusty Quill Gaming and listen to Alex's DM style and all of the team's adventures.

I can seek out more works produced by the wonderful people over at Rusty Quill.

And most of all, I can catch up with The Magnus Protocol and I can finally say...

They put my bois in the fuckin' 'puter

[azrielgreen]

Are u going to write for a new fandom or just write to publish? Did u write for other fandoms before st?

I have no idea if I'll write in a new fandom again. I never know where passion will take me, what will catch my attention. I've been writing stories all my life and if the last year has taught me anything, it's to stop waiting around and go do the things I want, like write books and self publish them. I have so many stories in me that I want to share that are my own unique worlds and that's so exciting for me.

I never saw the Stranger Things obsession coming. I put off watching it for years and years, up until March 2022 actually when someone convinced me to watch it before SE4 started and it just hit me out of nowhere.

But nothing lasts forever and I wouldn't want to cling where I'm comfortable instead of embracing change and new adventures. March is ALWAYS a turning point for me. Something positive and huge always happens and so now I happily anticipate the change.

8 months is a long time, though! And I do have plans for new fics too. I just want to give myself the freedom to know there's an endpoint and to believe in myself beyond fandom and fanfic.

I have written in many other fandoms before but I orphan all my works after a year or so. There are now around 50 fics of mine that are cut loose. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be brave enough to orphan my ST fics. Orphaning fics is very freeing for me. Deeply cathartic, like setting something free to go be in the wild. One day, maybe, but I'm not ready yet and I'm definitely not ready to stop writing yet. I love this pairing among others and i have OH SO MANT MORE PLANS TO WRECK YOU ALL, so please don't worry!

💜💜💜

[prismaticpichu]

Have you really been writing Zack and Seph since the sixth grade? 🥺

How did you first get into FVII?

Yesss!! 💕 Well, kinda! xD I started writing fanfic period during the summer of when I was going into 6th grade — a 101 page-long google doc epic abt a Houndoom that I will not share unless there is some extreme demand for it 😂 — and started writing FF7 fics in the middle of 8th grade. The first one I ever wrote was actually about Angeal & Genesis mentoring Seph, but I never finished. The first one I did finish was a Zack & Seph fic called “Blazes & Bullets”, which was a Nibelheim fix-it bc HECK I fell in love with these two so much and discovered how much Seph’s betrayal of Zack hurt me a little too severely 😂

And the reason I fell in love with ZS? Well, that credit goes to a phenomenal author by the name of LuckyLadybug, whose fics I discovered and kept my heart happy during Covid. They’re oldies from around 2006-7 (literally, they were being written before I was born xD), but they were the most loving, engaging and special platonic ZS fics that I have ever read. And I was so inspired by her that I wanted to carry on that torch and write platonic ZS adventures of my own! 💕

How I got into FF7 period goes back to Sephiroth’s appearance in Smash Bros. Fell absolutely head-over-heels in love with him during his intro trailer, and in the following days (this is, like, beginning of 8th grade for me), I spent hours upon hours devouring Remake cutscenes, og cutscenes, and eventually a playthrough of Crisis Core. After that came a fanfic-binging spree, then I found LuckyLadybug, and now we’ve come full circle! 😂

I’m in the 11th grade now, and I’m still going strong with my hobby!!! Writing fanfic — especially Zack & Sephiroth — has been a huge, huge cathartic escape for me, as well as a way for me to stretch my writing muscles and evolve! I’m grateful every day for stumbling across a community where I am welcomed, and to have a safe and cozy place to share my work. You guys absolutely rock!! <33

Tysm for your interest!! ❤️

[fortheloveofwonderland]

A Chuisle Mo Chroi (Pulse of My Heart) | Ralvez

A Chuisle Mo Chroi (pronounced Mu Kooish-La Mu Kree) Irish term for Pulse of my Heart.

Summary - Spencer chronicles his unrequited love for his best friend in the form of letters to his mom. But when she meets the person Spencer has detailed to her, what happens when she inadvertently confesses her son's feelings for him?

A/N - Yes I mixed up the timeline. Just pretend the episode “300” happened after the episode “Luke”. Prison arc didn’t happen but Spencer’s mom was still moved to DC and Spencer still starts teaching. Also I don’t speak Irish. I googled terms of endearment from around the world and enjoyed this one the most. Thank you my darling @sassymoon for being my beta!

Anon request - Hi! Since you opened your requests I wanted to ask if you could write a sweet fluff fic/blurb for Spencer x Luke with them confessing their feelings and maybe having their first kiss? ❤️

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Luke Alvez

Category - fluff

CW - unrequited love, pinning Spencer, references to 1406 “Luke” and 1401 “300”, a single F-bomb, case related stuff, bisexual Spencer, first kiss.

WC - 5.4K

Spencer Reid loathed the term momma’s boy. Sure, he was close to his mom, when you grew up without a dad you clung to what you had left. Even if his mom didn’t recognise him half of the time, she was the only person in the whole world who understood him. When she was lucid at least.

Throughout high school all the much older kids had always referred to him as such due to the fact he spent so much time at home. What they didn’t know was that he spent all that time at home because he was looking after his mother. But he never told them as much, he’d rather them call him that than admit the truth to them. 

When he moved to Virginia to join the BAU he wrote her a letter every single day. He told her everything, all the ins and out of the team, vague case details without getting graphic. He documented his meals, what books he’d read and everything else he could jam onto the page. 

Over time life got in the way. His letters started becoming weekly, then monthly until the point when he’d forget the last time he’d put pen to paper and sent his mother one of the letters she loved so much. 

He had to make more of an effort. She adored his letters, it allowed her to feel like she was there with him, embarking on his adventures alongside him. Spencer often thought they might be her last tangible grip on reality. So regardless of how tired he was, how busy he was, he ensured he would try to sit down at least once a week and write his mother a letter. 

As of late his letters had revolved mostly around one topic, giving Spencer the opportunity to get his feelings out on paper so as to never have to admit them out loud. He was sure he’d written research papers shorter than the letters he was penning these days, and he was sure given his moms declining mental state she wasn’t reading them and if she was, she would surely not remember anything he had to say in those pages. 

