#have a fab day I love you lots I’m sorry I’ll be working late but I love youuuuu

[seagull-scribbles]

“Hold on tight, little Dudette”

A birthday gift for @naivesilver 🍊 once I realised these two had the same colour scheme it was over ahahaha!

He’s going to take her back to the lair because there's a certain brother who could help her down there…don’t overthink it!

[daisylincs]

Author Interview Tag

Tagged By: so, long story short... these tags happened right as I was getting super busy with end-of-the-year-craziness, and I completely didn't see them until I was re-scrolling through all my mentions on Tumblr recently. So the people who initially tagged me have probably forgotten they even did (🤣😬🤦‍♀️) but my my count, they would be: @loved-the-stars-too-fondly, @libbyweasley, @aleksandrachaev, and @everythingirl44. Thank you very much indeed, all of you!! This looks like an absolutely amazing challenge, late as I may be to it.

Name: Lily

Fandom(s): Agents of SHIELD (TV) and Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Where You Post: AO3, and the occasional drabble/prompt fill to Tumblr - which, upon consideration, I should probably collect on AO3 🤔

Most Popular Oneshot: for Spideychelle, and overall too, apparently it's my, my, just how much I missed you, my surprisingly angsty (but with a hopeful ending) ten-years-post-FFH fic for Day 4 of Spideychelle Week.

For AoS, it's time can break your heart, have you begging please which, to be entirely 100% honest with you, I completely forgot I wrote in the first place 🤣🙈 It's post-7x10 angst on... that 7x10 and very spoilery death, with some Dousy hurt/comfort. Apparently, Dousy hurt/comfort is the rage, so... that's cool, I suppose.

Most Popular Multichapter Fic: just a few weeks ago, I would have responded with something like, "multichap? Me? As if 😳😅" But now... well, I'm actually posting my first multi-chapter fic later today, so we'll see how that goes!!

Favourite Story You've Written So Far: oh, gosh, that's a really, really hard one!! I've really, really enjoyed almost everything I've written, so picking is going to be very tough cookies xD

For AoS, I think I'm going to go for take my hand, take my whole life too, which is one of the first few things I wrote, but still holds a very special place in my heart, because I felt that it was a fic I could really be proud of, you know? Plus, it made me feel ridiculously soft and shippy-happy throughout the writing process. Plus plus, it has an absolutely stunning banner created by the amazing @ughfitz, which still touches me a lot, because I'd never had such a beautiful banner made before and askjgddfshhdhh it's just perfect.

I'm also very partial to july second, the birthday fic I wrote for @doctorofaos - because Hunter's point of view, it turns out, is ridiculously fun to write, and I had an absolute ball. The whole arc - a surprise birthday party for Daisy, and some team bonding/family fluff - just really works for me, too.

Another one that has to go on this list is hold out your hand, 'cause friends will be friends, my DaisyMack Soulmates BroTP, because that one is my amazing wife @aleksandrachaev's favourite, and it melts my heart so much to hear how much she likes it. 💜

Then lastly, for Spideychelle, my favourite thing I've written is quintessential spideychelle, no contest - it's a Roommates AU and my birthday gift for @eowima, and all the bonding those two dorks do over Lucifer and fandom in general brings me endless delight.

My Aladdin AU, now when did you last let your heart decide, will also always hold a special place in my heart, because it's the first really long thing I wrote. I put a ton of effort into it, and, well, I still think it's kinda fab.

(also I'm so sorry for the relentless self-plug that turned into, oh my God, apparently I'm just that indecisive and love talking that much. I apologise once again)

Fic You Were Nervous To Post: Aubrey, high-five! Because one of the things I was definitely the most freaked out for was that is good, my first-ever Quakerider fic and birthday gift for @acerobbiereyes. The response to that turned out to be overwhelmingly positive, though, and I have even made promises to venture into Quakerider-land again 🥰

I was also a little stressed for we love you, we love you, and we hope you love we too, which was my first-ever polyship fic - Fitzskimmons and cute notes for the fluff bingo - and something I also dedicated to the amazing @bobbimorseisbisexual. Also the formatting for this thing was HELL, and computers and I do not get along, so I was in cold sweats that it wouldn't work and fail on me completely... but, no, it worked, and the wonderful response to it too, very much melted my heart 🥺💖

How You Choose Your Titles: song lyrics. Almost always song lyrics. And if it's not song lyrics, it's a quote of some kind - it just works for me, and I actually find it fun to go hunt for something that works. Maybe I'm weird, but I actually do love it xD

Do You Outline? absolutely, yes - in fact, a great many of the things in my WIPs folder are solely outlines, or even just the beginnings of outlines. I find that outlines are a really good way to save your ideas if you don't have time to write them out properly, so you can come back months later and be all, "what the hell I'm actually so clever." (or, y'know, occasionally, "what the hell can the earth come swallow me up." But let's go with the cleverness 🤣👌)

In Progress:

... I think it's better that we don't talk about my WIPs folder, which, as most people who know anything about me can tell you, is an utter mess, and more than a little insane. (If you don't believe me, check it out here - I bet you do now, right?)

Out of that monstrosity, I'm currently working on numbers 20, 64, 192 and 174, which would be my Skimmons Hallmark Rom-Com, and fics for my three Secret Santas - Spideychelle, Fitzsimmons, and then one for the AoS Secret Santa whose pairing is, in delightfully SHIELD style, classified until the 24th of December.

Then in the very background, I'm also writing some Pipsy, Fitzsimmons and plat!Diper for the fluff bingo yes which I have still not finished I'm awful I know, and I'm going to make my lateness a liiiitle better by passing them of as gifts for my friends. I do love my friends very much, though, so that's more than fair I think 🥺💜

My Complete AO3: ta!

Do You Accept Prompts? yes, always! I have this plan in the back of my mind of gathering up all the prompt lists I've got saved to my drafts and doing like a masterpost/mass prompt request thing, but I'll leave that for a little later yet, because goodness knows I have enough to finish 🙈 In the meantime, though, if there's anything you'd really like to see me write, I'd be just thrilled to do it for you! It'll definitely take me a couple of months to actually get to it, but if you don't mind the wait, then yes, absolutely, I'm your girl! 💖

Upcoming Work That You're Most Excited About: oooooof, another tough one, but I'm very much looking forward to posting the first chapter of my Skimmons Hallmark Rom-Com, which I'm going to do later today!!

Then there's also my three Secret Santas - though I'm not particularly religious, the idea of a gift fic exchange brings me endless glee and I cannot wait to see what my giftees think! I also can't wait to get my own gifts, too, of course... ;) Oh, it's just going to be so much FUN!!

Tagging: well, everyone did this a couple of weeks months ago, so I'm not actually going to tag anyone - but if you see this and think it's cool, by all means go ahead and say I tagged you! 😍 Also, have a very big virtual hug, all of you, and thank you so much for reading through all my blathering!! 💜💖

[warandpussy]

omg PLS talk more abt ur 12dole!

sure! link

fyi I barely remember writing this, all i remember is that it's super weird i suppose the point is it's about being lonely. i love s10 for the way it slows down, gives the doctor a home base, a time to breathe. but i also love how, with that, he has to deal with the demons in his head scrabbling at the door; he can't ignore them any more. like. his wife just died. so this fic was like, i want to explore that loneliness and that grief.

to be clear, it's also about the doctor getting off with a decapitated robot head.

i'll put this under a cut

The Doctor stares into the mirror on the wall.

It isn’t – it’s not something he likes to do. It’s uncomfortable, he thinks, to observe the evidence of a long life carved into a face. To confront the evidence of age and time passing, old regrets scoring delicate lines over the brow, the cheeks, beneath the eyes. He considers his reflection and swallows the lump in his throat.

It’s with a trembling hand that he reaches out to his glass counterpart, feeling that even a touch of his skin will send it shattering to the ground at his feet, that a press of his fingers against something that isn’t even him, not really, could break him apart. You’re lonely, you’re lonely, his brain cackles at him, and it sounds like –

In the end, it’s just cold, smooth. Nothing.

He runs his finger over the image of his lips, lets himself slip into memory, lets himself remember being touched there. Allows himself the indulgence of it. A wicked grin; a puff of curly hair; ‘hello, sweetie.’

so we start here. you ever been so lonely you just touch your own face to imagine someone else doing it? yeah. i guess the doctor feels like someone who never really gets to process any of this a lot of the time, because one series will end with a tragedy, and then the next one will just pick up on the next adventure. but if your wife died, you got trapped in a university with a woman who hates (?) you and a bitchy robot, you'd probably have some issues.

i wanted to start it here, on his own, because that's the thing, really. he's alone. or he feels alone. and it's a bit dramatic and over the top because when you're miserable that's what you do. the world is falling apart. i'll be alone forever.

the next scene is him and Nardole, and it's like, a drastic shift in tone

“How’s the new head working out?”

“Oh.” Nardole reaches up a hand and pats at his ample cheek. “Quite well, actually, sir.” He strokes his neck a little, tracing a light finger underneath his collar where the seam in his skin is. “Much more efficient processing power.” He gives a little self-conscious cough. “I’ve been having new ideas every fifteen minutes or so.”

“Wonderful,” the Doctor tells him, picking up Rachael Simmerton’s essay on – faith and free will, apparently – and pretending to read the introduction. It’s not, of course. Heavens above, he doesn’t need Nardole having ideas. He’ll have to fix that in a later upgrade. “That’s – fab. Great to hear.”

none of the above is coming through. he's masking it, of course he is. the worst thing about being lonely is that you can't say you're lonely, otherwise people will know how lonely you are - and isn't that to most pitiable thing. no - best to.. uh.. snog a robot head, apparently.

i wish that was how it worked in real life

i really like this scene for the banter between him and Nardole. they're so awful together. I love them.

Nardole pushes himself up with his elbows and stomps over to the Doctor’s desk. He jabs a finger in his face. “Rude. That was rude.” The Doctor shrugs. “You’ve been in my room before, and it was fine.”

“There were pants on the floor.”

“I was in the shower!”

“Ugh.” The Doctor shudders again, deliberately meeting Nardole’s gaze as he does. “Don’t remind me.”

“It’s my room, I can leave my pants on the floor if I want to.”

“My spaceship,” the Doctor reminds him. “And I don’t make you pay rent.”

Nardole rolls his eyes. “Good thing, too, given you don’t pay me at all,” he says, and trundles irritably into the TARDIS.

So yeah, the Doctor gets Nardole to bring out one of his spare heads (it's a whole thing, there's a cupboard full of heads, they have some kind of shared memory drive, the old ones go a bit insane the longer they're detached from the body).

It’s a little disconcerting, having your cyborg assistant’s decapitated head on your desk, but at this point the Doctor has seen enough of Nardole’s body, given all the upgrades he’s had to do over the past seventy years, that it doesn’t faze him. He’ll end up seeing a lot more, most likely; they’ve still got over nine hundred years still to go. This doesn’t faze him either – certainly not as much as it would have done back when they’d first been stuck here, uncomfortable in their stillness, squabbling with each other just to pass the time.

The first time he’d had his hands in Nardole’s chest, sometime in the late nineties, tinkering with the artificial heart he’d had installed, Nardole had asked him why he even bothered.

“Can’t have my manservant dying on me, can I?” he’d muttered, irritated at the question.

“Oh, is that what I am?” Nardole had bitched.

Covering his face with his welder’s mask, the Doctor let out a snort. “If you shuffle off this mortal coil, Nardole, I’ll have to hire a new assistant. I can’t be bothered.”

“Let me be clear, you're giving me eternal life so that you don't have to hold job interviews?”

“Yes.”

Nardole had looked at him for a long time after that, uncharacteristically silent. When the Doctor was done, he’d grabbed his wrist and squeezed, before standing and making two cups of horrifically sweet tea. The Doctor had drunk the lot.

i was talking about this the other day with you. i guess i tend to think there's a real power in delay, in writing. when the real scene is going on, but then the characters trip into a memory. the Doctor's nervous about what he's going to do (and, in a doylist fashion, the reader doesn't KNOW what he's going to do) so by pausing the 'real' scene and tripping into this memory, we get to hold off on that reveal for a little longer

but we also get to explore the Nardole and Doctor dynamic. which is, here, one where they bitch and squabble with each other, but they still obviously deeply care for one another. #married.

Carefully, he probes behind the left ear for the on-switch, flipping it over with a slight press of his finger. It takes a moment, but the eyes flutter open and the mouth pulls itself up into a tiny smile. The smile drops off his face when he sees who’s holding him up.

“What do you want?” Nardole snipes.

he's such a bitch i'm obsessed with him

The Doctor sighs, and buries his face in his arms. “In the past, it was always – adventure, fun, heat-of-the-moment, explosions, running, kissing,” he mumbles. Nardole grunts at the acknowledgement of it. “Now,” the Doctor goes on, “now I just sit here.”

quarantine vibes.

no, but seriously, quarantine vibes. when i wrote this in february i was working the most gruelling, horrible job i've ever had in my life, and also i was in lockdown AGAIN and i couldn't fucking go anywhere or do anything fun. my whole life just became this awful job, that i did sat at my desk at home. i'd get off work, go lie in bed and cry, and then go back to work. now i just sit here indeed.

“Main Head said he was talking to you lot daily,” the Doctor says. He gives him a look.

Nardole puffs out his cheeks. “For a few minutes, sure. But it’s not like we get on.”

“You are exactly the same person,” the Doctor says, exasperated.

me @ me

(sorry this isn't going to just be all me laughing at my own jokes)

yeah. so they make out. there's like, negotiation on what Nardole (Spare Head One) is going to get out of this deal - he wants to go outside (mood) and he wants sweets and tea (bigger mood). he also doesn't want the Doctor to fall in love with him (uhhhh biggest mood??? i feel like if the Doctor falls in love with you you're doomed to a horrible ending).

“Guh,” Nardole says, and the Doctor pulls him off, lips tingling. Nardole’s face is red, which is interesting from a technical point of view – no blood, how does that work? – but the Doctor finds he doesn’t really care to think about it at the moment. He feels suffused with life; that empty cavity in his chest at least partially filled in, something present that had been missing.

The body is made to touch, after all.

for this i really need to insist on something. this is sci fi, nominally, but i DON'T CARE about the science. i really don't. why is Nardole's face red? how does he have spit? i don't care!!!!! i don't care about worldbuilding. i think, personally, for me, the "science" part of science fiction is just about finding a way to heighten a concept to reflect back something about the real world.

also i feel like it makes it more doctor who the less i give a shit about the science but that's by the by.

i guess this is like. THE scene. the scene of the fic. the point of it.

“I can’t believe you’re taking me with you to visit her,” Nardole says, scathing. They’re wandering through the grounds, as promised, the Doctor clinging onto the ears and holding out the head in front of him.

The Doctor snorts. “You’re not coming in with me.”

“What?”

He gestures at the sports bag he’s got slung over one shoulder. “I’ll chuck you in here.”

They walk past a clump of students who are chattering among themselves. They don’t even balk at him carrying an extremely lifelike head around with him. None of them have. Nardole had said it was because he was ‘super old’ and that young people don’t even notice he exists unless he’s looking frail and delicate next to a traffic light. The Doctor had frowned but hadn’t been able to dispute it.

Still, he makes Nardole hold his expression very still whenever they’re near other people. He’s got a whole story planned out in case he does get asked.

“Professor! Professor Doctor!” some enterprising young thing would say, jogging up. “What’s with the mannequin? It looks just like your assistant!”

“Ah,” the Doctor would say, stroking his chin like he had a goatee – he’d done that once in front of Missy and she’d told him he looked very refined, and offered tips for growing one – “you see, I’m planning a lecture series on death masks in Ancient Greek culture, so I’ve been experimenting with plaster casting.”

“Oh, how fascinating!” the student would say, fluttering their hands in front of their chest. “I’ll have to sign up!”

The Doctor would nod dismissively and stride away as if he had something important to go to. Nardole would almost certainly grumble about the Doctor saying he was dead, but he’d not have a leg to stand on – ha – because he was a robot and therefore had never even been alive. (Well – maybe he had… the Doctor didn’t really remember Nardole’s backstory – River had explained it once while they’d lain together in bed, but he’d zoned out, staring instead at the fine whorls of her ear).

Anyway, no one has asked yet, but he’s prepared if they do.

again - delay, so important here. the Doctor and Nardole (Spare Head One) are walking round and about the grounds on one of Nardole's requested walks. the Doctor is Not Doing Great, but he's trying to fake it. he gets triggered into a memory where Nardole calls him "super old", and then, almost as a defence to that, imagines a world where the students (who are ignoring him) all come fluttering up to him and admiring him in that way that he likes.

that's not happening.

It’s one of those cold spring mornings where the sun casts its light over the world in a glittering array, bouncing off dewdrops, shattering through windows. The air is sharp and bright, bracing the breath, probing his lungs with its chilled fingers. Everything teetering on the verge of too much. Too bright, too cold, cutting like a knife.

I'm really proud of this paragraph. I was trying to imagine how you would describe like, beautiful weather, on a day when you felt like shit. it's "glittering" "shattering" "sharp". it "probes him with chilled fingers" - it's invasive, harsh, awful. and it triggers another memory.

The last time he’d been out, alone, on a morning like this, the Doctor remembered, he’d embraced this muchness, let it fill him up, let it consume him. He’d thought it was the only way to feel touched again. Not by a person, but by the world. Then he’d berated himself; so pathetic, so maudlin. People don’t owe you their touch. It’s enough to have felt it at all. Enough to know.

Greedy, he’d thought. Insatiable. Selfish.

He falters by the sycamore tree, dropping Nardole lower. There’d been a cat here.

There had been a cat that had rubbed up by his legs, purring. He’d been so bright, so lonely. He had it picked up, holding it upside down so he could rub gently at the soft hot fur of its belly. It had let him, for a moment, lax in his arms, blinking, squinting up at the cold sun. Then, it had wriggled and squirmed, saying let me down, let me down, and he had thought, oh, not even you?

Not even you, he had thought as he set it down again, not even you want to touch me, and it had scurried off, heading to the cafeteria where the students likely would give it scraps of bacon sandwiches and drop pieces of cheese into its pleading mouth.

“Sir?” Nardole says quietly.

"not even you want to touch me"

like, that's the whole point - what he's been circling around this whole time. he came up with this crazy coping mechanism (snog a robot head, let's not forget his solution was to snog a robot head), but it doesn't fix the root cause which is that his wife is dead and his friend/enemy is locked up and he's lonely

anyway. they go to visit Missy (Nardole zipped up in a bag the whole time).

“What’s with the bag?” she asks. “Not seen that one before. You joined a basketball team?”

“Tried that once,” he tells her. “Got kicked out.”

