#i don't want to overwhelm myself too much... i'm here to have fun!!!

[kmomof4]

Independence Day - A New Fic by @kmomof4 Ch. 1 July 2

IT'S HERRRRRRRRRRRRRRE!!!!!

I'm a little excited... I know y'all are so surprised... but seriously, I love this movie and I love this fic! It was so much fun to write last fall and I've been absolutely beside myself waiting to share it for the last nine months!!! I'm very happy with how it turned out and I so hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!

Before we get to the fic itself, I must give shoutouts to a few folks who were very instrumental in bringing this fic to you. My betas @snowbellewells and @jrob64 had quite a chore ahead of them since I didn't want them to start on it until I was finished writing. I think when Joni saw the length, she wanted to stop before she'd even started! Thank you so so much, ladies! I couldn't have done this without you both!! @hollyethecurious was my military consultant along with my dad, retired Air Force Lt. Col. And finally, @motherkatereloyshipper is an absolute angel and was responsible for the manips of Mary Margaret, Will, Lance, and Mulan I used in the artwork. Mulan will be in the artwork on the 4th. Don't they all look great? Please go give her all the love!!

And now on to the fic. It is three chapters covering three days - July 2, July 3, and July 4 - and the three chapters will post on their respective days. I hope the daily word count doesn't overwhelm you too much - I know the chs are long - but I think once you start reading, you'll find that they go quickly. Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I hope you let me know what you think!

Summary: Alien invaders attack on the Independence Day holiday weekend and a small group of survivors are called upon to defend Planet Earth.

Rating: T (mild language)

Words: 9500 of 34k

Tags: Inspired by Independence Day (movie)

On ao3

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells  @djlbg

@lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica

@laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter

@ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic

@elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90

@suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Chapter 1: July 2 

A shadow.

A shadow moved over the surface of the moon where rested the Apollo 11 descent stage which bore a plaque that read 

HERE MEN FROM THE PLANET EARTH

FIRST SET FOOT UPON THE MOON

JULY 1969, A. D.

WE CAME IN PEACE FOR ALL MANKIND

The bottom of the plaque bore the signatures of Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, Buzz Aldrin, and US President Richard M. Nixon. 

As the shadow advanced over the lunar landscape, Neil Armstrong's footprint - still clearly visible on the surface of the moon next to the spacecraft - slowly disappeared as the vibrations created from the advancing shadow caused the dust of the surface to fill in the bumps and ridges of the mark left by the astronaut so many years ago.

~*~*~

S. E. T. I., New Mexico

Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence Institute

Sean Herman hated the night shift. Well, mostly. There was always more to do and people to do it with when SETI was fully staffed during the day. Plus the fact that he’d much rather be in bed with his wife, Ashley instead of doing nothing but practicing his putting and listening to ‘80’s pop, as the long night stretched out ahead of him. 

He leaned over his putter, The End of the World As We Know It by R. E. M. playing loudly in the background, and prepared his shot. A flashing red light caught the corner of his eye and he looked up, his mouth hanging open slightly as his brain caught up with what his eyes were seeing. 

He rushed over to where the music was playing and turned the volume down, his eyes widening in disbelief. A sound not unlike old Morse Code - but much quicker, almost like machine gun fire - came from the speakers and Sean hurried over to the red line to alert his boss.

“If this is not an insanely beautiful woman, I’m hanging up,” the man grumbled into the phone.

“Sir, Sir,” Sean stammered, “I think you should listen to this.” He rolled his chair from the screen to the speaker and held the earpiece of the phone to it, the sound still coming through crystal clear. He didn’t move for a few moments and then brought the phone back to his ear to hear his boss sputtering and cursing. “Sir?” he asked confused, his extreme excitement tempered a bit by the stream of expletives pouring from the chief’s mouth. It took a few moments, but when his tirade finally died away, Sean waited for directions. Once received, he hung up and contacted the rest of the staffers.

Ten minutes later - when the chief finally arrived, his hand holding an ice pack on his head - everyone was at their stations.

“This better not be some Russian spy job…” the chief muttered as he entered the command center.

Billy looked up from his screen and pulled the phone away from his face as he reported, “Guys from air traffic control say the skies are clear.” 

A wide grin broke out on Sean’s face. “It’s the real thing! A radio signal from another world!”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here…” the chief told Sean, making a placating gesture with his unoccupied hand. “Get on the line with space command.” Sean’s wife, Ashley nodded and turned toward her screen. “They’re going to want to know about this.” The chief moved toward one of the many screens in the room, but tripped over the golf balls Sean had been too excited to clean up. “What were you doing? Golf balls? Are you kidding me? You’re trying to kill me…”

“Wait, a minute,” Ashley murmured, typing away while she looked at her screen, her brow furrowed in confusion. “This can’t be right…” The room was silent as they all waited for her next words. But when those words came, they were all as stunned as she was. “The calculated distance from the source is only three-hundred-seventy-five-thousand kilometers…” She turned and met Sean’s then the chief’s eyes in turn. “It’s coming from the moon.”

~*~*~

Space Command, The Pentagon

General Lance Knight strode down the hallway of Space Command inside the Pentagon, Commander Arthur King by his side briefing him before they entered the secure area.

“Who else knows about this?” Lance asked.

“SETI in New Mexico, Sir,” Commander King replied, opening the door for him and waiting until he entered. “But they’re even more confused than we are.” 

The men made their way toward the large table in the center of the room as Major Percy pulled out infrared images of some object approaching earth that they were all rather at a loss to explain.

“It has an estimated diameter of five-hundred-fifty kilometers,” Commander King continued, “and mass roughly one-quarter the size of our moon.”

“Is it a meteor?” Lance asked, looking between the two men. They both shook their heads and answered simultaneously.

“No.” 

“Definitely not.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s slowing down,” the major answered.

“What?”

“It’s…” Major Percy glanced at Commander King, and at his sharp nod continued, “slowing down, sir.”

Lance left the table and picked up the red line. “Get me the Secretary of Defense.” He listened for a moment and then barked, “Well, wake him!”

~*~*~

First Family Residence, the White House

The phone rang on the nightstand, and President David Nolan picked it up, a soft and rather goofy smile touching his lips.

“Hi,” his wife, Mary Margaret, greeted him.

“What time is it there?”

“2:45,” she replied. “I know I didn’t wake you.”

David chuckled good naturedly. “As a matter of fact, you did,” he said, his smile still firmly in place.

“Liar.” He could hear her smile in her words, and he was reminded of just how much he loved and missed her.

“You need to get some sleep,” he cajoled.

“I know, I just wanted to tell you good morning before I did and that I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too,” he replied. “I’ll talk to you later. After you get some sleep.”

“Alright. Bye.”

“Bye.”

David got out of bed and left the room. The McLaughlin Group was playing on the TV as he tied his robe closed and sat down to his cream cheese bagel and coffee breakfast. His perfectly put together - even before six in the morning - Press Secretary Regina Mills entered, holding the morning newspaper just as John McLaughlin posed a question to his panel.  

“President Nolan’s approval rating has dropped below 40%. Is the honeymoon period over for President Nolan, Morton?”

David rolled his eyes as Morton Kondracke, a reporter for Roll Call - essentially a Capitol Hill newsletter - answered McLaughlin’s question. “Leadership as a pilot in the Gulf War is completely different than leadership in the political arena.”

Elenor Clift, pundit for Newsweek magazine jumped in. “That’s the problem, they elected a warrior and they got a wimp!”

“Regina, you’re up awfully early this morning,” he observed as she sat down across from him at the small table.

“They’re not attacking your policies, they’re attacking your age,” she ranted. “Listen to this. ‘President Nolan seems less like the president and more like the orphan Oliver asking, Please, sir, I’d like some more.’” She folded up the paper and shot him a glare across the table. “Your age was never an issue before. Not when you stuck to your guns. You were thought of as young, idealistic…” she continued, her hands waving about for emphasis. “A breath of fresh air!”

“Isn’t it amazing how quickly everyone can turn against you,” he interjected, before taking another sip of his coffee. A staffer entered the room, catching both their attention. 

“Good morning, Mr. President. The Secretary of Defense is on the line.” David stood from the table and picked up the phone.

“Good morning, Isaac,” David greeted. He listened carefully as his Defense Secretary, Isaac Heller spoke. But he still couldn’t be quite sure he was hearing correctly. “Would you say that again?”

~*~*~

Central Park, New York City 

Robin Locksley looked at the chess board, calculating his next move. His father, Marco sat across from him puffing on his cigar and staring at him as if his unblinking gaze could somehow get Robin to move before he finished smoking it.

“What’s taking so long?” Marco asked.

“I’m thinking.”

“My social security will expire and you’ll still be there thinking,” Marco groused, taking a sip of his coffee.

Robin didn’t even look at him. “Do you have any idea how long it takes for one of those styrofoam cups to decompose?” he asked, conversationally.

“If you don’t move soon, I’m going to decompose.” 

Robin made his decision and moved, Marco moving only seconds later. Robin looked up, his countenance clearly expressing his irritation. When his father simply looked back at him, completely nonplussed, he looked back at the board between them.

“Listen, Robin. I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Marco began. 

Robin had a pretty good idea of what his father wanted to talk about and shot him a warning glance before he could get going. “Don’t start.”

Unfortunately, Marco didn’t take the hint and plowed ahead. “It’s been four years, Robin. Come on. You need to take off your wedding band.”

“It’s been three years,” Robin reminded him. “And, no.”

But Marco wasn’t to be deterred. “This isn’t healthy, son. It’s time to move on.”

“No, this,” Robin said, pointing to the cigar in Marco’s mouth, “This is not healthy.” Robin moved his chess piece and looked up, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Checkmate.”

Marco’s mouth dropped open, and he barely caught the cigar as it fell. “What? No! This is not checkmate.” He looked at the board and traced Robin’s last few moves before clenching his fist and hissing in displeasure.

Robin rose from his seat and kissed Marco on the top of his head. “See you tomorrow, Papa.” Marco continued his complaints under his breath as Robin hopped on his bicycle and started toward work. 

Once he arrived, Robin rode his bike in between the desks toward his office. His assistant, affectionately nicknamed Little John - though the only time the bear of a man might have been little was the day he was born - called out to him over the din of an even more chaotic bullpen than normal. Everyone was on the phone, raised voices assuring whoever was on the other end of the line that everything that could be done was being done and that their cable would be restored as soon as humanly possible. 

“Robin! Where have you been?” Little John cried. “What’s the point of having a pager if you don’t turn it on?

“It was turned on,” Robin replied, grinning at his colleague. “I was ignoring you. What’s the big emergency?” He got off his bike and leaned it against the glass wall of his office, then walked around to his desk. 

“It started this morning,” Little John informed him. “Every station is acting like it’s the 1950’s. We’ve got static, we’ve got snow, all sorts of distortions.” The man tossed the Coke can he held into the trash bin just outside Robin’s door and waved his arms around in dramatic frustration. 

Robin shot him a glare and retrieved the can from the trash himself. “We have recycling bins for a reason, Little John! Use them!” He tossed it into the recycling container and sat back down at his desk.

The annoyed glare Little John sent him was so out of character, Robin was taken aback for a moment. “So sue me! Robin, we have a problem!”

“Ok, ok,” Robin tried to calm the extremely agitated man down. “Did you try switching transponder channels?”

Little John’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. “Seriously, Robin? Do you think I’d be this panicked if it was something simple?”

“Point the dish at another satellite, then,” Robin suggested, turning to his computer.

“We tried that,” Little John informed him, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “It’s like they aren’t even there.”

Robin picked up the sheet of paper from the printer and began to look it over, his forehead furrowing after a few moments.

“What?” Little John asked.

Robin looked back at his assistant, confused unease on his face. “This is impossible.”

~*~*~

Imperial Valley, California

Nicholas Hatter stood at the stove of the family motorhome, cooking scrambled eggs for his two younger sisters, Grace and Ava, the former banging the side of the small antenna TV, which showed only snow on the screen. Suddenly an old beat up Chevy truck pulled up outside the motorhome, honking furiously. Nicholas turned the stove off and they ran outside to see what all the commotion was.

“Michael?” Nicholas asked as a man threw open the door of the truck and stomped around to the bed. Reaching in, he picked up a double handful of greens and marched toward where Nicholas and Grace were standing. 

“I’ve got a whole field of rotting vegetables,” Michael seethed, tossing the vegetables to the ground at their feet. “If your dad isn’t dusting my field in twenty minutes, I’m getting someone else.”

“I’ll find him,” Nicholas assured him. “I promise.” Michael drove away and Nicholas turned to Grace. “I’ve got to find Dad. Make sure you both eat breakfast,” he told her. Grace nodded as he ran toward his motorbike. 

Nicholas first sped toward the only bar in the tiny town about an hour east of Los Angeles. When he couldn’t find his father there, he drove towards the outskirts of town until he could see the telltale plume of pesticides falling from a single engine plane toward the earth below. Nicholas waved frantically at the plane. 

“Jefferson!” he hollered as loud as he could. He could see his father waving back enthusiastically before he brought the plane in for a landing. Nicholas caught up as Jefferson climbed out.

“This is the wrong field, you idiot!” Nicholas hollered. “Darling’s farm is on the other side of town!”