It was cathartic, almost like keeping a journal. He found the words flowed so easily when he had that particular subject matter on his mind. 

We were on a case in New York this week, as usual I won’t go into detail. We caught the guy though, you’ll be pleased to know. 

On the second day we were in the police precinct in Central Park and we both went to reach for a case file at the same time. Their hand brushed against mine and I swear I heard fireworks going off somewhere. Which is absurd because it was the middle of the day and of course there weren’t fireworks going off. But it happens a lot. 

When they look at me I’m sure I can feel my IQ level drop in half. When they smile at me it’s like the whole world lights up. And those accidental touches make my heart race and make me feel giddy. 

I know I’ve spent a lot of time in these letters talking about them recently and I’m sorry if it’s boring you. But I think I’m falling in love, mom, and I don’t know who else to talk to about it. Scratch that, I am in love and that terrifies me because they don’t look at me that way. 

They’re one of my best friends, my teammate. I don’t even know if they like…it doesn’t matter. I just know I should not be feeling this way about them and I have to get these thoughts out of my head. I’m sure you’re not even reading these so you’ll never know anyway, but I feel lighter for having written it down. But just in case you do read these, I’m too scared to say their name. 

Most letters read in the same vein. Spencer’s unrequited love was clouding his brain, causing him to be slower at making deductions and he feared it would hinder his work. Writing down his inane thoughts helped. Even if no one was reading them. 

***

Hey mom, 

Me again. We got back from a case in Ohio yesterday and Rossi invited us all over his place. 

You know me, I’m not a big drinker, I had two glasses of wine but that was enough for me. Also I don’t trust myself around them when alcohol is involved, inebriation would loosen my tongue and I’m worried about what I might say. Those kinds of confessions are only for my letters. 

They had quite a bit to drink though, I was watching them. I’m always watching them, it’s like I can’t stop myself. But I swear every time I looked up at them, they were looking right back at me smiling. 

They even found me on the back patio while I was getting some air. 

“Hey Spence, what are you doing out here?” 

That’s what they said. There’s something about people calling me by nicknames that makes my heart soar. There’s no scientific data to back that up, love is all in the brain not the heart. It’s simply my brain releasing oxytocin and vasopressin, giving me a surge of positive emotions every time I see them. 

Or hear them call me Spence. 

“Just getting some air.” I told them, trying to ignore the way they were looking at me.

I don’t know how to describe it, it was like they were seeing me for the first time, really seeing me. It was as though the alcohol actually helped them see clearer, the way they looked at me, I just can’t describe it. But for a split second, I actually believed they might feel the same about me. Of course that was completely foolish of me to think but just for a moment I allowed myself to succumb to the fantasy. 

“I uh…I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

When they said that and stepped closer to me, I’m sure I saw a hint of nerves in their eyes and my breath caught in my throat. But then it got even stranger. 

“Oh, you’ve got something…let me.” 

Then they reached forward and brushed something off of my cheek. We’ve touched accidentally before but I think that might be the first time they’ve done it deliberately. I wish I could accurately describe to you the way their fingertips felt as they brushed against my skin but I’m not sure there are enough words in the English language. Or in any of the other languages I can speak. 

There is a saying I recently learnt which comes close. It’s an Irish term “a chuisle mo chroi” which essentially translates to “pulse of my heart.” That’s what they feel like. They are a part of what keeps me alive. It’s the only thing I know how to say in Irish, but it seemed fitting. 

Anyway, they never did get to tell me what it was they wanted to say because someone else joined us on the patio and soon we all called it a night. 

I’ll never forget the look in their eyes though. 

All my love,

Spencer

***

Hey mom,

Another letter for you. I realised recently I’ve spent so much time talking to you about a certain person and I don’t remember the last time I asked you how you were doing. I’m sorry for that. How are you? How is Bennington? I hope to get time to visit you soon. 

We had a pretty rough case recently, one that affected someone on the team personally. I won’t give you a prize for guessing who. 

I’ve never seen them like this before, I was genuinely scared they would do something to jeopardise their place on the team. They lost an old friend in the process and I’m scared it might tip them over the edge, that there may be no coming back from this for them. 

It’s not my job to comfort them though, as much as I wish it was. I’m sitting here at my desk after everyone else has left for the night writing this letter so I don’t go after them. Because they already have a person to be their shoulder to cry on, and it isn’t me. 

I think I’ve failed to tell you that before and maybe I just didn’t think it was necessary or maybe it was a deliberate choice, I’m not sure. They already have their own a chuisle mo chroi which makes my feelings even more redundant. 

Thus far I’ve done a really good job at not allowing myself to dwell on these feelings except for when I write you these letters. But lately they’ve started to consume me and I don’t know how to make it stop.

They are all I think about. When I’m at home alone, I imagine what they are doing and it makes me sad. They’re probably cooking dinner for their partner, maybe cuddled up on the couch watching a movie or maybe even in bed…I won’t finish that trail of thought. 

It hurts me to see them everyday and know they will never be mine. I value our friendship too much to risk losing it all over these feelings I have for them but I worry those feelings are slowly destroying my soul. They’re right there, right in front of me and I can’t have them. I never will. They will never be mine. 

I’m sorry about this. If you’re reading these I hope my words don’t make you worry. I’m fine, really, I’m just having a hard time right now. But I’ll be ok, I always bounce back don’t I? 

I love you mom, speak soon. 

Spencer 

***

Hey mom,

Sorry I haven’t written in a while, things got really crazy. I won’t go into detail because I don’t want you to worry about me but…

…you aren’t reading these letters, I know you’re not. So I suppose it doesn’t really matter if I go into detail. 

I was abducted. Kidnapped. We arrested a cult leader and failed to see that one of his disciples worked for the FBI. She took Garcia, and I tried to save her, because you taught me to be the kind of man that does that. But it resulted in her taking me too.

