#i literally have no words on how much i love this little fictional nugget | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hwaightme · 2 years ago

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VICKY MY LOVE, THE BIGGEST EVER HUGS TO YOU!! <3<3<3 Thank you so very much, from the bottom of my heart and from my entire soul, for supporting me and encouraging me and for sharing your thoughts all throughout, I am always so delighted to see your comments and reblogs and love to talk with you, and really... I am just gonna *goes in corner and sobs a lil because of love and support felt and gathers adoration to give right back*; Thank you so much for liking the niche details and the exploration of the different careers~~ I am someone who is very much fond of having special nuggets that are truly representative, and respectful of set lifestyles and professional endeavours, so this comment means the entire world (and beyond) to me <3

Aaaaah thank you so much <3 <3 <3 First off, so dang overjoyed you liked the ending and the reactions of all the guys, because really, how they would respond to the surprise is also very unique to each of the members, so I tried to carry that across :) I am so very happy that you liked how Hongjoong was written here!!! I absolutely adore his personality and how he transitions from one 'vibe' to another depending on the situation, so to hear that you liked the interactions that he was part of, and how he met reader, it really means a lot to me, thank you!! (also yes omg that group chat is highkey lethal ahah that is where all the receipts are kept; yeah I would imagine that they would, after the gift collab, need a bit more time to reaaaaally get to know one another, but since some already had the chance to become friends it may be sooner than later :)))

WE ARE GONNA GRAB MEGAPHONES AND GO TO SEONGHWA AND SCREAM PRAISE AT HIM BECAUSE BOI IN THE WORDS OF RIHANNA YOU BETTER SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DIAMOND (also I am so so happy you liked the monologue and generally how reader approached the matter!!! I find that it is easy, at least from what is seen irl and in fiction, for people to fall into playing the blame game in conflicts, but here there should just be love and affection ;~; pls we all need hugs mkaay)

Yesssss so basically my thoughts with that is to pretty much release what it would be like texting with each of the guys :) a little bit of mildly unhinged fluff just to keep the soul going really, but would love to hear your thoughts on that <3 (totally agree if everyone was mixed it would make literally all brains explode ahahah; so each one would be separate)

(thank you for tuning into my rambly TED Talk ahaha apologies for that <3, much love and big hugs, and onwards to new fun series, oneshots, and a YF 'OVA' lol)

Your fan, Seonghwa (part 2, series finale)

(part 1) (your fan ml)

🛸 pairing: seonghwa x nerdfluencer & physicist!reader 🛸 genre: romance, fluff, mutual pining 🛸 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if seonghwa was stanning you 🛸 wordcount: 6.0k 🛸 warnings/tags: language, noraebang chaos, mc knows too much, seonghwa is a star, IT ALL COMES TOGETHER, crossover hours, is it christmas again? 🛸 taglist: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @izuijin @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @i-luvsang @jcngh0-hq @black--awsum @jackinmyarea 🛸 a/n: HI! THIS IS THE END (hold your breath and count to 10) oh my word... I am so unbelievably grateful for all of you, for your love and support, for inspiring and for believing. Without you, none of this would have happened. Much love, and biggest hugs, and stay tuned for more to come in the future!!

You needed to act quick if you were going to solve anything. Time was against you, considering that in a month’s time ATEEZ were going to be going on tour, and you needed to write another chapter of your thesis that discussed experimental set up and some predictive modelling.

As you watched your computer crash yet another time, deleting the data that you had implemented into the physics simulator engine, you decided to give up for the evening and figure out how to get your plan, your life experiment, running.

Your thoughts had drifted to trying to immerse yourself in Seonghwa’s world. You were clueless when it came to music, and aside from listening, did not do much else. But what you were always ready for, was others’ enthusiasm, You wanted to see that glint in Seonghwa’s eyes return to him, you wanted him to be himself and to be proud of what he had achieved.

You were no stranger to creative ruts, to self-doubt and trying to pretend to be someone you were not. It was almost a rite of passage in STEM, and you could only imagine how intense it could be in the creative and liberal arts. In that state, one tries to remove themselves from what they can actually do, steps away from that they have overcome and believe that the work of others is something they need to measure themselves against.

This was what you had observed in Seonghwa, and this was disconcerting. Of course, you appreciated the fact that every time you called, and met, he could impress you with his newly acquired knowledge in your subject… but at the end of the day… it was something you already knew. It was something that was second nature to you, and removed his own beauty from the conversation. You stared liking Seonghwa not because he was an astrophysics enthusiast (especially since when he tried to be, it was evident that it was giving him unnecessary amount of stress), but because he was himself. That adorable nerd sitting in front of a camera having the time of his life assembling Lego. That more than cute man who was over the moon when you were raving with him about the lightsaber he had as part of his collection. The wonderful, brilliant, Seonghwa who had so much to share with you, so much to teach you, but instead was hiding his genius away. The last thing you ever wanted to do was to change him, so for the sake of humanity and the universe not exploding, it was time to act.

After a quick ideation session, your intentions and your plan was clear – but, you needed to go to a more public space for it, and every fibre of your being was screaming THIS IS A RISK. But a risk you were willing to take, and were ready to go through every mitigation strategy in the risk assessment framework that you had drawn up on eight post-its you had stuck side by side on your desk. Though, prior to doing any of that, being the certified adult and professional researcher you were, you needed permission for this to go ahead. You had already heard from Seonghwa about the number of times that his members had caused unnecessary chaos, and you were not about to join the ‘horsemen of the ateezpocalypse’ ranks. You needed to call the captain.

You were lucky that most of your friends had an equally strange schedule that made one question what time zone they actually lived in, so your close bestie who owned ‘dream-ity’ and had the patience of a saint to be able to handle none other than Jung Wooyoung, had sent over Hongjoong’s number at lightning speed, though not without trying to figure out why exactly you needed it. She already knew that you were ‘seeing’ Seonghwa, but none of the details. Neither you, nor the eldest member, apparently, were cracking about anything more ‘tea-esque’ that was going on between you.

She did initially offer to send you her boyfriend’s number but considering that Seonghwa had explicitly stated that that certain someone was the equivalent of his personal sleep paralysis demon and the real reason why his hair for the comeback was stark white (“it is not dye nor bleach, it is Marie Antoinette syndrome”), you politely refused, insisting to ‘go see the captain’, channelling your inner Karen.

Seemed that Hongjoong was also an interesting character who was able to respond to you in thirty seconds, at four in the morning. At least your friend had an early opening shift and needed to travel, this man was just night owling like you. Little did you know that this was the case because Hongjoong already had your number after ‘lovingly’ interrogating Seonghwa after your first meeting.

You had opened up the conversation by introducing yourself, stating your interests, and apologising for the disturbance. You had also inquired whether it would be possible to set up either a meeting or a call with Hongjoong, to discuss the details of your proposition, seeing as you needed approval and it may be easier to explain verbally. Hongjoong was pretty straightforward in his response:

<hongble telescope> call in 2 min?

<you> yes please thank you!

And in exactly two minutes, you were ‘face to face’ with none other than the captain of ATEEZ, who appeared to be located in his studio, hunched over just a little and in dim lighting. To be frank, you were not any better – you were still in your office, illuminated just by a couple of desk lamps, and were also gremlin-like in your posture. It was odd how, in some senses you two were alike.

“So, how is the woman who is making Seonghwa turn into a physics student?” Hongjoong joked, though it did not make you cheer up one bit. You felt a pang of guilt in your heart, and decided to launch straight in.

“About that. I have been quite concerned about Seonghwa recently.”

“In relation to physics?”

“Yes.”

Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair and looked off into the distance momentarily.

“Well, he has been kind of… out of it lately. I mean, when it comes to stages and stuff he is chill, because you know, professional and music is his passion and all that, but in the dorms, you are right he is a lot more isolated.”

“Yes, well, I am to blame for that, and I want to fix it.”

“Since when are you to blame? If anything, it is his choice so he should like… wake up.”

“Well, it is hard to kick away something that someone wants to do subconsciously, and I do not want to come across as the centre of the universe by no means, but when a person does something to try and impress you, you cannot help but feel responsible.”

“You know what, I like your approach. That’s admirable. Okay, then, go on. I am interested to hear what you are thinking.”

“Well, I want to prove to Seonghwa that he does not need to pretend to be someone who he is not. I really could not care less whether he knows anything about my line of work or not, what I want is for him to be happy.”

“You are just green flagging your way into my grumpy old man heart.”

“How are you old, Hongjoong? You are just caring-”

“Okay Y/N you are just going through a check list of how to make Hongjoong happy at this point.” He grinned and exclaimed, intertwining his fingers and leaning back in the spinning chair.

“Well, hah, I guess it is easier to do when you mean it. So, well, my point here is that… I need to take him to this one location that is a little bit more public, but I can assure you I will do everything within my power to make it safe.”

“Hold on, hold on, do you need to do that?”

“It is critical. There needs to be a little bit of a shock to the system but it is only beneficial.”

“Okay, now I am not so approving. How do I even know I can trust you? Being nice is one thing, being reliable and trustworthy is a whole other area. What is the deal? What do you know, or what can you do to prove that it will be okay?”

Frankly, Hongjoong was already pretty confident in the fact that he would be able to entrust Seonghwa to you – the eldest member’s heart was already in your hands, so what was the problem with just letting you two go for it? Hongjoong wondered whether he was being stopped by his frazzled nerves, which had been put through challenge after challenge with each of the members – even himself¸ in this chaotic journey to find and fight for love. But he needed to act in the role of responsible leader, so back to listening to you. How were you doing to impress him?

You needed to think fast. Here, every word mattered. Expressing your affection and concern was easy enough, since it was at the forefront of your mind, but here you had some six dimensional chess to play, and your opponent was a master – taking one look at the ATEEZ lore was enough, and how it was going to play out was going to be quite impressive…

Oh.

That was right.

You knew the secret of the lore.

That’s it.

You thanked your ability to hyperfixate for helping you go over all the diaries, the interviews and the albums and mvs and shorts that were linked to the story of ATEEZ. You were no stranger to extensive lore and saga-like evolution. You were a Star Wars fan, for goodness’ sake. On top of that, why had you studied the theory of relativity and quantum physics if you were never going to use it for the most abstract and obscure reasons? You felt as though you had just gathered all the infinity stones together and were about to snap an infinity glove. You looked straight into the camera with a soft smile gracing your lips, and began.

“Well, I am not sure about physical proof, but in terms of theoretical knowledge and carrying on the story of ATEEZ, I could talk you though a couple of my ideas that may or may not serve as proof for my understanding of the depth of your group, the importance of paying attention to the details, and future-forward ideation.”

Hongjoong did not look particularly impressed, since he had listened to enough ATINY explain to him some outrageous interpretations of the lore, that were anything but correct. But he was intrigued enough to motion to you to go on. And that, was when he had signed up for the shock of a lifetime.

You launched into a monologue that first, briefly summarised the relationship between every era, every little diversion and even the selection of concepts for stages. You were showcasing that really, to you, it had been simple all along, and you had been merely enjoying how they were executing what was already out in the open. When you transitioned smoothly into expressing your musings on future releases and the avenue down which the story will go, Hongjoong was dead quiet, and even stopped rocking in his chair. His jaw began to drop as you revealed a specific detail that was meant to be a plot twist – he had envisioned ATINY’s reaction so many times, and had been keeping this a secret even from his members, and here you were, saying it right back to him. Just who were you?

He was equal parts impressed and terrified, since you were a walking computer of ATEEZ knowledge. You could basically compromise the entirety of KQ with the amount of information you held. There was no choice now, it was not even a matter of trust – it was basically essential that you joined them at least for the sake of being silenced. He recalled how he had said to Seonghwa that he expected you would know at least a bit of the lore to a high level – well, he had never expected you to be able to lead a discussion on it. Hongjoong now desperately wanted to invite you to a chat with him and the CEO. This was essential for the business.

“Well, these are just my thoughts and feelings, of course. So take it with a pinch of salt.” You finished, smoothing the creases at the bottom of your shirt, a habit you had formed to calm your nerves during presentations.

“That is one big pinch of salt, Y/N. I think I will have to have you sign an NDA for that. And jeez, this has probably been the most original way someone had ever pledged allegiance to the ATEEZ mission… ever.” He whispered, suddenly looking a LOT more tired than he did at the beginning of your conversation.

“Thank… you?”

“Yeah… uh… so… where was it you wanted to go?” he recalled that he had not even asked what the public space was.

“Noraebang.”

“What the fu- did you actually just make my soul leave my body to ask if you could go sing some songs with Seonghwa?” he face palmed and massaged his temples. Damn, you really were a STEM person. Very careful. Though he could vibe with that – Seonghwa was not kidding when he said you were a mature and responsible human.

“Uh… well I needed to check with you because this is a venture outside of more secluded locations, I needed to hear your thoughts on whether it would be okay for Seonghwa to appear in a noraebang, how and when it would be possible-”

“My one request is you don’t talk lore with the guy, because I still want to maintain some authority. And ask him to take you to KQ at some point after, and I can arrange a meeting for then. I am not kidding about the NDA.”

“Sure. Thank you. Then the rest is… up to me?”

“Yes, go wild. Well, not wild, but I assume you know what a ‘safe and secure’ wild is?”

“That is basically what physics is.”

“Understandable-”

“-have a great day.”

“Yeah you are a walking green flag in my eyes, Y/N. I’ll text you some of the times when Seonghwa is free this week so you can organise the noraebang date, m’kay?”

“Perfect, thank you so much!”

When you ended the call, Hongjoong yeeted himself onto the sofa, face down, and began to run through the conversation that he would have to have with management – ‘big reveal an astrophysicist knows more than the group about the storyline that the group follows’.

Seonghwa was not enjoying the continuous winking from Hongjoong, not one bit. In addition, the fact that, upon receiving some kind of message on his phone, Wooyoung entered full sneak and snoop mode and kept on infiltrating the eldest members’ room – fifteen times in the last hour, to be exact, did not bode well for Seonghwa’s sanity. Though at least the latter member appeared to still be clueless, and pestering Hongjoong more than him.

And it only built up come the time of Seonghwa’s date with you. You had suggested to meet right outside the dorms, saying that it was going to be a surprise. His mind went right back to high school when there had been pop quizzes and surprise assessments – totally not emotional trauma speaking for him there. He recalled you had talked about some kind of conference, or convention related to space research – what if you were going to take him there? As much as he was into seeing you be very excited, and he was interested in the reality that inspired some of his favourite things on the planet, his brain would erupt or turn into goo from that much content.