“You thought it was netball, didn’t you?”

He huffs a breath through his nose, smiling again. “I thought it was netball,” he admits.

Missy purses her lips, eyeing the ceiling. “Makes sense,” she says. “It’s a net, and a ball. Honestly. I would understand it if they were chucking balls into baskets.”

“Football has a net too,” the Doctor says.

“And tennis.”

“I might just start calling every human sport ‘netball’ and see how angry they all get.”

Missy frowns. “I thought I was here to learn how to be nice to the wee humans.” She raises her eyebrows, tilts back in her chair. “You’re a bad example, you are.”

This is what they do now, this talking without really talking. Lots of words that say nothing at all.

he wants to connect with her so badly, but nothing they say has any meaning. they're just talking, blandly, about what's in front of them. they're there, together, but there's no connection. you can be lonely even when you're with other people

then Missy plays the piano for him (and there's NO duet, which as I'm sure you know, means that there is NO INTIMACY)

sex joke:

When the Doctor gets back to his office, Nardole is reclined in his favourite armchair, reading a saucy magazine. The Doctor peers over his shoulder.

‘HIS SECRET SEX SPOTS’, the article screams, ‘HOW TO PLEASE YOUR MAN IN THREE EASY STEPS’.

“Why are you reading that?” he asks before he can stop himself. Nardole looks up and fixes him with a look. “Actually don’t tell me.”

“I’ve got a boyfriend.”

The Doctor blinks. “What about Sharon?”

Nardole sighs loudly. “Haven’t you heard of polyamory?”

“Your spare head hasn’t told me about a boyfriend.”

“Oh!” Nardole says, narrowing his eyes. “Is that why you wanted him? To gossip about my comings and goings?”

“I definitely don’t want to know about your comings,” says the Doctor.

sorry i promised not to just laugh at my own jokes but honestly why else would i be here

they do this for a while. then Bill catches them.

“What are you doing?!” someone squawks.

Instinctively, the Doctor surges up and flings Nardole’s head clear across the room.

It’s Bill, standing in the doorframe, backlit by the light from the corridor. She’s looking at him, her face a picture of pure shock. Horrified. “Did you behead Nardole?”

oof. poor Bill, she goes through so much.

she drags Nardole to the office, and

He swings his feet back to the floor, turns to the two of them. Three of them. “You know,” he starts, “that I have been alone since my wife – left me.”

“Died,” Spare Head Nardole supplies.

Bill’s mouth drops open. “You’re married?”

Main Head Nardole elbows her. “He was.” He spins the photo of River on the Doctor’s desk around, making as if to grab it, and the Doctor is suddenly furiously, furiously angry. He slaps Nardole’s hand away.

“Do you mind!” he snaps, and clutches River’s picture close to his chest. His breaths are coming harsh and ragged, his throat tightening again. “I have been alone,” he says at last, “for seventy years. Alone in this office, in this building, in this city.” He puts the picture frame back on the desk, focusses on straightening it out, puts it perfectly in its place. “So yes,” he says, and breathing is coming easier now, “we came to an agreement. Me and him.” He gestures to Spare Head One.

“Him and me,” Spare Head One says.

“I see,” Bill says after a moment. The Doctor has hopes that that will be the end of it, that these two might piss off now, but then Bill ruins it by continuing to speak. “So you’re lonely.”

he can't even say it, that's the worst thing. he can't even say "she died" because it hurts too much. easier to say she just left. easier. better. because then maybe she'd come back.

Nardole doesn't let that happen though. he's someone that just like... says things, as they are. he just says it. she's dead. Bill's the same. you're lonely.

she's dead, you're lonely.

honestly wtf would the Doctor do without these two.

Bill goes like... you literally have a girlfriend locked up downstairs just talk to her for heaven's sake

Bill snatches up Spare Head One, who lets out a small squeak, and turns to the door. “How about we just go and get everything sorted out? Communication’s what it’s all about, you know!”

yeah Bill! comminication IS what it's all about

the problem with her plan - which is, as far as I can tell, "get the two weird Time Lords to speak to each other, maybe" is that she forgot to account for Missy being as weird as shit as well

Missy cackles. “Of course he doesn’t.” She whips the mango off the shelf and plunges her hand into the base of it. “That’s because he’s here!” And with a dramatic spin, she whips out another Spare Head from inside the mango.

“What was he doing under there?” Bill asks, baffled.

Missy rubs her nose. “Well,” she says, pointing at Spare Head One, “he offered.”

“So you fixed him,” Bill says, “and then you just shoved him under a thing on a shelf and – left him there?”

“No,” says Missy. “I bring him out from time to time.”

Bill frowns. “What for?”

Missy’s painted-red lips spread into a wicked smile. “Kissing.”

Bill blinks at her for a second, and then rolls her eyes. “Jesus Christ,” she says. “You two deserve each other.”

there's like... symmetry to it, right? synergy. they were lonely, there were some spare heads floating around, why not have a snog

OBVIOUSLY their problem is that they don't TALK to each other, they don't acknowledge their pain and they just like... cope, in the worst possible ways. but also i think it's funny so that's why i did this

the mango is obviously a reference to my other missydole fic, where Nardole gets his head stuck in a mango

obviously

THEN we get to the REAL weird bit

“Doctor,” she says, voice low, and hands him the head. “Kiss him for me?” The Doctor chokes on his own spit. “I want to watch.”

The Doctor turns his eyes to Nardole, who twitches his forehead in a way that might mean might as well, or might mean get away from me. Slowly, he leans in. Nardole’s eyes get big and round, but he doesn’t say anything, and as their mouths touch he lets out a soft sigh. The Doctor pulls away again and turns his head back to Missy. He raises an eyebrow. “Happy?”

“Very much,” she says, and plucks Nardole out of his hands.

“No, sir, don’t let her!”

“Oh,” Missy says, nostrils flaring, “I fix your head but I’m not allowed a little thank you kiss?”

Nardole narrows his eyes. “Only if you fix me, too.” He sniffs, and darts his eyes over to Spare Head Two, who sits still on the piano watching them all silently. “Like you did him.”

“Done.”

“Oh fine then,” grumbles Nardole, and she presses a dry, almost chaste kiss against his lips. When she pulls back, he has the impression of her lipstick all over his mouth.

“Your turn again,” she says throatily, and passes Nardole back to him. The Doctor leans in again and licks the lipstick off his mouth, smearing the red between the two of them. Missy leans in and whispers in his ear, breath hot, while he does, “It’s almost like you’re kissing me, by proxy, isn’t it?” He grunts, and kisses Nardole harder.

They part with a slick sound, and the Doctor eyes Nardole’s mouth with satisfaction, the faint pink stains all over his lips. He runs a finger over them. Missy leans over, and as the Doctor turns his head she kisses him on the corner of his mouth, pulling back with an irritated scowl.

"You were aiming for my cheek, weren't you?" he accuses.

“Give him to me,” Missy says, and he complies. She stands, Nardole clutched close to her chest, and wanders over to the piano stool which opens to reveal a full tool set. She grabs a screwdriver, and starts fiddling around in Nardole’s neck.

“Oh, we’re done, are we?” the Doctor says, trying not to sound petulant, and not really succeeding.

She gives him a disdainful glance. “Wanted more, did you?”

look i just want things to be awful and horrible for them all. like these are literally such rancid vibes. i think it's funny.

(oh, another note - in my FIRST publishing of this fic, did the Doctor and Missy kiss? no. did you come sobbing into my DMs about it? yes. did I write an entirely new bit just for you? yes)

i think. there's probably a version of this where they talk more. they open up to each other more. but i liked this more quiet, subdued version, where Missy fixes the other head, and it's more about what's implied than what's outright stated. i mean, yes, i love a good love confession, but i think there's almost something more intimate about this quiet understanding.

they've kissed, she's fixing something.

he knows things are going to be okay.

and, last words to the Doctor and Bill:

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” she says. “I’m sorry. You can – obviously, you can do what you want.” She swallows. “I didn’t know about your wife.”

Oh. The Doctor puts the essay back on the desk, and opens his arms. Bill burrows into them, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You didn’t know.”

“How long?”

“We’re time travellers, it’s difficult,” he deflects. She doesn’t say anything, but pulls back and gives him a look. “About seventy years.”

Bill smiles sadly. “That’s a long time,” she says, “to be alone.”

The Doctor looks down at her hand, and holds it in his own. He smiles at her. “I’m not alone,” he says. “Not any more.”

YEAH

i guess that's sort of explicating what was implied in the previous scene. he's not alone. he's got friends. he's got a plethora of spare heads. and he's also got Missy.

i think OBVIOUSLY i wanted this story to be funny and silly and wild and i wanted the Doctor to have a really embarrassing time snogging a robot head, but i also was really trying to say something about what it feels like to be lonely, and i am like, genuinely proud of it. i think it's probably one of the best things I've written.

i wrote it at a really horrible time in my life, like i said, and i don't really remember writing it for the most part. reading it back was actually like.. good. which is honestly so nice.

like, i wrote this for like two people (hi), and myself, and it's very much my brand of humour, which is that it's funny but it's also sad because i think funny hits harder when it's balanced on the knife edge of tragedy.

SO. YEAH.

~~fin~~

[thistangledbrain]

I think I’m going to add Day 28 a day early, because I just finished it. This one took me 3 days to write...I had to keep putting it down. I think because meltdowns are our strongest reminders that we are NOT like other people, and that can be hard to accept sometimes, especially when we’re trying so hard to blend in or go along. Also, meltdowns are when we are in a raw, illogical space - which is highly unsavory, to put it mildly. We are vulnerable. Naked. Stuck. Entirely in fight or flight mode - or both. For as baffling and upsetting as you find it to be - trust me, we aren’t having a good time, either.

*takes a deep breath*

Ok, here goes.

Day 28

“Dealing with meltdowns”

Well, this one’s fun. (sarcasm)

I’m glad I got a few days ahead, because this one is hard to think about, so I keep putting it down and then coming back to it. I asked my youngest some questions, but he didn’t want to talk about it, either.

We hate meltdowns. It feels like the whole world is ending/everything is crashing down at once. I don’t CARE if what triggered it was “small” - all the repressed stuff we’ve been trying to squash comes crashing in like the fuckin Kool-Aid Man through a half open door.

But, I’ll start with how you can help.

First and foremost: DO NOT TOUCH!!! NO! BAD NEUROTYPICAL!! NO TOUCH!! (One exception: if we’re trying to blindly bolt from our environment. STOP US.)

I know this is completely counterintuitive to typical human nature, especially with young children. You want to scoop them up and cuddle them and make them feel safe. Sorry, but you just did the opposite of that - you freaked us out even more, and your need to touch and comfort is entirely yours, in that moment. Let us come to you if we want physical comfort - when we do need that, we can be like clingy little monkeys (and if an Autie child clings to you during a meltdown, you *honor* that shit & throw all the loving calm energy you can out there for them - do not say anything or try and talk them out of it - just let them cling to you and cry. Literally - JUST be there). I will say, AFTER the meltdown, we will possibly need some reassurance and kindness, if you can manage it. We will sometimes allow holding when we don’t feel good, with our absolute closest humans, but generally we really want you to just be there but not touch, until we’re ready. Lots of us don’t really want you to leave altogether, at least not for long - even if it seems like we do.

If you want to help, start with keeping your energy (your “vibe”) as calm, gentle, and peaceful as possible. Try not to get frantic or frustrated. If we’re at home or in a familiar space, do things that make our space feel better - drop the blinds/make it dark, place our weighted blanket over us/find our stuffy if we have one, light a candle or burn sage/waft a favorite calming scent, like lavender. If you say anything, use a soft, gentle voice - try not to talk too much...but if you sing, that can be very soothing. Sing very softly - I don’t know why, but soft singing and rocking (if you can stay on key...sorry but it’s grating when the tune is off!) can go a long way towards calming. Things like this can head a total meltdown off or stop it in its tracks, sometimes. Or get us out into an environment that makes us happy (like a nature trail)...but if we’re past a 4 (I’ll explain in a moment), we might not be willing to.

If we’re in a school setting, get us out from under those GOD DAMNED FLUORESCENT LIGHTS...YOU might not pick up on their eye-and-head hurting flicker, but we can. They suck even when we’re in a GOOD mood. See if you can get us into a darker room, or at least one without those &$@!;!! lights. Small things like bright lights, or sounds that usually only cause mild annoyance can become HUGE - for example, my dogs. In my best moments, the sound of them licking themselves will set my teeth on edge - if I’m trying to come out of a meltdown, those sounds - or almost any sounds, really, except white noise stuff - are infuriating. I hate to say that, but 🤷🏻‍♀️ it’s just true. All your sensory shit is dialed to 11 and someone broke the knob off - there is NO “just deal with” whatever, at that point. We aren’t dealing with SHIT right then, so removal to a quiet spot is pretty damn important.

Try to distract or divert us before we’re over a 4 on a 1-10 scale, though, and absolutely before we start looping (the suggestions so far are for when the meltdown is in/almost in full swing - and I’m only speaking for older auties and into adulthood, here, though most of this stuff helps littles, too).

Let me explain “escalation scale” and “looping” - with the help of my husband, who recognizes patterns of escalation as well (in us, and in dogs ☺️). “Looping” is his word. It means no matter what you say, we keep looping back to what’s got us upset/how much we hate ourselves right then/all the bad feelings/past hurts that are piling on to the current problem. You’ll pull us out of it for a second, but then we loop right back to it. Ideally, you want to intervene before we get to the looping, which is about a 7+ on the escalation scale. Once we’re at a 7 and above....we’re consumed by it, and it gets much harder to diffuse. Think of the 1-10 scale like this: 1 is calm, 10 is completely nuclear - above a 7, almost nothing will distract us, almost nothing will divert us except bodily removal from the situation/environment & then leaving us the fuck alone (maybe figuratively but not literally - it depends on your Autie) for a while until we exhaust ourselves one way or another. If you can intervene and remove/distract right around a level 4 - which is right when you start to notice someone is getting quite agitated, you’ve got a good chance of heading the meltdown off at the pass. But if we’re already looping - repeating phrases over and over, looping back to our most upsetting feelings no matter what you say or do, sometimes while rocking or banging, you’re way too late. Now we have to ride it out together...as safely as we can manage. Now you need to make things dark, private, and as calming as you can, if possible. Or just get us the fuck out of the situation that set us off. That helps, too...obviously. I’ll tee up a possible scenario: you’re at an amusement park with your Autie. WHOA stimulation, right? You’re all having a fab time, but suddenly your Autie starts to cry or get angry or otherwise exhibit “I am SUPER OVERWHELMED” energy. 🤷🏻‍♀️ It’s just a lot to process, even when all the things are pretty fun. So, find a quiet place in a park like area to chill. Grab food from a stand - or go back out to your car and sit and eat a packed lunch or have some snacks. Don’t make a big fucking deal about it, either. Just “oh okay, I think now’s a good time for a quiet break”. Keep in mind all autistics are living in a sensory rich environment, and it can get mega overwhelming sometimes. It’s not always bad shit that sets us off.

I’ve mentioned in prior posts how it can feel like someone else is driving the car (controlling the emotions), while we sit in the back seat and scream and hit and try to get them to stop the fucking car and let us out...it’s in these moments that I TOTALLY understand how doctors got autism and schizophrenia mixed up, in years past. At least, that ripping in half is what my youngest son and I feel. YOU’RE frustrated with us right then? BRUH. WE are so fucking pissed and frustrated and upset that we can’t stop the car, too. You’re not helping if we know you are frustrated, either - that’s why I mention keeping your “vibe” as level and gentle and “no biggie” as possible.

I have some tips for head bangers and stuff, that I won’t include in this post but I’m happy to tell you what I’ve done/what can work.

Basically? “Dealing with” meltdowns is just....TRY SHIT. If you’re an Autie trying to manage your own, play around with what helps you calm down. It could be a brisk walk away from anything human, time under your weighted blanket, time in a dark warm shower or tub (idk about you, but in this house - water soothes nearly anything, most of the time), holding your pet, screaming all the cuss words you know into the void lol ....and the same methods might not work all the time (I was “feeling unsubstantiated feelings” the other day, and got into the shower before they overwhelmed me - a usual go to - but this time, the water felt disgusting, being wet just made it all worse. It surprised even me, but you gotta roll with it & try something else). But try as hard as you can to do something that will soothe you. Or find a safe place to let it all out, without hurting yourself. Pro tip, though: do not add alcohol. It not only takes away all the barriers you’ve probably put up to keep from going completely off the deep end, but it also magnifies all the bad feelings. I am, however, a big fan now of smoking a little green. I started trying that about 3 years ago and oh my god where has this been my whole adult life. I can’t take antidepressants or even most anxiety meds...but I can smoke. I use carefully chosen calming and pain relieving indica strains - sativa can sometimes make me feel more anxious. (YMMV)

If you’re the Emotional Support Human™️ of a melting down Autie, the same applies. Just try stuff. Trust me you will know if said Autie finds your efforts upsetting. It’s ok to want to talk to us about it afterwards, in a constructive way. Once we’ve calmed down, we know you’re trying to help. We’re raw and exhausted immediately after a meltdown though (meltdowns usually lead to shutdowns), so give us a little time, maybe. Or maybe not - maybe your Autie will be in a more communicative frame of mind, since it’s fresh. You won’t know unless you ask, maybe like “could we talk about this, or would you like some time to be quiet?” (Again - gentle tone and energy is important.)

Meltdowns are hard for me to write about because these days, they’re super rare, but when they happen, they’re ...well, brutal. Like really, really bad. I had one a few years ago that I think terrified my husband. We were in the car. I was getting so upset (screaming, beating my fists and probably thrashing a little) that he had to stop the car. Luckily we were in the boonies, but...not long after he stopped the car, I attempted to bolt. I felt trapped in between his efforts to soothe and the small confines of the car, and just wanted to bolt. Run. Far away. There was ZERO thought of personal safety at that point. His efforts to contain me were met with violence. I will be ashamed of that for the rest of my life - I don’t even have words for what an amazing human my husband is, and the LAST thing my non-melting-down brain wants, is to hurt him. But all I could think about was doing whatever needed to be done to escape this hell I was in. God. Just writing about it hurts, and I feel fresh shame. I’m telling you all this, so that you understand that *in that moment*, we are a cornered and overwhelmed animal, who wants to just bite bite bite or run away (fight/flight). The things we usually cling to - logic and reason - don’t exist right then. Nothing is logical - which actually adds to our upset.

There may be a time when your Autie feels like this too - and that’s one time where you DO need to intervene even if we don’t like it/hate it/get furious with you for it. If we are trying to hurt ourselves or run, do what you need to to not allow that. I truly believe this is how many young Autie kids get lost - we were upset and we just bolted blindly. We don’t react well to you stopping us....but it’s necessary.

