#and when i separated the best shots i end up with 16

[sorryiliketoscreenshot]

"By the way... I always leave an emergency exit in my programs... You never know..."

[boozenboze]

Take A Sip But Don’t Spill It TF 141 x Male reader Summary:After joining the Military at 16, and becoming an irreplaceable hacker, M/n ended up leaving the Military after an incident with his old team. 4 years had passed since then and the man had acquired a job at a well known bar in a downtown area. During the 141’s mission, they were in need of a hacker due to the new mission they had been called to. After a lot of digging, Laswell was able to find the location of the once known soldier who went by Tech.

Fun fact: M/n (you) joined the Military at the same age and time as Gaz :)

Females She/Her and She/They DNI

“Hey can I get another shot over here!” A voice rang through the bar as the bartender approached. His fancy attire made his e/c eyes pop under the mood lights throughout the bar. The man poured the shot before returning to the main area where he would greet people. The man wiped of a few tables when a woman walked in, she had blonde hair and blue eyes. The h/c haired male then went to the front and stood inside the cocktail lounge.

“Hello what can I do for you today?” The man asked as he grabbed a glass.

“Yeah can I get a shot of whiskey and vodka mixed together?” The blonde asked as the h/c haired man looked at her confused

“Ma’am I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The server said looking the woman in the eye. “Mixing a dark and a clear liquor together will make you feel s-“

“Just give me the drink.” The woman cut the server off looking annoyed

The server was heavily annoyed but went ahead and made the drink. He gave the drink and the woman put her payment on a tab. She walked away and went by a group of girls who seemed to be her friends. The server sighed while preparing some more glasses to be put to use.

////

“You said that he’d be here Laswell.” Price questions, skeptical if they had come to the right place. Soap and Gaz looked at the fancy looking building with sparkles in their eyes. Laswell and the 141 had been searching for a certain someone. M/n 'Tech' L/n, ex hacker and very skilled man. He was the best in his time, being the same age as Gaz when he joined the Military. He gained his code name because of his skills, and his fast working coding. That's the purpose of the 141 and Laswell being where they are now. After a lot of digging, Laswell learnt that Tech had a job at a popular bar.

“To say this guy was in the military, it’s quite shocking that he works at a place like this.” Gaz said as Soap chuckled

“Maybe he’d give us a discount.” The Scot replies playfully as Ghost sighed at their antics.

“Listen up, we came here for one thing, we convince this guy to help us, get into those bastards system and go our separate ways. Clear?” Price said as he looked at everyone with a serious demeanor.

“Yes sir.” The men and Laswell then made their way inside. The place had a nice interior and exterior design, you wouldn’t have thought it was a bar.

“This place looks fancy…” Gaz said as he looked at all the neon lights that’s changed color every so often. The smell of liquor and beer was the most prominent scent and it gave them all an itch to have a drink.

“Ok let’s split up, I’ll go by myself, Gaz and Price you two stay together. Ghost and Soap, same to you.” Laswell said as she looked at them all.

“Yes ma’am.” Soap said sarcastically as he began walking in another direction, Ghost followed close behind him. Gaz and Price moved to where some of the seats were before sitting down. They tried to look like any regular guests, not wanting to foil their current task.

Laswell approached the bar, seeing at least 2-3 bartenders at work. She was looking for a specific man, with h/c hair and e/c eyes. She approached a stool and sat down, waiting to see who would serve her. A good 8 minutes went by before a well dressed bartender approached. His suit looked fresh and crisp, having no wrinkles whatsoever. His h/c hair was well kept, and looked neat as well.

“Welcome to ******* I will be your server for today.” The man asked as he wiped off the inside of a glass before placing it down. He didn’t look at her until he placed the glass down and looked up. A look of surprise could be seen on his face upon seeing Laswell.

“Um…what can I get for you..?” The man said, shock still on his face as he approached the bottles.

���Just a beer would do.” Laswell said as she watched the h/c haired male prepare the beer. He looked pretty calm to say the least, but shock was still clear on his face.

“How’ve ya been M/n?” Laswell questions as she took a sip of the beer. Her eyes locking with M/n's e/c eyes, as he let out a chuckle.

"Alright...for the most part, people here can be quite shitty. But hey, I digress, how have you been Kate?" M/n asked as he looked at the dirty blonde woman. Laswell smiled at him but her facial expression turned full blown serious as she looked at the ex-soldier.

"I'd be fine...if the enemy wasn't stealing information from the Military's data base." Laswell said while looking M/n dead in the eye. M/n looked at her in shock and confusion, if that was happening right now why was she at the bar. Shouldn't she be working on finding the fuckers who were stealing their intel?

"Kate...shouldn't you be working on finding the bastards, and not be drinking at the pub?" M/n asked as he took Laswell's finished glass of beer before setting it aside and crossing his arms. The veins in his arms and hands were visible and those who were close enough to see were drooling over him.

"I have located them..., but we need a guy who has had experience with coding and well, hacking." Laswell said as she looked M/n in the eye. The e/c eyed man looked nervous now, was she trying to recruit him into the mission?

"I-uh Laswell i'm not in the military anymore.." M/n said as he walked to the employees only room. Laswell followed close behind him and grabbed him by the shoulder, making him turn around.

"You can be, plus M/n there's a 50% chance that this mission won't go smoothly without you, I know you've been off the field for 4 years but that doesn't change the fact that you used to be a soldier. A great one at that." Laswell said to M/n trying to convince him, "I know that somewhere in that stubborn head of yours Tech is still there, and that your skills are something you of all people could never lose."

"Laswell I-" M/n was cut off by Laswell saying

"We need you M/n."

M/n looked at her for a few moments before going inside of the employees only room. Laswell stood there, now hearing some approaching footsteps behind her. The rest of the group were now standing behind her, wanting to know what was happening.

"So..what'd he say?" Soap asked as he looked at Laswell, his gaze occasionally shifting to the door that M/n had walked through.

"Nothing, i'm just waiting to see if he'll consider helping us.” Laswell said as she stared at the door with hope in her eyes. M/n walked out the room with a bag that contained his laptop and a few other gadgets.

“Alright, hurry up so we can get this done…” M/n’s voice dragged when he saw the 4 men behind Laswell

“I-Uh…who are they?” M/n asked as his gaze shifted between the men and Laswell. He was quite interested and also intimidated by the me.(Mainly Ghost)

“Task Force 141, but you can introduce yourselves later we have a mission to do.” Laswell said as she looked between M/n and the others. She could see the way Soap was staring at Tech’s attire, and even the others had to admit that the s/c skinned male looked good.

/////

“Eye’s on the target, get in position.” Price said as he looked through the scope on his sniper. He had his eyes on the main man that they were after, the same guy who had been stealing their intel. Gaz and Soap were inside, hiding and making their way through the building. They took down any enemies that would possibly get in their way as they kept moving. Ghost and Tech were on the rooftop, Tech doing what he did best as Ghost sat their sniping down any enemies that were getting to close to Soap and Gaz.

The sound of typing could be heard as Tech hacked into the buildings systems. He shut the lights off in the lower half of the building and short circuited the automatic doors. Tech worked fairly quickly as he began messing with the computer bases that the enemy was using. Every time Tech hacked into the enemies devices they would get flashed by a bright light that stunned them for a period of time.

“You seem pretty good at that Tech.” Gaz said over his radio as he did a takedown move on an enemy.

“I’m in the zone right now don’t disturb me.” Tech said as his fast typing remained the same. Ghost glanced over at the other man who was still nicely dressed. Tech had insisted that he’d be alright without any proper gear, considering that he wouldn’t be getting close enough for the enemy to be able to shoot and try and attack him.

Something that had immediately attracted Ghost to Tech was his hands. Tech may not have been taller than Ghost himself but the veins in Tech’s fast moving hands were something Ghost failed to not look at.

The mission was coming to an end, Soap and Gaz had cornered the main man behind all the stolen info, and they were now detaining him.

“Nice job sergeant.” Ghost said as he looked over at Tech who had shut down his computer. The man stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles, his veins popping out more as he did.

Ghost found himself staring at Tech’s hands for far to long before saying.

“You work out a lot?” Ghost asked as he and Tech made their way down the building that they had set up on.

“I do, not that much though. I usually just do it to stay toned ya know?” Tech said as he and Ghost descended the buildings stairs. Ghost hummed, realizing that he usually didn’t make small talk with people he didn’t know. Tech must have been different from most if he somehow got Ghost wanting to talk to him.

The two then stuck to silence as they went to regroup with the others.

///////

“You did good out there M/n, great job.” Laswell complimented as she walked to M/n’s side.

“Heh, thanks….Laswell.” M/n responded nervously as he sat in the back of the truck that they had arrived in. Gaz was driving, listening in on Tech and Laswell’s conversation.

“Imagine how this thing would’ve ended if we didn’t have your help mate.” Gaz said as he looked at Tech through the rear view mirror.

“What made you quit anyway?” Soap jumped in, looking at Tech with curiosity in his face and tone.

Tech was now quiet, as if he had been sworn to silence as to way he drafted from the Military. The tension in the truck was high, so…thick to the point that it could be cut with a knife. Price cleared his throat, attempting to break the silence as he glanced over at Tech who was now holding his pistol. He seemed to be relishing how he used to always use the gun before his sudden departure.

“So uhh….would you like to join again? The Task Force I mean.” Price questions, his voice holding a serious tone while he continued to look at the road before them. The sound of the ac and the tires were again the loudest thing.

“I mean…I don’t know. I’ve been off the field for 4 years now…” Tech said as he glanced outside of the window. He recalled the day of the incident in full detail. Having endured 5 gunshot wounds, and still having the spirit to finish hacking the enemies lockdown system so he and his team could escape. You could have imagined how betrayed and hurt he was when he heard his team talk and execute on the plan of leaving him behind. That was something that stuck in the back of his mind since he left, and the fact that Price was trying to offer him a spot in the Task Force scared him a bit.

“You’d be a great addition to the team, and, look I don’t know what happened back then that made you quit but guess what.” Price said as he sat up and glanced at everyone in the truck, all of them besides Tech knowing what he was about to say.

“No one fights alone.” Price concluded, earning a nod from everyone in the truck besides Tech. The words seemed to have struck something in Tech as his eyes lit up for a moment.

Even if the words were or weren’t true, they did instill some type of hope in Tech’s spirit. He now had a choice to make.

Join the Task Force 141 or Don’t

A/n-Heyy…. How y’all doin? Expect to see more of me again 😁😅. Also HAPPY PRIDE MONTH BITCHES 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️⚧🦗🦟🦗🦟🦗

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: Violent Innocence

Plot: A separated Joel and Y/n work different angles to try and best David and his men.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, implied attempted SA, insinuated abuse, c*nnibalism, knives, guns, blood, wounds, language, loss of a child, ptsd, (16+)

A/N: This was a hard, hard chapter to get through, guys. If the quality of my writing isn’t up to its regular standard, it’s because it was truly emotionally taxing to write. I’ve also left out descriptions of certain events/discoveries/dialogue in an effort to keep the 16+ rating.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who does not have their age/range in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I advise everyone to take a breather, or just skip to the end of the chapter, if it’s too much to handle. Ep.8 was traumatizing and I don’t fault anyone for not wanting to put themselves through it again. I’m so looking forward to finishing out this series with y’all and the finale tonight. Thank you thank you thank you for your constant support and encouragement ☀️

——————

Unlike the movies, where the main character on the verge of death is miraculously returned to the living, Joel did not wake with a start. Still lost in the haze of blood loss, hunger and medicinal side effects, his eyes hurt to open. He registered the room, remembering being dragged down a flight of stairs and falling into a mattress.

One memory dripped down before the flood unleashed.

Ellie and Y/n.

Stay awake.

Men coming.

Leading them away.

Kill them.

The footsteps on the floor above startled Joel, the ticking clock and the realization that Ellie and Y/n were gone motivated him to roll off the bed. He stifled a groan, hurrying to his feet, clutching the knife that Ellie had placed in his palm. He wobbled his way to the rear of the room, falling against a water heater that could conceal him.

Joel listened for the footsteps over the blood pounding in his ears.

They crept through the room.

He waited…until the man finally passed the heater.

Joel couldn’t have possibly known that it was the same man who, five minutes before, had clubbed Y/n and ordered David’s men to shoot her and Ellie. But he slashed his knife through him as if he’d watched it happen.

After wrestling the man to the ground and assuring that he was dead, Joel rolled off him, wheezing for breath. He tried to gather his thoughts on his back. There were more men, all looking for him, Y/n and Ellie. They weren’t back yet, which meant they’d either been kidnapped or killed. Most likely kidnapped, so long as Ellie’s bite wound hadn’t been visible. Tortured, maybe, or worse.

Joel inhaled as deep as he could and began to drag his body across the floor towards the stairs. Towards his girls.

—————————

Y/n leaned her head back against the concrete wall, wondering why the fuck there was a cage inside a kitchen.

She’d carried Ellie into it, the butt of David’s follower’s rifles pressing into her back as they forced her in. They’d both been stripped of their winter coats and weapons. She had yet to get any answers as to why they wanted them there or what they were planning to do to them. Ellie hadn’t woken up, leaving Y/n on her own to try every conceivable possibility to escape. None had succeeded.

David entered then, finally gracing Y/n with his holy presence. He pulled up a seat across from the cage, smiling politely.

“How is she?”

Y/n turned her head, indignant at the fact that David’s men had shot at them, caused Ellie’s injuries, and yet he had the nerve to inquire about her wellbeing.

David tried a different approach, “I know this all must be a bit strange…”

Y/n bristled, “I lived in Texas, I’ve seen a lot weird shit, but, uh,” Y/n took a look at her surroundings, “Yeah, a jail cell next to a butcher’s block is an unusual feature.”

“We only use it when necessary,” David held up two innocent hands, “I’d love to explain our community more to you, but it’d be nice to know your name first.”

“Beyonce,” Y/n answered without hesitation.

The preacher chuckled under his breath, “You’re very quick. Stepping in to portect your daughter, your…what, your husband? Boyfriend?”

Y/n had been interrogated so many times, had sustained so many injuries in FEDRA lockup, that there weren’t many tactics that could work on her. David trying to get a feel for her and Joel’s relationship was a waste of breath.

He sighed, tapping his hands against his knees in wait. “You know we’re not here to hurt you,” he said softly.

“Gee, I wonder where I would have gotten that idea,” Y/n retorted, “What with my fucking head splitting and my kid unconscious on the floor.”

“An unfortunate turn of events, yes,” David corrected her, “But we’re protective of our own. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Y/n didn’t move a muscle, staring David down, “Oh, yeah. We’re one and the same there,” she cracked a smile, vengeance practically dripping from her lips, “And that should scare you.”

David, however, only found her threats mildly amusing. He exhaled with a small laugh, Y/n rather preferred being underestimated. It caused people to leave their weak spots exposed. She was sure if she looked hard enough, she could find David’s.

Beside her, Ellie finally began to stir, drawing Y/n’s attention. She scurried to place her hands on Ellie’s back, helping the girl to sit up.

“Me and your mother were starting to worry you wouldn’t wake up,” David said.

Ellie’s vision was blurry and her entire body hurt, her words didn’t carry their usual edge as she told David, “Let us out.”

“Well, that’s certainly the goal,” David nodded, “Hungry?”

“Why are we in a cage?” Ellie hazily took in their surroundings.

“Because I’m afraid of you,” David gave the same calm smile he’d given Y/n, “You’re a dangerous person. You’ve certainly proven that. The others want me to kill you two for what’s happened.”

Y/n held Ellie steady as she got to her knees, neither of them particularly alarmed by David’s words.

He leaned forward, “Did you hear me say the others wanna kill you?”

“Yeah,” Ellie breathed.

“But I stopped them.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie said on behalf of both her and Y/n.

“Why don’t we just start with your name?” David asked once more.

Ellie didn’t miss a beat, “Eat shit.”

“Hey,” David’s voice rose, “Listen to me!”

As he got to his feet, Y/n did as well, coming to meet him at the cage wall as Ellie scurried to the far end of their prison. Y/n wanted to rip into him purely for startling the girl.

“You can’t survive on your own,” David continued, his eyes looking past Y/n to land on Ellie, “No one can. But I can help you,” his gaze finally flicked up, “Let me protect you two.”

“We don’t need your help or your protection,” Y/n enunciated every word clearly.

“And we’re not on our own,” Ellie added from behind Y/n.

David nodded, “Right. Your friend,” his face changed to accommodate faux concern one might use on a child, “And how is he?”

Behind her eyes, Y/n’s mind flicked to Joel, beads of sweat around his temples, breathing so frighteningly shallow, his tan skin deathly pale. She couldn’t admit to the fear pooling in her belly that against David’s men, Joel might have lost the fight.

“I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts,” David continued, l having broken Y/n and Ellie’s first line of defense, “But even so…you gotta face reality.”

David turned and began to circle the cage. Ellie and Y/n moved as one, Ellie crawling in the opposite direction and Y/n standing in front of her as a shield.

“That part of your lives, it’s ending,” David went on, finally stopping on the other end of the cage, “And what I’m offering you is a beginning. But if you can’t find a way to trust me, then yes,” his eyes scanned Ellie, “You are alone.”

Without another word, David walked off through a door in the kitchen, leaving Y/n and Ellie to themselves.

Y/n was on her knees immediately, holding Ellie’s face in her hands and checking her head.

“Definitely got your bell rung,” Y/n lightly ran a finger over the pink bruise at Ellie’s hairline.

“What the fuck do we do?” Ellie asked, unconcerned about her injuries.

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Y/n replied, stroking a quick hand over Ellie’s hair, “I’ve already tried to window up there,” she pointed to a small pane of glass above them, “I can’t break it. Guns are over there in the corner,” she gestured to the edge of the room. And I can’t-“

Y/n was cut off by Ellie, throwing her arms around her body. The girl pressed the side of her face into Y/n’s chest, her short breaths warming Y/n’s skin through her layers.