He already had a hard time reviewing the online flashcards that he had created for whenever you would mention some kind of concept or word that he did not quite understand. Though you did not do it often, and never, ever did the horrid thing of overusing complicated terms just to put yourself above someone, he still went out of his way to study the thing that appeared to come naturally to your after so many years of practice, study and beyond impressive dedication to the craft. He felt that you deserved more than he could offer, that you were on your own gorgeous wavelength, and that he could only dream to reach it – if it could happen at least sometimes, that would be enough.

“Dude you are actually scary, why are you looking at that?” San slinked right up to him, pointing at the screen where there was a diagram explaining redshift and blueshift.

“Because I am ascending, San.”

“Hwa, you are not a scientist so why are you-” Mingi, who was in the process of trying to sneak a snack from the kitchen in his pocket, called out, but was quickly cut off by Hongjoong, who was standing right by his room’s door.

“-because he is respectful. If you guys had as much dedication as the guy then maybe, just maybe you would be able to carry the lore or at least pretend to understand it.”

“Why so salty?” San interjected, allowing Mingi to complete his mission without being spotted.

“Excuse you that’s called being well-seasoned.” Hongjoong retorted, not being quite sure what he meant but at least it was not salty.

“Ah yes, something that a near-retired gent such as yourself and a Thanksgiving turkey have in common.” Wooyoung appeared out of his room, shooting finger guns at the captain.

“Nah turkey doesn’t do it.” Yeosang called out, only having tuned into the conversation once something bird related was mentioned.

“Yes you guys, we have all converted to ‘blue bird’~” Yunho imitated Yeosang’s line in Halazia, deepening his voice. He was currently splayed out on the living room couch, trying to control his rage as he was repeatedly losing to Jongho at FIFA.

“We are not EATING the BLUE BIRD you GUYS!” Hongjoong sighed and tried to end the conversation.

Seonghwa sent him a grateful glance for the effective de-railing. As the members disappeared back into their respective corners of the dorm, he settled back down into one of the dining room chairs, only to be joined by Yunho, who decided to ‘take a break because he was not really feeling the game at the moment’, much to Jongho’s amusement.

“Hey… all okay?” Yunho whispered, making sure that others would not overhear their conversation.

“Yeah.” Seonghwa locked his phone and placed it face down. He tried to muster a smile, but it was a little challenging given that he could not figure out what he was going to face this evening.

“How are things with her?”

“Good. Thank you for driving me those last couple of times by the way.” Seonghwa tried to bring up the positive. Yunho, though he was able to choose violence, ended up being incredibly supportive of Seonghwa and his seeing you. To the point where he was competing with Hongjoong for best advice giver and most encouraging homie.

“Oh no problem at all. It its just awesome to see you so smitten, really. Just let me know if you need anything else, like ever. I’ll be there.”

“It really means a lot. But today she is taking me to some mystery location apparently.”

“Well you know hyung and I are right here, just sound the alarm and we will speed to wherever.”

“What would I do without you, Yunho?”

“Take the taxi.”

“Respectfully, bruh.”

“What, am I wrong?”

“Nah.”

“Good, let’s stop being sappy and get you ready, yeah?”

“READY FOR WHAT?” of course Wooyoung had to have listened into the conversation, and was more than ready to learn the ins and outs of what kind of stuff has been going on with Seonghwa.

“Seonghwa, do you want to-”

“It’s a date, Woo. It’s a date.”

“CAN I COME?”

“NO, YOU CANNOT!?!?!”

At least now he did not need to spend the next two hours stressing, but instead fighting a barrage of questions coming from all directions at once. At least Hongjoong and Yunho were already in the know, and Yeosang and Jongho were just not bothered enough and respected a thing called privacy (also known as – they will not hear the end of this from Wooyoung later anyways, so why bother now). So, he was getting it easy.

Out of all the places in Seoul where you could have taken him out on a date, a noraebang was probably one of the furthest down on the list. You had never explicitly expressed any interest in performing music or signing or… anything to do with you personally engaging in the art. You had given him the impression of exclusively being a listener, rather than someone who would belt songs into a microphone in front of a TV screen for fun. But he was not complaining. This was right up his alley.

You had taken every precaution, even if it meant paying a higher booking fee, checking the blueprints of the place to make sure you went down corridors with less people, choosing a noraebang that was primarily automated with little staff… you wanted this evening to be about Seonghwa and him having fun, rather than him having to worry about everything and everyone.

It was nothing short of brilliant to watch him as he ambled down to the room under the neon lights, excited at every piece of décor, and poking you a little whenever he would hear snippets of songs that he recognised. It was like someone had pulled a switch inside him, and the previously distressed and anxious Seonghwa was nowhere to be seen. This was the power of passion, and of music. And you felt beyond guilty for somehow having had played a part in making him believe that you did not want to see this.

Though nothing was explicitly your fault, and you did talk with Seonghwa about his life and abouthis career, you felt like you could, and should have tried harder. He deserved so much more than what you could offer, so you were willing to do anything to simply make him smile. And a trip to the noraebang was, as it turned out, a fantastic start.

You two had started off the evening with a couple of classic 90s hits, Dance with DOC by DJ DOC and I Know by Seo Taiji and the Boys, which progressed to Seonghwa fully serenading you with Perfect Man by Shinhwa, which you had picked because “haha, Seonghwa – Shinhwa sounds similar”, not realising that your ears were about to be blessed. Then you had made the discovery that Seonghwa was a girl group dance machine, and from Wonder Girls, to miss A to 2NE1 you two were losing yourself in the music, with Seonghwa actively trying to teach you key points of every choreo. As you came closer and closer to choosing more recently released tunes, however, you noticed a lull in Seonghwa’s enthusiasm. He appeared to be hesitant in carrying on with your concert, glancing at you more often, asking if you were okay, if you were happy, what your preferences were.

As minutes turned into an hour, and then were beginning to approach the second, he started getting worried about your interest. Were you doing this because you actually wanted to, or because you felt pity for him and wanted to ‘bring yourself down to his little bubble’ and have a good sing-along. Long rumination session short – he needed a reminder for just what he had achieved.

With every look he was sending in your direction, you were getting more and more annoyed. Not at Seonghwa, but at the fact that he was so quick to disregard his brilliance. Compare himself. View himself as someone who had 'not done much'. While being humble was admirable, and how he was grateful to everyone who was helping him made your heart swell, he was approaching irrational levels of self-disregard.

"Hey, Seonghwa. Can I quickly tell you something?"

"Oh if you are tired we can-"

"What makes you happy?"

"What?"

"What makes you happy?"

"Uhm... is this a trick question?"

"This is not a quiz, Seonghwa. What I want to hear is the truth. Otherwise, I will just try to answer for you.”

"You?"

"Smooth, but scratch that for a second. Does music make you happy? In another life, would you still be ATEEZ?"

"...Yes."

"Good! That is what I wanted to hear. So why are you not living it when you are with me?"

"But I... well... we bonded over space? And Lego? And sci fi and... things not to related to music... so I decided that this was what would help me be closer to you."

"I am glad that it helped us bond, I really am. But at the same time, I am upset that I made an impression on you that this was all I was interested in. I know you go out of your way to learn more about what I do. I know that you spend hours picking apart the vocabulary, the ideas I drop without thinking. I know that you care so much and put that above what you love. But this is consuming you. I am so sorry for it. I am taking away from your happiness."

"But this is not... your fault? In the slightest? I want to learn more, and I want to know what you like-”

"Relationships are a two-way street, Seonghwa. So, if there is imbalance, I am to blame too. I like you for who you are, not for who you try to morph yourself to be. I am an idiot for not diving into music until now. I am upset at myself for not enabling you to shine to the fullest. Seonghwa, you are radiant. You are the most hardworking, respectable, persevering individual I know. You remember those times you mentioned how you approach practice? Passing it of as nothing special? Well I can guarantee you, you are one of the few who is so damn passionate and so deeply caring about the future, about ATEEZ, about music. You breathe this, and I want to see more of it. You deserve more than what the universe has to offer, and I as an astrophysicist can say that. And you, as an idol, singer, rapper, performer, dancer, artist, role model, actual model and SO MUCH MORE, can do me a favour and BELIEVE IN YOURSELF AND LOVE WHAT YOU HAVE ACHIEVED. You have so much to be proud of, and yes, I understand that sometimes there are days where you doubt yourself and are down in the dumps - hell, I have been there myself, but just know, that even if you feel that way, neither your fellow members, nor I feel the same. You are a guiding star for many, and the one I will always look for in the infinite expanse."

"I... I really don't know what to say.... Y/N..."

You could see that Seonghwa was beginning to tear up - you had expected for him to be the type of person to take such things more deeply, but did not predict that you would be misty-eyed right there with him. Before either of you became a sobbing mess, Seonghwa pulled you close, and into a tight hug. The way he held onto you alluded to a sort of fear. A fear that this was all an illusion. That it could disappear in the blink of an eye. But you were never going to feed into that. Instead, you moved your hands to cup his face, and stared deep into his eyes, finally closing the space between you with a sweet, reassuring kiss, full of love and promise.

You upheld your promise to Hongjoong, and had asked Seonghwa whether he would be comfortable with showing you around KQ. This had led him to immediately calling Hongjoong, who, much to his surprise, had apparently already organised everything for the same day next week, and now was simply asking Seonghwa to send his regards and warn you that you were probably going to be ambushed since the rest of the guys were going to find out pretty quickly. Oh, and that you had a meeting at two thirty in the afternoon, so better be at KQ by then. After ending the call, Seonghwa turned his head, eyes wide as a saucepans:

“Since when are you business partners with Hongjoong?”

“Probably since I had to call him to ask if it would be okay to organise this.” You gestured all around you, struggling to keep a straight face as EXO’s Growl played in the background.

“And what kind of meeting is he talking about?”

“Long story short I apparently need to sign a non-disclosure agreement. For… reasons.”

“No way. No freaking way you actually did it!” he exclaimed, putting his hands on his head.

“Did… what?” you tried to hide it since Hongjoong had asked you to not tell Seonghwa the specifics, but his reaction was too cute to resist.

“There is literally only one reason why he would want you to join in on some intellectual property protection schemes, and that is if you somehow managed to crack the lore. So… my darling has the ATEEZ multiverse in her hands isn’t that neat?!”

“I said nothing, by the way.”

“I don’t need you beefing with Joongie so neither of us know anything.”

Did you overprepare for what was supposed to be a casual visit? Yes. Did you regret it? Hell no. So, you lugged a heavy tote bag around with you with a great sense of pride, from room to room, studio to studio. Seonghwa asked you a couple of times whether it was too heavy or not, but you stated confidently that it was for an eight makes one team kind of moment.

The gifts contained in the tote bag were a collaboration between eight people, after all. It was not too hard to get in touch with everyone, and they were more than invested in the idea of figuring out a meaningful expression of gratitude. This was how, in a week’s time you had managed to coordinate the ultimate deliverable, exclusively for ATEEZ, and absolutely top secret.

Seonghwa managed to force entry into what had been planned as a meeting between you, Hongjoong and the CEO only, and ended up sitting in a corner, just loving the fact that you were his girlfriend and were so immersed in his work, as spooky theories and future release plans were being hurled around the room. Being sworn to secrecy had never felt as good for you as it did now, and the joy written across Seonghwa’s face as you ended up being able to uphold a discussion about some obscure science fiction anime that the CEO was a fan of served as further motivation.

After finishing the meeting and making your way to a staff-only cafeteria for a late lunch together with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, you were stopped on your tracks by a very distinct shout from behind you.

“SPACE RACE!?”

“Oh so you were not kidding when you said they interrogated you huh?” you turned to Seonghwa after having registered that the rest of ATEEZ were about to stampede you.

“Yep, and that, my dear, was Wooyoung altering you of his presence. Whether you stay still or run it does not really matter. He has you on his radar.” Seonghwa warned you, placing a hand on the small of your back.

“And his girlfriend is my friend.”

“You have too much power, I respect you.” Hongjoong whispered as the three of you turned to greet the rest of the members.

Yunho pushed himself through, introducing himself as the designated driver to a lot of your functions with Seonghwa, for which you bowed to him and thanked him. Yeosang mentioned that your work was very cool, and how he had read your interview in a science magazine published a few months ago, which took you aback, but made you feel honoured. The rest of the members were equally polite, though Jongho was the only one who managed to control his volume when greeting you.

“So, you here to talk science?”

“Only science that’s related to ATEEZ, so if you follow Hongjoong, Seonghwa and I to the cafeteria, I shall share all.”

And who would not sign up for a little mystery?

Once everyone had sat a large table, and were more or less settled down, you finally felt like you could reveal what had been prepared. But, not before quickly shooting a text to a group chat of all your collaborators: “it is happening”.

After looking around the oversized bag, you finally took out gift number one. It was a miniature FIFA World Cup style trophy, engraved with ‘ATEEZ’ and ‘8 makes 1 team’ right at the base. You noticed Jongho go pale, just as you had expected.

Then, there was a game for the console. A side project which a high profile game developer who you admired had been working on for what had been a few months apparently, but managed to wrap up in the time you had set – a Super Smash Bros style multiplayer, but with the boys as the playable characters. Yunho began to look side to side, trying to figure out whether it was only him to realised exactly who was behind this gift.

The next gift was a double combo – it was a CD, recorded by a rapper that was currently rapidly rising to fame, together with a well-designed booklet on the inside, containing the lyrics translated into seven other languages. Both San and Mingi melted into a puddle at the side, punching each other out of excitement.

One of your favourites was a present from your good friend at ‘dream-ity’ – an array of cookies with ornate icing designs, made to look exactly like the various editions of all albums that ATEEZ had ever released. You could hear Wooyoung whispering to himself ‘this cannot be happening and when did she have the time’ over and over again.

Next were eight custom jewellery pieces, matching bracelets for each of the members that were from a not yet available, highly exclusive collection from ARNURI. You had no idea how you had convinced the designer and owner of the brand to just gift that on a whim, but seeing just how Hongjoong.exe ceased to work explained it all.

Was it possible to make a mini magazine in the span of a week? Apparently so, especially when an expert has access to top quality blackmail material collected by none other than Yeosang. And that was exactly what he gravitated towards as soon as you produced it out of the bag. He leafed through page after page, seeing a collection of inside jokes, quotes and memes from both the internet and from his stories of the boys, and was near tearing up.