There’s a moment in the Disney movie “Soul”, where 22 becomes a lost soul. Her little bright blue body is engulfed by swirling blackness, and inside that blackness is every bad or negative thing that’s ever been said to her. She starts looping - “I’m not good enough”, “I have no purpose”, over and over and over. This is what a meltdown feels like. In the movie, her mentor quietly hands her a small token reminder that starts to make the blackness melt away - it’s not the token that “society” thinks she should have, it’s a personal one. Shouting at her, blah blahblah talking, trying to reason with her makes her hiss and run away - but *quietly* handing her a tactile object that means something to her, brings her back to the present, and is what breaks the looping.

Here’s the clip of when he breaks through her meltdown. I hope it explains things in a way I’m struggling to. I’ll end with that...if the subtitles distract you, I apologize, I can’t find a “clean clip”.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=nmapZFDUkBk&t=41s

[strongerwiththepack]

Fab-Five-Feb: Gordon

Hope you enjoy this Gordon-centric fic as his week comes to a close. Poor Alan didn’t even get a mention in this one after getting the spotlight last week. Thanks again @gumnut-logic for this challenge. I’ve used the prompt ‘no clothes’.

“Tell dad I’m going out for the night.” Gordon said casually to John, who was in the kitchen doing work for school. He was hoping he could get away without John asking any questions. He almost succeeded as John just nodded, heavily engrossed in the book he was reading but as he opened the door to leave John seemed to snap out of it.

“Wait, where are you going?” John gave him a suspicious look.

“Just to the lake with some friends.” Gordon shrugged.

John narrowed his eyes. “Which friends?”

Gordon rolled his eyes. “Do we need to do this again John?”

“Apparently we do.” John said straightening up in his chair. “Those guys are no good for you Gordon.”

“Whatever John, you’re just jealous because they’re not friends with you.”

“They are not your friends Gordon.”

There was the toot of a horn sounding outside.

Gordon gave John a quick wave as he headed out the door. “I’ll be home by 10, okay?”

He didn’t give John the chance to respond before he was running down the driveway.

“Hey Tracy, that your weirdo brother at the window?” Todd Davidson mocked as Gordon clambered into the back of the 4-by-4.

Gordon just gave a half-hearted laugh. He knew these guys didn’t get along with John but he was never going to sit and ridicule his older brother. Although…he also wasn’t at the stage where he was ready to stick his neck out to defend John either.

He really wanted to impress these guys. They were older than him, he’d only just started to get invited along to hang out with them. Todd was a senior, like John, and most of his friends were either also seniors or juniors, Gordon was the only sophomore going tonight. Apparently there was a huge party going on at the lake just 20 minutes out of town.

Gordon had gotten friendly with Todd after the older boy had witnessed a fight Gordon had gotten himself into with another Senior – a Senior that Todd wasn’t too keen on either apparently. Gordon had taken the guy down with no more than a bruised cheek in return. He had three older brothers – he knew how to handle himself in a fight.

Speaking of his brothers, they had all been less than pleased with his behaviour, that’s why when Todd came along singing his praises he’d soaked it up. Scott was just starting his training in the air force and Virgil was away at college so they didn’t have the same influence on him as they used to. His dad had been very distracted lately and was away on business a lot. John had told him his dad had a big project in the works. Gordon hadn’t cared enough to question it further.

As for John, his closest older brother had given him quite the lecture but Gordon brushed it off at the time. John was always warning him about the guys in his year but Gordon was pretty sure John just didn’t know how to have fun. Heck, he’d definitely never seen his older brother go out to a party like this. Even Scott and Virgil had gone to their fair share of parties in their high school days. So when Gordon got invited to one himself, he jumped on the opportunity.

It about 7pm so it was already dark outside. Gordon stared out the window as they reached the lake. They drove round it for about a mile before the car drew to a stop. Gordon looked out at the darkness confused.

“I thought you said this was going to be a party?” Gordon asked looking out on to the silent waterfront. He’d expected a bonfire and loud music and he couldn’t hide his disappointment.

Todd chuckled from the front seat. “Don’t worry Tracy, we’re just leaving the car here and walking round.”

“Oh. Okay.” Gordon mused as he exited the car with the four other guys.

Todd went to the boot and pulled out a pack of beers, handing them out to everyone. He didn’t even hesitate to toss one in Gordon’s direction too.

Seeing Gordons look of unease he snorted “That’s not your first beer, right Tracy?”

“’Course not” Gordon was quick to shoot back, popping open the can. He took a sip and was hard pushed not to gag. Was it suppose to taste like that?

The guys set off down towards the water and Gordon couldn’t help but shiver a bit at the cold. This really wasn’t what he’d been expecting and he was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable.

He piqued back into the conversation as he heard one of the other guys shout at him. “Hey baby Tracy, aren’t you like a champion swimmer or something?”

He bristled a bit at the baby part but replied anyway, trying to sound impressive. “Yeah, coach said I could be on track for the Olympics if I put in the work.”

“Olympics, huh?” Todd grinned. “Give us a show then.” He said pointing towards the water.

Gordon gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah right.” He snorted.

Todd groaned dramatically and put his arm around Gordons shoulder. “Aw come on water baby, don’t be a party pooper.”

Gordon frowned. “You can’t be serious. It’ll be freezing.”

Todd just grinned down at him. “We’ve got towels in the car, just take another swig of the beer and you’ll be good to go. Come on Tracy, I know you aren’t a coward.”

Gordon stared out at the water. He tried to convince himself it would be fine. So what if he got a little cold? The guys would love it. He started to strip off his clothes.

The guys all cheered around him and Gordon felt his confidence return. Might as well put on a good show.

“There you go Tracy, knew you were up for a good time.”

When he was down to just his boxers he turned and gave the guys a mock salute before jumping off the bank and into the water. It was ice cold and the breath was knocked out of him immediately. He heard the guys cheering him on from the bank though so he kicked out and started swimming. He got into a rhythm after that. 1, 2, 3, 4, breathe, 1, 2, 3, 4…

When he figured he’d gone far enough out, he started treading water and looked back to the shore with a grin on his face.

It was silent.

His face dropped and he suddenly felt very alone. It’s fine, he told himself. He’d just gone too far out. He started swimming back, feeling the cold numbing his limbs slightly. When he got back to the bank and still couldn’t hear anything, he started to panic a little.

“Guys?” he called out. “Todd?”

He pulled himself up onto the bank, shivering as a light breeze blew past. He wrapped his arms around himself and noticed with a sinking heart that his clothes were gone as well.

“Very funny guys” he shouted into the darkness. “You can come out now.”

Everything remained perfectly still. Gordon ran back up to the road. The car was gone as well. Shit.

Gordon felt tears prickle at his eyes as he started to panic. He was standing in his boxers, soaking wet on a cold night in October. His phone had been in the pocket of his jeans so he didn’t even have anything to call home with.

His breathing picked up harshly. He was going to die out here. His body already felt stiff and the shivers tore through him harshly. Think Gordon.

John! John knew where he was. He just had to find a way to stay warm until John came to look for him. He sighed as he realised it was probably barely even 8 o’clock and John wasn’t expecting him back until 10. He needed somewhere he could wait until then. He vaguely remembered passing a water sports hut on the way in. That was probably his best option right now.

He walked a solid 30 minutes before he came across the old wooden building. He was pretty sure his feet were bleeding after walking all that way barefoot on the rocky surface but he was too scared to look. And too cold to feel it.

He tried the door but, as suspected, it was locked. He peered through the window looking longingly at the wetsuits hung up on the rack. Oh how he wished he could climb into about 10 of them right now. All layered on top of each other.

He trudged over to the changing cubicles closer to the water. Thankfully they were also made of wood and were not locked. He was relieved as he shut the door behind him. In the small confines of the changing room, without the wind, it was a mild temperature. It was still cold but not the hypothermic level of cold outside had been.

He curled up on the bench and prepared to wait.

*

He must’ve dozed off briefly cause the next thing he woke up to was what sounded like somewhere shouting his name. He bounced to his feet only to grunt as his legs gave out underneath him and black spots appeared in front of his eyes. He kneeled on the ground breathing heavily. He was so tired.

“GORDON!”

He lifted his head as he heard a familiar voice shout his name. He almost cried in relief.

“John!” He shouted, or tried to anyway, it came out more like the pathetic whine of an injured animal.

He pushed open the door to the changing room and half crawled, half stumbled out onto the grass.

“John!” he tried again as he managed to push himself into a standing position.

There was running footsteps in his direction and he tensed slightly until a steadying hand was placed on his shoulder and John’s face filled his vision.

“Geez Gordon, you’re freezing.”

That was all it took and Gordon pushed himself into John’s arm, violent sobs wracking his small frame.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he cried.

John was startled momentarily but was quick to return his little brothers hug, wrapping his arms around Gordons ice cold skin.

“You’re okay.” He reassured.

John was so warm. Gordons chest was tight as he cried out all the emotions he’d kept in the past few hours. Eventually John stepped back, grabbing one of Gordon’s arms and placing it around his shoulder to help Gordon walk. They limped slowly towards what Gordon hoped was a car. His limbs feeling lethargic and his feet were stinging from his previous walk.

John helped him into the passenger side of the car before rushing around the other side to turn on the heating. John got out again and returned with a thick blanket that he threw over his little brothers shivering form. He finally settled into the drivers seat and started the engine.

John glanced over at his little brother worriedly. “You need to tell me what happened Gordon”

Gordon buried his face in the blanket, feeling tear well up in his eyes again.

“You were right okay?” Gordon said defensively. “I shouldn’t have trusted those guys.”

“Did they hurt you?” John questioned quietly. He had been imagining the worst for the past couple of hours.

“They just left me out in the cold, half-naked and soaking wet.” Gordon grumbled bitterly before whispering. “I thought I was going to die.”

John barely caught that last part but hearing the vulnerability in his usually boisterous little brother made his blood boil.

“I’m going to kill those guys.”

Gordon startled. He’d never heard John sound so angry.

“It’s my fault John, I should have listened to you.”

“I never should have let you go in the first place.” John sighed. “Those guys have caused me so much trouble over the past 4 years.”

“You couldn’t have stopped me John, I’m just glad you still came to find me.” Gordon shuddered when he thought of what could have happened.

“I will always come for you Gordon. Always.” John promised.

Gordon settled back into his seat, finally warming up. He made a mental note to listen to John more in the future. John was always right. Why did none of them ever listen to him?

[valkyriesryde]

Kia Ora

MARCH - THE LONE KIWI

Pairing: Avengers x OC Samantha Thompson, Bucky Barnes x OC Samantha Thompson (eventually...)

Summary: It’s introduction time, let’s see if Samantha can make an impression. 

Word Count: 1,185

A/N: This is part one of The Lone Kiwi!! I’m going to be using this series to mess around with some writing styles so let me know what you guys think :D also if anyone would like to make a header for this that would be fab because I cannot

Masterlist

~~

Dear Grandpa,

So today was the day. I finally met all of the Avengers and I know we talked this morning on the phone but you told me to write you letters so I thought I would tell you about today. It went well...I think. I’ve met Steve and Tony before, obviously, I met them in the interviewing process. The first person I met today was James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, you know him right? The one with the metal arm. 

Bucky sauntered into the kitchen as a detour on his way to the team meeting, he wasn’t late, in fact at this rate he’ll probably be early. Steve had been telling him there was a surprise and they all had money on what it was going to be. Bucky, ever the realist had bet that it was going to be another full team mission. 

When he rounded the corner into the kitchen he didn’t expect to see a small curly haired brunette with a folder under her arm and a travel mug in her hand. The woman smiled at him over her mug as his eyebrows knitted down.

“Mōrena,” she beamed at him and before he could even get a breath out she was out the door. The pot of coffee left hot and half empty on the counter for him.

It was so embarrassing! I was already nervous but running into him in the kitchen?! Pops I just darted out of there I didn’t know what else to do!

Tony let out a sigh, Clint wasn’t there yet but they were already running behind schedule. “Alright listen up.” He clapped his hands together and everybody’s attention was on the man at the end of the table. “First things first, the little surprise ol’Cap and I have been keeping from you.” A couple of groans let out through the room, most eyes left Tony and landed on the woman who sat by his side as she squirmed in her seat and Bucky realised she was the same one from the kitchen. 

“Kia ora, um no hello. Shit,” she scratches her jaw and takes a deep breath before starting again. “Hi, my name is Samantha. I’m a research analyst and I’m really excited to work with you all.” She looked towards Steve who nodded and gave her a reassuring smile which she quickly returned before sitting back down. 

“Thanks, Samantha,” Steve said taking her place at the head of the table. She kept her eyes on the folder in front of her, picking at the corners of the paper and avoiding the curious eye of the rest of the team.

Steve, I think, is going to be a good friend. He’s already been so welcoming to me. I think you’d like him, you two would get along talking about politics and history and he’s really into cars and jazz. 

“Another Sam? Isn’t one bad enough?” Bucky piped up smirking towards Sam. 

“Hardy har ya dick,” Sam rolled his eyes before turning to Samantha, “we’ll need a nickname for you so people don’t get confused. Welcome aboard Samantha,” he smiled warmly at her. 

I don’t think I should have been as nervous as I was, to be honest. They were all pretty welcoming of me and seemed to take a genuine interest in me which was nice. It might take some time to get to know everyone and fit in but I’ve never struggled with fitting in, like a chameleon right? 

Clint stumbled into the room as Steve stood with his arms crossed. He smiled at Samantha before turning to Natasha, “newbie?” 

“Yup” she replied holding out her hand.

“Ahh fuck,” he said slapping a five dollar bill into her open palm. “So who are ya? What do we know about her?” His head whipped around between his friends and Samantha with a half smile. 

“Uh, I’m Samantha, research analyst,” she mumbled out. Clint rested his feet on the table and looked at Samantha as she continued to squirm.

“Yea but that’s boring stuff, what’s your favourite colour?”

“Clint really?”

“I want to get to know her! We’re obviously going to be working closely, none of you are curious?” That turned some heads and then all eyes were back on her as Steve sat back down, letting Samantha answer Clint.

“Uh...lilac. Lilac is my favourite colour.” She swallowed and continued picking at the paper.

It was like being under a microscope. They’re the world’s best spies and they were all looking at me! It was terrible and so embarrassing, I clammed up for a second.

“Wait, what’s that accent?” Wanda said curiously but Natasha held her hand up before Samantha could answer.

“Clint?” Eyes turned from Samantha to Clint as he tapped his chin. Samantha eyed him, she took in the bandages over his knuckles and her lips twitched when she saw the purple hearing aids in his ears when he turned towards Natasha. “Show us what you got.”

“As you say Nat-attack. Samantha! Say something interesting, read something from that lil file out. But nothing about where you’re from.” He pointed a finger at her. Steve dropped his head into his hands, one meeting without games would be nice. The rest of them watched carefully, Clint had an ear for accents, he said the whole being hard of hearing helps because he has to focus more with different accents. So when Samantha opened the file and opened her mouth to read out the first sentence she saw, Clint’s entire attention was on her.

Then she lifted her hands. 

“I noticed that you have hearing aids, I’m rusty but I know some sign language.” She signed. Natasha and Clint were taken aback briefly, everyone continued to watch with more intrigue. 

“That is not American sign language. English speaking country though,” he replied with a quirked brow. 

“Yes. Sorry..rusty,” she shrugged, “what is your favourite colour?” Clint smiled widely and pulled at the purple shirt he wore. Samantha nodded knowingly at him. “Of course,” she smiled at him.

“She’s a kiwi,” he said to Natasha. “I thought maybe Canadian at first but it was definitely the southern hemisphere and then maybe Australian but you’re too nice.”

“You’re too kind.” 

“Your speech is lazy and informal as well,” he pointed out, “you’ll make a perfect addition to the team.” He smiled warmly and Samantha returned it, biting back so she didn’t beam. 

Clint seems cool. I think he’s basically taken me under his wing. Get it. Wing. Because he’s Hawkeye. He gave me the ‘exclusive tour’ after the meeting. Apparently, Steve had missed the best spots. The spots were pretty cool, I’ll have to email you some pictures. 

The rest of the meeting was pretty uneventful, Tony got them to shut up and focus and then we moved on to business. That stuff is confidential though sorry. Anyway so yeah, that was me meeting the team. I’m hoping I’ll get a chance to get to know them later. For now, it’s like...2am whoops. Should probably get some sleep. Big day tomorrow. 