Of all the horrible memories Y/n carried from September 26th, 2003, there was one in particular that lived in her chest every second of every day. As she had clutched Sarah in her arms, with Joel trying to assess her mortal injuries, Sarah had tried desperately to speak. Her lips pressed together, only able to make a humming sound. Y/n had shushed her, telling her that it was okay, she was okay, they’d all be okay…and that had been the last of it.

Whatever Sarah had needed to say died on her lips, but lived on in Y/n’s mind. She had spent so long, playing the memory back, watching the girl’s mouth, listening to the buzz in her throat, unable to rest until she knew what she’d wanted to say in her final minutes.

It took her one year to figure it out, and twenty to accept.

Mom.

Y/n had failed Sarah just as Joel felt he had failed. She’d spent the last two decades telling herself she could have jumped in front of them, she could have yanked Sarah out of Joel’s arms, she could have attacked the guard…all things her brain knew there hadn’t been enough time for, but guilt and logic never agreed on anything. Y/n had begged God, the skies, the earth, the universe, anyone, for a second chance. For some miraculous, mind-bending turn of events to send her back to that day and save her daughter.

And as she cradled Ellie in her arms, pressing a kiss to the girl’s head, she knew her second chance lay not in the past, but in the future.

“We’re gonna get out of this,” Y/n said, speaking with a strength she hadn’t in twenty years, “I promise.”

David was right about one thing, they had to face reality.

Joel wasn’t coming to save them.

They were on their own.

And Y/n would be damned if she failed to save someone she loved again.

————————————

Joel had tried to keep his violent side hidden from both Ellie and Y/n during their time together. He’d slipped with the FEDRA guard in Boston, remembering the terror in Y/n’s eyes as she’d watched him beat the young man to death. Whether or not he knew it, he’d tried from that moment on to be better.

But now, with their lives at stake, Joel didn’t care about better.

Every punch he drove into the raider’s face he had tied to the chair was pure rage, the only thing strong enough to keep him upright. The pleas of the bloody pulp of a man fell on deaf ears.

“Stop…stop, please…”

Joel rammed his fist against his cheek once more, silencing him.

“Leave him alone,” the raider who Joel had yet to touch urged from the other side of the room.

“You’re next,” Joel muttered, withdrawing the knife from his belt with a spine-tingling smirk.

“Please,” the man he’d been hitting begged, “I don’t know any girls.”

Joel was a human lie detector, having seen both the best and worst of humanity. He didn’t have to second guess whether it was the right decision to drive his knife into the man’s knee.

“Marco,” the guy tried to call, his voice strained from his screams of pain.

“No-no, no-no-no,” Joel cooed, his soft tone contrasting the roughness in which he pulled the man by his hair, “He can’t help you. You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.”

The man’s breath trembled as Joel gripped him, knowing that betraying David came at its own cost. “They’re alive,” he admitted.

The hope spread through Joel, but it couldn’t outmatch the anger that doubled at the thought of Y/n and Ellie being held and tortured. “Where?”

When Joel didn’t get his answer quick enough, he reached down and twisted the knife in the man’s leg.

“Ah! Fuck,” he squealed, “Fuck! Ah! The town!”

“WHAT TOWN?!” Joel screamed into his face.

“Silver Lake,” the man panted, wincing after.

Joel reached into his pocket, taking out his map and unfolding it.

“It’s not a real town name,” his victim said, his speech slow from the ache in his jaw, “It’s a resort.”

Now that was a word Joel hadn’t heard in a long time, “A resort?”

Feeling each precious second that Y/n and Ellie were still breathing slipping away, Joel removed his knife from the man’s leg and forced his mouth open, slipping the handle in. “You’re gonna point to where we are,” he held up the map towards the guy’s head, “And where your resort is. And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.”

Joel had a death grip on his hair, pressing their foreheads together and feeling his near-attacker’s body tremble with fear. Trying his best, the man aimed the blade at the map, pinpointing their location. Fear could always deliver results.

Joel sat back, examining the drip of blood that served as a marker. His body ached with exhaustion, but his chest felt the same pain it had for the last three months. The kind that was usually a precursor his panic attacks, except now, adrenaline was all that followed.

“That’s where we are,” the man whimpered, “I swear. Go ask him, he’ll tell you. I’m not lying.”

There had never been a question as to whether or not Joel would show mercy. These men had seen Ellie and Y/n, knew where they were being kept, they might have even laid hands on them.

Joel slid the blade into the man’s chest without a second thought.

Marco unleashed a string of expletives as Joel caught his breath.

“Why the fuck did you do that? He told you what you wanted,” Marco whined.

Joel took clumsy steps across the room, reaching for the lead pipe Marco had carried in with him that now lay across the couch.

“You motherfucker, fuck you,” Marco spat as Joel strode towards him, “I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

“It’s okay,” Joel nodded empathetically, calling on the same disarming tactics he had in his days as a raider, “I believe him.”

In that moment, Joel wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t the villain.

He was a father and a husband.

And he brought the pipe down with all the fury one could possess.

—————————

Ellie was relentless.

“El,” Y/n insisted as the girl continued to try and pick the lock, “I already tried that.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” Ellie replied as she tugged on it.

“Yes, ‘cause this is just so pleasant,” Y/n spread her arms out to the cage, “Look, we’re not getting out of here like that. We’ve gotta wait for him to slip up.”

Ellie looked over her shoulder, “What do you mean?”

“He thinks we’re two little lost lambs or sheep or whatever, all alone without anyone to protect us,” Y/n explained, “We’ve gotta wait for the exact right moment when he fucks up and gives us an opportunity.”

“Okay,” Ellie nodded before quickly turning back to the lock.

Y/n slapped her hands against her legs, “I just gave you the plan.”

“I thought I felt it jiggle,” Ellie insisted, shaking the lock a few more times before coming to a sudden stop and stumbling backwards towards Y/n.

Y/n caught her in confusion, “What?”

She followed Ellie’s line of vision across the room to the chopping block, falling south to the floor. Y/n’s stomach turned at the sight…

An ear.

An actual fucking ear.

In all his perfect timing, David entered just then, carrying a tray and sliding it under the cage walls. Two bowls of soup and a cup of water.

David followed Ellie and Y/n’s eyes down to the butcher’s block, frowning when he realized what they were looking. “For what it’s worth,” he gestured to the bowls, “This is just deer meat, I swear.”

Ellie and Y/n were separately connecting all the dots of why they were being held where they were. They could have been trapped anywhere in the town, their weapons stripped from them and beaten into submission. This was a purposeful choice.

“You’re going to chop us into little pieces,” Ellie stated.

“I’d rather not,” David answered, “Please, just tell me your names.”

Y/n forced herself to exhale, wondering how the hell he could be so focused on a trivial detail.

“If you wanna judge me-“ David shrugged.

“Judge you?” Ellie raised her voice to a scream, surging forward to grab the metal bars, “You’re eating people, you sick fuck!”

She kicked the tray across the floor, it landed under the chopping block. David backed away from her anger.

“Yes,” David replied, “There are only a few of us who know. But I would’ve told you, sooner or later. I guess sooner.”

“You’re a fucking animal,” Y/n seethed, finally finding the strength to speak.

“Well, yes, we all are,” David said, his sociopathic calm tone beginning to worry both Y/n and Ellie, “That’s sorta of the point,” he took in Ellie’s disgust, “It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do? Let them starve? These people who put their lives in my hands, w-who expect me to keep them save, who love me?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ellie shot back.

“You don’t believe that,” David shook his head, “I don’t think your friend would either. Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?”

“Your men fucking attacked us,” Y/n added, her tone sharp.

“He was defending himself,” Ellie replied.

“He was defending you and your mother,” David corrected, even though he was calling on Y/n, his eyes were locked on Ellie’s, “But you knew that. You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you?”

Y/n watched the conversation in wait, it was beginning to alarm her that he was focusing all his attention on Ellie.

“Me,” he continued, “You remind me of me. You’re a natural leader, smart…loyal. Violent.”

Ellie froze at his words, while Y/n took a step forward.

“Keep going and you’ll see how violent I can be,” she threatened.

“Now, see, your mother,” David gestured to Y/n but never once looked at her, “She is deeply afraid, faking her confidence with threats. But that’s not who she actually is. I could unlock this door, hand her her gun, and she still might not be able to do what she needs to to protect you.”

Y/n’s nostrils flared at the assumption that she wouldn’t break his neck to save Ellie.

“But you, on the other hand…” David continued speaking to Ellie, “If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. You have a violent heart. And I should know…” David took slow steps towards the cage, his eyes alight, “I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time. But then the world ended and I was shown the truth.”

“Right…” Ellie muttered, “By God.”

“No,” David breathed, “By Cordyceps. What does Cordyceps do? Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence, if it must. It loves.”

Y/n’s blood heated to a boil, her cheeks warming with rage. Cordyceps had taken everything and everyone she had ever loved. It was the purest form of evil nature had ever created. She wanted to cut through David, whispering the names of all her lost family into his ear as she did.

But this wasn’t her opportunity.

“Why are you telling us all this?” Ellie asked, she still believed it was a conversation between three people.

“Because you can handle it,” David said, Y/n may as well have not even been in the room, “The way the others can’t. They need God, they need Heaven,” David took another step towards the cage, “They need a father. You don’t. You’re beyond that. I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep, and all I want…is an equal. A friend.”

Alarms rang in Y/n’s head so loud, she thought they were real. But Ellie was playing the game that Y/n had told her to, and she couldn’t stop her.

“What about our friend?”

“Like I said, loyal,” David nodded before taking another slow step towards them, “I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They’ll spare him.”

Ellie looked up to Y/n, convincingly filling her eyes with hope, before looking back to David. Y/n quickly adjusted her expression to match, pretending as if Joel’s safety was the only thing that mattered.

“Really?” Ellie took a step forward towards David, “They’ll just let him go?”

“Yes,” David answered confidently, “If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go.”

It wasn’t hard for Y/n to whip up some tears, taking a choking breath in and following Ellie towards the metal bars.

“They do what I tell them to do. They follow me,” David was getting closer and closer, his gaze fixated, obsessed with Ellie, “And they would follow us. Lord knows, I could use the help. I-“ he chortled, gesturing to below the chopping block, “Look what’s happened.”

David extended his hand, gripping one of the horizontal metal bars between him from Ellie and Y/n. They stared down at it, considering their options.

“Think of what we could together,” David said, his voice alive with passion, “As strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people.”

Ellie reached to grab the other side of the bar, her hand perilously close to David’s. Y/n had to fight every instinct to rip her body behind her own.

“Imagine the life we could give them,” David said wistfully, moving his hand to slide over Ellie’s, “Imagine the life we could build.”

David may not have been watching her, but Y/n made effort to drop two tears down her cheeks and sniffle as if it was the most beautiful idea in the world…

“Oh,” Ellie whispered, reaching a nearly shaking palm up to David’s hand, hoping that Y/n sensed that the moment was upon them.

Ellie pushed David’s finger back, a sickening crack erupting in his hand. As he cried out in pain, Y/n dropped down to her knees, pulling him in by his belt and grabbing the keys off their hook. Unfortunately, he wriggled out of Ellie’s grasp and reached through the bars, grabbing Y/n by the throat and squeezing. Y/n gagged and choked as his fingers tightened, but she still held onto the keys.

Ellie struck a blow to David’s abdomen, causing him to drop Y/n and stumble backwards. In the sudden movement, Y/n dropped the keys to the floor and nearly fell. David was quick to come back, grabbing Ellie’s hair and slamming her face into the bars twice before throwing her down.

“You little cunts,” he seethed, picking up the keys from the floor, “Let’s see what I go tell the others now.”

Y/n coughed violently, earning each and every breath back, but bent over Ellie to make sure she was alright. The girl’s blood painted the floor of their cell.

“Ellie,” she said, crawling past Y/n and towards David.

David turned, “What?”

“Tell them Ellie is the little girl,” the girl crawled to the bars, raising her voice, “Who broke your fucking finger!”

“How did you put it?” David asked, his tone mocking them now, “Hmm? ‘Tiny little pieces?’”

He stormed out of the room, slamming it behind him and leaving Ellie and Y/n to contemplate their impending doom.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, rubbing her already sore neck and forming a plan in her dizzy head. “Okay, when they come in, I’ll take them and you fucking run.”

“No,” Ellie replied quickly, stumbling to her feet, “No, we-“

“You’re going to get the fuck out of here,” Y/n continued, emphasizing each of the last words, “And you’re going to run.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you,” Ellie yelled, shoving Y/n’s arms.

“And I’m not asking,” Y/n yelled back, feeling her fate slowly approaching. If it bought Ellie time, it was all worth it.

She gripped Ellie’s shoulders, wrenching her closer and locking eyes with her. “You. Run.”

———————————

The snow outside had picked up, nearly blinding Joel as he trudged through the ice, clutching his abdomen the whole way.

He’d made it to Silver Lake, against all odds, but didn’t know the first place to look. He kept his good ear peeled, trying to listen for Y/n or Ellie’s cries, but the storm made that impossible. Leaned up against one of the resort’s buildings, trying to catch his breath, Joel tried to think clearly about his next move.

Then his eyes caught the trail of blood in the snow and logic went out the window.

Joel followed the crimson that led him to the building’s door. He broke the lock with the butt of his rifle and entered, clicking on his flashlight and drawing his pistol. He crept through the shed, bending down once to search under a table and finding only old clothes and useless supplies. Then, he spotted a nearly identical trail of blood leading into the next room.

All the while his heart thudded with fear, fear of failure.

Joel made no noise as he entered the room, shining his flashlight ahead to find what was left of one of their horses. They’d captured Y/n and Ellie while riding. The picture of their kidnapping was beginning to fill with color.

Joel shone his flashlight past the horse, finding tarps over equipment and…something…hanging on the other side. He moved around the animal’s body to get a closer look…

His stomach turned.

He had to fucking hurry.

—————————

David stormed through the door with James right behind him. Ellie and Y/n scurried away from the cage’s front. Y/n hadn’t expected a second set of hands, it made her entire plan impossible.

“No! No! No!” Ellie screamed, pressing herself into Y/n’s body in fear.

David and James wrenched the two of them apart.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping someone might hear them and come running, “No!”

“Get off of me!” Ellie shrieked, kicking at both of the men, “Get off of me!”

If Y/n had been on 10, Ellie’s pleas dialed her up to 12. She picked up her entire body weight and let herself drop to the floor, bringing James with her. He stumbled, but regained his footing and dragged Y/n out of the cell, kicking and screaming.

“No!” Ellie yelled, biting down on David’s all-too-close hand.

“Ow,” the preacher cried out, but stayed undeterred in his mission. He pulled Ellie out of the cell.

Y/n wrestled against Jame’s firm grip, flailing her arms as she tried to reach around and scratch him. She’d tear him to pieces with her hands, if the chance came.

“You motherfucker,” she cried, trying to catch her leg on anything that might slow them down, but he lifted her onto the chopping block as if she was nothing. James held her hands down at her sides, giving Y/n the opportunity to spit in his face.

“Wait, wait,” Ellie begged as David dragged her towards the block.

“Shut up,” James growled, narrowly dodging Y/n’s head butt.

David lifted Ellie up and dropped her harshly on Y/n, knocking the wind out of the woman with Ellie’s weight. He forced Ellie’s hands into Y/n’s, lining the two of them up.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Ellie begged, Y/n’s coughs sputtering in her ear, “Don’t! Don’t do it! Please, don’t do it!”

“You had your chance,” David spoke over Ellie as he raised the cleaver above his head.

In her struggle for oxygen, Y/n let out a final cry. For Ellie, for Joel, for her grand failure to save all of them.

This was how it ended.

“I’M INFECTED!”

Ellie’s words echoed off the walls, David simply scoffed at her.

“I’m infected,” Ellie said once more, her voice low, “And now so are you.”

David glanced down at the bite mark Ellie had put on his hand. Y/n caught it too, fighting the urge to smile. The girl was smarter and quicker than she or Joel had ever taught her.

“Roll up my sleeve, look at it,” Ellie insisted, “Look at it!”

Biting down on his lip in frustration, David slammed the cleaver down beside Y/n and Ellie’s heads, causing both of them to flinch away. He tugged Ellie’s right sleeve up, revealing the ever-present mark that Cordyceps had left on her.

“God’s will,” Y/n strained, smirking below Ellie.

James looked up at his leader in concern, “David…”

“No,” David shook his head, “No, she would’ve turned by now. This isn’t real.”

Unable to speak without them hearing her, but needing to signal Ellie that she was on board with the plan, Y/n squeezed the back of Ellie’s hand twice.

“It looks pretty fuckin’ real to me,” James continued.

Ellie pressed her hand back into Y/n’s.

This was their opportunity.

Ellie reached to her side, grabbing the cleaver and lodging it in Jame’s shoulder. Y/n threw the girl off and kicked both feet into David’s stomach, buying them a few precious seconds to escape. Bullets chased them as they flew through the door.

Y/n and Ellie ran through the rest of the kitchen, making it out into the dining room. They went from door to door, banging and pulling furiously. Nothing.

Hearing David’s footsteps down the hall, they rushed back into the kitchen to look for any weapons. Ellie reached into a wood burning stove, grabbing one of the crackling logs before Y/n shoved her out of the room and down behind a wall.

The kitchen door squeaked, announcing David’s presence. Without her gun, Y/n knew she didn’t stand a chance at going up against David, but she could buy time. She crawled away from Ellie, ignoring the girl’s frantic looks and moved behind a table, popping up once she heard David’s steps.

“You’re very determined,” David’s calm tone continued, even as he clutched the cleaver in his hand, “I’ll give you that.”

“What a parent won’t do for their kid,” Y/n shrugged, “Right, Father?”

As Y/n put a period on her sentence, Ellie stood up from her spot and threw the burning log at David, missing him and giving Y/n the chance to duck down and crawl away. Ellie had, however, succeeded in starting a fire that quickly began to eat through the drapes of the dining room. Ellie crawled back, spotting Y/n and hurrying in her direction.