Seonghwa was staring at you, flabbergasted as you produced a framed mini poster. While the rest of the members were cooing over the various ATEEZ-themed presents, you looked at him, and quietly explained:

“So, this… this is a star map. Basically, how the sky looked like above Seoul, South Korea when you guys made your debut. And under this,” you turned the poster the other way around, and from behind the frame produced a certificate, “is a document confirming you having your own personal star, named after ATEEZ. So, here’s that.”

He covered his mouth with his hand, stifling a gasp.

“Eight makes one team?” you tried, noticing that all the members were either texting, or already calling their special people.

Seonghwa reached over to you, gleaming, thanking the universe time and time again. As he took your hand in his, and looked into your eyes, making time freeze, he whispered:

“Something tells me it’s sixteen.”

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kpopxx · 4 years ago

Text

Spy Games [Chapter 1] : More Than It Seems

Characters: Twice Momo, Male Reader

4579 words

Authors Note: This is literally the first fiction writing I have done since I was a little kid writing stories about a town full of hamburgers. I was inspired to try my hand at writing by the plethora of amazing kpop smut writers out there right now, but by @lockefanfic, @nsfwtwicecatcher, @nsfwflint, and @ggidolsmuts in particular. If there are any similarities between my writing and theirs, please forgive me as I’ve spent more hours than I’d care to admit “researching” their work.

One thing that amazes me is how the hell everyone cranks out thousands of words with such frequency, as this post isn’t even 5k and it took forever to write. I can’t begin to explain how much respect I have for all the authors out there who can write so much and maintain such high levels of quality.

As a new writer, I welcome any and all feedback! Feel free to drop me a line if you have any critiques, or if you just want to chat!

***

“Coming up on the target now.”

“Roger that, remember the office is on the top floor. Let us know when you’re inside. And remember, no elevators...” teases your handler, Choa.

“Thanks for the reminder,” you reply sarcastically.

You survey the skyscraper against the night sky--it would be impressive if it weren’t one of a hundred just like it downtown Seoul--and wonder what you had done to deserve getting the short end of the stick. Of course, you knew there was a reason to avoid the elevators: they sat directly in front of the building’s concierge and the cameras in the lobby, while the stairwell lay in a remote part of the first floor. The logic behind your impending hike didn’t make the reality any less abhorrent.

“Meanwhile, Seolhyun gets to infiltrate an organization in the Caymans. Just my fucking luck.” you grumble to yourself.

“Oh, stop whining, you big baby,” says Choa, reminding you to keep your thoughts to yourself.

You sneak past the lobby and towards the back of the floor you find the entrance to the stairwell in a poorly lit area.

“Beginning my climb.” you report, shaking out your legs as you prepare to go up.

“Sir, I-I’m getting some interference over comms,” chimes in the timid voice of the girl you knew to be your newest team member, Yoo Jeongyeon. “It could just be local chatter, but I want to make sure it’s not someone trying to listen in.”

“Probably nothing to worry about, but we’ll let you know if there’s anything you need to worry about.” Choa assures you.

As you climb up the stairs, you wonder why anyone would want to listen in on this particular mission. This was a run-of-the-mill operation to investigate money laundering at an accounting firm. You’d infiltrated foreign governments, broken into and bugged the offices of billionaire CEOs, and tailed enemy agents. You could understand people wanting to hear those comms, but this? Either someone wanted something to listen to as a sleep aid, or this mission was more interesting than it looked.

A tip had come in through one of the new girls at the Intel Desk reporting that there was some fishy activity related to organized crime going on at the accounting firm. This was routine and you’d gone on dozens of similar recon missions before: break in, find suspicious intel, get out. But if someone wanted so badly to hear what was going on, the new girl may have stumbled onto something worthy of a promotion. Hayoung, you think her name was. Her chestnut, shoulder-length hair along with her well-endowed physique reminded you of a young mother, but her mature beauty belied her young age. You had caught yourself more than a few times fantasizing about her in your off hours…

You stop mid-way in the stairwell, scolding yourself for losing focus. Too often over the course of the last year you found yourself fantasizing about the women in your life. Sure, before the incident with Eunha you had sexual thoughts about your coworkers--you were surrounded by beautiful women, after all. But recently you noticed that your life was increasingly preoccupied with sex: both in your thoughts and the real-life exploits you carried out.

Much longer than a few minutes later, you reach the 63rd floor out of breath and sweating, wishing more than ever that it was you and not Seolhyun lounging on the beach. You take a moment to compose yourself before peeking out into the office floor to see if the coast is clear.

“We may have a problem, boss. Jeongyeon looked into the comms disturbance and someone much more sophisticated than the average joe is definitely trying to tap in,” Choa says. “Jeongyeon’s kicking their ass right now blocking their access, but there’s only so much she can do alone. Eventually we’re going to lose control of this channel.”

“Dammit. I knew something was off with this op,” you grumble. “If they want to listen in to whatever I find, it must be important. We’ll go dark. Recon says this should be a quick in and out anyways. I’ll tag you once I’m out.”

“Be careful. Signal us if anything goes wrong. Just don’t do anything stupid.” replies Choa.

“What do you think they pay me all this money for?” you tease, wanting to put her nerves at ease. “See you on the other side. Over and out.”

You could hear the concern in her voice. Even though keeping you safe was part of her job, you knew she cared about you. You also knew as well as she did that anything could go wrong even in the five minutes it would take you to break in, especially when it appeared that someone knew exactly what you were doing.

You switch off your comms link and head out the door and into the office.

It looked exactly as you expected--rows and rows of non-descript cubicles, with a princely office lined with glass walls occupying the far corner. Jeongyeon had retrieved the floor plan by hacking into the building’s security database earlier in the week, and you knew after her effort tonight in detecting and fending off the comms interference that Choa would want you to acknowledge the work the new girl had been putting in. She certainly was more skilled than the five previous team members you’d fired after Eunha, but you found it difficult to bring yourself to praise her. The Ops Officer position she occupied was a sore point for you, after all.

You deftly pick the lock on the corner office door and immediately sit down in front of the terminal on the desk, logging in with the security bypass Jeongyeon drew up.

Again your thoughts drift to Eunha. Eunha was your longtime Ops Officer--highly skilled, you trusted her more than anyone. It also helped that she was your fiance. It made you sad to think about her; about what could have been, what should have been. Over the past year, you were constantly reminded of her absence by the utter incompetence of her replacements. You suppose it was nice that at the very least, Jeongyeon didn’t give you many opportunities to bemoan her performance in the same way--to remind you of Eunha.

You shake your head, compelling yourself to rise out of your funk and get on with the mission.

As you scroll through files, you stop on one with a familiar signature. Reading its contents, your eyes open wider--suddenly you understand why someone would be interested to listen in to your communications. You quickly save the file to your flash drive and stand up to leave, only to be startled by a figure in the doorway.

“Care to tell me what’s on that?” comes a familiar voice from the darkness that you knew to be Hirai Momo’s. Momo was an agent for a foreign espionage agency--you had as friendly a rivalry as you could have when working for different governments.

“What was the point of trying to hack our comms if you were just going to show up and ask me that?”

“I had no intention of coming until you decided to ghost your girlfriends,” teases Momo. “Besides, I like showing you how much better I am at sneaking around.”

Momo flicks on the light and she comes into focus. The Japanese government made a good decision when they hired her, you think. She was built for the job of a seductive spy. Her perfectly toned legs had a lovely sheen all the way up to her short skirt, while her cleavage suggested that her tits were ready to burst out of her tight, patterned blouse. Where most of your attention was drawn, however, was her lustrous blue hair, which fell to her shoulders.

“I may actually need your help with this, once you see what’s on it,” you say, nodding your head at the flash drive.

“Oh, so you’re willing to give it to me? I thought I was going to have to fuck you for it,” she says sarcastically. You knew behind the humor was more than a nugget of truth, though. Sex had been the primary vehicle for information trading with Momo over the years. You decide to test your reading of the situation.

“Just because I need your help doesn’t mean I’m giving it for free…”

Momo brings her thumb to her mouth and bites gently as she ponders your not-so-subtle proposition. She takes her turn to look you up and down, making you feel more than a little self conscious in her gaze of judgment. After so many years in the dangerous world of espionage, there were only a handful women who could make you feel so small. Then again, Momo was no regular girl.

Once she’s satisfied she has properly appraised your worth, Momo lets go of her thumb and straightens her blouse.

“Fine,” she says matter-of-factly, “let’s get to it,” unbuttoning her blouse as she walks towards you.

You are surprised by the lack of fight she put up, but you thought it best to keep that to yourself. Her tone reminds you of a business meeting--that is, if you hadn’t seen her pull her top off as she approached you. She sits in your lap on the chair, wrapping her arms around your neck as you meet her lips for a kiss. Momo’s mouth was familiar to you, introduced to you many times throughout your career. It seemed like every time you ran across her you had sex. One thing you adored about your relationship with her was that it was absolutely without strings attached. You fucked for work, but just because it was part of the job didn’t mean you both didn’t enjoy it.

Momo, however, was loath to admit the pleasure she got out of her liaisons with you. Call it pride, call it being professional, whatever--Momo refused to act like sex with you was anything other than work, no different than working in a spreadsheet.

You feel her reach down to your pants, quickly unbuttoning them as she sinks to her knees in front of you. You smirk--her eagerness to please you betrayed her air of ambivalence.

Momo wastes no time getting down to business. You are certain the Japanese trained her very well in tender foreplay, but it seems she doesn’t care much for subtlety at the moment. Instead, she utilizes a more direct method to extract your pleasure--one that must have required its own fair share of training--as she spits on your cock before immediately forcing it as deeply in her mouth as she can take it. One, two, three bobs is all it takes for her to reach the base of your cock, her nose buried in your pelvis.

“Fuuuck me, that’s good,” you groan as you hold her head in place for several seconds, and Momo replies in turn with a cough that spits a healthy serving of saliva on to your cock. You release your grip on the back of her head to give her a chance to breathe, but she surprises you when she simply continues to work her mouth on your increasingly saliva-drenched cock, swirling her tongue around your base. Most of the other women you had slept with in recent months would be gasping for air by now, but Momo’s demeanor was cool, calm, and collected. Almost as if she was reading your mind, Momo paused her slurping and pulled her mouth off your shaft--but not forgetting to continue stroking it with achingly deft corkscrew motions.

“What’s the matter? Girls in your department not able to take care of your cock like a real woman?” Momo clicks her tongue and grins. “I’ve told you for years, you’d never be treated so poorly if you came to work for a professional outfit like ours.”

“Shut up and suck my cock.”

Momo shrugs, and gets back to the task at hand. Slobbering even more as she takes you into your mouth again, you pause to thank your lucky stars that you had a job that paid you in part to fuck women like Momo. You gaze upon her face, which has become just as messy as your cock. Momo’s sloppy blowjob has not only left liberal amounts of spit on your cock, but on her face as well--with strands of her blue hair plastered to her cheeks. Even though you thought it impossible, you feel your cock get harder at the sight of Momo’s messy face.

For several minutes, Momo continues inhaling your cock as you find yourself nearing the point of no return, you yank Momo’s head off your throbbing cock in order to prolong your session. A bit too forcefully, it seems, as Momo falls over onto her side.

“What the fuck!” yelps Momo as she picks herself back up, glaring at you. “I suck your cock and you thank me by throwing me on the ground?

“I didn’t mean to, I’m just not ready to cum yet. We both know you would’ve ignored me if I had asked you to stop.”

“I guess you’re right about that,” Momo replies sheepishly. You knew from previous run-ins with her that she loved nothing more than swallowing cum. Even though you had just denied her that favor, you were already thinking about how to make it up to her in a few minutes.

“How about I repay your kindness? Get up on the table and let me eat you.”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries. I’ll get up on the table, but you’re going to fuck me.”

“Someone’s eager to see what’s in this thumb drive,” you tease, inadvertently reminding yourself that this was a transactional liaison. You suspected that Momo’s interest in you extended beyond her desire for the information at hand, and part of you yearned to take her outside of the confines of work. You’re skeptical such a day would ever come, however, given how ambitious Momo was.

You knew her story--she applied for a job in the Japanese spy agency several years ago, making it all the way through the process before being cut at the very end. She ended up receiving an offer shortly after one of the other finalists died in a ‘training accident’, but Momo lived with a chip on her shoulder ever since. She lived and worked with a pathological drive to prove the agency wrong in their original decision to cut her. Already the youngest lead operative in her country’s history, she had an eye on the directorship and seemed destined for it. So, you supposed, it was nice to be able to fuck her before she became famous.

Momo hops on up on the desk, hiking up her skirt to reveal a delicious-looking blue thong that matches her hair. She looks behind towards you with lust heavy in her eyes as she pulls her thong to the side, revealing her glistening pussy--already dripping, you noted.

“I don’t have all night.”

More than happy to oblige, you line your painfully throbbing cock up with her pussy and you can feel the warmth radiating from it. You take a second to appreciate Momo’s incredible physique as your hands graze downward from her upper back, to her hips, and finally to her ass. As you rub it, you cannot help but appreciate how sublimely taut it is.

“Jeeze, you act like this is the first time you’ve seen a woman naked,” Momo jabs, interrupting your reverie.

You are starting to get annoyed with Momo’s demeanor. It was nothing new, really--she always carried an air of superiority--but it nonetheless grates on your nerves to see her be so dismissive. You are mature enough to understand that at least a part of this aggravation had to do with the fact that you knew Momo slept with plenty of men for work. Not so mature, however, to be able to stifle the primal urge deep inside of you that wanted Momo to see you as the best of all her lovers. More than ever, it seemed that sexual vanity mattered a great deal to your self-confidence.

With a renewed sense of purpose and your cock in hand, you enter Momo slowly with a long stroke until you fill her to the hilt. In unison with your initial insertion, Momo lets out a whine that crescendos as you bottom out.

As you begin to thrust in and out Momo settles in and widens her stance ever so little, which has the added benefit of allowing you to go even deeper into her warm, wet pussy. Momo was not a girl of surprises. Her face was gorgeous, capable of angelic beauty and fiery lust. Her body reflected the many hours she spent in the gym with ample breasts, insanely tight abs, and a toned ass to match. Her pussy feels exactly as sublime as her beautiful face and incredible body suggested. The perfect combination for a woman who used her body to seduce and take advantage of brainless men. You decide to push out your mind the realization that at this very moment, you are in fact one of those men.

