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rcksmith · 4 years ago

Text

Spring breeze part.4 — Spencer Reid

Icon by @obiwansjedi

Part.1 Part.2 Part.3

Sumarry: After the breakup, Spencer and the Reader follow different paths and lives. But, after 8 years, Gideon's death brings an avalanche of emotions, putting the two face to face again in a reencounter that could break their hearts again — season 10 —

Couple: Spencer Reid /Gideon's daughter!reader.

Warnings: mention of death, mention of violence, death of the father, depressive thoughts, murder, crying, swearing, a lot of anguish, mention of love, fluff (but it has a very fluff too, I'm not a monster)

Word count: 5k.

A/N: This is the most sad chapter that has, I promise that the next will be very cute.💖

I saw Gideon's death episode again to make it as faithful as possible for you guys. I used the original Criminal Minds chronology too, being 8 years from Gideon's last appearance until his death.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Let me know if you want to be added for a taglist for a specific fandom (Criminal Minds, The Umbrella Academy, Riverdale, Roman Godfrey, or all)

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

Hunting bandits. Save people. Improve the world a little bit every day. Those were the three things Spencer believed it was worth to be at BAU. It was worth fighting for, holding on, staying sleepless for days, being haunted by murderers by day and nightmares at night. For what it was worth looking at the abyss, even when it looks to you

Reid could deal with human perversion, with the thousand and one ways to practice heinous crimes, the sowing of evil and cruelty. He could cope with constantly being inside insane minds, learning his whys and mechanisms. He could take it. He put up with it day after day, case after case. He endured being tortured, stay being held at gunpoint, having a piece of his essence plucked with red-hot iron month after month. Spencer knew he could handle it.

But he couldn't handle death. Goodbye. It shattered his soul far more than difficult cases, pushed his own sanity to the limit. Perhaps burying his feelings as deeply as possible was just a method of delaying the wave that would drown him at one time or another. Inevitably.

Each farewell took a piece of Reid away. His father, his mother, Ellie, you, Gideon, JJ, were just a few of the people who left, living their lives elsewhere. But what about those who died? The victims, the children, Hayley, Maeve, Emily (even if only for a short time) and so many others. These took much more than a piece of him. Maybe costu his whole soul.

Spencer felt himself harden over the years, the cases, loss after loss, day after loss. He felt the purity of his own heart slip through his fingers like sand, the faith in humanity to be put to the test. Sometimes even faith in himself.

Was that the price to pay for that job? Being constantly vulnerable? See his life and the lives of the people his loved most at gunpoint?

It was worth?

Maeve's death shook him more than any other, sucking all the pink glow from his world, leaving him with only the cold feeling of hopelessness. A very deep void. It took a long time for memories of she not to hurt like red-hot iron, for his breathing not to be heavy. It took a long time to be happy again.

And when Spencer felt healed from the deepest wounds, the most visceral pains, he was hit again. Deeply. If Maeve's death was a wave that brought him down, Gideon's death was the tsunami that destroyed him.

“It's Gideon.” Hotch's voice confirmed the fear of everyone in that cottage.

Then Spencer felt shattered. Torn apart. Torn like a rag doll and placed on the fire. He wanted to scream, to scream so loudly that he would never regain his voice. He wanted to break something, destroy some, run away.

But run away from whom? From what? That pain or himself? If Spencer had been able to tear off his own skin at that time and be someone else, he would not have hesitated. Not having dropped to his knees in that cottage was a miracle, because Spencer no longer knew what was holding him upright.

Jason Gideon, in many ways, was all that Spencer had. He knew that they took different paths and traveled different roads, living different lives, but he believed that they always end up on the same, even one they was old. Spencer was sure that if he was dying on his knees, Gideon would be to rescue him. For all those 8 years, it was extremely comforting to think that Gideon was out there, living life, finding the hope he had in college, finding the brilliance the world had.

And Reid knew that Jason had you. And you had Gideon. That was the most soothing and comforting thought. No matter what, he knew that you would take care of Jason, just like he would take care of you. But now... now Spencer's world had dissolved in the air. Like a sandcastle knocked over by the wind.

And the pain was surreal.

When he realized, he had left the room, close to the... body. If he could, Spencer would have moved away from himself. How would he take it? One more death, another psychopath. How many other people he love will are died at the hands of the work he did every day?

The answer to all of these questions was frightening, and Spencer wasn't sure if wanted them.

The trip to the coroner was the worst Reid had ever done, talking about the body was the worst conversation he had ever had. And when Morgan put his hand on his shoulder and said that he couldn't close himself now, that they were going to get that son of a bitch, all Spencer wanted to say was that he couldn't take it anymore. That he couldn't breathe. The emptiness was too oppressive. So much visceral pain.

But that was not what Spencer said. He just clung to the only lifeguard in the middle of the rough and deserted sea: justice. Gideon deserve it.

Reid doesn't know how he managed to get back to the Gideon’s house, how he managed to hear Hotch and Rossi talking about what could have happened. But he was there, standing, by some miracle.

“Do you know who might want to have done this?” Hotch asked Stephen, who had arrived, his eyes red from the crying he struggled to hold.

“No. I know he had a list of things he wanted to do before he died... That's how we came back to speak, one of the things was to get back in touch.” His voice was so reminiscent of Gideon's that it was stabbed in the heart of Reid.

“Didn't he talk about being chased? Feeling anything strange?” Rossi commented.

Reid watched Stephen's expressions carefully, first because he reminded Gideon a lot, and second because he looked for any clues in his reactions.

Stephen took a second to think before saying: “No, but we both don't keep in touch daily, you know?” He swallowed a sob, probably with regret, but then his eyes lit up with some information: “'But Y/n surely know, they both spoke to each other every day, if my father was thinking differently, surely she know.”

The mention of your name hit Reid with a very different wave. Bringing a very different feeling than it should. At that moment, he felt himself holding the air.

For a second, a lapse of consciousness, Spencer had not connected any of this with your physical presence. The notion that you were Gideon's daughter was obvious but, for some reason, Spencer didn't think about the fact that you were going to be there. That you would share the same air with him again, the same place...

“We will have to call her, bring her here to see if something has been left, or taken. If there is anything important on the scene.” It was Hotch.

“I called her as soon as you guys called me.” Stephen said “She arrived from California the day before yesterday, my father and she were going to travel.” He tried to swallow the crying, his eyes trembling.

"And you weren't going?" Rossi added.

“I have a son and a wife.” He gave a smile broken by the sadness of the mourning “They would stop by before I go… Y/n was going to tell me the news, since our schedules hardly match much, she works as an astronomer in…”

“Caltech.” Spencer completed, without even realizing it, like a thought out loud.

“Yea.” Stephen agreed.

Spencer felt a chill go from head to toe, and another ton of feelings were thrown at his back. The reality that he was going to see you again hit him hard. Like an arrow. Suddenly, Reid wanted to get out of there. Run as far as possible.

He couldn't see you. He had no ability to deal with those feelings now. Not now, when his life was so overwhelmed with emotions for Gideon’s death that he still hadn't dealt Not when you aroused the feeling of... hope. Spencer can’t could hope, of any kind. Not for them to be taken from him with visceral force. Reid was already hurt enough for handling another fall.

“... But I don't think it's a good idea for my sister to be here, anyway.” Stephen continued to speak.

Rossi and Hotch frowned: “Why?”

“They were very connected. Seeing this scene is not going to do her any good...” he sobs this time “Y/n is not like me… she is sentimental, emotional. ”

“As long as you're trying to stay calm, she'll be the opposite.” Hotch completed.

“I just don't want my sister to suffer anymore and...”

But it was too late for Stephen to complete. It was too much for Spencer to escape. It was too late to be born again, in a different life.

A gray car moved forward on the stone road, at too high a speed not to have washed several road fines. That was so much typical of you who hurt Spencer's heart pieces more than he thought possible. More than he thought he could feel at the time. You were always so wild at the wheel. But Reid didn't have time to finish a thought, not even Rossi, Hotch, Morgan who was with them or even Stephen. Because car brutally stopped it, the door opened and…

And it was as if the sun came out from behind the clouds after years. As if summer had finally come after decades of overwhelming winter. In a burst, everything you've ever represented for Spencer has come back for him once again. And he felt the same thing that he felt when he first saw you, 8 years ago. And he was catatonic.

You got out of the car in a very hurried and desperate way. And as much as there were tears in your eyes and redness in cheeks, Spencer has never seen anyone so beautiful. Your hair was longer, in a brighter shade, maybe you had dyed it. Your features were more lyrical and beautiful, and Reid thought that the passage of time had no effect on you. While he considered himself just less clumsy over the years, you proved to be blooming like Romania's most superb rose.

“DAD!” But that was when your desperate voice brought Reid's consciousness back to earth.

You weren't calling your brother, you weren't asking why, you weren't in mourning. You were in denial. Disbelieving. You called out to your father, with the certainty that he would show up. And the despair in your eyes hurt Reid more than being shot.