“There’s no way out, Ellie,” David called, moving away from the rapid fire, “The doors are locked and I have the keys.”

While she couldn’t see the flames, Y/n could smell and hear them. They were spreading as if nature herself had started it.

“Ellie?” David called tauntingly, “Ellie.”

Y/n knew that if there was any chance for escape, it would only come for one of them. David would have to be preoccupied with something else to let anything slip through his fingers and that anything had to be Ellie. Reaching down into her boot, she remembered she still had her knife on her.

She drew a deep breath and begged for Joel, dead or alive, to forgive her.

It was the only option that ensured Ellie’s salvation.

————————

Joel couldn’t move fast in the snow, the winds threatening to shove his fragile frame down into the ice. With every step he fought, trying to see something, anything through the gust of snowflakes.

In his mind, he was begging and pleading with the universe to give him a sign, a direction..he felt more and more panicked with each passing moment that he was too late.

Joel walked a little quicker, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach.

He couldn’t lose them.

—————————

“Ellie…” David called again, “I know you’re not infected. No one infected fights this hard to stay alive.”

Y/n belly crawled on the floor of the restaurant, away from Ellie and closing in on David’s voice. She clutched the knife in her sweaty palm.

“So…how did you do it?” David asked the room, “What’s the secret? Or are you just that fucking special?”

Y/n was near enough to the bar that she could see the panels swing open and Ellie’s legs trailing in. She was smart enough to try and find a true weapon.

“No one likes being humiliated, Ellie,” David continued his tirade, forgetting Y/n’s presence entirely, “You don’t know how good I am! You don’t know what I could have given you! If you had just let me!”

Y/n continued her army crawl before crouching behind the wall nearest to David, waiting for her perfect chance.

“Well, I have news for you,” the “pastor’s” tone softened back to its pulpit pitch, “None of us are dying today. You see, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided you do need a father, and your mother needs a husband.”

Y/n tightened her grip on her knife, waiting, waiting, waiting…

“So I’m gonna keep you two,” David promised, “And I’m gonna teach you.”

In her years, Y/n had heard and witnessed truly disturbing events. Nothing could have terrified her more than the sick headlines about corrupt preachers, using the Word of God as a deflection, coming to life in front of her.

Y/n leapt to her feet, spininning around the wall’s end and stabbing David’s shoulder from behind. The man cried out in pain, but didn’t fall as Y/n had needed him to. He faced her, swinging the cleaver past her before gripping her throat with one hand and shoving her up against the wall. Y/n struggled ferociously, speed kicking his legs until he dropped her. He wrenched her back, throwing her to the floor, and let one of the heavy dining tables fall straight onto Y/n’s abdomen. The pressure crushed her, stealing all the air from her lungs, and left her sputtering and choking for breath.

David leaned down, his lips grazing Y/n’s ear in a way that had only ever been reserved for Joel. “I’ll deal with you in a moment,” he growled.

Y/n was too breathless to speak and the table was too heavy for her to lift. It was almost guaranteed that David had cracked at least one of her ribs. She flailed about under its weight like a bug being crushed, frantically trying to escape.

With a lack of oxygen, her ears began to ring and her eyesight began to blur. From across the room, she could see David and Ellie’s figures fighting, with Ellie’s being shoved to the floor.

Y/n’s lips tried to form the girl’s name.

The corners of her vision began to darken just as David pinned Ellie down.

Her screams poured the air right back into Y/n’s lungs.

With strength only a mother whose child was endangered could have, Y/n strained to push the table off of her. She raised it enough to shimmy her abdomen out, letting it fall on her legs with a pained groan. She pulled and pulled her body out from under the surface, Ellie’s cries of terror giving her all the power she needed to roll the rest of the way. She grabbed her knife, stained with David’s blood and crawled across the floor.

David’s back was blissfully turned.

Ellie couldn’t see Y/n.

The flames were consuming the restaurant.

Y/n inched her way closer.

David said something Y/n couldn’t hear over the fire.

Ellie screamed louder.

Y/n reached her hand out, ripping David back by the collar, stabbing him in the chest with her knife and wrenching him off of Ellie.

Ellie reached above her head for the cleaver.

The rest passed in a set of thirty blood soaked seconds.

When it was over, Y/n stumbled to her feet, reaching down to pull Ellie up with her. The room was filled with a gagging smoke, the fames mere seconds from bringing the whole building down.

Y/n rushed them out through the kitchen, the back end was their best chance at escape. Down the hall were two large black doors, the lack of lock allowing Y/n to shove her and Ellie’s trembling forms out.

The cold air greeted their heated skin, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Y/n clutched Ellie to her as she maneuvered them down the stone steps and into the snow.

They both screamed as a pair of strong arms grabbed their bodies, tugging them backwards.

“No! Get off of me!,” Ellie shrieked, the reality of David’s death ceasing to exist under the strange touch.

“No! You fucking-“ Y/n tried to shove Ellie behind her, turning around and fighting hard against the figure before she even looked up.

Adrenaline somehow granted Joel enough strength to turn Ellie around in his arms and restrain Y/n’s hands.

“It’s me,” Joel coaxed as Ellie slapped his chest.

Y/n eyes turned up at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes finally. “Ellie,” she breathed, awestruck.

“It’s me,” Joel repeated to Ellie, her hits finally stopping as she finally returned to reality. Joel took her face into his hand, cupping her cheek and drawing her gaze to him, “Hey, look…it’s me. It’s me.”

Ellie let out little whimpers as she took in his presence, miraculously in front of her.

Y/n ran her hands over Joel’s arm, in utter disbelief that he was actually there. His hand that rested on her back slid half an inch, the movement giving her the assurance that he was real. He had come for them.

“It’s okay,” Joel told Ellie, the girl mumbling and stuttering in shock.

Ellie didn’t think twice before looping her arms around Joel’s neck and burrowing her face into his shoulder. Y/n did the same, keeping one arm firmly around Ellie.

“It’s okay,” he promised once more, taking the full force of their embrace as if it were the very air he breathed. “It’s okay, babygirl,” he said to Ellie, “I got you. I got you.”

Y/n sniffled into Joel’s shoulder, feeling his hurried kiss press against her temple. She had gone from her most vulnerable to her most safe in the course of a single minute.

After a few seconds, wishing it could last longer, Joel pulled back to look at them both. He took in the blood on both their faces, there were big bruise marks on Y/n’s neck and she was clutching her stomach. He felt ashamed that he hadn’t been there sooner to spare them the pain of whatever they’d gone through.

“Okay,” Joel said softly, taking off his coat and wrapping it around Ellie’s shoulders.

Y/n finally noticed that Joel was carrying both his rifle and all three of their backpacks. She hurried to grab hers and Ellie’s, slipping one on her shoulder and carrying the other.

Joel and Y/n got on each of Ellie’s sides, wrapping an arm around the girl and setting off into the snow. The adrenaline began to fade in Joel’s body, weakening him once again till he was limping. The searing pain in Y/n’s chest ached with every breath, she had to time each inhale in between her steps.

But it didn’t matter to either of them. They locked their hands around each other’s arm, tightening their hold around Ellie, and took slow, unsteady steps towards the river.

—————————

That night, they sought shelter in a different neighborhood, hiding in someone else’s former house.

Y/n and Joel sat upright against the freezing concrete wall, Ellie sleeping soundly between them. They each kept one hand on her as they had soothed her to sleep, but they kept their hold long after. They needed the physical reassurance that she was okay.

All day, Y/n had held it together as they journeyed as far from Silver Lake as they could. She was too determined to get the three of them the hell out of dodge to fall apart. It wasn’t until Ellie had fallen asleep, under the safety of Y/n and Joel’s protection, that the weight of what had almost happened to them fell onto her.

Joel felt the trembling from Y/n’s hand gently shake Ellie’s body. He peered across her into the dark, the moonlight catching on her face to perfectly illuminate the silent tears down her cheeks.

As she stifled her sobs, Y/n felt Joel’s fingers intertwine with hers over Ellie’s torso. She squeezed her eyes shut, his touch sending her emotions right over their edge.

Joel squeezed, trying to tell her that in the silence, in the pain, he was there. He was there for the first time in twenty years for her to lean on.

Y/n squeezed back, savoring the press of his calloused fingers into her palm. They had come so close to losing one another, but they were alive. They were alive, they were together and if that was the only thing they had to hold onto, they’d cling to it like life itself.

——————

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[recurring-polynya]

I reblogged that great meta post the other day about Renji filled the role of a heart character, and then I happened to be flipping past this page, which I've probably read a million times before:

I think the takeaway from this panel is supposed to be some neat and ominous foreshadowing about Urahara's bankai. There's also sort of a recurring theme in Urahara's arc of regret that he isn't able to act directly (or perhaps that he has to send/endanger others on his behalf). Urahara-enjoyers can go run with that, if they want, because, as is my way, I will be talking only about Renji.

Bleach is a battle shounen, so of course there is a tendency to rank characters and to tally up Ws and Ls. Renji never fares well in these conversations. Orihime doesn't either, which is absolutely inane, because her primary power is *healing*, and none of the main cast would still be around if it weren't for her. It was suddenly interesting for me to read this line, and think suddenly think of Renji in the same light.

Urahara isn't the only captain who holds back using his bankai. Ukitake jumps into Kyouraku's fight with Stark because he doesn't want Kyouraku to have to go to bankai. Shinji can't use his when other people are around. Unohana went to the trouble of becoming one of the best healers in the series in order be able to fight with her bankai for more than 0.6 seconds.

On the other hand, shit starts to go down, and Hihiou Zabimaru is out, immediately. Hihiou Zabimaru is an accessible bankai, a familiar bankai. They can run down 16 Menos in a row, but they can also crash through a wall, or work as a mode of transportation, or you can even use them for a surprise attack. They are good for training and giving people strength, whether it's helping Chad learn his powers, or giving Ichigo something to beat on when he needs to work his way out of a depressive funk.

Color Bleach+ notes that Squad 6 admires Byakuya, but they like Renji. I think that's just a microcosm of a larger theme though-- in Bleach, power sets you apart, makes you remote, makes you something different from those around you. Aizen and Stark are noted to be profoundly lonely. Urahara and Kyouraku have to send people they care about to their deaths as they hold themselves back for strategic reasons. Gin and Hitsugaya poison their relationships with their favorite people because of their devotions to their own separate duties. The one-shot reveals that captains can't even go back into the resurrection cycle and have to go to Hell instead.

Renji gets pretty powerful by the end of the series. He even replaces Hihiou Zabimaru with Sou-oh Zabimaru, who is better for killing guys, but you can't hitch a ride on them. He never becomes a captain, though. The longer I've thought about this, the more I love this ending for him. He gets to marry the woman he loves and have a kid, he gets to keep running his squad with his weirdo captain/bestie, he still gets to go drinking with the other lieutenants. It's exactly parallel to Ichigo's ending, in the sense that he chooses his friends and loved ones over the pursuit of power. Like, Kubo was really not fucking around when he superimposed those images of Ichigo and Renji swearing on their souls as Renji is fighting Byakuya and decides that dying while doing his best to save Rukia was worth it, even if he never ends up surpassing Byakuya.

He doesn't die, though, he gets to live, and help out his friends and train people with his bankai and make them stronger and I think that is very fucking based of him.

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 16/? Word count: 3815 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 14. To Lead A Team

"Ugh," Matilde groaned when she got the sentence incorrect. Her eyes shot to the hearts in the top right corner of her phone; one heart left for six more exercises. She had days when the Duolingo lessons would go great, but there were more days when she was really struggling to pass one lesson. Italian was tough for her. She wanted to master it since she was one of the few people in the team who couldn't speak the language. Especially since she was the team principal. Plus, the main language to communicate in the team was Italian, so she really wanted to understand the language.

She sat in a meeting room, waiting for the team to arrive. They had a meeting about the upcoming race in Austria. If she was honest with herself, she didn't know what she could expect.

The ambience in the team had changed, once again. After Monaco, there was tension; team Charles and basically team Matilde for once. A few people agreed with Fernando Alonso during the post-race interview:

"But if your driver says that he is coming in, even when you tell him no, you still send the crew out just in case," Fernando said, defending Charles.

But most of the team, agreed with Max during the interview:

Max looked at him. "Yes, but if your team principal, not even your race engineer, but team principal, says not to pit and stay out multiple times, you stay out," he replied, defending Matilde. "If you still go in after being told no, what do you expect?"

It didn't help that Charles remained frustrated. The media picked it up during the following Grand Prix in Barcelona. Even though Matilde moved on and focussed on the next race, Charles kept showing that he felt hurt by the action. And not because it was a consequence of his own action, no, he still blamed Matilde for it. Charles showed it, and he sometimes even dared to spill a thought to the media and dodged and ignored questions about his team principal.

During the Spanish Grand Prix, Ferrari showed an almost perfect pace once again. Friday was a less perfect day, but it was the day to provide feedback and make the right adjustments. On Saturday, both the Ferrari drivers made it to Q3 during qualifying; Charles qualified as third and Carlos as second. Yet again, Max got pole.

On Sunday, during the race, Carlos had a perfect start and almost passed Max in turn one. Carlos gained time and kept following Max for a while before he passed Max and became the race leader. In the end, he won his home Grand Prix. Charles was pleased with Carlos' result, but he couldn't hide his jealousy. Charles finished third, which is a decent result, and he couldn't do more to get a better result. Despite the positive weekend, Charles threw a questioning quote in the media about Matilde and her leadership:

"Look," Charles said in the post-race interview, his frustration clear in his voice. "We had a clear opportunity to win in Monaco, and it was thrown away. I could get more out of this race, but I wasn't allowed to. I can't help but think that sometimes decisions from the top don't align with what's best for the team on the track."

Matilde had an interview herself after the race, praising the work of Carlos and of Charles; they both did everything they could do during the race and she was proud of them. She saw the fragment of Charles when she was back at the hotel and she couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had supported Charles throughout the ups and downs, and now he was publicly questioning her leadership. It stung, especially since she knew her decision in Monaco had been the correct one, and she knew the team couldn't do more for Charles during the race in Barcelona.

Back at the office, a few days after the race, the team began with fresh motivation, working on the set-up for the next Grand Prix: Canada. Everything went smoothly, the Grand Prix went well for Ferrari; P2 for Charles and P3 for Carlos. Everyone did their tasks during the weekend, but certainly not more.

It made Matilde think. Was she good enough to be a team principal? She had a driver who openly spoke about how he thinks about her, a part of the team was picking the drivers side and the board kept complaining about the way Matilde approaches things. Matilde took a deep breath, closed her Duolingo app, and prepared for the meeting that lay ahead.

The invited people of the meeting entered the room. The drivers, with their race engineers, entered the meeting as the last ones. Laurent Mekies, the race director, opened the meeting with a presentation about the team's progress, accomplishments and long-term goals. He discussed the data from their drivers' sim sessions and compared it with the data from other teams. Austria was coming up, an important race since it was a strong track for both Ferrari and Red Bull. During that Grand Prix, either could win.

Someone asked a question about the team's budget allocation, a critical issue that could determine the extent of their success. Mekies looked at Matilde, passing the question to her. She explained the rationale behind the budget distribution, the sources and expenses.

But Charles seized the opportunity to launch his attack. "With all due respect, Jørgensen," he began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've been wondering about this budget distribution. It seems to me that you're playing it safe, just like on the track. We need to take risks to win, not settle for mediocrity."

Matilde felt her heart skip a beat, she didn't expect this attack. And the way he called her out by her last name... Her lips parted and her eyebrows slightly raised, she was lost for words. "Charles, I appreciate your input, but we have a well thought-out strategy. It's based on careful analysis and ensures the team's long-term stability." She showed a smile. "I can send you the files, if you prefer to read it on paper."

He chuckled. "Stability? We don't need stability, we need victories. We need to be aggressive, go for it. We can't wait. If we wait, the opportunity has passed us."

"I agree, however, we cannot just go for it when the time isn't right," she shot back with fire. "Once again, I respect your passion for winning, but the decisions we made are not based on impulsiveness, they're grounded in data and experience. I trust the expertise of the team."

"Well," he said, leaning forward against the table as if he were about to deliver a killer blow. "It seems you're more of a manager than a leader. A real leader would listen to the voice of the driver who put his life on the line every race."

The room fell silent. The team exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how she would respond to Charles' provocation.

Finally, she spoke, her voice tinged with steel. "A real leader knows when to trust the experts and when to rely on data, not just emotions. Our decisions are calculated for the team's success, which you are also part of, and not to satisfy one individual's ego."

"Why are you taking everything personally?"

"I would like further elaboration," Matilde replied, folding her hands together, straightening her back.

Charles raised his eyebrows and looked at Carlos, blinked and looked back at Matilde. He noticed how involved Carlos' family was during the Spanish Grand Prix and how Matilde reacted to it. As a result: she got invited to a dinner with the Sainz'. Charles saw the Instagram post, apparently it was a home cooked dinner - Charles knew if Carlos invited you over for a home cooked dinner, something was going on.

"Are you referring to the dinner I attended with the Sainz family? It was in recognition of the work during the Spanish Grand Prix and as a gesture of their appreciation due to their courteous nature," Matilde replied to his facial expression and collected some files that were laying in front of her, she liked to sort them and put them neatly back on a stack.

For once, Charles seemed caught off guard. People in the room shared glances; from satisfied to impressed. Charles' expression shifted from arrogance to frustration.

"If someone has to say anything, please do. I rather want to hear it now and prevent rumours, than afterwards when I can't change a thing. I value open communication within our team, but it must be done internally and constructively. We are in this together, not alone, and it is our goal to win together." Matilde shared a look with Charles, who leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his eyes locked on her as if she were a target. Matilde didn't react to his look, but internally, she was tearing apart.

As the meeting continued, Matilde was focussed on her colleagues. She kept her cool, focussing on the facts and logic that underpinned her decisions. She also wrote some notes down for her therapist she was seeing after the meeting. She knew that being the leader of a F1 team came with immense pressure, and she had her ways of coping with it. One of those ways was speaking to a therapist to manage the stress and maintain her focus.