You wanted to make sure Momo felt each and every drive into her hot flesh. Momo continued to moan quietly, each breath punctuated with a new thrust and the sound of your skin meeting hers.

“Looks like someone’s gotten real quiet all of a sudden,” you say, noticing her haughty attitude had subsided as pleasure took you both over.

“Oh, get over yourself,” Momo says, looking back at you with rekindled determination in her eyes, “you’re no better than half the guys I’ve been with. I’m here for the file, not for whatever you call this.” She cooly turns her head to face front again, leaving you seething.

Your twinge of annoyance was now a bubbling boil.

You slow down before withdrawing your cock from her warmth--Momo lets out the faintest whine of disappointment, betraying her dissatisfied front.

Just as Momo turns her head again to complain, you quickly slam your cock deep inside her. Momo yelps, and you notice her eyes bulge as you move your hips in a circular motion with your cock filled to the hilt, scraping deep inside her pussy. After several seconds of this you grab a makeshift ponytail out of her hair and yank backwards, causing her to gasp and arch her back instinctively. As much as she bothered you with her air of indifference, you had to admit that the image in front of you was the stuff of dreams.

Taking advantage of the highly erotic sight before you and the increased leverage offered by your grasp of her hair, you began to truly fuck her with quick and powerful strokes.

“Take it, Momo,” you grunted, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead.

Momo said nothing, emitting only breathless gasps from her open mouth. You noticed that their intensity was gradually increasing, so you increased the speed of your shaft penetrating her young, sinful body. You knew she was enjoying this, but you wouldn’t be satisfied until you broke her facade. You wanted her to lose herself to you.

You speed up even more, and the volume of your skin slapping together increases as her pussy drips wetter and wetter, mixing with your leaking precum. You are slamming your cock into her now, and Momo has to grab on to the table to steady herself. Slowly but surely her pretense was crumbling.

“You want it, don’t you Momo? You want more?”

“Fuck yeah,” Momo gasps hoarsely, struggling to speak with her hair being pulled, “Give it to me...o-oh...fuck, give it to me!”

Satisfied that she had succumbed to her pleasure, you relax your grip on her hair slightly and lean over to growl in her ear.

“I’ll give it to you. I’m gonna make sure you remember this, make sure every time you’re with another man you wish it was me.”

Momo acknowledges your promise with a deep groan, giving you great pleasure as you resumed fucking her gorgeous body.

Your eyes drift downward to her glorious ass, now shining with sweat and jiggling violently with each crash of your cock inside her. Inspired by the sight, you release her hair and put one hand on her hip and begin striking her ass with your other. Momo shrieks in surprise, but quickly looks back at you with lidded eyes while biting her lip to tell you she wanted more.

Again you oblige, and it was quickly becoming clear that lust and pleasure were staging a coup of Momo’s senses. She’s making lots of noise, but nothing intelligible. Nothing but guttural moans interspersed with high-pitched squeals. You continue spanking her ass, alternating cheeks--noticing a deep pink beginning to form on both. She’d most likely be dealing with soreness for several days after this, you think.

“You wanna cum, Momo? Cum for me, I know you want to.”

“Mmmmm...Ah, ah, AH! Unggghh,” comes Momo’s response.

“Come on Momo, fucking cum baby...cum all over this cock,” you shout, sincerely hoping there was no one working in an adjacent floor to hear.

“FUUUUCK!” Momo screams eloquently, suddenly dropping her head as her body begins convulsing. You knew what to expect having slept with her before, but you are nonetheless surprised to see how completely overtaken her body was by pleasure. Her upper body jerks spastically as her legs tremble with your cock plunged deep inside her pussy, all the while letting out a high-pitched whine that turns into a soft whimper. Just a few minutes before she was defiant and happy to throw insults at you...now she was a mewling, writhing mess incapable of speaking. The dark, primal part of you is satisfied by her tacit recognition of your talent.

After a short while, Momo begins to compose herself and lifts her upper body from the table. You take it as a sign to slowly resume taking your cock in and out of her. You decide to give her now glowing pink ass a rest and caress her back, tracing long lines with your nails.

“Mmmmm, that feels good,” Momo says, her eyes still closed, “you fuck me so good.”

You slowly begin ramping up the pace, rolling your hips with each stroke. You want to make sure your cock pleases every inch of Momo’s pussy, and make sure it craves you when she’s alone at night.

After several minutes of this tender, softer version of lovemaking, Momo comes back to her senses. She arches her back again and turns her head to gaze in your eyes as you continue to take her. She begins to move her ass back and forth on your cock in unison with your own strokes.

“Oh my god, you feel so good in my fucking pussy! Every...fucking...stroke!” Momo gasps, the final words punctuated by the force of her majestic ass crashing against your cock.

“You’re a bad girl, Momo,” you tease, “you like being taken and shown who’s boss, don’t you? You like me grabbing your hair and slapping your ass?”

“Yes!” she gasps, “Yes I love it! Mmmmm...I want you to fuck me until you cum. Fuck me until you cum!”

There was no command in the world easier to follow.

Satisfied that you had fulfilled your vain, immature desire to see her acknowledge your skill as a lover, you now focus yourself on extracting pleasure from the young woman beneath you. You settle into a pace with rough strokes, fiercely pounding her over and over. Your pleasure rises with each thrust, aided not only by the mindblowing caress of her pussy, but by the incredible sight of Momo on all fours before you moaning with each strike of your cock inside her.

“Fuck Momo...I don’t think I have much longer, I’m gonna fucking cum so hard!”

“Yes,” comes the response from Momo, “Yes, yes! Fucking cum baby, I want your cum so bad!”

A few more thrusts and you can feel the point of no return coming. For a brief moment you contemplate cumming inside Momo, to truly claim her. You quickly reconsider, wanting to give her what she truly wanted--to swallow your load.

And so, you quickly withdraw your cock from Momo’s now sopping wet pussy and she instinctively turns around and drops to her knees on the floor. Stroking your cock with great fervor, her mouth wide open begging for what was to come.

“Please give me your cum, please, please! I want it...I need it! Cum for me!”

Your head tilts backward as a long groan escapes your lips. Your cum explodes from your shaft, shooting long, thick ropes of semen into her mouth and onto her cheeks and nose. Over and over, your cum splashes on her beautiful face until you finally reach the end of your orgasm, panting and exhausted. Momo’s face is a pornographic picture of lust, her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she swallows the mass of cum you deposited in her mouth.

“I fucking love your cum,” Momo says as she wipes the remaining cum off her face with her finger and promptly brings it to her tongue before swallowing it down as well.

“I’m glad we were both able to get what we wanted,” you say, struggling to catch your breath.

“Speaking of getting what I wanted…” Momo says, nodding her head to the part of the floor where the USB drive now sits, evidently thrown from the table during the session that had just taken place.

“Right,” you say, suddenly remembering you’re here for work, “make a copy and let’s get out of here.”

“Great,” says Momo, still on the floor with a satisfied smile of content on her face, “Hey, I meant what I said about having you join our team. As much shit as I give you, we could really use someone with your talent.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m better off staying put. Don’t think the Korean government would let me live if I tried defecting.”

“Probably true,” says Momo as she begins picking up her clothes, “Never hurts to ask, though.”

***

A few minutes later, you and Momo had both gotten dressed and copied the file onto a drive for her. Momo disappeared into an adjoining hallway and you set off to traverse the stairwell again. As you prepare yourself for the descent, you also steel yourself for the repercussions of giving the intel to a foreign spy agency. With the information you saw in the file, you knew the Japanese would have to be looped in sooner or later. If it was going to happen eventually, you thought it made the most sense to entrust that intel to the agent on the other side you knew would make sure things got done correctly. As logical as it seemed to you, however, you knew it wouldn’t be taken well back at the office.

You click on your comms link, now knowing there’s nothing to fear.

“Hey Choa, I’m on my way back to the rendezvous.”

“Oh thank god! That took forever, I was about to call for a tac team!” Choa sighs with audible relief, “I take it you got everything you needed?”

“Got more than I needed, actually,” you say, nervous about Choa’s reaction to what you say next, “Listen, there’s one small thing you should know...”

“You did WHAT?!”

#momo #twice smut #momo smut #male reader #b/g #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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forestwater87 · 3 years ago

Text

Okay, for all of you who don't feel like watching Miles RP as David

Here are some of my favorite quotes. Context may be added if I feel like it. Reactions are my goblin brain screaming. All of these came from a discord so if they don't make sense . . . see goblin brain comment.

(That link should start directly at the point where he becomes David; if it doesn't, skip to 1:40:33)

In roughly chronological order:

David: "Teachers are sort of like camp counselors during the rest of the year."

The thing is David is absolutely up his own ass enough to think this.

David: "Trail mix is expensive!"

^ said to show he understands why not everyone can donate to the charity for teachers. Very adorable, am crying.

David's "ooooh" seeing one dude was extremely non-heterosexual. Fucking bicon. Him losing his mind that one of the arenas is called "Survey camp"

David: "A person's hitting me -- I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry this is just pretend!"

This is just canonically how David plays video games. Either this or he's unwilling to commit violence at all, but I'll defer to Miles.

David: "That's very goat of you!"

Spencer: "Is David popular amongst his campers?"

David: "I like to think so! There's only 3 staff members, so I'm definitely in everyone's top 3."

"That also means you're in the bottom 3."

David: "Well, I choose not to think of it that way."

(I have to keep adding reacts so you can tell when one quote ends and another begins. Judge not lest ye be judged)

I think the other person in the stream is named Spencer. Friend of Miles. I know literally nothing else about him and am not even confident on those facts.

Every time he says something so non-David in his David voice I die: "I have a lot of grenades!"

David: "Oh my goodness, would you look at this beautiful scenery! Can we hike that mountain?"

This is so goddamn cute. I am dying. Miles looked at his fans and said "they will eat tonight" and I am so relieved.

David: "Not to be a couple of Greedy Garys, but I say we get this [care package] and then I'll drop another one!"

The fact that Miles is grinning like a lunatic the entire time is very good. (Also if this is formatted badly then I'm sorry but not all that sorry. I'm doing my best and David would be proud of me.)

David: "Didja getim? Didja getim? didja getim? How 'bout now?"

Spencer: "I didn't get 'em."

David: "Well, you tried your best and that's all that matters."

He calls healing "a little health kiss." I'm not sure why but it's very important to me.

David: [while jumping to murder someone] "Hi! Scuse me!"

(i just need something to separate the quotes okay)

David: "Well you know what gang, we did our best. You don't always win the 3-legged race. You did a wonderful job!"

Then there's a bit where they talk about Spencer's time at summer camp:

David: "ooooh hand-holding's pretty serious!"

David is too pure.

David: [dreamily] "Did you fall in love, Spencer? A summer love?" [puts hands up to his face]

Then there's the fact that David/Miles gets to pick where they play each round, and he keeps insisting on going to the one called "Survey Camp" every single time because it has the word "camp" in it.

David: "Now, I don't like to disagree, but . . . I was thinking we could go . . . to Survey Camp!"

Spencer reminds him that technically since David's the one with the power to choose, his opinion is the only one that matters:

David: "Everyone's opinion matters. And my opinion is we're going to camp."

David just steamrolling over Spencer's interests is very good. There are these little selfish nuggets sprinkled in among the wholesomeness that really capture the full David experience.

David: "Well, he's climbing up . . . he's coming my direction . . . oh, he looks scary . . ."

Spencer: "Is he coming towards me?"

David: "Oooh, I don't know. I'm dead!"

The positivity is relentless. I think Miles said on twitter afterwards that this whole thing was exhausting and I can see why. Being David is no picnic . . .

David: "I have a question: do we have to shoot each other in this game?"

And then a few seconds later:

David: "I'm just wondering if maybe there's a way we can, you know, help others. Talk through our issues."

And a few seconds after that:

David: "I was asking if they wanted to be friends in the game!"

I believe that moved killed him, too. Precious.

Also we're interrupting the real Miles!David content to share something my friend suggested to me while I was watching this and giving her quotes; she said that maybe David just calls everything camp to make life more fun, and then sent me this imaginary exchange that actually killed me all the way to death:

David: Gwen Santos would you go to marriage camp with me

Gwen: I'm going to have to change this story when I tell everyone

It made me laugh quite a bit.

Anyway, back to the video!

Spencer: "How do you sign up for [Camp Campbell]?"

David: "Well, um, you can fax, uh, an application to [email protected]. And . . . you can know that myself and Gwen and Quartermaster and sometimes Mr. Campbell will do our best to make sure they get what they need! Which more than anything is love and support. And friendship."

Spencer: "How many dollars does this camp cost?"

David: "You know . . . it is, um . . ."

And then the conversation switches subjects and David breathes a sigh of relief.

Very shortly after this he changed his character from a woman (she was wearing a yellow shirt, which he liked because the campers wear yellow shirts) to "a Forward Scout with a positive attitude!"

"I like his style."

Spencer: "Does everybody abuse David verbally?"

David: "You know, sometimes people have harsh words. Mostly Max, and Neil, and Gwen, and Quartermaster, and Nurf."

Spencer: "Did you just list almost everyone?"

David: "Mmm . . . I'd say maybe a third."

Poor David. Somebody please protect him.

Spencer: "Yeah, I think people abuse David. I get that vibe. Or at least, I feel it in my heart. Like I wanna put ants in your bunk or something."

David: "Well, I think that says more about maybe some of the hurt you're carrying with you. And sometimes when people don't know how to process that, they act out. Do you want some trail mix?"

David just said his favorite part of trail mix is the raisins which is so cute. "They have a little bit of salt on them, which isn't typical for a raisin."

And he keeps telling chatters to watch their language.

David: "Who is my favorite camper? Aww, you know I couldn't pick a favorite! . . . But I know who has the most potential, even if he doesn't want to admit it."

I KNEW IT!!!!!

I've been saying for years that David doesn't have a favorite and gravitates towards the ones he thinks need him the most AND I FINALLY GOT ONE RIGHT!

David: "Well you know, Gwen swears and that's okay."

shipping intensifies

David: [gasp] "The moss is growing on the north side of the rock!"

Every time he nerds out about weird shit in the game I gain 3 seconds to my life.

Spencer: "Did you get teabagged?"

David: "What's that?"

Spencer: "It's where somebody places their most intimate bits on you for . . . friendship."

David: [softly] "Oh, I don't know about that."