But before the agents could do anything, you were running towards the house and Stephen ran towards you, taking you in his arms, trying to keep you from getting inside.

“LET ME GO, STEPHEN!” You struggled, trying to get rid of your brother's arms, your hair messing with the wind, tears streaming down your eyes. “They are wrong! It's not our father! Let me fucking go! DAD!”

“Y/n” Stephen had a broken heart in his eyes, some tears streaming down his eyes “You need to calm down before you get in there !”

“LET ME GO!” Yours sobs broke the hearts of the four agents over there “DAD!” You was cryng out, almost like a prayer, in a desperate call.

"He's gone, Y/n.” Your brother kept his arms stronger in you, trying to contain you while you struggle in trying to break free and go inside the house, under the illusion that you would find your father there.

“NO!” Now your crying was continuous “I spoke to him yesterday! It's not him, Stephen!” Then your brother turned you to him, holding you tight, and you melted into a visseral pain “It can't be him!”

“I know...” he sobbed, looking at you with the same shared pain “I know...”

So you gave yourself up to a painful, loud and desperate crying, the kind that won't let you breathe. And, unlike Reid, you fallen down. Your knees found the stone and grass floor, your hands clasped on Stephen's shirt, who knelt on the floor with you, delivered the pain you both shared.

You knew what your father's risks were in working in such a dangerous profession. Expose yourself to constant and frightening danger. You always knew about the risks, you just tried to ignore them all your life, sinking your fears about your father not coming home at night. Then, when he let the BAU, that fear dissipated. You felt a colossal weight being lifted off your shoulders, like tons of lead, and you let go of a fear so great that you didn't even know you had it.

For 8 years you thought that the chances of him not coming home were over, that the chances of seeing him the next day had increased dramatically. For 8 years you two traveled together, stopping at every type of diner for milkshake, chocolate ice cream and mint - his favorites - For 8 years you had your best friend, the only thing you knew you had in the world. You always knew that if you were drowning in the ocean, it would be your father who would give his lungs for you to breathe.

You didn't see a life without Gideon.

For you, you were crying for hours in what one day was your father's backyard, totally devastated, but for the rest of the world it was a matter of minutes.

Your sobs were so loud and real that Hotch and Rossi caught themselves with watery eyes, perfectly understanding the pain you were going through, the devastation. The two had lost many people, many of them being essential pieces to be able to continue breathing. Many of them felt wounds that would never heal.

But it was Rossi who approached you, the pain at the top of his throat, his mind wandering the day Gideon said he was going to have a little girl. Unlike Stephen, Rossi never saw you in person, but the sparkle in Jason's eyes whenever he talked about you, or with you on the phone, was enough to know that you were one of the essential pieces to keep breathing.

“Hi, my name is Rossi.” He knelt in front of you and your face went towards him, your cheeks and nose as red as your eyes.

“M-my dad talked about you."” You were still sobbing, slowly letting go of Stephen's shirt.

"Good things, I hope.” The two of you laughed like a sigh, and soon the pain returned to your eyes in a visseral way. “I know this is not fair, and I know it is asking too much, but I need you to go inside and try to find something out of place. Something that whoever did this to your father may have taken or left. ”

You closed your eyes in pain, tears streaming as you sobbed. Your hands, trembling and cold, went to your face, perhaps trying to hide from reality, perhaps wiping away tears. Maybe both. When you looked back at Rossi again, you saw the pain in his eyes too.

"I don't know if I can do it.” You admitted, your voice shaking.

"I know.” Rossi took his hand to yours, squeezing comfortingly “But only you can help us now, help other daughters not lose their father to the same killer. Being inside in the house can bring information that is in your subconscious. I promise you will make it, we will all be here with you.”

His handshake got stronger, and it reminded you of your father. That should have been the same way he comforted the victims' relatives, the way he was supposed to act with people.

'Everyone is somebody's son.' That's what Gideon said. It hit you like an atomic bomb. And, for a moment, you thought it was possible to die of sadness.

You squeezed Rossi's hand tightly, as if you were looking for courage. When you opened eyes again, you gave a weak nod. Carefully, as if any sudden movement is capable of causing you more pain, you stood up, your legs wobbly, your heart bleeding, sadness clouding your vision. Rossi put his hand behind your back, in a way to make sure him were there, as an anchorage in reality that would not let you get lost in the valley of sadness and pain.

As you walked up to the house, you didn't see the other agents, you didn't see the trees, the cars. At that time, you didn't even know what color the sky was anymore. It was like a suspended moment, when the world is in slow motion, the hemisphere is terrified. The sadness was palpable in the breeze, in the way that the rays of the sun did not reach the ground. The whole land looked like mourning.

As soon as you stepped inside the house, the smell of home and Gideon hit your nose, and you felt your face tighten in an expression of pure pain. You didn't notice the agents coming in behind you, you didn't notice Penelope and JJ. You just saw the furniture, the decor, his stuff. As if Gideon had just left for the market and was going to come back.

Everything was in was there. Minus the most important thing: him.

You did not notice when Rossi left you, you did not notice who approached. Everything was in a haze of pain.

But that's when you saw the strong blood marks on the floor, stuck to the wood with possession. A cold shiver as sighed from death ricocheted through your entire body, bristling all over your skin. In a burst, like the bursting of a violin string, the mist dissipated, the state of tupor burst, and reality hit you with overwhelming force.

And then the plug fell.

Jason Gideon had died.

You fell again, barely noticing the sobs and loud crying starting to come out again, the most desperate and painful in you life. But this time the arms that took you were different, bringing with you sensations that you haven't felt in a long time. That a long time ago you forgot that you could feel.

They were long, thin, and contained a vigor hidden beneath the thin facade. The smell of his presence was… heaven. That feeling was your anchorage on the high seas, in the valley of despair, and you clung to him for fear of drowning, of not finding your way back home.

You didn't have to see it to know who it was.

You turned to the arms that took you, now Spencer kneels with you on the floor, and you cried in a way that you never cried before, with a visseral pain. Your hands went to the brown cardigan he wore, closing there as if the fabric was your only chance for salvation.

So you looked at the immensity of the his brown irises.

"He was the only thing I had, Spen.” You sobbed loudly with the crying, gently swaying his coat, your voice utterly torn.

Spencer felt his eyes sting, his throat lock and the remains of what was his heart ache in a hideous way.

“I know.” He felt a tear run down his left cheek, his hands on your arms.

At this time, the two of you supported each other. Gideon meant a lot to you two. An irreplaceable role in yours life. And Spencer knew that was what you were talking about when you said:

"He was the only thing we both had.” You closed your eyes, your hands still firmly on his coat, your heart pounding.

But this time Spencer's voice was just as broken when he said: “I know.”

Then he hugged you.He hugged you for everything. He hugged you because it was a pain that only you two could understand. He hugged you because you needed it, and because he needed too.

Jason Gideon had a special connection with you two, a connection that only the two of you had ever experienced. Each relationship with Gideon was different, special in different ways, but only the two of you had him as a protector, mentor, a much more paternal and confidant figure. He was the kind of person you could leave your life in his hands, the kind who would teach you the secret of the worlds, show you what goodness was and at the same time strength. And you two had that.

You stained Reid's coat with tears, and Reid stained you with the strong smell he had. He stepped far enough away to be able to see your face perfectly, at a considerable distance, and, against everything he had ever done before with anyone, he took your face in his hands, his eyes fixed on your in pain shared.

“We will catch how did it.” Reid assured you, as if he had tattooed this words on your skin. You closed your eyes in pain, but he brought you back “Hey, keep looking at me."

So you did it. Because you would always follow Spencer. To hell if he asked.

"Don't take your eyes off mine, okay?” His voice was so sweet, so gentle, and you couldn't have done anything but agree. “When was the last time you spoke to Gideon?”

“Yesterday.” You replied “We were going to travel to the beach today, I took a vacation from work.”

“Was he at home when you two talked?”

The team looked at each other, with several questions in those look.

You denied it, the hiccup now because of the shortness of breath you had because of the crying.

“He stopped at Roanoke for...” and that's when you seemed to remember something.

Your eyes widened softly, your lips trembled, and you let out a stammering sigh as you try to remember something very important.

“What do you remember?” Spencer stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, trying to calm the beating of your heart that went back to being frantic and making you focus on the question, not the sea of emotions you felt.

“He…” was when your eyes fluttered before meeting Reid's again. “He said he saw a woman on the news who was found dead. And ... and that he had to make sure of one thing ”

Rossi looked at Hotch, who gave an attentive and objective expression.

“Did he tell you why?” His eyes closed again and you sobbed. Reid moved closer, bringing your face back in his direction again “Look at me, Y/n.”

As soon as you did, he gave you a gentle smile, but contained all the pain in the world. He understood what you were felling.

“Why was he interested in the case?” He changed the question.

“I-it was something about...” you searched in your mind “Girl named Tara. I don’t know. He mentioned about a blue butterfly tattoo on her ankle as well, and that it was something to do with a… a case or something.”