His father just stared at him for a moment, rather bleary eyed. He grabbed a flask from his pocket and took a long swig before turning back toward him. “Are you sure?” he asked. Nicholas just shook his head and rode away.

~*~*~

The Oval Office, White House

Regina entered the Oval Office to even more chaos than she expected. White House staffers, Pentagon officials, and members of David’s cabinet were scattered around - some on telephones, others shooting ideas back and forth - the anxious tension in the room so thick it could be cut with a knife.

“We don’t know enough about what we’re dealing with to make any kind of informed decision,” David said, thoroughly exasperated.

“But, that’s not stopping the press from making up their own stories,” Regina informed him, her grim words and countenance getting everyone’s attention. 

“We may need to upgrade to DEFCON 3,” David declared.

“Absolutely,” Defense Secretary Isaac Heller agreed. “Contact NORAD and tell them we’ve upgraded to DEFCON 3.”

Regina moved in close to her boss and whispered, “Are you sure that’s the right plan at the moment? Seems a little premature to me.”

“I said may,” David allowed, his gaze settling on Heller. “Though Isaac is a little too enthusiastic about the idea.”

The door to the Oval Office opened again, admitting two Pentagon soldiers. They approached the President and laid the case one of them carried down on the coffee table in the middle of the room. 

“Our intelligence shows it settling into a stationary orbit,” he said after opening the case so everyone could see the infrared photos inside. “Part of it has broken off into nearly three dozen smaller objects. Smaller than the whole, sir, yet each over fifteen miles in width themselves.”

Silence followed the man’s words until Heller asked the question they were all thinking. “Where are they heading?”

“They should be entering our atmosphere within the next twenty-five minutes.”

The silence in the room was deafening and David’s face was grim when he finally spoke. 

“Take us to DEFCON 3.”

~*~*~

Downtown Manhattan, New York City

Robin typed away on his computer and then hit the print button as Little John entered his office. 

“Please tell me we’re getting somewhere,” he moaned.

“Oh yeah, we’re getting somewhere,” Robin informed him. “The problem isn’t our equipment. There’s some sort of weird signal embedded in the satellite feed. And it has a definite sequential pattern. So as soon as I find the exact binary sequence, then I can calculate the phase reversal with the analyzer I built you for your birthday and apply it. We should be able to block it out completely.”

Robin looked at his assistant amusedly. He looked completely lost until almost the last sentence he spoke, then broke into a wide grin.

“And we’ll be the only company on the east coast with a clear picture!” he exclaimed. Robin nodded in agreement. Little John pumped his fist. “Yes, yes, yes!” Then he picked Robin up off his feet and hugged him as tightly as he could. 

Robin was having trouble breathing but still managed to choke out, “Oof, oof, not necessary, Little John!”

~*~*~

People all over the world - in major cities across Europe, Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and the United States - looked skyward as a phenomenon utterly foreign to all mankind occurred. 

The sky was split across the horizon - dark, rolling clouds lit up from within by fire - until even the clouds were split as a huge object emerged from the conflagration. The object - shaped like a round, flat disc - cast a shadow covering huge portions of each city, as the people poured into the streets to try and figure out what was happening.

Jefferson Hatter sat in a cafe in southern California, staring at the flask in his hand, until the sudden silence around him made him look up and outside through the front windows. He staggered to his feet, his mouth dropping open at the sight. His kids, back at the motorhome, thought it was an earthquake. Nicholas gathered his sisters in his arms and got them out of the shaking vehicle, before staring dumbfounded at the object in the sky over Los Angeles. 

Elsewhere, across America and around the world, children on the playground halted their games, vehicles came to a stop in the middle of the street, people left their desks, their houses of worship, their shopping, their homes, all to bear witness to the sight above. As one, humanity watched and then, aghast and terror-stricken, ran for whatever semblance of safety might be found when their entire world - and worldview - burned in the inferno of the skies above.

Inside the Oval Office, everyone was on a phone confirming sightings of the alien ships around the world. A submarine in the Persian Gulf confirmed two alien crafts heading for Cairo and Baghdad, while the TV showed a broadcast in Russia, panicked citizens in the background, reporting a craft moving toward Moscow.

General Lance Knight pressed the speaker button on the phone and hung up. “Captain, the President is listening. Tell him what you just told me.”

After a moment of static, the captain of a Boeing E-3 on the California coast came through. 

“We still have zero visibility. Instrumentation is malfunctioning. We can’t get any kind of reading on what’s in front of us.” The captain paused for a moment as the people in the Oval Office held their breath. “Wait a minute. There may be some clearing up ahead.” There was a longer silence, until shouts from the plane reached their ears. “PULL UP! PULL UP!” 

In the silent aftermath of the terrified shouts, Lance picked the phone back up and tried to re-establish a connection for a moment before hanging up and looking around, his face grim. “Line’s gone.”

Next to Lance, another general put down his phone. “They’re tracking two more on the east coast. One is moving toward New York. The other… here.”

“How much time do we have?” Lance asked.

“Less than ten minutes, Sir.”

“Mr. President,” Lance said, “I strongly recommend we move you to a secure location, immediately.”

Heller moved toward David to escort him out, but the President didn’t move. 

“No. I’m not leaving.” Heller, Lance, and Regina exchanged stunned and fearful glances.

“We need to maintain a functioning government,” Heller said.

David acknowledged the man with a nod, but still didn’t move. “I’m staying here. I’m not going to contribute to a panic that will cost lives. Get the Vice President, Joint Chiefs, the entire cabinet and move them to a secure location.” 

“You heard him,” Heller said to the aide at his side. “Take them to NORAD.”

“Regina,” David continued, “engage the Emergency Broadcast Service. Advise people not to panic. The best idea right now is to stay in their homes.” Regina nodded and, signalling to two other staffers, left the office.

Silence descended for a moment as everyone had their marching orders and hurried to carry them out. Lance looked at David with a proud, but resigned smile on his face. 

“Mr. President,” he said, “with your permission, I’d like to remain at your side.”

“I had a feeling you would,” David replied, a soft smile on his face as he looked at not only his mentor, but his friend.

“And what happens if they do become hostile?” the General asked.

“Then God help us all.”

~*~*~

Downtown Manhattan, New York City

Robin entered the bullpen, printout in hand, barely registering the voice of General Lance Knight on the TVs that encompassed the entire wall behind him.

“There is no evidence that these phenomena are endangering anyone,” the General said. “Thus far, reports of aggression…”

“Little John, listen to this…” Robin interrupted. “I got a lock on the signal so we can filter it out. But, if my calculations are correct, it’ll be gone in like seven hours anyway. It’s reducing itself every time it recycles… so eventually it’s going to disappear…” Robin looked up from his printout to see no one listening to him. Their eyes were all glued to the wall of TVs behind him. 

A moment later, Little John’s gaze met his. “Robin, haven’t you been listening?” he asked, gesturing forcefully at the monitors behind him. Robin turned to see his ex-wife, Regina Mills step to the podium in the White House briefing room.

“Good afternoon.” It had been three years since he’d seen her in person, and Robin’s heart still fluttered in his chest at the sight of the love of his life. She was the consummate professional, but he could see the strain around her lips, eyes, and shoulders that betrayed to him - though likely not to anyone else - just how unsettled she was. “So far, the phenomenon has not caused any damage. We have to ask you to please stay calm and not panic. One is heading toward Los Angeles, the two on the eastern seaboard are heading to New York and Washington DC.”

Robin looked around at his colleagues, his own alarm reflected back to him from over two dozen pairs of eyes. 

“There’s an old bomb shelter in the basement,” Little John called, “Everyone head down! Walk! Don’t run!”

~*~*~

Irvine, California, suburb of LA

Five-year-old Henry Swan ran down the hallway towards his mom’s bedroom, water gun in his hand, making shooting sounds. He burst into the room where she and her boyfriend were still asleep.  

“Mommy,” he cried, “lookit! Lookit!”

Emma sat halfway up, her eyes stubbornly remaining closed. “It's too early, baby,” she moaned before falling back to the bed.

Killian turned over and pulled her back into his arms, nuzzling behind her ear. “Earthquake?” he asked.

“Not even a four pointer,” she mumbled. “Go back to sleep.”

~*~*~

Washington DC

Six-year-old Leo Nolan sprinted into the Oval Office and straight into his father’s arms as a shadow from outside darkened the room considerably.

“What’s happening, Daddy?” he asked, burying his face into his dad’s neck in fear.

“It’s going to be alright, son,” David assured him as he and the other staffers moved out of the Oval Office to the balcony. The ship above them cast its shadow over the mall from the Lincoln Memorial in the west to the Capitol, Library of Congress, Supreme Court and beyond in the east, encompassing the White House to the north, to the Jefferson Memorial on the other side of the Tidal Basin to the south.

“Now what do we do?” Regina asked from behind him.

“Address the nation,” he replied, grimly. “There’s gonna be a lot of frightened people out there.”

Regina leaned forward, her chin inches from his shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. I’m one of them.”

~*~*~

Manhattan, New York City

Robin took the stairs toward the roof two at a time as the other workers in the building moved as quickly as possible in the other direction. 

“Robin, you coming?” someone asked.

“I have to see it,” he said, hardly sparing them a glance.

He opened the door to the roof and emerged into the unnatural darkness caused by the ship above. He watched as it slowly moved across the sky - covering the heavens in every direction - until what looked like the center of the craft came to a stop over the Empire State Building.

Robin looked down at the printout still held in his hand.

“The signal…” he breathed as the puzzle came together in his mind. “My God…” He ran back inside and down the stairs to his floor as fast as his legs would carry him to find the floor empty but for Little John who was on the phone with his mother. The TVs were still running with broadcasts in between bursts of static from around the world showing the ships over London, Paris, Beijing, New Delhi, and Rome.

“I know, Ma,” Little John cajoled. “But could you please just try not to panic?”

Robin came to a stop in front of him. “Tell her to pack up and get out of town,” he said urgently.

Little John met his gaze, but didn’t question him. “Ma, pack up your things and go to Aunt Edna’s. Don’t argue with me, just do it!” he shouted before hanging up. “Robin, why did I just send my mother to Atlanta?”

“No!” Robin hollered from inside his office, “Not Atlanta! Out of town! Out of the big cities! Atlanta will be next!” He grabbed his messenger bag and bicycle and hurried back out into the bullpen to find Little John just outside his office door.

“What? Why? What’s happening?”

Robin didn’t break his stride as he moved with purpose across the room. “Didn’t you hear me tell you that the signal was winding down? In the satellite feed? That it’d be gone soon?”

“No, not really.” If the situation wasn’t so dire, Robin might have chuckled. As it was, he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“It’s a countdown,” Robin informed him. Little John stopped in his tracks, confusion all over his face.

“A countdown to what?” Little John shouted as he chased his boss across the room. “Robin!”

Robin finally came to a stop just before climbing on his bike, resigned to explaining as much as he could to his assistant and friend. “It’s like in chess. You strategically position your pieces, and when the time is right, you strike.” He pointed to the TVs. “They’re positioning themselves all over the world, using this one signal to synchronize their efforts. And in approximately six hours,” he continued roughly, checking his watch, “the signal’s gonna disappear and the countdown will be over.”

Silence met his words. “And then what?” Little John whispered.

“Checkmate.”

The blood drained from Little John’s face, his eyes wide as saucers. “Oh, my God,” he breathed.

“Get out of town as soon as you can,” Robin urged him. “Stay away from the big cities.”

Little John nodded but didn’t move. 

“Go!” Robin shouted, finally prompting the man into action. Robin turned to the wall of screens behind him as President Nolan came to the podium.

“Good afternoon. A historic and unprecedented event has occurred. The question of whether or not we’re alone in the universe has been answered. Although it’s understandable that many of us feel a sense of hesitation, or even fear, we must attempt to reserve judgment.”

Regina was standing in the wings watching David address the nation when an aide got her attention, a phone in his hand. “He says he’s your husband.”

Regina’s eyes widened in disbelief, her lips pressed together as she took the phone, a whispered oh my God under her breath emerging from her lips. “What do you want?” she asked as smoothly as possible, hoping no one around her could hear her thundering heartbeat, now for a completely different reason than just a few minutes earlier.

“You have to get out of the White House,” Robin burst out.

Regina turned away from where David was still speaking, and moved further into the hallway away from the other staffers. “This is hardly the time or the place to have this discussion, Robin.”

“No, you don’t understand. You have to leave Washington.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re having a bit of a crisis here,” she said, her voice now an agitated whisper. 

“They’re communicating with a hidden signal, they’re going to attack.”

Regina fought not to roll her eyes. “You’re just being paranoid, Robin.”

“It’s not paranoia,” he insisted. “The embedding is very subtle, it’s probably been overloo...” A dial tone met his words.

Robin’s attention turned back to the TVs as President Nolan continued. “My staff and I will remain in the White House as we attempt to establish communication. If you feel compelled to leave these cities, please do so in an orderly fashion.”

Robin gulped hard as he got on his bike, knowing exactly what he needed to do.

~*~*~

Irvine, California

Captain Killian Jones of the United States Marine Corp woke up some hours later and shuffled his way to the bathroom. Through the window, he could see the neighbors all the way down the street leaving their homes with suitcases in their hands.