Also David confirms that the whole show has been a single summer, so please see the "vindication" gif above.

David: "I know a lot of fun camp songs."

Spencer: "Sing 3."

David: [starts singing] "Bum-bum-bumblebee, bumblebee tuna, I love bumblebee, bumblebee tuna . . ."

Spencer: "Okay, please stop. I immediately regret this decision."

David: "Max said the same thing! One of my campers. And, uh, and my co-counselor, Gwen."

He's literally made of sunshine. I would die for this fictional man.

Spencer: "Are people at camp against their will? I feel like they are."

David: "No! . . . They don't always like it immediately, but it grows on them."

Spencer: "It sounds like they're there against their will."

David: "Well I just think that's a negative way of looking at it."

FWIW Spencer makes an excellent foil to David. Not as aggressive as Max or as dour as Gwen, but he brings a very . . . like, straight-man energy to the conversation. Like how a normal person would react to David IRL. I'd enjoy seeing these two interact more.

Spencer: "It's like your overpositivity is wanting me to balance it out with negativity."

David: "You know, I feel like that dynamic's pretty popular with me."

eeeeeeee <3

And the last one that I personally found noteworthy:

David: "One day we'll be able to afford safety equipment. Until then, we'll just have to deal with Quartermaster's Ropes Course. And a lot of pillows."

There's point near the last 20 minutes where either it got kinda boring or I just got too tired to keep track. But if there are any quotes you think I missed, please share them! This was a really lovely bit of content to feed our starving maw, and I appreciate Miles very very very much for taking one for the team.

#campcamp #camp camp #cc david #roosterteeth #rooster teeth #miles luna #this isn't content #it's more like a public service #also i threw the gwenvid in like the trash goblin I am

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Riding High

Ch11: I’m Thankful for Chicken Nuggets

Chapter Summary: It’s Thanksgiving and Mary’s eating chicken nuggets.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW, no under 18s thanks!)

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Yeah yeah I know it’s the wrong time of year but hell, we’re all on lock down so the days and months don’t actually exist anyway at the moment… The Boat Company used here IS an actual company in South Pas, but I got no idea who runs it so this is completely made up- roll with me here.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 10

“Good morning, Handsom.” Fliss smiled as she held her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she continued to fork up the bedding in the stable.

“Morning sweetheart.” His soft voice hit her ear.

“Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Back at ya.” He chuckled softly “You at the yard?” “Yeah, been here a few hours now.”

“Do you need a hand with anything or…” “That’s really sweet but there’s not much left to do.” she replied, honestly “They’re all out for the day and are staying there until tomorrow morning so I’ve just a couple of stables and then some paper work to sort out before I pop back this evening to do a check.” “Ok so, once you’re done for the morning you’re free for a while?” “Yeah, why?”

“Mary had an idea.” “I did not!” Fliss heard the seven year old scoff “It was your…” “Ok, WE had an idea,” Frank conceded and there was some scuffling and Fliss could imagine he was holding Mary at arm’s length as she made a grab for the phone, “that maybe you might wanna come join us for dinner if you have time.”

“You mean your Thanksgiving dinner of chicken nuggets?” Fliss grinned “How could I turn that down?”

“Cool, just head over when you’re done.” “I might need to head home and shower.” She looked down at herself. “I’m filthy and probably don’t smell great either to be honest.” “You can change here if you want.”

Fliss paused, she had a spare change of clothes in her car. Well, a pair of sweats and a different polo shirt. She normally kept them there just in case of a downpour.

“Erm, sure, if you don’t mind…” “No of course not.”

“Alright, then, I’ll see you in about two hours or so?” Fliss smiled.

“Great.” Frank replied “See you soon.” ******

Fliss didn’t bother knocking. She opened the door to the apartment and was immediately barrelled into by a flurry of blonde hair.

“Hey!” she chuckled, dropping her bag. “Wanna let me get inside first Stack?”

Mary stepped back and Fliss straightened up and smiled as Frank walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, Beautiful.” he smiled, dropping a kiss to her lips. Mary sidled off into the main room, a smirk on her face.

“I stink.” Fliss warned “I mucked out twelve stables today.”

“Yeah, you’ve smelt better!” Frank laughed as she snorted. “You know where the bathroom is. Fresh towels in there. You need anything out of this or…” He gestured to her bag, as he went to pick it up.

“It’s just my clothes so…”

“I’ll put it in my room.” He smiled, giving her another kiss. “I would offer to come scrub your back but…” he inclined his head to the main room and Fliss gave a snort.

“Calm down, Sailor” she teased “Plenty of time for that later.”

“Promises, promises.” He grinned, picking her bag up and heading through to his room. He dropped her bag onto his bed, glancing round. He’d attempted to tidy a little bit after the realisation she’d actually never been in his room before. After their night together the previous week they hadn’t managed another night alone, Fliss being a little ‘uncomfortable’ at being together like that when Mary was literally outside the door and to be honest, it wasn’t something Frank was particularly happy about either. It had never bothered him before, because Mary was never there when he brought a girl home but this was different. That said, he knew he was going to have to find somewhere bigger soon, Greg had warned him it would likely be a condition of him being awarded Guardianship. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t concerning him a bit, living pay-check to pay-check didn’t leave him a huge housing budge but he’d work something out, he always did.

Pushing the worry from his mind, he closed the bedroom door and headed back into the room. Mary was sat on the rug looking at the instructions to the new lego kit he had bought her for Thanksgiving.

“Sussed it out yet Stack?” He asked and she gave him a withering look. He bit back the laugh that was bubbling in his throat and sat next to her, taking from her, trying to figure the instructions out to make the Storm Trooper helmet, Star Wars being her latest obsession.

“That’s upside down…” She rolled her eyes, taking it from him to turn it the right way up.

“My bad.” He shrugged, looking at it again. “Ok, so…this piece…and we need one of these…” Together they began to pull together the elements they needed for the first section and the next time Frank looked up was when Fliss walked into the living area, a little shyly, wrapped in a towel. Her long, auburn hair was piled up on top of her head and her shoulders were speckled with water. She smiled as she padded past to his bedroom, Mary not even looking up as Frank watched her with his eyes as she closed the door behind her, giving him another smile. There was something so simple, so domestic about the situation, Frank couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest.

Roberta was right, he definitely had it bad.

“When we gonna give Fliss her present?” Mary asked, looking up at Frank.

“After dinner.” He said “Which reminds me, best turn the oven on.”

“Would be a start.” Mary agreed.

Frank rolled his eyes and stood up, heading into the kitchen. Shoving the stuff in the oven, he returned and found Fliss was now sat with Mary who was showing her the instructions.

“I LOVE Star Wars.” Fliss grinned, “So does my Dad. He has a Cinema Room in the house upstairs and a poster from every single Star Wars film on the wall. I’ll show you later tonight.” “A Cinema Room?” Mary asked. “Like, with a huge screen?” “Yeah. It’s pretty cool. When I finally get round to buying a house I’m gonna build one too.” “Do you think I could watch something in there tonight?”

“Mary,” Frank started to warn her but Fliss smiled.

“Frank it’s okay.” she said. “And yeah, course you can. If you have a favourite DVD we can take that or you can pick. We have loads on the hard-drive and Sky.”

It wasn’t long before they were sat round the small kitchen table which had been pulled into the living room to allow them more room. Frank and Mary both showed Fliss their favourite thing to eat in the world- Chicken Nugget Sandwiches. After a sceptical look, Fliss leaned over to take a bite of Frank’s as he offered it and gave a small laugh announcing that it was actually pretty good. After a large slice of Chocolate cake each that had been made for them by Roberta, they collapsed onto the sofa, Mary once more on the rug, Fliss groaning about the “food baby” she was growing, rubbing her hand over her stomach.

“Hey Frank?” Mary looked at him. “Is it time now?”

It took Frank a moment and then he realised what Mary was talking about. “Oh, yeah, hang on…”

He hopped off the sofa and headed into his bedroom, pulling the small gift bag from his dresser. He walked back into the living room and sat back down, shyly handing it to her.

“You got me a gift?” Fliss’ eyes went wide.

“Yeah.” Frank shrugged.

“You really shouldn’t have…” Fliss looked at him. “I didn’t get you two anything…” “That’s not the point of giving a gift.” Mary looked at her sternly. “You don’t give to receive, right Frank?”

“Right.” Frank nodded, leaning back on the sofa, looking at Fliss “And I wanted to…” he gestured between him and Mary where she was sat, Fred crawling into her lap, “…we wanted to, say thank you for everything over the last few months.” Fliss smiled at him and then Frank saw a childish excitement cross her face “Can I open it now?” He nodded, glad she was going to as he wanted to see her face when she did.

With delicate fingers she gently undid the ribbon that the woman at the store had wrapped it with and her mouth dropped open when she saw the white box which was emblazoned with the Pandora name and logo

“Frank,” she looked at him, before she opened the box and stared at the contents. She blinked before her hand gently covered her mouth as she saw the silver charm bracelet that was inside.

“I thought it was time you started a new one, for new memories.” He said gently as she reached into the box and took out the bracelet which held a single charm in the shape of a boat.

Fliss swallowed, and her eyes filled with tears. “I…” She took a deep breath and Frank frowned as he saw her struggling for composure.

“Hey,” he said, turning sideways on the sofa. His hand gently rubbed up her arm and she fell into him, pressing her face to his chest as he wrapped his arms round her.

“You made Fliss cry. On Thanksgiving.” Mary deadpanned, throwing a ping pong ball for Fred.

“Why don’t you go do that outside?” Frank asked. “Stay on the step.” Mary shrugged and stood up, doing as she was told.

“You ok?” He asked Fliss softly as his hands rubbed at her back. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and she nodded taking a deep breath.

“Sorry, that was…” she sat back, wiping her eyes. “Absolutely fucking ridiculous…”

“You do like it right?” he asked, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“Baby, I love it.” She smiled at him, and he felt his chest swell not only at the fact she liked the gift, but that was the first time she’d used that particular pet name, and he kinda liked it. “I just, well, I can’t believe you remembered about my bracelets.”

He shrugged as she reached out to gently cup his cheek.

“Thank you.” she smiled softly, leaning over to kiss him. He happily leaned into the kiss, his tongue snaking into her mouth, sliding against hers as she met him movement for movement before there was a light cough and Frank groaned, resting his forehead against Fliss’ as he turned to look at Mary.

“What?”

“Need another ping pong ball. The last one flew under Roberta’s BBQ and I aint going under there…spiders and stuff.” She headed to the box at the back of the room, dug in and retrieved a net of ping pong balls, digging one out.

“Wanna go outside?” Frank asked and Fliss nodded. He stood up and held out his hand, pulling her up with him and they headed out after Mary.

A little while later, after a game of tag on the lawn which resulted in both the girls tackling Frank to the floor in a huge tickle fight, Fliss noting that he was ridiculously ticklish and filing it for future reference, they headed back inside, grabbed their things and after an almost tantrum from Mary who wanted to bring Fred and Frank refusing, they headed off in Fliss’ jeep for the yard to do the final checks for the evening. They were just about to head up to the field to make sure all the horses were settled and the waters were topped up when Bill walked onto the yard.

“Shouldn’t you be with mum getting stuff ready for the party?” Fliss frowned at her Dad, surprised to see him.

“Are you joking!” Bill scoffed “You know what she’s like.” He coughed and then put on a light, airey voice “Bill, those champagne flutes are grouped in threes, not fours. No, those plates don’t go there, they go there. What are you doing with that cheeseboard, the grapes go in the middle…”

Frank felt his eyebrow raise slightly as Fliss laughed. Champagne, cheeseboards? This was not the type of party he was used to, at all.

“Oh don’t worry.” Fliss clocked his face. “It descends into debauchery and chaos after about an hour, mum just likes to play the part of hostess with the mostess…”

“I like cheese.” Mary piped up.

“Good, we got plenty of it.” Bill said. “But, anyway, I dropped by for a reason. I picked something up earlier this afternoon that I think you might like.”

“Me?” Fliss frowned, but before she could say anything else Frank’s attention was taken by a man who was walking down the side of the barn. He slightly taller than Frank, quite stocky and had a shock of dark brown hair and looked ridiculously like Bill. Fliss gave a little shriek and ran towards the man, throwing herself into his arms as he laughed, twirling her round slightly before he dropped her to the floor.

“That’s her brother.” Mary supplied and Frank gave her a look.

“Yeah I kinda figured that.” He rolled his eyes. “How do you know anyway?”

“Saw a photo of him.” Mary shrugged.

Frank turned his attention back to the two siblings and Fliss was now looking between her father and her brother, confusion on her face. “What, I mean, how, why are you here?”

“In New York for a stag do on Saturday.” Steve replied “Thought I’d take the chance and pop down here for a day or so.”

“Does Mum know you’re here?” she asked.

“Yeah, she does now.” he laughed “There were a few tears when I rocked up.” “Frank made Fliss cry before.” Mary said, and all attention turned to Frank who hung his head and let out an audible groan.

“Seriously?” He looked at her as Fliss burst out laughing.

“Because I was happy.” She said, shaking her head “He bought me a new Pandora.” Frank didn’t miss the exchange of looks between father and son, both wearing identical expressions of surprise which morphed into soft smiles as Fliss moved and slid under Frank’s arm.

“Frankie, this is my brother Steve.” she smiled, as Steve stepped forward, holding his hand out. “Or Steeb, Steeby…whatever you want to call him.” “Nice to meet you.” Frank smiled as Steve shook his hand, his grip firm.

“Likewise.” Steve smiled “Heard a lot about you.” He then turned to his left and looked down “And you must be Mary.” “Yup,” She smiled, looking at him “Did you bring your kids?”

“Mary.” Frank warned gently as he looked at her, shaking his head.

“What?” She asked, “I was just asking a question. I wanted to meet them.” “No, not this time.” Steve smiled “Just a flying visit. But they’re coming over for Christmas so I’ve no doubt you’ll get to see them then.” He straightened up and smiled at Fliss. “Where’s that grumpy ginger Nag?” Fliss narrowed her eyes “Don’t you talk about Heidi like that. She’s in the top field.”

“I thought he was talking about V.” Bill mumbled to Frank who gave a snort, and then looked at the man, the pair of them bursting into laughter. By the time they had composed themselves, Steve and Fliss were stood, watching the pair of them, hands on their hips in almost identical poses.