“1978” Rossi interrupted and everyone looked at him “Gideon and I worked on a case in 1978, the suspect was never caught and Tara was a teenager who we thought had been kidnapped by him. The killer left dead birds in the hands of the victims ”

“But he didn't mention birds and...” That's when your eyes, fluttering, darted around the room and you stopped abruptly.

Spencer turned his attention to you again, seeing that you were staring somewhere. His hands slowly left your face and he asked:

“What?”

“The board.” You pointed to your father's board, which had a beautiful brown bird.

“Does say anything to you?” Rossi turned his attention to you.

You shook your head, your body too exhausted to go to the painting and examine it.

“He shot the board.” You looked at the agents “My father loved that painting, he never would have done that. Even though my father is stunned, he has the best aim I have ever seen.”

“The devil is in the details." Rossi went to the pinting and, after two seconds, turned to the team and said “I already know who did this.”

You let out a gigantic sigh of relief as the agents split up to continue the case, speaking so fast that you couldn't keep up.

“I helped?” You looked at Spencer, tears still shining in your eyes.

He smiled and nodded “Very.”

But when he got up, you took his hand, making Reid turn his attention back to you again, a questioning look on his face.

“You're going to get it, aren't you?” The sob invaded your voice "Promise me that you will catch him, Spen."

Reid took his hand in your, giving you a strong, comforting squeeze before saying:

"I will. I promise.”

And then he left, along with the other agents.

- - -

You thought you knew what pain was, the loss, the tightness in the heart. You thought that your many relationship breakdowns showed you what it was like to suffer. But you have never been so wrong. None of that compared to how you were now, to what you felt.

You would trade that feeling for anything in the world.

This was terrible. A cold, coercive, brutal and cruel feeling. As if you were at the bottom of a black ocean, unable to breathe, falling deeper and deeper, consumed by the overwhelming cold of the water.

It was impossible to say in words how you felt. But if it were you had to define it in one word you would say: pain. A pain that bends you, a pain that makes you want to scream, that pierces your lungs so that it is not possible to breathe, but that even so, you fight for air.

It was pain at its rawest, most brutal, sharp and atrocious like a dagger blade. You would go through Dante's hells for eternity instead of living one day with that pain.

Since Spencer and the agents went after the person in charge, you have sat on the steps of the front door, watching the nature, the shaking of the trees, but your attention was so far, far away. Perhaps unattainable.

Gideon always loved watching the seasons go by, and in that moment, you wondered if looking at the same thing he looked at every day would make you feel close to him. Feel with him. It had only been three days since you last saw him, when he picked you up at the airport, but you felt like you were past three lives. How would you go without it? How were you able to think of living without it?

You pulled your knees up against your chest, hugging your legs, the metallic, atrocious and icy taste of devastation stuck to yours in your mouth. The trees shook hard, forcing the birds to fly away, but you didn't feel cold. You were not feeling the cold breeze hit your body, nor were your muscles contracting in exhaustion from the hard wood of the steps you were sitting on.

The hunger, the cold, the heat or the craving could not reach you, as if the pain had paralyzed all your system. Probably your soul.

You didn't see when Stephen put father's blanket over your shoulders, nor did you hear his sobs for seeing you so devastated. But you smelled Gideon, and the warmth of the blanket was like having his arms around you again. Then the rest of the water in your body found its way to your eyes and crying was as automatic as breathing.

You were clinging to Spencer taking the son of a bitch who did it, trying to chase away any other thoughts that weren't about that. You didn't want to think about what would happen after he was caught. Which meant his capture for you. It would bring justice to Gideon, honoring his name, his life, but it wouldn't bring him back. What was taken from you would not be repaired, regardless of the end of that damned man.

When he was caught, you would have nothing else to focus on instead.

You don't know how long you stayed there. Hours? Days? The those peach and gold tones in the sky is from dusk or the dawn of a new day?

You had lost track of time, as if your watch had stopped since the time Gideon died.

The sound of cars on the road was the only thing that pulled you out of your fucking valley, and as soon as the black SUVs stopped, you stood up as if you had been waiting your whole life for that moment. The blanket fell from your shoulders, heart accelerated at an alarming rate, and for a second, everything was gone from your mind.

Rossi was the first to get out of the car, but yours eyes darted to Reid. You wanted to run, ask what had happened, listen to the answers. But you were paralyzed in place. Afraid of the truth, of reality.

What would become of you after that news?

Spencer came towards you without hesitation, and you couldn't take your eyes off him for a second. He didn't say anything, nor did he explain anything. It was not needed. The way he reached out his hand and placed your father's rings in your palm were enough answers.

Your whole body shook and you looked at Reid with more emotions than askers.

"He is dead." He told you, and it made you fall down again.

But this time you fell into his hugging, clinging to him in despair. There were many meanings in that embrace: gratitude, relief, fear, pain and grief. And Spencer hugged you back in the same way.

You two stayed that way for a while, even when the agents went to talk to Stephen, even when Garcia and JJ left the house, even when the cold wind hit you both.

“Thanks." You heard yourself say it, and Spencer shook his head, signaling that it wasn't necessary, and the two of you moved away.

So you went to Rossi, and hugged him too. In that second, Rossi could feel Gideon in that hug, and it took a second to not cry.

“Your father was a great man." He told you when the two of you walked away, and you agreed on a sad smile.

"He was." You looked down at the rings in your hand, staying a second there before turning to the agents and saying: “You guys are going to the funeral, aren't you? I ... my dad would like it w-very much.”

"Of course." Rossi guaranteed it.

As they walked away and went back to the car, heading for their own houses, your eyes met Spencer's and he whispered in the air to you:

“I will see you at the funeral."

You nodded, giving you a sad, grateful smile. And while everyone was leaving and you were looking at the rings in your hand again, you had a feeling that your story with Spencer had just started over.

A/n: I also lost a very important person to death, and for everyone who went through it too, I mean that no one is alone! My message box is open if you need anything! Love you❤️

Tagged @gublersuvula

@peculiarinsomniac

@measure-in-pain

@nobutalsoyes

🍒 @misshale21

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honney-boy · 4 years ago

Text

Wonder (Part 1)

Rudy Pankow x Oc!Reader

gif by → @riobeth

Wonder Series Masterlist | Wonder Playlist

Chapter summary: Rudy and Nevaeh meet in person for the first time and things aren’t awkward. Yougurt cups, bananas and ice blended in a cup and maple syrup.

Full Summary and Story Concept

Warning(s): language, shenanigans, jet laggness, social media zombies, teenage girls

Words: 5k+

A/N: This is my first attempt at a Rudy fic. My first series too! But if this flops, let's pretend it never happened, okay? :) But If you guys want to read more, please do let me know. Your love and support is the encouragement I need. I got the concept from tik tok haha. Fair warning, I am handwriting out chapters with a pen and paper before converting it digitally, so updates with be spread out. THERE WILL BE GRAMMAR MISTAKES! I'm human, and Tumblr is my test run for this series. Anywho, hope you enjoy :)

taglist

One | “Social Zombies”

In Nevaeh's opinion, airports were the worst. It wasn't due to the 38,000 feet in the air flying ride or the nothingness in the sky you see your whole flight; it was the people, the airports themselves, and the limited space.

Airports were much worse than flying - especially the San Francisco International Airport. Also known as SFO Airport. The few times, literally very few times, Nevaeh has been to the airport, she had poor experiences. Now, SFO Airport is definitely smaller than LAX and not as busy - it's a nightmare. You would think with a much smaller airport, there would be fewer crowds, but no, it's like a family reunion every day but with strangers. If you bump into the wrong person, your day on the off chance will get ruined.

Along with the busy crowds, there are many places to eat. From pizza to Italian to pie, your choices are endless. That's until half or more restaurants are closed or have long lines. Nevaeh never ate airport food, so she couldn't give her opinion on it. She'll leave that to the professional reviews. She wasn't at SFO Airport to judge the food or traffic flow, not even the staff's attitude - except she already gave a flight attendant a glare. The flight attendant took a bathroom break before their next flight and griped at Nevaeh because she used the last paper towel so they couldn't dry their hands. Air drying is a thing, and it works well, she thought to herself while leaving the restroom. She was not going to let one grumpy flight attendant ruin her great mood. She was going to meet someone who she hopes is special today.

Over the past two months, Nevaeh and this person had gotten to know each other well, virtually, that is. They met online, and Nevaeh lived in San Francisco while they lived in Alaska. Countless messages, facetime calls, photos, and videos were exchanged, and a bond was formed. Who would have thought that two people could meet through a video sharing social media app and hit it off? Most people start with dating apps, meet and get to know different people, but Nevaeh met them all because a video of hers popped up on their for you page.

Nevaeh created and shared a variety of things on the app. From cooking to creating and her little hobby of disco skating. She wanted to keep her followers and supporters entertained and herself; she didn’t want to be stuck, making the same content, so she did many things. Nevaeh thought maybe one of her disco skating, videography, or cooking videos drew them in, but it was one of her mini vlogs. In the video, she showed how she would scout places before spending the day getting footage for a short montage film or scenes for a movie she is working on. Not long after the discovery, they - he sent her a message asking about a more in-depth explanation of her process, and it went up from there.