When he entered the kitchen, the small antenna TV showed a news report that he still wasn’t quite awake enough to pay attention to. He looked at the screen and saw a map of the affected region with the news person urging people to stay off the roads.

“Hey, Emma,” he called. “The news is reporting on the earthquake. I think it might have been bigger than we thought.”

A small arm holding a water gun snaked around the edge of the door leading outside and a stinging stream of water hit his naked chest. Killian chuckled and grabbed the arm, as his other hand rubbed the spot where the water hit him.

“What are you doing, lad?” he asked, hugging the little boy to him.

“I’m shooting the aliens,” Henry replied, shrugging. He returned Killian’s hug, then broke away and ran back outside as Emma entered the kitchen, pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. 

Killian couldn’t pass up the opportunity and grabbed her around the waist, nuzzling into and then kissing up and down the slope of her neck before capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Probably a bit too passionate with Henry right outside. But he couldn’t help it when she enthusiastically returned his morning greeting.

Killian finally released her, his eyebrows waggling at her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, and walked out to get the paper, tripping over Henry’s toys along the way. He stood in the yard and opened the paper before the shouts from the neighbors on both sides registered in his brain. 

“Come on, let's GO!” a man shouted, followed closely by a car door slam. Killian’s eyes cut to the right and left to see what was going on, then looked up to a helicopter flying toward Los Angeles in the distance.  Killian’s face went slack in stunned disbelief as his brain tried to register what his eyes were seeing.

A huge black disc - from this distance, looking to encompass the entire city - hovered over the valley. Killian stared, his mouth hanging open, as Emma ran out with a mug in her hand.

“You want this coffee, babe?” Her words registered, but he couldn’t respond. “Babe?”

She looked toward the valley in the distance and the distant shattering of the mug she had held in her hand reached his ears. Henry appeared between them both and shot his water gun at the ship in the distance.

Some thirty minutes later, Killian came out of the bedroom, in uniform, his bag packed. Emma paced angrily in the living room.

“They can’t do this,” she growled. “You have to call them back!”

“Yes, they can, Emma. I have to report to El Toro.” He knew she was angry, and disappointed - their limited time together lately responsible for their very late night the night before and lie-in this morning - but he didn’t have a choice. Not with the alien spaceship covering the horizon above Los Angeles.

“But you had leave for the 4th!”

“Well, they canceled it!” he shouted through grit teeth. “Look, the Black Knights are the first line of defense against them. I can’t just think about you and Henry! I have a duty to my country. Who do you think is gonna go up against them? Those idiots down there shooting their guns into the sky?” he asked, referencing a news report they’d listened to as he packed.

Emma stared at him, her stance as rigid as a board, arms crossed, the emotions parading across her face going between anger, frustration, and stunned disbelief, all over a layer of unadulterated fear, as he moved toward the door.

“I was a Marine and pilot before I met you, Emma, and this is what it means to be in the Marine Corp. I don’t have a choice,” he said, quietly looking out at the alien ship before turning back toward her again. “Look, I don’t think they flew ninety billion light years to come down here and start a fight, so just relax. I’m going to report to El Toro and find out what’s going on.” 

Killian chuckled when he saw Henry sitting in the driver’s seat of his classic Chevelle convertible - restored by his own hands - as he walked down the front walk.

“What are you doing in there, lad?”

“I’m a racecar driver,” the little boy said before resuming his vroom vroom sound effects. Killian chuckled again as he lifted him out of the seat and gave him a handful of sparklers.

“You be careful with these, alright?” he asked. “Don’t use them without your mom around. When I get back, we’ll go see some real fireworks.”

“Ok.”

“Hold on,” Emma called, running out of the house toward them. “I want to tell you something.”

He turned to her, trying his best to remain stoic, but he couldn’t help the surge of hope within him that she might tell him how she felt about him. How she felt about them. She’d been through a lot in her life, and he’d taken his cues from her as their relationship deepened over the last eight months. 

“What is it, Emma?” he asked, searching her eyes. Her chin trembled slightly and her own stoicism melted into vulnerability and fear before she spoke. 

“You come back to me, you hear?” It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he’d still take it. He knew she cared about him, and that was going to have to do for now.

“What have I told you, Swan?” he asked with a smirk. “I’m a survivor.” His smirk turned soft, and he tenderly ran his knuckles down the side of her face. “I’ll come back to you, Swan. I promise.” She smiled softly in return, and Killian could hardly breathe. “Listen, why don’t you go pack a bag for you and Henry and come stay with me at the base?”

The smile on her face was a mixture of joy and stunned surprise. “You’d do that? Really?”

His cocky Captain’s persona slipped into place with her question, masking his own vulnerability and fear of rejection in making the offer in the first place. “Well, I’ll just have to tell all my other girlfriends…”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she interrupted, grabbing his tie and pulling him to her for a passionate kiss.

“Why, Swan,” he said, waggling his brows, his grin full of joy when she finally released him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Jealous over you?” she asked, scoffing, with a roll of her eyes. “Pfft… you with those elf ears.” Her words were laced with affection as she stroked the tip of one, but then her countenance turned mischievous and smug. “But you are not as charming as you think you are, sir.”

He smirked and waggled his brows at her again. “Yes, I am.” Then he hauled her to him and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.

~*~*~

The Bronx, New York City

Robin wove his bike in between the stopped and abandoned cars that littered the street. His father’s neighbors were in full blown panic mode, running down the street, their arms filled with everything they could carry. He took the steps up to his Papa’s front door two at a time and banged as hard as he could. Only a moment later, Marco threw open the door, a shotgun in his hand. Robin grabbed it.

“Papa?!” he shouted.

“They’re nothing but hoodlums!” Marco shouted right back, poking his head out and turning left and right, looking for whoever might be coming after him next.

“Do you still have the Plymouth?” Robin asked him.

That got his Papa’s attention. “You want to borrow the car?” he asked, completely dumbfounded. “You don’t have a license.”

“You’re driving. Let’s go!”

~*~*~

David sat down on the bed as the line connected him to Mary Margaret. 

“I really want you out of LA.” He didn’t have time for niceties, but he also knew his wife, who did not like to be told what to do. Even in a situation like this. His chances were maybe slightly better than half that she’d just do what he wanted her to do without questioning.

“You’re doing the right thing staying there as a calming presence,” she said, loyally. “I’m behind you 100%.”

“I appreciate you’re trying to help me,” he said, keeping his voice calm, though he was afraid he couldn’t completely hide his frustration from his beloved wife.

“Liar,” she accused, without heat. “Stick with the truth, it's what you’re good at.”

Her spirit made him smile. “Ok, I’ll tell you the truth,” he said. “I don’t want you anywhere near any of those cities.”

Mary Margaret sighed and stopped her pacing.“I’ll leave as soon as the interviews are done.”

“Thank you,” he said. “There’s a helicopter waiting to take you to Nellis. In Vegas.”

“And Leo?”

“He’s going to meet you there.”

“Alright,” she said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

~*~*~

For some reason, the interstate heading south toward Washington DC was completely clear while the opposite direction was bumper to bumper traffic. Robin’s gaze bounced between the road ahead of them and his father, going a full ten miles an hour below the posted speed limit. 

“It’s the White House!” Marco exclaimed. “You can’t just drive up and ring a bell. It’s the president, my boy!”

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Robin asked. Marco carried on his monologue as if he hadn’t even spoken. 

“You think they don’t know what you know? Believe me, they know. They know everything.”

“They don’t know this…” Robin murmured.

“Ohhhh, you’re going to enlighten them…” Marco said, a hint of condescension coloring his words. “Tell me, if you’re so smart, how do you spend eight years at MIT to become a cable repairman? If they want HBO, they’ll call you.”

“Can’t you drive any faster?” Robin was having trouble keeping still, his own leg itching to hit a gas pedal that wasn’t there.

“I can’t go any faster, they’re cutting me off here!” Marco said, gesturing to the other cars around them.

“No one’s cutting you off!” Robin nearly shouted. “Nevermind, I don’t want to argue. Just get there! As quickly as possible.” He covered his eyes, hoping his blindness to how slowly they were moving would help lower the tension inside of him.

“What?” Marco asked, not a hint of sarcasm in his words. “You think we’ll get to Washington and it won’t be there?” 

Robin looked over at his father incredulously. Yeah, Papa, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

~*~*~

Imperial Valley, California

Nicholas, Grace, and Ava Hatter stared at the TV - various looks of shock and dismay on their faces - as they watched the police lead their father away from City Hall where he’d been arrested for dropping leaflets from his plane and then disturbing the peace by yelling at passers by about the alien invasion. 

“We’ve got to stop them!” he shouted into the camera. His eyes were bloodshot and crazed and Nicholas could do nothing but shake his head. “I was kidnapped by aliens ten years ago. They’ve been studying us for years! Finding out our weaknesses. We’ve got to stop them!”

Nicholas couldn’t watch any more. He stood up and snapped the TV off. “Come on, we’re leaving.” He settled himself into the driver’s seat of the motorhome and cranked it up. As he was pulling away from the camp, a pickup truck stopped and a very familiar silhouette staggered out of the passenger seat.

“You read my mind!” Jefferson hollered, flagging down his son. “We have to get as far away from these things as we can.”

Nicholas climbed out, not believing what his eyes were seeing. “They let you out?”

“You’d better believe it,” Jefferson answered, looking to the sky. “They have much bigger fish to fry right now! Let��s go!” He patted Nicholas on the shoulder and they both climbed back in the motorhome.

~*~*~

Squadron 314 The Black Knights Headquarters

El Toro Marine Base, California

Killian entered the squadron headquarters to find all his fellow pilots surrounding the TV. He found his best friend, Will Scarlet and tapped his shoulder, getting the man’s attention.

“I think we can do something better with our time, gentlemen,” Killian called out before heading towards his locker. When he arrived, he found an envelope sticking out. He turned it over and caught his breath. It was from NASA.

“Oh, no, no, no…” he all but moaned, handing it to Will. “I can’t do it… You’ll have to do the honors.” He turned his back to his locker and leaned up against it, not sure his legs were going to be able to hold him up. No matter what the official letter said.

“You wuss,” Will teased.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just read it.”

“It says, Captain Killian Jones, loser.” His tone was playful and teasing as his friend pointed his finger at him. Killian banged his head against the locker behind him. “United States Marine Corp, blah blah blah blah,” he continued, before his tone turned abruptly serious and despondent. “We regret to inform you that in spite of your excellent service record…” 

Killian blew out his held breath and turned around to his locker, trying desperately to blink away the tears that threatened to spill. 

“I’m sorry, man,” Will sympathized. 

Killian opened his locker and glanced at the picture of the flag on the moon inside the door. All he’d ever wanted to be was an astronaut, and this morning, that dream seemed as unreachable as the moon itself.

“You know what you need to do?” Will asked, some of his cheeky spunk back in his words. “You need to kiss some serious booty to get ahead in this world. That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Killian glanced over his shoulder to see Will getting down on one knee behind him. Killian rolled his eyes. “See, for me, I like the one knee approach. It puts the booty right in the perfect position…” 

Killian reached into his locker and a small box fell out. Will grabbed it, being closer to the floor, before Killian could make any move to pick it up. As Will opened it up, Killian scratched behind his ear in nervousness. 

“This is a wedding ring,” Will said, holding it in both hands, his eyes wide. He looked every inch the man proposing to his love as he held the box up toward Killian.

He took the box from his friend and stared down at the ring inside - a cluster of diamonds making up the body of a swan and a half-carat solitaire nestled in the curve of its golden neck. “I’ve been looking for months for a ring,” he murmured quietly, “But there was nothing out there… that was just her, you know? Nothing was exactly right. So, I designed this and had it made. I thought she’d like it.”

Will stood up and put his hand on Killian’s shoulder. “She’ll love it, man. You know I like Emma,” he said after pausing for a moment, no hint of teasing in his tone. “You know that, right? But, Killian, you are never going to fly the space shuttle if you marry a stripper.”

~*~*~

Robin could see the Capitol Building and Washington Monument in the distance as they drove into Washington, the familiar spectre of the alien ship hovering over the city. The northbound lanes of the interstate were bumper to bumper and unmoving, people abandoning their vehicles, taking everything they could carry with them, walking and running along the median. 

Robin pulled his laptop out of his messenger bag and opened it. 

“What are you doing?” Marco asked as Robin started typing.

“Regina always has her portable phone listed for emergencies.” Marco’s gaze bounced between his son and the road ahead as he typed in R. Mills, Q. Mills, EQ Mills.

“EQ?” he asked.

“Evil Queen,” Robin said, a smirk on his face as he remembered. “It was her nickname in college.”

“Did you try Locksley?” Marco asked.

Robin turned disbelieving eyes on his father. “She didn’t take my name when we were married,” he said. “What makes you think she’d be listed that way now?”

“Just try it,” he urged.

Not having anything to lose, Robin typed in R. Locksley, then EQ Locksley when that didn’t work. Regina’s number suddenly appeared on the screen and Robin looked over at his Papa, who looked quite smug. 

“So what do I know?” he asked his son.

They pulled up outside the gate of the White House, driving slowly to avoid all the protesters. Robin called Regina’s number and blew out a frustrated breath when he was met with a busy signal. He reached into his bag and pulled out a handy little gizmo that he affixed to the top of the Plymouth.

