#i got really into the chapter about hope and alyssa

[wosoimagines]

Sweet Sixteen

part 2 of rivals one-shots

Jo's sixteenth birthday happens during camp.

1,437 words

set in between chapter 3 and 4 of rivals.

“Dude! It’s your birthday?” 

I raised my eyes from where I was focused on my breakfast to meet Pinoe’s eyes. Everyone had turned to look at her as I froze. It didn’t take long for everyone’s eyes to turn to me. I shrunk in my seat a bit at the number of eyes that were focused on me now. 

“It’s your birthday?” 

My eyes met Becky at the question that was repeated softer. I sucked in a breath but slowly nodded. 

“Is that a problem?” 

“You didn’t tell us it was your birthday,” Becky said. I shrugged at that. Honestly, I wasn’t used to it being celebrated. “We would have got you something.” 

“You don’t have to,” I said with a shake of my head. 

“You don’t want anything for your birthday?” 

Alyssa was the one who spoke up this time. I shrugged at that. There wasn’t much that I really needed. 

“I’m getting a new pair of shoes when I get home. Well, new cleats anyways.” 

I didn’t miss the looks being shared between my teammates. 

“What do you want?” Pinoe asked. 

I was at a loss with that. I didn’t really know what they wanted me to say. I was used to just getting new soccer gear from my family. At least I got to pick out exactly what they got me. 

“How should I know? I usually get new socks and cleats and shin guards and a new ball.” 

The room went silent again. 

“Your family just gets you soccer stuff?” 

I nodded my head at Christie’s question. I tilted my head as the captain clenched her jaw, and I could see the anger that sometimes flickered in her eyes on the field suddenly set in her eyes now. 

“It’s a free day today,” Becky said, drawing my attention back to her. “You can make a list of things you’d like, and we can go shopping for birthday presents.” 

“No,” I shook my head, “That’s too much.” 

“Nah, it’s easy,” Sydney said as she suddenly sat next to me with a pen and piece of paper. “You just write down what you like to do, and we’ll go get you presents that relate to that.” 

I huffed at that. They didn’t get it. 

“Soccer is what I like to do.” 

The whole room froze. 

“If I’m not in school, then it’s soccer.” 

“What do you do besides that?” 

“I don’t. I go to school and I practice and we watch football at home. We don’t do much more than that. We go to the lake during the summer where we swim and we ski. But I don’t do anything else. I can’t do much anything else besides soccer because soccer is how I’m going to make money. And I need to be the best at soccer so that’s what I do outside of school.” 

I refused to meet anyone’s eyes at the admission. I knew it wasn’t entirely normal, but I loved soccer, so I was okay with it. 

“Okay, we’re taking you out, and if you find anything that interests you, we’re buying it for you,” Alyssa spoke up across from me. “And it won’t have anything to do with soccer.” 

I sighed but nodded. It was obvious in the way Alyssa stared me down that there was no room for discussion about it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I gave the camera a small wave as I walked into the mess hall. I knew that the team had talked Jill into letting them get a cake for me. I was a bit surprised though by the amount of boxes that were wrapped. 

Christie had me wearing the new pair of sneakers she had gotten me earlier today after I had accidentally told her that the only new shoes I ever got were my soccer cleats. She had seemed upset by the fact that my parents had only ever given me hand-me-downs for shoes. Her present was the only gift that I knew what it was. Everyone else had ended up keeping it a surprise from me. 

“Think fast, Pip.” 

I easily caught the box that Hope threw at me. She looked surprised but I had a lot of practice with everything that would be thrown at home. I shook the box before raising an eyebrow at how whatever was instead was easily rattled. I took the newspaper off before pulling the lid off. 

“It’s a rock.” 

“It’s an emerald,” Hope corrected. I slowly picked it up. “Figured you could use it. The guy says it brings love into your life.” 

I immediately dropped the emerald back into the box before shoving it in Becky’s hands. 

“No thanks,” I said as I shook my head. “Don’t need love to try to find me right before the World Cup.” 

A couple of our teammates laughed at that.  

“He also said it improves eyesight.” 

“I have perfect vision.” 

Becky ushered me to sit down before Hope and I could get into a petty argument. I did appreciate the thought of her gift though. 

“Here,” Becky said as she put another gift in front of me. “I hope you like it.” 

I sent Becky a small smile. I was sure that I would. After all, I was just happy to have presents that didn’t relate to soccer. I didn’t realize just how annoying it was to only get gifts relating to soccer. 

“You got me a camera?” 

I tilted my head at the sight of the Nikon camera that now sat in my hands. 

“It’s an F2. I figured you might like it since you seem to always try to steal the cameras at practice. But you’ll have to learn how to shoot on film.” 

I grinned at that.  

“Thanks. I love it.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Kelley spoke up. “We get it. Becky’s your team mom. You’ll love any gift from her.” 

I rolled my eyes at the defender. 

“Here,” Tobin said as a bigger box was pushed toward me. “Might as well keep it on the artistic side.” 

I raised an eyebrow at that. I did wonder if anyone got together to get me something. Maybe Tobin and Becky did? 

“Seen you doodling during film sessions,” Christen explained when I started pulling out sketchbooks and pencils and paints. “Wasn’t sure what to get so I asked Tobin for help, and we just decided to get it all for you together.” 

I hadn’t been able to draw since I was a kid. Not really. At least not if it wasn’t at school. We just couldn’t afford the amount of paper I would go through drawing and how much Mom needed to print so she could edit the chapters of her book. She always said she was old school with her editing and did it much better if she edited a paper copy. 

Present after present was pushed in front of me. Or at least an explanation of what a teammate had ordered for me was given. Like Alyssa ordering me some books she thought I would enjoy. Ali definitely took me by surprise with the amount of clothes she had bought me, but only gave me a shrug that I could start to find my own style instead of having to wear hand-me-downs from my siblings.  

Well, I thought Ali’s would be the biggest surprise, until it was Pinoe’s turn. She had waited to be last. But there were still at least twelve boxes on the table. 

The first was a pair of shoes. So was the second box. And the third. 

“Did you just get me shoes?” 

I knew that I had tried on quite a few, but the ones that Christie had got me were more than enough. 

“You’ve never had your own first pair before now. Now you have options.” 

Twelve pairs of shoes. I couldn’t believe Pinoe. 

“And-” 

“There’s more?” 

There was no way Pinoe got me twelve pairs of shoes and then something else on top of it. 

“It’s like Ali said,” Pinoe started with a shrug, “You can find your own style. I ordered you some clothes to be delivered to your house.” 

I did get into a small argument with Pinoe on whether or not what she got me was too much. It was eventually broken up when the cake was put in front of me, and I was sure that the video of my face immediately turning red as the team sang to me would be posted online. 

“Be honest,” Alyssa nudged me as she walked Becky and I back to our room, “How was your sixteenth birthday?” 

“Best one yet.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

[thesiltverses]

[Description: a bedraggled woman in an anorak - presumably Carpenter - stands amongst reeds with a gathering storm behind her. She stares intensely and furiously at the viewer. The caption reads, '"And when I am dead, of course - there will be no end to the lies they can tell about me." - Faulkner.']

Chapter 30 of The Silt Verses - and the premiere episode of Season 3 - is here! Really hope you enjoy the listen.

The transcript can be found here. This episode contains drownings (multiple), eating sounds (34.50-35.16) car crash, gunshots (49 minutes onwards)

This episode features performances by the incredible Steve Hendrickson, B. Narr, Sophie Lynch, H.R. Owen, Méabh de Brún, Steven Zivic, and Steven Anzalone.

Huge gratitude as well to the amazing AJ Fidalgo, Alyssa Petrie, Rissa Montanez, and Marlon Dance-Hooi for providing additional voices throughout the episode!

And if you want to know more about the process behind making the episode, we've got an episode commentary already up for our amazing patrons.

[allthefandomthings55]

Life in the Limelight

Chapter 3

Spencer’s POV

After my text conversation with Y/N, I got back to work. All I had to do was hope that we didn’t get a case in two days. I hopped off the elevator and walked to my desk and greeted everybody as I went. As I sat at my desk I started to do paperwork that had been piling up. 

“Hey Reid, my man,” Derek said slapping his hands on my shoulders. 

“Oh no, what do you want, Derek?”

“Nothing, I just think you should come out with me this weekend. Maybe Saturday?”

“I don’t know, Derek, I think I’m busy Saturday.”

“Ok Pretty Boy! What are you doing, hmm? Are you going to watch some obscure movie? Maybe reading a whole bunch of obscure books?”

“Yeah, actually I was thinking about going out and getting lunch after going for a walk in the park then going to an early movie then going home and reading some books.”

Derek, JJ, and Emily seemed surprised for me to have a detailed plan ready. “Ok Reid,” Emily starts, “Are you going with anyone?”

“No, I’m not. I’m actually kind of excited to go out by myself and enjoy life.”

Everyone was staring at me, trying to read my micro-expressions but I knew they couldn’t. “Everyone in the meeting room in five,” Hotch said as he walked passed us. After everyone left to go to the meeting room, I let out a deep breath. I hope this case doesn’t take us out of state and doesn’t take us long. I don’t want to miss my hangout/date with Y/N. I walk up to the meeting room to see everyone sitting there. 

I take my seat and Garcia starts the meeting, “Ok friends we have trouble in our backyard. First victim, Alyssa Caldwater, was last seen leaving her job at 10:30 last Tuesday night. She was found dead two days ago in an alley, and get this, completely naked. Then just yesterday an Amanda Clarke was found in another alley about two blocks from where Miss Alyssa was found. Also they were both strangled to death then stabbed 30 times postmortem.”

“So,” Emily started, “we’re clearly dealing with someone who has extreme aggression problems.”

“Yeah, they might also be impotent. Maybe that’s why he stabbed them,” JJ commented.

“You know, because of the overkill, we’re definitely dealing with someone who is really fit, or is on some kind of stimulant drug that would give them the strength and energy to do something like this,” I said. 

“Well, it seems like this guy is speeding up. One girl dumped two days ago and another one dumped yesterday.” Rossi added.

Hotch spoke up, “Either way we better get down to the D.C. field office and help them figure this out. Everyone at the cars in 10 minutes.”

I got worried because I don’t know if we’ll be done in time for my brunch with Y/N so I decided to call her. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N, how are you?”

“I’m good, Spencer, I’m just leaving rehearsal. What about you?”

“Uh, I’m ok. Look I hate to do this, but my team and I just got a case and I don’t know if it will be done by Saturday. Luckily it’s here, well in D.C., but close enough, right?”

“Oh,” she sounded disappointed, “well that’s ok. I mean you can’t just let people die, right? How about this, we’ll play it by ear. What I do for work is really flexible so I can meet you really anytime I want. Within reason though.” She chuckled after that sentence and I liked the sound of it. I honestly didn’t even know what to say. “Spencer? Did I say something wrong?”

“No! I mean no you didn’t. I just haven’t always had people in my life that understood my situation.”

“Oh believe me I get your situation. Don’t be nervous but I really need to tell you something when we do get to meet. It’s nothing bad, but I think it’s important that you know.”

“Ok, yeah no worries right? But I have to get going to solve this and hopefully I can make our time and date.”

“Yeah you go catch a killer, Spencer. Good luck.”

“Thank you. Bye,” and I hung up the phone. I made my way downstairs and before I got off the elevator I took a deep breath and made my face neutral so the team couldn’t read me. 

As I walk out of the elevator I see the team waiting for me. “Petty Boy! What took you so long?”

“Uh, I just had to make a phone call.”

“Really? To whom?” I decided to ignore him and just follow everyone else and get into the SUV.

[princessconsuela120]

Chapter three: Ivy—❃

Series masterlist

Chapter Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex and drugs

Authors note: enjoy guys!!!

—❃

Alyssa wasn’t sure why she did it, her feet seemed to lead her where her heart wanted to go. So she found herself at Fezco’s apartment. And there comes that spontaneity. A problem all is teenagers have. Being impulsive, and stupid just for the hell of it. Basically they had sex.

“Shit.” Alyssa mumbled to herself, running to the bathroom to put her clothes on when she noticed Fezco laying naked beside her. 

She didn’t mean to do it, honestly. She just went over to talk to him bout the letter. It didn’t work, and when she couldn’t she decided to get high with Fezco instead.

“Shit you’ve been around the world and shit?” Fezco asked, making Alyssa nod as she took a swig from her beer.

“Yeah, that’s the one cool part about the army.” She smiled to herself before looking up at Fez. “I saw Paris.” 

“Shit, Paris?”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t say it, but it made her think of him. They had always planned to move somewhere foreign, somewhere like Paris.

“We should go to Paris.” Alyssa said, turning to fezco who looked back at her as if she were mad.

“Damn, Paris? Isn’t that I little ambitious.” He suggested, making her roll her eyes.

“We’re on the run for murder, what do you think?”