If you are, on the off chance, reading these, I need you to know I’m ok. I’ve got some bruises but I’m mostly ok. If it wasn’t for the team I might not have been, the cult wanted to make me their three hundredth victim. 

For as long as I live, I will never forget the way they looked at me after I was unstrapped and helped down the steps. They ran to me, panic written all over their face and if I didn’t know any better I might actually think they had tears in their eyes. 

“Oh my god, you’re ok.” 

They sounded as worried as they looked and then their hand was on the side of my face, gently stroking my bruised cheek. 

“I thought…I didn’t think…” 

It was as though they physically couldn’t get the words out. I was so hyped on the adrenaline of coming close to death that I didn’t realise it until later. 

“I’m ok. I’m ok.” I assured them although I’m not sure why I was doing the assuring. 

And then they flung their arms around my neck and pulled me so close, held me so tightly for a moment I couldn’t breathe. I was so close I could feel their erratic heartbeat and they buried their face into my neck and panted against my skin. 

For a second I was dumbfounded. I just stood there frozen. But eventually I wrapped my arms around their waist relished in the moment because I knew it wouldn’t last. And as expected, a few seconds later we were torn apart by someone calling our names. 

Is it wrong that I’d go through that whole ordeal again just to get them to hold me like that one more time? Is it so utterly absurd to say that almost dying was worth it because having them embrace me like that erased all of the fear?

I felt safe, mom. In their arms I felt safer than I’ve ever felt before. But it only hurt worse when they let go and pretended nothing had happened, following the rest of the team away. 

Unrequited love is the worst feeling in the whole world. You’d think I could handle it given everything I’ve been through. But honestly, I think it’s worse than anything any unsub has ever done to me. I really don’t know how more I can take, mom. 

I don’t know if I can keep working with them and being in love with them. 

Love always,

Spencer 

***

Hey mom, 

You’ll be pleased to know I’m feeling a little better since my last letter. It’s been a few months I know, and I know I promised I’d write every week and I’m sorry. 

I thought my writing down my feelings was helping but it started having the opposite effect. I decided to take a little time away from the BAU after everything that happened with the cult. I came to an agreement with the bureau to split my time between case hours and teaching classes at the university. I’m doing much better, my head is clearer and I’m not pining quite as much as I was the last time I wrote to you. 

It’s still hard sometimes but I’ve learnt to live with the fact the object of my desire will never love me back. We remain friends, best friends, but that’s all it will ever be. And I’m ok with that. It’s just how it was meant to be. 

I’ll come and visit you soon, I have more free time when I’m teaching. I’ll be sure to bring you some books and there’s a great little cafe I’ve discovered near the university that sells the best…

“Hey man, what are you doing?” 

A voice snapped Spencer away from his trail of thought and he lifted the pen from the paper and looked up to see Luke Alvez standing over his desk. 

“Oh, just writing to my mom.” He quickly scrambled to hide the letter from prying eyes even though most people struggled to read his chicken scratch, as Garcia dubbed it. 

“Isn’t she living in DC now? I thought you said-“

“Yeah she is.” Spencer cut him off, stuffing the paper in his satchel. “But I uh…I forget all the things I want to say to her when I visit so I like to write it down.” 

Luke was smiling at him, the kind of smile that Spencer often found himself lost in. The kind of smile he’d spent hours writing about in great detail to his mom. 

“I’d like to meet her.” He leant against Spencer’s desk, seemingly not in a hurry to go anywhere. 

“You would? Why?” Spencer frowned which made Luke chuckle. 

“You talk about her so much I already feel like I know her. It would be nice to meet the woman behind the genius.” 

Spencer didn’t think having his mom meet Luke was a good idea. Although even if she read his letters and remembered them, he’d never specified who he was talking about. But his mom knew him so well, surely if she saw the two of them together she’d be able to tell exactly how Spencer felt about Luke. Spencer wasn’t known for his subtlety. And even in her less lucid moments, Diana Reid was extremely astute. 

But nonetheless Spencer found himself nodding. 

“Uh…ok. Sure. I guess that wouldn’t be a problem.” He frowned a little. “I’m going to see her this weekend if we don’t get pulled away somewhere.” 

“I’m in.” Luke beamed brighter than Spencer had ever seen. 

“You uh…you don’t have plans with Lisa?” 

Luke chuckled, leaning forward and patting Spencer’s shoulder. 

“I know you’re not here all the time, Doc, but have you been living under a rock? Lisa and I split up months ago.” 

Spencer hated the way his heart seemed to do somersaults in his chest at this. How had he missed that? Had he been so consumed in the overwhelming unrequited love he was feeling that he’d completely missed what was going on around him? 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Spencer hoped his voice didn’t give away how unsorry he was. 

“It’s ok, these things happen. She wasn’t a, uh, good fit for me.” His eyes seemed to sparkle as he spoke but Spencer didn’t know why. He chose to ignore it. “You heading out?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Spencer nodded, grabbing up his things and shutting off his computer before following Luke over to the elevators. 

And he only had a handful of heart palpitations in the process.

***

The weekend rolled around without a case and as promised, Luke accompanied Spencer to visit his mom. 

Spencer made a point of not hanging out with Luke outside of work, not unless the rest of the team were involved anyway. Over the years Luke had asked Spencer to grab a beer with him on multiple occasions but Spencer always made up an excuse as to why he couldn’t go. 

He knew it was only due to the fact that he was the only other guy on the team around the same age as Luke. Although that did offer up some confusion as to why he still asked even after Simmons joined the team. Maybe because Matt was married with kids, Spencer didn’t have anyone to go home to, much like Luke, until he’d met Lisa anyway. And once he met her, the invitations stopped coming. 

Luke picked Spencer up at ten am on the dot, just like they’d planned, he even brought Spencer coffee from his favourite coffee shop down the street with the perfect amount of sugar. If he wasn’t already smitten with this man, he would have been now. 