Love you lots,

Sammie

~~~

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

Permanent Taglist (open): @witch-of-letters @tonystankschild @morsmordrethings @buckysdumbmetalarm @marvelsangels @momobaby227 @weirdlyokaywithit @disgustangg @bucky-blogs @sebbbystaaan @geeksareunique @stuckonjbbarnes @ellieslifefails @mushyjellybeans @lovesmesomehiddles @nat-alia-novna @this-kitten-is-smitten

Bucky Taglist (open): @bxrnsfeyson​ @brilliantbellesoares @supraveng @chubby-dumplin @meganlikesfandoms @mood-pancakes

[programaticallydelicious]

Relativity

>5,393 messages intercepted en route. >5,380 messages hidden. [Filter Options]

>0001 - 5 months, 2 days ago.

This is Commander Willingham, of Colony Z197. We arrived a few weeks ago and started initial setup. The planet turned out to be far more suitable than thought when we left. We're ahead of schedule, and should have a proper landing pad and housing fabbed by the time the second contingent arrives.

All tests thus far show Z197, or 'Ziggy', is an ideal candidate for large scale habitation. Data will be sent as available.

>0002 - 5 months, 2 days ago. /Personal Message: Cassandra Willingham/

Heyo Cass. I know you'll be all grown up by the time you hear this, but I wanted to send it anyway. We just finished a lot of the hard stuff we wanted to get out of the way, and I wanted to let you know mom and I already miss you. It's only been a month and a half for us, so it's still taking a bit to settle in.

I have a lot more I wanna say, but if I hold up the comms any longer, someone's probably gonna break the door down. Love you.

>0003 - 4 months, 15 days ago.

This is Commander Willingham, of Colony Z197. By popular vote, the colony has been officially dubbed "Ziggy". Appropriate paperwork will come along shortly.

We've managed to set up enough permanent housing for the next round of colonists. Setting up the farms is taking a bit longer, but you can't rush nature.

We're working on a proper sensor not to scan the system, see what kind of materials might be hiding in plain view.

>0004 - 4 months, 14 days ago. /Personal Message: Cassandra Willingham/

Hey sweetie. Sorry I'm not keeping you updated. It's been a busy few weeks, getting everything set up for everyone.

Mom and I are in a proper house now, and there's a room here all for you, if you ever come. I know it'll be hard to adjust, but we'd love to give it a shot. We miss you so much.

Love you, Cass.

>0005 - 4 months, 3 days ago.

This is Commander Willingham, of Ziggy Colony. We got the sensor net online a week ago, but we've spent the whole time since double-checking and testing it to be sure.

The results, attached below, are absolutely insane. I don't know if this system is unusual or Sol is the rare one, but this entire system is full of valuable materials and minerals. We're prepping a set of preliminary fab schematics for miners, but we'll have to wait on the next ship before we have enough people to man them.

>0006 - 4 months, 1 day again. /Personal Message: Cassandra Willingham/

Sweetie, it’s dad. I know I’m not talking to you much. It’s just so busy! Who knew setting up a whole new world would be so much work? There’s so much to do, and we’ve seen some pretty neat stuff here.

I’m sure you’ll love it here, if you join us.

>0007 - 3 months, 5 days ago.

This is Commander Willingham, Ziggy Colony. The second round of colonists still hasn’t shown up. We’re getting a bit worried out here.

The farms are all set up, and we’re starting to fab some proper automation for them so we can move people to other projects. Surveys are showing some promising sites for nearby settlements as time goes on. As always, data is attached to the message.

>0008 - 3 months, 5 days ago. /Personal Message: Cassandra Willingham/

Heyo Cass. We’ve been up to all sorts of things since the last time I said anything. Found an awesome camping spot up in the mountains, even better than the one we took you to for your fifth birthday. Crystal clear lake, beautiful snow-capped mountains, the works.

I helped seed a whole forest there, so it should be absolutely gorgeous by the time you get here. We’re getting ready to start some pretty big stuff. Just gotta wait for more people to show up.

We miss you, sweetie. I hope we’ll see you soon.

>0009 - 0 months, 4 days ago.

The sensor net finally detected something Solward today. A bit late, and it looks different from what we’re expecting, but hey. Good to have you. I’m sure the sensors are just picking up on a new kind of engine.

Will report again once the new colonists are settled in.

>0010 - 0 months, 3 days ago. /Personal Message: Cassandra Willingham/

Sweetie, it’s been a busy few months for us. But it looks like things will be able to calm down in a bit. I just heard we’ve got sight on the new colonists, so once they’re settled in we can get some real industry going down here. Better late than never, eh?

I’ll be able to start sending you some proper messages soon en-

What? They’re what? I’m sorry Cass, I’ve gotta go.

>0011 - 0 months, 2 days ago.

This is Commander Willingham, Ziggy Colony. We’ve made first contact with an alien race. I wish this was good news, I really, really do. Since they look to have come from home, I can only assume you already know.

Especially since their first broadcast was a demand that we surrender and accept them as our masters. In English.

Obviously, that isn’t going to fly. We’ve got the fabs working up heavy explosives round the clock, and the mining ships make surprisingly good fighters. I don’t think we’ll be able to hold them off for long, but we’re making them pay for every soul in blood. Or ichor. Or whatever it is they have.

>0012 - 0 months, 1 day ago.

Commander Willingham, Ziggy Colony. Things aren’t looking good for us. Half of the colony is already gone, and they’ve got the planet roped off from the rest of the system. We’re still giving everything we’ve got, but the mining ships can’t keep up with them anymore.

We can’t keep up with them anymore. They’re dealing with everything we come up with, and doing it faster every time.

>0013 - 0 months, 0 days, 3 hours ago.

Commander Willingham. Ziggy Colony is on its last legs. We’re locked in to the area right around the spaceport, those of us who’re left. Not much we can do with the colony ship, but even now we’re still doing what we can.

We’re not going down without a fight, and we’re going to take as many of them with us as we can. I’ve got people looking at the ship’s drives and generators, rigging up a present for when they kick in the door.

>Record Message, Open Broadcast.

This is Admiral Cassandra Willingham, of the Unchained Living Terran Retaliatory Armada. All survivors of Ziggy Colony, be advised that rescue is here, and hold on as long as you can. All Zlanmiri Imperial Assaulters in system, be advised that if you do not stand down, you will be utterly annihilated.

This message will repeat in Zlanmiri.

>Record Message, Private. /Recipient: Commander Willingham, Z197 Colonial Expedition/

Hi dad, I’m home. Sorry I’m late, we ran into some nasty traffic on the way.

[youknowmymethods]

Content Creator Interview #2

In this week’s interview, fandom friends @lilsherlockian1975 and @mrsmcrieff talk about whether they found Sherlock hot or not at first sight, how publicly sharing their work changed their writing, and the hardest thing about writing smutfic (pun fully intended).

And for those who don’t know, today is Lillian’s Birthday, so m’dear, Many Happy Returns!!!!

Hey, so Lilsherlockian1975 and myself, MrsMCrieff, have decided to interview each other for Aine’s challenge. We’re going to try to answer each other’s questions but there is always the danger of us going massively off piste. Our conversations in the past have been eclectic and very wide-ranging not to mention M rated.

 Anyway, I thought we could start by saying how we came into the fandom and more than that writing in the fandom. Lil, do you want to start?

Lil: All right, my sister on another continent, here’s how it went: As I’ve explained about finding The Full House on Pinterest, let’s explore what came before that moment, then just after... I was working third shift at a hotel (I had to as Mr Lil and I didn’t really have any childcare options at the time, so we just worked opposite shifts). The hotel was in a very small town - we were never busy, some nights we sold maybe 2 rooms - I usually spent my time watching Netflix. After making my way through Doctor Who, Star Trek Next Gen, Voyager then (God help me) DS9, Farscape and Firefly, I’d finally run out of anything to watch. You’d be surprised how quickly you can burn through a series binge watching for 8 hours at a time (and getting paid for it!).

 Then… then I found Sherlock. Well, that changed things… a bit.

 “Good Lord, who is the Cumberstud chap and why won’t he have all the sex with me!?” was my first thought, my second was, “Maybe I have a chance with the dishy DI?” and third? “Oh… what fresh hell is this ‘Mycroft’? Yummy!” Then finally, “Ahh, did the casting director somehow read my diary? Creepy but… all right.” To my defense, it was late and I usually worked on very little sleep. Also, I’m a kinky bitch.

 I’d never been involved in a ‘fandom proper’, I suppose. That’s not to say that I wasn’t a fangirl. I am and always have been. I was hugely into the Kevin Smith movies, going as far as visiting the Quick Stop and RST Video in Lenardo, NJ, respectively, as well as The Secret Stash, in Red Bank. I was a comic book geek in my youth, Marvel mostly, but some DC as well.

 After reading The Full House, I desperately needed MORE Sherlock and luckily enough, there was more to be found.

 At first I was just reading, then I wrote and posted a couple of (horrible) fics and met this fellow writer named MrsMCrieff (I might have had a little ‘writing crush’ on you, Mrs!). We chatted on FF.net and struck up a friendship.

 So, for me, writing came before fandom. Mrs was doing some betaing for me, but I didn’t ask for help often; I hated bothering her all the time for the multitude of stories I was turning out. At some point around here, I got an elusive invite to AO3 from sherlockian87, bless her soul, because I kept trying to join and couldn’t get a blessed invitation. Also around this time, I had written a prompt and got a PM from MizJoely asking if she could fix some of my mistakes (she was very sweet about it, even though I totally flipped - half fangirling, half losing my shit because ‘Crap, I screwed up so bad, here was The MizJoely asking if she could edit out my mistakes!’) but she wasn’t being critical at all, of course, just helpful as I soon found out. Shortly after, now having formed a friendship with MIz, she suggested that I start a Tumblr blog. And that’s how it all started.

Yes, sorry… I, um, tend to be a tad loquacious. Writing out my answers doesn’t help one little bit.

 Okay, Mrs, right back atcha!

 Mrs: OK, shall I try to be more concise? I’ll probably fail as I’m terrible as writing short fics they always seem to end up spread over multiple chapters.

 I’m another one who had always been a fangirl, Doctor Who, Buffy, Twilight, vampire Diaries (yeah, I love my vampires) but I’d also been a Sherlock Holmes fan. I’d read all the books in my teens, watched the Basil Rathbone and Jeremy Brett adaptations and even stayed at the Sherlock Holmes hotel on Baker St so when a new series was advertised it was an easy sale.

 I was late to the cumberobsession though. I have to admit watching the first two series as they came out and I remember thinking I like them but it’s a shame Sherlock isn’t that hot. I know, I know, I’m embarrassed even as I write that.

 It all changed after watching season 3 and I blame the Sherlolly kiss 100%. I watched the series, DELETED the records!! And then realised I was spending a lot of time thinking about Sherlock and Benedict...that turned into looking him up online and from there it was a short step to reading Sherlolly fics on fanfic (I was already reading fics for other shipping obsessions). Anyway, it didn’t take long before Sherlolly took over all my other ships and Benedict was my number one hottie.

 As for writing, I hadn’t written anything fiction based since school and school was a long time ago...almost thirty years. But one day I was looking for a specific fic, I wanted to read about Sherlock and Molly having to share body heat and I just couldn’t find anything that satisfied me. I’m not sure why but in that moment I decided to write it myself and in half an hour I’d written Frozen...my first ever fic. It took another couple of hours to pluck up the courage to post it and I clearly remember feeling a bit sick and my hand shaking as I pressed the final button to post.

 Thankfully, I almost immediately started to receive positive reviews and feedback and it wasn’t long before I started to write more...the rest as they say is history. Lil got in touch soon after and it was fun chatting to another writer just starting out. We soon found we were not dissimilar in age and both had two sons and the friendship started there.

 We’ve been through quite a lot over the last few years Lil and written some fab stories. Wouldn’t you agree?

 (I should let on that we are now faffing about trying to find the original list of questions...we are trying to be professional).

 Ok Lil, so I’ve looked at Aine’s questions and they look really hard. Any preferences on which ones you want to answer :).

 Lil: I think a great follow up to that first one is this: How did posting your first story change your process of writing? So I’m shooting it back to you, Mrs, and you can send me that one or select a new one for me. Tag, you’re it!

 Mrs: I can tell you quite simply how it changed my process of writing...given that it was my first piece of writing in 30 years I was starting from scratch when it came to any process. One thing that I started with that’s held true for me ever since is that my stories are fully mapped out and written before I even start posting the first chapter. I will edit and make refinements but the bones of the story are there.

 I know lots of people post a chapter and then write the next chapter but that would put me under too much pressure. The downside is that if someone gives me a prompt they could be waiting months before they see it posted. The upside is if I’ve started posting a fic you will get the end of it as it’s already been written.

 There have only been two exceptions to this method: Sherlock Holmes, Vampire which I worked on over a year or so posting four chapters every so often as I wrote them...it was stressful. And the other is Never Have I Ever which was/is more of a collection of one shots woven together into a fic.

 How about you Lil? How did it change for you?

 Lil: So, I’d been writing little stories and whatnot for years and years but, having no idea that there was such a thing as ff.net or AO3, I had no place to put them. Writing was always a very, very distant dream of mine. I have loads of notebooks filled with stories, story ideas and my own personal ramblings (unfortunately, my Tumblr followers now have to read the ‘ramblings business’). I stopped for many years after my roommate/best friend since childhood found some of my writing in college that I’d carefully hidden under my bed. I came home to find her in my room, sat on the floor, on the phone with our Art History professor (whom she was sleeping with), as she read him my story and laughed hysterically at its awfulness.

 I was devastated and vowed never to write again.

 But that changed, of course. Those first maybe ten stories were just me letting my mind go and getting out what I wanted to say (aided by liberal amounts of wine). Since then, however, my ‘process’ has changed drastically. I don’t always write an outline (never for one shots, which I write often) but I generally do for long fics. If not, it’s easy for me to get lost and miss critical points. My writing has become more about ‘layering’ for lack of a better word.

 I found after those first few posted fics, that in going back and re-reading them I wanted to make changes. I didn’t re-edit them (because I’m lazy), but it made me realize that my writing required more time and proofing before posting; that first draft is just the start for me - a thin layer of primer paint on a canvas, if you will. I then read over it and add more details and more and more until I get the desired effect. Again, much like oil painting, I have to build things up, layer by layer. This works for me; I have no idea if it’s a proper method of writing. So, posting my first fic(s) helped me learn that I shouldn’t be so trigger happy about posting if the story wasn’t ready.

 Okay, Mrs, this one is geared specifically towards you. I don’t think anyone would argue with me about your supernatural ability to write ‘case fics’, so let me ask: Which do you prefer writing, case fics or fluffy smut-filled romps? And why?

 Mrs: Oh God, ask me something easy why don’t you. Both, I like writing both. I love the depth of a case fic, the idea, the research, plotting it out and working out the characters and detail but it’s so time consuming and I often write a bit, leave it, come back to it etc. etc. so a detailed case fic can take six months.

 Fluff on the other hand is less satisfying but quicker (my minds already in the gutter with an analogy).

 Woohoo I kept is fairly short for once. So, here’s one that’s good for you. I’m endlessly envious of how easily you make friends and how you know so many people in the fandom whereas I’m the introverted hermit. Which other authors are you friends with, and how have they help you become a better writer?

 Lil: Goodness! You make me sound like a social butterfly (Mr Lil calls me that all the time!). I like people, plain and simple. Other than you, I am close to MizJoely and Darnedchild, that’s no secret, so I’ll talk about them first (you included, because you’ve made me a better writer, I’m sure of it - have actual proof!)

 I cannot count the ways Miz has helped me improve my writing. She figuratively took me by the ear and said “okay, you don’t suck but do you even know what a comma is used for?” No, not those actual words, she was much kinder about it, but I got the hidden meaning and I needed it, trust me. She also challenges me and is not afraid to be honest with me when I’ve written something that isn’t good or perhaps doesn’t fit. I know I’ve improved since she started betaing for me, like a 1000%. And Child… When I volunteered to beta for the Big Bang Challenge, I had no idea what I was getting into, but man… she’d written and enormous fic. Good, amazing really, but it was longer than anything I’d ever worked on before. It scared the shit out of me but I really think it was exactly what I needed. Betaing someone else’s work can really make you see your own mistakes from a new perspective. I feel like I jumped ahead after working on the BBC with Child. As for you, MrsMCrieff, just the other day I had The Best compliment… someone actually thought I was British! Yes, that happened. I can only attribute that little feat to you, my friend. You’ve taught me when to add a ‘u’, when not to zed and about many different terms like pavement, taps, hob, loo, trousers (we really don’t say that here!). Not to mention the fact that most European men aren’t circumcised. Who knew?! It’s pretty common in the US.

 But that’s just a few. I cannot count the number of fandom friends who have helped me and all the ways that they’ve done so. That doesn’t mean I won’t try…

 There’s likingthistoomuch who always listens to my ideas and encouraged me to post my first Harry Potter fic. OhAine has been a true friend from the very beginning, always insightful and supportive. Mellovesall who is just too sweet for words and always helps with edits, no matter what’s going on in her life. Kendrapendragon who let me bounce ideas for my Mirror Has Two Faces AU off of her for like a whole day! the-sapphiresky who has helped me with this historical AU that may or may not ever see the light of day. Allthebellsinvenice who answered about a dozen questions (over two years!) for Dig Down Deep when I’d panic about some D/s situation I’d written myself into. o0katiekins0o who backs me up when I’m in the middle of a sensitive subject. I can always depend on her to help me when I’m afraid I’m crossing a line. Broomclosetkink, Lord help me! She’s pinch hit for me when I’ve written a fic for Miz or if I just need a good laugh. She’s the best. Sweets… it’s very hard to talk about sweet-sweet-escape. I still cannot even bring myself read her stories or the ones I wrote for her without breaking down, but no one was more supportive or kind to me than Sweets. I miss her so much.

 Then there’s all the love and support I received from everyone during The Fic That Shall Not Be Named debacle. That’s when I knew how much this fandom (well, this ship, really) had my back! I will never forget how much love and support I received. Bless you all!

 I’m forgetting people and I hate that. But I really do love all my fandom friends as if I see them and hang out with them every day. I mean that.

 Okay, Mrs, here’s one for you (I’m going back to the list for this one because I like it and I think it’s interesting): What’s the most difficult thing about writing characters of the opposite sex?

 Mrs: See, see I said you knew loads of people!

 As for your question that’s easy to answer...knowing what it feels like when they get aroused and orgasm. I’m more than happy being female but it would be kind of interesting just to be a guy for one day. It would improve my writing no end.

 On a wider note when it comes to writing characters I don’t think any of us made it easy on ourselves when we decided to try to write being a high functioning sociopathic genius. I think I can speak for most of us when I say he’s not the easiest person to try to write authentically. I just wish I had half his knowledge then I wouldn’t feel like such an idiot when I’m writing him.

 I gave my youngest son the option of any number between 1 and 40. He chose 7 so does writing energise or exhaust you?

 Lil: It absolutely energises me! I do get frustrated trying to find time to write, but actually writing does amazing things for my mental and physical self. I find that I’m much more productive around the house when I’m in the middle of a writing jag. I’ll sit and write for a while, then get up and pound out some chores (usually more quickly as to get back to my computer). Somehow, this works for me. Frankly, it’s probably got to do with my ADHD. I’m the kind of person who needs to do multiple things at once. I’m the same at work; I cannot just stand behind the registrar for 8 hours. I practically beg my managers for extra work, which they’re happy to give me.

 I have an original question for you, love: How does a bad review affect you?

 Mrs: I’ll be honest I don’t react well to a bad review but it does depend on whether I think it’s valid or not. You probably know each and every time I’ve had one because I will probably have sent you a screen shot and asked your opinion. Thankfully they have been few and far between, occasionally they have made me think...especially if I’m being accused of using a tired old trope and I’ve made the effort to up my game in future fics but often they are just being nasty for the sake of it.

 Writing is such a personal thing though, we give a piece of ourselves in each and every fic so it’s hard to not take criticism very personally.

 Same question to you Lil.

 Lil: Oh, I’m a giant baby about a bad review and have been known to take it very personally. At first I brood… like really hard, thinking on the entire thing much longer than necessary. I suppose it depends on the nature and tone, for the most part though. If it’s attacking and spiteful, I’ll attack right back but if it’s coming from a ‘goodish’ place, I do try to look at my writing a bit more objectively (I don’t always succeed). Anonymous bad reviews get to me the most. The fact that I cannot reply drives me up the wall!

 Okay, we’re wrapping this up (else we could go on forever!) Thanks so much and a big thanks to Aine for organizing this as well!

 Mrs & Lil

Next Week:

Posting on Friday 01 March it’s @ohaine ‘s turn (eek!) to interview @ashockinglackofsatin

[punkpuns]

Answering Asks Again

Hi there, I’ve built up a bit of a backlog on asks so here are a whole bunch of them answered.

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Friend I’m sorry I got to you late - but maybe that’ll help, at school you should have a selection of thrift shops around where other students have been donating stuff as they’ve moved off campus and that’s a goldmine. I’d say hit the thrift shops, find some stuff you think looks good and is comfortable, and shop only on half-off days. If there’s nothing that quite looks like you want it to, mod it.

And look, tossing out everything you’ve got and starting fresh is pretty wasteful - maybe see if there’s someone in your dorm who would be down to trade? Maybe you could set up a facebook clothing swap event for people on campus? Use it as an excuse to get to know people. Or mod the clothes you’ve got - khakis and a polo can be turned into cutoffs and a tanktop pretty easily, and a stencil plus some acrylic paint from the art supply section of the campus bookstore can make you some pretty awesome custom stuff, you can dye even the most pastel of sundresses black.

Experiment, figure out what you like. Start slow and add one piece at a time - maybe stovepipe jeans aren’t your thing so buying four pairs would be a mistake. Maybe you only want to wear yoga pants and I salute you, but that’s up to you to figure out.