“Fair enough. Let’s do it.” 

“It’s like, everything we ever talked about.” Fezco said, making Alyssa smile at him. Paris was amazing, it would’ve been better with him there.

“Yeah.”

“Shit ma, I missed you so much. It’s good to have you back.” Fezco said happily, turning to Alyssa with a soft smile as she smiled back.

“It’s good to be back. I um, I missed you too.” 

She really did, she was just suprised to hear that he missed her too. The night continued the way it was supposed to, they talked and got high like old times. And then she kissed him, and she ended up having sex with him. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, but it was.

“Fuck. Fezco, wake up.” Alyssa said, throwing a beer can at him as he shook awake.

“Huh? What time is it?” He said groggily, making her sigh.

“Too early for this shit. Now put some clothes on.” She threw a sweatshirt at him, noticing the look on his face as he realized what had happened.

“Did we?”

“Mhmm.”

“Damn and I was high for it too.” Fezco sighed, running a hand nervously over his head. “Sorry ma this wasn’t how this was supposed to happen.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, furrowing her eyebrows at him.

She knew exactly he meant.

“Our first time you know? If always hoped it’s be special.” Fezco explained, making her blush.

“Really?” She shook her head, remembering the note. “Well, it’s whatever put your clothes on.”

So he listened, he’d always listen to her. 

She felt sort of bad for leaving, but she still did it. She used his letter as leverage to leave. She’d realized much later how much shit she was in.

[presidenthades]

I am doing very minor revisions of Daemon’s Handbook (mostly formatting and continuity errors), and I wanted to do some behind-the-scenes commentary before too much time passes and I forget my original thoughts. Here’s Chapter 7!

(Note that these commentaries aren’t canon to the verse until/unless the author writes them into the series. I might change my mind on a few points later, but these are the thoughts I had while writing.)

If I had to pick a favorite chapter to write, it’s this one. It’s the first post-time skip chapter, so we get to behold all the children (now young adults) in full horny mood.

Also, Alyssa develops a personality, and BOY is it a personality. I originally planned to make her a female version of Aegon III, who is very quiet, but it occurred to me that a hellion would be more fun (and torturous for Daemon, which is the real goal in this fic).

Aegon and Aemond are supposed to return directly to King’s Landing and wait with their family to receive the Dragonstone party, but Aegon decided he couldn’t wait to see Jace again and Aemond only required mild convincing to go along. And yes, the boys took a bath first in some river so they look nice and groomed~

One of Jace’s biggest character quirks is anxiety. She has ALL the anxiety. Comes with being an eldest sibling and second in line for the throne. I don’t consider her shallow, but she perceives her appearance as an important part of her political and social toolkit because the society they live in puts a lot of stock in appearances, especially women’s. So she’s finicky about looking the right part for every occasion. (Also she wants to look nice for her husband whom she hasn’t seen in three years, nothing wrong with that.)

I made Luce a knitter, partly because I’m a knitter and I like incorporating my interests, and partly because I wanted to give her a textile craft that wasn’t embroidery. I hope I’m not being too biased when I say that in this era, knitted products (like socks) are more useful than embroidered products (like fancy handkerchiefs). The practical value of knitting, and it being an acceptable craft for ladies even if it’s not as popular as embroidery, seemed fitting for Luce, who isn’t super conventional but also not a complete rebel. I also really like the imagery of her sending flowery socks to the Stepstones for Aegon and Aemond and Grandpa Corlys to wear.

Daemon is fit for his age, but he’s in his 40s and he’s got a lot of old battle wounds, so chasing around toddlers is fairly strenuous. Also, toddlers are FAST. Alyssa is closer to three than two, and she’s spent her entire life trying to keep up with her older sisters, so she’s got a fairly good sense of balance and isn’t stumbling around as much.

“Pretty girl” is 100% Aegon’s pet name for Jace, and I’m using it gratuitously in one of the sequel fics, which is Jace and Aegon-centric. (I’ll have an update soon on what I’m writing next, but I’ve decided to break down the epic longfic idea into multiple, more manageable mid-length fics.)

Aemond thinks Alyssa is spooked by his eyepatch and scar at first, but she’s actually falling in love at first sight. 😂 She’s got heterochromia so she probably *likes* that his eyes aren’t symmetrical either.

Aegon and Aemond are no longer afraid of Daemon! They’ve seen a lot of shit in the Stepstones, so their middle-aged uncle seems like less of a big deal now. Poor Daemon.

Aegon and Aemond are currently 18 and 16, so I made their stomachs black holes like most teenaged boys. They also have been eating a lot of rations at the Stepstones, even as royal princes, so a “plain” meal at Dragonstone seems awesome.

I have nothing to say about the melons, except that I’m very sorry for Lucera 🥲

Idk why but there’s something about Jace being very dutiful and proper that attracts messy rebels like Aegon and Baela. Opposites attracting, maybe? Kinda like how Luce is on the wilder side but Aemond is super put-together. I’ve thought about a crackish scenario where Viserys messes things up (as usual) and betroths Jace/Aemond and Luce/Aegon. I think Jace and Aemond would get bored with each other while Luce and Aegon might accidentally kill each other.

Jace and Aegon know their siblings are being stupid about their feelings for each other. Jace tries not to meddle (she doesn’t like it when Daemon meddles so she resists the urge), and Aegon makes fun of Aemond in the half-hearted hope it’ll goad Aemond into doing something.

I like to imagine that Luce eventually invents double-entry accounting in this universe. I also think she’s a big fan of the abacus, which is a more visual way of keeping track of numbers. She also likes charts and graphs in general.

The three dragonglass daggers that Luce orders from the blacksmith are for her, Jace, and Joff. (Luce loves all her sisters, but she has a special place in her heart for the three of them who are full-blooded sisters.) Purple for Jace (royal color for the future queen), green for Luce (like the sea and Velaryon colors), red for Joff (Targaryen color, nice and bloody). She isn’t expecting her sisters to use them as weapons; she wanted to make a gesture before Jace’s official wedding, since it marks a huge change in their lives.

I keep describing Luce and Aemond’s relationship in this fic as Pride and Prejudice-esque, and I stand by it. Miscommunication, ego issues, awkward flirting, a failed first proposal. One commenter described Daemon as the anti-Mrs Bennet, trying his best NOT to let the girls marry. 😂 And if we keep the analogy going, Clement Celtigar is Mr Collins while Otto is the closest thing we have to Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

I established in the beginning that Daemon is very bad with feelings. This scene where he tries to comfort Baela is part of his character arc and emotional growth, but he stumbles a few times more before the end of the fic.

I am very pleased that so many readers pinpointed Joff/Daeron as black cat and golden retriever energy, because I was definitely going for that. Daeron spews a lot of word vomit in his one line of dialogue, but you might notice he mentions “I got that thing you really wanted.” See the final scene in Chapter 11 for “that thing.” 👀

Jace is making PR a priority in her reign (and before her reign). She’s observed how loyal the Dragonstone smallfolk are to the Targaryens and wants to spread that loyalty to the realm’s smallfolk in general. This is why she and Aegon do the flight into the city, and why she has her Princess Diana moment on the way to the wedding.

Chapter 8 commentary here

[mangoshorthand]

Before A Fall [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch 4 (Hard Feelings Part 2)

SUMMARY: As your life begins to grow around Five's, his attitude becomes a little sinister. When does protection become suffocation and when does taking matters into your own hands become betrayal? (weekly updates) Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

Five is buzzing at the hint of a mystery, but your feelings are becoming more complex.

Smut below. Proceed at your own risk

Chapter 4: Socialist Sesame Street

The other adults have mixed responses to Five upon seeing him again, leaning against one of the many LEDs screens, eyes scouring the ingredients on the back of a can of JUICED. Some tsk in disapproval, most ignore him but the odd person tries to talk, worriedly. These he shuts down; politely but firmly. One man approaches him with aggressive swagger, presumably the same man who had objected to his interruption back in the auditorium. 

“Hey, son.”

He’d hoped the diminutive terms of address would be gone by now. Apparently not. He looks up at the man. He’s solidly built with a cap pulled down tightly on his bald head.

“You made a real ass of yourself in there.”

Five returns his eyes to the ingredients list, one hand falling naturally into his pocket, “I wasn’t craving your opinion on my behavior but thanks for the feedback I guess.”

The man bristles, “You got a kid in second grade? Got a girl pregnant when you were a freshman or something?”

“I’m in loco-parentis."

"What?"

Five sighs, "I'm Santiago Pitts-Hargreeves' uncle. I'm in charge while his parents are away. Now, can I help you?”

“I’m just telling you." he gestures to the can in Five's hand, "My Sean drinks it every day and he ain’t got cancer. You one of them conspiracy nuts?” 

“Depends on the conspiracy.”

This answer clearly doesn’t put this Dad's mind at rest.

“Listen, you’re crazy bastards, you’re scared of everything. First the soda gives kids cancer, then they faked the moon landing-"

Five speaks as if to finish his list, “-then there’s widespread pedophilia cover-ups in the catholic church. Not everything that sounds crazy is false.”

The guy reverts tactic:

“Like I say, JUICED is all my kid drinks. Nags and nags until he gets it. If it caused cancer, he’d for sure have it.”

“Well,” says Five, inclining his head and raising his eyebrows with a hint of sardonicism, “then I'd suggest you get him tested. Just in case.”

You and Santi watched and enjoyed the latest Pixar offering and he laughed at you when you’d left the theater with tears in your eyes. You’d decided to spoil him tonight; this kid was having the toughest of tough times. After the email Five mentioned to you, at least half of you is convinced that you’ll arrive home tonight to learn that Alyssa has died.

Partly due to this preoccupation, you’d allowed Santi to spend an inordinate amount of money on movie-theater candy and he's still riding the sugar high. 

He sits, swinging his legs at your McDonald’s table and chatters happily about how fries taste a jillion times better if you dip them in ketchup and then barbeque sauce but not the other way around. You, of course, try it both ways and pretend to taste a difference in the result.

“Wow you got a real sense of flavor. You think you’re going to be a chef?”

“Nah. I got to use my power. I can save the bees and maybe one day pandas and tigers and everything.”

“Cool” you say. While you have your doubts about the long-term genetic stability of duplicated creatures, you run with it anyway, “I bet you will."

You pause a second, your mind flashing back to his conversation with Five. Is there an opportunity to be a different voice?  

“That’s a really kind thing to do for the animals. How else might you save them?”

He looks a little confused.

“I’m asking because when there aren’t enough animals it’s usually because of something people have done accidentally or on purpose. You can duplicate animals, but if people have built on their homes, then where will they live?”

“I get Uncle Luther to knock down all the buildings!”

“I don’t think Uncle Luther would do that,” you laugh, “he’s too nice. What about the poor people in the buildings? Where will they live? It’s not their fault.”

“But the animals?”

“I know Santi. I think we need to stop the builders building there in the first place…but maybe the builders only built there because people needed to live somewhere.”

“Maybe the people go someplace else?”

“Mm-hm. But what if they don’t have enough money to go live somewhere else?”

“We give them money���or we give them houses. We got lotsa rooms at home.” He chomps his hamburger.

“That’s a nice idea,” you look at him, thoughtfully, “but isn’t it crazy how animals not having enough places to live can be sorta linked to some people not having enough money?”

“Yeah,” he chews thoughtfully. He looks troubled by this, so you lighten up this cursory glimpse down socialist Sesame Street.

“Don’t worry about it now. There are lots of kind people who work together to make sure everyone has a home. People and animals. Maybe one day you could join in?”

“Yeah!” 

He's smiling in that way that reminds you of Lila- chubby cheeks pouting outwards. 

“I think you’d fit right in. You’re kind too. And if a lot of people are kind together and care an awful lot, they can fix stuff.”

“Like the Lorax?”

“Yeah, kinda. Do you want an ice-cream?”

In the semi darkness on the Academy steps, you sit down and gesture for him to sit next to you. He does and you take both of his small hands in yours.

“Santi- before we go in, how are you feeling?”

“Happy,” he smiles.

“Yeah? I’m glad to hear that. How are you doing with the mean people at school?”

“They mostly been off school so it’s better.”

Well…it works on a temporary basis, you suppose.

“Who have you played with at recess?”

“The bugs,” he grins, “I made four HUGE spiders today.”

You shudder, “Oh no- that sounds like my worst nightmare!”

He laughs, an infant-like squeak creeping into his voice. When all is said and done, he’s still just a baby.

"It's ok, I make them disappear too, you know." 

You smile, “Tomorrow, can you do something for me?”

“What?”

“At recess, if you see someone who looks lonely, can you see if they want to play?”

He pulls a face but doesn’t really respond.

“That would be a kind thing to do,” you prompt.

He hesitates, “I’ll try.”

“Perfect!” you raise your arms in exaggerated joy.

“But what if they say go away?”