“They do this all the time.” Fliss shook her head. “Come on, I’ll take you to see H. I was on my way up to check them all anyway. You coming Stack?” she looked at Mary. Mary grinned and ran forward, linking her hand into Fliss’.

Frank miss the eyebrow raised on Steve’s face, before the man smiled softly, dropping an arm round Fliss’ shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

*****

Fliss changed quickly when they were home into a pair of jeans, a strappy top and a pair of sandals before the three of them walked over to the house after another near argument about getting Mary to leave the bucket of lego she had brought with her in the annex, which Fliss cleverly managed to avoid with the mention of the Cinema Room.

The house was busy, not packed but busy, and there was no way Frank was going to remember everyone’s names. But he smiled and shook hands as Bill introduced him to people, and he was surprised to find he felt at ease. Most of the people were older than him and Fliss, bar her brother of course, and it was a different circle and class of people he would normally mix with but he certainly didn’t feel like any of them were looking down at him, a stark contrast to how he used to feel at his Mother’s parties.

Well, they weren’t really parties, more like a gathering which rich snobs used to brag to other rich snobs about how much money they had.

“And this is Mike, Martin and Keith.” Bill said, nodding to the final three men, one of whom was giving Fliss a hug.

“You look great!” She beamed at him “How much weight have you lost now?” “40lb.” the man called Keith nodded and Fliss grinned.

“That’s awesome.”

“All down to the golf.” He smiled, gesturing to Mike, Martin and Bill “These guys drag me up there regularly enough.” “Frank hates golf.” Mary said. “Says it ruins a good walk.”

There was a pause as Frank groaned, wanting the ground to open and swallow him. He glared at Mary who looked at him, frowning.

“What?” She asked as Bill suddenly began to roar with laughter, the other men joining in.

Frank shook his head and looked round. “It’s just not my thing…”he said, by means of an explanation. “I prefer playing basket ball or baseball.”

“Each to their own.” The man called Martin beamed. “To be honest when I was your age I hated it too. Was far more into drinking and women.” “Frank likes that too.” Mary said, and Frank then really did give her a look.

“Shut up.” He said, but of course she didn’t as the men continued to laugh.

“Although I’m glad he finally got together with Fliss, because she’s my favourite. Miss Stevenson would not have been a good choice.” Frank groaned again and he felt Fliss beginning to chuckle besides him.

“Miss Stevenson?” Bill asked.

“We don’t need to hear about that…” Frank said, his neck growing hot.

“She’s my teacher.” Mary nodded “She stayed at our house one night. I wasn’t supposed to be there but I saw her coming out of the bathroom wearing Frank’s sheets and…” “Ok, Mary, why don’t we go and see the Cinema Room.” Fliss hastily cut her off as the three men were now all howling with laughter.

“Oh, okay.” she shrugged, before she pondered something “Why was she in your sheets Frank, and not in a towel like Lissy was before?”

At that Bill arched an eyebrow and Fliss felt her cheeks grow warm “I had a shower, I’d mucked twelve stabled out.” There was a pause before she recovered and steered Mary out of the room.

Frank grimaced and looked back round as Bill patted him on the shoulder, wiping tears of mirth out of his eyes. “I bloody love that kid.”

“She’s yours if you want her.” Frank said. “I could gift-wrap her for you. Just say goodbye to your private life being private.”

Thankfully the Cinema Room kept Mary out of the way, especially when she had a stash of popcorn, sweets and soda to keep her occupied. For the next few hours Frank stuck mostly by Fliss’ side, talking to people, chatting to her brother a bit about his job and the business he had taken over from Bill, his kids, but Frank got the impression the man was being a little guarded with him. He was polite enough, and wasn’t being rude but he wasn’t overly warm either. But he supposed that was understandable. She was Fliss’ big brother after all.

Mary came down a few hours later and tugged on Fliss’ hand. Fliss went with her and Frank headed into the kitchen to grab himself another beer after being told by Verity to “stop asking and just go get”. He turned round, flipping the lid off, almost bumping into Bill.

“Sorry.” He apologised to the man who smiled at him as he held the fridge door open.

“There’s someone who just arrived that I want you to meet.” Bill said, gesturing for Frank to follow him. With a slight puzzled frown, he did as he was told and wandered through to the large lounge where a number of people were congregated.

“Frank, this is Alan Maxwell.” Bill introduced a short, stocky white haired man who was wearing a pair of modern thin-rimmed glasses and a cream blazer over a dark polo necked shirt and dark jeans. Frank took him in, noting his outfit probably cost more than Frank’s entire wardrobe.

“Hi.” Frank smiled, shaking his hand “Frank Adler”

“The boat mechanic?” Alan asked.

“Yeah.” Frank looked at him then to Bill, frowning a little.

“Alan’s in the Repair and Retail business.” Bill offered and Frank gave a nod of understanding.

“I own MarineMax in St Pete’s” Alan smiled.

“Oh on Gulfport?” Frank looked at him and Alan nodded.

“You know it?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Frank scratch at the back of his neck “I errr, I applied for a job once but I didn’t have the relevant experience so…” Alan looked at Frank for a moment, “How long you been a mechanic now?”

“Over six and a half years.”

“And you’re freelancing?” Frank nodded.

“Good success rate?”

“Over ninety-eight percent.” Frank said. “I mean, I only do one boat at a time because I’ve been juggling my hours around Mary for the last 7 years but…” he shrugged “I have regulars who come back so I must be doing something right.” “Could you get references?”

“Yeah.” Frank nodded “Pretty sure I could.”

“Hmmmm.” Alan looked at Bill who inclined his head towards Frank with a smile.

“I told you, I’ll vouch for him.” he shrugged “He’s sleeping with my daughter after all.”

“Jesus Bill.” Frank groaned as the two men laughed.

“It’s a compliment” Bill smiled “If I didn’t trust you I wouldn’t let you within three foot of her”

“Thanks, I think.” Frank looked at him taking a drink of his beer.

“Come see me next week.” Alan looked at Frank, pulling a card from his wallet and handing it over “I may have a position you’d be interested in.”

“I errr…” Frank was temporarily sideswiped by the suggestion “I…that would be…”

“I know it will be different to freelance but it’s a full time job, full package of benefits and a negotiable wage plus bonus scheme.” Alan said, “I’m not a huge outfit, but I pay my guys well.” Frank nodded, placing the card in his pocket “I’ll stop by.” “Just give me a call the day before and I’ll make sure I’m around.”

“I will.” Frank nodded. “Thank you.”

Frank made his excuses, realising he hadn’t seen Fliss for a while and headed off looking for her. He moved from room to room, realising there was no sign of her or Mary. He headed into the kitchen and then poked his head out of the large bi-folding doors which led onto the large raised decking area which spanned the length of the house.

“Hey.” Frank spotted Fliss’ brother leaning on the railing, lit cigarette in one hand, beer in the other. “You seen Lissy?”

“She was in the living room last time I saw her.” Steve said chuckling slightly, shaking his head.

Frank frowned at the man’s demeanour and Steve noticed, and smiled. “Sorry, just seems strange. Hearing someone else call her Liss or Lissy other than the family.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda picked it up from Bill and it stuck.” Frank smiled.

“Yeah she doesn’t suit Felicity.” Steve shook his head “Although that’s all he ever fucking called her. Apparently nicknames were deemed too common.” “Yeah well, he’s a dick.” Frank shrugged

“No arguments here.” Steve looked at Frank. Frank watched as the man studied him for a second, clearly thinking about something before he returned to leaning on the rail of the decking, looking down over the huge garden area as he took a final drag from the cigarette, before stubbing it out in the fire bucket to his right.

“Okay,” Frank stepped outside, “let’s have it.” “Have what?” Steve asked, looking at him.

“The big brother lecture. The one where you threaten to rip my head off if I hurt your sister.” Frank said as Steve gave a huff of a laugh.

“Well, rest assured I will.” Steve looked at Frank as he too leaned on the railings. “But Dad says you’re a good bloke so, that’ll do for me.” Frank nodded and took a pull of his beer. “I have no intention of hurting her, in anyway.” he said, his voice loaded with meaning and Steve sighed.

“I know.” he said gently “I just, well, I worry.” “Understandable.” Frank nodded, and it was. He got it, he really did.

“I hated that fucker.” Steve shook his head, “right from the start. Smarmy assed, stuck up Yank. Sorry, no offence.” Frank laughed “Non-taken.” he waved Steve’s apology away.

“I know she’s only actually my step-sister but well she was only two when I met her and…”

“Blood doesn’t make you family.” Frank nodded. “If you ever meet my mother you’ll realise that.” “Yeah, Fliss wasn’t very complementary of her.” Steve snorted.

“She called her a cold hearted bitch to her face.” Frank raised an eyebrow as Steve laughed.

“I shouldn’t be pleased at that.” Steve smiled. “But not long ago she wouldn’t have been brave enough to be that outgoing.” “Oh she certainly isn’t backwards in coming forwards.” Frank shook his head

“Something he managed to suck out of her.” Steve sighed.

“You know, I’d love to get that fucker alone in a room” Frank glowered. “Five minutes, that’s all I’d need.” “Get in line.” Steve shrugged, “Behind me and dad.” “Yeah, Fliss said something about there being a queue.”

“The day she said she was moving to Boston to be with him full time, it was the worst day of my life. And Mum and Dad’s” Steve took another drink. “But we knew if we tried to stop her it would give him the perfect excuse to turn her against us. So what could we do but support it?” He hung his head slightly and Frank’s brow furrowed at the man’s open display of vulnerability

“I wish we’d done more, you know, anything, but we didn’t know how bad things had got. Not that he was hurting her, not like that.” “None of it was your fault.” Frank looked at him. “Or your parent’s. Or Fliss’”

“No, I know that but it doesn’t stop any of us feeling guilty.” Steve sighed. “But, anyway, it’s in the past now. That is until he goes for parole, which he will.” Frank shrugged “We’ll greet that when it happens.”

“Yeah?” Steve looked at him. “You ready for all that? Because I guarantee what she’s told you, well it won’t even scratch the surface, Frank.”

“Are you asking me if I’m gonna bail when the going gets tough?”

“Suppose I am, yeah.” Steve looked at him.

Frank took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose, quelling the frustration that was brewing at the man’s questioning, reminding himself that he had a right to worry, a right to be concerned. He’d feel the same if it was Diane in this position.

“Look, Steve, I know she hasn’t told me everything. And I’m not gonna push her to either. It isn’t important to me to know every sordid little detail of what that cunt did to her. What is important is that she’s happy with me, and that she feels safe and knows that I’d never hurt her like that and I sure as hell won’t abandon her when the road gets a little bumpy. She was there for me through a very bad time recently and, well…” Frank shrugged, “even if we decide that what we have isn’t working I’d still be by her side.”

Steve’s face remained passive for a second before it split into a grin “I don’t think there’s any worry about that, Frank. From what I’ve seen this afternoon and this evening, Lissy’s besotted. In fact, I’ve never seen her like this before.” Frank felt his cheeks flush a little and he looked down “Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something else but they were interrupted.

“My ears burning?” Fliss asked, eyeing the two men up.

“I was just making sure his intentions are honourable.” Fliss rolled her eyes with a snort “his intentions are honourable? What are you, like ninety?”

Steve shrugged “No, but I’m three years older than you and still your big brother Titch.” “Whatever, Steeby.” She moved over to where Frank was stood and slid under his arm. “Quit with the 3rd degree or I’ll tell Mum you’ve been smoking.”

“You wouldn’t!” he said in mock horror as she raised an eyebrow. Steve turned to Frank and raised his eyebrow, jerking his head towards his sister “Sure you know what you’re letting yourself in for?”

Frank laughed “her bark is worse than her bite…owww!” he said, as she nipped his arm.

“Sure it is.” Steve winked as h pushed himself off the railing and headed inside.

“Was he being an ass hole?” Fliss watched him go before she turned to Frank and he chuckled, pulling her closer.

“No,not at all.” he said, dropping a kiss to her lips “Where’s Mary?”

“With Dad in the living room with the guys from the golf club.” she said, shrugging.

“No doubt revealing more of my dark secrets.” Frank groaned.

Fliss laughed “Nah, she’s got her lego. Bill and her will have some kind of building contest going on no doubt.”

“I told her to leave those in the annex.” Frank shook his head. “She did. I took her to get them.” Fliss shrugged

“Seriously?” Frank looked at her, rolling his eyes.

“What? She was bored and wanted something to do.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” he said, his arms circling her and she grinned as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“Hush, Sailor, you love it.” she smirked against his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” he muttered, pulling her closer for a deeper kiss.

******

It was about midnight when the party started filtering out. Mary was crashed out on one of the sofas so Frank suggested they call it a night and Fliss, feeling the effects of a fair amount of alcohol, agreed. They made their goodbyes and Frank easily scooped Mary up and the three of them made their way, a little slower than usual, to the annex.

Once they’d roused Mary and she’d changed for bed Frank tucked her in, in the bed in the spare room and she was flat out before he even closed the door. He headed into Fliss’ room and laughed as she was led on the bed with her legs over the edge, feet flat on the floor. She was wearing just her bra and jeans, and her arm was bent over her eyes.

“My jeans are too tight.” she said.

“What?” Frank laughed.

“I can’t be bothered to take them off.” She leant up on her elbows and ginned at him “Wanna help me out Sailor?”

“Happily.” he grinned, and moved towards her but she stopped him.

“Ah ah.” she pointed to his polo-shirt. “Off.” With an arch of his eyebrow he reached back and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, pulling it over his head. “Better?”

“Yup.” she nodded as he moved towards her, gently dropping down and undoing her jeans. With a tug he pulled them down over her thighs, his hands softly tracing up her skin as she sighed, before his lips met hers.

“You were a hit in there.” she smiled gently, her fingers tracing the muscles on his arms as he propped himself up over her.

“Yeah?” he asked, gently shifting so that she moved with him, laying further up the bed.

She nodded. “Charmed the pants off all the posh bastards you did, Adler.” “There’s only one person I’m interested in charming the pants off.” He quipped and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Smooth.” “Is it working?”

She glanced down. “Nope, they’re still on.”

“Guess I’ll have to use my hands then.” He said, and with a quick move down he slid them over her ankles and gently pressed his lips to her knee, trailing soft kisses up the inside of her leg, nipping at the inside of her thigh. Fliss gave a soft sigh as he moved, his short beard scratching at her skin as he moved, her hands fisting in the sheets. When he reached his target he gently placed a long lick up her entrance. Instinctively, one of her hands fisted in his hair before she hastily moved it and Frank paused, reaching up, and placing it back where it had been.