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This feels a little bit trollish because I’m having trouble envisioning an adult who works in a law office and in local politics but hasn’t figured out how to dress in a way they want to or hasn’t figured out whether or not they should.

I’m going to assume you’re young in which case I’m going to actually recommend that you don’t bring much of your style to work for one reason: optics are important.

If you’re involved in local government, work at a law office, and are a punk it stands to reason that you’re pretty politically active and motivated to make changes in the world, and it sounds like you’re uniquely positioned to do so! But here’s the thing: the last time I went to talk to the city council and a group of us showed up in black the local paper called us “kids” and “extras from a Depeche Mode video.” I now own a mousey brown skirt suit and a wig to go talk to the city council.

It’s great to express yourself, it’s less great if expressing yourself prevents you from achieving your goals or making the changes you want to see in the world. It’s really easy to pigeonhole punks as slacktivist poseurs who masturbate to Richard Spencer punching remixes and never vote and that’s because a lot of punks live up to that image.

So I guess what my real advice is is feel out your office, maybe you can get away with skull earrings or a grommeted wristband for your watch but keep your hair to neutral colors if it’s going to get you fired. Activists need attorneys and paralegals and local city councils on our side so there’s value in sucking it up and dealing with the system until you’ve got uplifted enough voices to change it.

Unless you work at, like, the Exxon law offices or with a prosecutor or something. In which case ? why? would you be here? of all places?

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Okay the true punk answer is wear whatever you’re comfortable in. Nobody should care what you’re wearing and if they do they’re an asshole.

That said I understand why it can be uncomfortable to stand out in a crowd - a dark pair of pants, a tee shirt, and a hoodie (if it’s cold enough for one) should be physically comfortable and won’t make you stand out like a sore thumb. Wear comfortable shoes that are thick enough to protect your feet in case you get stepped on, make sure your jeans have enough pockets that you don’t have to carry a purse.

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ALWAYS. If you want in on this donate $10 to the ACLU, RAICES, a local abortion fund, Planned Parenthood, or the United Way Flint Water Fund. Any of these groups will email you a receipt for your donation. Screenshot that receipt and send it to me through tumblr messenger along with a picture of whoever you want illustrated, if you want to see them as a punk, goth, or metalhead, and the names of their 3 favorite bands and I will get an illustration back to you (1 figure only, waist up, grays, no background).

If you donate more I’ll do a more detailed illustration. Here’s an example of one that I did for one of my college professors:

She donated $100. I’ve got limited time to draw so if you want a drawing like that one ^^^ message me first and make sure I’ve got my schedule clear enough for it.

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Boy howdy do I ever:

https://www.ocweekly.com/five-native-american-bands-to-give-thanks-for-6596916/

https://www.pastemagazine.com/articles/2016/09/8-artists-exploding-the-concept-of-native-american.html

http://remezcla.com/lists/music/los-angeles-latinx-punk-bands/

http://tanyatagaq.com/

http://www.toiletovhell.com/here-are-some-indigenousnative-metal-bands-to-help-you-celebrate-columbus-day/

http://remezcla.com/features/music/the-ogs-goth-playlist/

http://www.dazeddigital.com/music/article/38098/1/photos-from-la-s-latinx-metal-scene

https://www.mixcloud.com/LovelyMetalhead/lovely-talks-heavy-episode-25-black-and-metal/

http://lord-kitschener.tumblr.com/post/158978645618/so-goth-i-was-born-black

https://www.racked.com/2017/10/23/16492192/black-goth-girls

http://coilhouse.net/2012/09/i-am-so-goth-i-was-born-black/

http://www.dazeddigital.com/music/article/28372/1/why-is-the-history-of-punk-music-so-white

http://diningwithdana.tumblr.com/post/115035345741/pocs-in-gothdarkindustrial-music-hey-fab-bats

http://www.dazeddigital.com/music/article/28419/1/the-black-punk-pioneers-who-made-music-history

http://www.post-punk.com/goth-so-white-black-representation-in-the-post-punk-scene/

As to whether I’ve got any comics in particular about race in the goth/punk/metal scene, I’ve touched on it here and there and discussed why racism doesn’t belong in the scene but I’ve never gone in depth about the people of color who have been erased from the history, but I would very much like to and I have some notes that I’m collecting to do so.

[becuzpurple]

NUMB, chapter 1 - Clean Slate

Well, chapter 1 is finally done - enjoy!

(link to previous chapter - intro)

CHAPTER 1 - Clean Slate

December

I ended the call, sitting alone at the small, corner table in disbelief.  After a minute I realized my feet were happy-dancing and I was grinning like a loon in public.

I glanced around the tiny cafe as I took another sip of my hot salted caramel mocha. Thankfully, no one was paying me any attention.

Well, I wanted to change things up, right?  Start fresh...clean slate?  This would certainly do that in a major way.

I got the job!

...

I had six weeks to get my life in order, not that there was very much to do in that respect, before leaving.  I’d already found someone to take over my lease. I still had a month before I needed to give notice at the restaurant.  I didn’t own a car, and had no outstanding loans or any other recurring payments, so there were no loose strings to tie up there, either. My sister agreed to take my cat and let me use her address as my own for any official documentation (banking, etc). And then...my new home would be on the road for at least the next year, assuming everything worked out.

It seemed almost too good to be true - work I love, good pay, lots of travel, and I’d get to practically disappear.  That last thought made me pause and wonder if what I was actually doing was running away from something, albeit legitimately. But, no?  I’d be working within my chosen career, and there was really no one or thing left to run away from.  I wasn’t keeping any secrets from family or friends - they knew about the new job.  I told myself that what I was doing was starting over with a clean slate.  That sounded much better than running away from mistakes and bad memories.

-------

February

I’d been hired as one of two head chefs for Ed Sheeran’s world stadium tour - to actually tour with him (!).  I couldn’t have known beforehand, but he and his team are apparently well-known within the industry for being very close-knit with and taking very good care of their people - even those in catering, it would seem.  I still can’t believe I landed this position.  And to think it never would have happened if Brandon hadn’t left - I’d still be in an unhealthy relationship, still cooking at the same restaurant with no opportunity for advancement, still living an unfulfilling life.  I don’t really believe in fate, or that ‘things happen for a reason’.  I think life is more a series of random happenings, influenced by any number of factors.  But I will say that in this case, losing Brandon seemed to have helped me land my dream job.

I’d so far met Ed briefly, a handful of times, and he was lovely. He’s down to earth, humble...very likable.  He remembered my name after meeting me only once, which surprised me, since I know he meets a stupid number of people every day.  He calls me ‘Samantha’.  I usually go by just ‘Sam’, but for some reason I’ve never corrected him.   

I inherited an abundantly stocked mobile kitchen, complete with state-of-the-art appliances and gadgets.  When I inquired about procuring one or two additional pieces, not an eye was batted.  Turns out I’m allocated a generous monthly budget just for things like that.

There are two catering teams, and a very nice man named Jonas Brandt is the head of the other one. He’s from Germany, in his late 40’s, with a wife and two young boys back home. He worked Ed’s arena tour last year, and is a wonderful friend and mentor to me.  He was quite happy with my hire, and confident in my abilities, so that’s a great boost of confidence for me, too.

This job demands a lot, and much of it doesn’t even involve food, directly. There’s a lot of planning involved.  I found I have to be about 5 steps ahead to make sure everything is ready when we get to each new location.  My team and I rotate with Jonas and his team - one feeds the advance crew as they set up everything days before the show while the other stays with the rest of the crew who don’t need to be there until the day before or day of the show.

In addition to the huge amount of background work and planning, I oversee the actual food preparation and service, as well.  There is a very strong social aspect to sharing meals - it brings people together, literally, and I want in on that. These were generally very nice, fun, happy folks, and I love being a part this wacky, traveling family of friends.

-------

March, Dunedin, New Zealand

I screwed up.  Well, someone on my team did, but that means it falls on me. My planned menu for that night sort of fell apart.  We were to serve Kiwi burgers as the main entree that evening, and Hokey Pokey ice cream for dessert - both local favorites.  Someone dropped the ball, and one of the main elements of Kiwi burgers, beetroot, wasn’t ordered, nor was the specialty ice cream. To make matters worse, I didn’t personally receive word of this oversight until food prep was already underway.  I made a few frantic phone calls, but it was too late to pull together an order as large as what was needed. I still had plenty of food for everyone, including gourmet burgers - just not Kiwi burgers...no local flair.  It was something I had started to pride myself in - the daily tie-ins or nods to the cuisine of wherever we happened to be.  I was...not happy.

At the very last minute I was able to score an enormous amount of Jaffas, the sugar-coated, orange-flavored chocolate balls that are a favorite among New Zealanders.  Between those and the supply of plain, old vanilla ice cream and mini apple pies we already had in the freezer, there were plenty of sweets for after dinner.  But that hardly made up for what I considered a failed main course.

I had no idea if anyone besides my staff and myself even realized that the meal wasn’t quite what it was supposed to be.  I must have been in the mood to punish myself, though, because I hovered near the food stations while everyone collected their meals, hoping to gauge their reactions.

No one appeared to even notice, and if they did, no one said anything.  They seemed perfectly oblivious to the beetless state of the burgers, and didn’t even realize they were missing out on specialty ice cream.  Leave it to me to build things up in my head like that.  I felt a little stupid about it, but I can’t help holding myself up to high standards - I’m a perfectionist.

Eventually, I started to make my way back to the kitchen, to take a moment and finally breathe, but before I made it back there I heard someone calling my name.

“Samantha!”  

I looked back to see Ed waving me over to the dessert station.  He’d apparently just filled several red Solo cupfuls of Jaffa balls which were lined up on the table in front of him.  I was a little surprised to see him - he practically never eats with us.  He’s usually either out with friends or busy working with industry colleagues when he’s not on stage - the man's schedule is insane.  So it was just my luck that the one time he was actually there to eat was when I had my big food fail.

I returned his smile with a slightly awkward grin and wave, and backtracked to the dessert station.

“Do you need help with those?”  Because helping Ed Sheeran carry hundreds of tiny chocolate balls would be a totally normal thing, right?  

What is my life? 

He gave me a quick look before returning his attention to the eight or so cups full of candies in front of him, biting his lower lip as he pondered.

“Nah, I think...yeah!”  He grunted triumphantly as he quickly arranged the cups into two groups of four, and picked them all up with fingers extended into each cup.  He looked like a happy lobster proudly waving his claws at me, but he was a little too exuberant about it and Jaffa balls were soon bouncing out of the cups onto the floor.

“Ohhh...”

He looked so abashed I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Um.  That’s not...that wasn’t supposed to happen...”

“Aw, and you were so happy, too,”  I giggled.  We both got down on our hands and knees to collect the wayward Jaffas.

He grinned right back at me lifting an eyebrow mischievously.  “I’m really sorry I dropped my balls on the floor.  Thanks for helping me pick up my balls.”

“I...wow.  You’re welcome, I guess?  Any time.”

I could feel my face flushing, and I know he saw it, too, because he gave me a look of amused pity.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“No, no, it’s fine.  Here, give those over.”  I held out my hands.  I’ll toss them in the kitchen trash.” 

As he did so, a girl with long, curly brown hair passed nearby, curiously looking over at us on the floor.  She gave me a friendly grin, and then demanded of Ed, “What are you up to?  Are you bothering this nice lady?”

“No!  Samantha just...took my dirty balls...”

She looked at him blankly for a moment, then turned to me.  I held out my handful of Jaffa balls for her to see, only slightly mortified.

Shaking her head, she answered, “Right.  Carry on, then,” and continued on her way.

We both grinned after her for a second or two, and then got up and headed to the kitchen.  

“That was Lauren, by the way.  Have you met?”

“No, not yet, but I definitely like her.”

I dumped the dirty Jaffas into a bin and turned back to Ed.

“So, um, I really needed a laugh right about now, so thanks,” I murmured.

“Yeah?  Everything okay?”  We were standing fairly close - right about where personal space becomes defined, and all of his focus was on me.  He has a very sincere face, and really pretty eyes...

I mentally shook myself. Anyway... “Yeah, I was just...stressed about a job thing.” I tried to shrug it off but he was having none of it.

“What, this job? Here?”

“No, it’s nothing, really.  It's fine.”  

He looked so earnestly concerned, almost as if he was personally affronted that my job, which existed because of him, could cause me any stress.  So, I found myself telling him all about the Kiwi Burger Problem.

“Beetroot?”

“Yeah, it’s...a thing here, I guess.  You were all supposed to get an authentic New Zealand meal tonight.”

“Huh.  Well, if it makes any difference, I don’t think anyone here is the wiser. The burgers were fab.  I mean, I would have tried it, for sure...but beetroot on burgers does sound kind of weird.”

I huffed out a quiet laugh, nodding.  “Yeah. ‘When in Rome’, right?  Well,” I shrugged, “At least you got the Jaffa balls...”

At the mention of the Jaffas he looked back towards the dessert station, where he’d left the rest of his candies.  “Oh - gotta go get m’balls!”

I stayed where I was, leaning against the door frame, grinning after him as he made his way back to the dessert station for his...balls.  I knew right then, as he repeated his lobster claw-grab of the cups of candy, that I was going to immensely enjoy knowing him. 

“Been a pleasure, Samantha, see ya soon.”  This time he didn’t wave his already-occupied hands, but nodded at me instead, as he left.  

“Likewise.  Enjoy your balls, Ed,” I called after him.

Only after he was gone did I realize I forgot to even mention the Hokey Pokey ice cream.

---

(next chapter)

As always, I really appreciate any and all feedback.  Likes, comments, reblogs, messages/questions/comments...it’s all good!

 It’s really hard to find motivation to write when you have no idea if anyone likes or cares about what you’re putting out there.  So PLEASE share your thoughts!

-BP💜

[jackzimmermannn]

Queer Eye for the Hockey Guy (~5K)

Queer Eye AU! What was going to be fluff about Bitty and Jack quickly became an entire episode of Queer Eye. If you haven’t seen the show, what are you doing with your life? Credit goes entirely to @aokayinspace and @zimmerhomme for creating the jumping off point for this! Uh, I guess RPF from the perspective that it involves the Fab Five? Very few fic liberties are taking regarding them, they mostly just provide the framework for the story. It mainly focuses on Bitty and Jack. Still, if that bothers you I recommend you move on and read @omgericzimmermann ‘s fic instead (read it on ao3 here) which slots other omgcp characters into the Fab Five (or if it doesn’t bother you, read this one AND Hayley’s!) Inspiration for Bitty’s food rant comes from Ruby Tandoh’s (you may remember her from GBBO) book Eat Up which I’m currently reading and highly recommend! Do some accuracy hand waving with the timeline. Please also excuse excessive comma usage and any typos (tho if there’s anything that makes absolutely no sense, please lmk so I can fix it!), I only do a very cursory proofred bc I can’t be bothered. Enjoy!

It’s like being ambushed.

A very friendly, loud ambush.

Jack is sitting at the kitchen table, methodically alternating between eating a chicken sandwich and doing his statistics homework (he really should have gotten his Math credit out of the way his freshman year) when he hears the doorbell ring, the front door open and Holster shout, no, scream, a  “FUCK YES!” from living room. It’s a testament to how used to the team he is that he doesn’t think anything is amiss until Holster comes running into the kitchen, a man who looks oddly like a white Jesus in his arms. He’s followed up by Ransom who is carrying a small blond man. The rest of the team piles in, followed by three other strangers Jack doesn’t recognize and an entire camera crew.

What ensues is a lot of excited yelling, enthusiastic introductions from the men he doesn’t recognize and curious exploring of the kitchen. Bittle, or Bitty as he told Jack most people call him, is talking sweetly to the Haus oven when it finally occurs to Jack what is happening. “You’re the Fantastic Five.” he says, and everyone laughs.

“You look surprised to see us.” the man who introduced himself as Tan says and Jack ducks his head. “I may have...forgot we were doing this?” Shitty is immediately draped on him, cradling his head. “Forgive him. It would be unfair if he had beauty, brawn and brains.” he chirps. Jack snorts and shrugs him off. Jonathan, who moments ago was bonding with Shitty over his flow, waves dismissively. ���We’ll forgive you, but only because you’re serving me Backstreet Boys realness with these bangs and I can’t wait to get my hands in your hair.”

Jack thinks that’s a compliment, “I’m not sure who that is, but thank you?” The men laugh again, apparently under the impression he’s making a joke, but Holster claps a hand onto Karamo’s shoulder, “No, he’s not joking. Yes, you have your work cut out for you.” Rather than looking shocked, or worse, condescending, Karamo looks pensive. Jack isn’t sure if he should be worried about what Karamo’s thinking.

“Do you think you could give us a tour?” Bobby asks, “Then we can get to know you a little better, get a feel for the space.” Jack nods, “Yeah, of course. Sorry.” Jonathan is gushing over the long “O” in Jack’s “sorry” (apparently his accent is adorable) as he pushes himself to his feet. Jack thinks Bitty may have given him a once over now that he’s at his full height, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it. Bobby is already trailing out into the living room inquiring after any repairs the Haus might need, and Tan is asking him if always wears neon sneakers.

The cameras zooming in and out around him are mildly disconcerting and he stumbles over his words a few times as a result, but he finds himself slowly relaxing anyway.

Jack gives them a tour of the Haus, kicking more stray boxers and jockstraps under furniture before they can be seen than he should have to. When it’s just the team he doesn’t really focus on the state of the Haus as long as it’s not falling apart entirely, but with fresh eyes examining every inch of the space he can’t help but feel a little embarrassed. The look Bittle gives the couch in the living room doesn’t escape him. By the time they get to his bedroom, Jack is glad he at least keeps this room fastidiously clean.

Jack notices Bitty frown at his “Be Better” poster before tugging it down and rolling it up. Before Jack can object, Bobby tosses out the idea of redecorating the Haus living room instead of Jack’s room. Jack firmly agrees, “It’s a shared space so everyone will get to enjoy it. It’s something the whole team will get to use together and keep using even after I’m gone.” Shitty aggressively hugs Jack at the comment, “You big softie. Looking out for the little guy.” Bittle seems to also like the idea. “God is good and that couch’s days are numbered.” he remarks. Jack surprises himself by laughing and Bittle grins at Jack.

Jack smiles back. Maybe this could be fun.

This is not going to be fun.

Karamo gets him first and it’s wildly uncomfortable. Jack knows that he’s just trying to get a feel for what direction to go in, but all the “What do you do for fun?” question combined with the camera focused on him just inches away leave him anxious. He’s given about ten different variations of, “I don’t know. Hockey takes up a lot of my time.” Before Karamo sighs and stands up from where he had been sitting on one of the steps of the front porch of the Haus. Jack immediately knows he’s fucked up.

He hunches in on himself, still sitting, and stares fixedly at the ground. “I’m sorry. I know I’m really not– you’ve probably had clients with a lot more personality.” Jack is expecting to get a stern, but well-meaning remark about giving them more to work with but instead Karamo sits back down next to him, “You don’t have to apologize. I was actually going to say I’m sorry.”

Jack doesn’t know what to say. “We’ve been doing this for a few seasons now, we forget what it’s like to be in front of the cameras. How about this, where do you feel most comfortable?” For once, Jack doesn’t even have to think hard to come up with and answer, “On the ice.”

Karamo’s response is just as immediate, “Let’s go then.”

Jack can feel the tension in his shoulders release as they glide around the perimeter of the rink. Karamo’s wobbly on his skates, but the fact that he’s trying and putting himself out there makes Jack want to make an effort too. Bittle ends up joining them as well, and he’s clearly at ease on the ice. Apparently he played hockey in high school. The common interest gives Jack a starting point to open up the conversation

As a fringe benefit, only some of the camera crew are confident enough with their skating to carry their equipment and be on the ice at the same time, so they put mics on Jack, Karamo and Bitty and send only one camera man out with them. The rest of the crew are doing wide shots from the bleachers. Jack doesn’t say anything, but he’s glad for a little distance.

The longer the three of them skate, the looser Jack’s tongue gets. He finds himself talking about his major, his love of country music. He mentions the photography class he took, the photo series he did about hockey which later transitioned into photography of different spots around campus. He can feel himself growing more comfortable with the cameras and he manages to make both Karamo and Bittle laugh. If he finds himself delighting a little more in making Bitty laugh he doesn’t focus on it.

They’re taking off their skates when Karamo suggests setting Jack up with an Instagram account. “Adam was right, you don’t know a lot about pop culture.” Jack focuses on undoing his laces, “But that’s not a bad thing or something to be embarrassed about. You have your interests, your own passions. That’s what’s important.” Bitty nods in agreement as Karamo goes on. “I want to focus on giving you an outlet to help you explore other sides of yourself outside of hockey. The bonus is that the outlet will help you share your fuller self with others and connect with people who aren’t your team.”

It sounds reasonable, and spending more time on photography could be fun. Bitty nudges his shoulder, “I’ll be your first follower.”

Jack’s sold.

Strangely, Jack doesn’t find Jonathan’s enthusiasm that off putting. He thinks it’s because of how similar the man is to Shitty, or maybe it’s just that Shitty’s personality is hard to top.

Jack is sitting in front of the mirror at a local hair salon, cape on while Jonathan works his fingers through Jack’s hair, examining it closely. It’s so casual that Jonathan’s question comes out of left field, “You have anxiety, right?” Jack tenses, “Yes.” He knows he probably sounds rude, but this isn’t really a conversation he was expecting to have on national television. The last thing he needs is to be justifying his mental health to a stranger.

But Jonathan meets Jack’s gaze through the mirror and surprises him with his next question, “Do you have any self-care practices?” Jack nods slowly, “I, uh. I have medication for when I need it. I see a therapist. But running is good for clearing my head. I meditate.” Jonathan nods vigorously, “Yes, I love it. You wouldn’t believe how many clients I have to explain the importance of this to. Which is totally fine! But it helps save us some steps.”