“Then you’ll have been kind anyway and I’ll be proud of you. Maybe they're feeling sad. And...some people are mean, but that's their problem; it's nothing to do with you really.”

You hold out your arms to him and give him a tight hug. You feel a sudden rush of affection. You've been in this little boy's life for a significant portion of it. It's a responsibility you don't take lightly. 

He yawns.

“Come on, sweetie,” you say, “it’s late. Let’s get you to bed.”

Almost as soon as you step into the entrance hall, Five blinks into existence in front of you with the familiar ffssht and flash of light. He drops to his haunches and grips both of Santi’s upper arms in his:

“Santi! DON’T drink the soda.”

“Wh-what?"

"Five?"

“JUICED. Santi: never drink it again. You gotta promise me!”

“O-ok.”

“Promise?”

“Promise!”

“You’re scaring him.” 

You put your hand on Santi’s shoulder and steer him out of Five’s grip.

 “What’s happened?”

“I think it’s poison.”

With Santi calmed and sound asleep, you’re sitting on the bed while Five stands, his arms folded and toe tapping. 

"You can’t tell Diego and Lila until you’re sure.”

 “Yes. I’d come to that conclusion.”

“But what made you think-?”

“Can you be quiet a moment? I have to think."

You stare, hurt.

He blinks across the room, pulls an ancient typewriter out of the bottom of your wardrobe and slams it on the table. He looks around madly, opening draws and ducking his head under the desk. You cross to the bookcase and extract a sheet of paper from the ream stored there.

He takes it wordlessly, threads it onto the roller and types smartly. You move as if to read it over his shoulder but he waves you away gruffly. You step back, perplexed.

He stands quickly, tears the paper from the machine and rolls it into a tight cylinder.

With that, he blinks away.

In his Dad’s old office, he crosses to the fireplace, glancing disdainfully up at the painting on the wall, (What sort of pathological narcissist has an oil-painting of himself behind his own desk?). The green-tiled surround is flanked by two carved volute pillars, ostentatiously holding up the equally ostentatious mantelpiece. 

Beside the right-hand pillar on the swell of the chimney breast is a hidden compartment that opens only for his hand. Inside is a tube-shaped capsule and a pipeline disappearing upwards- it's a founder's privilege. He stuffs his note into the tube, the tube into the pneumatic pipeline and slams the lid shut.

He backs up, the back of his legs coming into contact with Reginald’s desk. He sits there silently, listening to a fly buzz somewhere in the room. His leg shakes restlessly for a moment until he can’t stand it anymore. He’s up and over at the glass-doored cabinet to his right. He pulls out the decanter, two glasses and pours a generous amount into each. Then, he takes up the slightly larger of the two and sips.

The fly stops buzzing. The air’s thicker. It’s a state Five remembers well. Time has been paused.

“Hello Number Five,” comes Herb’s friendly voice, “long time no speak.”

“I was kinda hoping to finally knock my time with the Commission on the head... yet here I am.”

Five turns and sits behind the desk. With a gesture, he offers Herb the seat on the other side.

“Bourbon?”

Herb accepts, taking his seat and placing his briefcase under the table. Five passes the other glass over the desk.

“How’s Dot?”

“Well, thank you,” Herb smiles, “and your lady?”

A slight shadow passes Five’s face, which Herb doesn’t miss.

“She's well.”

Wisely, Herb decides not to pursue this line of enquiry. Instead, he gets down to business.

“Now, how can I help you today?”

“It's small fry from your perspective but I got some suspicions, Herb." 

He leans back in his father's chair and crosses one leg over the other before continuing.

"Holbrook Elementary school in the city. Four kids in one class have developed cancer and it’s too unlikely to be a coincidence. There’s no atmospheric reason that I could place and yet they’ve got this corporate sponsorship with the soda company JUICED....and the stuff is all over the school.

Herb nods, smilingly, “You trying on the old superhero cape again?”

“It’s my nephew’s school Herb.”

“Ah.” Herb takes another sip of whiskey.

“Now, I’m hoping you’ll be able to run some numbers and help me out here. Give me something to go on.”

Herb looks pained, “Er- you know that I can’t-”

“Yes, I know you can’t just tell me the answer but can you at least indicate the path to finding the answer, or maybe tell me if I’m way off base.”

Herb considers.

“Give me,” he checks his watch, “until tomorrow on my end but I can make it five minutes for you.”

“Thank you.”

With a nod, Herb picks up the briefcase and vanishes.

The fly resumes its buzzing, the air clears. Five massages the pressure points at the bridge of his nose in an effort to clear the slight build up in his sinuses that always results from the pausing and unpausing of time. He finishes his drink and pours another, containing one restless leg’s desire to shake with difficulty. He checks his watch.

The fly appears before his face, he lifts a hand to waft it away just as it freezes in mid air. Herb, wearing a different shirt and tie, is again before the desk, holding a thick file.

“Hello.”

“Thanks again Herb.”

 Five plucks the static fly from mid-air and positions it out of his eyeline before continuing.

“What have you got for me?”

“It’s as I thought. I can’t give you much because you’re integral to working it out.”

“Ah shit.” Five leans back into Reginald’s old desk chair, “you mean, the old fashioned way? Like, chemistry?”

“Afraid so.”

He sighs, “So I’m reading up on chromatography?”

Herb gives him a little shrug and jerk of the head as he takes a sip of his whiskey, his face seems to say: Maybe, but I can’t tell you.

“Is there anything, anything at all you can say?”

“I can put your mind at ease: Santiago does not have cancer.”

Five lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Five seems too wired to sleep. He has the bit between his teeth and can’t let go. He told you that Santi’s fine but nothing else. It’s like trying to sleep next to a coiled spring. You turn over to face him.

“You don’t seem tired.”

“I need a good night’s sleep. I just can’t switch off.”

“Want me to help?”

"It's not really your area." 

It’s not really a dismissal, just a statement.

"Maybe I didn't mean like that."

His eyes dart towards you. He thinks he knows what you’re getting at, but after skating on thin ice over the last week, he doesn’t want to assume.

“I’d be…grateful.”

 For your part, you’ve been noticing him this evening. His eyes look bright, hard, intense. All his mannerisms became more pronounced as his inhibitions were swept away in the greater current of his roiling mind. His hands were shoved so deeply in his pockets that you were sure they’d rip. His characteristic forward lean had been so pronounced it was almost a bow. 

He attracts you more than you’d wish considering his attitude right now, but now you’re willing to forget everything, even his caginess, just to be able to pleasure him. You don't want to think too hard about the implications of this.

Pushing down your conflicting feelings, you kiss his neck softly, burying your nose in his lower hairline and breathing in his smell. It makes your stomach flip; familiar, but intoxicating. You creep your mouth up to his ear and blow softly into the shell. When he still seems distracted, you glide the back of an idle hand down his naked chest and over his stomach as you run your tongue along his helix. This always makes him shiver and today is no different.

Having captured his full attention, you return your mouth to his neck and raise your hand to his nipples. He sighs, vocalizing a small moan as you stimulate the sensitive buds- rubbing first one and then the other to hardness. You switch your mouth’s focus, tongue coming instead to rhythmically flick each nipple with its tip while your hand caresses his neck. 

His breathing becomes more expressive as your hand comes down beneath the sheets and beneath the sweatpants he sometimes likes to sleep in. He lifts his hips and pulls them down for you as you give his rapidly hardening length a gentle stroke, redoubling your efforts on his chest to get him there faster.

When he’s fully hard, you pump him softly, occasionally stopping to just stroke the head between your thumb and other fingers in the way that he likes, spreading the leaked precome over his swollen glans. When his little sounds of enjoyment become needy, you speed up. With a little hiss, he thrusts upwards, the muscles in his lower body flexing invitingly into greater prominence.

Before you can get him there, you know you want to taste him. You burrow under the sheets and take the head into your mouth, teasing the rim of his glans with the warm-wet pressure of your lips. He lets out a moaning sigh. You don’t intend to draw this out, but you can’t resist inching your mouth slowly down his length, making sure he can feel every moment before you take him to completion. 

He throws the sheets back to look down at you with his whole dick in your mouth. You look up at him with the eyes that had first attracted him; their doe-like innocence in stark contrast with the situation

"Haaah…” he whispers, “make me come, you little cocksucker." 

His hands come to the sides of your head, fingers as usual tangling in your hair.

Now you bob your head, focusing the flat of your tongue on stimulating the head while he’s inside you. You look up at him again; his eyes are half-lidded and mouth agape. Your mouth is making sloppy, wet sucking noises as you go down on him, your saliva leaking down his shaft. You can tell the sound and sight is turning him on just as much as the feeling. 

"Fuuucck. You look so good down there. So good. You gonna swallow what I have for you?"

You want to swallow it. You don't care about anything else- not his disregard, not his dismissal, nothing. His moans become grunts and his hips rise off the bed. You add a hand into the mix, stroking the shaft in time with your mouth, now concentrated on the head. As your eyes meet his again, his hips jerk spasmodically and his grunts become a sustained roar. You keep it up as you feel him douse your waiting tongue with his milky-sweet seed. 

The taste of him makes your nipples harden. You slow down slightly, knowing that his most intense orgasms become too much if you attempt to go hard with direct stimulation. With his voice subsiding into gasps, you milk and swallow all the come you can from him, greedy for it. 

“Ah…stop”

You remove your mouth and give him one final, long stroke, just to make sure you got it all. You lick the last little bead from his opening- not willing to waste the tiniest drop. He sighs contentedly.

Is there a hint of smugness in his look, or is it your imagination?

"Mm. Thank you, dear one." he mumbles, rolling onto his side and enfolding you in his arms. As he strokes and kisses you, you come down from the high and stare into space. He rubs your hip.

"Can I...do you?" 

"It's fine." you murmur. 

"If you're sure?"

He sounds surprised, but only slightly.

In response to your confirmatory nod, he kisses you with lithe-lipped tenderness, stroking your cheek with light, loving fingers. He breaks the kiss slowly, looking at you with adoring eyes. Then he holds you to him again and relaxes into his post-orgasm euphoria, eyes closing.

"I love you so much." he whispers, sleep beginning to overtake him.

"I love you too." 

He doesn't notice the slightly bewildered tone to your voice. What happened to your self-respect?

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh,@nevbrooke-555

Masterpost Alternatively, join me on AO3.  Here is a link to the whole series

[thedreamworldlibrary]

Nothing Bad Happens Chap. 4- Day 1

The next chapter is here!! More of the Dreamworld characters will be appearing in this chapter!

This chapter took me a while to complete because of a few personal and crazy things going on. Plus, when I was trying to work on this chapter I ended up with a new WTDW idea that’s also posted.

Big thanks to @gigilefache for being my beta reader!

Enjoy!!

The following morning, Wiatt made it early to Dreamworld to start his first full shift. Upon opening the door, some of his co-workers were there setting up for the day. He was about to walk over to them but was stopped by Starlight.

���Morning, darling.” Starlight beamed.

“Oh!” Wiatt exclaimed. “Morning Star.”

“Are you ready for your first full day here?”

Wiatt nodded.

“Great!” Starlight exclaimed. “I’ll be hanging around since it’s your first day.”

“Uh…okay,” Wiatt replied. He then went to walk to the other co-workers and one in particular went over to him.

She had blonde hair dyed blue at the tips and wore a blue uniform themed after Glory. “You must be Wiatt. I’m Alyssa.” She said, holding her hand out for Wiatt to shake.

“H-Hi.” Wiatt stuttered as he shook Alyssa’s hand. The girl had such a tight grip on his hand and her shaking made him feel like a rag doll.

Alyssa let go and chuckled at the man. “Everyone has been talking about you, you know.” She mentioned.

“Really?” Wiatt asked.

Alyssa nodded, “there is only one person who’s known the founders personally. It’s surprising to us to see there’s someone else who’s known the trio, especially if they grew up with them.” She explained.

Wiatt chuckled, surprised word got around quickly. He wondered if Lewis or his other two friends brought it up to Alyssa and the other co-workers earlier.

“Hey! Alyssa!” 

The girl turned towards a man with short brown hair, yellow eyes, and scars on his face. He wore a red uniform with orange and yellow sleeves.

The man paused, seeing Wiatt. “Oh, hi. You're Wiatt, right?” He asked.

“Correct,” Wiatt replied.

“I’m Mike, I’m Alyssa’s friend.” Mike introduced himself.

“Nice to meet you!”

“Alyssa, Audrey needs help with some of the pool supplies.” Mike reminded his friend.

“Thanks for reminding me,” Alyssa replied. “See you around, Wiatt.”

Wiatt waved goodbye to his co-worker as Mike turned to face him. “Oh Wiatt, Mr. Gale wants to see you in the maintenance room to help with our triplets' animatronics,” Mike explained.

“I can lead Wiatt there, darling!” Starlight stepped in.

“Uh…okay. Thank you Starlight.” Mike replied, before walking away to help with the workers.