Now, after all this time of them chatting back and forth, they get to meet. Nevaeh gets to meet him.

Standing by the arrival gate, her eyes bouncing around the room at different things just to keep her mind centered and not all over the place. She wanted to pick at her nails, or hold her hands to her chest but she couldn’t hold them in place for long; she opted for playing with the white beaded bracelet he bought and sent to her in a box full of other things. It was so sweet of him; just thinking about the box she received makes her smile and her heart swell. Just last week she received a box full of thoughtful gifts. Inside were some of her favorite snacks, a movie she loved, one of his hoodies - it was the hoodie he wore the first time they facetimed. The hoodie was one of his favorites, but he had the urge to send it to her, he just wanted her to have it. And finally was the white beaded bracelet with a single aqua blue bead on it - he had the matching one with all aqua beads and one single black bead. She was having an uncreative and pretty shitty day until that box arrived on the front door step of her shared apartment.

“I wanted to surprise you, so I messaged Birdie asking her for your favorite snacks, I added the hoodie and got the two of us distance bracelets. You know, because we are long distance.” He told her later that day when they talked on the phone.

“Until you come here, or I go there,” she replied. She hasn’t stopped wearing the hoodies since and she has had the bracelet on since the moment she got it.

Nevaeh watched different people walk past her; none of them were him yet. The dirty blond mess he sported for hair shouldn't be that hard to miss, but the longer she searched, the more she doubted her assumption.

It was another couple of minutes that went by, and she didn't see him, so she pulled her phone out to see if he had sent something. Maybe he has to catch a different flight, and he forgot to tell her, or perhaps he didn't want to meet after all. Her fingers type out a message to send, but a figure stands in front of her before she hits the send button. Nevaeh could see the shadow of their body from her peripheral vision, but she did not look up, hoping they would go away - but they didn't. Sending her message, the woman was preparing to turn away until she heard the stranger's phone go off. It's just a coincidence that their phone went off a couple of seconds after I sent a message. She said to herself, then she looked up and there he was. Dirty blond hair - a little long all over, but instead of it being in his face like it always is, it was pushed back and tucked underneath a red cap. His eyes were more lovely in person. The pair ranged from a light blue to gray, depending on the day. Today they were light blue. He sported stubble across his chin and cheeks with a blond mustache above his top lip. He wore nothing flashy, just a simple red ACDC sweatshirt, cargo shorts, and a pair of vans. He looked tired, but that didn't throw off the good vibes and smile he had going on. She couldn't help but smile back. He's here in the flesh. Rudy.

"Hi," he said light-heartedly, breaking the silence.

"Hi," she echoed; the smile on her face grew some more. "Wow, you're really here in the flesh."

He chuckled, and the sound woke up the butterflies in her stomach. "Yeah, I am. And you...the pictures and videos don't do enough justice for the actual thing." His eyes scan over her, noticing the navy blue Hilfiger sweatshirt he sent to her. Nevaeh couldn't help the dust of blush that appeared on her cheek.

“Talk about me, what about you? Who knew those Snapchat filters were hiding such a god-like person.”

“Oh, stop, you’re making me blush,” he joked while bashful. No matter online or in person, Nevaeh was still able to get him flushed; it was something he didn’t want to admit, not while he was flying blind with this.

Nevaeh smiled and had a tiny giggle; the full laugh was muffled by the hand she brought up to her mouth in an attempt to hold the sound back. He could watch her smile for a while. Is that weird? “How was your flight? I hope it wasn’t too horrible.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” he admitted. “Definitely long, but nothing a pair of earbuds, music, and a couple of movies couldn’t fix.” The two quickly began walking toward the direction of baggage claim. More of Rudy just following whichever direction Nevaeh was going. She did know the airport better anyway.

“Which movies did you watch?” she asked.

“Since I had six hours to waste - Joker, 1917 and Pride & Prejudice.”

“Oh, I see you listened to my suggestions; not surprised you watched Joker again,” Rudy shrugged his shoulders with a hum. “I’m surprised you didn’t watch the Harry Potter movies.”

Rudy rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Actually, I already watched them a couple of days ago,” Nevaeh hummed as if she were to say, ‘of course’ “You can judge me all you want. I won’t pay you any mind. Just the same as I did with the guy that had the aisle seat in my row. I guess other guys find it weird that a guy decided to watch a period drama on a flight.”

“He was just jealous he didn’t think of it first. Mr. Darcy’s pinning for Miss. Bennett and the film’s overarching theme is too good not to watch.”

“That it is, who would want to miss the warnings heeded against trusting one’s first impression or prejudices?”

“Or the character arcs that grow throughout the storyline. I pity that aisle sitting man.”

“I do too,” Rudy agreed. “He missed out on a classic and had to get up to let the other person and me out to take a tinkle.” He did it again. He made her laugh genuinely. The conversation between them flowed. The small worry Nevaeh had earlier about the two of them not being able to continue the light-hearted and enjoyable nature they had over text had diminished. He seemed just the same - goofy, charismatic, charming, and caring - as he was over the phone the past month and a half. She, too, was still kind, compassionate, and sarcastic as before. Yet both of them had their own doubts about the thing they were doing; they didn’t know what it was or where it was headed, but they were willing to find out.

In the car, Nevaeh drove the route she knew from the airport to her shared apartment. Rudy sat in the passenger seat; his gaze focused out the window, watching the San Francisco scenery appear, disappear and morph as they passed by the window. The radio played while they sat in a comfortable silence - it impressed her how easily they fell into it. Wasn't it common for an uncomfortable silence? Two people who just met for the first time should struggle in an attempt to make a conversation, but not them.

To Rudy, the comfortable silence was almost expected. Granted, he did expect one of them to talk the other's ear off - he's glad neither of them was. The six-hour flight took its effect on the man, but he wasn't going to let his fatigue ruin the time they had together. He'll rest later. Spend time with her now, sleep later.

The car rolled to a stop, a red light shined on the traffic light hanging in front of them. Rudy's eyes watch a girl across the street riding down the sidewalk on a skateboard. Her stance relaxed, feet planted in a way that helped her ride easily; she was experienced, probably skated regularly. Watching her skate triggered a longing in Rudy for his board back at home. He rides on concrete and in the snow, but he was missing snowboarding the most. It was beginning to be summer, so the temperatures in Alaska were warmer. To warm for snow but warm enough for the evergreen to take over. Now he was in California, the state that was sunny all the time. The state that thrived in the summer and its soil hardly ever to never had the chilled touch of snow. His longing grew more for the chilly weather and white flakes.

The woman sitting next to him took the next couple of seconds between the light change to look at him. Catching the moment of his gaze out the window of her jeep. "I know you're probably tired from your flight. I had some ideas about the things we could do, but we don't have to do anything today." She spoke and after, glanced at the traffic light only to see it was still red.

Rudy tore his gaze from the distant image of the skater and met Nevaeh's. "I am, but if you want to do something, we can. I'm more than happy to hang out." He said.

Trying to reason, she said, "I know, but you just got off a six-hour flight."

"Nevaeh, it's fine. I'm not that burned out. Time zones are an hour apart, and seven am isn't that bad." she begins to give him a skeptical look. She heard his words but feels as if he was only saying that to make her happy. He sat by her, leaned back, and relaxed. His head sat lazily against the headrest, and the smile he was giving her was light but tiresome. She switched her gaze from him to the traffic light, which turned green, and she didn't know when. Nevaeh eased her foot off the brake and to the gas pedal. "Seriously, we can do something."

“Fine,” She says after a moment. “I won’t wear you out too much more.” Flicking her left turn signal on after checking her mirror, she merges into the lane beside her. “There’s somewhere I wanna take you - well, maybe two places, but we’re going to the apartment first.”

“Alright, sounds good to me.” Nevaeh drove them to the apartment she shared with her long term friend. Rudy followed behind her as she led the way; they only spent a few minutes there. After a short tour, a bathroom break, and dropping off a couple of suitcases later, Rudy and Nevaeh left the place. They began a walk along the San Francisco hills to the mysterious place Nevaeh had in mind.

“This place is somewhere I walk to every other day. It’s Birdie’s and my favorite place.” It was a short six to eight-minute walk. Nevaeh reassured him before briefly going into a conversation about the impressive things you see in the city. Just like Nevaeh told him, they both come up upon a corner shop with a couple of large windows to see inside and out, a brown exterior with outside tables with green umbrellas and foldable outdoor chairs. The corner shop was known as the Nasik Cafe. For a small cafe, the place was doing well. There were a handful of people inside sitting, chatting, or ordering and quite a few sitting outside.

“This place is pretty health-oriented, and like Starbucks, it has things you could make at home for free, but their stuff is great,” Nevaeh explained to the man.