“She’s using the phone,” Robin murmured. “With this, I’ll use her signal to triangulate her exact position in the White House.

“You can do that?” Marco asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Robin replied. “All cable repair men can, Papa.”

In the hallway outside the Oval Office, Regina hung up her phone and immediately it rang again. 

“Don’t hang up, sweetheart.”

“Robin!” she exclaimed in a whisper. “How did you get this number?”

“Look out the window.”

Regina moved toward the window at the end of the hall and pulled back the draperies. “What am I looking for?”

“See us?” Robin asked, waving as soon as he saw her beautiful face in the window.

“How does he do that?” she mumbled to herself.

~*~*~

Regina led Robin and Marco into the Oval Office.

“He’s not going to be happy to see you,” she said with a shrug.

“Then we’re wasting our time,” Robin replied. “You have the information, you can tell him.”

“You need to be the one to tell him,” she insisted. “You’re the expert.”

“Why won’t he be happy to see you?” Marco asked.

Not taking his eyes off Regina, Robin answered his father. “The last time he saw me, I might have punched him,” he said, pursing his lips and shrugging.

Marco’s eyes widened in surprised horror. “You punched the President?”

“He wasn’t the president at the time.” Robin did his best to downplay what had happened and refute Marco’s conclusion, but there really wasn’t any way around it.

“Why did you punch the President?”

“It’s not like that, Papa! He punched me back! It was a fight!”

“A fight that you started,” Regina reminded him before turning back to Marco. “Because he blamed David for me… for the breakup… for the divorce,” Regina stammered. “I’m going to get him. Don’t touch anything.”

“You punched the President?” Marco asked again as soon as she’d left the room.

Robin sighed in acquiescence. “I punched the President, Papa.”

Regina entered the cabinet room where David and the rest of the staff watched as reporters filled the screen and helicopters prepared to take off in an attempt to communicate with the alien ships. 

“Since we have been unable, so far, to communicate with our visitors,” the announcer began, “these Skylift helicopters have been retrofitted with a visual communication device.” 

“They’re just about to lift off,” Lance informed Regina as she moved quickly towards David and leaned over, whispering in his ear.

“I need you to come with me,” she said.

The broadcast continued in the background. “Welcome Wagon is in the air.”

David turned toward her, confusion in his eyes. “Now?”

“Roger, Welcome Wagon. Echo One, right beside you,” a voice came over the broadcast.

Regina nodded and motioned the President to follow her before turning and leaving.

David looked back to the screen and then got to his feet and followed her out.

“You’re leaving now?” Isaac asked. David ignored him and left the room.

~*~*~

Robin was typing away on his laptop when President Nolan and Regina walked in.

“I don’t have time for this,” the President snapped, turning back towards the door of the Oval Office.

It only took Marco a moment to approach the President, hand outstretched, while Regina crossed to Robin as he frustratedly closed his laptop.

“Mr. President, Mr. President,” Marco began, “Marco Locksley, Robin is my son…”

“I told you he wouldn’t listen to me,” Robin said, coming to meet Regina in front of the desk.

“You have to tell him now,” she insisted.

“Regina,” David’s voice contained a warning that she ignored, her voice raised above them all, silencing everyone. 

“Robin, tell him!”

Robin cut his eyes over to the President, who stood, warily eyeing him, his hands on his hips.

“I know why we have satellite disruption.”

Cautious attentiveness sparked in David’s eyes as he took a step closer to where Robin stood.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m listening. Go ahead.”

Robin grabbed a sheet of White House stationary from the desk and turned it over, drawing a rough image of the situation facing them - earth in the middle with three large objects forming a sort of triangle around their celestial home.

“Let’s say that you wanted to communicate with spaceships on opposite sides of the planet.” He drew straight lines from the apex of the triangle, missing the earth and the objects forming the two bottom angles, then held up the paper for David to see. “You couldn’t send a direct signal.”

“You’re talking about line of sight,” David said, nodding in understanding and taking a step closer.

 “Right,” Robin replied. “The curve of the earth prevents it. You’d have to bounce the signal off satellites to reach your other ships.” He drew satellites in position and then drew straight lines from the satellites to the two space ships on the other side of Earth and held it up again for David to see. “Well, I found a signal hidden inside our own satellite system. They’re using that to communicate.”

Everyone was silent as the implication became crystal clear. 

“They’re using our own satellites against us,” Robin continued. He opened his laptop and turned it around so they could all see the descending countdown which now read 27:59. “And the clock is ticking.”

~*~*~

David burst back into the cabinet room, barking orders. 

“General Knight, coordinate with Atlantic Command to evacuate the cities. As many people as they can.”

“Yes, sir,” the General replied, before picking up the phone in front of him.

David pointed at the screen. “Get those helicopters away from the ship. Call them back immediately. Johanna,” he continued, turning to the woman standing behind him, “my son.” She nodded and hurried away.

“What the hell’s going on?” Isaac asked.

“We’re leaving,” David informed him and the rest of the staffers scattered around the room.

Suddenly, from the TV, they heard the pilot of the helicopter speak. “Something’s happening.”

“They’re responding,” Isaac repeated, excitedly. They all stopped what they were doing and watched as an ice blue light could be seen in the opening crack across the middle of the ship.

“There’s some kind of activity here,” the pilot said. “Something is opening.”

From the other helicopter, they heard another voice. “We see it, too. Can’t identify it.”

Suddenly a beam of light came from the ship and the hovering helicopters burst into flames. Horrified silence filled the room before everybody moved towards the door, the announcer in the background expressing condolences to the families of the fallen soldiers.

It took only minutes for the President - holding his son - Regina, Lance, Robin, and Marco to emerge into the night to the waiting helicopters, followed closely by several Secret Service agents.

“We are evacuating,” one of the agents reported into his earpiece. “I repeat, we are evacuating the White House.” 

“Is my wife in the air?” David asked as he strapped himself and his son in their seats.

“She will be shortly,” Lance replied, doing the same.

As soon as Robin was strapped in, he opened his laptop. The countdown showed 9:11.

On the other side of the country, First Lady Mary Margaret Nolan stopped just before climbing into the waiting helicopter and turned toward a nearby skyscraper with people on top welcoming the alien ship. They were in a frenzy of ecstatic joy and couldn’t be bothered to obey the police helicopter circling ordering them to disburse. She couldn’t turn away from the scene, having a pretty good idea of what was about to happen.

“Mrs. Nolan,” the Secret Service officer called, carefully grabbing her arm to get her to move, “the President has ordered our evacuation.” 

“Yes, of course,” she agreed, turning once more toward the helicopter.

The moment Mary Margaret was strapped in, the agent closed and locked the door before speaking into his earpiece. “The First Lady is secure. We’re on the move.”

Emma and Henry Swan were stuck in standstill traffic in the Second Street Tunnel trying to get out of LA. Emma glared at the radio as the announcer informed the public that the authorities had called for a complete evacuation of Los Angeles County and to avoid the highways wherever possible.

“Great,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Now he tells me.”

Around the world, people in the cities directly underneath the spaceships saw what could only be described as a blooming flower as the ships opened up from the center, the unfurling arms looking like petals opening to the sun. An otherworldly blue light shone down on the earth beneath the craft, completely covering the largest and most prominent cities across the globe. 

At Joint Base Andrews in Maryland, David and the others disembarked from Marine 1 to load Air Force 1. Everyone rushed to a seat and strapped in. The moment Robin buckled his seatbelt, he opened the laptop. 

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

0.

“Checkmate,” Robin breathed.

Air Force 1 taxied down the runway, as a beam of blue light shot down from the alien ship to the White House. The resulting fireball chased Air Force 1 into the air, everyone inside the aircraft holding their breath and gripping their arm rests, absolutely terrified. The lights inside the plane flashed and the rattle from the vibrations of the explosion had more than one person breathing a prayer to God above to keep them safe. Would the flames reach them? Would they make it out alive?

Still sitting inside the tunnel, Emma became aware of people running past her classic yellow bug. She looked in her rearview mirror, to see nothing but fire coming at them. She turned around - just to see it with her own two eyes - before she scrambled out and grabbed Henry from his booster in the back seat. Holding him to her, she joined the other people and ran as fast as she could, in and out and between abandoned vehicles, until she caught sight of a utility closet in the wall of the tunnel. She ran toward it and kicked the door in - a flying motorcycle just missing them as they ducked inside the small closet - the fireball passing them by. 

Then there was silence.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! July 3 will be up in the morning!

[pawnkyyy]

Day 12 : Mistletoe 🍒

Ikemen Advent hosted by Mimi @candied-boys and Julie @queengiuliettafirstlady (..◜ᴗ◝..) (..◜ᴗ◝..)

i draw Jude and Victor! (+Will and Ellis :3 )

Just another normal Crown's day in the Christmas season ..........

[sysig]

Growing closer than expected (Patreon)

[byanyan]

okay i am... feeling some kind of motivated today, so i think... i'm gonna just dig all the way down to the bottom of my drafts and work my way up without letting myself overthink about what i'm writing or whether or not it's "good enough" bc that (plus the number of drafts) it what's been really blocking my progress. anything i get done is getting tossed into my (still paused) queue, and... idk. maybe if i make enough progress i'll let the queue start tomorrow, we'll see

[sabertoothwalrus]

your character designs are incredible! do you keep anything/any thought processes in mind as you draw fanart vs how you draw ocs?

OOOOOO what a fun question...

I'd say my general thought process about how to build a new character-- figuring out who they are and what they do and what they're like-- is all pretty much the same across the board. The main difference between designing fan characters vs original characters is how I answer those sorts of questions.

For original characters, it can be almost overwhelming because I get to choose everything. I can make everything perfectly suited to my own tastes, except I have a broad range of things I like, and my tastes change constantly FJHFHD so depending on the project, choosing a more specific direction helps narrow things down.

Here's some old ocs I redrew recently. They're from an old story I'm not planning on revisiting, but it was about an art student, her little brother, and some grim reapers. Can you tell who is who?

I wanted the alive characters to have a lot of Opposites from the reapers. Warm vs Cool colors. Round vs Angular shapes. I wanted the reapers to look skeletal and sickly looking, and it was important that they all had some kind of hood. They needed to wear black & grey, but their colors still needed to be interesting, so they're all tinted with a color (one is sort-of blue, one is sort-of red, one is sort-of purple).

The story is more serious, so it felt appropriate that the characters were more realistically proportioned compared to some of the cartoonier designs I tend to do. They're still heavily stylized, and I tried to push myself to go harder on the shape language and Appeal™.

For fan characters, it's actually a lot of fun because so much of the work has been done for you. The more source material you have to work with, the less you have to come up with.

So, an example I'm going to use is Hugh Dini, a character I came up with as part of a fan concept for a new entry in the Ace Attorney series.

Phoenix Wright's daughter, Trucy, is a magician. She was 17 in her last appearance, and my fan concept takes place 7 years later, so she'd be 24. I decided she'd have a boyfriend who is also her assistant, and went from there.

I knew Hugh was going to be a defendant, which according to Ace Attorney rules means that he'd be falsely accused of murder. I needed to create a guy who was sympathetic, someone that you'd WANT to help prove his innocence.

What I did was reference existing characters from the games who fit similar archetypes and took a lot of design cues from them. I also referenced characters like Fukuo from Kiki's Delivery Service, who is a delightful himbo wifeguy that looks a little intimidating but is actually just kinda shy. And then I looked at actual photos of stage magician costumes for additional inspiration. THEN I go back to the source material to compare design details I want to add (ex, Hugh's high collar, his cuffs, the collar, the cape being turned into fringe on his jacket) and see if it already exists somewhere. No point in reinventing the wheel if I don't need to!

I wanted him to be like a "sexy magician's assistant", which I thought was a funny contrast to his restrained demeanor. He needed to be flashy, but not TOO flashy that he'd upstage Trucy. And additionally, since this is a game series where the characters are mostly seen from the waist up, I tried to keep his most interesting details in the top half of his design (but honestly in hindsight, I could have given him more. like Zak Gramarye's thigh-strap belt bag, perhaps).

Some other things I like to do when creating fan designs is to "roleplay" being the designers of the source material. If concept art is available, I reference that. I like to find the design quirks the character designers favor, and use them to make my own designs more convincing. If I'm designing something for, say, a european tv show that came out in 2005, I'd refer to the fashion and design tendencies that were most prevalent in the culture then, because that's what the actual character designers would have been most inspired by. But I'm not perfect, I'm gonna have the biases of an american lesbian living in 2025 no matter how hard I try LMAO

Hopefully I was able to answer your question!

[fishnapple]

How they proclaim their love for you

(lover/partner/future spouse)

This reading is about how the person you have in mind would proclaim their love for you. You can consider these as their mini love affirmations

Disclaimer : cheesy edition

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)

CUBE 1

• Let's take all our time in this world. There's no need to rush. Time? It might not even exist for us. We have escaped time.

• You sent an electric shock down to my core and I still find myself standing. Stronger than ever. Like a machine getting its fuel.

• Our language is of moonlight, fluttering wings, laughter of the stream, cloudy scents of flesh.

• Our lips kiss through the air with words.

• Actions speak louder and we are loud in our actions.