“Come along, darling,” Starlight said as he led Wiatt to the maintenance room.

In the maintenance room, Eric Gale was trying to control three smaller animatronics, aka the triplets. The three animatronics were running around the man, as their antennae were crooked. “A-Alright settle down you three.” He said, stuttering a bit.

The triplets laughed as they ran, hoping the man would catch them. “I’m right here!” The orange animatronic exclaimed, popping up behind Eric.

“You can’t catch me!” The purple animatronic teased, popping up in front of him.

“C- Come on guys. I’m too old for all this!” Eric exclaimed.

A knock on the door was heard, and Star slowly opened the door. “Uh…Eric.”

Eric and the triplets stopped turning to face the animatronic. The triplets gasped seeing Starlight and smiled, “Starlight!” They exclaimed.

“Hello, you three,” Starlight replied. “Eric, I got the new employee here to help you with the triplets.”

“G-Great!” Eric exclaimed. “I’m gonna need all the help I could get.”

“Cool!” Starlight then stepped forward and let Wiatt in. “Eric, this is Wiatt Nicholson.”

Wiatt froze, recognizing Eric.

“Wiatt this is-”

“Eric Gale. I-I know you!” Wiatt exclaimed, cutting Starlight off.

“You do?” Eric replied, surprised.

“Yeah! Your Lewis’s teacher! He told me so much about you, and how much you taught him!”

At that moment, Eric recognized who this boy was. If he knew Lewis that meant he was- “W-Wait! Are you Wiatt Nicholson? Lewis’s boyfriend?” Eric asked.

Wiatt nodded in reply.

Eric chuckled, “Funny, he told me all about you too.” He said.

“He did,” Wiatt replied.

“Yeah, he’d talk about the weekends you two spent together, and he would always talk about the upcoming plans you two would have together,” Eric explained.

“Oh!” Wiatt exclaimed, blushing a bit. He chuckled nervously knowing Lewis talked about their dates to others.

Eric smiled, but soon felt one of the triplets, the pink one, climb on top of his head, wanting to get a good look at the new employee. “Wow! You know one of the founders?” He exclaimed.

“Of course he does,” Eric replied, removing the animatronic from his head. “Wiatt, meet Mimic, Melody, and Masquerade aka the Triplets.” When Eric introduced each animatronic they each gave a smile and a wave.

“Nice to meet you three,” Wiatt said. “And yeah I dated Lewis.”

“You did!” Masquerade exclaimed.

Wiatt nodded in reply.

Masquerade glanced at his siblings with a smirk. “So could you share with us your relationship with Mr. Bright?” He asked.

Mimic groaned rolling his eyes, “Do you have to ask him that!?” Mimic asked.

“Of course Mimic!” Masquerade replied. “After all, Mr. Gale was the only one to know of the founders before Mr. Wiatt showed up.”

Wiatt slightly blushed, chuckling a bit. “W-Well what do you want to know?” He asked.

“Everything.” Masquerade and Melody said at the same time.

The mechanic gave another nervous chuckle not knowing where to start. “W-Well I met Lewis in high school. No scratch! I’ve known him since 7th grade, but we didn’t start talking and being friends till 8th grade.” Wiatt explained.

“Then how did you fall in love?” Melody asked.

Mimic replied, groaning with disgust.

Seeing how the triplets are distracted by Wiatt’s story. Eric decided it was time to fix the triplets' antennas before it was too late.

“I had a secret crush on him, and turns out he had a crush on me,”  Wiatt explained. “Took us a while to admit it, then during the summer break before junior year we confessed how we feel about each other.”

“Awww!” Masquerade and Melody said at the same time.

“So romantic!” Melody added.

Soon, Eric grabbed Mimic and a wrench and was ready to fix his antennae. “Aha! Gotcha!” Eric exclaimed.

“Gah! Guys help!” Mimic yelled.

“Wiatt grab them!” Eric yelled.

Masquerade and Melody’s eyes widened as Wiatt reacted quickly as he grabbed Masquerade as Melody escaped.

“I’ll get Melody! Just fix Mimic’s and Masquerade’s antennae.” Eric demanded, handing Wiatt Mimic as he chased after the purple triplet animatronic.

Wiatt nodded and put the two on the table, taking a look at their antennae and saw they were crooked. “Stay put.” He said as he opened the drawer and found a wrench.

The triplets shivered as Wiatt used the wrench on Masquerade’s antennae, causing the orange triplet to cover his eyes in fear. However, instead of being hurt as he and his brothers thought, Wiatt used the wrench to strengthen his antennae.

“Your antennae was crooked. All I need to do is straighten it up.” Wiatt explained.

“O-Oh. Thank you, Mr. Wiatt.” Masquerade replied.

“No problem.” Wiatt then turned to Mimic and did the same for him. 

Mimic still braced himself, but seeing Wiatt didn’t hurt him felt at ease when the mechanic fixed his antennae.

Eric came back with Melody, who struggled to get out of his grasp not wanting to get fixed by Wiatt. “Stop struggling Melody, you're gonna hurt yourself!”

“But I wanna play!” Melody whined.

“You’ll play once you and your brothers fix your antennae.”

Eric paused, seeing two of the triplets sitting calmly as Wiatt fixed them. He was in awe seeing them calm as it was the first time since the facility opened.

“There, now all we need is Melody and you guys are done,” Wiatt said.

“Don’t worry, I got him,” Eric said as he handed Melody over to Wiatt.

The new mechanic saw that the purple animatronic was scared, but Wiatt gave a small smile and pat Melody’s head. “Relax, it won’t hurt.” He reassured the animatronic and started to fix the animatronic’s antennae.

Lewis and Sara were passing by and turned to see Wiatt fixing Melody’s antennae. Lewis smiled and tapped Eric on the shoulder. “How is he doing?” Lewis whispered.

Eric turned to face his former student, “I think he’s gonna fit in just fine.” He replied, whispering back.

“There! You three are done and can go play!” Wiatt exclaimed, finishing Melody’s antennae.

Melody looked up at his antennae and squealed. “Thank you, Mr. Wiatt!” He beamed. Melody then jumped off the table with his brothers in tow. “Come on guys! Let’s go and play!” The triplets laughed as they left the maintenance room and went off to have fun.

Wiatt smiled and gave a light chuckle at the triplets seeing them go off and have fun.

“Well that’s a first,” Lewis said. Wiatt turned to see his boyfriend and Sara. “Normally everyone has trouble dealing with the triplets, but you're probably the first one to handle them.”

Wiatt smiled, chuckling. “Well, they aren’t that hard to deal with.” He replied.

“Oh no they are,” Sara added. “You just handle them differently.”

Wiatt gave a small smile, although he knew it was hard to keep a straight face in front of Sara after what he witnessed last night. He wondered if Lewis or anyone knew about what Sara was going through, and if they didn’t should he bring it up?

Sara noticed something with Wiatt and spoke up, “You okay Wiatt?” She asked.

“Oh yeah. I’m fine.” Wiatt replied.

Soon Lewis’s phone rang and saw it was Oliver. “Hey Oliver, what’s up?” He asked, answering the call and leaving the area.

“Wiatt, could you meet me in my office?” Sara asked.

Wiatt felt his heart drop for a bit but tried to put on a brave face. “Sure.” He replied. Sara smiled and led Wiatt to her office.

While walking there, Wiatt had to keep calm. He had a feeling that Sara was going to ask him but decided to keep calm till they were at Sara’s office. 

Once at her office, Sara looked behind her hoping no one followed them, and closed the door. “Wiatt, can you be honest with me?” She asked.

“S-Sure,” Wiatt replied.

Sara then grabbed Wiatt by the shoulder and pushed him to the wall, shocking him. “Sara what the fuck!” He yelled.

“What did you see last night?” Sara yelled.

“W-What?” Wiatt asked.

“What did you see?” Sara repeated.

“I saw you talking with a pegasus animatronic and then you passed out and suddenly you became someone else!” Wiatt exclaimed.

Sara loosened her grip on the mechanic and looked down. “Did they see you?” She asked.

Wiatt shook his head, “no.” he replied.

The female founder sighed letting go of Wiatt. The mechanic was confused at first, but saw the founder sad and hurt that someone found out.

“Just…be careful Wiatt. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Sara said as she went over to her desk and sat down.

Wiatt stood in shock before following Sara’s orders and decided to leave her office. As he was walking back, Litho was right behind him ready to pounce. Feeling his presence Wiatt turned around only to see he was gone. Not wanting to worry about it, Wiatt decided to meet with Lewis again to see if he had anything else planned.

[dykerory]

My 10ish Favorite Books I read This Year (In No Particular Order) (But Then I Did Put Them In Order)

10. Just Like Home by Sarah Gailey

A really fun haunted house story about a woman who returns home decades after her father was caught torturing and killing young women. Whatever you think is happening is probably not. Absolutely adored the ending.

9. A Day of Fallen Night by Samantha Shannon

The highly anticipated follow up to the Priory of the Orange Tree did not disapoint! It's a doorstopper of a fantasy book that is about a) queer women b) dragons c) pretty compelling fantasy alchemical laws. This book, in my opinion, rectifies the imbalanced POV chapters that Priory struggled with and does an excellent job of weaving together its point of view characters.

8. "I Hate This Place Vol. 1" written by Kyle Starks, illustrated by Artyom Topilin and Lee Loughridge

A HYSTERICAL little horror comic about what if you inherited a farm that had absolutely everything wrong with it. I have vol. 2 locked and loaded once I get back from vacation

7. You Made a Fool of Death with your Beauty by Akwaeke Emezi

A gorgeous, lush, romance book about how the heart wants what it wants, no matter how ill-advised it may be. I cannot over-emphasize the pervasive, sheer beauty of this book. The prose is sensual and exquisite, the world is stunning, and it has all the messy drama you could possibly want from a book like this.

6. Silver Nitrate by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

A Silvia Moreno-Garcia book that was made FOR me. It's got obscure, cult horror films, it's got complicated alchemy, it's got dark magic via movie, it's got two terrible bisexuals at the center of it all who cannot be normal about each other EVER. Perfect book. No notes.

5. Little Rabbit by Alyssa Songsiridej

Songsiridej absolutely ratfucked me to the docks and back with this little book. It's the story of a beautiful young woman falling in love with a hot older choreographer and getting into BDSM along the way. In many ways, tailor-made for my interests. It genuinely affected me in a really serious way and I eagerly await whatever Songsiridej writes next.

4. How to Sell a Haunted House by Grady Hendrix

This might be my favorite Hendrix novel yet. After the sudden death of their parents, siblings Mark and Louise fight over their parent's house and the content therein- namely, hundred and hundreds of puppets. It's about as normal as you think. It has that trademark Hendrix grodyness and a good amount of grief, love, and hope in its pages.

3. The Sluts by Dennis Cooper

I read this book back in February and I haven't stopped thinking about it for one single second. It's the story of an online fetish chatroom for gay men in the early 2000s and it quickly devolves into a story of identity theft, sex, murder, and just the nastiest things done to an asshole you can imagine. It's dark, it's shockingly funny, it's everything you could want from a book called the sluts

2. The Daevabad Trilogy by S.A. Chakraborty.

This is technically three books (four if you count the post-trilogy collection of short stories) but god I couldn't possibly choose just one of them to put on the list. This fantasy trilogy, inspired by islamic folklore, follows Nahri, a pickpocket living in French-occupied Cairo as she discovers a mystical world of djinn, magic, and danger. I can't sing this series' praises enough. The characters are so rich and compelling, the world is luscious and beautiful, and the plot has enough twists and turns to keep you hooked until the very last page.

1. Nightbitch by Rachel Yoder

Nightbitch owns so bad. I don't even really want to describe what it's about except that it's dogs. It's motherhood. It's art. It's nightbitch, bitch.

[scribbling-dragon]

Adaptive Nature

Chapter 17

Summary:

When they arrive back in Tumble Town, there is someone waiting for them. Pixl stands beside the stables, arms crossed and foot tapping against the ground as he watches them approach. He looks every bit the image of a disappointed parent watching a child return home after missing curfew.

“You were meant to return yesterday,” Pixl says, arms still folded across his chest. “I understood that you might have been delayed and remained elsewhere overnight, but I expected you back by midday today at the latest.”

“I understand,” Tango dismounts. “But we got caught up elsewhere-”

“In Chromia.” Pixl says. “I know.”

(AO3 Link)

(Masterpost)

(3,787 words)

reblogs would be super appreciated! i really like this chapter and am very proud of it, so i hope you enjoy it too!

(note: after the second line break the narration changes to second person, which i know can be a bit disorientating for people, so i just thought i’d put a warning here for that :])

When they arrive back in Tumble Town, there is someone waiting for them. Pixl stands beside the stables, arms crossed and foot tapping against the ground as he watches them approach. He looks every bit the image of a disappointed parent watching a child return home after missing curfew.