"So you spend way too much on yogurt cups, fruit drinks, toast, and other food you can make at home?" She nods her head like it was evident at what he said. Rudy shook his head. "Couldn't you just spend ten dollars on a yogurt cup?"

"Oh my goodness, they don't have yogurt cups, Rudy." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Okay, so ten dollars for a banana blended with ice in a cup - still sounds ridiculous to me."

"I can't with you," She tilted her head back, but she wasn't annoyed. She found his witticism amusing. At this rate, Nevaeh should prepare to always smile all the time around him. "You should find a table out here, and I can grab us something - wait, do you want to sit out here?"

Rudy nodded, then began to scan the area but only briefly seeing a couple of empty tables. "Yeah, it's nice out, let's enjoy it. Out here is great."

"Great," she says, pleased. "I'll grab something; I wanna surprise you. I'll be back." Nevaeh turns to walk inside. The smell of strawberries, oranges, and granola invaded her nose. It wasn't a new smell to her, but a new one for the day. She would always smell fruit and granola wherever she would walk into Basik. Some days it smelt like bananas and chocolate, or honey, peanut butter, and coconut. The smells varied, but the most prominent one was the tropical smell. To her left at a table was a couple enjoying smoothies. Both cops were a little under half full. A person sat at another table, invested in their laptop. To her right, more people sat. Art adorns the walls as realism paintings along with abstract images. There was a line at the counter; no more than four people stood waiting. She took the time to look up at the big and wide wood board hanging from the ceiling. When Nevaeh told Rudy she wanted to surprise him with something, she knew what she was getting for the both of them. The colorful and fruitful acai bowls.

Nevaeh and her roommate Birdie loved acai bowls. Birdie was the one to introduce her friend to the fantastic bowls she grew to love. Now it was her turn to turn another friend onto them.

The line moved along smoothly and grew smaller by the minutes. Once Nevaeh got closer, her lips stretched into a grin as her eyes caught sight of the barista.

"Hi, what can I get you? Could I interest you in our new fall to-Vae! Hey." the blonde barista's mood brightened significantly when she realized she was taking Nevaeh's order. She leaned across the counter and grabbed hold of Nevaeh's hand, and laced their fingers together. "What are you doing here? I thought you had to pick up your friend." She said, then making finger quotations. The barista was her roommate, Birdie. Birdie was a full-time college student and full-time barista to get by. She was more than happy to talk to her friend now that she wasn't as busy - Nevaeh was the only person in line for now.

"I was - I did pick up my friend. No air quotes, we're friends."

"For now."

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes at the blonde. "He's here with me, just outside." Birdie looked past Nevaeh and out the window in search of this guy. Nevaeh looked around for him, too; she didn't get to see where he chose to sit. "He's...the one with the red cap, right there." She pointed out once she spotted him. Birdie hummed and squinted her eyes to get a better look, which was difficult with the angle he sat at.

"He looks nice...from here," Birdie leaned back, so her fingers could let go of Nevaeh's and tap the terminal screen as she put her friend's usual order in. While Birdie did that, Nevaeh nodded in agreement but kept her gaze on him. "Lemme guess, the usual?"

"Kilauea; everything but-"

"No pollen and extra honey." Birdie finished with assuredness and not a drop of doubt in her answer. Her friend smiled, her eyes looking to Birdie with amazement.

"You know me too well."

"Well, you order the same thing almost every time."

"Touche," she couldn't argue with that. When it came to her acai bowl, she liked the Kilauea - made with mango juice, granola, berries, papaya, honey, and acai - the best. "And water, of course - make that two." She stepped back to look over the menu. Rudy wasn't familiar with the place, and he didn't know what they served, so Nevaeh wanted to get him something he hopefully liked. She decided to go with something not too fancy - directing her attention back to her barista friend. She went ahead and finished her order. "And...let me get the Islander acai bowl." That one was made with hemp mylk, granola, banana, berries, cocoa shavings, and honey.

Birdie rang up the rest of the order for Nevaeh. After catching a glimpse at the total, Nevaeh reached in the little card pocket of her wallet and grabbed her card. Unbeknownst to her, while she was getting her card, Birdie took her name tag and gave her friend her employee discount - she got it for half the price.

“I know you’re an independent woman and paying for the first date, the least I could do is give you a discount. Just don’t tell Daniel.” She winked, and Nevaeh gave her a thumbs up with one hand, and with the other, she made a zipping and locking motion over her mouth before throwing the key.

Outside, Rudy sat at the table he picked out for the two of them while waiting. While Nevaeh ran inside to get their order, he observed the small San Francisco scenery around him. California weather was sunshine with fluffy clouds. Just about everyone was either in shorts, a tank, and a cut-off shirt or any other summer clothing that provided them some comfort in the blazing sun. He dressed just right for the weather, though in Alaska, it was more on the chill side, causing him to wear a sweatshirt while he left. Now that he was basking in the California weather, he took off the warm sweatshirt and left it at Nevaeh’s apartment.

There were other people outside along with him. A group of girls sat a few feet away at a table in front of him, trying not to giggle as they attempted to make a video. At another table, there were two guys, perhaps brothers. They were eating something colorful from a bowl - it looked like yogurt to Rudy - and having a conversation with one another.

Rudy shook his head at the drastic difference between the two tables. Maybe it was just him, but it was amazing how much the world - more specifically America- was wrapped up in technology and social media. Sure the brothers at the one table had digital watches that told them the time and lit up, catching their attention with a vibrate when a text or notification went to their phone. But at least they could carry on a conversation without having their phone in their hands. On the other hand, those girls haven’t put their phones down longer than a few seconds. After those seconds, they tap away or show the other something they thought was worthy enough to gauge a reaction out of them.

Rudy wasn't one to judge. He didn't have much right to because while watching them and waiting for Nevaeh, he had the urge to pull out his phone. It was almost like a habit, but he chooses not to feed the temptation. He wanted to enjoy the day with Nevaeh; notice the burn on his skin from the sun, get to know her, have fun, pick up on little cues she has, and find out what he likes the most about her. And though it was kind of ironic that the two of them met through social media, he hopes Nevaeh is not one of those social zombies. Then this trip would be a waste of time and effort.

Ruby pulled his sunglasses down due to the sun starting to bother his eyes. Then he also wanted to cover his eyes and focus on something else while he waited. A minute later, Nevaeh walked out of the cafe's door backward with her back pushing the door open. In her hands, she had what she ordered; he wondered what she got. Rudy briskly stood up out of his seat to help her out.

"Hey, let me help you out," he walks around the table towards her, but she only nods him off.

"I got it, you sit."

"You have all the food and drinks in your hands; it's the least I can do." he stood off to the side, not interfering but reading despite what she said. He watches her struggle a bit and almost drops the stuff. Rudy immediately reached out, but Nevaeh had already saved herself and looked at him with a smile.

"I got it, Rudy. I was just pulling your leg." He picked up on the playfulness in her eyes, which made him pull his lips into a smile matching hers; her smile is definitely contagious.

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands, backing away and then taking his seat. Nevaeh took her seat across from him, sat everything down before passing him the items she got him. “What’d you get us?”

“Well, I don’t know if you have had this before, but it’s my go-to thing to get here. It’s an acai bowl,” Nevaeh’s eyes caught his confused expression before he tried to cover it up with an understanding. She laughed softly and explained further. “It’s like a smoothie bowl with other things in it.”

“Smoothie bowl…” he murmured more to himself, but she still heard it.

Shaking her head, she continued. “Acai palm is the main ingredient along with bananas and granola, but you can add other fruits or peanut butter and syrups. Or take things off.”

“Like maple syrup?” he asked, looking at the acai bowl she got him.

Her face begins to twist in disgust until she covers it with a shrug and looks down at her bowl, ready to dig in. “Uh, I guess if that’s what you want, then yeah.” She answered, and Rudy nodded his head and grabbed his spoon to take a taste. Before Nevaeh tasted her own, she watched Rudy, waiting for his reaction. He took a bite, letting the flavor invade his taste buds.

“Wow, this is good,” He says after swallowing. He glanced up, catching Nevaeh already looking at him. She quickly looked away and stirred her bowl.

“I’m glad you like it; it’s my second favorite one,” she peeked back up, and Rudy was still looking at her. Laughing softly to herself, then shaking her head, she takes a bite of her own, almost moaning at the taste. “I’m surprised you haven’t had one before.”

“ I have wanted to try one, but never really went with actually going out to get one.”

“Well, maybe now you will get them more often,” She says but stops herself before taking another bite. “Wait...you aren’t allergic to any fruit, are you? Or granola?”

He lifted a brow while getting another scoop. “Oh, only bananas,” He replies. Nevaeh watches him as he lifts the spoon to his mouth and takes another bite that includes bananas before she could reach across the table and stop him in time. “What?” he looked at her. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear, her mouth opening to say something but closed when nothing came out. “Is there something wrong?”