After the meeting came to an end, Matilde stayed in the meeting room. She booked it for some privacy, sitting in her fishbowl office was too confronting for herself and for others to see her talk to her therapist. The session was online, since her therapist lives in Denmark. She preferred to have a Danish therapist, it is easier than having a therapist in a country she didn't even speak the language of - and even though she was almost fluently in English, she still preferred to talk about herself in her mother language.

Matilde glanced at her watch, she still had ten minutes left. She decided to go to the cafeteria to grab some fruits and a snack. While she was at the cafeteria, she thought about the moment she knew she needed to see a therapist.

It actually started after Miami, after the incident, when she sat on the plane to Copenhagen with Kevin. After their conversation, Kevin messaged Lars, saying he was worried about Matilde's well-being, but that it was not up to him to say something about it. He thought it was more comfortable for Matilde to hear it from her brother than a fellow Dane who she knew, but who also happened to be friends with her brother. So when Matilde arrived at her mother's house to celebrate her mother's birthday, Lars took Matilde outside for a talk, since he also was concerned about her well-being.

"Mati, are you seeing a therapist?" Lars carefully mentioned.

They sat down on a bench next to the pond in the backyard of their mother's house.

"Why?" Matilde frowned.

He shrugged. "I think it would do you well to talk to someone," he said and looked at his younger sister; she was looking in front of her, clenching her jaw. "I have seen the tweets about the restaurant. And I know you well enough to know that you would have spent the evening with your team instead of Red Bull if there was nothing going on."

Tears filled her eyes and she sniffed. "I know," she whispered and she told him about what happened. "I'm on the waiting list, I'm working on it, but I can't make the procedure go any faster," she finished her story.

"Ferrari has therapists, right? Why are you on a waiting list at Ferrari? You are basically the most important person at Ferrari."

"I'm sure there are therapists at Ferrari, but I don't want a therapist at Ferrari, not within the team or someone who has connections to the team - even if it is externally. I called at the beginning of this season, Christian recommended it. I'm still not through it, as you see," she shrugged and dried her eyes.

Lars nodded and he hugged her. "Fair. But who did you call to still be on the waiting list after three months?"

"Alma."

"Alma? Alma, who helped us through the divorce of mum and dad?"

Matilde nodded into his chest. "I thought it would be familiar to call her. She helped us through the divorce, even though I am still convinced that the divorce did not have that much effect on us. Anyway, I want to talk about my troubles in Danish, not English or cracky Italian."

Lars nodded. "Understandable. And you know, the divorce had an effect on us, but we haven't noticed it. Alma helped us through it. Those people can see what it does to someone, and even when it does nothing." He grabbed his phone. "Is it for work or personal?"

"Work," she mumbled. "What are you doing?"

Her brother raised his phone to his ear and ignored the question. A polite smile came on his face. "Hello, this is Galileo, Matilde Jørgensen's assistant. Yes, hello."

Matilde straightened her face and she slapped him on his arm.

He pushed her away and raised his finger to silence her. "I'm calling to ask for an update on the waiting list." He listened. "Yes, I am fully aware that this is confidential, but it is urgent." He nodded. "I know, but we have to plan the sessions. Do you know who she is? She is the team principal of Scuderia Ferrari in Formula 1. I don't know if you know Ferrari, but it is a circus and she desperately needs someone to talk to because it's causing mental health problems." He was silent again. "Matilde instructed for work only, but it will be a better plan to do work and personal. Yes. I will give you to her. Thank you. Yes. Have a nice day." Lars gave his phone to his sister. "Make your appointments ASAP," he said.

And since Miami, she didn't see just one therapist, but two therapists; one for work and one for her personal state. Every three weeks she would see Alma to talk about her personal life, and every week she would see Otto to talk about her work. And she had to admit, she was glad her brother pushed through. She couldn't imagine how it would be if still didn't have someone to talk to. It was a sense of relief and she had the feeling she could continue her adventure more easily, the balance came back in her life.

Today she had to see Alma, and it was the perfect timing, almost like it was planned this way. After a visit at the cafeteria, Matilde came back with hot tea, an orange and a nut bar. She took a deep breath and entered the scheduled Teams call.

When Alma popped up on her screen, she felt a sense of comfort over her.

"God eftermiddag, Matilde," Alma greeted Matilde with a kind smile.

A smile came on Matilde's face. "Hej."

"Hvordan har du det?" Alma asked, curious to know how her client was doing.

Matilde leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her tea. "I'm fine," she replied and nodded. "It's been a busy week, a busy couple of weeks, actually."

"How do you feel about having a second session? What were your thoughts after the first session?"

"It's much needed," Matilde replied. "I feel like it helped, even though it was just the first time."

"Can you describe your feelings about it?"

Matilde looked away, she looked at the wall next to her. "A sense of relief, I think. Uhm..." She looked back at the laptop screen. "I'm aware of the job I have, but it also requires a lot of effort and energy, and it feels good to talk about it, to find ways to manage everything. Uhm... Also to explore my personal challenges, I guess."

The therapist wrote something down and nodded once again. "That is good to hear. From what I can remember from when you were younger, a young girl, you also had a sense of realism and soberness. I can hear it in your way of thinking now as well," she warmly smiled. "But how have you been feeling lately?"

They talked about Matilde's personal life, discussing her family, friends, other relationships, her emotions in work and the different emotions that had surfaced in the past three weeks. Alma listened and provided guidance and support, helping Matilde navigate her feelings and come to a deepening understanding of herself.

"I know you talk with Otto about your work," Alma began. "But what are your feelings towards your position now? Last time you mentioned you were still figuring out what your thoughts are on your position. What are your thoughts today?"

Matilde played with the red wristband and twirled it around her wrist. "There are days where I feel like I am on the top of my game," she mentioned, her voice wavering slightly as she struggled to find the right words. "But sometimes I'm thinking about quitting."

"Why?"

Tears welled up in Matilde's eyes, and she blinked them back, her emotions getting the better of her. Alma was a safe space, but Matilde was still at the office. She was afraid someone would walk in and see her cry, a sign of weakness. But in this moment of vulnerability, she felt a flood of pent-up emotions rushing to the surface. "I want to be the best team principal I can be to the team," she continued, her voice quivering with emotion.

"You say 'the' team, why not 'my' team?" Alma observed.

"It isn't my team, it doesn't feel like my team," Matilde whispered and looked away from the laptop. She sniffed. "I joined an existing team, I became part of the team, but it doesn't feel like my team." It was silent, Alma gave Matilde time to think. "I sometimes just wonder if I'm cut out for this role."

Alma nodded, her warm and understanding presence a source of comfort. "It's completely natural to have doubts and moments of vulnerability, Matilde. Your role is incredibly demanding, and it's okay to acknowledge the pressure you're under."

Matilde wiped away a tear that had escaped, her emotions now more visible than ever. "I just don't want to let anyone down," she confessed. "I don't know if I can do it. I feel like I am flogging a dead horse." She looked at Alma again. "Quite literally and figurally." Matilde dried her eyes. "I have to lead a team who didn't welcome me at first, I have people who work against me and I feel like they would rather have me fired yesterday than today. But I have a deal, it's also my contract, but I have a deal with myself: if it doesn't work by the end of the season, I will quit and just... I don't know, go away from F1."

Alma nodded once again. "Why do you want to do this? Why don't quit today?" she scanned Matilde's face. "I don't want you to quit, but what if you have the option to quit today without any problem. Why don't you quit?"

"Because I want to win."

"You can also win at your previous job you loved. Or you can win life by doing something you love to do. So why Ferrari?"

"I want to make them win, because I thought I could take the challenge. I've seen three people fail, if I can call it like that, and I was convinced I could do it," Matilde said. She snorted and shook her head. "I am such a clown for even trying to think about it."

"Let's start on the clown part, Matilde. You are not a clown for trying; you're courageous for pursuing your passion to a further level. But there is a part of you that wants it and knows that you can do it. Why do you think that? Why do you want to do this?"

Matilde took a deep, shuddering breath, her emotions still raw and exposed. The tears in her eyes kept flowing over her cheeks, she couldn't help it. "To show everyone that I can do it."

"Do what?"

Matilde looked down and the tears rolled over her cheeks. "This." She paused, her voice trembling with the weight of those expectations. "Leading a team, make it a winning team."

"Why?"

"Because I was told I wouldn't make it in life when I was younger." She blinked, making her vision clear.

"Like?"

"I wasn't smart, but I also wasn't dumb," she mumbled. "I didn't fit anywhere. And when I found something I liked, teacher's advised me to not even start with it." She wiped away the tears from her cheeks. "And when I finally did something I liked, something I found my passion in, I was told that I could not find or get a job in motorsport. And when I got a job in motorsport, I was told that I wouldn't succeed and that I wouldn't last longer than a year. And when I got this job, I was told that I would fail. A woman wasn't supposed to lead a Formula 1 team, especially a top team like Ferrari. I want to show everyone that I can lead Ferrari to a victory, to winning a world championship, that I can succeed in a world that has been dominated by men for so long. I believe in this team, I believe in Charles and Carlos-"

The door of the meeting room flew open. Charles stepped into the room, not expecting anyone. A light shock went through his body when he noticed someone sitting at the head of the table; his team principal was still sitting at the same spot as an hour ago. His face fell when he saw Matilde crying, quickly wiping away the tears and clearing her throat. "Oh, eh, sorry," he mumbled. His eyes scanned the table, where he found his pass. "I didn't know you were here. I forgot my pass," he said and pointed at his pass.

"You can grab it," Matilde neutrally said.

Charles hesitated momentarily, seemingly unsure whether he should get it or leave and pick it up later, since she was upset and he interrupted her. The atmosphere in the room felt tense and awkward. After a brief internal struggle, he decided to get his pass. He heard Matilde say something in an unfamiliar language to her laptop, Charles didn't recognise the language, but it had to be Danish. Someone talked back to her, she was in an online meeting or something. "Thanks," he mumbled, grabbing the pass from the table and making a swift exit from the room. The door closed behind him, and he walked back to the engineer's area.

"Found it?" Xavi asked, grabbing his stuff.

Charles nodded and showed his pass. "Ready to go."

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc

[rootedinrevisions]

Masterlist: Twisters

Welcome to my collection of stories inspired by Twisters! Right now, the focus is on Tyler Owens, one of the main characters who’s brought to life in ways that explore his depth, relationships, and adventures beyond the screen.

As this section grows, you might see stories featuring other characters like Scott Miller and Javi Rivera—so stay tuned! Whether you're here for Tyler or curious about future tales, I hope you enjoy these stormy stories. 🌪️

TYLER OWENS (TWISTERS)

**ONE-SHOTS**

Painted Him Perfect (Tyler x Reader)

Inspired by Alexandra Kay’s song "Painted Him Perfect." Tyler and his soon-to-be ex-wife grapple with the stark reality of their crumbling marriage as she makes her way to Oklahoma to finalize their divorce. Despite the façade of a perfect relationship portrayed to their fans, her heartfelt video revealing their separation exposes the cracks hidden beneath the surface. ANGST.

I'm Comin' Over (Tyler x OC)

Ashley is sitting at home one night, staring at her phone. She knows she shouldn't call him. She knows it's a bad idea. But she can't resist and gives in. She sends Tyler a late-night text, and his response is immediate. Tyler arrives at her place and the two try to work out the issues in the relationship. SMUT.

Begin Again (Tyler x Reader)

Based on the song Begin Again by Taylor Swift. Just Tyler being a southern gentleman on a blind date to a girl who had written off love after her last relationship. FLUFF.

Drunk Girl (Tyler x Reader)

Based on the song Drunk Girl by Chris Janson. You and your boyfriend break up, and you go out for a couple of drinks to try and not feel anything. You start the night out with friends planning on just having a couple, but by the end of the night, you've had a few too many. Your friends call Tyler, and he steps in, making sure you get home safe. He takes you back to your place, gets you to bed, and then leaves. ANGST. FLUFF.

**SERIES**

Twisted Fate (Tyler x OC)

In the aftermath of a devastating tornado that ravages her hometown, Lexi finds herself trapped in the rubble of her destroyed home. Years ago, she and Tyler Owens were inseparable until he went down a path of storm chasing and YouTube fame. Now, as fate would have it, Tyler is chasing the very tornado that has torn through her town. Miraculously, amidst the chaos, Lexi manages to call out for help, and to her disbelief, Tyler hears her cries. Risking his own safety, he navigates the debris to reach her, pulling her to safety just in time. In the moments of relief and gratitude that follow, old feelings resurface, reminding her of what they once shared.

PART 1 I Part 2 I PART 3

Chasing Us (Tyler x OC)

When Hannah needs a date to her sister's wedding, she turns to one of her best friends and fellow storm chasers, Tyler, for help. What starts as a simple favor quickly turns complicated as the lines between pretense and reality blur. With the backdrop of a beautiful seaside wedding, Hannah and Tyler navigate their growing feelings for each other, facing moments of heartache, unexpected confessions, and the realization that they might be more than just friends after all.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6 I PART 7 I

PART 8 I PART 9 I PART 10 I PART 11

One of Them Girls (Tyler x Reader)

After a long day of Tornado chasing, Tyler Owens and his crew head to a local bar to unwind. At the end of the bar sits a woman who sparks Tyler's interest. Despite her initial reluctance, Tyler's persistence leads to a playful evening of banter, pool games, and dancing. As the night progresses, the barriers between them begin to fall and begins the start of something beautiful.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6

PART 7 I PART 8 I PART 9 I PART 10 I PART 11 I PART 12

PART 13 I PART 14 I PART 15 I PART 16

Enough for You (Tyler x Reader)

After months of chasing storms and harboring unspoken feelings, the moment of truth finally arrives. When Tyler returns to the team with someone new by his side, it shatters the hope you secretly held onto. In the aftermath of his abandonment, you're left grappling with heartache, wondering why you were never enough for him. As Tyler tries to make amends for leaving, the conversation takes a painful turn when he confronts the feelings he never knew existed. But some apologies can't fix what’s been broken, and all you want is to go back to the way things were—before you let him into your heart.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5

Never Left Me (Tyler x OC)

Lauren is working at the law office she shares with her fianc��, Jonathan, when she receives the heartbreaking call from her father about her mother’s passing. Overcome with grief, Lauren struggles to process the loss, and Jonathan is by her side, offering unwavering support as she begins to prepare for the trip back to Arkansas. As she packs, Jonathan notices her unease, suspecting that something beyond her mother’s death is weighing on her. The tension between them grows when he gently pushes her to open up about why she’s avoided returning home for so long, but Lauren remains vague, unable to reveal the real reason: her unresolved past with Tyler. The car ride to Arkansas is heavy with silence, broken only by Jonathan’s attempts at conversation, but Lauren’s thoughts are far away. When they finally arrive at her childhood farmhouse, Lauren is hit with the weight of both her loss and the past she’s been running from for eight years.

PROLOGUE I PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4

[justforbooks]

Françoise Hardy

Icon of 60s music who sang of love as a source of ‘wretched, profound, endless questioning’

Françoise Hardy, who has died of cancer aged 80, shot to fame as part of France’s génération yé-yé, the jaunty transatlantic and cross-channel collision between French chanson and American rock’n’roll that also produced Johnny Hallyday and France Gall. But from the start, there was something that set her apart: a wistfulness, a sentimental self-reflection, a poise that belied a lifelong shyness and insecurity. A 60s icon, as big, for a while, in London as in Paris, Hardy was, in many ways, the antithesis of that restive, revolutionary decade.

Unlike her contemporaries, when she sang of love it was about “suffering and frustration, illusion and disillusion; wretched, profound, endless questioning”. Her songs, she told Le Monde, were a necessary outlet: “I wrote about my experience … A beautiful, melancholic melody is what best transcends the pain.”

Men fell, in droves, for her timid beauty. Mick Jagger described Hardy as his “ideal woman”. David Bowie, “passionately in love” for years, courted her backstage, in dressing gown and embroidered slippers. In 1964, the sleeve notes of Another Side of Bob Dylan featured a whole poem “for françoise hardy/at the seine’s edge”. (Two years later, after a concert at the Olympia music hall in Paris, Dylan invited the singer to a party in his suite at the George V, one of the capital’s grandest hotels. In his bedroom, he played her two tracks from Blonde on Blonde: Just Like a Woman and I Want You. Hardy always insisted she was so starstruck she never got the message.)

But the love of Hardy’s life, the father of her son and the agonising inspiration for many of her songs, was the French singer and actor Jacques Dutronc, whom she met in 1967 and married in 1981. The couple separated in the 90s, but never divorced, remaining on good terms. “Love is a remarkable force, even if its price is perpetual torment,” she said. “But without that torment, I would not have written a single lyric.”

Hardy was born in Nazi-occupied Paris, in the same maternity clinic at the top of the rue des Martyrs in the ninth arrondissement that had delivered Hallyday a few months earlier. Her mother was Madeleine Hardy, an accountant, and her father, Pierre Dillard, was a company director who was married to another woman. Françoise grew up in a two-room apartment nearby with her sister, Michèle, born 18 months later, and a solitary mother with whom Françoise had a “fusional, symbiotic relationship … I loved her probably too much – exclusively, unconditionally”. The girls rarely saw their father, who often neglected to pay his share of their upkeep and was regularly late with the modest fees for their Catholic education.

Weekends were spent with grandparents – notably an “egocentric, narrow-minded, frigid and emasculating” grandmother – outside Paris; many childhood holidays with friends of her mother’s in Austria, to learn German. Shy, dreamy, deeply ashamed of her unconventional family, Hardy turned to the radio, where in the late 50s, on the English service of Radio Luxembourg, she encountered a music – Presley, the Everly Brothers, Brenda Lee, Cliff Richard – that “affected me more than anything else. That ended up changing my life.”