He cannot help but feel guilty despite the disappointed look being directed at Tango and not at him. The disappointment seems to flood the air, until he’s grinning guiltily at Pixl and hoping it doesn't put him in the danger zone.

“You were meant to return yesterday,” Pixl says, arms still folded across his chest. “I understood that you might have been delayed and remained elsewhere overnight, but I expected you back by midday today at the latest.”

“I understand,” Tango dismounts. “But we got caught up elsewhere-”

“In Chromia.” Pixl says. “I know.”

He pauses halfway through dismounting, looking up at Pixl and wondering whether cryptic statements are the suddenly new and popular thing of the day. If they are, he’s definitely missed the memo. Arrow snorts and shakes, dislodging him from his halfway dismounted position and setting him on the ground.

Tango frowns. “Scott spoke to you.” He doesn't sound pleased by that.

“Scott speaks to me most days.”

“We actually just got back from talking to your little buddy.” Tango says, still frowning. “He threatened us.”

“He threatens most people.” Pixl sighs as Tango continues to stare at him. “Look, I understand you don't like him, but he has information that is useful, even if I can't use it. And it also means he isn't hanging onto any centuries-old and priceless artefacts any more.”

“They were hardly priceless.” He feels so incredibly lost in this conversation right now. It’s like he’s just walked into a maze that only has dead ends and no map and no actual end. That would probably be less confusing than trying to follow the path of conversation.

He gives up, much to Arrow’s delight as he leads her back to her stable, and brushes her down as Pixl and Tango continue to have their indecipherable conversation. It seems to be going in one very large circle, starting with how Tango doesn't like Scott, moving around to what they were doing, then back to how much Tango dislikes Scott again.

By the time he emerges from Arrow’s stable, Alyssa has appeared and is giving Pixl and Tango an equally confused look.

“What are they talking about?” She asks.

“Nothing important, just ignore them.” He turns until Alyssa’s back is facing the two. “Did you need something?”

“Just checking that you got what we needed. You were gone for a little longer than expected.” She says. “We haven't got much longer left.”

“Huh?”

“We haven't got much longer left?” She repeats, confusion turning to concern, “It’s going to start getting colder soon, so we’ll need the new fabrics and cloths before that happens.”

“Oh, yes.” He blinks. “I spoke with someone there and we should be receiving a shipment within the next few days.”

“Perfect! Let’s just hope it gets here in time.”

“Sheriff!” He turns as Pixl calls for him, watching as they gesture for him to go over there, and excuses himself from Alyssa and goes to stand with Pixl and Tango. They both just stare at him as he walks over, which is a little unsettling until Tango grins at him. “We wanted to collect information, is there anywhere we can use to gather it all together?”

“My office is probably the best for that,” he answers, “there should be plenty of supplies in there for putting all the information together. I can probably dig out a corkboard and red string if you want that too.”

“I doubt we’ll be needing the red string, but the corkboard might be useful.”

--- --- ---

They end up using the red string. Pixl takes far too much joy in connecting all the pieces of paper together, each with a small detail written on it, joining them up into something that is only slightly understandable.

You can tell which notes have been written by Pixl and which have been written by Tango. The glitter of his gel pens makes it rather obvious, especially as he seems to be capable of continuously producing more pens from different pockets all over his outfit. Pixl doesn't seem to question it, only holding out a hand as Tango somehow manages to produce a completely normal ink pen for him to use. He sets it aside as a mystery he should not know the answer to.

“And what was it that Scott said?” Pixl asks, “Tell me the exact wording.”

“It was, uh,” he struggles to remember what Scott said, pushing it from his mind earlier as he tried not to think too hard about what had been said and how stressed it made him feel. “We needed to seek some kind of heart independently. And light was important? He got really weird afterwards and just left.”

Pixl nods and hums, writing something down on a scrap of paper before pinning it to the board and connecting it with a few other points. Tango nods along with Pixl as he does this, but in his eyes he can see that Tango is just as confused as he is.

He had been able to keep up with it for the first few pieces of information and their connections to each other, but once Pixl started branching out into hyper-specific pieces of knowledge on the Rapture he tuned out slightly, and once he tuned back in there were pieces of paper on top of each other for lack of space and he was completely and utterly lost.

“And does that have any similarities to what was said in your dream?”

“We still don't know that wasn't just a really weird dream.”

“Yes we do,” Pixl sighs, “just tell me what got said.”

“The heart got mentioned again, it was, like, a forgotten heart? It was buried deep too, in the darkest depths.” He does his best to imitate the way it had been spoken, making both Pixl and Tango crack a grin at his shoddy impression.

“Does the Dragon really speak like that?” Tango asks.

“No.”

Pixl yawns then, as he’s pinning the next piece of paper to the board. It’s a loud, jaw-cracking yawn that immediately makes him and Tango yawn as well. They had eaten several hours ago now, and his only indicator of the time is that it is dark. He doesn't know the specifics, and if he thinks about it, he probably doesn't want to know how late it truly is.

Pixl steps back, allowing them to look at the board in its semi-complete glory. The red strings add a frenzied look to it, but it doesn't look like the ramblings of a mad person yet. Some of the paper spills off the side of the board where they had run out of space, pinned into the walls rather than the cork. He had stopped that before it could progress too far, citing that he did not want holes in the wood from all the pins. Pixl had, reluctantly, listened and started pinning pieces of paper on top of each other.

It was almost enough for him to let Pixl continue pinning information on the walls. Almost.

He stands, and both Tango and Pixl look at him in surprise. “I think it’s time we slept.” He announces, not even waiting for an answer before he turns for the door. “If you're not outside with me in a few seconds I'm locking you in the cell.”

Two steps of footsteps hurry after him, and he waits for them to be outside before locking the door behind him. It’s probably best that no one stumbles across their theory board yet; he wouldn't want to incite panic if it isn't necessary.

He can see the moon from out here, and it is certainly not beginning its ascension despite being low in the sky. He dreads to think of how tired he’s going to be tomorrow, but the exhaustion numbs most of his dread for that situation before he can think too heavily on it.

He leaves his front door unlocked behind him. Only because there’s no one that actually wants to break into his home, and also because breaking in through other means is probably easier than opening the door.

Tango follows him to his bedroom, but Pixl has disappeared somewhere along the way, leaving him blinking tiredly at the empty space where his friend is meant to be.

“Pix?” He calls, and Pixl’s head pokes around the corner to stare at him. “What…are you doing?”

“Sleeping.” Pixl stares back at him. “I doubt there would be space for more than two people in your room.”

“You can sleep on the floor.” He offers.

“I can sleep on the floor out here.” Pixl says. “I'm not going to interrupt you two anyway.” He waves a flippant hand between him and his doorway, through which Tango has disappeared. His face warms at Pixl’s words, though they don't feel hostile in any way. Still, it’s embarrassing if Pixl’s figured him out so easily.

He decides that he is far too tired to be thinking about things like that, turns around and shuts his bedroom door behind him. He’s glad in that moment that he no longer has shoes to take off, because he truly believes he would fall asleep halfway through removing them. Instead, he just pulls back the covers, ignoring Tango’s complaint, and curls up beside him.

He doesn't even remember falling asleep.

--- --- ---

You are standing in the rain. It is cold, and there is nothing to shield you from the elements lashing down on you. You are cold, and the ground beneath your feet is damp, already pooling into puddles that will soon turn into miniature lakes.

You are a child, and you are standing at your friend’s funeral.

There is a berth around you. You didn't know what the word berth meant before people started referring to the wide berth you were always given. You looked it up in the dictionary that sits on a shelf in the family living room, the dictionary that is far too heavy to lift on your own but you managed anyway because you wanted to know what the names people were calling you meant.

Your friend’s mother has stood across from you throughout the whole surface, shielded by the umbrella she is holding. No one had offered you an umbrella before you set out, despite it already raining when the door opened. No one even offered you a coat before you left the house.

You are cold, and you are stood at your friend’s- your best friend’s funeral, and his mother is staring at you like it is your fault he is dead.

The mutterings around you ask why you are there, though they never ask it as a question to you directly. They do not ask you, and you do not offer a response. If you are not spoken to, you do not speak in return. Speak only when spoken to, and the rest of the time everyone else can pretend you don't exist.

The murmurings of the crowd do not rise above a whisper but you hear them all anyway. You have always heard them, even when they duck closer to their neighbour and whisper directly in their ear. They are speaking about you. They are always speaking about you.

They stare at you while they speak, eyes colder than the rain washing over you. It is cold. You are stood at your best friend’s funeral. Stood at your only friend’s funeral as his mother begins to cry. She glares at you while she does it, even with tears swimming in her eyes her grief and hatred are not forgotten. Never forgotten.

Someone whispers the word curse, and you stiffen, though you do not respond. You speak only when spoken to. Their neighbours hush them, almost desperately, but you have already heard them.

Curse was the first word you looked for in the dictionary. You had struggled to get it down from the shelf then, teetering back and forth on a stool that could barely hold your weight. When you managed to snag the dictionary from the shelf it had creaked dangerously, and you practically threw yourself to the floor before it could collapse beneath your weight.

It didn't collapse. Even once you had found the word curse, had stood upon that stool again. It had not collapsed as you pushed the dictionary back onto the shelf. It would not collapse until your father sat on it one evening, and it simply collapsed beneath his weight. You would watch, looking on in mute horror, as a sharp piece of wood (too sharp to have come from the stool, surely) would slide through your father’s thigh like a warm knife would slide through butter. The image of that would remain imprinted upon the back of your eyelids for days to come. It would only be replaced when the next accident befell someone.

The doctors, once they arrived, would say that the injury was not fatal. It was painful, certainly, but it was not fatal. They did not look at you, but you felt the blame for it settle upon your shoulders anyway.

You never asked about the curse, and an answer was never given to you.

You knew what it was anyway. Your first discovery of the curse was when you were hiding. You had broken something else, and you did not want to watch how the next person would be injured by it. You were hiding, nestled deep within a bramble bush with the thorns clinging to your clothes and threatening to rip if you so much as moved an inch.

Your legs had been numb for several minutes by the time the conversation floated over to your ears. It is a distant aunt of yours, one who had been present when you were named. One that had watched as the events unfolded as the name was bestowed upon you.

One of your aunt’s friends, you are not sure which one it is as your aunt has many friends, a lot more than you do, asks her to go on. Your aunt makes friends with all the new arrivals to town. She makes a habit of warning people of your dangers. You're not certain what it is that you've done, but you discover what it is that day.

You are the third child of a small family. You are the youngest child of a family of ranchers. Your older siblings are a year apart from each other, while you are several years younger than both.

You were named on a sunny day. It was a beautiful day, apparently, the perfect kind of day for naming a child. It was a celebration, a celebration for your name. You're not sure why you would want to celebrate someone’s name being given. He has never seen someone be named, though you have heard of it happening. You know why you are not invited.

The day was perfect, on the day your name was chosen. It had been chosen for weeks before that, but it was not given until the day was right and the people were gathered there to celebrate you.

Your name was spoken twice.

Once, when your parents named you, announced you to the town under your new name rather than just ‘the new child’ or ‘the new baby’. He had a name, for a day. Your parents had been so proud, apparently. Positively beaming with pride, if you believed your aunt. You don't make a habit out of believing her. You don't like listening to her. She speaks in a harsh and cruel manner when she is around you, cold in a way she isn't with your older siblings.

Twice, when your grandmother, getting on in her years but nowhere near the age when people begin to worry. She had gone sort of funny, a moment later, pale and clammy as she stumbled to the side, the first syllable of your name dying on her tongue as she chokes.

A severe heart attack, the doctors had said afterwards. But everyone there knew what it meant, and the blame, the first of many, settled upon your shoulders before you could even speak.

Your name was not spoken afterwards, and you likely would have forgotten what your name even was if it wasn't the last words your mother had said to you.

She had screamed them, and the sound would haunt your mind for months, years to come. You can still hear it now, the way it had rung in your ears. It had been desperate, but the tone in which your name was cried spoke nothing but blame. That blame settled upon your shoulders, alongside the countless other burdens of blame that had been loaded onto your shoulders over the course of your short life.

You had nothing to your name other than the two horses at your side and the clothes on your back.

You didn't leave until the barn finished burning. You stood there until someone else emerged from the main town to investigate the source of smoke. You didn't leave until it became clear that they intended to destroy the problem at its very source.

You had left, throwing yourself upon a horse and kicking it into a gallop, not daring to look back. For a moment, you had considered not running, not escaping from the fate that he has inflicted on numerous others. If you looked back, you might be tempted to return and face the punishment they decided to lay upon your head.

You did not look back.

You took a new name, took the first boat you could, and you didn't look back.

You arrived on a new continent, one that felt far more friendly than home ever had as the people living there looked at you kindly rather than with hatred. You found a home there, one far more welcoming than the home you left.