Nodding her head slowly, she sat down her spoon and reached for her phone in her pocket just in case. "You ate a banana, and you just told me you were allergic to them." Nevaeh wanted to yell at him for being so careless, but that would mean she was too for not asking before ordering something random for him. She pretended to remain calm but was internally panicking.

"I actually eat them all the time," he held back the smile easing its way into his features. "I eat them quite often. They're a great source of potassium and vitamin C."

"So you aren't allergic to bananas?" she noted, and Rudy shook his head. His mouth broke out into the smile he managed to hold back for a few seconds. Nevaeh relaxed a bit, her shoulders dropping as she was no longer tense. "You're an asshole, you know that, right?" Rudy gasped softly, a hand placed on his chest as he looked at her, offended at her comment.

"What, me, an asshole? That can't be right, I'm really nice," he said and made Nevaeh huffed. "What do you not believe me?"

The woman shrugged, the smile still on her face when she looked down at her food. "Well, you did play a mean joke just now; I thought I almost killed you." She reminded him and picked at her bowl.

"I wanted to see how caring you were, and you passed the test. Now you love me, don't you?"

"You wish," she said, taking a bite then pointing at him with her spoon. "We're going on a road trip together, let's see if I survive that, then I'll let you know if I like you enough to be your friend or jump out of a moving car because you're an annoying little shit."

Rudy raised his eyebrows, smirking at her now. "Me being an annoying little...alright. Let's make a deal," he starts; Nevaeh gestures for him to continue. "If you survive this road trip, meaning - if you have a great time - I get to take you to my home town in Alaska. Ah, ah. I'm not finished." he held his finger up to stop her from making a comment. She rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, attempting to hide a simple, but you could see the amusement on her face. "If you don't have a great time, I'll do whatever you want."

"So, If I understand right, If you win, you get to take me to Alaska - assuming I haven't been there already,"

“Wait, you’ve been to Alaska?” Nevaeh held her finger up, echoing his movements moments before.

“If you win, you take me to Alaska, and if I win, you do whatever I want, correct?”

“Yeah, as long as it’s not too inappropriate or impossible,” He says, already finished with his acai bowl, which Nevaeh didn’t remember seeing him eat the rest. It didn’t matter when he ate it, she didn’t care, but that was quick. Looking down at her own, she wasn’t more than halfway done. “So, so we have a deal?”

Nevaeh looked up from her food, meeting his ocean-like eyes. The pair were becoming more familiar over the past few weeks from countless photos and videos the two have shared over Snapchat. Messages over text and facetime calls. They got to know each other digitally, and now they have to learn more in person.

��We have a deal.” She says, and Rudy sticks his hand out, which she gladly took. They shook hands. While doing so, Rudy thought of a million possibilities to get the woman across from him to a great time and not just so he could take her to Alaska, his home. He found her intriguing, and he wants to take the time to get to know her better and maybe have a solid standing friendship at the end of it all. If the cosmos had a say, perhaps something more would blossom.

➣ End Note:

So, I honestly don’t know how the next few or future chapters will go but hopefully they turn out well. Here are the Revaeh interactions we all needed and plenty more to come so just you wait. ;)

AGAIN IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE THE SERIES I WILL, JUST LET ME KNOW.

Wonder Taglist:

@Scooby6, @ifilwtmfc, @rudypankowswife, @themaddies-obx

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#rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow x oc #rudy pankow series #rudy pankow fanfiction #wonder series #rudy pankow au #Outer Banks #outer banks netflix #roadtrip story #tik tok dating

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filippoinzaghi · 4 years ago

Note

1, 2, and 4 pls!

1.Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

So I have four main projects at the moment. I have others but they are just embryos, a couple lines written down somewhere so as to not forget about them and work them later on like brioche dough.

That Carraville cuddles prompt

You sent me this one months ago now I think but I’m getting there!!

Progress : It’s about three fourth done, I’m just trying to find a nice transition scene to link what I have so far and the last scene I have written some time ago already.

What I love about it : it’s totally self-indulgent in the setting/context. I don’t want to spoil too much as I want it to be a surprise but the drabble is set in an AU-ish sort when Carraville (and others familiar faces) take part into a TV game show about teams of two having to hitchhike to reach their given destination with barely any money and having to complete different challenges along the race.

“Uncle Beom-pal” Project

What was intended as a drabble and will probably finish at 4/5k words qzsedrcftgybh. A fic about Cho Beom-pal, himbo extraordinaire from Kingdom, a korean original Netflix show about zombies in the early Joseon era.

Progress : I’d say I’m about halfway done. The more I write and think about this WIP, the more I think about scenes I could add or change, the more I can see the construction of the story, almost like a storyboard. I do have a clear-cut vision of how it will be now so I think it won’t change too much from what I have in mind.

What I love about it : I decided to set the story during the timelapse that happens at the end of season 2 so it allows me a certain form of freedom to imagine what may have happened during the seven years timelapse (the fic is set a year before the story resumes). It also gives me the opportunity to develop further Beom-pal’s layers that we see in season 2 (honestly the best character arc of the whole show) and to speculate on his relationship with the new king who happens to be his young nephew. To give you an idea of Beom-pal’s situation at the end of season 2 : he’s alone. His friends are not with him anymore, his family is all gone. Except for his nephew. Who also happens to be the king. Whom he also happens to be the prime advisor. I try to explore the complex relationship this situation creates because of protocols and royal duties in contrast to the king being just a child and he and Beom-pal basically being the only family they have left. As you can see I’m very invested in this project haha ^^’

The “Ceci predicted an actual scene of the show in fic” project

This WIP has been going on since August while I was watching Miss Korea (a truly beautiful show and criminally underrated).

Progress : it’s been a slow progress but I’m almost there.

What I love about it : the characters, who are the secondary couple in the show but who, imo, steals the spotlight. During an episode at the end of the first half of the show, there was a scene that made me wonder what happened after and I just expanded it trying to tie it with the character’s traits and depictions. Find me wheezing four episodes later when like... 85% of what I had in mind ACTUALLY HAPPENED in the show aqzsedrftgyhuji. Anyway, I’ll go through with it even though it is a bit of a canon divergence. What I like about this WIP is that I make the characters “see” one another for the first time and not just a glimpse (which happened some episodes earlier). They are more vulnerable, especially Teacher Jung (his name truly means Teacher so I just call him that) who is your typical petty thug but with some moral code and a good heart underneath.

The “5+1 times Nam Ju-ri x Lee Sang-in” project

Lots of projects about korean dramas at the moment but I have watched a lot of them lately so I guess it’s only fair. And it’s also because I can’t find any fics focusing on my favourite characters (usually supportive characters) so I guess I want to be the change I want to see in the world.

Progress : very early stage of the fic, I wrote bits of paragraphs or dialogue for different chapters at the same time, it’s kind of all over the place at the moment.

What I love about it : there are no fics focusing on these two who had a cute, individual, development of their character and who have a blossoming relationship. They are both losers who cares and I just love themn, they deserve more love. This is truly a self-indulgent fic and that’s just nice in and of itself.

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

Re : the Uncle Beom-pal project.

There are two scenes that appeared to me after I began writing but which gave me so much feels just thinking about it that they had to be there.

The plot of this WIP is basically the young king, on the eve of the day in remembrance of all the victims of the “great plague” (he doesn’t know it was a zombie epidemic, everyone tries to protect him and not tell him what truly happened), asking Beom-pal to tell him a story before going to sleep. The ceremonies planned the next day weighs on his mind and makes him think about his friends and, especially about Seo-bi : a nurse who saved his life and to whom he is truly devoted like a lost puppy. And thus, he tells the king what happened without really telling him. By turning it into a story, not mentioning names but using nouns or adjectives (”The Healer”, “The Warrior” or, for himself, “The Fool”) and just being vague about “monsters” in a far away place, a long time ago. As he goes on with the story, past and present mix together as Beom-pal remembers his and his friend’s journey.

The two scenes are flashback scenes between Beom-pal and Seo-bi right after the last big “battle” against the zombies. One flashback she tends to his wounds and there’s a sort of silent reverence as if she finally realises he’s not just a useless and coward nobleman. And he, on the other hand understands what is probably to come (her leaving with two other characters, their friends) and how he wishes he could go with them or keep her with him but either solution is simply impossible. And the other is their goodbye (they won’t see one another for, AT LEAST, seven years and the guy is still yearning, can you believe). And again, it’s mostly silent, sentences cut short because they understand and they don’t need to say all of it. He’s not being talkative and a lost puppy following her every move anymore and she lets herself be more relaxed, lets her guard down a bit with him to show just how far they have come personally and in their feelings towards one another. Truly cannot wait to make myself cry and for my friend to threaten me to call the police on me zserdtfygh

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

He was tired, tired of pretending, of wearing a mask when nothing seemed bright anymore in his life. He felt the salty tears brush his lips before he realized he had begun to cry. He put the barbell back in its place, before it threatened to fall from his soon trembling hands, and he sat on the bench, completely consumed by uncontrollable sobs.

Failure, fraud, failure, fraud, failure, fraud… His mind did not leave him any rest.