“So what I’m going to do is just update your cut a bit. As I said before, I love the bangs but they’re a little two thousand and late and we want you looking to three thousand and great.” Jack feels like that’s probably a reference to something. Jonathan continues, “I’m going to give you a messy undercut, it’ll be hot. Then I’m going to give you a few skin care tips, some under-eye cream I think. You have amazing eyes and bone structure so we want to help you take care of that. Sound good?” Jack doesn’t really know how any of that sounds since he doesn’t even know what an undercut is, let alone a messy one. But like Shitty, he finds himself trusting Jonathan implicitly.

“Let’s do it.”

Jack finds Tan and Lardo working their way through every item in his closet in his bedroom. He knows this since about half of his closet has been dumped into the “Hockey only pile.”

“They’re comfortable!” He protests, but Tan shakes his head. “There’s a time and place for comfort and there’s a time and place for style. You have a good sense for what kind of apparel is appropriate for different occasions, but a lot of your casual clothes are very– what did you call it?”

“Soft jock.” Lardo supplies.

“Soft jock,” Tan agrees, “I want to give you a wardrobe you can wear confidently when you’re not in the gym. Something you can wear out to lunch, on a date.” Jack flushes, “I’m not seeing anyone right now.” Lardo raises an eyebrow knowingly, “Right now being the operative word, dude.”

Bitty chooses that moment to poke his head in the door, and Lardo’s eyebrow only goes higher. “Tan, make sure you get him to a good tailor too. We all have our assets, some more than others. I know off the rack suits aren’t doing him justice.” Jack’s blush grows, “I own a suit!” Tan unfolds his suit pants from where they’re hanging, eyeing them skeptically, “That isn’t a size too big?” Bitty winks at Jack before slipping out.

“You have your annual team banquet at the end of the week, right?” Tan asks, redirecting Jack’s attention. Jack nods. “Your team speaks very highly of you and it’s clear you’re captain for a reason. You’re obviously playing the part, but you also want to look the part. We’re going to set you up with a tailored suit that fits all parts of you, and a comfortable, but styled, casual wardrobe. You’ll be set for the banquet, but different occasions as well.”

Lardo smirks, “Even if those are dating occasions.”

“I’m not dating anyone.” Jack mutters under his breath, but looks at the different tie patterns Tan offers him.

By the time it’s Bitty’s turn to get his hands on him, Jack barely notices the cameras and is comfortable with all the guys. But still, he gets a little nervous when he hears what they’re going to tackle in the food segment. After Bitty learns about Jack’s PB&J gameday routine, he becomes adamant that they make bread, nut butter and jam. Though Jack insists that he really, really, no, really doesn’t know how to bake, Bitty waves him off.  

“Everyone thinks these things are so hard to make, but they’re really not.  Bread is just a lot of waiting for it to rise, and with nice arms like yours you’ll be a kneading champion.” If Jack flexes a little at the comment, no one needs to know.

So the cameras find the pair of them in the kitchen. They’ve already made three different kinds of nut butter, the peaches are cooling in ice water so they can be peeled and they’ve moved on to bread. Bitty decided they would make two different loaves, one multi-grain and one cinnamon raisin, so they’re both kneading away. Jack has to admit, it’s kind of fun.

“We complicate food so much, what we should eat, what we shouldn’t eat. There’s all these rules.” Bitty has been preaching about food culture for the past fifteen minutes. “And you being an athlete, I’m sure that just complicates things even more. There are certain nutrients you need for sure, but we also need food that nourishes our soul. We can’t just ignore our minds and focus on our bodies. Then we just end up even more distanced from our bodies than we were to begin with. You know what I mean?” Jack doesn’t entirely, but he likes the passion Bitty speaks with. Plus, when he’s caught up in his words like this Jack can sneak looks at him without Bitty noticing.

“And don’t get me started on the politics surrounding food. People being shamed for what they do eat, don’t eat. Feeling like they need to punish themselves. It’s a whole industry, let me tell you.” Bitty lets out an irritated huff. “We’ve got a real problem on our hands when we make something that should be simple so messy. But at the same time it’s complex! Food isn’t just food. It’s history and culture. It can really affect how we treat ourselves and how we see ourselves.”

Jack hasn’t said much. He knows that probably doesn’t make for great TV, but he figures they’ll be editing all of this down anyway. He doesn’t mind listening to Bitty, enjoys it really. But with all the talk about food and people’s relationship to it he finds words joining together in his mind. Before he can stop himself, he’s saying it.

“I was a fat kid.”

To Bitty’s credit, his hands only still for a moment before they resume kneading. “Fat isn’t a dirty word, honey.” Jack nods jerkily, “Maybe not in theory. But in practice.” he lets out a shaky sigh, “I think. I think I still carry that with me?” He waves a hand, though keeping his gaze fixed on his bread, attempting to seem casual even though he knows the redness that is creeping up his neck betrays his embarrassment. “It shouldn’t matter, but people gave me a hard time, you know? And now I play hockey. I have to perform at a certain level. My body has to perform at a certain level. I need to eat certain things so that can happen. And looking a certain way is a side effect of that.” He immediately feels like he’s said too much and tries to cover it up. “But I guess. I mean. It wasn’t my best look,” to cut through the tension he tacks on a poor attempt at humor, “and you’ve seen me in Crocs.”

Jack had been so determinedly avoiding seeing Bitty’s reaction that it isn’t until Bitty takes his hand that he realizes he’s being stared at. Or. Glared at. With love?

“Now you listen here,” Bitty begins, and Jack silently think that the tone of Bitty’s voice suggests that he has no choice but to listen. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you looked, then or now. Why do you think we came all the way to Samwell?” Jack shrugs a shoulder, “I don’t know. Why do you go anywhere? To make people better.” Before he can blink, Bitty softly knocks him on the shoulder with his free hand. Jack feigns a wince which gets a smile out of Bitty, but he quickly schools his expression back to stern. “I didn’t take down the ‘Be Better’ poster in your room just because I knew it wouldn’t go with Bobby’s design concept. I took it down because it’s wrong. Getting better is for colds, not for people.” The corner of Jack’s mouth quirks up at the phrasing, but Bitty pushes forward.

“We’re here to help you be yourself. I don’t think Jack is a curmudgeon locked in his room, sadly drinking nasty protein shakes.” Jack open his mouth to protest, the protein shakes aren’t that nasty, but Bitty isn’t done saying his piece. “I think Jack is the person we were told about when your team nominated you. A dedicated guy, who loves hockey but also likes photography and history. He’s always there when you need a hand and yes he wears banana sneakers when he runs and Crocs in the locker room, but he helps his...frogs?” Jack nods, “He helps his frogs pick out a nice tie to wear to his friend’s art show. He’s thoughtful and funny.”

Bitty drops Jack’s hand, turning back to the counter to start kneading again. Jack stays where he is, a question still lingering, “Then why the whole...makeover? I mean. Why new clothes, new hair, new food?” Bitty stops and looks up, but not at Jack. Gazing out of the kitchen window he’s quiet for a moment. Jack can see him turning the words over in his head. “Because those things aren’t reflecting who you are. They’re reflecting someone else. You’re not a hockey robot, sweetheart. You like cracking jokes and spending time with your friends. Bobby’s redoing your living room so that y’all have a nice space to spend time with each other. That’s the real you. Hockey robot you would need his bedroom redone with a personal gym and a giant dry erase board to sketch out plays in his sleep.”  

Bitty finally looks away from the window, moving through the kitchen confidently to pull out a loaf pan and start to grease it. Jack goes back to his own dough, thinking Bitty’s done talking but suddenly Bitty pipes up, a tone of finality in his voice. “I think we buy into the stories the world tells us about ourselves. But you gotta remind yourself who you really are and stay rooted in that. You’re not asking for permission to be yourself, you find your core and then tell the world who you are.”

Jack turns that over in his head.

The bread turns out perfect.

Earlier in the week Bobby and Jack went through the photo series he did of the team for his photography class. What the photos would be used for Bobby refused to reveal. He had a sneaking suspicions they would just be made into prints to frame, but it was nice that Bobby thought his work was good enough to be part of the redesign.

Bobby blindfolds Jack on the porch of the Haus before they go in for the big living room reveal. Before he started all of this he thought getting free redecoration would be the best part, the rest of his makeover just something to tolerate, but as the week has gone on and he’s gotten to know all of the Fab Five better he’s grown to really enjoy the process and spending time with the guys. They’re part of his team now.

Shitty takes advantage of Jack’s lack of vision to give him a surprise sloppy kiss near his ear before they go in, accompanying a fond, “You look good, Jack-o.” Jack manages to get Shitty in a headlock in retaliation, which Bitty quickly breaks up, “Boys, boys. If you’re wanting to see your new home, you better behave.” Jack immediately lets Shitty go and feigns innocence, and even with the blindfold on he can feel Bitty smiling at him.

“Alright, Jack. You ready?” Bobby asks, and Jack nods. A steadying hand is placed on his back to guide him as they open the door and enter the Haus, gently guiding him to the living room. It’s only when he hears Shitty breathe, “Holy fuck.” that he realizes he can take his blindfold off.

Holy fuck is right.

Jack takes a few tentative steps forward, looking around in wonderment. It’s really. It’s incredible. The entire room is shades of gray and black, with red accents. One wall is painted red, the team logo printed large in the center of it in white. On other walls are canvas prints of the photos that Jack took, artistically angled shots of the rink, close-ups of skates carving ice. They look professional, better than Jack thought they would. The TV is on a real stand, not a beat up coffee table. All the cords for the different gaming consoles are tucked away, their video games neatly slotted in next to each other. The old couch is gone, to stay the least, replaced by a large black sectional. There’s a foosball table that has a closed top, so it can be used for beer pong, Jack realizes. A quick glance at Lardo’s face shows she’s eyeing it already.

Jack steps forward and touches the couch, it’s some kind of fabric. “It’s going to get stained at a Kegster. It’s. This is too nice.” Bobby laughs, “It’s liquid resistant. You get the look but without the mess. But I’m going to take that as a thank you.” Jack immediately moves towards him, embarrassed by his thoughtlessness, extending a hand to shake. “I’m sorry, no. For sure. Thank you, seriously. This is. It’s amazing. This means a lot to the team, we really appreciate this.” Ransom cuts in, “He’s got his captain voice on, that means he’s really serious about it.”

Jack is too overwhelmed to even chirp back.

It’s only a half hour later when it hits Jack that the Fab Five is leaving. Of course, he knew logically that it was the last day, but it all feels so sudden. They’ve been with him all week and Jack fulls acknowledges the intimacy and vulnerability involved with what they’ve done for him. One by one the say goodbye, Jack once again profusely thanking Bobby, reassuring Jonathan he’ll keep up with his new routine, promising Tan the Crocs will stay in the locker room and taking a last minute photo with Karamo for his new instagram account. Finally he gets to Bitty, who smiles up at him, looking a little misty-eyed.

“Look at you, sugar. All grown-up.” Bitty chirps. His expression is open but his body language is guarded. Jack places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I solemnly swear to never eat store bought peanut butter ever again.” It gets the desired effect when Bitty lets out a wet laugh. “Seriously though, thank you for coming out here and doing all this. For me and the team. It was great. Getting to know you.” Bitty bites his lip at Jack’s earnestness, dropping his gaze to his feet. “Oh, well you know.” Bitty replies, voice wobbily, “I’m just happy to help.”

Jack opens his arms, gently enveloping Bitty in a hug. For a moment Bitty goes stiff, but then Jack feels arms wrap around his waist.

For a long moment they’re together, then they’re apart.

When Bitty had received a call from Antoni asking him to fill in as the food expert on Queer Eye while he filmed his new show with the Food Network, Bitty wasn’t sure what to expect. Of course, he obsessively watched the show (the old version and the reboot, he wasn’t an amateur). He also wasn’t short a passion for food, he had that in spades. His baking vlog on YouTube had gained a lot of traction and he had managed to make an entire career out of being self-taught and social media savvy. But he didn’t have the same traditional credentials as other people, he didn’t go to college or culinary school. He was also young. Surely there was a long list of other people who were equally, if not more qualified to take Antoni’s spot.

But Antoni had insisted, and after a short meeting with the casting department and other Fab Five members it was clear Bitty was a solid fit. It had been a whirlwind of an experience so far, but Bitty’s favorite part was absolutely getting to interact and connect with so many different kinds of people.

Then came Jack.

Jack, with his simultaneous confidence and insecurity, muscles but soft smile. He was a sight for sore eyes wrapped up in good intention. As filming had gone on, Bitty felt himself growing closer and closer to Jack. By the end, he had thought maybe– well. It didn’t matter now. There had been a long, wonderful hug. And then goodbye.

Now all that left was filming their reaction to the follow up.

After lighting and sound had been set up, the five settled into the couch. The footage opened with Jack spreading jam and peanut butter on his homemade bread. Tan tsked at Jack’s gym shorts and tshirt, but Bitty barely noticed. “That’s my guy, look at him. That’s the almond butter we made!”

Once Jack made and ate his sandwich, the video cut to him going through his closet. They all waited with bated breath as he weighed his different options, but let out a cheer when he settled on a light blue tie with a navy suit. Bitty pressed a hand to his cheek, “He looks so darn handsome, you did a great job, Tan.” Too busy watching Jack, Bitty misses the look Karamo and Bobby exchange.

Bitty is expecting to see the video follow its typical format from there, Jack ticking the other boxes of what he learned and then attending his big event, the banquet. There should be a little video of him using his instagram account and spending time with the guys in the living room. But instead he’s suddenly watching footage of Jack walking down a familiar looking street with flowers in his hand. He stops at a familiar looking door. Bitty can’t figure out why he knows the location, even as Jack enters an elevator that Bitty swears he’s been in.

It isn’t until there’s a knock at the door of the Fab Five loft that Bitty realizes where Jack is. He’s here.

“Oh my Lord. Y’all did not. You did not.” is all he can seem to say, fussing with straightening his clothes as a crew member goes and opens the door. Jack, looking handsome as all get out in his sleek suit, steps into the room and Bitty is rooted to the spot. “Hi.” Jack says, waving nervously. If he isn’t just the sweetest thing.

Bitty slowly gets to his feet. “Hi.” he says back, staring at Jack with wide eyes. Jack smiles, moving further into the room, stopping in front of Bitty and handing him the flowers. “I got these for you. I would have brought you a sandwich but I didn’t think it would travel well.” Bitty lets out a strained laugh, taking the bouquet with a shaking hand. “They’re beautiful, Jack. Thank you. These are just. Goodness. You’ve got me all flustered.”

There isn’t much time to dwell on how overwhelmed Bitty is feeling, since suddenly Jack takes Bitty’s free hand. “You told me that I need to know who I am. Who I want to be. That I need to hold onto that and then tell other people.” Bitty knows his expression goes fond at Jack’s words. How could it not? Yes, Jack is quiet. But that doesn’t mean he’s not earnestly listening. “I did.” Bitty confirms, nodding. Jack takes a deep breath. “Getting to know you this week was really special. I mean, it was for all of you–” he glances at Bobby, Karamo, Tan and Jonathan who are all excitedly holding each other, watching everything unfold, “–but it was really special with you.”

Bitty squeezes Jack’s hand, encouraging him to continue. “I know myself a little better now, and I just wanted to tell you and I guess, the world.” He glances at the cameras this time, “I wanted to tell you that I really like you. I think you’re great.” Bitty knows he’s getting weepy, but he can’t help it. How could anyone when there’s a beautiful man in front of you, telling you how loved you are? “I’d really like to take you out to dinner. I’d make it myself, but you didn’t teach me how to do that.”

At Jack’s last chirp, Bitty lets out a teary laugh and finally leans forward and kisses him. Jack responds with enthusiasm, showing that kissing is one thing doesn’t need a team of reality TV experts’ help with.

[managingmymuse]

Thanks for the tag, @elarasterling! Sorry it took me so long to get around to answering it!

1.      Would you mind sharing your best line or paragraph?

 I’m not really the kind of writer who looks back at her own writing and goes “A+, that’s fab.” I honestly consider myself more of a storyteller, really, in that I don’t care about whether the words are pretty so long as they convey what I want them to say. That said, I’ll still post something. This was a big hit with my writing group.

“If the magic on the threshold had been a rainstorm, the magic inside was a flood. It filtered through the air like sunbeams through dust, ghosting along my skin with the touch of a lover, settling into my belly like the warmest meal. I stood by the doorway, shrouded in shadow, and just breathed.”

2. What’s the first food you’d try from your story?

 A lot of the story I’m writing is set in our world, with not particularly novel foods. One food I created for it, though, was a beverage that I described as melted white chocolate. Frothy and smooth and warm. Yum.

3. If you had casting control, would you prefer a film or TV adaptation of your novel?

I actually wouldn’t want casting control? I am terrible with actors. And I’m one of those rare writers who isn’t actually wedded to their characters’ appearances. Whenever I envision a character, I don’t really ‘see’ their faces. I tend to get images only of the backs of heads.

But yeah, I could see a movie or a TV show for my book. A movie would allow the story to be more ‘complete’ (in that it would have one, overarching journey), but a TV show would let you explore lots of the day to day details that I tossed out the window when I sent Lori on a mad dash into worlds unknown.

4. Would you date one of your characters? If so, who, and where would you go together in their world?

 I don’t think so. I mean, I’m 29, and I do a lot of writing about teenagers, so that’s kind of a pass. Even in my adult story, I don’t necessarily think of characters as datable for me? Love interests are designed with their ‘other half’ in mind, if you catch my drift.

5. Imagine meeting a villain from your story. They offer to take you away to their world under one condition: you must work for them. Do you accept?

 Aww, man. So if we’re talking about the world(s) from Sentinel, I guess not? I designed Lori’s world to mirror our own, so it’s similar to ours in a lot of ways. And the world she visits isn’t that appealing to me? I mean, I’d like to visit, but I don’t think I’d want to be a permanent visitor. Not, you know, at the price of letting wild magic kill a bunch of people.

6. You are cursed to reincarnate as the protagonist from one of your favorite books. You will forget everything in the process so all events may play out. What book do you choose?

 OMG, what a question. Hmm… I’m like super obsessed with Kate Daniels right now, but I’m not sure I’d want to be her. I’m not tough enough to survive her upbringing, you know? I like the Dorina Basarab series, too, though. I think I’d do that one. I’d get to be a badass, immortal dhampir with a hot boyfriend and a bunch of awesome, slightly troublesome friends. Yeah, let’s go with that one.

7. What if your protagonist was the one writing a novel and they were responsible for your life? Would you forgive them for putting you through everything that shaped who you are today?

 Probably not, lol. I mean, I guess I haven’t really had it that bad, but I guess I’d tell them to get an imagination? The terrible things that happen to me aren’t dragons or curses, but the mundane, soul-crushing realities of getting up in the morning and going to work even though you know nothing is going to change. The loneliness of being passed by or left out. So on and so forth.

8. If you could trade writing in for any other talent, would you? If yes, what? If no, why?

 Sometimes I get the urge to splash paint on things, and I wish I had the artistic talent to make that an appropriate outlet. Writing, as a physical activity, is so narrow and so confined. I really wish sometimes that I could fling my words out like paint, and just cover the walls with my emotions. I don’t know if I’d trade for it, though.

9. What’s your worst writing-related fear?

 Lately, it’s been that my book is going to be overlooked because my protagonist is an enormous bigot. She’s majorly prejudiced against magic-using folk, and it definitely was meant as a metaphor for the real life hatred and fear that permeates our society. I know what I’m trying to do with the book (and the point, essentially, boils down to the fact that racism/sexism/homophobia are bad, even for the people who perpetuate those ideologies the most fervently) but I worry that in today’s political climate, the nuance of that message will be missed. It’s not that I want people to sympathize with racists (or sexists or whatever); rather it’s that I want to explore the way hateful ideologies perpetuate themselves through fear and distrust and turn living, breathing people into a terrible other. I think too often a lot of relatively privileged people view themselves as allies without really thinking about the mechanisms that underlie prejudice. (Or, to put it another way, without considering why they’re tolerant and their racist uncle is an ass.) My story sort of digs into it from the perspective of the ‘oppressors,’ to use the tumblr social justice speak, and I worry that large swaths of the internet will discount it for just that reason.  

10. What message do you wish to convey through your story?

 I guess I answered that one already. See above.

 Ten more questions for y’all to answer! (If that’s your thing. This took me two weeks to do, so no pressure.) I’m going to pick some recent followers! @squeaky-floorboards, @contradicting, @halfbloodlycan @nobodywritesstuff @thebloodstainedquill, @adaughterofathena, @ladycalliopemoon and anyone who wants to do it! (Tag me!)

 1.      If you had to pick one genre, and only one genre, to read and write in for the rest of your life, what would it be? Why?

2.      What’s the first story you ever remember hearing? Do you still love it as much as you did then?

3.      You have to rob a bank with one of your OCs. Which one do you choose? Why?

4.      Do you subscribe to the notion of plotters and pantsers when you’re writing? If you do, which one are you?

5.      Do you have any favorite tropes, either when you’re reading or when you’re writing? What are they?

6.      What’s the best piece of writing advice you’ve ever heard?

7.      Where did the inspiration for your current WIP come from?

8.      When you’re writing, do you usually start with characters, world, or plot? Something different?

9.      If the protagonist of the story you’re working on right now ran for president (or prime minister or what have you), would they be elected? Would they be good at the job if they were elected?

10.   If you could order a crossover with two of your favorite books, which books would you choose? Is there something about those books that will yield juicy conflicts when they collide?

[sweater-vest-reid]

All You Need is Love: Chapter Fourteen “Revolution”

A Love Story Told by The Fab Four / Inspired by “Across the Universe”

Spencer Reid: a genius, hardworking, dedicated FBI profiler. Persephone “Percy” Jacobson: a passionate, brilliant, ambitious FBI specialist, and the newest member of the BAU. Spencer doesn’t believe in soulmates. Persephone doesn’t believe in happy endings. Told nonlinearly, watch as time, each other, and The Beatles, proves them wrong.

Chapter List