“I like it.” He peeked up at her, a cheeky look on his face before he dropped his head back down and Fliss’s head fell back against her pillow as she gave a shaky moan.

She couldn’t remember the last time a man had gone down on her. John had certainly never done it, making it clear from the start he found it disgusting, but still happy to shove his dick in her mouth when he wanted a blow. But Frank ate her out like a man starved, moving his mouth as he paid attention to how her body reacted and when he found her spot, she gave a cry, her back arching off the bed, and she felt him double his efforts, his lips and tongue teasing her, in a delectable way. Pleasure lanced through her entire body, the heat rising from her very toes and as she felt her orgasm rising her fingers tightened on his hair and he gave a low moan at her touch, which vibrated through his mouth right against her clit and that was it. Her hips bucked upwards as she came, hard, her knees tightened slightly around his head, her arm flying to her mouth to stifle her loud moan.

Working her through her release, Frank moved back, stripping off the remainder of his clothes before he crawled up her body again, kissing his way up from her naval to her chest. She arched her back and he reached around to unhook her bra before he set his attention to her breasts. Fuck, he could listen to the noises and whimpers she was making all day but after a week he was aching for her.

“You got any…” he started to ask softly and she nodded, her hand gesturing to her bedside table. He paused and pulled open the drawer, and had to smirk as he saw the new, full packet of condoms in there. Pulling one out he opened it, whilst Fliss gently gave his dick a stroke causing him to hiss slightly, his fingers fumbling on the foil and she grinned.

“Something distracting you, Sailor?” “You know damned well what’s distracting me.” His voice was almost a growl as her hand moved over his whilst he rolled the latex down.

Her giggle turned to a moan as he buried himself inside her, his entire body feeling coiled like a spring, and his thrusts began slow, and deep before soon she was begging for more and he picked up the pace, each movement rolling against her spot, causing her to breathlessly whisper his name as he buried his face into her neck, nipping and biting at that spot that drove her wild. At some point she moved, gently pushing on his shoulders, and he understood, rolling onto his back. She straddled him, pulling her long hair over one shoulder as she leaned down to draw him into a deep, sultry kiss before she sank down onto him, taking him in.

“Fuck, Lissy,” he said, his hands gently gripping her hips as she began to move, rolling her pelvis, “God you feel so good.” She preened at his praise, yup, she definitely had a praise kink, and her pace quickened as she leaned forward again to kiss him, a moan falling from her mouth as he raised his hips to meet hers, his fingers tightening on her hips. Frank looked up at her, her mouth slack, lips plump, freckles still visible in the soft light from the outside lights, breasts bouncing softly as she moved.

“So beautiful.” He whispered, sitting up and she cried out at the change of depth as he pulled her close, thrusting up into her.

“Frankie, I’m…” and with a low whine her head tipped back as her release washed over her for the second time that night, a slow, deep burn which left her slack in his arms, as she collapsed forward. After a few more desperate thrusts he was right behind her, clinging to her, his face buried into her shoulder, his own groans stifled in her skin.

They stayed like that for a little while, both recovering, hands softly dancing over skin before he leaned up to give her a soft kiss.

“Thank you.” She whispered and he pulled back, frowning a little.

“What for?”

“For making me feel good. For making me feel wanted.” She swallowed, tears filling her eyes and Frank let out a sigh, his arms curling round her, pulling her close, his own chest tightening at her words as he understood instantly that it was clearly something she wasn’t used to.

“You deserve it.” He spoke softly, , “Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

She moved back, her hands cupping his cheeks as she gave him another deep kiss, her lips curling into a smile and Frank smiled back, before he kissed her again.

***** Frank woke the next morning and, as he blinked, he realised he was alone. Sitting up he rubbed his eyes, and could hear soft voices from elsewhere in the annex. Grabbing his phone he looked down and with a start realised it was past ten. Running a hand over his face, he climbed out of bed, grabbed his bag and retrieved a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt before retrieving his jeans which were now folded and placed over the back of the chair by Fliss’ vanity unit. After sorting himself in the bathroom he made his way downstairs and found Fliss and Mary sat outside in the small yard, an array of breakfast items on the table. Fliss long hair was pulled into a messy pony tail and she was wearing an oversized shirt and a pair of denim jeans. Even like that she looked effortlessly gorgeous.

“Morning.” He greeted, stepping out onto the decking and Fliss smiled at him.

“Hey.” She smiled, accepting the kiss he dropped onto her cheek before he sat down next to her. “Sleep well.”

“Hmmm I was tired for some reason.” He quipped, causing her to grin.

“Fliss says I can go ride Monty today.” Mary looked at Frank. “Is that ok?”

“It’s not your week for a lesson.” Frank spoke.“And it’s Friday.”

“It’s ok.” Fliss smiled. “The riding school is shut. Joanne’s done the morning shift so we can just go up this afternoon. I need to work Cap and Bronson but she can ride if she wants.” “Please.” Mary looked at Frank who sighed.

“I’ve gotta nip to the boat yard.” he looked at her. “Got some guy who needs a motor looking at and I said I’d meet him today.” “I don’t wanna go to the boat yard.” Mary pouted.

“It’s okay, she can come with me.” Fliss offered “I don’t mind, honestly.”

Frank hesitated, he didn’t want Fliss to think she was obliged to take Mary. He knew that the pair of them came as a package but still.

“You sure?” Frank asked. “Roberta would normally take her but she’s not back until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, its fine.” Fliss nodded “She can help me and Joanne.”

“Okay then, yeah, you can go.”

Mary grinned and turned her attention back to her book.

“You want breakfast?” Fliss asked, moving to stand.

“I’ll get it. You stay there.” Frank offered, but Mary suddenly jumped up.

“No it’s okay, we made you something special…” With that she shot into the kitchen.

“Special?” Frank looked at Fliss, and she grinned as his lips met hers.

“Yeah.” she nodded to Mary who emerged from the kitchen, giggling. Frank gave a snort of a laugh and shook his head as she thrust the box of Special K into his hands.

“Thanks…” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

**** Chapter 12

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic

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erin-bo-berin · 5 years ago

Text

Baby Shoes

MASTERLIST

Finally, this fic is here! This takes place over the course of a year and is told from Spencer’s perspective and how he handles his grief. Also, just a note. I’m aware I jumped from two months to four months. At first, I was going to do like every couple of months, but then I had ideas for the upcoming months and just left it like that. So just a heads up, it’s not a typo.

TRIGGER WARNING for anyone who’s ever went through a miscarriage. I don’t know if anyone who has might stumble upon this, but if you aren’t in the right headspace to read something like this then please don’t. Even though this is a work of fiction, I know it’s a very real, hard and triggering subject for some. So if you’re in a bad headspace and find yourself not being able to read this, I understand completely.

Sit back, relax (maybe with some tissues cause this hurt to write) and enjoy all 11k words. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (angst)

Word Count: 11,051

Spencer woke to sounds of laughter.

He opened his eyes to see early morning rays of sunlight streaming through the cracked blinds. He figured it had to be around 7:00, maybe 7:30.

He tossed the sheets off his body, getting out of bed.

He could hear Y/N’s voice as he walked down the hall from the bedroom, heading towards the kitchen. He recognized another sound as the television playing, as well.

The scent of freshly cooked bacon wafted from the direction of the kitchen. He thought he smelled pancakes too.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he saw Y/N at the stove fixing breakfast, their little girl sitting at her feet on the floor, chewing on a toy of hers.

Sensing his entrance, her tiny head turned, grinning big when she spotted him.

She was quite literally the perfect mixture of him and Y/N. She had his curls, but Y/N’s hair color. Her eye shape and color was all Spencer, but her lips and mouth came from Y/N. She had Spencer’s nose, yet Y/N’s face shape. Her smile was as bright as her father’s and her skin the shade of her mother’s.

It seemed, in theory, to be the weirdest combination of small features from both of them, but it worked. She was the most perfect little girl.

But then again, he was a tad bit biased.

The toy fell from her fist to the floor with a clang, forgotten for the moment as she crawled in his direction.

“Da da da da,” she babbled.

Y/N turned, finally noticing Spencer’s entrance.

“Morning,” she grinned at him, “You must’ve slept well, your bed head is insane.”

He chuckled, picking his little girl up in his arms, running the fingers of his free hand through his hair.

“Well I guess I know where her crazy bed head comes from,” he grinned, motioning to his daughter.

“I’ll say,” Y/N shook her head, exasperated, “By the way, breakfast is almost ready.”

He snatched a piece of bacon and took a bite, keeping it out of reach of the grabby baby hands.

“Do you mind feeding her while I finish this up? She’s getting hungry.”

“Sure,” he smiled, carrying her to her high chair, sitting her in it.

She immediately started fussing. She hated being constricted. Whether it was her high chair or her carrier, she wasn’t much of a happy camper not being able to be on the move.

“I know, baby,” he cooed, “But daddy’s got breakfast for you.”

He grabbed the plate of cut up scrambled eggs and put some on the tray of her high chair. She stopped fussing, reaching a hand for the fluffy egg. Apparently, if food was involved, she’d tolerate being in the chair.

She held out a piece of egg to Spencer and he ate it out of her hand, making her smile big. His heart was so full of love for his daughter that he didn’t think it could expand any more than it already had. But every day, his heart grew just a little bit more, his love for her ever growing for as she herself grew.

He ran a hand over her mess of curls, kissing her head.

“I love you, baby girl.”

That was when his alarm rang.

Spencer laid awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. This time, he was awake for real.

This time, he was waking to reality.

His heart twisted painfully as he remembered the dream he’d had. One that was always recurring, one way or another.

What hurt the most was the fact that the dream represented exactly what his life was supposed to look like.

But life, as many knew, could be unfairly cruel.

•

It had been January 3rd.

The holiday season had officially wrapped up; everyone was still in a holiday hangover mode and probably going back to work and school.

But for Spencer, it was the best day ever.

Y/N had taken at least half a dozen pregnancy tests, unbeknownst to him, before she finally told him.

He’d about fell off the couch in alarm when he’d heard her shriek from the bathroom. In a flash, he’d rushed to the bathroom, fearing something was wrong. He paused at the doorway, where she had been about to exit, to find him.

“What’s wrong?!” he asked, clearly panicked.

His eyes quickly scanned her for any injuries, blood, anything wrong. But she was crying. And smiling. The two displays of emotion couldn’t seem to connect in his brain, his worry clouding his thinking. He was so preoccupied with making sure she was okay, that he didn’t even notice the spread of pregnancy tests that laid on their bathroom counter.

“Y/N, what’s the matter? Are you okay?”

He was reaching out to her, when she spoke.

“I’m pregnant,” she said, her smile growing even more impossibly wide.

Spencer was so stunned for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. It was as if it took a minute for the words to leave her mouth and reach his brain.

Her forehead creased, now concerned that he wasn’t as happy about the news as she was.

Then, it finally clicked.

“You’re pregnant?!” he exclaimed, his entire face lighting up.

He was smiling so big; his dazzling smile was showing off his perfect teeth. His eyes that sparkled with joy were also crinkling at the corners. It was one of Y/N’s favorite looks on him. It was hard not to be happy when he smiled so big.

She nodded, still a bit apprehensive at his hesitation. She showed him the test.

“I’ve taken six. All came back positive.”

Then he did something that really surprised her. Spencer quite literally hooted from joy. His arms wrapped around her, hugging her tightly as he spun her around a time or two.

Her squeals of laughter warmed his heart as she clung to him, her face buried in his neck. He could feel her smile against his skin.

They had talked in depth about having children many, many times before. They both adored kids with all of their hearts and wanted to have their own some day. In fact, it most likely wasn’t a typical day unless one or the other made some sort of mention about their future kids.

They hadn’t been actively trying though. It was more of a case for them of letting it happen when it was supposed to happen. Apparently, it was in the cards for them that it happened sooner than they even expected it to.

“So you’re not upset, are you?” she asked when he finally set her down.

She chewed at her bottom lip. Something she tended to do when she was nervous.

She was still the tiniest bit concerned after seeing his blank face for the first couple of seconds.

“No! No,” Spencer reassured her, “You just caught me so off guard that it took me a minute to realize what you’d actually said.”

She chuckled.

“I know. I actually did a double take when I took the first test. I didn’t believe it, so I obviously had to check...five more times. Guess that explains why I almost puked at the smell of the turkey at Christmas.”

Spencer smiled, his hand resting on her stomach. It would still be a while before the signs of pregnancy would start to appear, but the thought of this tiny child that they’d both created was currently growing inside of her still amazed him.

His eyes met hers, their excitement and joy mirroring one another’s.

It was going to be the start of an amazing new year.

•

A doctor’s appointment was scheduled to confirm the pregnancy.

After blood work and the other necessities, it was confirmed that Y/N was around six weeks pregnant. Spencer was overjoyed.

A due date of August 9th was set. Then it was time for the ultrasound.

A tiny nugget appeared on the screen. It literally looked like the size of a peanut.

“It’s our little peanut,” Spencer smiled, squeezing her hand.

Thus, the nickname Peanut was born. They’d use it at least until they found out the sex of the baby. Until then, Peanut it would be.

They both gazed in awe at the ultrasound screen as the tech checked to make sure everything was on track with the pregnancy, the baby was growing well, etc. It was surreal to Spencer to see this tiny life on the screen. One that ultimately belonged to both Y/N and him.

He didn’t expect to feel such an overwhelming amount of emotions as he was currently experiencing.

He was happy, of course. He was nervous; becoming a parent was a big deal. That along with fear melded together as one, he was going to be partially responsible for this child.

He felt awe, he felt surprise, still not able to believe this was real.

But most importantly, he felt love. His heart was so filled with it. For the baby that he would meet at the end of this summer, for Y/N, the love of his life and all she was going to experience in the coming months to give this child shelter and then eventually, life.

After the appointment and with a copy of the ultrasound in hand, they headed home. He couldn’t wait to show the team the picture.

This baby wasn’t even a full two months old yet, but he was already so proud of his child.

“He or she will definitely have your nose. I will riot if they don’t,” Y/N chuckled, looking at the picture.

“What? Why?”

His light laugh filled the car, amused by her statement.

“Because you have the cutest nose ever and our baby better have it,” Y/N pointed out.

It was then a thought occurred to him.

“I need to make a quick stop.”