• My mind is spinning, soaring then diving, goes a hundred miles around then comes back, struggling to take you all in.

• This dark corner is our playground.

• I'm in hardworking mode when it comes to our connection. I have lofty goals. Let's work hard together.

• We look like kids when we're out into the outside world together. People ask whether we are friends? We are best friends, whether we are lovers? We are best lovers, whether we're having fun? Nothing is more fun and more serious.

• I have fears, but when I open my mouth, I don't let them escape. But you helped them get out. Is this a prison break for them or for me?

• My mind keeps going back and forth from past to future and you're there, in all of them.

CUBE 2

• Here, take my money. What's mine is yours.

• Do you know the plot where one character is thrown into a dire situation, and somehow, the other one character will come to their rescue. That's me, I'm the one rescued, by you.

• After winter is spring, time goes on, seasons change, I have you with me to witness that together.

• I've become greedy. Wanting to possess every minuscule expression of yours. If I would just freeze them in time.

• Do you see those wild beasts outside the window? And here we are, snuggle comfortably in our home, safely. The light of our home attracted those beasts, they're outside, cold and hungry. Our home will welcome them, but they won't be able to come in as their old shells. They will come in as happiness, transformed.

• I fall in love fast and then I keep it slow.

• I love giving you a bath, bubbling up your hair, seeing water running on your skin then later drying your hair for you and smelling the fresh shampoo scent. Aromatherapy at its finest.

• There's this need growing in me, and I can feel it growing in you too, we share some parts of ourselves with each other. This need is big, it's overwhelming, it makes my heart feel a tugging pain, it animates my body, giving me energy. It's the need to be, to stay alive, so that I can be together with you.

• I know all the right words yet feel like a fool with you.

• I imagine myself a parent, coming home to see our kids fighting, then I will act as a mediator, coming in to lecture them. I look forward to this scenario more than the promotions of my career. Biggest achievement.

• Thank you for letting me love you.

CUBE 3

• Loving you feels like second nature for me, something I've done so many times already, everything in me just do it automatically.

• We definitely have met before. Did we share past lives together? You look so familiar, like the ghost in my dreams, the daydreams in my head, the face of a character in those novels I read.

• My soul is a trapped pool, I would use my bare hand to scoop out all the dirt and monsters from it, take a cupful of water, boil it over and over again until it transparently pure, keep it warm or ice it the way you like then present it to you.

• I stand firm on this earth, confident that I have someone to come back to.

• Our hearth is the most sacred place to me. I would put offering before it, just like how people of bygone days worshipped at the god altar.

• I will keep it warm and nourishing for you.

• Never fear.

• Our lifetime together will blink by so fast, I'm already missing it. But have no fear, it won't end.

• We navigate this path so well that we're definitely professional travellers.

• Change of places, change of jobs? Doesn't matter, I can go along with everything, as long as there's no change of hearts.

• We've travelled from faraway lands to each other and we will continue to travel together.

• I wish you could read my mind and feel my heart, and I could do the same for yours, it would save a lot of time and misunderstanding.

• This is just the beginning.

CUBE 4

• I will tell you "I love you" everyday. Make that a checklist.

• If you and I went to the same school, you would be my high-school sweetheart, the one that I would secretly gush about in little notes, the one that I would absentmindedly draw a heart next to your name.

• Even if we were continents apart, I still feel you next to me, every waking moment and every sleepy dream.

• You fill my throat with sweet sweet love dripping down so much I feel like I can't breathe.

• I love you.

• I can't speak! Tongue tied. Unlock me. But then, if the door is open, I'm too shy to step out.

• In sickness and in health.

• I feel a part of myself went missing whenever you're not here.

• Your pain makes me bleed.

• This is new to me, I don't know what to do. Help me, teacher.

• I probably have a malfunction somewhere in the system to be acting like this. What have you done?

• You are love personified.

• Life has been good since you came to me. But it also has been exceptionally difficult for me to stay alone.

• I have imagined countless times how you would hold my younger self in your arms and feel soothed by them. I may not get to feel it in the past, but I will feel it now, for my past self, my present self and my future self.

[anniebeckcalla]

white chocolate and raspberries

sweet gestures with bf!nct dream

(bf!nctdream x reader) ◦ ₊ NOT PROOFREAD! ◦ ₊WC! 1.3K ◦ ₊ CW! fluff, fluff, fluffety fluff.

masterlist | cafe | click here!

ღNOTE FROM C. It's time we had some happiness after the gloom of the recent smaus. (I'll get back to them though, they're fun to write!) I hope you enjoy this post, if took me a while to write!

haechan

“Stop wriggling, will you?” You put the eyeliner wand on the bathroom sink, rinsing your hands for the nth time. “There's more liner on my fingers than on your eyes!” Haechan shrugged. “Sorry, baby. I could hardly keep still when you're staring into my eyes like that.” He placed his hands on your waist, drawing you close. “Can't say I'm complaining, though.” Frowning, you cupped his face in your hands, meaning to reprove him. In response, he gazed up at you wordlessly. His eyes sparkled with what could only be awe and reverence; the ghost of a smile lingered on his mouth. “Forget it,” you sighed. “I can't ever stay mad at you.” “I know,” Haechan whispered back, closing his eyes as you leaned in closer to kiss him.

jaemin

You took a deep breath as you bit into the toasted cheese panini, your eyes closing to fully appreciate the sensation. The crisp bread merged perfectly with the creamy cheese; the salted butter sparked little bursts of flavour around your mouth with each chew. It was nothing short of perfection.

‘Click!’

You opened your eyes, lowering your sandwich to see Jaemin across the table. He was holding his camera up, smiling as his finger snapped away. “Not while I'm eating!” you flushed, hand hovering over your mouth. “I look awful!” Jaemin lowered his camera. “Sorry, y/n. You looked so happy just then, I just had to capture it.” He looked down at the tiny camera screen. “You look so beautiful, even while you're eating.” “Stop praising me,” you mumbled. “I mean it, y/n. You look good doing anything.” Jaemin put his camera away, reaching across the table for your hand. “If I didn't control myself, all my albums would be full with pictures of you.”

jeno

The fields and trees passed by in a blur as the train snaked across the lines at full speed. You loved the window seat, and now you were sat in one, you wanted to gaze out of the window and appreciate the scenery. However, the day had tired you out. The darkening sky and warmth of the train made it hard to keep your eyes open. “You're quiet for once,” Jeno remarked, looking up from his phone. “Normally, you'd be telling me to stop scrolling and look out of the window with you.” You didn't have the strength to reply. Instead, you gave a low ‘mm hm’. “Woah, you're really tired,” Jeno said.

There was a short silence.

“Do you, er—do you want to use my shoulder as a pillow?” he spoke up, his face reddening slightly. “I mean, you don't have to—”

You didn't need to be asked twice. You let your head rest on his shoulder, letting sleep overwhelm your mind. Jeno didn't pick his phone back up. Instead, he put his arm around your shoulders, gazing down at you with love and infatuation.

jisung

“Ready to go now, y/n?” Jisung turned around when you heard you on the stairs. A smile lit up his face when your eyes met, and he took your hand as your feet reached the floor. “I haven't done too much with this outfit, have I?” you winced. “I mean, we're only going to a house party.” Jisung shook his head. “Not at all, love. It's perfect.” He raised your wrist to his nose, inhaling your perfume. “What did you use? It smells lovely.” “Oh, just a bit of ‘La vie en rose,’” you replied, your ears burning as shyness overwhelmed you. Jisung pressed his lips to your wrist, eyes closed. “I'm so glad I get to call you mine,” he whispered, tickling your wrist. “Me too,” you whispered back, breathless with delight.

mark

The elevator always took forever to get to your apartment floor. It was annoying most days, but this evening, it marked a peaceful end to the commotion of your day at work. “Thank goodness for that,” you sighed into the stillness of the elevator as it began its descent. “Today aged me by at least 80 years.” Mark was gazing at you in the elevator mirror. “No,” he replied. “You look absolutely beautiful.” He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. “We both look beautiful,” he whispered. He was right- you were both tired from the long day at work, and it had been a rough journey home, but you two still managed to look beauteous in the elevator mirror. “We complement each other perfectly, don't we?” you said, interlocking his hands with yours. “Too right we do,” Mark replied, pressing his lips on your cheek gently.

renjun

You were so deep in conversation with Renjun that you didn’t notice the bus coming to an stop, nor hear the voice of the person paying for their ticket. It was only when you felt eyes glaring at you from across the aisle that you finally turned your head to see your past in human form- your ex. He held your gaze, clearly enjoying how uncomfortabIe he still made you. “It's him, isn't it?” Renjun's voice was low as he took your hand in his, thumb caressing your knuckles. “Yes,” you whispered back, your breathing unsteady. “It's him.” “He won't hurt you, okay? I'm here,” Renjun said. “Don't even look at him. Just focus on me." You nodded, staring at his jumper. “Maybe we should walk the rest of the way,” you muttered. “Why should we?” Renjun replied. “We have more of a right to be here than he has.” You nodded, squeezing Renjun's hand in gratitude.

chenle

“Are you sure you're alright?” you shouted, fighting to be heard above the gale. You were protected from the rain by a flimsy umbrella that flapped about clumsily, but Chenle was exposed to the elements. He was drenched in rainwater, his shoes and clothes squelching with every step. The only part of him that stood a chance was his hand, that which he was using to hold the umbrella for you. “I'm fine, don't worry. There's only space for one under there,” he shouted back. You couldn't help staring at him in admiration. It was unfortunate about the rain, but he looked rather handsome with the rain running off his hair and face. His act of chivalry- letting you have the umbrella whilst holding it for you- made your heart beat an little faster. “I know this isn't a good time, but I love you,” you said. You almost thought he hadn't heard you, but then he turned to you, smiling. “I love you too,” he replied.

thank you for the comments and reblogs !! (　＾ω＾)

taglist: @cigsaftersuh @jenoleeaesthetic @pl4netx1a @jeonghansshitester @chenlezip @neodreamzenie @markkiatocafe @mejaemin (thank you so much everyone ღ)

[always-just-red]

I NEED some angst+comfort with Zayne PLEASE. It could be anything, the reader being run over in front of him, him being stressed about work and being mean to the reader... Literally anything

This was my first request, so thank you so much! I started this last night with a cup of tea and an "I'm sure I can manage some angst for Zayne, why not?" sort of attitude, and it culminated with me evil laughing to myself at 3am. Enjoy I guess? 😭

Reserved

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You've been looking forward to this dinner with Zayne for a week, but it seems he has other priorities.

Genre: angst, SO MUCH angst (but sshhhh... we save it with some comfort... 👀)

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, fluff, uses of y/n, reader is feeling neglected, Zayne gets a tiny bit mean

| Word count: 1.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Zayne… c’mon. Let’s go.”

You feel like a child, whining for what feels like the hundredth time in the last half hour, but you’ve little else left to do. You’re perched on Zayne’s desk, having long ago lost respect for the sanctity of his workspace, and you pout as you stare down at the phone in your palm. The screen is lit up by a reminder you’d set a week ago: Reservation. The Cerulean. 8 o’clock.

It’s 8:25, and you’ve snoozed it five times already— each time more pointedly than the last.

“Just a minute,” Zayne mumbles.

“You said that an hour ago!”

The man hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t look up from his computer. His face is bathed in the ghoulish light of the screen, his glasses shining as he dips his head— just a fraction— to glance at the paperwork spread before him. You give him his minute: let second after second tick by, though you mark each one with an idle tap on the desk’s cold surface.

A murmur: “Stop that, please.” His patience is thinning too.

You’re feeling petty, because you’ve been listening to the patter of his keyboard forever and it’s driving you insane. You purse your lips and tap louder. One second. Tap. Two seconds. Tap. Three. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Stop it.” Zayne’s hand catches yours, his grip soft, but his face stern.

And he still won’t look at you.

He releases your hand, and his dutiful fingers are back to their post, pattering away. With a huff, you come away from his desk, stalking past him to the window, where you fold your arms and study the barren street below. The view is obscured by the dark and the drops of rain that carve hazy trails down the glass. You can just about make out a couple, emerging from the hospital’s entrance. No uniforms. A patient and their other half, and they’re leaning on each-other— no— pushing each-other, competing for the cover of an umbrella that’s much too small. They’re laughing, you think.

Your chest aches.

“Zayne,” you press.

His chair rolls back, wheels harsh on the floor, and he’s standing, logging out of his computer with a final, few clacks. “I’m done,” he snaps, but his tone says otherwise. He tugs his coat from the back of his chair. “We can go.”

…

You sit on the edge of the wet pavement, rain seeping from your hair and soaking the fabric of your clothes. You should be cold, but you’re not. You’re nothing. Your eyes are cast downwards and all you see is grey, though it’s illuminated by an orange glow.

Behind you, light bleeds through the windows of a busy restaurant. Zayne is still in there, playing diplomat. Playing doctor: always trying to fix things.

Your phone buzzes, and you slip it from its home in your coat pocket. There’s a message: having fun? Then another: ur welcome, miss bodyguard.

Rafayel. He knows a guy who knows the guy who owns this place, so you’d called in a favour. You and Zayne had been drowning in work for a week: him, overwhelmed by new patients at the hospital, and you, out hunting the wanderers that had put them there. Linkon is getting worse. Everything is getting worse, and you just wanted one, single night for yourself.