Luke drove and they listened to the radio as they travelled to Diana’s facility, giving Spencer something to focus on that wasn’t the close proximity to Luke he found himself in. They made idle chit chat, it wasn’t lost on Luke how Spencer wouldn’t look at him. 

When they pulled up in the parking lot of Diana’s facility, Luke cut the engine and turned to face the younger man. 

“Does this make you uncomfortable? If you don’t want me to meet her I can just wait in the car.” Luke questioned him. 

“No, no I can’t ask you to do that after you’ve driven me out here.” Spencer shook his head.

“I don’t mind. It’s nice to actually spend some time with you outside of work.” Luke felt his cheeks burning as he spoke. 

Spencer frowned, noticing the way Luke reddened although he wasn’t sure why. 

“I’m just worried what state she might be in. I don’t want you to meet her if she’s erratic. And as of late she’s been like that quite a lot. She barely even knows who I am half of the time.” Spencer changed the subject. 

“How about I come in with you and I’ll hang back while you see how she is. If she’s not in a good state I’ll wait in the car.” Luke’s blush faded and he smiled at Spencer. 

“Yeah, I guess that works.” He nodded, quickly getting out of his seatbelt and exiting the car. 

Luke followed him across the parking lot and up the front steps of the building. He noticed the way Spencer clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides as he walked and it only then occurred to him what this must be like for him. It must take its toll, never knowing what state he would find his mother in, never knowing if his own mom would recognise him until it was too late. 

Luke prayed in his head that today his mother would know who he was. He didn’t want Spencer to suffer that embarrassment with him here to witness it. 

Spencer went on ahead into the day room while Luke hung back. He’d never been overly religious, not the way his parents were anyway, but what took place next might just make a believer out of him after all. 

He watched Spencer tentatively approach the woman Luke recognised from the photograph on his desk. She was in an armchair in the window, her head in a book so much like her son. She looked up when she heard movement, looking up at the man standing before her. A few seconds passed before she suddenly leapt to her feet, throwing her arms around Spencer.

“Spencer!” Luke heard her call. “Oh how I’ve missed you.” 

The size of the smile that broke out in Luke’s face could only be beaten by Spencer’s own. Spencer hugged his mother back while Luke watched, his heart feeling like it was floating out of his body. When the hug ended, Spencer turned to Luke with a smile and motioned him over. 

“Mom, this is my friend Luke. Luke Alvez. We work together at the BAU.” Spencer tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible as he introduced Luke. 

“It’s so nice to meet you Mrs Reid, I’ve heard so many things about you.” Luke held out his hand which Diana shook. 

“Luke…” she mused as the three of them took a seat. “I’m sure Spencer has told me about you but the name doesn’t ring a bell.” 

“Sure it does mom, I’ve told you about the whole team.” Spencer hated using his mothers memory loss to his advantage because she was right, he’d never mentioned Luke, not by name anyway. 

“Well if you say you have, you must have.” She gave Spencer a look that told him she didn’t believe him. 

“How are you finding it here in DC?” Luke spoke, sensing a strange tension between mother and son and trying to ease it. 

“Oh you know, dear, a nuthouse is a nuthouse, no matter the city.”

“They prefer the term psychiatric facility, mom.” Spencer rolled his eyes. 

A nurse came over and offered them drinks. Diana opted for chamomile tea, they didn’t encourage coffee drinking for the residents, while Spencer and Luke both took the caffeine route. Once the three of them were alone, Spencer spoke again. 

“This is the best I’ve seen you in a long time. You seem…clear.” He said for lack of a better word.

“I feel clear.” Diana nodded with a soft smile that Luke thought was the spitting image of her sons. “The doctors say it won’t last but it’s a nice reprieve.” 

“I can only imagine.” Spencer sniffed a little and Luke couldn’t help but reach out and place his hand on his arm. 

Spencer turned to look at him, unshed tears behind his eyes. Diana looked between them, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she watched the way her son and Luke looked at each other. 

“Friends you say?” Diana spoke up, causing Luke to quickly pull his hand away. 

“Yes.” Spencer nodded, swallowing thickly. Really good friends.”

“Some might even say best friends.” Diana shook her head in amusement. “Sorry my memory is not what it used to be. So you met at work?”

“Yeah, I’ve been at the BAU for almost three years now.” Luke answered. 

“What did you do before?” 

“Mom, it’s not the Spanish Inquisition.” Spencer scolded her. 

“It’s ok.” Luke laughed with a shake of his head. “Before the BAU I worked for the Fugitive Task Force, man hunting I suppose. And before that I was in the military, the 75th Rangers.”

“You served overseas?” 

“Yeah, I did a tour in Iraq and a couple in Afghanistan.” 

“Your father was a soldier.” Diana didn’t ask, she stated. She always had been good at reading people. 

“He was, yes.” Luke smiled, so many things about Spencer making so much sense now he’d met his mother. 

“Ok, can we stop grilling my friend now?” Spencer interjected. 

“It’s not grilling, Crash, it’s getting to know him. He’s clearly important to you.” Diana spoke like she was speaking to a small child. 

Spencer couldn’t help the blush that spread to his cheeks and he tried to hide it from Luke and looked down at his lap. 

“Yeah he’s important to me, he’s my friend.” He emphasised the last word. 

“Do you know you’re the first “friend” Spencer has ever brought to meet me?” She used air quotes around the word friend and Spencer wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“Mom!” He cried in exasperation. 

“What? It’s true.” She shrugged, not perturbed by Spencer’s tone. 

Thankfully their drinks were brought over and Spencer managed to direct the conversation onto literature and what she’d been reading lately. 

Luke took a backseat just content to listen. Spencer wouldn’t make eye contact with him anymore and Luke didn’t know why. He thought he was missing something but he just couldn’t pinpoint what. 

**

After a few hours of conversation with Diana she started to get tired and the boys decided to let her rest. Spencer excused himself to use the bathroom before the drive back into the city. 

Once they were alone together, Diana’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Luke. 

“So you must be the one.” She clapped her hands together in excitement. 

“The one?” Luke’s brows knitted together. 