Your name was unknown to the people, and they did not consider this odd. They simply nodded, smiled, and continued onwards as though a reluctance to surrender your name was understandable.

Your luck has not befallen those living on this continent yet, but you know it is only a matter of time.

--- --- ---

He opens his eyes, but he is not awake.

The Void has returned, all encompassing this time as it surrounds him. There is no ground beneath his feet, and there is no comforting purple shining at him from the depths of black and blue. Instead, there is only coldness, accompanied by a faint, thrumming sound.

It pulses in the back of his head, radiating through the entirety of his skull until his heart begins to beat in time with it.

He turns, and there is a mass of flesh on the floor. It is not flesh. Not normal flesh, at least. But it is alive, some kind of living matter that has curled in on itself. The smell of decay and rot and death hangs heavy in the air around him.

He hardly flinches at the smell. It is something that has followed in his wake for years, so he is hardly expected to flinch at something.

The sound continues to thrum in the back of his head, beating erratic and painful. The not-flesh convulses on the ground in front of him, pulsing and throbbing as the sound echoes. There are no walls, but the sound resonates anyway, bouncing off the walls of the endless Void.

The not-flesh writhes, and the smaller segments peel away from the main body. It makes a sickening, squelching sound as it moves, slithering over the ground. Viscera drips from it as it moves, and he takes a step back then.

His back hits something, but when he turns to look there is nothing but endless Void.

He turns back, and the not-flesh continues pulsing, the segments snaking their way towards him across the floor in spasming, painful movements. It is slow, something he can easily outrun, but he is pinned in place. Trapped in a corner within a place with no walls.

He cannot escape. Can only watch as the not-flesh begins to spasm more violently, the thrumming sound rising to a crescendo. It sounds like screaming and wailing and crying. It contains a multitude of voices, mixed so thoroughly that they no longer speak a language he understands. Maybe they never did.

The not-flesh does not communicate. It does not speak, but it does not need to.

He recognises it. He knows it. He has never seen it before, but he knows what it is. He knows what his purpose is in relation to it, and the not-flesh knows him. It knows him as an adversary, something that will seek to kill him.

It seeks to destroy him before he can even attempt to kill it. Before he can attempt to seek it.

Something grabs his shoulder, something burning and hot, and he lunges, twists, throws himself towards it.

The thing holds him back, speaking, voice hurried and rapid and low and spoken directly into his ear. He can feel breath brush over the sensitive skin there, and he shivers, shudders, in response, curling in on himself as bile rises in the back of his throat.

He blankets cling to him, and he clings to Tango, breathing in the smell of smoke and brimstone that has long-since stopped inciting fear on every breath and begun to remind him of home instead.

The not-flesh had not spoken, had not uttered a single thing. It only had one intention there, and it did not come to gloat. It had only come to kill him, smother him in his sleep before he could realise what had happened.

It would have worked. He realises, pressing his face deeper into the crook of Tango’s neck and willing himself not to cry, not to be sick, not to think at all on what just happened. The thrumming sound of the not-flesh, the squirming of it, lingers in the back of his mind, even as he tries to push all thought of it away.

Tango pulls him closer, doesn't pull away, doesn't demand answers. He doesn't ask anything, simply sits and holds and pulls him closer when he clings to him. He is warm, and it chases away the last sensations of that place.

Tango’s warmth dispels the last slithering sensations of the Corruption that lingers in his mind.

[emilykaldwen]

🌟 I will take whatever you give me. The thought process/deep lore that may not be 100% clear is always a thing I love to see

Misa, I give you all the kisses.

Send me a Star or Camera for Director's Commentary meme

Commentary for Chapter 4 of The Maiden and the Drowning Boy!

Chapters 3 and 4 were originally one chapter! And then I was like 'wow, 12k is too much let me break them up'. (lo and behold, chapter 9 that posted yesterday did, in fact, hit 12k but I want to keep that a rarity). Also, this was one of the pre-written chapters I had done before I started posting the story in July!

Eagle-eyed readers may have noticed that the story was originally marked as a Helaemond side pairing and that was the intention! But while Aemond's ideas came across very clear, when I went in to write Helaena's pov for this scene, I ran into some trouble. She didn't think of Aemond in the same way that Aemond was thinking of her, she was focused on other things. It was absolutely the first major case of a character taking control of the wheel from me. I had been uncertain about the Helaemond plotline for about three/four months by the time I chopped these chapters back in around early june but sort of set it aside and as I started doing my second pass edits in August for these chapters, I really started to realize I had to listen to Helaena.

Does Helaena feel the same for Aemond as he does for her? It's such a complicated thing when it comes to Targaryens. You grow up in a family that has framed your sibling relationships as non-platonic. You grew up with the daring stories of Jaehaerys and Alysanne eloping against their mother's wishes, and the love story of Baelon and Alyssa. For Aemond, it definitely started from a place of wanting to save Helaena from having to marry Aegon (because that betrothal did happen at least for a short period of time). And then you have two kids who are starting to go through puberty, there aren't a lot of other options around, so it definitely got... confused, I think.

I'm a big Helaemond shipper. It's a ship I enjoy even though a lot of the fic is understandably angst-riddled but the more I went into that pairing within the Maiden-verse, I realized that this wasn't a pairing that served either of the characters in the growth journey I wanted.

Helaena loves Aemond, that much I knew, but this was the chapter that really gave me the first inclination that I had to really start looking at my plotline and see what needed to be done.

The reception to this chapter was also so completely and utterly surprising. I knew that I wanted to approach Helaena's show-canon neurodivergency because I think that was a good character choice, but I actively didn't want her to be 'manic prophecy girl' there to just be whimsy and passive. She's a person with feelings, with desires, wit her own hopes and dreams and this is Helaena before the years have broken her down. This is a Helaena who wasn't forced to marry Aegon and bear children at such a traumatically young age. She's just a girl, like anyone else, and it is genuinely so heartwarming and so rewarding to see how many people felt seen by her, and felt the respect I wanted to put into her for the portrayal. I really didn't try anything new. I really just picked a 'how would she deal with being upset?' path and went from there.

It was also really important for me to show the closeness between Helaena and Abby. These two grew up together, cradle to corsets so to speak, and yet even when they're like sisters, I also wanted to frame the inherent separation that's started between them as they've gotten older. As Abby's taken her role as the companion/mistress of keys to Helaena's small household, and how confusing that feels juggling propriety with the person you literally thought of as your sister in the early years of life. I hope it came across.

Lastly, it's where I first laid the seeds of how tied together Aegon and Abby have been.

While Aemond held her with both hands, Abrogail held her with one, Aegon gripping her other hand increasingly stronger with each passing year, claws and teeth and every muscle inside him straining for the soft words and the laughter. With every slap from their mother, every casually harsh comment from their grandfather, every moment that Father ignored them, or worse, called Aegon Baelon, Aegon pulled harder and harder… Helaena did not want to let go, even as her grip was slipping.

It was one of the first thoughts I had for this particular section. Abby is a piece of treasure growing up in the middle of a clutch of Dragons. They all want a piece of her. Aemond wants his friend who understands and he can be nerds with. Helaena wants her sister who protects her from the things she does not want to do. Aegon wants her and has wanted her since they were little, like a coveted toy. While I have to keep reminding myself that I cannot and don't have to jam pack everything into this fic, there are moments I really work on sliding in that I hope do stick with some of my readers and it's totally okay if it doesn't!

Thank you so much for this ask, Misa! I didn't realize how much I had to say about chapter four!!

[spnhunter4life]

So Long Version 2 Chapter 3

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: A little bit of a shorter one this time. This is the first thing I wrote for this story. Here's the day Jenna turned 16. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Ages 16 and 17 June 25, 1996

I woke up, not exactly expecting to feel different, but maybe hoping. Today I would find out who my soulmate was. At least, I’d get a first name. Even though I knew it was stupid to get my hopes up, I couldn’t help but secretly want it to be Dean’s name. I was also nervous. Did I really want to know? If it wasn’t Dean, how would I deal with the disappointment? But if it was Dean, how could I possibly approach a subject like that? And even then, it wouldn’t mean it was Dean Winchester I was meant to be with. There were other Deans in the world. And wouldn’t he have said something by now if my name was tattooed on him somewhere?

Taking a deep breath, I looked over all of the skin currently exposed by my pajamas. Nothing on my arms or legs from the knees down. I looked at the clock and saw that it was already 9:30. I couldn’t believe I’d slept that long, that my dad had let me!

I jumped out of bed, grabbing my towel and clothes for the day, heading straight for the shower. I’d made one friend in this small Louisiana town, a very outgoing girl I’d bumped into while getting groceries with Sam and Dean. She’d been excited to meet someone new, saying all of her friends were on vacation for the summer, and she and I were supposed to meet up soon to spend the day together.

I started the shower to let the temperature adjust and then started the process of removing my clothes, checking each inch of revealed skin for a name. Nothing yet, then. Supposedly, the name showed up around the time of day you were born. I had no idea what time that was, so I would let Alyssa distract me for the day and check again tonight.

When I came out of the bathroom wearing shorts and a t-shirt with my hair in a ponytail to combat some of the summer heat, my dad, Ben, was just closing the door, chocolate chip muffins, my favorite breakfast food, in his hand.

“Happy birthday,” he smiled. “How does it feel to be 16?” He asked this question every year, but this was the big year, and it held a little more weight behind it. 

“It feels… pretty much the same as every other year I guess,” I told him honestly. Other than my nerves being slightly on edge with the upcoming soulmate reveal, it felt like any other day. “What are you still doing here? I thought you and John would’ve left by now.”

“That was the original plan, but I couldn’t leave without seeing my daughter on her birthday. I wanted to have the chance to eat breakfast together. The case can wait a couple hours,” he told me, sitting down at the table.

“Where are those two shadows of yours?” He teased as I took a seat across from him and grabbed a muffin. I knew he wouldn’t ask about my tattoo. He didn’t like people prying into his life and he didn’t pry into mine. He knew I’d tell him if I wanted to.

“I have no idea,” I replied as I peeled the wrapper off my muffin. “I haven’t seen either of them, but I just got up. Thanks for letting me sleep in by the way.”

“I figured one day can’t hurt. But don’t think you can go slacking off. It’s back to morning runs and training after this,” he said before taking a bite of his own muffin. “I still don’t understand why those boys aren’t here. You three make such a big deal out of each other’s birthdays, I half expected them to break down the door,” he mused.

“Maybe they forgot. And we don’t make ‘such a big deal’. One present and a movie night isn’t too much to ask. Besides, it’s mostly Sam. Dean always made a big deal about his birthdays growing up and so Sam learned to do the same for us,” I told him.

“Yeah but a bunch of kids scrounging up enough money to get those presents for each other is a big deal,” he said with a fond smile. Taking the last bite of his muffin, he stood and grabbed something off of the counter. “Speaking of presents,” he said as he handed it to me.

“Dad, you didn’t have to,” I told him as I grabbed it. 

“I know I didn’t, but it’s not every day your baby girl turns 16. It’s not much, but I thought you would enjoy it,” he replied a little awkwardly.

I grinned and wrapped my arms around him, Backstreet Boys CD clutched in my hand. I had found them on accident really. It was all Alyssa’s fault. I generally enjoyed the same music as Dean, but she had showed me one of their songs and I couldn’t get it out of my head. Dad had heard me humming it one day which led to an embarrassing confession.

“Don’t tell Dean,” I pleaded, knowing the endless teasing and likely judgment I would be on the receiving end of if he found out. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare,” Dad laughed, pulling away from the hug.

“I should probably go find him though,” I said, glancing at the clock. “I’m supposed to meet Alyssa soon and he said he’d drive me.”

“Have fun!” I heard him shout as I left our motel room. I saw the Impala parked by the room next door, so I knew he was here at least. Since Dean has legally been able to drive, John gave it to Dean and the two of them take either my dad’s truck or the one John had purchased after gifting Dean the Impala. As I raised my hand to knock, the door flew open.

“Oh!” John said, startled. “I was just going to tell your dad we need to get going. I’m glad you’re up.” Then he was in the motel room I’d just abandoned, not waiting for my response.

“Hi to you too.” I mumbled under my breath as I walked through the door John had left open to see Dean sprawled out on the couch. He turned to me when I closed the door and grinned.

“Hey, there’s the birthday girl!” He exclaimed, prompting Sam to run out of the bathroom, dressed and looking fresh from the shower, toothbrush in his mouth.

“Jenna! You’re here! I wanted to go to your room a while ago, but Dean told me to let you sleep. Were you sleeping?” Before I could answer him, he rushed on. “He told me you’re going to spend the day with your friend, but we’re still going to have our movie night, right? We have to have our movie night. It’s our tradition!”

“Breathe, Sam." I chuckled. “Of course we’re having movie night. It wouldn’t be a birthday without it. Now how about you go finish brushing your teeth before you start drooling on the floor.” Content with my answer, he hurried back to the bathroom, hand cupped under his chin where toothpaste bubbles were trying to drip down.