~~~~~

A/N: Hey everyone! This week’s chapter is a series of letters from Percy to Spencer during his stint in jail in season 12. The last chunk is not a letter, but a scene instead! Warning: this does talk a little bit about mental illness, as well as religion, so if either of those topics make you uncomfortable, I would skip this weeks chapter. One last note: each of the letters are written during the episode that is listed before each part.

Listen here

~~~~~

You say you want a revolution Well, you know We all want to change the world

{2017, 12x15, “Alpha Male”} Spencer,

I’ve never written a letter before. In third grade, we wrote to pen pals for English class. But those weren’t real letters, as they only consisted of a few short sentences scribbled on the postcard. Those words I wrote in third grade didn’t mean anything. But these words have to mean something. After all, I only get so many words I can share with you.

But it will not be this way forever. I promise you that I will not rest until I can clear your name. I’m bound to you, for better or for worse. Well, here’s the worse they were talking about, and believe me I’m not going anywhere. I love you.

I just keep thinking about the plane ride back from Mexico after you were arrested. It was the last time we got to be together. Us, in the back of the plane, holding on to each other for the whole flight. I don’t remember how many times we said, “I love you.” It must have been at least a hundred times. But right now, I wish it had been a thousand. I love you. I love you. I fucking love you so much.

I’m sorry this letter is such word soup. I guess I’m only a bit better at writing my thoughts than I am at saying them out loud. I’m sure I’ll get better. I’ll have too. Please stay safe, and keep to yourself. I know that it will be lonely, but I promise that when this is all over, you will never have to be alone again. 

I will write more, and I promise to visit soon.

Stay strong. 

I love you,

Percy

You tell me that it's evolution Well, you know We all want to change the world

{2017, 12x16, “Assistance is Futile”} Spencer,

I wish I could give you an update on our progress, but I’ve been taken off the case. Higher-ups threatened my position if I didn’t remove myself, stating that I had a conflict of interest. So I backed down. But don’t worry. The entire team is working hard to get you home.

My brother and I started talking more. I mean, we text all the time, you know that. Recently, we’ve been talking on the phone almost every day. It’s been helping me a lot, getting to speak with someone who isn’t on the team. It’s good to hear from someone with a different perspective. 

I’m an aunt now. I’ve got a little niece named piper. Well, I guess we’ve got a niece. She’s a little over a month old. I don’t think I got a chance to tell you before Mexico. She’s adorable. I can’t wait for us to meet her. My brother asked me to be her godmother. I told him I was honored, but I wouldn’t be able to travel down to New Orleans for the baptism until you were home. But Ollie assured me that it wouldn’t be a problem. Her baptism wouldn’t happen until you're released since he wants you to be her godfather. So, you can add little Piper to the list of people waiting for you to come home.

Speaking of family, I’ve been spending a lot of time with your mom. She seems to be doing alright under the circumstances. She misses you. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she wants to visit you soon. 

The other day she told me I was the best thing that ever happened to you. And Spencer, believe me when I tell you that after I heard that, I cried harder than I have in a long time. I never thought that I would be the best thing to ever happen to someone. I’m very glad that someone is you.

I cry a lot now. I didn’t let myself cry for years, and now the floodgates have opened and I can’t stop.

I cry because I’m sad for you. But mostly, I cry because I’m angry. Angry that I can only see you for ten minutes at a time. Angry that I can’t even work on your case anymore. Angry that I can’t change the world for you. I’m sorry Spencer. I’m so sorry. I will get you out of this. I promise. 

I just keep thinking about Piper’s baptism. I’m excited for it. I’m excited to meet Piper, but mostly I’m excited because I know that we will be together and that all this will be over. 

I love you,

Percy

But when you talk about destruction Don't you know that you can count me out

{2017, 12x17, “In the Dark”} Spencer, 

Today I prayed for the first time in my entire life. 

My mom told me that studying religion would bring me closer to it. That’s what happened to her.

But it had the opposite effect on me. It brought me farther away from religion. Religion became less about love and faith and more about analyzing and memorization. I guess that’s what makes me so good at my job. I can separate myself from the religions I encounter.

But then I heard about what happened to you, and I saw your cuts and black eye during my visit. I craved faith. I needed comfort.

In college, I wrote a final paper on witchcraft in the modern age. I interviewed a witch to use as one of my sources. When the interview finished, she gifted me a candle. She told me it was for the protection of those I loved. I kept it. Carried it with me from house to house. But I never used it.

But when I got home after our visit, I opened a drawer looking for a notebook and found the candle instead. I didn’t think twice. I lit it, and then I prayed. I don’t know who I prayed to. I don’t even know if I prayed to someone. I just prayed. For years, I didn’t allow myself to believe in anything. I forced myself to remain in my purely academic perspective. But life has a funny, and sometimes tragic, way of changing your mind.

I’m praying for you, Spencer. A sentence I never thought I’d write, but it’s true. I’m sending you my love, my hope, my strength. You need it more than I do.

I love you,

Percy

You say you’ll change the constitution Well, you know We all want to change your head

{2017, 12x18, “Hell’s Kitchen”} Spencer, 

I’m so sorry. It’s been less than a day since I sent my last letter. I don’t think you’ve even received it yet. I can’t believe how much has happened since.

All my sadness is gone, now replaced by a vengeful anger. I’m mad that I can’t see you as often as I want to. I’m mad that on the rare occasion I am able to see you, I can’t hug or comfort you in any way. I’m mad that your only friend was taken from you so violently. I’m mad that life keeps taking so much from you.

I hope you understand that you don’t deserve any of this. You have such a pure heart. You’ve spent your life helping others. Yet somehow, life keeps kicking you down. You deserve a mother who always remembers your name. You deserve to have a father who is always there. You deserve to sleep in a warm bed every night. But most of all, you deserve to be loved. And believe me, you are so loved. I swear to all the fucking gods in this shithole of a universe that I will get you out of here. I know that you think this will never end, but I promise you it will. Please believe me.

Sometimes in our line of work, we question ourselves. We wonder if we are any different than the criminals we catch. But you are not like them, Spencer. You are full of good. Spence, you’ve literally taken bullets for complete strangers. Bad guys don’t do that.

Please know that to me, you are the best person in the whole world. I have a ring on my finger to proves how much I believe in you. You can do this. You can make it through.

I love you,

Percy

You tell me it's the institution Well, you know You better free your mind instead

{2017, 12x19, “True North”} Spencer,

I’m so sorry I couldn’t visit you, but the lockdown is very strict. I wish I could visit you. I’m bored out of my mind. I can’t visit you, I can’t work on your case, and I’m not working on our current case either. I can’t focus right now. Needless to say, things aren’t going great at the moment.

I hope you are keeping safe during the lockdown. We don’t know what’s going on in there. The prison won’t give us much information.

To be honest, I’m not quite sure what to write to you. My mind’s been so blank lately. I’m drained, Spence. I don’t sleep much anymore. My insomnia is back, followed by the return of my sleep paralysis. I would spend all my extra time working on your case, but the bureau still won’t let me. I feel useless, Spencer. I feel paralyzed. I can’t sleep. I can’t do my job. I feel like I’m failing you. I feel like my life isn’t real anymore like I’m just observing it through someone else’s eyes. I haven’t felt this way since my dad died.

I need you to stay safe because if you don’t come home, I don’t know what I’m going to do.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this letter so dark. I know we're supposed to be keeping your spirits high, but it’s kind of hard to do that when your own spirit is so low.

Tara is coming to see you very soon. She’s going to be conducting another interview. That’s all she could tell me. I’m sending her with a picture of Piper. I figured seeing your niece (and goddaughter) might cheer you up a bit.

I love you, Spence,

Percy

But if you go carrying pictures of chairman Mao You ain't going to make it with anyone anyhow

{2017, 12x21, “Green Light”} Percy stood outside the prison. Garcia held her hand, squeezing it in reassurance. 

Finally, Spencer was coming home. But, the past few days had been so exhausting, so draining. Percy’s heart couldn’t keep up with her head. 

Spencer had gotten involved in some prison drama. Percy told Spencer to keep to himself, to stay out of everyone’s way. But he didn’t listen. Deep down, Percy knew he wouldn’t. He wanted justice, but Percy knew justice was a dangerous thing to fight for in prison. In her last letter, Percy told him to back down. She told him he wouldn’t make it with anyone, let alone make it home if he kept his act up. 

But Percy never got a chance to send that letter. The day after she wrote it, Spencer’s mom went missing. 

Now Percy and Spencer were moments away from their reunion. Her heart pounded. She felt dizzy. Percy was thankful Garcia was there with her. It was the only thing keeping her composed.

“Hey, girlie. You look a little pale. You feeling alright? You wanna sit down?” Garcia asked.

Percy nodded. Garcia lead her to a bench behind them, and they sat down. Percy sat with her head in her hands, while Garcia slowly rubbed her back.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Percy’s emotions muddled together, overwhelming her mind. She heard a gate unlock and open, but she didn’t look up. She rubbed her temples, desperately trying to ease her pounding head. Percy heard Garcia mumble something. Percy turned her head to ask Garcia what she said, but Garcia was gone. Percy faced forward, and she gasped, tears starting to fall from her eyes.

In front of her stood Garcia, hugging a very disheveled Spencer. 

Percy stood up, her tears now falling faster, “Spence?”

Spencer pulled away from Garcia, and locked eyes with Percy. Looking at her, he couldn’t help but smile. He’d longed for this moment, to see her, for months. And there she was.

They both were a little worse for wear. In fact, they looked more similar in that moment than they ever had before. 

Their hair was a tangled and curly mess, almost touching their shoulders. Spencer’s length was the result of many months without a haircut. Percy length, however, was the result of a very recent haircut, one she did herself less than a week prior. Frustrated with her current situation, she decided she needed to change something. So, she grabbed a pair of scissors and cut off most of her hair. Percy had no hairdressing experience. That left the sides uneven and the edges choppy, resulting in a visit to a salon before work the next day.

But the similarities didn’t stop there. Both of them sported dark, puffy under eyes, currently covered in tears. And to top it off, they both wore black suits; Spencer’s accented with a red tie.

They ran towards each other, embracing tighter than ever before. They stopped holding back their tears, letting them flow freely on the shoulder of the other. Spencer nuzzled his face into Percy’s neck, dampening the sounds of his sobs.

Percy didn’t want the moment to end. She could have stood there holding him forever. But their reunion could continue later. They had an important job to do. She pulled away, her hands still wrapped around his waist.

“Hi,” she said, still in shock.

Spencer didn’t reply; he just kissed her. Hard. It was a long passionate kiss. It was like he was trying to make up for the months they missed.

Eventually, they pulled away. Spencer’s eyes moved to her hair, his hand reaching up to brush a strand behind her ear. 

“I like it,” he said smiling.

“I like it too” Percy replied, tucking back a piece of his hair.

Percy leaned and kissed his forehead, preparing for the moment to end.

“You ready?” she asked.

Spencer nodded, “Let’s get my mom back.”

Don't you know it's gonna be all right All right, all right

Tagged: (Want to be tagged in all upcoming chapters? Message me and I’ll add you to the list!)

@beysenpai / @theofficeofsupremegenius / @everybodywantstobetouched / @keepcalmandlovetomhiddleston / @criminal-navy-writings / @whale-of-a-time / @anton-shudders / @lizardbet / @bestillmystuckyheart / @veroinnumera

[multifanstuff]

I was tagged by @monbaby-trash.. thank you hun I appreciate it!! you’re a beautiful human beanbut seeing that I can’t do anything in a timely manner I didn’t get to this till now lol

Rules: Answer the 30 questions and then tag 20 people 

(lol that’s not gonna happen I don’t have enough mutuals and I’m awkward)

Nicknames: Tay

Gender: Female 

⭐ Sign: CAPIRcorn

Height: I’m a small fry guys.. just a whole 5′2″

Time: 1:42am tbh I don’t sleep much 

🎂: two days after christmas boi

Favorite Bands: …this question… it changes all the time but right now it’s EXO and Day6… I’ve been listening to a lot of BMTH and Megosh lately too

Favorite Solo Artists: OMG I LOVE ZICO SO MUCH OKAY HE’S BEAUTIFUL. But if I’m gonna be real I really love Giriboy a lot too, and Loco

Song Stuck in My Head: I have had Peek-A-Boo by Red Velvet stuck in my head for going on about 3 days, which is weird because I don’t really listen to girl groups but that song is growing on me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Last Movie I 👀: One Way Trip~~ Jisoo is beautiful

Last Show I 👀: Uncontrollably Fond. I don’t think I ever cried so much in my life.

When did I create my blog: July 2017

What do I post: Kpop and khh

Last thing googled: how to figure out how old my blog is because I forgot archive is a thing

Do you have other blogs?: I have one called multifanrecs, I know ohh soo original *note sarcasm*, but I don’t have it up and running yet. I can’t write fics for sh*t but I read enough of them and want to support my favs soooooo

Do you get asks: NO I DON’T PLEASE LEAVE SOME BABES SO I CAN LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOU

Why did you choose your url: because I like too many different groups and it felt wrong naming it after just one of them

Following: 418 and counting lol

Followers: only 41 but y’all hella awesome

Favorite colors: black and red

Average hours of 💤: 3 to 4

Lucky number: ….14?

Instruments: I can play the guitar but I’m not very good at it and my friend is getting me a ukuele for christmas??

What am I wearing: purple sweatshirt and black shorts

How many blankets I 💤 with: when I’m in my dorm, only one because it’s hot af but at home probably like two or three

Dream Job: making art or getting payed to travel

Dream Trip: taking a few months and traveling across the country by myself cause I’m weird?

Favorite food: …..rice…..and whatever vegetables and meat available…..mainly rice….

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: idk my ancestors are Scandinavian? honestly all you need to know is I’m pale af and the sun and I have a terrible relationship

Favorite Song Right Now: this is a horrible question…who decided… oh well. I’ve listened to Deserve by Kris Wu too much lately so I guess? tbh miss you Kris

Okay so I’m just going to tag whoever because yeah I’m fab but I totally get if you guys don’t do it because effort lol *sidenote* if you’re a writer I love your content and I’m probs tagging you because I want to get to know you better ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ sooooo here we go @joy-bangtan @areyouo-kpop @iidontgiveafuckuniverse @7btobap6 @yeolology @junghoeseokie @gwaenchanhajagiya @megatrashforkpop @daehyuns-lip-ring …. @junhongiee because you just blew up my dash with B.A.P and I love it @kpopruinedmywholelifeu @yooneroos @narika-a …. @ineedyixing DO YOU KNOW HOW CONFUSED I HAVE BEEN SINCE YOU CHANGE YOUR URL I THOUGHT YOU WERE GONE lol sorry @jinjins-freckles …. @kumquatassassin @not-a-teenageicon love me I’ll be back at work soon~~ @himchans @omurizer-draws-things ……. @hauntedhousehunting I just want spooky responses because your fab

[tumblunni]

Wait so is their name Uz or what...? I know before we (FINALLY) got an english dub of this game like a decade late and it became my FAVOURITE THING EVER, everyone used to say Yuzu for some reason. But then in the game it seemed to always say Uzu, but then the steam trading card emoticon says Uz..? And like.. there was pretty much no info on this installment of the series before the dub came out, and there’s STILL only a tiny fandom and even (annoyingly) some of the walkthroughs are wrong for certain endings. So i can’t even find out what the kanji were for Uzu originally, to have any idea on pronounciation... Man SO MANY names in this game are different between different menus, its really confusing! But I thought at least the main sidekick character was somewhat consistant!