“The one in Spencer’s letters!” She looked so pleased, not deterred by Luke’s obvious confusion. “Oh I must have hundreds of them detailing this mystery person. But it has to be you. You’re the best friend my son is in love with.” 

Luke felt his breath hitch in his throat as he stared at the older woman in shock. The combination of the schizophrenia and altzeimers often made her confused, that’s all this was. Luke just had to be delicate in how he approached this, not wanting to call her crazy to her face. 

“Uh…I don’t think so.” He tried to laugh it off. “Maybe you’re mistaken?”

“Oh no, Spencer is very clear in his letters about being in love with his best friend. A member of the team.” She leant forward, her elbows on her knees. 

“Uh…he might be talking about JJ. Definitely not me.” Luke shook his head. 

“My son is incredibly smart.”

“He is.” Luke agreed. 

“If he were talking about a woman he would have said she. But in every single letter he used gender neutral pronouns. He wouldn’t do that unless…” she trailed off, eyes sparkling at Luke. 

“Spencer isn’t…I uh, I don’t think that he’s…” he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Don’t worry, dear. He never came out to me either. But a mother always knows.” She tapped the side of her nose. 

Before Luke could reply, not that he knew how to reply, Spencer returned, offering Luke a smile. 

“Are you ready to go?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Luke nodded, pushing himself to his feet. “It was nice to meet you Mrs Reid.” 

“Oh please,” she smirked, standing and pulling Luke into a tight embrace. “Call me Diana.” 

Spencer hugged his mom goodbye and soon the two were leaving again. They made it out to the front of the building and as Spencer was heading towards the parking lot, Luke’s voice stopped him in his tracks. 

“Your mom told me about your letters.” 

Spencer’s back straightened and he took a breath before he slowly turned back to face Luke. 

“Letters?” He tried to buy himself some time. 

“Yeah.” Luke took a few steps closer to him. “The ones where you told her about your best friend who you're in love with.” 

“Ah.” Spencer sighed. “Those letters.” 

“I tried to tell her it was probably just JJ.” Luke looked suddenly serious, his jaw set. 

“Uh yeah.” Spencer nodded. “You got me. I’m in love with JJ. Really awkward, please don’t tell anyone.” 

Spencer turned to leave again but then Luke’s hand was circling his wrist, keeping him in place. 

“You didn’t use gender specific pronouns.” 

“So?” 

“So why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know.” Spencer shook his head. It was no wonder Luke was so good at getting criminals to confess to their crimes because he was making Spencer want to confess too. 

“Yeah, you do.” Luke shrugged. “You never told me you were gay.” 

“I…I’m…not?” Spencer sighed, scrunching his nose. “Bisexual maybe? I don’t really know what I’d call it, which I guess is why I’ve never told anyone.” 

“So you’re in love with a guy, who is your best friend and that you work with?” Luke clarified. 

“It would seem so.” Spencer felt his heart start to race. “And I inadvertently outed myself to my mother and then to you. So it’s a good day to be me.” 

“I mean that only leaves three people.” Luke’s brow furrowed. “You’re not that close to Matt, and I would think Rossi was too old for you.” 

“Would you believe me at all if I said it was Anderson?” 

“Your mom didn’t know my name.” Luke seemed to ignore him, stepping even closer to him. “Your mom didn’t know my name because you never mentioned it did you? You spoke about me but never said my name.” 

“Fuck,” Spencer hung his head. “Fine, the secrets out, ok? God I didn’t even think she was reading those letters!”

Luke swallowed and raised his hand to cup Spencer’s jaw, lifting his face so he would look at him. 

“What are you trying to say, Spence?” 

Spencer tried to ignore the way his heart did a cartwheel at the way Luke was touching him and the use of his nickname. 

“Please just keep in mind that I don’t want to lose you ok? You’re one of my best friends and I don’t want things to be weird between us.” Tears swam in his eyes. 

“Just say it.” Luke croaked. 

“I…goddamnit,” his first tear fell. “I’m in love with you, Luke. I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry?” Luke kept his hand on Spencer’s face. 

“Because I just ruined our friendship, right?” 

Luke surprised him when he laughed, moving even closer still to him. 

“You know you aren’t the only one who talks to their mom about their secret crush?” Luke chuckled with a shake of his head. “Only I’m not shy in mentioning his name.” 

“You…I…I don’t understand.” Spencer mumbled. 

“Yes you do.” Luke laughed again. “You’re a genius right?” 

“Quantifiably.” 

“Well then, what are the facts telling you, Spence? All those times I asked you out for drinks, the way I can’t keep my eyes off of you when you’re in a room. The way I can’t stop looking at your lips right now…” Luke inhaled sharply. “What do those things tell you?” 

“I…I have a theory.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Hmm.” Spencer nodded. 

“Wanna test it out?” 

“Most definitely.” 

Luke chuckled again before closing the small space between them, and still keeping his hand cupped around Spencer’s jaw, he kissed him. 

Spencer whimpered against Luke’s lips, his knees buckling beneath him. The kiss was gentle but filled with so much longing it almost took Spencer’s breath away. 

It was only brief and when Luke pulled away he was smiling at Spencer from ear to ear. 

“I love you too, by the way.” He shrugged. 

Spencer made another whimpering sound and couldn’t help himself but lean in and kiss Luke again, slightly deeper this time. Luke wrapped him in his arms and held him close. 

“A chuisle mo chroi.” Spencer mumbled against his lips. 

“What is that?” Luke replied. 

“It’s Irish. Don’t worry about it.” 

Luke chuckled, kissing him again before leaning his forehead against Spencer’s. 

“Mi vida.” Luke whispered, stroking back Spencer’s messy hair. 

“I speak Spanish, you know? Mi vida means my life, romantically speaking.” 

“Of course you do.” Luke’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 

Spencer let out a small sigh, running his fingers up Luke’s strong bicep, over his shoulder blade and over the base of his neck. 

“A chuisle mo chroi. The pulse of my heart.” He confessed, causing Luke to kiss him once more, so passionately Spencer felt as though he was floating. 