Aged 16, she asked for a guitar for passing the first part of her baccalauréat. A year later, having passed the second part with honours, she taught herself a handful of chords “that produced most of my songs over the next 10 years”, and began writing. At the Sorbonne, studying German, she auditioned, unsuccessfully but not disastrously, for one record company, and started singing lessons.

Hardy’s contract with Vogue Records – who wanted ��a female Johnny Hallyday” – was signed on 14 November 1961. She made her first TV appearance, in black and white on the state broadcaster’s only channel, six months later, and released her debut EP, featuring three songs of her own and a cover of a Bobby Lee Trammell song.

Her breakthrough came, rather incongruously, on the night of Charles de Gaulle’s October 1962 referendum asking voters whether France’s future presidents should be directly elected. In a musical interlude while the nation awaited the result, Hardy performed a track from her EP, Tous les garçons et les filles. The nation loved it. The song (sample line: “I walk down the streets, my soul in sorrow”) became a monumental hit in France, spending a total of 15 weeks at No 1 between October 1962 and April 1963 and becoming a million-seller. Within weeks Hardy was on the cover of Paris Match, plunged, still in her teens, into the whirlwind of the swinging 60s (which she detested: she disapproved of casual sex, avoided drugs, and could only ever remember being drunk twice).

Her first boyfriend, the photographer Jean-Marie Périer, ensured her picture – miniskirt, white boots, long hair, signature fringe – went around the world. Courrèges, Yves Saint Laurent and Paco Rabanne competed to dress her, for seasons at the Olympia in Paris, the Savoy in London, and shows in Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, Denmark, Spain, Canada and South Africa. In New York, William Klein photographed her for Vogue. Roger Vadim, Jean-Luc Godard and John Frankenheimer cast her in films.

The hits flowed, recorded – some in London, produced by Charles Blackwell – in French, English, German, Italian, some written by Hardy, others not.

But at the end of the 60s, barely five years after she began, Hardy abruptly gave up performing live, and the cinema. “I hated what it all involved,” she explained. “Being separated from the man I loved, the waiting, the solitude, depending on the phone. And I’ve never been able to act. I can’t simulate, or lie. Songwriting, on the other hand … dives deep.” Life in the fast lane, she declared, was “a gilded prison”.

But she continued recording, releasing a dozen bestselling albums in France, of which she always cited La Question (1971), a sophisticated collaboration with the Brazilian musician Tuca, as her favourite. She duetted with French artists Henri Salvador, Alain Souchon and Benjamin Biolay, and later with Damon Albarn and Iggy Pop.

Hardy was never very interested in politics (she decamped to Corsica with Dutronc for the duration of les événements of May 1968, whose student leaders she distrusted), although she had strong opinions about questions such as abortion. Hardy was, however, fascinated by astrology, writing two books on the subject.

She continued to work in later life, despite claiming that her 1988 album, Décalages, would be her last. A string of new recordings in the 1990s and 2000s, a 2008 autobiography, Le Désespoir des Singes (the title apparently derived from a monkey puzzle tree in the Bagatelle gardens near her Paris flat, because its sharp, spiky leaves reminded her of “men who have caused me despair”), and her last album, Personne d’autre, released in 2018, appeared despite family and personal tragedies: Hardy was at her mother’s side when, suffering from Charcot–Marie–Tooth disease, she died by euthanasia in 1994.

Hardy herself was diagnosed in 2004 with lymphoma, eventually recovering after an experimental form of chemotherapy – but only after she had been hospitalised, in an induced coma, in 2015. Three years later, another tumour was detected, this time in her ear. In 2021, she told the magazine Femme Actuelle (by email; she said she could no longer talk) that she would like to be able to choose to end her life, as her mother had done, and in 2023, in an interview with Paris Match, called on Emmanuel Macron, the French president, to legalise assisted dying.

Shortly before that second diagnosis, in 2018, Hardy reflected on a career that had brought pretty much every award French music can offer (plus a medal from the Académie Française), telling the Observer she had always been surprised that people – “even very good musicians” – had been moved by her voice.

“I know its limitations, I always have,” she said. “But I have chosen carefully. What a person sings is an expression of what they are. Luckily for me, the most beautiful songs are not happy songs. The songs we remember are the sad, romantic songs.”

She is survived by Dutronc, and by their son, Thomas.

🔔 Françoise Madeleine Hardy, singer, born 17 January 1944; died 11 June 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

A Perfectly Normal Schoolgirl: The Full Story

(8.6k words in total)

I hefted the broom and smacked it into my palm. Letting my feet slide into their position, I grinned at my opponent. The crowd, all secondary school students in their ironed white blouses, began clapping with bloodthirsty delight. I had not a shred of fear in my veins, nor anxiety. Sure, he was a good head taller than me and hellishly well-built, but one of us had done martial arts her whole life, and it was not him.

He gave me a single nod, then charged. With a quick sidestep, I tapped him on the shoulder. The butt of my broom jabbed itself firmly into his left thigh, and before he could grab me, I sweeped him right onto the floor, stopping only to catch him before he broke his nose on the classroom floor.

“In the name of the damn angels,” Dane said, as I let him down slowly. “What the hell? You didn't even give me a shot!”

I shrugged. “It's the nature of the beast. You might've struck first, and that's generally a good thing, but you have to have an idea of what you're going to do whence you strike. You're a man, not an elephant stampeding me. Also, work on your breakfalls. If I hadn't caught you there, you'd end up with a broken nose,” I snapped, in my best imitation of a drill sergeant.

Dane brushed himself off and nodded to himself. “Makes sense. I mean, you're-” I pressed my finger to his lips, and gave a meaningful glance at the camera. Nobody was any the wiser, of course. They all thought this was us being a ‘couple’. It was generally a useful fiction, save for that time Dane thought to ask me out on a date.

As the bell rang, warning us of the end of recess, we stored our brooms aside. The class returned to their seats, all sign of our brief fight club vanished.

Mrs Cheng stalked into the room not long after Dane had cleared the last of the dust off of his clothes. Her glasses were smudged, I noted with grim satisfaction. So she'd encountered my little surprise. It was an effort to not expose myself by laughing at her. She pressed her hands to her hips and surveyed us. “Open your workbooks and flip to page 43. Do exercises 5 to 16, but skip question 8 part 2,” she snapped, without so much as a greeting. I'd gotten under her skin, then.

Whilst I idly scribbled down equations on my notes, she strode down the rows between our little tables, narrowing her eyes at us. To the unpractised observer, she was checking our work, like a perfectly normal teacher. She and I knew the truth, however. I scratched out a line of work as her shadow loomed over me.

“Katherine,” she hissed, resting a callused palm on my table. “Pray tell: Why did you move the x² to the left?”

I looked up and fluttered my eyelashes at her. Oh, she knew, alright. She and I both knew the truth. “Perhaps it is because the square needs to be separated from its fellows before we can… remove it from the equation. Don't you agree?” 

Her eyes widened infinitesimally, then narrowed. “I suppose so. But you could say the same of the cube, could you not?” She leaned in and grinned, showing teeth that were just a bit too long in the canines. "Be a bit more careful, won't you? Sometimes a little number in the wrong corner can tip the scales entirely."

I laughed politely. "Oh, Mrs C., don't mix your metaphors. It's not very teacherly, is it?"

The retort made her hiss. "Watch your tongue, little Katherine. Don't you know what happened to the overly-curious cat?"

"Oh, yes," I agreed. "I know all about the cat. Especially what happens when it's out of the bag. Now, don'tcha need to go check on the other students? You can't be thought of as having favourites, after all."

The glint in her eyes warned me that I would pay for the point I'd scored, but I didn't mind. I stuck out my tongue at her as she walked off, and giggled to myself. Yes, I knew all about the cat, I thought.

Curiosity might've killed it, but satisfaction would bring it back. And by the time our little spat ended, I would have all the satisfaction I needed for a million resurrections.

I listened to the rest of the class with a single ear, so busy with plotting our next move was I. Mrs Cheng was going to want to take revenge for my little ploy, and that meant I had to keep on my toes. Things were going to get significantly more dangerous.

Dane, fool boy that he was, had taken it upon himself to become the teacher's pet, a deadly thing to do when the teacher in question was Mrs C. I suppose he was seeking her motherly affections, like a mewling kitten. All through the day, I cursed him as I watched him present neatly written equations to Mrs Cheng with glee. It was a small mercy that she had no knowledge of our relationship, for my sanity and for his safety, and suspected nothing of him.

As the bell rang and we were released, I shot her a mocking bow and strolled out the door. Soon as I was out of sight, I grabbed Dane's elbow and sunk my nails into his soft flesh. “You idiot,” I hissed in his ear.

His wide prey-eyes met my narrowed ones. “What did I do? Training today wasn't that bad, was it?” When my glare did not let up, he batted at my hand. “Kat, let go, please. I don't know why you're so pissed with me, but you're going to draw blood! So unless you want my pa- I mean, everyone to have some very awkward questions, you have to stop.”

I glanced down at my hand, with its too-long fingers and too-sharp nails. “Tch,” I said. “You nearly got yourself killed with your antics just now. And all the not-terrible training in the world isn't going to be enough when you end up going toe to toe with C.”

“C? You mean Mrs Cheng? Wait…” Realisation dawned on his broad features. “Oh shit. You gotta be kidding me, right? It's her?”

I barked a laugh at that. “Yes, Dane. It's her. Her and about a quarter of the school faculty. So think twice before you draw any more attention to yourself, understand? You're not nearly ready enough to fight one of them.” 

The glimmer of anger in his eyes dulled to regret. Biting his lip, Dane nodded. “I'm sorry, Kat. I should've thought things through more. Can I get you an ice cream to make it up to you?”

His inanity brought a smile to my face. “Don't apologise to me, silly. I'm not the one who's in danger. But yes, I would love to have an ice cream. Shall we try the gelato place that just opened up?”

“You're going to drive me broke, Kat. These cafes are overpriced, you know. The convenience stores work just fine,” he whined, pulling out his wallet and making a show of its emptiness.

I tapped him on the nose, and replied, “When you've lived a life like mine, you learn to appreciate the finer things in life, little Dane.” Besides, I thought grimly, I had upset the things running the convenience stores a tad too much to be comfortable eating something from there.

We walked, hand in hand, down the noon-burning street, and I could not help but revel in the heat. Truly, global warming was doing me a favour. Dane did not share my views, sadly. He leaked rivulets of sweat, fanning himself with a piece of paper and he strolled next to me.

It appeared we were not the only ones to crave icy relief, for the cafe was brimming with people munching on artisanal gelatos and sipping iced tea. There was only one person at the counter, a gorgeous woman with hair that fell in auburn waves and overalls that proclaimed her to be an employee. I slipped through the doors and pulled Dane behind me. Without them ever quite noticing, the customers parted around me, and I snuck my way into the front of the queue.

Without turning around, the woman manning the counter chirped, “Hello and welcome to Jelly's Gelatos! How can I help you today?”

I put on my best smile. “Oh, I'd like two scoops of chocolate gelato, please! In a cone. And two scoops of… Matcha, wasn't it? Also in a cone,” I said, winking at Dane as I did so. Matcha was his favourite flavour, and it had always delighted him when I remembered that, so I made the effort to. Indeed, he brightened up when I made his order correctly, and squeezed my hand appreciatively.

Smoothly, the woman scooped out our order. “You two make a cute couple,” she said as she did so. “I didn't know you liked little boys, Katherine.” My uniform had no name tag on it, and neither did anything I carried.

Ah, shit.

I tensed up, sliding into a fighting stance. “How the hell do you know my name?” A protective hand on Dane's shoulder, I leaned in to peer closer at her.

She looked up and tilted her head to the side. Eyes like burnished copper met mine, her pupils just a tad too elongated to be normal. Her hair was down, but I had a suspicion that it hid pointy ears. “Don't you recognise me, Katherine? I'm disappointed,” she purred. 

That voice was familiar, and not in a good way. I'd met her kinden before, men and women too beautiful to be purely mortal, the children of unholy unions. They were never up to any good. “You should be,” I replied, baring my teeth at her. “Don't expect me to remember the name of every random person I come across.”

The insult stung, as it was meant to, and she thrust my order under my nose. I took my chocolate and handed the matcha to Dane, who accepted it cautiously. “You think you're so high and mighty, Katherine? You've made too many enemies, and it's only a matter of time before one of us gets you,” she snarled, her pearly white teeth stark against blood-red gums.

I rolled my eyes in my best approximation of a rebellious teenager. “Sure, like, whatever. I'm so frightened by random minimum wage workers,” I jeered. “C'mon, don't expect me to quiver in my boots at you. You're only scary to the children of helicopter parents who point at you as an example of what happens when you fail your exams.”

“You bitch,” she hissed.

“So close, but no cigar, sweetie,” I replied. “And I don't think that's the proper way to treat your customers, is it? No tips for you.” Picking up a handful of change from my pocket, I dumped it onto the counter. “Toodles!”

On that cheerful note, I pushed my way back out into the sunny sidewalk. Dane followed like a lost puppy, looking increasingly concerned. “What was that about? That woman looked like she was gonna kill you!”

I shrugged. “Get used to it, kiddo. Everyone wants me dead. And when they find out about you? Well, you can bet they'll want the same for you.”

Dane sulked the whole way home, eyes downcast, feet dragging. His gelato melted in his hands, long after I had finished mine, and I watched him in awkward silence. It did neither of us any good to push him, I had realised. Dane would open up to me when Dane wished to do so.

His hand engulfed mine, a steady pressure against my palm. “Katherine,” he said finally, whence we approached his family home, “Are we in danger?”

My initial instinct was to laugh at his innocence, but the look on his face stopped me. There was a quiet fear beneath his skin, on his crumpled brows and tense body, a fear that belied his youth. I sighed and rested my head against his arm, stroking him like I would a kitten. “It will be alright,” I told him, in tones softer than I was used to. “Whilst I am around, they won't lay a finger on you.”

Dane bit his lip and unlocked the door. “Come in,” he told me absentmindedly, and I followed him into his home. “It's just…” He looked away, hunched ever so slightly into himself.

“You're frightened,” I finished for him, and smoothed a lock of his hair back. 

“No!” He yanked himself away from me. “I'm not scared, alright? Just- You know-” He stuttered and trailed off again. 

Young men and their insecurity, always needing to seem strong and brave. “Denying your emotions isn't gonna help anyone,” I told him flatly. “And if you weren't scared, you're more of a fool than I'd thought.”

Dane looked away. “There’s so many of them and only two of us,” he whispered, slumping onto the couch. “How can we fight them all? And…” The last of his words were swallowed in a sigh.

I settled next to him, smiling slightly. “We all die someday,” I offered. “And the worst they can do to you is kill you.”

He shot me a glare. “That's not helpful!”

With a shrug, I threw my hand around his shoulder. He was always so warm, like resting on the stones of the riverbank beneath the sun. “But it is, Dane. Don't fear Death. I’ve met him before, and he's a rather decent lad. Just like you,” I told him, squishing his cheeks. “Besides, I've been telling you about the dangers this whole time. Why fret now?”

“I'd never seen someone… Like that, you know? She wasn't human, and she knew you. Besides, she had those vibes! It was like she was a cryptid or something,” he told me, eyes wide with passion. “Was she the same as what… You know- The thing that took my parents?”

“I doubt it,” I replied, pursing my lips at the reminder of why we were both here. “But she is something close enough to it. You were lucky she didn't notice you, you know? You're doing a damn good job at keeping up appearances, kiddo.” A better job than me, I thought bitterly. So much for being a perfectly normal schoolgirl.

Dane beamed at the praise. “I was practising every day, just like you told me to!” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “Wait- Does that mean I passed the test?”

I considered it. He'd done well, that was for sure. I'd seen precious few youths who picked up subtlety and discretion quite as fast as him. Nonetheless, he was lacking in all other areas. His discipline faltered at every corner. He was atrocious at fighting. There was not a scrap of wisdom hammered into his brain.

Mrs C.'s ominous grin loomed in the back of my mind. With my and Dane's association, it would only be a matter of time before she picked him as her next target. When that time came, I would hardly be in a position to protect him, without shedding what precious little cover I still maintained. Besides, I had certain suspicions about her, ones that I wanted to get to the bottom of.

“It will be difficult,” I warned him. “And it will hurt.”

With all the panache of innocence, he jerked his head up and down. “I know,” he told me. “And I'll do it! Come on, you said I did well, didn't I?”

Damn that guileless faith on his face. I did not deserve it, did not deserve to hold this boy's fate in my hands, did not deserve his trust and affection. And I could not accept his blood on my skin, were he not ready for the attack that would eventually come. 

“Alright,” I said softly. “Get ready. We'll do this at midnight.”

***

“I'm a fool for doing this, aren't I?” Dane didn't look up from where he sat, cross legged on the ground. His shirt was opened to reveal the runes I'd scrawled on his chest and throat.

I drew the circle around him wordlessly. Nothing I said would help him now. The candles were lit, casting the otherwise dark room in flickering shadow and light, darkness dancing just outside our pentacle. The ointment was smeared across his face, glistening like his soul leaked through his pores. The stage was set, and it was time for him to dance.

Stepping back from my handiwork, I glanced at the clock. Right on cue, it struck twelve. “Was something supposed to happen?” Dane tried to crane his neck to look at the clock. 

Worried as I was, it brought a smile to my face. I snapped my fingers and watched as his joints locked up, body going ramrod straight. This was something I'd seen dozens of times before. Sometimes they made it out alive. Sometimes they didn't. Either way, it was up to him now. Some battles could only be fought by a single person. I settled in an armchair and pulled a book out from his bookshelf.

It wasn't long before someone showed up. A man, resplendent in a golden top hat and cloak. He knocked on the door seven times. I ignored him. “Katherine,” he said, voice clear as bells, “I know you're in there.”

Of course. Of course he showed up now, at the worst possible time. With a sigh, I hauled myself up from my armchair and swung the door open. “L,” I hissed. “You're not welcome in.”

L laughed. “Goodness, Kat. You'd think I was trying to st-” I pressed my finger to his lips, reaching past the boundary of the door as I did so.