anyway i need to know this because Uzu (redhead one on the left) needs to go on my Make A Fusion of All Of Your Favourite Characters meme even tho they have like the smallest fuckin role ever in a really badly translated game but just AAAAAA great design and sweet and cute personality and interesting dynamic of the protagonist kid being a former fairy who wished to be human, and Uzu being like her secret imaginary friend who looks after her~! its nice cos the previous assistant characters were all just serious and competant butlers, but Uzu is more like a second kid character that’s just not capable of growing up. It can get a bit sad sometimes but EXTREMELY sweet how Uzu is all ‘I don’t actually understand this humanity lesson I’m explaining, and I’ll never be capable of it, but i’m so proud of you for everything you’re doing’. Srsly its like ‘don’t go where I can’t follow’ but ‘please do, i want what’s best for you, and all us fairy siblings you barely remember are all cheering you on to achieve something we’ll never have, even if it means you’ll forget us’. Like srsly Uzu is such a sweet goofy dork who’s all ‘fairies have no imagination lol, I don’t get art’ and ‘fairies never have any bigger dream than just what they want to eat tomorrow. I want stew.’ ‘OH U~’ But like also its clear that they’re not incapable of emotion AT ALL, they absolutely fuckin adore their strange little sister that’s now a big sister and some day will be that thing called an adult and the two of them will drift apart forevermore..

And like just SERIOUSLY what little we see of Uzu is just that they care SO MUCH! Even as they struggle understanding the appeal of humanity and why protag wants to be one of those things, Uzu is still like MAXIMUM SUPPORT TIME. Just gets comedy moments from trying to support a thing they don’t know very much about, lol! Srsly its interesting and nice how much you get to know about the two of them via such few scenes, how Uzu starts off being all ‘oooh, yay, you spotted That Thing I Heard Humans Do, let me explain...’ and then it becomes completely apparant that the lazy lil sprite doesnt actually have anything beyond those two scenes of surface knowledge XD So end up teaching your big lil sibling all about the wonders of humanity! And even if Uzu is very much your opposite and very much happy-go-lucky and super confident in their identity as a fairy, they’re just so.. so... “I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY THIS IS IMPORTANT BUT THIS IS IMPORTANT TO YOU, AAAAA” *aggressive cheerleading* seriously the only time Uzu gets sad is in the endings where protagonist gives up and returns to being a fairy, even though being a fairy is Uzu’s favourite thing in the world. Its so heartwrenching to see this little pink sweetheart being all like ‘was it my fault that it all went wrong? because I didnt take it seriously enough? she was so excited about it...’ And then those bad endings also say that protagonist will eventually forget this short time as a human girl, but she can’t return to being a happy peaceful fairy like Uzu. She’ll just remember that she regrests something, even if her immortal lifespan means she’ll lose track of what it was. And OH MAN I really wonder about what her and Uzu were like before the start of the game, then?? Cos she was said to be a not very happy fairy, she was just the only one who couldnt enjoy dancing around the flowers and wished of a human’s happy ending. I wonder if Uzu was already her friend then, and followed her to the human world to look after her, even though she’s forgotten them? i mean all we know about it is that their sibling dynamic is ‘technically true, all fairies are siblings since we were made by the fairy queen’. But like, whether Uzu already knew them or was just hired for this job by the queen or maybe even just snuck along like a lil trickster cos ‘huh? a fairy who wished to be human? That sounds fun!’. Whatever their backstory is, they’re a very damn good immaurture big sibling of strange, and I love this tiny family forever. Also apparantly baby fairies hatch from lucky drops of morning dew upon the flowers each spring, which is ADORABLE! i wonder if that affects their appearance? I’d assume protagonist was a lilac or a pansy, maybe Uzu was a snapdragon or a poppy? ;3

aaa sorry im rambling its just that I REALLY LOVE THIS CHARACTER CONCEPT and i mean the game already does have more dialogue with the daughter compared to other games and explains more about how the fairies work compared to your demon butler in the last game BUT LIKE I STILL WANT MORE!!!!! i love uzu and i love protagonist but protagonist’s personality is kinda blank slate and depends on your choices. but i still love her cos that starting concept of ‘sad lonely fairy who wishes to be a human princess, gets adopted by sweet disabled former knight man as a dad’ is just like THE FUCKIN BEST PLOT and aaaa I really actually cared about her and wanted her to succeed cos there was a REASON for wanting to reach the princess ending! not just arbitrarily wanting the best score, i want to give my sweet monster child her perfect fairytale dreeeeeaaaam~

but just AAA i really love Uzu and AAA god their design is so cool too, its just a nice colourscheme with the plain black and white casual robe thing and the very bright pink hair and then the tiny mischief ponytail and the surprisingly complicated rainbow sigil wing effects~ and lol ALSO i do kinda have to love a nonbinary character, yeah tho in this case its more of the ‘ambiguous headcanon’ type, cos uzu just doesn’t get any pronouns in english, and gendered pronouns dont really exist in japanese. and the game fandom is so small that there’s no sources on whether the japanese version ever mentioned a gender in supplimenary material. Also, I mean, the dub messes up a lot of really basic stuff like gender pronouns and even name spellings within the same sentence, lol! so its not really a reliable source. But whatever, it might be reckless to assume, but I’m gonna stick with this headcanon until we get proven otherwise, I guess. And srsly Uzu’s fab style is a look I wish I could pull off with my own androgeny in real life! (and yknow probably accidentally but they’re close to trans flag colours lol)

oh and from googling all i can find out is that uzu in japanese means spiral and yuzu means pomelo melon so.. huh. That Did Not Help.

also I found that tehre were a bunch of spinoff minigame compilations for the early playstation installments in the series! its really cute to see the characters from all the different ‘generations’ getting to meet each other~ In this one that seems to be the only one with any english info (Princess Maker: Go Go Princess), its like a monopoly board game except the pieces are an all-star cast of princesses and all the events are references to events from the individual games. SO COOL!!!

and look how much sprite detail they put into a silly spinoff! O_O it sucks that these spritesheets display this way though, so i have no idea how all the parts would line up and what the animations would look like but FUCK its still really cute to see cube and uzu having a good ol hug! also is it just me or do Uzu’s face sprites look a little older? I mean sure its probably just cos this was near the end of the ps1 era and the art style had gotten more detailed, but maybe I’d like to headcanon that Uzu ended up maturing from this whole experience and like.. maybe fairies age up as they emotionally mature? (cos i mean how did the fairy queen get to be the only adult one, lol!) Or perhaps Uzu could wish to be human too in the end, and become your real sibling! it’d be so confusing to explain that your new ten year old sibling is actually 500 years older than you XD also poor faceless dad character wouldn’t be lonely now his protagochild has gone off to be the best at 63 potential careers, yknow? or haha, maybe just imagine a reverse au where you raise all the butlers and the princesses are the butlers? or the princesses are the dads and the dads are the kids? OR EVERYONE IS LUCIFON man i just rrly luv princess makerrrrr

[batterymonster2021]

CHASE STOLE MY BEST FRIEND! Roblox #10: ESCAPE from SCHOOL OBBY! (FGTEEV Weird Roleplay)

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/chase-stole-my-best-friend-roblox-10-escape-from-school-obby-fgteev-weird-roleplay/

CHASE STOLE MY BEST FRIEND! Roblox #10: ESCAPE from SCHOOL OBBY! (FGTEEV Weird Roleplay)

FGTV! Help me do there may be some bullies at my desk get for me up on their heads get him get him yeah good day guys what’s up its MCTV daddy and chase and we’re in tuition uh.. Who mentioned that. Why are you standing on my desk chase all right chase pay attention but we need to escape from college oh okay dude who is this man is that our teacher haha all right chase come on let’s comply with me i am gonna lead you we’re gonna go out of this study room we obtained to escape oh wait that’s external stop trying to kiss me chase the place, we can not get out of the door huh are man so how bowt in this study room oh, oh laptop classification maybe i will appear up instructions online.Scuse’ me sir used to be practically to make use of that . Are you able to get off of there exsuse me, sir i like trains i do not care Oh youtube k we gotta go on youtube okay, ok we have to search for easy methods to get away school. Adequate YouTube is not any good. What about Google, laptop, roblox, youtube, google. The excellent 4 locations to move on the computer. Let’s be exact fgtv youtube proper, Ya still none of this explains how we escape. A guide! A booklet! The place? You located a clue? It says I ought to go somewhere that is hidden. Oh you determined a e-book. Ok. Satisfactory. Let’s go to find somewhere that’s hidden let’s get out of here good day hello guys should you didn’t be aware of i am like the most wellknown child at college appear in any respect these humans all proper guys come on hear. Give up crowding around me i am gettin sweaty and i failed to put on deodorant and trying to go to a dance with Julie after university so hear we must break out tuition so i will be able to make it to the store get some new outfits all right let’s go i’m mad.Why are you mad let’s try and meet but let’s also what approach take it out to the Courtyard what does that mean if you’re mad you get to love press something huh I lat forty all i might regularly do this oh that’s my actual fate good that’s cool wait to peer my head and that i get it we’re gonna meet now but alright i’m so mad dude get out of right here i’m so mad i’m gonna be late for my date i don’t get out of this thinking college huh oh correct here the cracks whoa cool thank you acquired no shirt on what is that this factor we escaped from institution take a seat to be doing go by means of the cracks in a locker come on chase howdy are you following me yeah i’m ready for daddy hey man its educate guys in those preferred man in institution one no struggle good enough acquired it wit is someone harm Amy are not able to touch that watch up sure cannot go climb guys we gotta get it good ok I instance of the fellow in school I failed to look very coordinated I relatively simply do not know what i’m doing their ego takes me awhile to be taught things i am so wellknown i do not relatively have time to pay concentration who’s killing me are not able to one to leap did it now chase the place are you watching do not touch the blocks yes with the tremendous soar big challenge with the dream leap dude my college is acting all see I believe that is my take over there she said she loves me I didn’t put out the proprietor it’s letting you understand you still wish to go to the dance meet Julia bounce yeah Julia no do not run from me Julia died what where am I scared I did yeah we both escaped yeah yeah we escapes go now you gonna be with you yeah yeah come on cheese cheese do you’ve a day to grasp why do you wish to have to escape your mattress design you do not like dealing with the girl Oh which one there’s so lots of them i like the one in puppy what puppy the one in carpet yeah you could have a girlfriend who caught in carpet yeah so it’s variety of being one factor all your girlfriend’s name is carpet market yeah dude am i able to borrow his hot rod i wholly i’m gonna need this for my D all right Julia here I come going to select up julia she lives local we live in a quite small town i feel that is her condominium she has a butler her brother’s identify is a is Dominator excuse me mr.Dominator Butler have you ever visible Julia she’s upstairs k thanks man come on chase them in the house we’re going upstairs to seek out Julia Julia are you equipped i am here for my day Julia Julia see you upstairs do not consider whatever julia’s hair to ya oh howdy Julie i’m here to pick you up on a date i do not wish to go what i don’t even such as you you do not like me anymore I’ve ever what you do you like television beauty timber make me Tris mcnees julia says she wants to move on a date with you you at all times suppose like a pal I gotta get out of this out but thats it like you are on that I did all that work is it due to the fact that i didn’t put on the proprietor is let me jump to peer my kids to myself oh it is on account that i didn’t put out the order and teleport 2 winners sure i am a winner what is this super leap hall i would tremendous soar and that i could fly now quantity four that is no longer like tremendous leap to me well I received fired unhealthy grass pad just go pad developed pad lighting dangerous water dangerous sales space boy key keepers cross oh sure appear at this possibly i can win again Julia with my awesome strikes click on it we’d like all but juliana supply me that I get skateboard Julia Julia down here success i get skateboard now it can be a fab lean forward you bought your mobilephone meet you care well ok that’s it Julia you realize what i’m going to be with me i love your aid my fireplace Julius residences on hearth i’m sorry duenna just the teenagers crazy and out of control good good good good well oh I landed on high go down go to have we by means of happening the gala Julia continuously nonetheless like girlfriends believe possibly Superman making use of pre-okay other fourth grade i know all right Joe and why is so evil why you seem at me Julia used to be your day with g in finding some new pals i need Julia it can be generally going to be a buddy in this treehouse no fangs and there any person in right here Julie i’m going to depart me a number of seeking to get over you and all you do is you simply comply with me round besides getting out of here i’m jumping into this pit of lava is it love it’s typically no longer lovable up writing you to expense my motorcycle Julia you’re employed for builder brothers pizza mario luigi reset my personality mystery installed I had to get faraway from Julia she used to be so evil i made a brand new friend his name is will be he is gonna treat me better than Julia did now you wish to have to understand you just exhibit my female friend now you wish to have to find out how you can get a chicken just get far from me i’m flying around calling and it’s that after they ever i fell off the earth it goes my manner I simply wish to go up i am caught within the roots on there yes come again i go on top of here i’m gonna be like King Kong she know it’s no longer cheesy your different boyfriend haha that’s all i care is chase Julia look at you did this little one pygmy pay max to be my friend bags scale of 1 to 10 i’m feeling like a one proper now you help your attendees in foreign exchange currency trading every body whats up max what is what’s he doing again pal look at me i need to be associates will you be my friend will get lasering persons the college’s feeling ailing humans i am so angry you are disgusting thanks all now youngster backs is the most wellknown man here oh look an extra one thing but that you’re completed you flip the entire world against me Julie might we just speak Julia hear i do know there is quite a few people round us however I just I simply wish to speak to you I particularly like your automobile can consistently depart me by myself appear you made Julia leave now she’ll on no account talk 300 you come I got here and he or she said which is normally she stated she was once the submit of us comply with me guys if they follow me i’ll the moon going to the moon where I may to find true love wait nevermind there’s simplest man on they’ll a playground to lap are you in the market I acquired you a reward right here I received your present Julia so that you may you can also take me again right here have it and it you desired right here hello are we acquaintances once more I wait are you I suppose we are she likes me again chicks IPL good guys that is the worst day ever escaped from tuition however my coronary heart was broken and now there is there isn’t a one left to hang out with ordinary teacher you don’t even educate excellent you instructed me matters i learned final yr third grade very well teaching calculus or anything i go up taking place deep darkish gap excellent simply fob