From the window, Diana smiled to herself as she watched the two men on the sidewalk, her heart soaring for her son. She continued to watch for a moment or two, a warm, fuzzy feeling enveloping her as she leant against the window frame and whispered to herself, “A mother always knows.” 

[johaerys-writes]

.... but not actually on a Friday 😅 I've been reading some new fics while also catching up on some old ones, so let's get to it!!

1. The Rebel's Ascension (Solas/Elvhen OC) by @in-arlathan : The story of how young Solas came to be Fen'harel, in the days of ancient Arlathan. This is one of my fave stories that explores Solas' past with so much imagination and creativity, and it was recently finished so I wanted to give it a shoutout!! @in-arlathan is currently working on a sequel to this story, which I'm excited to get into :D

2. Ouroboros (Solas/Elvhen OC, Dorian/ Male Lavellan) by @mogwaei : So what happens when one of Fen'Harel's agents travels back in time to stop him from fulfilling his plans? What happens if said agent falls in love with Fen'Harel himself AND ALSO finds acceptance and companionship where she least expected it?? These are only some of the questions this story poses, where the past meets the present and everything in between. Lore, intrigue, angst, adventure, banter, EPIC PLOT SPAGHETTI!! If you've been following me a while then you know this is a fic I'll never stop reccing, so pls go read!!

3. Agua Caliente (Achilles/Patroclus) by @baejax-the-great : After his messy divorce and his even messier breakup with his best friend, Achilles opens up a smoothie shop, gets therapy, and gets adopted by a bunch of 20year olds and a stray cat named Socks. A quiet and poignant take on healing and Patroclus' and Achilles' both clumsy and heartwarming attempts to find their way back to themselves and each other. A lovely and emotional read!!

4. Attempts at Domestication (Achilles/Patroclus/Hector) by @mary-aries : A sequel to Feral and Stray (which is a stunning fic if you like dark and complex stories as much as I do) that follows Achilles and Patroclus as they try to navigate the complexities of a relationship after the events of the main fic, and also a threesome with Hector 😳 Gorgeous writing and a very raw and honest look at all the main characters.

While I'm at it, let me mention waving and drowning (Sandy Reid/OC, The Charioteer) by the same author which is honestly one of my fave fics I've read, so sensitive and thoughtful and heartbreaking but so wholesome at the same time. Just a wonderful and cathartic read, if you're a Sandy sympathiser you should def read it!!

5. Closest To My Heart (Achilles/Patroclus/Zagreus) by @darlingpoppet : Achilles is in a sort of a casual sexual arrangement with Zagreus when he finds out that the young Prince has found Patroclus in Elysium. What comes next is Achilles being his most unhinged, possessive self, and Patroclus enabling that possessiveness and codependency and making it even worse, through Zagreus. Deliciously toxic and steamy, I absolutely loved it!!

[queer-cosette]

20 questions for fic writers!!

Thanks for the tag @private-bryan!! :D

How many works do you have on ao3? 45

What’s your total ao3 word count? 715,982

What fandoms do you write for? Heathers, Les Misérables, Total Drama, Derry Girls, Miraculous Ladybug, Equestria Girls, Rainbow High, and Monster High, plus a few original pieces (mostly poetry).

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? mArinette (Miraculous Ladybug), today I woke up wanting to kiss you (Total Drama), Cute Boys With Short Haircuts (Miraculous Ladybug), Mistlejoke (Miraculous Ladybug), and More Adventurous (Miraculous Ladybug)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do my best to - I'm a very anxious person so responding to comments feels a bit like pulling teeth, but if I get one really nice comment on a fic I'll usually reply to it and then while I'm still riding that high reply to all the other ones too.

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Posted, probably vivere sine dolore est (Miraculous Ladybug). Planned, a tie between Max Kanté and the Murder on the Startrain Express (Miraculous Ladybug), and The Mystery Solvers of Derry (Derry Girls).

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I write a lot of fluff, but I think the most cathartic payoff happy ending has to be The Dark Gate (Les Misérables).

Do you get hate on fics? On one fic, my most popular and yet most controversial - mArinette. It's the curse of writing for a big fandom - about 10% of all fandoms are assholes, so the bigger the fandom, the more assholes there are.

Do you write smut? If so what kind? Yup! I was born on the run (but I'll die holding you're hand) and Waitin' on the Sunrise are both Heathers smutfics - the kind that's fluffy, emotional, and trauma-healing (hey, fandom looks for what it didn't get in the source material!). Weirdly, I'm less self-conscious about letting my IRLs read my smutfics than I am about letting them read the fantasy epic stuff.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written? Are we counting fusion here? Putting the characters from one fandom into the plot of another is kinda my jam! Memorable ones include mArinette (Miraculous Ladybug Easy A AU), On Se Sent Comme Par Magie (Les Misérables Winx Club AU), Max Kanté and the Murder on the Startrain Express (Miraculous Ladybug Poirot AU), and The Mystery Solvers of Derry (Derry Girls Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated! AU)

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Hopefully not!

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not by someone else - I've translated a Monster High fic - Ginny MacFerrouson: Profile and Diary - I wrote in Scots to English, but haven't posted the translation yet.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not unless you count goofing around in google docs with @deinde-prandium discussing the possibility of writing a Miraculous Ladybug RENT! AU. I once wrote several snippets of a multifandom Hogwarts AU with an IRL friend, but I'm kind of a control freak who even struggles to relinquish control to a beta reader, so co-written works from me are probably unlikely.

What’s your all-time favourite ship? Right now it's JDonica (Heathers), but other favourites include Marisette, Enjoltaire, and Courferre (Les Misérables), Jerin (Derry Girls), Sunflash (Equestria Girls) and Duncney, Gidgette, and DJxDawn (Total Drama).

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? Right now a lot of fics have had to be put on the backburner while I deal with my ongoing JDonica brainrot, but the one that I'm doubtful of ever going back to is probably 10 Times Carlotta Sugrue-Dupain Got Very, Very Angry. It's a shame, because it was a fun writing exercise for an OC, but she's developed a lot since I posted it, so I doubt I'll ever go back to it.