“So,” Dean drawled, getting up off the couch. “The big 16. How’s it feel?” He walked over to stand next to me and, not for the first time, I was struck with how effortlessly gorgeous he was. His hair was tousled and still slightly damp from the shower he must have taken this morning. He wore his usual jeans, t-shirt, flannel, and boots, the amulet Sam had given him hanging around his neck, but somehow, he was the most attractive guy I had ever seen. I knew it wasn’t a biased opinion, every girl in every school always drooled after him.

“I assume it feels the same as you felt a year ago.” I replied once my brain started functioning again. “You still good to take me to meet Alyssa?” I asked.

“Sweetheart, have I ever bailed on you?” He asked, mock offended.

“Well…” I trailed off, remembering the handful of times Sam and I had been left to fend for ourselves while he was off with a girl. When I saw him looking at me expectantly, I sighed. “Not when it really counted, no.” I relented.

“Did you ask her yet?” Sam questioned, reappearing from the bathroom and heading for Dean. Dean sighed and looked at me. “Is it ok with you if Sam comes with to drop you off? I don’t know why he’s even asking. I know you don’t care, but he wouldn’t leave me alone about it this morning.”

“That’s not true!” Sam denied. “He told me I could come if you said yes, and I know you usually don’t care, but since you’re 16 today I thought you might want to talk.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“Talk about what?” I asked, brow wrinkled in confusion. There’s not much Dean and I didn’t talk about in front of the kid. I don’t know why he thought there was suddenly a need for privacy or what being 16 had to do with it. “About-” he started, but then cut himself off. “I don’t know.” He continued, head down and shuffling his feet. “Just… being 16?”

I looked to Dean, hoping for some kind of explanation, but he just shrugged his shoulders, although he seemed a little annoyed. I wasn’t in the mood to press the issue though.

“Ok…. Well I don’t have any super-secret conversations that need to be had with your brother, so if you want to come along, that’s fine.” I assured Sam. 

“Good! When are we leaving?” He asked excitedly.

“If Dean’s ready, then right now would be good.” I replied, looking to Dean. He answered by shrugging on his leather jacket, plucking the keys off the table and holding the door open for me.

With everyone piled in the car, Dean started toward the mall where I was supposed to meet Alyssa. It was a typical car ride, Sam chattering away in the back, and Dean humming along to Led Zeppelin. I told Dean where to park. Alyssa wasn’t there yet, but I was content to sit and wait with the boys.

“I thought we might have to wait until tonight to give this to you, but I’m glad we don’t have to.” Sam said excitedly, pulling a box out of his jacket pocket. “It was my idea to get this kind of present for you, but Dean helped me pick it out.” He looked to his brother with a proud smile before handing the box to me.

I was a little nervous to open it. Sam was so excited that I really wanted to like whatever it was. Although he’d never say anything, I could tell Dean was a little nervous too by the way he tensed his shoulders and bit his lip. I carefully opened the box and gasped.

Inside was a bracelet made from ribbons of silk. It was twisted around so that it looked like four different strands. The top and bottom of each ribbon was an olive green while the middle was mulberry. One of the ribbons wrapped through a gold button that was used to adjust the size. I couldn’t believe something so beautiful was for me.

“I love it!” I told them as I took it out of the box to place on my left wrist. I noticed Dean’s quiet, relieved exhale and turned to hug him. “Thank you.” I whispered. He wrapped his arms around me before mumbling a quiet “You’re welcome,” into my hair.

“And thank you too!” I said, pulling away from Dean to face a fidgety, giddy looking Sam in the back. He flung his upper body over the seat to get a hug of his own. “You’re gonna have a pretty hard time topping this one.” I informed him as I sat back. Sam just grinned.

“My friend at the last school had a bracelet that she wore all the time and I asked her if that was a good idea for a 16th birthday present for you,” he explained. “She said if you like jewelry it was a good idea, and I know you like Dean's amulet, so I told him about my idea and he said we’d keep an eye out for anything you might like. There was a lot of stuff I thought you would like, but Dean kept saying they weren’t right.” I glanced at Dean and saw a slight blush gracing his freckled cheeks.

“He liked that one as soon as he saw it. I didn’t know why you’d like it any better than any of the ones I pointed out, but I know you guys know each other really well so I just told him to make sure you knew getting a bracelet was my idea,” he finished, slightly out of breath.

Before I could say anything to assure Sam I appreciated his efforts and relieve Dean of his embarrassment, there was a knock on my window. Startled, I jumped a little before facing the window where Alyssa stood waiting. Turning to look at the boys, I thanked them again for the amazing present and then opened the door to get out of the car and say hi to her. As I was closing the door, I heard Dean say my name.

“Just a second.” I said to Alyssa before opening the door again and sticking my head in. “What’s up?” I asked.

“I was just wondering when and where I should be picking you up,” he replied. “Oh, right. I didn’t even think about that.” I said, turning to Alyssa to figure out the details. “Clearly.” He teased. I looked back at him, sarcastic comment at the ready, but I saw the twinkle in his eye and knew he was just joking. I shushed him and closed the door, turning to once again face Alyssa.

“I can drive you back, it’s no problem,” she assured me. 

“Are you sure? Dean doesn’t have anything else he needs to be doing, and I know he likes to do it anyway. He’s a bit protective like that. The first time we dropped Sam off at a friend’s I thought he was going to sit outside the house the whole time.” I told her, smiling at the memory.

“It’s really no problem. I don’t have any definite plans for the day so I wouldn’t know what to tell him anyway,” she said. 

“Ok…” I trailed off, giving her one last chance to change her mind. She gave me a look, clearly stating that she wouldn’t so I passed the information on to Dean.

“You don’t even have a guess about when you’ll be done?” He asked. I knew he liked to have a timeline so if someone wasn’t back when they were expected he would know something was wrong. If he didn’t have any schedule to follow, he’d spend the whole time worrying, unsure if something had happened or we just weren’t done yet. 

“Well I have to be back in time for movie night,” I reminded him with a wink in Sam’s direction, “so I won’t be gone any later than… say 8:30? That should give us time to watch a couple of movies before Sam passes out.”

“Yeah, ok.” Dean relented, slightly less on edge. “Have fun,” he smiled. I closed the door and watched them drive off.

“Are you ready to do some shopping?” Alyssa asked with a grin.

~~~~~

“You have to have a swimsuit!” Alyssa insisted as we walked by racks of them at Kohl’s. 

“Not if you never go swimming, you don’t.” I countered.

“But what if you do go swimming? What are you going to wear then?” She argued. 

“I don’t know. I’m sure if the opportunity came up, I’d just go buy one.” I told her. 

“Then why not buy one now?” She asked.

“Because,” I sighed. “We move around a lot. We’re not exactly hitting up five-star hotels with pools or renting homes that have one. I think the last time I went swimming was when I was 12 and the house we were renting had a pond.”

“Ok, well I have a pool, it’s the middle of summer in Louisiana, and I might invite you over to swim sometime. Besides, I’m buying so you can’t really argue that much.” She said, flipping her strawberry blonde hair as she turned and pulled me towards the swimwear.

“That’s a nice bracelet,” she commented, looking at my wrist where I was half-heartedly searching through a rack of one-piece swimsuits. 

“Yeah,” I smiled. “Sam and Dean gave it to me for my birthday.”

“It’s pretty. I didn’t think boys were any good at finding decent jewelry.” She said as she moved on to the next rack. She didn’t like the one-pieces anyway and had only been humoring me, ironic since I was only humoring her about the swimsuits in general. 

“I swear Dean has some sort of sixth sense for what people will like. Well,” I corrected, “not people. But me and Sam.”

“This one! You have to try this one!” Alyssa said excitedly, breaking me out of my thoughts. I looked to where she was holding a white and blue two-piece. “I know you didn’t want a two-piece, but this isn’t a bikini. It doesn’t show much more than a one-piece would.” Seeing my hesitation, she continued. “Just try it on. If you hate it, we’ll put it back.”

“Yes!” She cheered, seeing my resignation. She handed the suit to me and led the way to the changing rooms.

It was definitely a nice-looking suit, I’d give her that much. The top piece was thick enough all the way through that there was no danger of anything showing. It had a clasp in the back and three strings to tie around my neck, two white and one robin’s egg blue. The bottom piece started like a normal bikini bottom, but thicker. Above the hips it cut in to cover only the front of my torso, leaving my back and sides exposed, and went up to the bottom of my ribs. There were three strings encircling my back, keeping the material up. It was decorated with flowers in shades of blue, and as much as I liked it – although I’d never admit it to Alyssa – I didn’t think I would be comfortable wearing it in public.

“Are you ready yet?” I heard her ask through the door.

“Kind of. I have it on, but I don’t know if I want to come out,” I admitted. 

“Come on, you can’t look that bad,” she said.

“It’s not that.” I told her. “I’m just not comfortable showing this much skin. I live in jeans, you know. The only reason I’m wearing shorts is because I might actually die from this heat.”

“Just come out. No one’s going to see you. I promise there’s no one else around,” she encouraged.

I sighed before opening the door and peering my head around. I was met with an unimpressed look. “Alright, I’m coming.” I relented. I stepped out of the changing stall and was greeted with a wolf whistle from Alyssa. “Cut it out!” I blushed.

“Why? You look great!” she exclaimed. “As much as I like that bracelet, it really doesn’t match the-” she cut off. 

“What?” I asked nervously.

“Umm… did you find your tattoo yet?”

I was a little shocked. It was an awfully personal question to be asking someone you’d only known for a couple of weeks. “No. Why?” I asked a little defensively. She nodded toward my left side where my hand was hanging by my hip. I impulsively lifted it to my face, scanning for the name. 

“Not your hand," she said.

I slowly looked down to my left side just above my hip where, just as she said, I could see the top of thick black letters peeking over the swimsuit.

~~~~~

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Dean asked, pausing the movie. We were halfway through our second movie of the night, Mission Impossible, and while I was enjoying it, I couldn’t seem to sit still. I was sat between the two boys, Dean’s arm resting on the back of the couch behind my head, our usual seating situation on movie nights. Sam was slouched over, starting to drift off. He could never seem to stay awake for more than one movie.

“What? Nothing’s wrong. Why do you think something’s wrong?” I asked him. 

“Well, you haven’t sat still for more than five minutes at a time and I can see the wheels spinning in your head. You know you can talk to me about anything right?” He sounded genuinely concerned. 

“I know,” I sighed.

“Nothing happened, right? You’ve seemed a little off since you got back.” He pushed, not for the information he knew I wasn’t ready to give, but for assurance that I was alright. 

“I’m fine,” I told him honestly. “It’s just… I found my tattoo while we were trying on clothes. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, figure out how I feel,” I confessed.