Well, not just yourself.

The monotonous drum of the rain breaks to the creak of an opening door, but you don’t react. “Y/N?” Zayne sounds far away. “Where did you— Y/N!?”

Footsteps echo on the pavement behind you, splitting puddles, and the orange light is gone. You’re trapped by a shadow that’s talking, speaking your name, but you pretend you can’t hear it. Let him say it a hundred times. A thousand; you can wait.

“Just a minute,” you lilt, your voice dripping spite.

You’re going to sit here for an hour.

“Y/N…” The doctor is oh so patient. “Please get up. You’ll catch a cold if you—”

“Good!” you spit, rounding on him. “Then why don’t I check myself into the hospital? Maybe then you’ll actually think about me once in a while!”

Zayne is towering over you: a small, wet, pathetic little thing, but you still make him draw back. His virescent eyes are wide, his lips parted ever so slightly. He almost always knows what to say, but this is an exception.

After a long moment, he moves around you. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit at your side.

“Do you have any idea,” you start, staring out across the slick road, “how selfish you make me feel? How much I hate myself when I… when I ask you to…”

The confession catches in your throat. It hurts, but you force it out anyway:

“What you do is so important, Zayne. You’re saving lives. You’re giving people back to their families, their loved ones, and you’re amazing for that. I think you’re amazing for that. But I miss you. It feels like I have to share you with the rest of the world, and I know I have no right to ask it, but sometimes? Sometimes I just… want you to be mine.”

You’re looking down, now. Hugging your knees— burying your face, so he won’t see you cry. There’s rain and salt in your mouth, and you wish he would say something. Anything. 

You have to wait a few seconds, but then you feel it: something heavy being draped over your shoulders. His coat. Then his arm is around you, drawing you close, closer, until you’re nestled against his chest.

“You have every right to ask,” he soothes, his tone so warm when it’s compensating for the rest of him. “I am yours, Y/N. I will always be yours.”

“But your work—”

“Can wait,” he finishes for you. “I know I forget that sometimes. And I’m sorry. But you?”

He lifts your chin, gazing down at you with something you can only describe as adoration.

“There is nothing in this world more important to me than you.”

Your heart flutters at the words and the feathery touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away a tear. It’s futile in a downpour, but it still makes you smile. Rain is spattering on your forehead, some dripping from his now-soaked hair, and you laugh as he tries to dry your face with his sleeve.

“You’re important to me, too,” you manage between chuckles, “and I’m sorry, too.” Your cheeks are flushed, even in the cold. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“No.” A statement: not up for debate. Zayne untangles your limbs from his as he helps you stand. “We have a reservation.”

“We had a reservation. They gave away our table, Zayne.”

“Did they?”

There’s a hint of smugness. “Wait… what did you—”

He nods at the restaurant, and you follow his glistening gaze to where a waiter is holding the door— a menu clutched above his head, shielding him from the rain. He’s looking back at you. Waiting.

“Rafayel isn’t the only one with friends in high places,” Zayne smiles, leaning down to speak into your ear, and it makes you shiver. “The head chef is a friend of mine. I saved his brother’s life, you know.”

[eyra]

stuff what I have learnt about writing good

If you've followed me for longer than two minutes then you'll likely know (because I keep going on about it) that I've been working on a novel for the past year. It's always been a dream of mine to write and publish a book and whilst I still have a long way to go before I can even start thinking about querying (whether on this book, or the next, or the next, etc.) I suppose I can now say that a book Exists. I have written A Book.

Now whether or not that book ever sees the light of day, the process of writing it has been truly eye-opening. I went in knowing virtually nothing and came out, still with a huge amount to learn, but with a whole library of tools that I didn't have before. I'm now putting these to use with the first draft of my second book and already the process feels so much more enjoyable, because I've started to figure out how to make it work for me.

I wanted to jot down what I've learnt purely for my own reference so I can keep looking back and reminding myself what worked for me first time around, but given that I get a nice number of asks picking my brain about my own writing process, I thought I might as well share all this with you lot in case there's anyone out there who finds it useful!

So here are the big things that I've learnt so far...

1. Not every trick works for every writer

This has been, by far, my biggest learning. Starting to plan a novel for me felt SO overwhelming - I felt like I was bombarded on all sides with "this is how to write a novel" content, and it felt like there was just too much to learn and like I would never find my way through it. I spent weeks (months...) doing every worksheet, every outlining method, every chart, anything I could get my hands on. Some of them, by the end, proved themselves very useful. A lot of them didn't. There are thousands of voices online that are telling you "this is the right way to write a book" or even "this is the ONLY way to write a book" - don't listen to them. Try things, but don't feel like you have to fit yourself into every single box. Just find the things that work for you.

2. It's possible to overplan

On a related note - sometimes you just need to start writing. I spent WAY TOO LONG faffing about before I put pen to paper with my first book. So, so long planning out characters and plot points, a lot of which I then had to completely reimagine mid-draft because I realised they just didn't work anymore. In hindsight, some of this was down to me being scared to actually start writing - the planning stage was a bit of a comfort zone for me, despite not naturally being a plotter/architect - I have always always always been a pantser/gardener, but I got sucked into the whole "proper authors do it THIS way" narrative.

With my second novel, I did a nice amount of planning but then just bit the bullet and started drafting. I know where my story begins, ends, what my major themes are, I know all my main characters and I know my key plot points. The rest, I'm figuring out as I draft. If nothing else - I'm having a lot more fun this time around.

3. Think about voice and tense before drafting

Yeah duh obvious right? NOT TO ME. If you were following me around April time, you may have witnessed a series of minor breakdowns when I realised that, having written a whole first draft in third person present tense, the entire book should actually have been written in first person past tense. So that meant, basically, starting over from scratch. This was a big learning for me, and not a mistake I'm likely to make again.

4. Stop looking at your word count

For someone who's never really put much thought into word count before - my approach with fanfiction has already been "it'll be as long as it'll be" - I got OBSESSED with the word count of my first couple of drafts. A lot of people will tell you that any good novel "has to be" under 100k words. I constantly see this one post on Pinterest that says "I promise you that you can tell the story you want to tell in 100k words or under." I'm definitely no expert on this (and I'll eat my words when an agent tells me my manuscript needs cutting down), but I'm sceptical - a lot of stories can and should be under 100k words, sure, but most of my favourite books are much longer than this. However, I did get stuck in a "this manuscript has to be between 70k and 100k words" mindset and felt like a failure whenever it was sitting outside of that bracket. Also - keep your genre in mind. If you're writing a rom-com, 70k could work perfectly. If you're writing fantasy, you're probably going to go over that.

5. Know whether you're an overwriter or an underwriter

And related to the above - know whether you tend to write bare bones-style then add to it, or whether you tend to dump it all on the page then cut back later. I'm the first, and I knew this, but I still panicked when my first draft was only around 70k. I felt like it was rushing through the plot at an unreasonable pace and it didn't feel "finished". This was because it was a first draft. By the time I sent my manuscript to my beta reader, it was around 126k.

6. The dumb stuff works

The title of the document for my first draft was "XXX - worst possible version" and at multiple points during the drafting process I changed the font to Comic Sans size 48. It works. Completely takes the pressure off and gives you full permission to write big, write silly, write unhinged, write mad things that you'll cut back by 90% later. But it gets it all on the page. If you're stuck or cringing at yourself in Times New Roman size 12, try Comic Sans size 48.

7. Don't compare your first draft to your favourite book

Like an idiot, I did this. I still find myself doing it. It's possibly my worst writing habit. I'll type out a page at 11pm after a full day at work and no dinner and then I'll pick up a published book and think "ah man, the page I've just written is nowhere NEAR as good as this." Published books are fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh drafts that then go through months and months of editing. Do not compare your manuscript to a published book. Just don't do it.

8. Don't try to be That Author

Good writers are good readers. Absolutely read broadly, read deeply, just read. Fiction, non-fiction, poetry, everything. And it's fine to find yourself influenced by other writers - that's how writing works. But don't try to BE other writers. One of the issues I had to unpick last year was that I was reading a lot of authors whose writing styles are very different to my own. I know my own style fairly well by this point - fanfiction's a great sandbox for figuring that out - but at certain moments during my editing phases I found myself cutting away at my prose because it felt "too different" to the books I was reading at the time. This was a weird thing for me to have done, and I went back and fixed it later.

I think what I'm trying to say with this one is: take inspiration from everywhere, let yourself be influenced by different writing styles, but find your own voice and trust it. Literature already has a Sally Rooney and a Donna Tartt and a Leigh Bardugo. It doesn't need a clone - it needs you!

I'll finish by sharing what I've found to be the most useful plotting template. This obviously isn't the total extent of my planning process by any means, but after trying about a million different plotting techniques for my first manuscript, this is the one:

The 27 chapter method (more examples here)

And finally, two little character tricks that I find invaluable:

AITAH?

Character philosophy

I hope someone out there finds something useful in this post! Although I've been writing in some capacity since I was a teenager, 2024 was definitely the year I realised that I am a writer at my core. I want to be a published author, but I'm already a writer. It brings me happiness like nothing else in the world! And I love to talk about all aspects of writing, so my ask box is always very much open.

Happy scribbling! x

[cuntboyprincess]

Camping with my uncle 2

He stopped for a second. Then said :"Don't you want me to do this? If you don't I will stop immediately...." I tried to gather myself. My clit was twitching in between his fingers. And I felt his hardned dick pressing in my back. I was so ashamed of myself, because I wanted it. I wanted it so bad. I blushed and said "I want it..." He stroked my whole body now, his voice turns shaky again "Can I fuck you? I have no condoms here but I'm neutered and can't make you pregnant" My whole body was burning. I never had raw sex, I always used condoms. I was so turned on by the thought of my uncle being the first one. And how this would turn into our dirty little secret. "Please, just take me. I want you in me", I finally said it. I closed my eyes and avoided looking into his eyes. He grabbed me by my shoulders and turned me around, facing him. He smirked for a second, then kissed me. And at that time it didn't feel weird to kiss him and make out with him. His touch felt so arousing, he squeezed me and stroked my curved, he held me. And I was soaking wet. After a couple minutes of making out I suddenly felt him entering me. He was thick, but I was aroused enough for it to slip in easily. It felt like a fever dream. Waves of pleasure went through my body, I embraced him and opened my legs a little more for him. Since he's overweight it was a little difficult for him and he started sweating a lot. His sweat dripping down on me. I felt so dirty. I had no idea how to feel, perhaps I felt nothing in that moment except 95% sexual pleasure. Yeah, well he fucked me, long and good. I was riding him. We fucked like animals. It was literally so hot and the best sex I ever had. He came inside me 2 times and at the end we were so exhausted, we fell asleep instantly lying in each others arms, and we were still connected down there. It was so weird waking up in the morning. Disgust, guilt and the feeling of being dirty overwhelmed me. I felt to much guilt towards my aunt. I felt horrible. I cleaned my pussy and took on some clothing after waking up. My uncle behaved very weird, too. He woke up and acted as if nothing happened. He grabbed a beer and then we went back home. It was a 3 hours drive. But we didn't speak to each other. It felt very awkward. As we arrived back at his home, I couldn't look my aunt in the face, I felt awful. My uncle said it was an amazing trip, he had a lot of fun and he would definitely do it again. It took me a lot of strength to pretend I had fun and everything was okay. And my aunt asked me if I was sleeping downstairs or upstairs. When I said up, she said "But wasn't your uncle too big for the other bed?" and I was too ashamed to admit we were sleeping in the same bed. I got back home to my place and it took me several days to let it sink in. I masturbate daily to these memories. It was such a hot, forbidden, morally wrong and very good sex 🥵 I'm so afraid of the future, since this happened now and we all know we can't keep secrets for ever. I would die if anybody found that out....

[xiisblogs]

Longing -The fall of the leaves and the dormancy of an apple

/ˈlɒŋɪŋ/

a yearning desire divider: author1 |Read this, or don't complain

Loving you is easy, it's leaving you that's hard. "Keep loving him." "Or don't." "It's your life" [AS]

🍎 ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍃

From: Non-MC

To: Caleb

I wonder if it's Autumn when you find this letter. I hope it is.

It's when apple trees transition to a period of dormancy and leaves fall. :)

When you find this letter, it means I'm gone from your life. Be past, present, or future.

I hope you're living the life you deserve. Perhaps fulfilled, or not.

You don't even remember me now. You must be wondering, who even is Non-MC.

I'm the person who cared and kissed your wounds.

I'm sorry for the lives we lead and kept leading until a (long) while ago.

I thrived in delusion, while you bathed in obsession.

With this, I, in no means, want you to remember me, or what we used to be. This is just a closure for something that should have never started.

So, I forgive you and myself for our past behaviors. May the weight on your shoulders lessen.

P.S go to the apple tree in your secret spot for a fading gift

🍎 ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍃

His brows furrow. This must be a prank.. but the postscrip at the bottom of the letter makes him think otherwise.

Nobody knows about the apple tree in his secret spot. Not even MC.. doubt creeps in him.

Something akin to a memory flashes in his head.