What are your writing strengths? According to my beta reader for On Se Sent Comme Par Magie, readability, emotional connection with the characters, and engagement with the plot. Ignore the small piece of dust in my eye...

What are your writing weaknesses? Endings. I am so bad at coming up with endings. Usually I try to write the ending before I write the beginning, because if I don't do that, I suck so bad at coming up with an ending.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Here's the thing. English is my second language, my first being Scots, which has a somewhat different spelling system, and 44 of my 45 published fics are in English. I've written bits and pieces of dialogue in French for Miraculous Ladybug and Les Misérables fics, but I mainly use an online translator for that. I don't take issue with other people doing it - sometimes a story requires it, y'know?

First fandom you ever wrote for? Published? Total Drama. Ever? When I was six I wrote fanfiction of a two-part wildlife documentary about whales because the first part ended very tragically and I wanted a happier story. The adventures of Spermy the Sperm Whale (I was six, ok?) was handwritten and illustrated on a little paper booklet and is probably in my attic somewhere.

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? On Se Sent Comme Par Magie, the six part Les Misérables epic!fic set to a Winx Club AU. It's like my beloved child. I've been writing it since 2017 and it's responsible for most of my AO3 word count. And you don't have to know anything about either fandom to read it! My beta reader doesn't. I'm the Will Smith meme pointing to it.

Tagging @deinde-prandium, @theladyfae, @multimousenette, and @hanaasbananas!!

[raccoonfallsharder]

Hello, dear friend. I’d be interested in hearing your take on any of these questions. I always love hearing your thoughts.

A: Of the fanfic you’ve written, which is your favorite and why?

E: What character do you identify with most?  Is there a certain fic of yours that captures these qualities particularly well?

F: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with [insert fic]?

H: How would you describe your writing style?

K:  Do you have a guilty pleasures in fic (reading or writing)?

L:  Which of your fanfics was the most emotionally challenging to write?

Q: Do you like getting prompts from your readers?

R: Which writers (fanfic or otherwise) do you consider the biggest influence on you and your writing?

X: How would you categorize your fanfic reading?  Are you a voracious reader?  Do you carefully pick and choose?  Something in between?

so many questions!!! you sure do know how to indulge a girl ♡ thank you, dear friend. you are my favorite daffodil full of sunshine.

A. window across the galaxy and adorations are my favorites. i think window’s the best longform piece i’ve ever written (and probably ever will) and i poured so much of myself into it. it was everything i wanted for rocket and it was healing for me, and i love and identify with jo so much. and adorations just makes me happy. ohhh you know what? i also really like ugly sweater and traditions. and machinery from prompt week. and triptych, sunshine, sweatshirt girl, and reconnaissance for beginners. and some of headcanons & imagines. shit.

E. i put a lot of myself in every oc and reader tbh. sweatshirt girl and jo are probably the most transparent self-inserts so far and came from places where they were 100% what i wanted to give rocket + the comfort i needed (sweatshirt girl was very much a reflection on my life at the time). well, and reader from tomorrow, which was 100% my attempt at self-comfort after a bad day at work. i reflected a lot of my real-life experiences through those characters, and i based the way they interact with others almost entirely on how i try to move through the world. i also expect to identify with noa at least as much as jo (oc from other duties as assigned, which might be why it’s so hard to write it). and honestly? i identify with rocket a lot. he wears his pain differently than i do but we both have skeletons that are not doing what we want them to do, chronic pain, and buckets of survivor’s guilt. plus i headcanon rocket has a sequencing disorder like me (ꈍᴗꈍ) i allude to it a lot in cicatrix and certain headcanons (like the sudoku one!) and some other things and i'm trying to write a fanfic about it lol

F. the only fic i have a mental playlist for is the very boring adventures of space pilot & sweatshirt girl, and it’s mostly chillhop essentials winter 2019 and aviino’s plush and cocoon albums but the thing is it HAS to be on vinyl because that’s the whole sweatshirt girl vibe

H. my writing style is chaotic, exists entirely outside the bounds of space & time (mostly because of the sequencing disorder) and is more about feeling than making sense. my word choice is self-indulgent and erratic and based more on what tastes right to me than anything else. emotions are way easier to write than plot. (huh. maybe that’s the sequencing disorder too.)

K. do i have any guilty pleasures in fic-writing or -reading?? girl i write raccoon porn. it would all be a guilty pleasure if i believed in guilty pleasures. but i don’t. i try really hard not to feel guilt about any of my pleasures. life is short. capitalism sucks. write about raccoon dick

L. it’s hard to say which piece of fanfiction was the most emotionally challenging for me to write because i think writing is actually a way of organizing and processing emotions for me. if anything, writing emotional scenes feels cathartic — a relief. but finishing things always feels risky. endings rarely satisfy people. so the more people like a piece of mind (blackmail material, window, windfall), the harder it is to end. it's more about trying to manage imposter syndrome than anything else i guess

Q. GIVE ME ALL THE PROMPTS

R. markus zusak has been one of the most influential writers for me. i love that every character in his books has their own story, their own value and journey, independent of the main narrative. jonathan safran foer writes the sentences i want to write. the read like a gut-punch. (he gets quoted a lot in other duties.) both of these writers would probably be horrified by this because im fairly certain they do not write smut, especially not featuring raccoons

X. how do i characterize my fanfic reading? it really depends on what is going on in life. we all have to ration our time and i hate having to choose between reading and writing and drawing, but here we are. if it’s a fic by an author i like, i prioritize it. it can be really hard for me to read things that are released chapter-by-chapter over an extended period, so i am more apt to read things that are short-run or that are close to being finished. but i especially like to support writers i know — which is why i always ask folks to add me if they have a taglist ♡

[wolfsbanesparks]

Crush! One word titles are my favorite!

Hi anon!