“Oh.” Was his only response. I could tell he wanted to press for more information, but he stayed quiet.

~~~~~

“I can’t look at it. I don’t want to know what it says. What do I do?” I asked. My breath was coming faster and I was starting to panic.

“Hey. Hey! Jenna! Look at me. Deep breath.” Alyssa calmly instructed, demonstrating and breathing with me until my breathing was back to normal. “You’re going to have to see it sometime. It’s unavoidable. Right now, it doesn’t change anything. It just gives you a name. You can do whatever you want with that name once you have it. It doesn’t decide anything for you.”

I knew she was right and steeled myself to look at it, Alyssa waiting patiently. Carefully, I pushed the swimsuit strap down just enough to reveal the name underneath.

DEAN

Chapter 4

[oonajaeadira]

Hi friend!! I hope your 2024 is off to a great start!! For the writing goal asks, how about these three?

👻🐌💥

Also, while I’ve got your ear, I need you to know that I’m still thinking about your Max secret Santa story and how utterly beautiful it was. I have a whole lot more to say about it, but for now please know that I loved it to bits and pieces.

ALYSSA

These are great questions. Thank you!!!!

I'm so so happy you liked that Max story because...

👻 Is there a new genre you'd like to write?

It's not new really, because two installments already exist, but horror romance. With that fellow Max up there. Creepy-but-soft other-than-human with-eternal-longing Max hits all of my buttons.

.

🐌 What is one of your smallest writing goals?

Really it's just to write more. I kinda fell off the wagon in 2023. I think just because I did a couple of remounts (read: easier shows) that I didn't see the year as busy, but it was. So far I have a little less on my plate for the majority of 2024 and I think that will help. I would really love to finish my year of tropes. Perhaps it won't be a year-of anymore, but just a collection and a sometime challenge. I really did try my best though!

.

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

Right now I'm excited to dig into my modern dom!Pero piece. It's been coming at me out of order and with some weird twists, but now that I've written a scene I'm very excited about, I know what i need to do to make the rest of it go.

I've also been dreaming about the Winter chapter of Leave Off Your Wandering, especially now that it's actually winter and I can more easily imagine snuggling up with a big bear of a Joel while it storms outside....

.

writers goals for a new year

[saltyr3mix]

Fic updates!!!!

We've got a long list in store for you all tonight!!! So lets get started!

Starting off with Chapter 2 of that new fic, "When this house don't feel like home":

Rat scotts in the traffic series and is not having a great time. He comes across martin and his day becomes both better and worse simultaneously.

Next up is Chapter 2 of, "Played My Game (Hell Now Your In It):

Sparrow searches fruitlessly for his identity and makes a few new friends. While slowly gettign introduced to the concept and world of heros.

Now! A very, VERY Interesting occurence of a brand new fic with two chapters already out! Its a fic of a fic, so i'd recommend reading tales from robert aeor high by m0ther_of_p3arl before hand so you know what's going on! (And also because its a really good fic! <3) Or just jump right in to the retelling of its ending in, "A look for the lonely":

After Several of Owens friends get pulled of the streets he gathers a rag tag group of Outsiders to help look for them. Unfortunately hes unaware that someone within the group is also being manipulated by the woman behind it all and is tasked with leading them to their doom. but with high stakes on the line and a bit of determination it might just be possible to escape all of these death traps and find a way back to a normal life for everyone!

And now. For the moment many of you have waited for....like genuinely waited for, for like 2 months (i am so sorry about that). we have the 20th chapter of "To learn From the tragedies" :

Featuring the long awaited Morning Glory Reunion!!! A little bot of backstory, a Little bit of crime, and a lot of found family as Mike, the triplets, and alyssa discuss their current situation and even come up with a temporary solution and plan.

Woo! that is.....a lot! I hope you all enjoy my writing and i will be back next time! hopefully!.....i might need another break if im honest.....

Anyway I love everyone who interacts with me and my fics! hoping you all have the best of the day!

[princessconsuela120]

Chapter two: Heart to Heart—❃

Series masterlist

Chapter Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex and drugs

Authors note: enjoy guys!!!

—❃

Alyssa wasn’t sure why the army seemed like the right thing to do. It was like there were 100 other possibilities for her to go after being on the run for murder. She could become a drug dealer, drug addict, become an alcoholic. There are many options for her, but the army just seemed right. Besides, after she was deemed community service and kept from seeing Fezco, Alyssa pretty much gave up on living a happy life. The second she got into combat she missed him. She thought of him all the time and wrote him letters every day. She didn’t send them, but she did write them, and she intended to give them to him some day. She just didn’t know when.

Her mom decided to move them to Boston after the incident, Alyssa had no choice but to follow her. And when she realized she didn’t want to live with her mom and her awful stepdad anymore, she went to the army. Well, that and the note that fezco sent her after he got out of the hospital for his gun wound. If you asked her Alyssa would say she had no idea what letter you were talking about, but she knew every word of it.

Dear Alyssa, 

   I don’t want to see you again, ever. Because of you I killed someone, I can’t take that back and it’s made me hate you. So whatever you feel about me you should know I don’t feel it in return. Please leave me alone.

    Sincerely,

                Fez.

Ps, good luck with everything.

She remembered every last word. It seemed as though seeing fezco again brought that back up into the air.

“Damn, fezco said all that?” I said, sighing as Alyssa recalled the note to me. She pressed her lips together nervously.

“Yeah, I was shocked too.” She said with a sigh.

“Are you sure? I mean that doesn’t sound like him.”

“It was signed with his signature and everything. He wants nothing to do with me.”

I shook my head, not believing it. In a world where Fezco no longer loves Alyssa we had nothing left to hope for. If I was hopeful to get sober there was no way Fez didn’t love her. Or else all Hope would be lost.

“That boy loves you. I mean, he talks about you all the time…”

“Then why would he send it rue.” She interrupted, staring at me with a neutral expression as she fought back tears.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Hey, I’m here for you anyway. How was rehab.” She asked, redirecting the conversation as i shrugged.

How was rehab? What a great question.

“It was ass.”

“Really?” She chuckled. “Cant say I’m surprised.”

“How was the army.” I asked, making her laugh.

“Ass.”

We both laughed at each other, laying back on my bed as we did. It was nice to see Alyssa again, I forgot how good it felt to be with her. Every time she’s visit while in the army was time I cherished. 

“I missed you.” She said, smiling over at me as I smiled back.

“I missed you too. So did Lexi, and Fez, even if you think he didn’t.”

She looked out into the distance as if she was looking for something, or reliving something. Maybe she was, maybe she was stuck in her years with fezco, I didn’t know. 

“Yeah.”

[tessatales]

The Ressurection of Love: Chapter One (Spencer x Original Female Character)

Theme/Warnings: Typical Criminal minds/BAU stuff. There will be detail in some chapters about Unsubs/murders etc. (some may be from the show, other I will have made up) but trigger warnings for those sorts of things will be found at the top of the chapters that contain said themes.

Pairing: Dr Spencer Reid x Original Female Character

Word count: 990(ish)

A/N: Hello! So I've had this idea for a while, but I was just trying to get as many chapters fleshed out and ready to post before actually announcing/posting it. So I really hope you enjoy this fic as it has been a labour of love for a while now. Onto the fic!

Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

- - - - - - - - - - -

Spencer had often wondered why he bothered paying rent. With him spending so much time at the BAU or away with the team, the four walls of his apartment were merely an expensive means of holding his possessions rather than anything resembling a home. But he tried his best anyway, adding small touches to the apartment in an attempt to make it homely.

Loud thuds from outside Spencer’s apartment one evening brought him out of his late night rabbit hole of research. Rubbing his eyes, he stretched in his seat, feeling the satisfying pops that came from his joints before checking the time.

11:45pm

Another series of thuds followed by a woman’s voice shouting ‘Shit!’ from the corridor made him finally investigate. Checking the peep hole, Spencer could see the apartment across from his was open, and a small figure was scrambling frantically across the floor in pursuit of something he couldn’t see.

“Is everything alright out here?” Spencer said, popping his head around the door and taking in the sight before him.

In the corridor sat a woman he’d never seen before.

To his knowledge the apartment next door had been vacant for as long as he had lived there, although he’d suspected more than once that he may have had many neighbours who had come and gone between his stints away.

“I’m so sorry! I’m not usually this clumsy but you know when you’re just having one of those days?” The woman said from the floor as she frantically attempted to pick up what seemed to be her escaped groceries.

“Oh, bad day?” Spencer said, slipping the catch onto his front door before stepping fully out to help.

“The exact opposite actually, I had my induction to my new job this afternoon, ready for my first day tomorrow. So I thought I had plenty of time to get groceries and do some unpacking this morning” explained the woman, her face half covered by her dark hair as she picked up tins and loose vegetables.

“Let me guess, it didn’t go to plan?” Spencer said, wondering briefly why he seemed to be invested in a conversation with a woman he didn’t even know.

The woman scoffed.

“Nope! I got so distracted unpacking last night as well as skimming through the induction files for work that I didn’t wake up till noon. I just had enough time to make myself presentable before I had to set off” she replied with a shake of her head.

“If I'd managed my time better, we wouldn’t be dealing with exploding grocery bags at nearly midnight,” she said, seeming to freeze in place before looking up from the floor. For the first time since exiting his apartment, Spencer was able to see her face.

Pretty.

“Oh I’m sorry, here I am talking your ear off and making you help me with my stupid shopping and I’ve not even introduced myself!” Sitting up straight, the woman smoothed out her suit jacket before extending her hand towards Spencer.

“ I’m Alyssa - I’m your new neighbour”

“Spencer, nice to meet you.”  He replied, taking her small hand and shaking it.

When the final food product was safe and sound in Alyssa’s apartment hallway, the pair stood up and Spencer was able to see her fully for the first time.

Her skirt was wrinkled from sitting on the floor, and her shoulder length blue black hair seemed to have escaped from its clip that sat at the base of her neck. Spencer also noted how short his new neighbour seemed to be, her head most likely only coming up to just below his chin.

Clearing his thoughts, Spencer scrambled for something to say.

“Well I hope you have a good first day tomorrow” Spencer said as he retreated backwards towards his front door. Alyssa nodded with a smile.

“Thank you, I think I’ll do alright. It’s an internal transfer so it’s not like it’s a completely new job. And the team I’ll be joining seem nice enough from what I’ve heard.” Alyssa replied, leaning against her door frame.

“And the best part is, thanks to this apartment, the Bureau’s headquarters is only a stone's throw away; I had to leave nearly an hour early when I was in New York, I could probably walk there here”

Spencer froze mid step.

“I’m sorry, did you just say the Bureau?” Spencer said slowly, trying to process if there were any other organizations that used the word.

“Yeah, I’m an FBI agent. I don’t tend to lead with that when meeting new people. You either end up scaring them off or making them too eager to talk” Alyssa said with shrugged. Spencer couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips, startling the pair of them.

“What’s so funny?” Alyssa said, and Spencer noticed her shoulders tightening minutely as she crossed her arms across her chest.

“Sorry! It’s just a small world. I work for the FBI too. I just found the statistics of us living across from each other amusing.” Spencer said quickly, trying to smooth out any misunderstanding his outburst may have caused. Alyssa seemed to visibly relax.

“No way! Well I guess you have a point there, maybe I’ll see you around the office then” Alyssa said, dropping her arms to rest in the pockets of her suit jacket.

Looking at this stranger; his new neighbour, Spencer noted that her obvious openness and enthusiasm was easy for him to return. He smiled.

“If not in the office maybe we’ll see each other in the halls.” He replied with a shrug. Alyssa nodded.

“Anyways, I’ll leave you to sort your food. Wouldn’t want to be up too late for your first day” Spencer said, waving awkwardly at her.

“Good point, see you around then Spencer” Alyssa said, returning the wave before closing her door softly behind her.

Spencer wandered back into his apartment, not bothering to go back to his research and instead making a beeline for his bed. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he was looking forward to having a new neighbour.

[rmwb-fanfics]

7 & 17 from the weird writer ask list please!

Oooo ok ok ok

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

When you form an attachment to the characters you’re writing. Sure that seems like, really generic, but you get to know them and when you’re really really paying attention to them, they start to make their own decisions. You understand them on such a personal, intimate level, that it’s like, legitimately hard to put them through shit. It’s just fun to sit back and realize you’ve written something that compelling to you, and that makes you feel this strongly. It’s nice seeing how other people interpret the character’s actions, and how because you have their thoughts in your head, you can sort of see how the outsider’s perspective looks at it. Idk, it’s just interesting. The same goes for the world you create. This spans away from fanfiction but a lot of my original works have these complex worlds and politics and it becomes an character in and of itself. Okay I’ll shut up now.

17. Minutiae of your WIP. Little details, lore, things that I know about etc.

I’ve got two WIPs but one of them is really simple and essentially post-war canon compliant so we’ll skip over A Short Life.

Regretfully Uncaring:

Fucking hell where do I start.

Remus and Tonks write together a lot. Since they released their book on werewolves, (which Remus is now credited) they’ve been writing up a sequel of sorts, going into how to solve the political troubles and corrupt legislation the ICW keeps in place. Anyway, their relationship has done nothing but grow since Harry and Ginny went missing, and Tonks has a hunch that Ginny was working on becoming an animagus, something she’s kept close to her chest.

Greyback sees potential in Dudley to rise the ranks and become a fourth member of his little top of the pyramid club. Of course, Dudley only assumes this is a lie to get Dudley to think he’s important when reslly he’s just there to lure Harry, but that’s actually not true. Greyback likes Dudley, and wants him on his side for more than just Potter purposes.

Voldemort went to Ginny’s grave out of a legitimate sense of loss. This is, sort of, clarified in the fic later, but because it’s from Ginny’s perspective (unreliable narrator) it feels like Voldemort is insincere.

Daphne notices Ron because of his nose. That is what initially got her paying attention to him.

Harry’s crush on Elizabeth melting into his crush for Ginny has a deeper meaning and I hope people catch onto that eventually.

Audrey Williams, who eventually goes on to marry Percy, favourite subject was astronomy. Her favourite planet is Neptune.

Ted Tonks is currently sitting in a bar in Northern Ireland.

Remus collects vinyls, even though he doesn’t like playing them. It drives him absolutely mad that Sirius plays them, and his biggest annoyance with Potter Manor’s destruction is that his collection was destroyed in the fire.

Dobby did indeed die in the fire of Hogwarts.

Charlie Scamander, (Alyssa and Charlie’s daughter who I’ve neglected to mention in almost 20 chapters) has her grandmother’s voice in her head. Tina, unfortunately, is losing her hold over the position, and Snape’s is coming to replace it.

Death in Regretfully Uncaring is frustrated with Harry and Ginny because for her, she’d only just tracked them down in another reality, that of A Short Life Full of Long Years. So, in some ways, both of my fics are connected in that sense, though it is never mentioned nor eluded to.