“There's a security camera nearby,” I warned him. “Be wary.”

“A camera! And you still went through with that thing? Are you trying to get yourself caught again?” L folded his arms against his chest. “Fine. Won't you at least invite me inside, so I don't have to discuss matters with you next to a deathtrap?”

“It's not my home to invite you into. And its owners are currently indisposed.”

L peered into the house. “A boy,” he remarked. “You have gone soft, haven't you? Since when did you do that for mere mo- children?”

I shrugged. “I owe him one. Why are you here?”

“Come on, Kat! You know damn well why. You've been hiding out in the middle of nowhere, pretending to be some dingy little student, and letting yourself get pushed around by lesser beings. The others are mad at you, but they're not that mad. They'll forgive you if you come back.”

He just didn't get it, I thought grimly. Then again, none of them ever did. “L, do you know why I chose to stay here?”

“Will you stop deflecting? I'm telling you: Come back!”

Ignoring him, I continued, “It's warm here. The humans are nice. They have these things called gelatos, and it tastes like nothing else I've known.”

There was a dangerous look in L's eyes. I had grown familiar with it, being the sort of person who tended to inspire mind-numbing rage in others. “Seriously, Kat! Stop it. My place is warm enough for you, and humans are nice wherever you go, and we can bloody well get gelatos at home!” He tried to grab my wrist, but I pulled it back through the doorway, into the boundaries of Dane's home.

“The best thing about this place, though? The cameras. It's a surveillance state. Nobody tries anything here. Nobody dares to. Not even you.” I moved to close the door in his face, then paused. “Go home, L. I won't.”

There was heartbreak mixed in with the anger on his face. I didn't want to look at it anymore, so I shut the door. But L had to have the last word, as he always did.

“He'll die, you know. They all do.”

Then I was alone with Dane. He twitched, raw terror etched onto his features. The poor boy was walking through a living nightmare, and I could not help him. If he died… I did not want to think of that. I had watched more than my fair share of dying children, and it would attract Death. I had no wish to meet him ever again, kind though he was.

The book held no respite for me, and pacing the room did me not good. I settled just outside his circle and stared into his unseeing eyes. He moved again, desperately trying to break free. There were tears streaming down his cheeks.

Was it worth it? I had known those who said yes. The ones who didn't make it out had no chance to disagree. His suffering would make him stronger, the theory went. The rules said merely not to break the circle while he tried to break free. The faith he'd held in me, that I would protect him, compelled me to disobey.

Flopping onto the floor, I let out another heavy sigh. What the hell… I'd broken enough rules already. What was one more? 

With one finger, I smudged the circle.

Dane came free with a shriek, shaking off a layer of not-quite-dust. Before he could fall over and break the circle entirely, I caught the air around him, twisted it, and pulled it back. He toppled over in his panic, and landed squarely beside me. “What the hell?!”

I smiled at him and pulled him into a hug. “You looked like you were in pain,” I admitted. “So I broke you out.”

“But what about the boon? I need it… Don't I?” Dane frowned down at me. “How else will I be strong enough?”

Silly boy. Silly me, too, to risk so much for him. “You did receive the boon,” I told him, beaming. “I caught it before it could leave.” Presenting the glittering air trapped between my fingers, I revelled in his surprise.

“I thought you said the rules forbade outside help?” Dane took the air from me nonetheless, cupping it to his chest. He sat up, and I followed, the two of us facing each other.

“I break rules for fun, kiddo,” I said with levity I did not feel. “Don't worry about me. Besides, I promised to help you out, didn't I? Can't have you dying on me before I grant your wish.” Man, was I dancing on the line today. One wrong move and we were all doomed. It gave me a thrill like no other.

“You're right,” Dane said. “So what's our next move?”

I laughed. “We strike first, and hard,” I told him. “Mrs C and her little friends won't know what hit them!” And more to the point— Neither would the cameras. This was my one chance to get my satisfaction, before she managed to catch me in her web.

Dane nodded. “So we meet at school early? Say, 6am?”

I considered it. “That would work, yes. But I've got a favour to ask of you.”

“Ask away! You know I'd do anything for you, Kat,” he told me, the earnestness on his face palpable. I wanted to pick him up and stuff him somewhere safe and far away.

“Can I stay here tonight?” The odds of running into L again were low, but I did not trust him not to try to spirit me away. Safest to be within a home tonight.

“Of course! You can use my room,” he assured me. “I'll take the couch.”

“Isn't there a spare bedroom?’ I could've sworn I'd seen one.

Dane froze, a pained look creeping onto his features. “That's my parents' room,” he whispered. “I can't…”

He could not bring himself to use it. “I understand,” I told him, and pulled him to his feet. “Take your own bedroom, I don't really need somewhere to sleep.” 

Dane gave me a grateful look. “Kat, do you really think we can… You know, save my parents?”

I ran my fingers through his hair, and hugged him. “I promised you, didn't I? And I always keep my promises.” How I would do it was a separate issue.

All through the night, I could hear Dane rolling in his bed, crying and shifting sleeplessly. I stayed outside his door, standing guard. There was such fragile beauty in his emotion, such truth in his pain, such rawness in his humanity. I could not tell if I pitied or admired him for it.

By dawn, I had prepared all I needed. String, to tie loose ends together. Blood, to find a heartless body. And a penknife, because everything is made better with blades. I had it all in my bag when Dane stumbled out of bed, dark circles under his eyes, uniform crumpled and askew. “Kat? Oh god, I had the worst night,” he mumbled, gulping down the cup of coffee I had set out for him.

“Let's go,” I said. “I don't want to waste any more time kicking about the bush.” It would not be nearly so easy to hide Dane with the aura of his boon about him. In fact, I was counting on that. 

He downed the dregs. “Alright, alright,” Dane mumbled. “Let's get going.” Marching to the door, he swung it open with the lethargy of the sleepless. 

It opened to reveal L, standing right where he had been when we last spoke. Before either of them could react, I slipped into the gap between the door. “What the hell are you doing here, L? I told you to go home,” I snapped, punctuating my words with a shove in his direction.

L held his ground stubbornly. “I'm coming with you, Kat,” he insisted. “You're not going off on one of your hare brained schemes without me.”

“I can handle myself,” I hissed back, glaring at him. “I told you, I'm not going home. Not now, not whence we rescue Dane's parents, not ever.”

“Damn it, Kat! You're acting like a-” He caught himself, and snatched a cautious glance at the security cameras. “A child,” he continued. “You don't belong here. None of us do.”

“I'm happy here,” I said, half-pleading, half-yelling. “And I-”

“You love that boy, don't you?” L pointed a finger accusingly at Dane. “You're in love with a mo-” He swallowed his words again. “A boy.”

“I’m not in love! Not in that way,” I told him, crossing my arms. “Is it so impossible to believe that I can love a place? That I can be happy without you? That I have a life beyond what you and the others have me?”

“Now listen here-” For the third time, L was cut off. Dane shouldered his way past me and glared at him. 

“I don't know who you are or what you think you're doing, but you aren't allowed to harass my best friend in my house,” he said. 

L and I exchanged a look. It said, ‘Human hubris was just what needed to be added to this argument'. “He's my brother,” I sighed. “And he wants me to go home.”

Dane sized L up in that manner young males so often did. They were the same height, though Dane was by far the broader. Finally, he asked, “Do you want to go home?”

Taken by surprise, I laughed. “Of course not! This is the home I've searched for my whole life,” I admitted. 

L made a noise of frustration and pressed closer against the doorway. “Listen, if I help you out with your little venture here, will you at least consider coming home?”

I thought about it. L would make a fine asset. I glanced at Dane. It was his life, after all.

Gently, Dane placed his hand on my shoulder. “I trust you to make the right decision,” he whispered.

Damn that boy. Had it just been me, I would've rejected L outright and punctuated my refusal with a kick to his crotch. Instead, I sighed and stepped through the doorway. “Alright, fine. Deal,” I muttered, sticking my hand out to shake his.

L did not bother with that, instead sweeping me up into an icy embrace. “Accursed-gods be praised, I missed you,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled. Secretly, however? 

I had to admit it, I was pleased. 

We snuck L past the security guards at school using Dane as a human shield. It was… Awkward, to say the least, but L seemed to derive amusement from it.

At 6am, nobody was in school. The hallways were lit only by the grey post-dawn and the red of the security cams. L eyed them nervously as we walked down the halls. “How can you be so calm, surrounded by those things? They terrify me,” he said, when we rounded a corner and escaped their gaze.

“If you aren't doing anything wrong, you've got nothing to fear,” I quipped. “Now listen, this entire hallway has no cameras, and I'm pretty sure it's not just a design oversight. Mrs C and her brood are using this place for something. I wanna find out what, and preferably before she decides to make a move on me.”

The walls were too-pristine, lacking the grime and stains that permeated the rest of the school. I tapped them regularly, hunting for a hollow spot. “There's a secret doorway somewhere… I've never quite found it, but it's gotta be somewhere.”

Obediently, Dane joined me in hunting for the secret passage. L surveyed the hallway with bland curiosity, then stepped up to a random spot. “This one,” he announced, grinning smugly at me. “Still got a thing or two to learn, eh, little sister?”

I glared at him and tapped the spot he indicated. It slid apart seamlessly. “Holy shit,” Dane said, stepping up and peering into the hallway that lay beyond. “That's pretty cool.” he paused. “I wonder if there's other tunnels like it around.”

“Have you taught the boy nothing?” L gave him a little shove and walked into the hallway, leaving me to follow. “These are everywhere. In fact, magic is everywhere, so long as you know where to find it.”

I laughed. “You know the camera's are still watching, right?” 

L jumped like a frightened mouse. “Where? I could've sworn it was safe,” he said, hunting for the telltale stare of a security cam.

“Hah! Gotcha,” I jeered. “Still got a thing or two to learn, eh, elder brother? Especially about sniffing out lies.”

The look of affronted rage that passed over his face made me snort. “I bet you're wishing you didn't offer to help out,” I told him.

Stubborn bastard that he was, he shook his head. “No, I don't. Irritating beast though you are, Kat, you are my sister.” He gave my nose a playful tap. “By the by, your little mortal is about to get himself killed.”

I snapped my head around to find Dane far ahead of us, at the end of the corridor. He was wrestling with a locked door, trying to open it with brute force. “Dear gods! Dane, quit that immediately. We've got no idea what's on the other side,” I snapped.

Dane didn't listen. “My parents are in there,” he yelled back, slamming his shoulder against the metal door. “I can feel it.”

I threw my hands in the air and hurried to aid him. ��Your senses can deceive you, you know,” I warned him as I studied the door. “Even odds this is a trap.” It certainly would be, in my opinion. The only thing that correlated the two issues was their physical vicinity.

Nonetheless, I lifted my foot and kicked. The door flew off its hinges with a satisfying crunch. I'd be damned before I'd admit it to L, but there were some things I missed about not being surrounded by cams. This was one of them.

Dane watched me with eyes like saucers. “Wait- If it's a trap, why're we walking in?”

“Cos it being a trap never stopped me before,” I replied, winking. 

It was a trap, as expected. What I did not expect was to get thoroughly caught in it. As soon as I stepped out into the open, a net descended upon me. I suppose it was entirely my fault, because I thrashed enough to get Dane caught in it too. The two of us fell into a heap of netting and limbs, and only L had the sense to back away. As I was forcibly pulled into the sole, blinding light by sharp-nailed hands, I watched my brother press himself against the wall, blending in with the darkness. 

“Well, isn't that a sight?” Mrs C. sneered down at me. “The Kat got dragged in this time. I could've sworn it was typically the other way around,” she purred.

I detangled myself from Dane and prepared to launch myself at her. “Nuh uh,” she hissed, aiming a sharp kick at my stomach. “I'm afraid someone's watching.”

She was right, damn it. The unflinching red of a security camera watched me from a corner of my vision. I dared do no more than bare my teeth and hiss at her.

Beside me, Dane stumbled into a semi-upright position. “Kat,” he hissed, confused and helpless as a newborn kitten. “What's going on?”

I forced him back down. Damn that boy, always piping up at the wrong time. Hoping it would distract her, I met Mrs C's triumphant grin with a look of pure hatred. “Cheng Kai Ling, eldest of eight,” I began, feeling the camera's stare burn me. “Born 1890 as the child of two poor immigrants. Taught to read and write by the nuns at Saint Joseph's Convent. You had a penchant for mathematics, they realised, and set you at the book-keeping of the church. That was how you put your youngest brother through to university. He was far dumber than you, however, and you all knew it. But what could you do? You were the eldest, and a girl besides.”

Her facade wavered with nostalgia. Humans were all the same, no matter their age and abilities. “How the hell do you know that?” She grabbed me by my lapels, shaking me roughly. “Hmm? Tell me, little witch.”

Was that what she thought I was? I gave her my blandest smile. “It was a dark night, just before a hurricane hit, that a stranger showed up at your door. He was cold and pale and you were kind, so you let him into the convent. He offered you a chance to see the future, didn't he? A chance to live a life beyond the boundaries of the church and your books.”

“Kat,” Dane repeated, tugging at my skirt. “Maybe you should stop upsetting her?”

We both paused, and I winced. With nigh-inhuman speed, Mrs C swept Dane up and tossed him against the wall, ripping the wire net as she did so. I watched my friend smack against the wall with a crack. He didn't stir, and I hoped he had nothing worse than a concussion.

“Yes, little Katherine. You should shut up, just like your little boyfriend,” Mrs C concurred. “Perhaps if you beg for forgiveness now, I will make your and your love's deaths swift.” The grimace on her face said otherwise.

I gulped despite myself, and continued. “In some ways, I don't blame you. I sacrificed so much for my freedom too, you know. But-” I crossed my arms. “To sacrifice your entire family? To give up your sisters' lives and burn your home down to ash? To gulp down their lifeblood to sustain yours? I think you crossed one line too far.”

Mrs C's eyes glowed ever-so-slightly red, just like the camera. “You insolent bitch! You think you know anything about my life? You think you’re worthy of judging my choices? You're nothing but a feckless child, and I'm going to drain you dry,” she snarled, baring teeth.

“Sure you will,” I drawled. “You're not any more intimidating than you were when you told me off for not handing in my homework. Less so, actually. At least then you had a leg to stand on.” There was, in fact, a tinge of panic to my voice. I tried to control it, as far as I could, but truth be told, I really had no idea how to get out of this one.

Bad enough that I was trapped, but Dane was a massive liability, fragile as he was. L was never going to dare the camera's attention, even if my life was on the line. Or was he?

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement. I suppose L had been smarter than I gave him credit for, because he snuck directly beneath the camera, right under its blind spot. I dared not look closer, for Mrs C had leaned in so close that I could smell the blood on her breath.

“Oh, you are so dead,” she snarled. “I am going to rip you limb from limb, right after you watch me eat your little boyfriend alive. If you're lucky, his screams will be the last thing you hear.” Her fingers dug in sharp against my shoulders, and I prayed she would not notice the lack of blood.

“Is that so? Aren't you worried you'll damage your dentures?” I sneered at her. “Perhaps you should just check yourself into an old folk's home instead. Wouldn't want to give yourself a heart attack with all the excitement you've got going on.” 

It was a shot in the dark, but it hit home. She tossed me harder she had done Dane, a blow that would shatter any lesser being's limbs. Playing innocent, I lay limp as a ragdoll, listening to the clacking of her footsteps. Curses, but we were still trapped under the camera's gaze. 

Her breath came in harsh gasps, the last traces of her facade of humanity evaporating. With fingers like needles, she hauled me up to eye level. “Foolish girl,” she began, but I was having none of it. 

I raised my head and met her eyes. With a deliberate hawk, I produced a glob of saliva.

Then I spat it in her eye.

The effect was immediate. She released me with a howl that was more animal than sapient, clawing at her face. Her body rippled as it shed its guise, revealing what lay beneath. Her canines sharpened, sliding out of her mouth like sabres. Bones crackled as they slid out of her skin as jutting spikes, two rubbery wings ripping her dress as they flared up like a cape.

Finally, her transformation was over. Head brushing against the ceiling, Mrs C looked down at me with eyes that were a pure red. Her tongue flickered out, split in half. “Gaze upon me,” she growled with a hundred voices. “Gaze upon me, little witch, and know true fear.”

On my knees before a monster and watched by a camera that would gleefully end me, I laughed. “You know,” I said, giggling like a schoolgirl in the face of her blinding wrath, “You really should look behind you.” 

Nonplussed, she tilted her head 180° like an owl. “I see nothing,” she replied. “Do not think you can trick your way out of this o… Oh. Oh shit.”

“Oh shit indeed,” I remarked, and gave a little way to the camera that had been watching us this whole time. Its lens glowed lava-hot with wrath, trained on Mrs C like a laser.

In a moment that felt like an hour, she went up in white-hot flames. I pressed myself against the wall, feeling it scorch me from its sheer rage. A scream that could have been her being torn apart bounced off the walls, and she fell back. For a moment, our eyes met, one monster to another.

Then she was a pile of ash, glowing red, stinking up the air with her remains. I unstuck myself from the wall and plucked a flake of C from my hair. “Brother,” I called out to the darkness. “Are you alright?”

L did not respond. Finally, he unfolded himself from the protective ball he had curled into. “This was why I said don't go near the bloody cameras,” he croaked. “Be grateful I saved your little boy-toy.” 

I walked over to him. Indeed, Dane was breathing, shallow breaths between gasps of pain. “It'll be alright,” I promised him, heart breaking at his expression. The way Dane's eyes were glazed over, shaking and crying softly… Curses, I had promised the kid I would protect him. The urge to fix him immediately, consequences be damned, overtook me. I wrestled control over myself and said, “L, use your jacket to cover the camera. I'm certain it will work.” I had tested that myself, in the very first nerve-wracking moments of my life as a schoolgirl.

Grudgingly, he got up and flung his jacket over the camera, obscuring the hateful red. “Right,” he said, staring down at Dane with a blank expression on his face. “I take it we've got to save him?”