This is actually the only non DC fic in my WIP list! It's a two-shot I'm writing for FTH

It's for the Digimon Adventure fandom (which idk if you're familiar with or not so this might not make much sense if you dont) and features two of my favorite characters.

Basically, Jou has a one sided crush on Koushiro and is trying to gather the courage to admit his feelings. Koushiro is aroace in this and is trying to figure out why Jou is acting different/how to explain his lack of interest isn't a rejection of Jou specifically.

I don't usually write romantic things since I'm aroace myself, but this has been really fun to work on. Just the emphasis on their friendship and importance to each other while showcasing some ways aroace people navigate these sorts of situations has been really cool and almost cathartic to write.

[ageless-aislynn]

🍓, 🍊, and 🥭!

Ooo, thanks so much! 😎👍

🍓 What’s a fic you’ve written you feel is underrated?

I don't really have one. I have some I thought might get more engagement because of the pairing or whatever but, for the most part, I just feel lucky that all of my fics have at least one kudos on it, lol! 🤷‍♀️😉

🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)

Vannak and Noble Team (not in the same fic but that might be interesting, right?). I have a fluffy little fic in progress for Vannak that I might even finish one day 🥺🙏 and then I have my big Choose Your Own Spartan Adventure for Noble Team that I would seriously like to write before I ride off into the sunset. 😉

🥭 Rank from most enjoyable/fun to write to least: Fluff, Smut, Angst, Crack.

Smut, Fluff, Crack and Angst. All are very valid, though, and I actually have written the occasional angsty fic and found it cathartic. One might make the argument that ALL of my fics are crack fics, now that I think about it, lol! 🤷‍♀️😂

Thanks again! 💖

fruit emoji ask game for fic writers

[seraphtrevs]

was the canon ending of lacho - nacho dying by his own hand in the middle of nowhere and lalo's only mention of him being a one liner - your worst outcome for lacho? or do you think it could've been worse?

This might be controversial, but I don't think that the ending we got was all that bad for Lacho. It didn't retcon or negate their season 5 story line. It didn't give Lalo a secret wife/girlfriend. It didn't have Nacho suddenly become a raging homophobe. I made a Lacho Power Point presentation a while back about how their fates are eerie echoes of each other, so even if we didn't get them together on screen again, we got a link between them. Maybe it would have been nice to hear Lalo say something about him, but who on the show would he ever share his true feelings with it? Having Lalo react to learning of his death would have been interesting, excpet Lalo never found out that he died.

I can't really think of an ending for them that I would have liked without completely changing the plot of BCS and ignoring BrBa canon. They were doomed from the start (which is part of the reason I love them, because I love star-crossed relationships).

Because there was no way Lalo would have forgiven Nacho in canon. I love to imagine different scenarios in the context of fic, but specifically in canon, it would not work. Maybe if it was just him being a spy, Lalo could look past it, but Nacho made an attempt to assassinate Hector and ended up crippling him in the process. That secret was bound to come out sooner or later (and honestly, just having Lalo never find out would be pretty unsatisfying). There's just no way for it to make any sense for Lalo to find that out and decide to forgive Nacho anyway within such a short span of episodes.

And if Lalo doesn't forgive Nacho, his only other option is to kill him, which means Nacho's only option is to try to defend himself. One (or both) of them killing the other is a really bad Lacho ending for me, even if it meant that the Lalo/Nacho plot was more prominent in the story and we got another few scenes of them. It would feel completely pointless, particularly since the beef that set them against each other in the first place was the one between Hector and Gus, using Lalo and Nacho as their pawns. It wouldn't feel cathartic at all, the way it felt for Will and Hannibal or Louis and Lestat, for example.

An ending where they put their differences aside to team up against their common enemy, Gus, would have been really fun to see...in an alternate reality where BCS is an action/adventure show instead of a tragedy and also isn't a prequel with certain elements of canon that cannot be altered. As a premise for a fic, it's fantastic. But BCS is a prequel, and we already know that Gus makes it. Lalo and Nacho teaming up, only to be killed by Gus, is a bad Lacho ending, especially since there was not room for a slowburn plot about their relationship. Them hating each other and then immediately dying before their relationship was given time to evolve would not have been satisfying.

Basically, any ending that would have been "good" for Lacho would have been bad for the show. Maybe if the show had ten seasons, Nacho and Lalo's relationship could have been a more central plot point. But it was six seasons instead, and as much as I would love more BCS and more Lacho, I know in my heart that ten seasons would have ruined it. Making it longer would have involved making it more episodic, like shows like Star Trek or Buffy, which isn't the right format for the story they were telling - the fall of Jimmy McGill, with all of the other plots being tools to tell that story.

So I think all of the best case scenarios for Lacho are the sole domain of fic, which is fine! I've always considered canon as just one way to experience characters, with reading/writing fic being just as enjoyable

[actualmermaid]

There are currently four Old Guard fic ideas bouncing around in my head:

Tragic villain OC from Holiest Among The Living, after being killed by Nicky, goes to a weird Norse pagan/medieval Christian afterlife and gets his painful but redemptive soul journey. Dark and messy, but cathartic.

Canonverse Joe and Nicky getting-together fic. They hang out with Joe's friends and family and balance their various conflicts. Joe realizes that a lot of his friends are assholes when one of them is inhospitable to Nicky. Happy and sexy, but poignant.

Joe and Nicky visit Nicky's old religious order in Genoa. Everyone is friendly and polite and trying not to be awkward, but they break the ice by writing down a conversation about religion between Joe and Nicky and preserving it for posterity. A comedy of manners for people who think medieval Christianity is interesting.

Nile goes to live with Joe and Nicky while she figures out what her immortality is going to mean for her going forward. She has some conversations with them between going on wild solo adventures in Madrid. Fun with light angst and missionfic elements.

The problem is that I want to write all of them, but I cannot commit to four fics at once. If you have ever enjoyed anything that I've written, I'd love to know which of these you would be interested in reading (and reviewing/recommending to others!)

(I especially welcome feedback from people who wanted to read Holiest but thought it might be too scary for them)