From and I’ll only need to hold you (go back to sleep and dream) – Chapter 4

More than that paragraph, it was the whole chapter that I was happy with. It came from a rather personal place and it wasn’t always easy to write it but when I was done, I felt a bit better and I was happy with the result. The paragraph above is the beginning of my favourite scene in the chapter which is when two then-not-old Italians have a confrontation. Well… More like Rino confronting Gigi after the latter has isolated himself for some time. And it’s in the dark. Ever since I’ve read Long Day’s Journey Into Night and studied it, I’ve been fascinated by the trope of dark/night setting = when the characters are the most honest, the most vulnerable and the most true to themselves. And that’s what happened in that scene. I was happy with how I wrote it out and the vibes it gives off.

#thank you!!!#and sorry for taking so long #Answers #Ask stuff #My Fics

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comin-up-for-air · 7 years ago

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(I haven’t done this in years but I felt like doing it so here we go) The end of 2017 is near and I decided to rec my favourite fics of the year (which doesn’t necessarily mean that they were written in 2017 but that I’ve read them in this year). Under the cut there are 12 recs, one for each month, I hope you’ll like them as much as I did.

IF GREATER WANT OF SKILL by Emjayelle Rating: Explicit Details: 5k, one-shot, modern!AU, Merlin/Arthur, PWP Summary: Merlin's Friday isn't going to plan, to say the least. Especially when he takes the wrong late-night bus and ends up in Frat Row where he meets Arthur, the annoying frat boy that sits behind him in poetry class, who, by the way, is entirely to blame for the drunkenness, betting, sex, and poetry reciting that follows. Comments: If you think that reading poetry is boring you should definitely read this one. I never knew that Keats could be THIS sexy.

BRINGING ON THE GREAT by Detochkina Rating: Mature Details: 18k, one-shot, modern!AU, Merlin/Arthur, 2016 Summer Olympics Summary: Arthur Pendragon has been on the fast track to Olympic success since childhood, fellow teammate and rival Merlin Emrys keeping Arthur on his toes. Between dueling fathers, doting mothers, and a media frenzy—there’s no room for error in Rio, let alone a romantic relationship. But when Merlin tries to confide to Arthur a secret, one linked to their shared pasts, Arthur needs to decide if his history with Merlin is worth more than gold. Comments: I have a thing for fics where Arthur is an athlete, but those where both Arthur and Merlin are sportsmen are my weakness. Even more when there’s angst (A LOT), repressed feelings and an emotionally constipated Arthur who needs to get his head out of his arse (I’m sorry, I like my Arthur this way). Oh and I was almost forgetting the bonus: there’s also a beautifully jealous Arthur.

PERMANENCE by bevinkathryn Rating: Explicit Details: 3k, one-shot, modern!AU, Merlin/Arthur, PWP Summary: Merlin's inspired, Arthur's sleepy, and on a lazy morning, Arthur's skin becomes Merlin's canvas. Comments: What’s with me and the PWPs this year? I don’t know, anyway this is very short and I can’t actually tell you anything because I might spoil this beauty for you. But it’s worth it, trust me.

PUNK ROCK BOY by silver_etoile Rating: Explicit Details: 31k, one-shot, modern!AU, Merlin/Arthur, highschool!AU, punk!Merlin Summary: There's so much pressure on Arthur to choose the right university (Oxford) and date the right girls (Mithian), but a relationship with the weird punk kid was never in Arthur's plan. When Arthur finds himself in the unfamiliar territory of keeping secrets, he begins to wonder how much of what he thinks is right actually is. Comments: It’s probably because of whimsycatcher’s stunning art, but I’ve come to adore punk!Merlin. Oh and our perfectly posh Arthur can’t possibly be seen hanging out with a punk, right? That’s why this fic is worth a read! But beware, at the end you might not be able to stop imagining Merlin with a silver lip ring.

THINKING THEIR OWN KISSES SIN by helloheartlings Rating: Teen and up audiences Details: 29k, 2 chapters, dystopic!AU, Merlin/Arthur Summary: Love, Arthur had been taught from a very young age, was nothing more than pain and suffering, and the world was much better off without it. Comments: First of all it’s a fic from helloheartlings and that’s already a guarantee of great quality. (It looks like I’m advertising knives and pans on the telly, QVC should hire me). And then it’s an innovative take on the dystopic universe theme. Basically, if you thought that Uther banning magic from Camelot was a shitty way of dealing with the death of his wife, imagine him eliminating emotions so that nobody will have to feel anything anymore. (And once again the award for the worst dad of the year goes to… Uther Pendragon!!!)

LOVE, MERLIN by goodluckgettingtosleep Rating: Mature Details: 66k, one-shot, modern!AU, Merlin/Arthur, slow burn Summary: Merlin and Arthur have been best friends since they were kids, but even though they’re inseparable, life always seems to be getting in their way, separating them against their will. Timing, fate, and life itself seem to have conspired against them and when it comes to love, there always seems to be someone else. Will they ever get their timing right and both realize that they were meant to be together since the beginning of time (quite literally), and that even across time and space, the bond they share can never be severed? A tale of magic, friendship, family, and a love that outlasts centuries. Comments: I should have read the name of the author before I started reading this fic, because it’s long and I had the ill-advised idea of starting it at 10pm. Needless to say I stayed awake to finish it even if I had to wake up at 7am. It’s the kind of fic that gets extra gripping because those two bloody idiots spend 66k words pining for each other and are so oblivious it’s maddening (in their defense I must say that they were downright unlucky). Bonus: Merlin’s the ADORABLE daddy of a fantastic little girl.

WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES by samyazaz Rating: Explicit Details: 11k, one-shot, modern!AU, Merlin/Arthur Summary: Gwaine's parties are the stuff of legend, if his own bragging is to be believed. He holds them every month or so, and he's been trying since freshman year to get Merlin to come to one of them. "C'mon," he always says, wheedling. "You don't know what you're missing. It's not like you're going to be doing anything, anyway." Gwaine thinks anything less than full-blown partying is "not doing anything", and Merlin long ago gave up the fight to convince him that an evening spent in his room with a challenging essay or a good book is actually an enjoyable way to pass the time for him, and not grounds for pity. Merlin's never going to win that battle, and he knows it. Usually, he shrugs Gwaine off. He's heard rumors about what goes on at Gwaine's parties, and mostly, it sounds like what goes on is orgies. Definitely not Merlin's scene. Comments: Reading the first part of this fic gave me the most terrible wave of second-hand embarrassment, Merlin was so out of place at Gwaine’s party. But then our favourite knight in shining armour (also known as Arthur) rescues him and, honestly? One of the best smut fics I ever laid my eyes on. AND the ending was so sweet I couldn’t stop giggling for hours.

SEASONS by wangler Rating: Explicit Details: 40k, 4 chapters, modern!AU, Merlin/Arthur, underage sex Summary: Arthur and Merlin meet in high school. When they're separated after a magic duel gone wrong, hearts are broken, lots emails are written and a few cupcakes are set on fire. Sometimes it takes a while to figure destiny out. Comments: This is kind of a classic? I don’t know, I remember reading it a chapter a couple of years ago and thinking that it was pure gold but then, somehow, I couldn’t find the remaining chapters until last summer. It’s a modern!au with magic, it’s jam packed with angst, Merlin’s too powerful for his own good and I spent the whole time wishing I could give Arthur (who, if I remember correctly, is younger than Merlin in this one) the biggest hug because he really goes through hell. KEPT AWAKE WITH WOLVES TEETH by InkandOwl Rating: Explicit Details: 13k, one-shot, modern!AU, Merlin/Arthur Summary: Merlin and Arthur have one of those friendships where they're just so comfortable with each other they see no problem in sleeping in the same bed together Comments: At this point you already know that I love angst (don’t you say?), but this one is the PERFECT mix of angst and fluff (flangst?). Arthur’s truly a jerk, you might feel the urge to punch him at some point, but he’ll get his head out of his arse at some point, I promise. THE GOOD TIMES ARE KILLING ME by minor_hue Rating: Explicit Details: 15k, modern!AU, Merlin/Arthur, pretend relationship Summary: In which the boys pretend to still be together for Christmas (and there is more than one kind of charade) Comments: This is truly a classic. If the summary sounds familiar to you it means that you’ve already read it (I’m probably the only idiot who’s found it only a couple of months ago), if it doesn’t READ IT. NOW. It’s a masterpiece. The essence of angst with the sweetest ending. I could write poems on this fic, I re-read it once in a while and it never ceases to amaze me.

THE DREAMS INSIDE by winterstorrm Rating: Mature Details: 10k, modern!AU, Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Morgana Summary: Arthur had always held back, not trusting himself. After all, he'd been in love with Merlin since he was eighteen years old—and Merlin had been with his sister. Now that Morgana was off the scene, could Arthur be blamed for taking his chance with Merlin? Comments: This time it’s Arthur who pines and we get to see it from his point of view. Uther’s a shitty dad with a penchant for blackmailing Arthur and Morgana’s loved ones but, unfortunately for him, Merlin ends up being romantically involved with both.

YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE by storyforsomeone Rating: Explicit Details: 160k, 13 chapters for now (IT’S A WIP), modern!AU, Merlin/Arthur, JamesBond!AU, slow burn Summary: Agent Arthur Pendragon is the best double 0 the agency has seen in decades, trained and honed to be MI6’s finest weapon. He does not need a voice in his ear telling him how to do his job. He does not listen to stubborn geniuses who apparently had no sense of self-preservation and enjoyed baiting professional killers. He certainly does not fall in love with quartermasters with haunting blue-gold eyes and an irritating habit of saving his life. (Or the one where Arthur is 007, Merlin is Q, and they’re both still idiots.) Comments: It’s a WIP so if you don’t read WIPs stay away, but no, please don’t. I never rec WIPs which should speak volumes about how much I love this fic. Arthur is 007, Merlin is Q (no, I’ve never watched James Bond so no previous knowledge is necessary) and they’re both BAMF. The other spies (the knights) are equally awesome. There’s action, humour, incredibly well-potrayed characters, an intriguing plot and, I repeat it, they’re spies, do you need anything else? No, you don’t. Go read this fic.

Every fic is available on AO3 or LiveJournal. I hope the links work, in case they don’t send me a message.

#merlin fic rec #merthur fic rec #merlin fic recs #merthur fic recs

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mandelene · 7 years ago

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What Doing NaNoWriMo Taught Me

1) The impossible is possible. I often joke with my friends that I’m a binge-writer. I don’t normally write every single day. I wait for the weekend to come and then devote an entire Saturday or Sunday to writing about 5k-10k words. NaNoWriMo forced me to make time every day to write 1667 words, and that was the biggest challenge for me -- consistency and perseverance. I would come home from class at 6:30 and feel too tired to do anything else, but I still had to make time to write, even if it meant staying up until 2 AM. Even when I wasn’t feeling well or I had already written a bunch of stuff for school, I sat down to write and tried to type out at least a couple of words each day. I fell short of my daily word count a few times, but I would just write twice as much the next day. All in all, the graph of my progress stayed pretty consistent though, and that’s what I’ve been most proud of. I didn’t make any excuses this month. I wrote even when I felt like it was impossible and my brain couldn’t put together any sentences, and I found that even when I thought I couldn’t write, I could. Not once did I feel inspired. Each day was like pushing a wheelbarrow filled with rocks up a hill, and it didn’t get any easier like I thought it would. Each day was just as hard as the previous one, but I didn’t let that stop me. 2) There’s always time.

I thought I wouldn’t have time to write every day. That was a lie I was feeding myself for a long time. You can always make time. I wrote a good chunk of my novel this month on the bus, in between classes, in coffee shops while having lunch with friends, or in the middle of the night. I sacrificed sleep and made myself get out of my comfort zone. So much of our day is wasted on idle time--waiting for a bus or train, sitting in a doctor’s office, waiting for class to start, sitting in the back of a car, etc. I utilized every minute of the day for writing, and when I wasn’t writing, I was reading about writing. 3) If you want something, you have to chase after it.

Writing is a very solitary and dull act. Most of the time, it’s hell and not as magical as non-writers think it is. Even when you’re writing well, it feels like what Stephen King always describes as “shoveling shit from a sitting position,” but being a writer forces you to accept this and keep going anyway. Nothing gets handed to you. If you want to write a novel, at some point, you have to sit down, commit to it, and write. Again, no excuses. Otherwise, life keeps passing you by and you wander around in this gray middle ground where you can always see your dreams in the distance, but you can never touch and hold them. No one is going to be there to write for you or to give you the magic formula for getting it right. You have to shut yourself in your room sometimes for hours on end and just do it.

4) I’ll never be satisfied.

So, I wrote over 50,000 words this month. Sure, I’m happy about it and proud of myself on some level, but the story isn’t done yet, and I’m not totally satisfied. I think a lot of the scenes I wrote were lackluster, and the novel as a whole is going to take a heck of a lot of editing. I thought I’d finish NaNoWriMo and finally feel accomplished as an aspiring writer, but that hasn’t been the case. I still feel this itch and nagging to keep going -- to see it through to the end and write multiple follow-up drafts until this aching in my chest stops and everything sounds like it should. I always want more, even once I’ve done what I’ve set out to do, and I hate myself for putting myself through this masochism. I know it’s a good quality to have, but it’s draining, and I wish I could give myself a week away from my novel and rest, but I know I’m not going to be able to relax until it’s officially done and I’ve got at least an 80,000-word novel.

5) When you feel broken inside, that’s when you know you’re doing it right. I officially finished NaNoWriMo at 2:36 AM on November 30. I decided to stay up on Wednesday and get it over with because I didn’t want to put myself through the struggle of worrying throughout the entirety of Thursday about whether or not I was going to finish on time. I’m the type of person who likes to rip the band-aid off (it’s a gift and a curse). The last scene I wrote was intense -- the most heartbreaking scene of the novel thus far, and halfway through it, I burst into tears because I was exhausted, and I was battling all of the emotions going through my head as I was typing. Something amazing happened in that moment. I felt like I was there, standing on the porch and seeing what my protagonist was seeing. I was there, in my slippers, with the cold night air biting at my skin and my eyes burning from the sting of bright lights cutting through the darkness. I felt the helplessness of the moment as the weight of the night sky pressed down upon me. It sounds silly, but that’s how I know I’m getting somewhere and that I’ve tapped into something in my writing -- when I’m either grinning and feeling euphoric with my characters or when I cry with them. It’s only happened to me a handful of times, and each time, I’m left stunned by it. It was the first time my novel felt truly real to me -- like I could go to that very street and meet those characters in person, and they would be tangible people with complicated lives and hopes and dreams. 6) You’re more powerful than you think. A week ago (around day 22), I let my friend read the first chapter of my novel because I was dying for feedback at that point. I trusted her to give me critical feedback because she’s never said nice things just to placate me before, and she’s not afraid to tell me when something sucks. The first thing she said after reading it was, “Wow, you have some pretty incredible characters here. You need to slow down and give them the time they deserve because wow, just wow.” I know world-building and description/imagery are my weaknesses, and oftentimes, because of that, my writing can sound a little monotone and dull if I don’t actively go back and fix it. I’ve also always known that dialogue is one of my strengths, but NaNoWriMo helped me see what I can do with a whole new set of characters made from scratch. I wasn’t writing pre-made characters given to me by a fandom. They were my characters, and I fell in love with them. I’m so happy to have accomplished that. It was a powerful discovery. 7) This is what I’m meant to be doing.

This is a lesson I’ve had to learn over and over again. It’s also something I’m often in denial about. Knowing you want to be a writer is a scary thing because you know it means you’re going to face a lot of rejection, heartbreak, and disappointment. Most writers never make a sustainable career out of their work -- they have to have a side job. When writing gets hard sometimes, I think about what it would be like to have chosen a more practical career path. I could have gone to medical school like my parents initially wanted me to, and I could’ve lived a comfortable life, never having to worry about how to support myself. My future would have been safe and certain. I could have been anything else, and it probably would have worked out fine, but I chose to be a writer because I want my life to be more than fine and liveable -- I want it to be meaningful and full of passion and drive, even if that means it’s going to take a lot of tears and pain to get there. As I get nearer and nearer toward graduating college, I get more and more terrified that I’ll never be able to be independent and provide for myself. NaNoWriMo made me face the harsh reality of the path I’ve chosen, but I don’t regret my choices, even when I have my moments of doubt. And if I fail, I fail, but I’ll have failed knowing I put my heart into being more than just another person trying to survive life. There’s more to life than a good job and money. There’s love, and joy, and fulfillment, and family, and friends, and walking out onto the street and feeling like flying because it’s a beautiful day and the sun is shining and everything feels like it’s going to be okay. It’s laughing so hard you want to cry and crying so hard you want to laugh. It’s hearing a soothing song, and writing a poem, and growing up, and losing yourself but finding yourself, too. It’s about being confused. It’s about the tenacity of the human spirit even in the face of great adversity. It’s about pain and tears but also warm arms holding you as you lean on someone who loves you. It’s coming home after being away for a long time. It’s standing up for what you believe in and fighting for what’s right. It’s empathy and letting people into your heart. It’s everything that makes us human and fallible. And one day, it’ll be over -- for all of us -- and when it’s over, how much monetary value your life had won’t matter. It’ll just be gone, and your life will be a series of memories by which others remember you by. I don’t want people to remember me as someone who didn’t follow her dreams and followed the straightest path through life in order to be comfortable. I want to be uncomfortable. I want to be challenged. I want to be sad. I want to feel pain. I want to go through all of these things because I want to experience all my life has to offer. And so, I’m going to keep writing -- never satisfied, but never stopping either because I’ll always be yearning for more from myself.

#nanowrimo #nano 2017 #winner #life lesson #writing

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