“Of course we do!” I bared my teeth at him. “I promised him, you know that? When his parents disappeared in the night, he came to me for help. When he found himself alone, he trusted me. When he learnt about what I was and what lived in the dark places, he still stood by me. So yes, we have to save him.”

I placed my hands on my apprentice's soft flesh. There was a bone jutting out awkwardly, and I pushed it back into place. Any mortal medical professional would have been horrified at my methods, but I knew what I was doing. Quietly, I put him back together, shushing him when he cried out, stroking his hair as I had done every time he wept. My skirt was damp with his tears, but I could not care less.

Finally, the last wound had been mended, and I gently coaxed him to his feet. He shivered on his legs, barely able to support himself. “It's alright,” I whispered, holding out my hands. “She’s gone. Come on, little one. It's all gonna be okay.”

Dane gave me an indignant look, as though he disagreed with being called a ‘little one', but collapsed into my arm nonetheless. I almost folded under his sudden weight, but held on. It would not do to show him weakness at this point, after all. The boy needed support and comfort. 

“So,” I said, “You said you felt your parents nearby?”

He nodded. “They have to be nearby. I just know it.” 

I jerked my head at L. “You've got the senses for it, and you've yet to be any of the help I was promised,” I said bluntly. “Get to sniffing, brother.”

L rolled his eyes. “It's obvious, little sister. Follow the reek of flesh, and you will find the prey. Or have your years of hanging amongst mortals dulled your senses?”

I bristled at the obvious reference to what we were, but did not respond. It shamed me to admit that I had indeed been going native, with the softness that conferred. There was hardly a need for me to hunt and track, so I let my scent-sense rot.

With blithe arrogance, L located yet another secret door. “Whatever is it with blood-suckers and hidden crypts? I swear, I have yet to meet one who did not adore them,” he commented, rapping his knuckles against the concrete.

“It's good for hiding things,” Dane replied, sotto voce. There was a tenseness in him, anxiety and hope and fear all churning beneath his skin. I ruffled his hair, futilely hoping to calm him.

As L finished tapping the last of a code onto the wall, it slid open, revealing… Yet another dark hallway. I had to say, Mrs C's lack of creativity disappointed me.

There were corpses scattered about, dessicated and rotting, as though the mouldy old crypt was not cliche enough. Brittle old bones crunched underfoot, and I felt Dane cringe in discomfort at the feeling of his kinden's dead being desecrated so. L and I, however, had no such reservations.

“A feeding room,” he noted as we ventured deeper into the passageway. The scent of raw, fresh flesh grew stronger. There were living humans nearby, living humans in agony. For Dane's sake, I prayed that his parents numbered amongst the bleeding. It was better than the alternative.

“Kat,” Dane said, hurrying to catch up with us. He winced at every step, trying and failing to dodge the bones scattered across the floor. “Kat- I think my parents are here. I know they are. I can't explain it, but-”

“You sense it,” I finished. “It is a good thing. Your intuition is blossoming. Someday, you will make a fine man.” And I hoped to all my enemy-gods that I would be there to see it, to see the first thing I had cared about bloom.

He smiled faintly at that praise, but greater matters occupied his mind. Despite his unease, he quickened his pace, hurrying towards the source of the blood-scent.

I suppose something must have smiled upon us, for his parents yet lived. They lay amongst dozens of other mortals, half-piled atop each other like a pigsty. How had Mrs C gathered so many, and with no notice from the authorities? It troubled me, the same way the gelato-fae troubled me.

But I digress. Dane was the centre of attention, and his parents the grand jewels of his crown. Ruby blood glistened from their throats, and I could see the deathly paleness of their skin, but their chests moved. No recognition stirred in their eyes, even as Dane knelt beside them.

A happy ending. It may well have brought tears to my eyes to see it.

“Look at them,” L growled beside me, grimacing in distaste. “Nothing more than livestock. How can you dote upon them, care for them so? No sensible being could see them as more than playthings.”

I glared at him. “In case you have not noticed, I have never been one for sense.” With a flick of my wrist, sharper than necessary, the blood on Dane's parents' throats dried, and their eyes fluttered open. 

Instantly, he was all over them, not caring about the groggy shock of the other bloodless humans. I watched him for a moment more, then turned away. “Our deal is concluded,” I snapped. “Let's go.”

We walked back through the hallway, and in the clearing where Mrs C's ash filled the air, I turned to face him. We were hardly more than an arms-width apart, enough for him to lunge and grab and drag me home. “I'm still not going, you know. Even if you haul me all the way back, I'll crawl to the surface again. This is where I belong.”

“I know.”

“Fine, then. There's nothing left for us to say.”

“I agree.”

We both knew he would be fast enough to pull me away. We both knew that if he did, Dane and everyone I cared for would be long dead by the time I returned. We both knew that trapping me again might just work. 

There was a grim set to his face, a harshness in his eyes. It mirrored mine. We might as well have been back home, with that chasm between us, youngest and eldest butting heads for the thousandth time. I could feel the words stuck in the back of my throat, unable to demand he go for the last time, incapable of bridging the gap between us, powerless to break away from the last of my past.

Finally, L shook his head, lips twisting into a humourless smile. The wheels in his head grinded to a halt, at the same conclusion I had come to seven hours ago. He liked it no more than I did. “I can see you are happier here, for whatever reason. I cannot say I am happy, but I will not stop you. I love you too much for that, sister mine. Enjoy your life with these mayflies.” He began walking away, shoulders slumped in a defeat I had never seen before.

“Wait.” Before I could stop myself, I had a hand on his shoulder. Up close, I felt his regret as if it were my own. In a way, it was. He was sorry he could not convince me to stay with the pack forever, with my siblings in our home far away from prying, foolish mortals. I was sorry I could not show him that it was not his fault, that I loved him and the others no less for it. “Farewell. And I love you too, just as I love Ari, and Cere, and Ter, and all the others, ‘kay? Visit me again someday.”

He froze, mouth ever-so-slightly open. Then he grabbed me. Instinctively, I reached to scratch him, to stop him from dragging me home. But it was only a hug, in the end, an icy, bittersweet, goodbye hug. “You can visit us, too, if you ever wish,” he whispered. “And if that little boy of yours ends up down with me, I promise to take good care of him. Have a happy eternity, you strange, strange girl.”

I nodded, and pulled open a way home. The words had deserted us both again, and we held each other tight silently. Finally, he pulled apart from me, and walked through the door that I made, the door to a place I had sworn to never return to. 

My brother went home without a backward glance. And curse my heart, but I thought of following. The room was dusty and reeked of a dead woman's failure, the corridor beyond holding none of the emotion that so horrified Dane, and the mortal world so very peculiar to me.

“Kat?” That plaintive voice, warbling from the corridor, dragged me back to Earth. “Are you still there?”

I took a final glance at the gateway, one final wayward glance, and waved it closed. “I'm coming,” I called back. “Give me a minute.”

Damn that sweet, innocent child. How many times had he saved me, again? Rescued me from my own folly, pulled me out of my darkness, protected me from making choices I would regret? Did he even know what he had done to help me? Of course he didn't, innocent fool that he was. I got up to go look after him, to go check on him and his family, and stopped midway.

I don't know what perverse desire compelled me to glance back at the security camera. I don't know what might have happened if I had not glanced back, had not pulled back the facade and looked at the thing beneath. I don't know if I regret glancing back. 

You see, the cloth covering it had slipped at some point in the chaos, and its clear glass eye stared into my soul. The red hid flames like no other, flames that would scorch even me.

Heart sinking, I gave it a nervous grin. Damn, but it hurt to be caught at the last moment. To fail, after everything we'd done. To lose this wonderful world that had just accepted me into its heart. The security eye held my gaze for a horrible eternity.

Then it winked at me.

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[rorywritesjunk]

Multichapter Fics

Here's the Masterpost for my Multichapter Fics!

This will feature tags for Sunny, Cupcake, Birdie, The Wives, and any thing else that pops up that will be multple postings of the same characters.

This post is a work in progress as of 5/4/24!

Sunny & Buggy

Cupcake & Buggy

“Let’s be one another’s present tense” (R-ish) Buggy ‘rescues’ you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 (NC-17) + Chapter 16 (NC-17)

One-Shots

"Nobody can find us – they don’t know where to start" (PG) Playing hide and seek was always fun with his mama until he was separated from her.

Cupcake's Birthday + Buggy's Birthday + Geoduck + Thoughts on Kids

Birdie & Buggy

"The stars in their courses will run and bring their hearts earthward to hear her." (PG-13ish) Buggy brings his son in to the bakery to get a treat for his birthday. You like decorating cakes. Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7

A Family Outing + Bath routine

Buggy & The Wives

"When I’m broken and bent, would you take me on the mend" (PG) The Strawhats didn’t know the clown was married. For as much as he could talk, he never mentioned them.

"And I can see it each and every time you smile" (PG) The Wives have a Girls’ Night once a month and Buggy finally gets invited.

"but even bound as we are, we can do all sorts of things" (PG) The Wives somehow end up on the Oro Jackson when Buggy’s just a kid. To them, it’s a delight to see their husband as a kid, but to Buggy, they’re kelpies ready to take him away.

Tattoos + Thoughts on them + Bath + Intimacy

“Oh, go to sleep, Little Skylark. Fly up past the stars” (PG-13ish) (Complete) After breaking your heart, Buggy is cursed to be a kid again. The last thing you want to do is be involved with this.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8

"Be gentle with yourself as you uncover Your best kept secrets yet to be discovered" (PGish) (A Howl's Moving Castle AU)

Buggy meets an infamous pirate who dabbles in magic that everyone seems to be after, but they only have eyes for Buggy. Why is he so special?

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 +Chapter 3 + Chapter 4

"There is no sweeter innocence than out gentle sin" (R-NC17) Crocodile brings on a former assistant to manage Buggy and his workload. Buggy realizes he likes it when Taron praises him for the littlest things. Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7

[imzadi-caskett-huddy]

CHARACTER ASK GAME: Kate Beckett, 1-14 (all) + 25., if it's not a problem. :) Thank you!

I'm not gonna lie, I 100% wanted someone to send me this ask about Beckett! Sorry it took a little bit to answer, I'm on vacation so I've been occupied. But here we go!

1. I like this character because she's not perfect. She has flaws, but she still always tries to do the right thing. She's badass. She's strong. She's independent. She's incredibly well written because real people aren't perfect. There are qualities she has that I share. There are qualities she has that I admire and strive to emulate. And... not gonna lie...Stana's portrayal I'm sure has something to do with it as well.

2. Fav canon thing... um...I love that she was a fan of Castle's before they began working together. I also love that she was the youngest woman in the history of the NYPD to make detective. I also love her motorcycle though we never really saw her ride.

3. Least fav canon thing... that she felt she had to try to be separated from Castle in Season 8 to protect him... also she's not great at communication in relationships, like with Castle. Use your words!

4. Any other media... not gonna lie, I would LOVE a SVU/Castle crossover where Beckett and Benson shared time together, either with Benson as her captain, or as the two captains dealing with the men in their lives or their precincts.

5. First song that comes to mind...Superman by 3 Doors Down

6. Something Beckett and I have in common... we both suck at talking about our feelings.

7. Something the fandom does that I like... use her hairstyle to tell the season and sometimes the episode... does that count? This one was hard, lol

8. Something the fandom does that I despise... say her eyes are green in fics. Also there is a fair amount of Beckett hate inside the Castle fandom...I don't understand it.

9. Beckett and I would probably be okay roommates. I keep to myself the way she does. I'm slightly more messy I think than she'd probably like, but we'd most likely get along ok.

10. I could totally be best friends with Kate Beckett! Similar personalities... similar likes...we'd get along great.

11. Um...no. If I'm dating anyone from the world of Castle, it's Castle himself.

12. Headcanon I have...She made her Detective rank in vice. I'm reasonably sure this was never stated in the show, but it's just a strong feeling I have. She's too good at certain aspects of her job to not have come up through the ranks in vice before she became a homicide detective. Also that she was a chronic dater before Castle came along.

13. Emoji... nothing reminds me of her, but if I had to pick one she probably uses a lot, it would be the facepalm because... well... she did marry Castle. And I feel he requires that one a lot.

14. Fashion aesthetic... leather jackets

15. Favorite ship... uh, Caskett, duh!

16. Least fav ship...Josh. Definitely Josh. He was a serious problem who hung around way too long. And I KNOW Marlowe kept him around solely as the reason Castle and Beckett didn't hook up at the end of season 3 in episodes like LA

17. Ship that I don't hate but am fine with...um, there isn't one. She's Castle's girl. I don't like her with anyone else... I'm not fine with her with anyone else.

18. Canon relationship I admire with another character...I love her relationship with Martha. I also love her relationship with Espo, especially in episodes like Kill Shot. And I LOVE Lanie and Kate screentime!

19. Relationship from Canon that I don't like... I don't know that there is one outside of the guys she dated. Not a fan of her dealings with Sorenson, Demming or Josh, but I feel that's pretty standard.

20. Ideal best friend... Lanie is a pretty great girl best friend. Castle is a pretty great guy best friend... which is good considering they got married.

21. Fav thing to do when writing for Beckett is angst. I can't help it...Stana was SO great with those heavy emotional scenes on the show, I love worrying then with her in my head! Something I don't like writing for her is actual police work. I HATE it so much. Also, the few times I've had to write her with Josh drive me crazy too.

22. Something I like in fics when it comes to Beckett is having her call Castle "Rick" sparingly. He calls her Kate way more than she calls him Rick... it should start like that in fics. Something I don't like... and I touched on it earlier... is when writers say she has green eyes. Her eyes are not green. Also, when writers have her just stay crying over everything... Kate is not a random emotional crier. You have to do a lot to get her to re m that point... she's not going to cry over an argument or something small.

23. Fav pic... oh no. No way can I narrow this down.

24. I'm not sure there is another character from another fandom that reminds me of Beckett. She's pretty one of a kind. She's definitely one of the best written characters in TV history, and she towers over everyone else in my list of favorite characters because she's so unique.

25. My first impression of this character was that she has great hair, awesome leather jackets that I want, and that she's a badass hero who at times I see a lot of myself in. Also that she's a fighter. Now after watching the show beginning to end, my impression was pretty spot on. Though I would add I discovered her softer side (I initially saw the show before they got together, so before the Kate side of her personality was really fleshed out). And she's stronger than I initially realized.

These were fun, thanks for asking!

[stardustizuku]

The Avatar of Mestionora

~ Rozemyne Playlist || The commoner daughter of a soldier, turned goddess

A little playlist I made from the start of the series; to the very end

(This was a fun project I’ve been making since halfway through Part 5. I’m so excited to finally see it finished. This was a wild, long ride, and I can’t express how much fun I had. This series has made me go through such an emotional roller coaster, so I decided to share this playlist. I hope you enjoy listening to it as much as i enjoyed making it.

I’m thinking about making a separate post explaining the background of my selection. Why i chose what songs, why in that order, and how I separated the parts. But given the size of the playlist, it may take a while. That said, if you’re interested and wanna know about anything, feel free to ask! I will answer with delight).

PART 1 - Daughter of a Soldier

1.- Naughty - Matilda Cast (From Matilda Musical)

2.- Ponyo on the cliff by the sea - Noah Cyrus, Frankie Jonas (From Ponyo)

3.- Flowers in my hair - Wes Reeves

4.-My Love is Mine, All Mine - Mitski

5.- When I Grow Up - Matilda Cast (From Matilda Musical)

PART 2 - Apprentice of a Shrine Maiden

6.- Quiet - Matilda Cast (From Matilda Musical)

7.- Unsweetened Lemonade - Amélie Farren

8.- Once Upon a December - Christy Altomare ( From Anastasia Musical)

9.- Only Love Can Save Us Now - Ke$ha

10.- Go Tonight - Krystina Alabado, Emma Hunton (From Mad Ones Musical)

11.- Two Orugitas - Sebastian Yatra (From Encanto)

PART 3 - Adopted Daughter of the Archduke

12.- Chiquitita - ABBA

13.- Class of 2013 - Mitski

14.- The Milk Carton - Madilyn Mei

15.- Family Jewels - MARINA

16.- Seventeen - MARINA

17.- We Both Reached For The Gun - Chicago Cast (From Chicago Musical)

18.- Found - Sarah Stiles & Zach Callison (From Steven Universe The Movie)

19.- She Used to Be Mine - Jessie Mueller (From Waitress Musical)

PART 4 - Founder of the So-Called Library Comittee

20.- Ancient Dreams in a Modern Life - MARINA

21.- Belle - Beauty and the Beast Cast (From Beauty and Beast Movie)

22.- Non-Stop - Hamilton Cast (From Hamilton Musical)

23.- Put You in Your Place - Percy Jackson Cast (From Lighting Thief Musical)

24.- Little Wolf - EPIC Cast (From EPIC Musical)

25.- Téir Abhaile Riu - Celtic Women

26.- Fine on the Outside - Priscilla Ahn (From When Marnie was Here)

27.- The Prophecy - Taylor Swift

28.- Francis Forever - Mitski

PART 5 - The Avatar of a goddess

29.- Warrior of the Mind - EPIC Cast (From Epic Musical)

30.- Idol - YOASOBI

31.- Venus Fly Trap - MARINA

32.- Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Lorde (From the Hunger Games Movies)

33.- LABOUR (Cacophony) - Paris Paloma

34.- Don’t Make me - MALINDA

35.- Breakfast - Dove Cameron

36.- Hit me with your Best Shot - ADONA

37.- Nothing You Can Take From Me - Rachel Zegler (From Ballad from Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes)

38.- Breathe - Leslie Grace (From In The Heights Movie)

39.- I Can Do It With a Broken Heart - Taylor Swift

40.- Fine Line - Ke$ha

41.- Product of My Own Design - Artio

42.- Queen of Kings - Alessandra

43.- No Good Deed - Wicked Cast (From Wicked Musical)

44.- Safe and Sound - Taylor Swift (From the Hunger Games Movies)

45.- Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? - Taylor Swift

46.- Ruthlessness - Cast of EPIC (From Epic Musical)

47.- They’re Only Human - Annapantsu & Caleb Hyles (Death Note Musical Cover)

48.- Thumbs - Sabrina Carpenter

49.- Respectless - Hazbin Hotel Cast (From Hazbin Hotel)

50.- The Greatest Show - Panic at the Disco! (From Greatest Showman)

51.- Different Beast - Cast of EPIC (From Epic Musical)

52.- Done For - Cast of EPIC (From Epic Musical)

53.- I am not a woman, I’m a god - Halsey

54.- Inkpot Gods - The Amazing Devil

55.- Sea of Love - Cat Power

56.- Once Upon a Dream - Lana del Rey (From Maleficent)

57.- Paciencia Y Fe - Olga Merediz

58.- To Build A Home - Patrick Watson

59.- Lover - Taylor Swift

60.- When You’re Home - Leslie Grace & Corey Hawkins (From In The Heights)

61.- Dog Days Are Over - Florence and the Machine

[disgruntledkittenface]

✨️ Twenty Questions for Fic Writers ✨️

Thank you @allwaswell16 and @haztobegood for tagging me! I love reading everyone's answers to these <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

60, including one cowrite

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

831,513

3. What fandoms do you write for?

One Direction. I use the BBC Radio 1 RPF tag for pairings with Nick Grimshaw, and I used the Shawn Mendes (Musician) one a few times, too.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

you came into my life, caught up in your love affair, baby, you're the end of june, an honest mistake and tell me what you need

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I love replying to comments, even when I feel awkward about it. I really like getting replies from authors, I find it discouraging not to, so that's partly why. But a nice comment really makes me day, and I want to let people know I appreciate that. But I might miss one occasionally, and sometimes I don't reply if I think the commenter is being rude.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

It's probably my first fic, This Town. The whole fic is Niall processing Zayn leaving the band – but more importantly leaving him, and they don't get back together in the end. It's not my fault, Niall wrote a sad song! But also I was in the thick of grieving, so. That's what happened.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I almost, almost always write happy endings, so I could really pick this one at random lol, but I'll go with enough to make a girl blush. I really love how far Louis has come at the end of that fic and how happy she and Niall are together and how good they are together. Plus, I wrote a happy little timestamp for Harry and Zayn (count me in).