A person is talking as they puts the seeds of the apple tree in the soil, their voice blurry and the sounds around them even more.

'It's not possible', he put the seeds in there and no one was with him at that time..

A stinging sensation makes him dizzy. He'll go to the tree to find out, 'this must be a sick joke'..

🍎 ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍃

At the apple tree, in his secret spot, the blurry voice appears again, this time more clear.

"Don't squash the soil like that!"

"Greenie come on, nothing will happen", a stunned expression forms on his face, that's his voice, but younger.

The flashes are fast and too clear.

He sees himself and that person joke and have fun. Cry and hurt each other. So much, yet nothing he remembers happens in front of his eyes and by the end of it, Caleb's knees touch the ground and so his tears.

He tries to remember, who's that person and why are his memories so deeply altered. Was it because of the chip? No, it's impossible. He saved all the memories with the most important people in his life. Granny and MC. So, who is Non-MC.

"I hate you"

"and so do I"

"why would you chose her over me!?"

Silence fills his head. Why did they fight? What happened after that?

Ah, he remembers.

He chose MC over Non-MC again, then they fought and Non-MC swore to disappear from his life.

He didn't believe it, or, he chose to not believe your words. A mistake.

The memories blurr again and a sob leaves his mouth.

'no, no, no, NO', he didn't want to forget you again. Where were you?

As the question echos in his head, dizziness overtakes and his eyes shut.

🍎 ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍃

'why am I here', Caleb wonders as he slowly gets up, it's night.. he doesn't even remember walking here. Perhaps he just felt overwhelmed.

Some questions pop in his head..

But he shakes them off.

He gets up, his steps rigid as he walks away from the apple tree.

A name is engraved at the bottom of the tree. 'Non-MC was here ;)'

[alllgator-blood]

Disappeared for a bit but I'm still here, I just got overwhelmed and learned I should probably take this blog less seriously

I'm using the new year as an excuse to come back on here and try to not ditch my account for another 6 months-- I'm NOT good at posting stuff online to a crowd of more than like 5-20 followers, I originally wrote a huge long-winded draft describing all of my thoughts in great detail. It was too long. I guess all I want people to know is I'm somebody who's spent years making art that I knew nobody will ever see, so it's incredible and overwhelming to have thousands of eyes on my art all of a sudden? It's both the coolest thing and the scariest thing ever to me simultaneously, I'm by no means a Popular Artist but I went from virtually no interaction for years to suddenly tens of thousands of cumulative notes on my posts so it's huge for me. And I haven't adjusted super well to it, entirely due to my own shitty brain chemistry.

I don't want anyone to feel like I'm ignoring their messages or like I don't appreciate the fact they go out of their way to give me their thoughts/send me ideas, genuinely this is the most support I've *ever* had for my art and it's so so fucking cool. It's led me to create so much more than I thought possible! I used to run ask blogs for a couple very niche video game fandoms, and I prided myself on being able to draw full comics for EVERY ask I got, answer EVERY message and went into this blog assuming I could still do that. Um....safe to say I cannot....I have like 200+ asks and I think I drafted a dozen or more that I answered but felt my art was too low effort. I felt so bad I couldn't put maximum effort into everything, and I've been beating myself up over it to a point where *no* asks are getting answered, and this blog went from a really fun thing I actually woke up early just to check on, to something I wanted to avoid like the plague for the past week out of guilt. DUE TO NOBODY'S FAULT BUT MY OWN, everyone has been so chill when I've had to take breaks so idk why I feel the need to hold myself hostage.

So I'm gonna try and take it easier, give myself a break when my personal life goes horribly, close my ask box periodically if I feel overwhelmed, maybe hop on here like once or twice a day rather than compulsively refreshing every 5 minutes...I hope that makes things better. I realize I should probably just *do* that without announcing it, but I have no self discipline and unless I announce I'm gonna do something, it's not gonna fuckin happen lmao.

Anyway if you read this far, here's the first panel of a sequel comic I made to the christmas one I posted last time I was on here, this one is *very* representative of my mindset the last week and will hopefully not reflect how I feel now that I survived december. I know for a fact there's mentions I haven't gotten to check yet so I'm gonna do that after laying down for a bit, here's to a chill 2025 where my social anxiety doesn't eat me alive

[mattsturnioloz]

Then I lost you.

Part 2.

Summary: Matt's career as a youtuber takes a toll on his 4 year relationship with his girlfriend, putting it on hold. Will it ever be the same again?

Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Warnings: angst, mentions of anxiety, unresolved angst (maybe)

A/N: (guys this is my first fic so please bear with me😭 l would love some feedback or tips though!!)

I was sitting on the couch scrolling through my phone and channel surfing, waiting for my boyfriend, Matt, to get back from filming a car video with his brothers, Chris and Nick. But over the course of the last couple of months, Matt has been distant and there was a rather uncomfortable feeling sitting in my chest. He would make up excuses as to why he couldn't hang out with me like he was filming, editing or streaming. It made me overthink. Did I do something? Does he still love- No, of course he still loves me. Right?

It was all too much and it gave me anxiety. Sure, I understand his career as a Youtuber can be a handful but I can't help but feel a bit neglected and it makes me feel guilty.. I sit there thinking for a moment, taking in the cool autumn smell that roamed through the house, listening to the patter of the soft rain drops falling onto the windows, trying to think of a way that I could get Matt to spend time with me.

I decide to cook a nice dinner for matt and I or at least attempt to, so I stand up and I head to the kitchen and decide on some ravioli which takes me about an hour but I did it.

Flashback

"What are you gonna get to eat?" | asked Matt.

"I'm not sure.. you know for a fancy restaurant, you'd think they'd have a variety of options." He says before raising his eyebrow at me, showing me the menu and we both chuckle.

"Our first date and i'm already messing up huh?" He says with a nervous chuckle.

"What?? No! you're not messing up i'm having fun." I said with a smile, reaching over the table to hold his hand and he gave me a lighthearted smile.

"Ravioli is the only decent thing they got here, think i'll go with that." He says closing the menu. "See? It's not all that bad, I just so happen to love ravioli. I think I can go for some too.” I smile.

Present

I set up the table with bowls and utensils before making my way to the bathroom and realize that look a bummy mess so l spend the rest of the time I had left before he got back to make myself look at least a little presentable. I feel an overwhelming but nice sense of excitement to spend time with him again. I change into a casual but nice outfit and decide to do a simple and natural makeup look.

I soon hear the sound of the front door opening and chattering following behind it. I make my way out of the room to greet Matt who was laughing with chris and nick.

"Hey baby! How was filming??" | say almost too enthusiastically but I was too excited to keep my cool. "It was alright." He says nonchalantly, which makes me turn my happy demeanor down a notch.

Chris goes downstairs to get ready for something and Nick goes upstairs to do the same. Leaving matt and I alone which was perfect so I take the chance.

"I made-" before I could say anything Matt interrupted me. "Hey, me nick and chris are gonna go to top golf with madi, and nate so I might be home a little late." My heart sinks and i'm flushed with dread but I don't give up so easily.

"Well I actually made dinner for us.. I was hoping we could spend a little time together since we haven't in a while." | say fiddling with my necklace getting a bit anxious.

"I'm sure it's amazing baby but I should go get ready, Save me some yeah?" He says, placing a gentle kiss on my temple before he walks towards our shared bedroom to get ready.

I sit at the table where our food is now cold and I feel a lump in my throat followed by a cold sinking feeling in my chest.

658 words.

A/N: (This is sloppy and I kind of hate it, js wanted to try this out to see what yall think. if you guys like it, i'll keep writing, if not then im never writing again and since it's my first fic I kept it short but if you guys like it, i'll make the next parts longer 🫶🏼)

Taglist: @h3arts4harry @star-yawnznn @imwetforyourmom

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || You Fidget A Lot

PAIRING: Skz X GN!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN:

In the crowded room of a bustling party, you find yourself feeling completely overwhelmed. You'd agreed to come to the party with your boyfriend who knew everyone and you were now alone in the corner. You felt so unwanted and you began to pick at your fingers, trying to blend into the background but the room felt so suffocating to be in. The noise of the music was deafening and only added to the torment going on in your mind.

From across the room, Chan spotted you in distress instantly, he'd been trying to get back to you for a while now but his friends were talking his ear off but seeing you so anxious he just walked away from them.

"Hey, you're okay, I got you," Chan whispered as he wrapped his arms around you, your whole body turning into his embrace and buried your face in his chest.

"I'm sorry," You hated yourself for ruining tonight for him

"Don't be, let's go outside for some air," He suggested as he started to walk with you, tears running down your cheek as he rubbed small circles into your back.

Once you were outside and away from the chaos of the party you finally felt as though you could breathe again.

"You can go back in...I'll catch a cab home or something," You mumbled but Chan pulled you tighter against him, rubbing soothing circles into your back,

"We'll go home together, you're anxious and I want to be here for you," He told you as he kept you close to him. The overwhelming anxiety began to ebb away and was replaced by a feeling of calm and security.

MINHO:

"Hey jitterbug," Minho teased watched you, the two of you were having a date in a cafe only you hadn't known it was going to be this busy when you agreed to come. Now you were so anxious that you were drumming your fingers on the table as well as your leg bouncing.

"What's got you so wound up?" He teased, reaching across to poke your hand gently, you smiled a little at him.

"Just anxious I guess," You mumbled. You hadn't gone into much detail with Minho about your anxiety, you were nervous about it since many people had called you dramatic in the past or had made fun of you for it.

"Relax, it's just some coffee. Nothing to be nervous about, I promise." He said but as he studied you more closely he began to notice the tension in your shoulders and the way you picked at your sleeve, the teasing grin he had once been wearing suddenly wiped from his face.

"Are you okay?" His voice was softer now and laced with genuine worry.

"I'm trying to be, but...I-It's just-" You didn't even have to finish your sentence before Minho was sitting beside you and wrapping his arm around you.

"I'm sorry...I didn't realise," He knew anxiety when he saw it, his best friend struggled with it too.

"You don't have to hide it from me. I'm here for you, no matter what." Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at him, no one had ever been there for you like this and you were so grateful to have someone who accepted it.

"Thanks, I'm sorry I'm so fidgety, I just...I can't seem to calm myself down." You admitted, Minho squeezed you softly giving you a reassuring smile.

"Then allow me to help, okay?" You nodded at him, watching as he began to take in some deep breaths, making you copy him.

"It's just me and you right now, and if anyone else comes along I'll fight," He winks at you and you giggle a little through your deep breathing.

"You're allowed to feel anxious, so long as you know I'm here to support you through it, okay?" He waited for you to nod before he continued breathing with you, getting you to focus on him or things outside of the window instead of what was happening in the cafe. 

The longer you sat there you felt a weight lifting from your shoulders as you relaxed into Minhos' embrace, knowing that with him by your side you could do anything.

CHANGBIN:

Your fingers twisted in your lap as you glanced around nervously, staring at all of the different passengers on the plane who didn't seem fazed by the turbulence the plane was experiencing.

"Yn," Changbin whispered, his hand reaching out to yours. You forced a tight smile onto your lips as you focused on looking out of the window. You hadn't mentioned it to him before but you were extremely nervous about planes. But they set off your anxiety more than anything else.

"We're okay. It's just a bit of wind," He promised as he turned your head to look at him, squeezing your hand reassuringly and offering you a comforting smile.

"It's alright to be anxious but as long as you know you're not alone in it." He smiled bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

"I'm right here beside you." He told you as he smiled, Changbin was your little glimmer of hope that everything was okay. You always thought that with him you could do anything. 

"You're doing great, just focus on your breathing and remember I'm here with you," He whispered in your ear, your eyes shutting as you tried to focus on breathing and the way his hand felt in yours.

As the flight continued Changbin never left your side, offering you constant comfort and support, even distracting you with stories and jokes, doing everything in his power to ease your anxiety just that little bit more until the plane finally touched down. 

"I couldn't have done that without you," You breathed out as you finally got into the airport, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he promised to do that for you whenever you needed it.

HYUNJIN:

You were sat in one of the fanciest restaurants you'd ever been in, at an elegant dinner table with Hyunjin's parents and you couldn't stop your leg from bouncing up and down, a clear sign that your anxiety was getting the better of you. Hyunjin waited until his parents were talking among themselves before he turned his full attention to you, he placed his hand on your knee giving it a small squeeze.

"Is this all too much?" He whispered, he knew you'd been anxious about the dinner but you promised him you'd be okay. Now all he wanted to do was take you home and comfort you all night.

"I'm sorry...I-I just- I feel anxious," You admitted, your stomach twisted as you looked at him. Without hesitating he leaned closer to you, holding your hands in his.

"You're doing great, okay? Just take some deep breaths with me," You nodded, your shoulders sagging a little with relief from his words. You took in some deep and steady breaths at the same time as Hyunjin and he smiled gently applying a steady pressure to your leg to calm your nerves. Hyunjin's parents glanced over at you both,

"Yn, Hyunjin, we're both so happy you're here. Let's relax and enjoy the evening." His mother suggested, Hyunjin had briefly mentioned your anxiety to her and they wanted you to have a nice evening.

Hyunjin's attention was still on you as he whispered words of encouragement, silently letting you know he was there for you now and always. 

As the night grew on, your fidgeting gradually subsided, replaced with a sense of calm and happiness as you got to know your boyfriend's family more.

JISUNG:

Jisung watched you as you nervously tapped your foot on the floor, bounced your leg up and down and even started to pick at your clothes. The two of you were sitting in your living room together trying to unwind from the day but he could clearly see your anxiety was playing up.

"You anxiety acting up, again?" He asked gently, reaching out and gently rubbing your back. You nodded, your eyes downcast as you bit on your lip.

"It's been a rough day and I can't seem to calm down." You admitted before Jisung gently squeezed your shoulder got up from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a bag.

"I am prepared this time," He smirked, a hint of excitement in his voice as he dropped down beside you on the bed. You took the bag he was holding out to you and peeked inside, your mouth turning up into a small smile.

"You did this?" You smiled looking at him before looking back into the bag. It was an assortment of fidget toys, stress balls, a spinner ring, a textured cube and so many more things,

"I figured they'd be better to fidget with," He smiled seeing you so happy about everything, he'd been looking online for the best toys and collected them all for you.

"Thank you," You sniffled a little, taking out one of the stress balls and squeezing it tightly in your hand,

"You always know how to take care of me," Your voice broke a little and Jisung pulled you into a gentle hug,

"I love you, and I'll do anything I can to support you." He smiled as the two of you sat there in the comfort of your living room while you explored all of your new fidget toys.

FELIX:

Felix poured you a cup of tea and then watched you closely. The two of you were at your favourite cafe together and it had been a while since the two of you had gone out which was why Felix had planned this. But he knew there was something bothering you, you'd been overly cautious of everything that morning and even now, your eyes were darting around the room as if you were looking for an escape and he instantly knew what was going on. You were nervously picking at the skin around your fingers, your brows furrowed together,

"Yn, you're okay," He whispered. Your fingers froze mid-motion and you forced a smile onto your face,

"I-I'm fine, just a little anxious." You admitted, Felix shuffled to be on the seat beside you, gently covering your hand with his own.

"You don't have to hide it from me, Yn. I know you're struggling but I'm right here," He whispered to you, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at him. Everyone in the past has merely teased you for fidgeting a lot or made rude comments about it.

"I-It's just, my anxiety...it gets the better of me sometimes and I can't stop picking at my fingers," Felix's heart ached at the sight of your distress, he knew your struggles and all he wanted to do was help you.

"We're in this together, we're okay." He promised you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to him.

"We're at our favourite place, drinking our favourite drinks and relaxing." He smiled at you, your head resting on his shoulder as you felt your heart rate slowing down. Felix took in some deep breaths with you and you slowly felt the tightness in your chest gradually loosen.

"Thanks, Lix," You whispered, but he shook his head at you, he didn't need you to thank him for doing something he wanted to do.

"I love you, Yn, and I'll always be here to hold your hand, no matter what." He told you before you kissed him softly.

SEUNGMIN:

This was supposed to be a casual night in with friends and yet you found yourself fidgeting beside your boyfriend, your fingers drumming nervously on your thigh and then adjusting the sleeves of your sweating.

"You can't ever sit still, can you?" Felix meant it as a joke but the way his tone came out it sounded as though he was annoyed at you. Seungmin's eyes dated to his friend as he felt a surge of anger rising in him. He took in a deep breath trying to keep his composure, shooting Felix a warning glare.

"It's okay," Seungmin whispers to you as he places his hand over yours carefully and rubs your skin softly.

"You're safe here and Felix was just teasing, you know how he is." He whispered to you, Felix's face flushed a little as he realised what was happening and he instantly wanted to kick himself.

"Yn, I'm so sorry."

"It's not as if Felix doesn't have weird habits," Chan chimed in with a smirk,

"We all have our quirks, nothing wrong with that." Seungmin finished as he wrapped his arm around you, cuddling into you tightly.

"I've got you," He reassured you, your shoulders relaxing a little as you felt a little of your anxiety lift ever so slightly. For the rest of the evening, Seungmin kept a close eye on you, watching for any signs of fidgeting so he could take you home if it got too bad.

JEONGIN:

Jeongin watched you closely, you were fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, your fingers twisted the fabric in small, nervous movements. The two of you had gone out for a small walk together and were taking a break on the park bench. 

"Hey, baby, is everything alright?" His voice was laced with concern as he stared at you. You looked at him, your eyes quickly darting around before finally meeting his gaze. You smiled a little but he knew it wasn't a real smile.

"Fine...Just feeling a little anxious I guess," You hated that you were feeling so anxious, you'd gone on this walk a million times with Jeongin but there was something about today that made you a little more anxious than usual.

Jeongin nodded, moving closer to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, he knew about your struggle with anxiety and he wasn't going to let you go through this alone.

"You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever Is bothering you, I'm here for you." You leaned into his embrace, your hands stilling as you relaxed against him.

"Everything feels overwhelming right now, I can't even keep up with my own thoughts," You mumbled, and Jeongin tightened his grasp around you.

"I get it. But remember, you don't have to face it alone. I'm here to help you carry the weight, even if it's just by listening to you." You smiled up at him, a small sigh leaving your lips as you relaxed against him. 

"I don't know what I'd do without you." You snuggled into him and with each passing moment your breathing steadied and your anxiety loosened its grip on you.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @xakx @sleepb @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred @b1nn1e-1s-cut3 @parkjennykim

[karkkidoesartsandcrafts]

I made a doll

After making historical doll clothing, I got this idea that what if I made a doll myself. I was coveting a doll I could sew clothes for and then pose them for the clothing, but I don't really like that much of any of the design of commercial posable dolls and I'm broke so I can't in good conscience buy an artisan ball jointed doll (and I anyway don't like how thin most of them are). So I did the reasonable thing - I bought very cheep air dry clay (I do have "normal" clay but I don't have access to ceramic oven and it takes much longer to dry it and burn it etc, and I was literally just trying this out) and just started making it myself. I didn't plan ahead because it felt very overwhelming since I have never customized dolls beyond making them clothing and repainting their faces nor have I ever even owned a ball jointed doll. I went with the learning through mistakes rather than theory. The route I most often take. So just bear with me (real doll makers I'm sorry for the cringe).

Without further ado, here's Aune, my vampire OC (from my wip Be All My Sins).

I wanted to make her look like a porcelain doll, because I love their aesthetics. I did lean towards more realism than they were historically like though. Here's all her body parts before painting. (Some of the pieces in the picture are not actually fully smoothed and sanded, but it is right before I started painting the face. My brain just works in a way, where I jump around between the working stages. I'm very much incapable of doing anything organized and straight forwardly.) I have been wanting to do clay sculpting for a long time (it was so fun, when I was a kid in afternoon art school), and this was small scale enough to be manageable so it was so much fun. I will be definitely making more.

Here's her face before and after the paint. I'm quite happy on how the face sculpt turned out, but the paint job was a bit messy. As I mentioned I have done couple of repaints of doll faces, but I'm still not very good at it. When I paint traditionally I'm not often this detail oriented and painting on a 3D surface feels very different.

Here she is before and after getting her hair. I made her hair from wool yarn just by unraveling the yarn. It's the first time I made doll hair and I didn't want to buy proper doll hair for this or learn to curl it (I don't even have any curling irons or literally any other hair shaping appliances than a hair dryer, which I don't even use for my hair but for painting with water colors). It doesn't fall down nicely, but it has roughly the look I was going for.

Because I didn't plan at all ahead, the proportions are a little wonky (her arms especially are too thin imo and he legs could have a little more shape too) and the joints are not great. Worst of the joints was the hips, which attach to the torso in a weird way. The biggest issue that I had was not taking into account how much the varnish would add to the size. It's not a visible amount, but enough to make fit of the joints very poor and basically making it very hard for her to stand. (Her index fingers already broke of when she fell from my desk after I had made her stand there djfkjds. I was able to glue them back.)

Here's couple more picture of her!

It's not perfect at all, but I do still love her if only because it's such a cool feeling to be able to just have a lump of clay and two weeks later have a posable doll. It somehow feels magical to be just able to make a real physical thing from scratch.

[jmdbjk]

I have some fun news.

I am going to NYC to see Jimin's The Truth Untold Exhibition!!!! I'm so glad I bought tickets before it SOLD OUT! It is not sold out, only the early bird tickets are sold out. Regular price tickets are still available.

But see? That's how misinformation is spread, when one person on X screams it's sold out and random people (me, I'm random people) scroll through and see the post and run with it.... (rolls eyes).

ANYWAY...

I need to see Jimin's outfits in real life. I need to see the size and shape of that man up close and personal. I won't ever dream that I'd ever get to actually see Jimin in the flesh within touching distance but I will see his actual clothing within inches of myself and that's almost the next best thing.

I am going in June the week after the four are discharged, the tickets I bought are for June 21, the day Yoongi is released from his social service.

If there is a group live from the Hybe building lounge room couch while I'm in that exhibit I will scream with everyone else. My family will be traumatized but oh well, right?

It'll be a day to remember.

And... I discovered AFTER THE FACT that we booked our hotel right in the middle of Koreatown. I HAD NO IDEA until I started to look for restaurants and guess what? Antoya is 2 blocks from my hotel. I will take pictures. Not sure if we'll go eat there but who knows. We'll try.

[Yes, I used that potato quality, non-official pic.]

Of course I'll blog about the trip when I get back.

But WE HAVE SO MUCH TO ACCOMPLISH BEFORE THEN!!!

Jin's Echo album and subsequent tour!

FESTA!!! CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THE SCHEDULE!!!!

AND THE FREEDOM OF OUR SEVEN!!!! HOW WILL IT UNFOLD??? WHO WILL MEET WHO AT THE GATES??? I CAN'T WAIT!! I'M GONNA CRY, LOSE SLEEP, CRY SOME MORE!!!

Hobi wrapping up HOS tour and the HOS Final in Seoul ON FESTA DAY! And ANOTHER new song at some point!

The timing of Hobi's HOS Final concerts has been known for a long time. Securing that stadium for those dates had to be planned well ahead. I will be watching the livestream of both nights.

There is no way we will not see the freshly discharged members in some way, they will be there, in the audience or on stage or at the very least in photos from backstage. They will be there. Why wouldn't they? The timing was timed as if the Universe said "let it be so."

As far as performing, I won't wish too hard for it but they might?! The timing of these shows is just giving so much potential for anything to happen!

In a blog post on July 2, 2024, I said they would hit the ground running. Look at Jin and Hobi since.

They aren't going to "rest" after discharge. If you think that, you clearly have not been paying attention to what they've been saying for the past 3 years.

They've looked forward to all of this for YEARS, "this" meaning "this time of post-military enlistment" where nothing is in the way of their artistic freedom and living their lives the way they wish. It was such an ordeal to get to this point in time, years of delays, they are not going to sit around and let more time pass before they get back on stage.

Successful people are DRIVEN. They are ready to hit the ground running.

I am overwhelmed knowing in less than five weeks 6 out of 7 will be free. I don't want to get my hopes up but I feel strongly that at the very very least, a 7-member group photo will be shared at some point during those few days of total chaos.

I will watch the livestream of Jin's concert, but as of this moment, I am not going to go see him. Never say never though,right? But after watching his concert livestream, I might change my mind. We'll see. I reserve the right to book a last minute trip (its the way I roll anyway). I am very excited for his album next week!

This is going to be an unpopular opinion with some: Anyone who knows me knows I support all of them, right? But I gotta be real here. The AMAs are the American Music Awards. Jimin's Who went furthest over here than any of the others this past year. The no-brainer to me is to vote for Jimin for this particular award. I have to weigh the circumstances and the numbers.

The context was not taken into consideration in this case and now the votes are going to be split.

We need to be smarter and stop being driven by emotions when there clearly were numbers to show how big Who was in the U.S. this past year.

The drama and fighting was unnecessary. RPWP and Come Back to Me have won so many critical awards – real, peer reviewed and film industry awards – that trying to "give" Namjoon this AMA award just seems very manipulative.

Don't get me wrong, if Namjoon wins this I WILL BE ECSTATIC that Army actually pulled it off. But I will also be surprised if he wins because I know the votes are split between he and Jimin. I'm afraid it will be a sad situation of self-sabotage and the BP girl is going to win because of that.

In other instances, if I am faced with choosing between Jimin and any of the others... Jimin is my man y'all. It is what it is.

Regarding fans who also went on hiatus: Let the fans who took a break come back without criticizing them. Let the casual fans be casual. Just because they weren't obsessed with social media these past few years does not make them "less" of a fan or unimportant. There will always be someone doing something "more" than you in some aspect so just shut up and let them come back and get off your high horse of self-importance.

I do not sustain a constant social media presence but I'm here with my face in the BTS business every single day. I know what is going on to obsessive levels.

I also have a life, a job, family, etc that I must pay attention to as well. But in my down time, everything BTS is what I'm obsessed with. You just don't see me needlessly posting about myself doing it 24/7.

Let. Them. Be. The world needs BTS, let the world come as they are, casual, hardcore, baby Army, OG Army, everyone come to the BTS table and feast! No one has a right to gate keep the 7.

Every day that comes keeps getting brighter and brighter knowing our 7 will be back together NEXT MONTH! 30 days left for Jimin and Jungkook, 40 for Yoongi, 29 for Namjoon and Tae.