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten comments that don't sit well with me, but not really. I did post a fic set at the beginning of COVID before I knew how bad it would get, and someone messaged me to say they were sorry about the hate it was getting... but I didn't see any?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes! I write smut that I find hot, girl direction and boy direction. When I started writing, I felt like I wrote absolutely terrible smut and I worked really hard to figure it out. Practice makes progress, baby.

10. Do you write crossovers? What the craziest one you've written?

I've written a couple of reality show AUs with the actual people from the shows in the fic – you came into my life and you wanna be on top? Nothing too crazy!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I think someone stole a shiall one-shot and posted it on Wattpad. Weirdly, I feel like I haven't made it because that doesn't happen to me more often.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! Most recently, someone asked if they could translate pink like the paradise found into Russian and they were so lovely.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I took part in a round robin for Nic's (@louandhazaf) birthday a few years ago! (Louis referring to merlot as the basic bitch of wines was me!) Co-writing has come up as an idea a couple of times, but the timing or idea etc has never been right.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I kind of have to fall deep for a pairing to write them, so I love a lot of pairings! Aside from larry, I think gryles might be my favorite. Something about the pining best friends who can't be together because of... REASONS just gets me where I live.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I had an idea for a lilo exes to lovers AU based on bennifer and I wrote a snippet that I really liked for it, but I felt like I was white washing Jennifer Lopez, if that's the right word? Like you can't separate her from the fact that she's Puerto Rican, so casting Louis in that role didn't feel right. I could try to figure out another way to approach it, but I don't really think I'll feel inspired enough.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm really good at continuity, and writing scenes with lots of people and involving all of them.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I always feel like I start sentences with "Niall did this" and "Harry did that" (sorry, writing narry at the moment). So, narration that's not action? Does that make sense?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think it can be done effectively. I liked how the French worked in Darling, so it goes. It made sense to include because Harry moved to a country where he didn't speak the language. I tried to make the meaning of the French clear when Harry understood it, but I didn't include translations in the notes because Harry didn't understand a lot, and I wanted the reader in his shoes. I worked really hard on the French because I don't speak it, but I asked @somethingwittyorother to look it over and their feedback was incredibly helpful.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

One Direction!

20. Favorite fic you've written?

It's usually the last fic that I posted, so right now it's Suddenly Last Summer. I had the best time writing it and it was such a fulfilling creative outlet, and I just love it.

I'll tag: @crinkle-eyed-boo @uhoh-but-yeah-alright @neondiamond @kingsofeverything @louandhazaf @absoloutenonsense @homosociallyyours @nouies @onlythebravest

[argentumcor]

@paranorahjones tagged me in this. I'm not usually one for this sort of thing but I've been looking at writing-qua-writing to get some stuff in order so I figured I'd do a little navel-gazing (procrastinating).

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Oh goodness. I think my first fanfic was for KotOR back in…before 2008, before I graduated high school. It’s lost to LiveJournal I believe, or FF.net. Several things are. They were fine, as I recall. Written when I was a lot younger for sure. I had to write them, though.

How many fandoms have you written in?

To go by AO3, 30 that I would consider actual separate fandoms. Many of those are one-shots, sometimes just odd ideas I had about something I watched or read or played, things I needed to get out of my head.

How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

Must be around 16, though there were several years-long breaks in there. I am a dried-up old woman. You'll never be actually cool until you're over 30, kids, and then you won't even really care, get over it.

Do you read or write more fanfiction?

Frankly, read. I read very fast, I write not as fast, no one writes as fast as I read. For whatever fandom I’m working in, with exceptions, I will read new things and things I liked to help keep me motivated and inspired. As you can see from how many fandoms I’ve written for, I devour new fiction by nature. Verily, I hunger for it.

What is one way you've improved as a writer?

Pacing, pacing, pacing. I write my own stuff under my real name- I will not dox myself, partly paranoia and partly a sense of personal artistic ethics- and fanfiction has been my training wheels especially with pacing. It is the hardest part of fiction to me, something intuitive you have to have a go at until you find the right sense of it.

What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Hmm. I’m not a great barometer for weird. In recent memory, I spent a lot of time walking around every stupid alleyway and cranny of Night City in Cyberpunk 2077. I spend a lot of time feeling around in the guts of the fandoms I write- sometimes that’s really what it feels like you are doing.

What's your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

Hard to pick. It’s really nice when someone gets what you’re doing with structure and theme for longer works, but the people who are just struck plan by something I wrote are very special to me. All my commenters are, really. You guys rock. You know what though? The ones who say things like “oh thank God I found this, it feels like it was written by an adult who cares about the characters as people and not some teenager trying to get off”, I like those ones best because I totally understand.

What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Hmm. It’s a hard life, being a neo-paleo-counter-reformationist, but somebody’s gotta do it (rosary fics).

What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Crossovers most of the time. I have an X-files/SG-1 crossover I may never come back to because it required me to hold this kind of early aughts sci-fi mentality in my mind for two shows that both sync and do not sync and also isn’t where I, emotionally, am at these days. I don’t like to write crossovers generally because of that kind of thing and, even with reading, most of them are like a food combo only explainable by pregnancy hormones.

What is the easiest type?

Brief character studies where you’re looking at a character’s mindset during events. It’s simple and focused.

What is something that you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I started many moons ago, but never got around to reviving or really doing anything with, a Halo/Firefly crossover based on the end of Halo 3 that would have replaced Serenity. The crew finds some weird, old salvage adrift in the black…also my Firefly continuation since we’re on the subject, another ‘this is where the story is going’. I wonder if those notes are anywhere. No, no, wait, stop…

What made you choose your username?

I liked the sound of it. I’m Silverheart most places and argentumcor on Tumblr because Silverheart was taken so I just put it into Latin because neo-paleo-counter-reformationist and also, importantly, I am lazy.

Huh, I broke the formatting a bit? So it goes. I'll tag @womaninwinter because now she is double-tagged and this amuses me.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hello, I'm not sure if you're still doing the advice thing still but I figured I'd shoot my shot.

So I am about to turn 16 and I recently moved to a european country (I'm American). Most days, the language barrier is too much, as soon as I have to speak, I can't form words and I end up having to ask if they speak english which I feel like is unfair because I'm in their home, it's the least I could do. It doesn't help that I look very american, I have dyed hair and dress more alternative. I constantly get stared at which I absolutely hate. I don't feel welcome here.

School isn't much better, luckily my school is still an american high school so the language barrier isn't relevant. However my old school was catered to the theater and band kids, all of us were nerds and our own way and it was great. I felt like I belonged there, It made sense. This school isn't like that, it's a whole mix of people which is fine I guess. I haven't found any of my people yet. I don't know if I will if I am being honest. No one seems to have any similar interests or hobbies. I feel like I'm isolated from my peers.

Earlier today, I had my first video call with my best friend back home. She had some people over which included some of our old friends. Our friend group drifted apart as we got older and went our separate ways. So we hadn't talked to half of them in about a year. Now when I call and I see all of them back together like nothing happened, it just made me feel like I was the problem. As soon as I left they all became friends again, like I was preventing that in the first place.

Idk I'm just not having the best time right now. I have been going out of my comfort zone, I joined the local theater troupe as tech and I'm playing in the school band. But i still haven't made any connections. I just feel like I don't have an impact here and the impact back home is already being erased

I've been talking about this with my mom and she's in the same boat as me. Both of us feel alone right now and we're trying but it's hard

So yeah that's it, I'm not really sure what you can say but I just needed to get it out there. I'm not thinking about anything harmful, don't worry. I'm trying my best to communicate my feelings with my family but sometimes you need an outside perspective. I don't expect you to have all of the answers but just knowing you read this would honestly make me feel better.

Thanks for reading

(P.SI love your writing)

Hi hon!

I'm not sure if it's helpful or not but I've been in a similar situation. I moved across the US (so no language barrier) and it was so lonely when I did. Even though I went with my wife (girlfriend at the time) it was still a huge culture shock and I felt so isolated. I think that's super common, unfortunately, when you make a big move.

I do want to say- it got easier. I made connections, I found my place, it just took time. And you will too! It won't be the same as your old home, and there will always be things and people that you miss. but there will be good things about it, too, things that you like better! I promise <3

I'm sending you so much love! Naming you theater anon!

[theluckywizard]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tags @rowanisawriter and @nirikeehan

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

32

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

359,445 (since February lawdy)

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Only Dragon Age

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

In the Shattering of Things (Cullen x Rose Trevelyan, Hawke x Trevelyan long fic)

The Boy Who Talked too Much (Alistair x Cousland fluff smut one shot)

Some Kind of Witchcraft (Cullen x Rose Trevelyan fluff smut one shot)

The Protestations of the Commander's Bed (Cullen x Rose Trevelyan fluff smut one shot... sensing a theme here? LMAO)

Unvarnished (Blackwall x Rose Trevelyan Smuuuut)

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes, always! Someone is going to take the time say something nice about my writing? I'm going to like awkwardly hug them with words.

6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably toss up between

Fractures (Cullen x Rose Trevelyan whump smut)

and

Well Did You Miss Me? (Hawke x Rose Trevelyan angst)

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh this is tough. I end a lot of short fics on a very hopeful note where two people are teetering on the precipice of Looooooove.

But actually maybe a short Bethany Hawke drabble where she learns her brother Garrett is still alive in the Fade.

Contact

8. do you get hate on fics?

The closest I've gotten to hate, which wasn't really hate, just kind of funny is a few different commenters messaging me after I introduced Hawke in my long fic (the other clearly labeled Love Interest, 250k words in mind you) asking whether it was going to be Cullen in the end because they aren't interested in Hawke x Trevelyan and they don't want to read it unless it's Cullen in the end.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

Yes. I try to write really characterful, joyful/emotional smuts generally-- the kind where it's just 'totally THEM'. I think smut is only as good as the set up and characters expressing themselves, because clinical/gratuitous descriptions of sex acts without those things doesn't interest me.

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Nope!

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not but I would loooove to!

14. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

God I can't risk showing my whole ass here because a bunch of long fic readers follow me but suffice to say the race for my love is real tight between the two separate ships in my long fic - Rose Trevelyan x Cullen and Rose Trevelyan x Garrett Hawke.

Also Dick Grayson x Barbara Gordon in DC 😍

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Probably The Bequest which is my oc/oc/oc/oc/oc/oc spooky murder mystery fic. I want to believe I will but I would have to learn how to write a damn good mystery and I'm not sure I can. But will at least write some more chapters minimum!

16. what are your writing strengths?

-- snappy, authentic sounding dialogue and banter that captures the characters

-- joyful, ridiculous smut

-- setting descriptions when I really put my back into it

-- being inside a character's POV and capturing their narrative voice uniquely

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

PLOT. GAH. I only got into Fanfic in January and that's because I languished in Original Fiction Hell for two decades where I wrote and wrote aimlessly. I am a shit plotter and a shit planner. Stories come to me in scenes and feelings. So you can imagine that getting to write something that is fully plotted and world built for me is like THE BEST FUCKING THING EVER. It is so satisfying.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I have written in French a little bit for effect in the Winter Palace, but generally I don't do it, no.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

I wrote a sequel to the book The Witch of Blackbird Pond when I was thirteen maybe because the main ship gets together in the last pages and then it just ENDS and it was written in the 50s and the author was dead. I HAD TO RESOLVE THIS FOR MYSELF.

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Aside from my long fic which is my ongoing baby and I am very proud (I am in the midst of Act 2 and still loving it), it would probably be --

The Commander, the Tevinter and a Bottle of Lightning which is Dorian getting Cullen drunk on fussy Tevinter booze and Rose showing up after he's sauced. (Fluff, Cullen POV)

or

Good Old Garbolg which is Rose and Hawke getting into the storage room to try a bottle of mystery booze (one of the Bottles of Thedas) and it having some unexpected consequences (Fluffsmut, Rose POV)

I have read both of these A LOT.

Tagging @crackinglamb, @greypetrel, @bluewren, @kiastirling, @melisusthewee, @rakshadow, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @ir0n-angel, @smutnug, @monocytogenes, @skyeventide and @ammoniteflesh

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag, @walkinginland!! 💜

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

8! 😅

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

234,699 (the fact that I'm almost at a quarter of a million words feels all kinds of crazy to me 🥹)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently and on ao3, just Outlander. I did a lot more fandom hopping in my youth and on ffnet.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

the best by far is you (Outlander, multichap, canon-divergent - what if Faith lived?)

Beside the Seaside (Outlander, multichap, 1940s au - single parents twist on seasons 1&2)

The Lost Ones (Outlander, one-shot, modern au - Jamie and Claire are neighbors and help each other through a difficult holiday season)

Holly, Ivy, Mistletoe (Outlander, one-shot, tbbfiy holiday fic)

When My Love Reaches to Me (Outlander, one-shot, modern au - follow up to The Lost Ones)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do for most of my fics! Beside the Seaside has become a little overwhelming so I don't respond to those comments at the moment.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have to go with one of my drabble for this bc I dont usually write angsty endings for my fics, only angsty middles 😅 but I think Something to Hold Onto fits the bill for this. Though she be but 100 words, she is angsty.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

the best by far is you had a pretty happy ending, but I think Soften Every Edge will hold that title once it's finished.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

There was one person who REALLY didn't like the family separation arc in tbbfiy and trolled the comment section a few times, but that's been the only true hate I've ever received on a fic.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I hadn't ever written smut before Outlander, and I blame Jamie and Claire being the two horniest muses I've ever worked with for my forray into smut writing lol. I don't write a lot of smut, but if inspiration strikes and I feel like it adds to the story, I will usually include it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I do not!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of 🤞🏻 Back in my ffnet days, I had someone message me about my fic that they wanted to basically copy and paste bits and pieces of it and change the characters but keep the main storyline (staying within the same fandom, mind you... and just switching characters around) and I said ummmm no?? but thank you for asking nicely?? and then watched their stories like a hawk for a few months, but to my knowledge, they respected what I said and didn't do that 😅

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't and honestly I'm mystified by how people make that work. I've read a number of fics that were co-written by two people and the results are so cool.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I don't like to answer what my all-time anything is because I am indecisive 😭 but at least in terms of writing fic, I've got almost a quarter of a million words published just about Jamie and Claire, so. That answer feels obvious.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oof. I never even posted it, but in my college years, I was vibing very hard with a Smallville au, wrote several chapters, it lived rent free in my mind, and never got around to finishing it. But oh my god the Themes of it all...

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization and theme, I think. I feel like if I know the characters and I know what the themes are, I can cobble together some kind of story.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plotting lol. It's always the joke with fic writing that you have to write a whole story around the one random scene you envisioned, and that's how most of mine start. So figuring out the plot and pacing from there is always a struggle.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I always want to include other languages that are integral to the characters (hi, jamie fraser!), but as someone who regrettably only speaks English, I get so nervous about the fact that I rely on google translate and might get it horrendously wrong and upset someone who actually speaks the language because it's That Bad. 😅 So I usually include what I can and then use indicators when someone is speaking in another language but I'm typing it in English.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh god, I can't remember exactly, but I think the first fandom that I actually wrote and posted a fic for was One Tree Hill (though some of you on twitter might remember the story of 8th grade Anna turning in a chapter of her Alias fanfic for a creative writing assignment, I didn't ever end up posting that story, so that was just for me, my sister, and my 8th grade English teacher, apparently 💀)

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh god. I feel like it changes depending on what I'm working on, honestly. Beside the Seaside has been super self-indulgent and fun to write, but I'm having a love-hate relationship with sharing that one with an audience at the moment. Currently, my favorite one I've written/am still writing is Soften Every Edge - I'm just very pleased with how chapter 1 turned out and loving any time I get to return to that world and that family.

I'm not sure who all has done this already, so no pressure tagging @theawkwardterrier and @behindthelabels