Twenty minutes later, Spencer had returned to the car, a bag in hand. He’d made Y/N wait in the car while he chose his item. It was going to be a surprise.

“What’d you get?” she asked, trying to reach for the bag.

“Nuh uh,” he tutted, “It’s just something for the baby.”

He set the bag in the backseat, on the floor behind the driver’s seat where she couldn’t reach.

“Well then why can’t I see?”

“I want it to be a surprise,” he smiled.

He thought back to earlier in the store when he finally found what he had been looking for. He held one in the palm of his hand, amazed at how small they were.

They were perfect.

He paid for them and walked out with his new purchase, anxious to surprise Y/N at a later date with them.

They were a pair of baby converse shoes, in black, just like Spencer’s.

•

The entirety of the BAU were thrilled with the news. From the team to even other members who Spencer very rarely, if ever, worked with.

The ultrasound picture was passed around, Spencer beaming the entire time as they gave their congratulations, hugs, kisses and high fives.

“What do you know? The day has finally come that Dr. Spencer Reid has created offspring,” Luke Alvez joked.

“Hush,” Penelope Garcia scolded her boyfriend, “We’re all so excited for you, Spencer.”

“I knew it would happen,” Jennifer Jareau smiled, gazing at the picture, “Finally I get to be an aunt.”

David Rossi even threw a small celebration for them at his house for them with amazing, authentic Italian food and good wine—well, sparkling juice for Y/N.

There were many jokes, many smiles, many laughs and a lot of love.

Spencer was on cloud nine.

It was the best month ever.

•

January flew by.

Spencer was constantly busy with both his work and home life.

He and Y/N spent hours online looking at pictures for nursery inspiration. They looked at cribs, toys, clothes, both for little boys and little girls, dreaming of how cute Peanut would look in said outfit.

They researched names, already tossing names back and forth to get a feel of what one another liked and didn’t like.

He was relieved to know that so far, the first trimester had been pretty good to Y/N. Other than exhaustion and mild nausea, no other symptoms seemed to plague her at the moment.

Spencer could hardly wait for the weeks to pass. He was excited to watch their baby grow both inside the womb and outside.

It was another typical night getting ready for bed after a long day. Work had been long hours of paperwork on the latest case they’d just wrapped up.

As he had been doing, Spencer rubbed Y/N’s belly, talking to Peanut before settling in for the night.

“Good night Peanut,” he kissed her belly, “Get a good night’s sleep so you can grow big and strong and finally show everyone you’re in there.”

She chuckled, knowing good and well that Spencer was anxious for the pregnancy bump to finally appear.

He kissed her, told her goodnight and wished her sweet dreams before falling asleep at just about the same time his head hit the pillow.

February 3rd had been just another normal day.

Spencer was shook awake and his eyes shot open, his first thought being that he’d overslept and was going to be late for work.

He sat up, noticing that instead of the morning light filling the room, there was only a small glow from the bedside lamp lighting the room. It was still dark outside.

“Spencer.”

Something in Y/N’s tone made his stomach clench in dread. Her voice was choked and slightly shaky.

He turned her way, as she pushed the covers back, his eyes landing on the alarming pool of red staining the bedsheet.

“I won’t stop bleeding,” her voice cracked.

The next hour was filled with a flurry of activity. Him rushing her to the hospital, the nerve wracking time spent waiting on the doctor, the tests, the blood. All the blood.

It was like crimson laughter in their faces.

The doctor’s words were the nail in the coffin.

“You’ve miscarried, I’m so sorry.”

They were separated for a short while during the necessary procedure, due to her heavy, incessant bleeding. She had only been ten weeks.

It was February 4th. The day they lost their baby.

•

One Day

The ride home was awkward and silent. No words could be said. They didn’t even know what to say.

She was traumatized, he could tell by the haunted look in her tearful eyes.

She’d had to have a D&C, known as a Dilation & Curettage, for medical reasons. The doctor was too concerned about the amount of blood she was losing to let her go home and miscarry naturally.

He obviously hadn’t been through the procedure himself, but he knew it had to be traumatizing to think of a foreign object having to scrape out the remnants of the failed pregnancy.

As he drove home, he couldn’t help but cruelly compare this ride home to the one just a month prior. He felt hollow, like he was stripped of all his emotions. He couldn’t even cry.

He’d never known such a deep pain.

Where does one go from that?

•

One Month

He tried his best to comfort Y/N, but nothing ever seemed to work.

He’d tried to hold her while she cried, but she didn’t want to be touched.

He’d tried talking to her, but she didn’t want to talk.

He’d tried finding a therapist for her to see, but she didn’t want to go.

The subject of the miscarriage was taboo. They never spoke of it. It felt as if it had been erased from their lives all together, like the remnants of chalk on a chalkboard.

His teammates were as devastated as he was, as if it was their own child they’d lost.

When he told them, there was no need for words. There were a lot of hugs, a lot of apologies, a lot of if you need anything, let me know.

No one said it would be okay. He hadn’t even said it to Y/N because it wasn’t okay. They’d lost their child. A baby that never had a chance to grow, never had a chance to meet the outside world, one they would never get to meet.

It had been a month and he hadn’t cried.

He figured Y/N had done enough crying for the both of them.

He felt like he didn’t deserve to cry. She was the one that had to go through the traumatic procedure, the one that had to discover the puddle of blood in the middle of the night. She was the one who blamed herself and her body for not being able to keep the baby alive.

He had no right to cry.

Sometimes, he heard her crying into her pillow at night when she thought he was asleep. He desperately wanted to hold her. He wanted to make everything okay. But he didn’t know if that was even possible.

It was one morning while he was getting ready for work when he found them.

He had just picked out his suit for the day from the closet when a bag tumbled and fell at his feet. He bent to pick it up, not realizing just yet what it was.

He peered inside, curiously, to see what it was before putting it back where it had fallen from.

His heart dropped when he spotted the pair of spotless, brand new baby Converse. He’d forgotten he’d hid it in the closet where Y/N wouldn’t find them, to surprise her later.

They had been forgotten amidst the chaos of the last several weeks.

He balled up the bag, stuffing it at the back of the closet where he didn’t have to see them again before shutting the door to both the closet and his heart.

•

Two Months

Spencer was thoroughly grateful for the recent heavy workload. Not that people being murdered was a good thing.

At least serial killers kept his mind busy.

“Spence, if you need some time off…” Emily Prentiss, friend, teammate and BAU Unit Chief offered hesitantly.

“Emily, I’m fine okay? Have I been doing a bad job lately?” Spencer asked.

“Well, no. You’ve been doing excellent work,” Emily answered, truthfully.

“Then there’s no problem, is there?”

She flinched just the tiniest bit at his sharper than normal tone. Most people would’ve missed it, but his trained, profiler eyes caught it.

“I’m just worried about you. You’ve been working a lot lately, staying late.”

He shrugged.

“Just staying on top of my work.”

“Is everything okay? Are you okay? You know, ever since…” she trailed off, hesitant to even mention the miscarriage.

That was something that was similar to how things at home were. No one mentioned the miscarriage and not out of respect, but more out of fear or the fact they just didn’t know what to say. He could see it in all their eyes though, always wondering.

He just wished they weren’t so worried about him. They could talk about it. He wouldn’t spontaneously lose it.

But at the same time, he was grateful they didn’t bring it up. Sometimes he was afraid that if the topic was broached that he would either break down or do the opposite and throw something.

Either way, work was ideal for keeping his mind focused.

“I’m okay.”

She seemed to believe him because she just nodded and left to head to her office without another word.

Work was about the only stable thing in his life right now.

He had gotten to where he dreaded going home because he couldn’t stand hearing Y/N cry. He never knew what to say.

Even when he’d tried, he always seemed to say the wrong thing.

How could he help her when she didn’t want to be helped?

Working late made it a bit easier to go home. He didn’t have to face her heartbreak.

She was usually asleep by the time he crawled into bed, something he silently was thankful for, even if it did make him feel like a shitty person.

She had just recently gotten her first period since losing the baby. That was as close as they had gotten to actually talking about it.

Apparently, this period was the worst she’d had. She’d curled up in bed with bad cramps and had hardly left it for the last few days.

He hoped it was only because of her period.

•

Four Months

People said some of the most disheartening things.

It was apparent that sometimes, people just didn’t know what to say in a situation. In fact, sometimes it was appropriate to say nothing at all.

A variety of Y/N’s family members told her things like:

Well at least you can try for another one.

You’re young, you’ll have plenty of kids.

What’s to stop you from trying again?

Well at least it wasn’t a planned pregnancy.

Even strangers, when informed of the situation, had said things along the lines of you’ll have another baby.

That was the worst thing to say to anyone who had been in this same scenario. There was no way of knowing if any of that was true.

No one would say that to people who had lost a baby after it was born, so why say it to anyone who had lost an unborn baby?

The insensitive words were like a hammer to glass to Y/N’s mental health. Spencer could see her shrinking more into herself as the days passed.

She never said it, but he knew she blamed herself.

He also knew she had to talk about it, to heal.

“Y/N. We really need to talk about it,” Spencer told her, one day.

He couldn’t bring himself to actually say the word to her. He was almost afraid of what it would do to her.

“I told you Spencer, I don’t want to.”

“I understand that. But you need to talk about it. You need to get it out of your head.”

She shrugged, not seeming to care. He sighed, frustrated. He couldn’t help if she resisted, but he was willing to push a bit too.

“What if we went to a sort of group therapy? You don’t have to talk, just listen to other people’s stories.”

“No.”

“Please,” he almost begged.

He hated seeing her like this. All he wanted to do was to help her.

It was also a distraction from the turmoil that seemed to roll in him like a rebellious ocean wave, getting stronger by the day. But he had to remain strong, he needed to be her support.

Maybe it was because this wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to talk to someone, but she actually agreed.

With a quick online search, he found a support group that met every Saturday at 10 a.m. They were going to join the next one.

“I was eight weeks,” a woman with auburn hair, named Lily said.

“I found out I was pregnant when I was only a month along, so pretty early on,” she laughed half heartedly.

Spencer sat next to Y/N, holding her hand.

It had been surprisingly easy to get her here this morning. Maybe because all the fight had left her, maybe she was ready to heal. Whatever it was, he was glad they were here.

The support group was rather casual. Just a dozen or so metal folding chairs placed in a circle. Anyone was welcome to share their story. You could just sit and listen. So far, all they’d done was listen. This was the second story they’d heard.

“I started cramping about ten hours before everything started. I didn’t think of much of it since I knew some cramping is normal in pregnancy. I had to be up early for work, so I went to bed early, hoping a good night’s sleep would help.”

Spencer could feel the tight squeeze of Y/N’s grip. He knew this was hard for her. It was for him, too.

“I woke up two hours before I had to be at work. I was bleeding a lot,” Lily’s voice cracked as she tried not to cry.

“I went to use the bathroom before going back to sleep and that’s when I noticed a gray clump.”

A few of the others reached over squeezing Lily’s arms or rubbing her back, giving her encouragement to continue.

“I was shaking and crying when I went to wake my husband. We went to the ER and they later confirmed that I had miscarried.”

Lily dabbed at her eyes with the tissue she’d been holding in her hands.

“That was last year. Sometimes it still hurts as much as it did in that moment. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. Me and my husband have been trying to conceive again, but haven’t had any luck. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s because I feel so guilty for wanting to be pregnant again even though I lost a child.”

A chair scraped back against the linoleum floor. It took a moment for Spencer to realize it was Y/N’s.

She stood, running out of the room before he could call after her.

The rest of the group eyed him sympathetically and he mumbled an apology and excused himself.

He found her outside by the car, sobbing her heart out.

“Y/N,” he tried to touch her arm.

She jerked away from his grip.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.

He stepped back, shocked at her outburst.

“How could you drag me to something like this?!”

“What do you mean? I thought it would help.”

“You really think it helps to hear women talk about something that was one of the worst days of my life?” she cried, “It didn’t help! It just made me want to forget about it more!”

“Y/N, please,” he said, trying once again to pull her towards him.

“No. I hate you! I hate you for making me come here!”

With that, she spun on her heel, jerking the car door open and getting in, slamming it behind her.

He stood, staring at the place she had just been standing. He wanted to jerk the car door open himself. He wanted to yell too.

He wanted to yell that he’d lost a baby too.

But he didn’t. He simply got in the car quietly and drove home.

•

Five Months

The dreams started in the summer.

Usually it would be some sort of dream where Spencer would wake up to Y/N and their child. It usually differed if it was a boy or a girl.

One dream he’d had recently, he’d taken his little boy to the playground. He watched the toddler play in the sandbox, go down the slide, proud of doing it by himself for the first time. Then he swung on one of the bright yellow swings. He even teeter-tottered in Spencer’s lap. Spencer was too afraid to let the little boy be on it by himself just yet.

It had felt so real, being there on that cool fall day watching his child play, oblivious to everything in the world but his gleeful joy of having the entire playground to himself.

The dreams bothered Spencer more than he cared to admit. Yet, he told no one about them. Not even Y/N.

Things were tense with them, more so than ever. After her outburst because of the support group, they never went back. They also spoke less.

They hadn’t even been intimate since the ordeal.

Not that he had expected to, but this was different than just the normal grieving. He could feel cracks starting to appear in their relationship. It felt like cracks were starting to appear in the concrete protective layer around his heart, that shielded off his emotions.

It was like living with a stranger, sharing a bed with a stranger.

Sometimes he wondered who was worse off, Y/N or himself.

•

Six Months

August was the hardest month yet.

If Y/N had still been pregnant, she would’ve been having the baby soon, if she hadn’t already.

He often wondered what the baby would have looked like. If he or she would’ve looked more like Y/N or more like him. Would it have been stubborn like Y/N? Smart like him? Outgoing like her? Shy like him? What would have been the baby’s favorite toy? Would it have crawled early? Maybe start walking before they were a year old?

The thoughts of a future that they weren’t able to have with this baby were the most toxic thing to his mentality. It was like the “what ifs”; once you started thinking about them, you couldn’t stop.

JJ was the only one to mention it at work that day.

They’d only gotten back the night before from a case in California.

Lately, time away from each other was the best thing for him and Y/N. Gone was the playful, loving relationship they’d had.

In its place was a cold, frigid, fragile relationship.

Spencer was at a loss of what to do anymore. All they did was bicker. That was something they’d never done much of before.

Sure, they’d had arguments, a few bad ones here and there, but these were much worse.

There was a mountain of unsaid words between them that had been steadily built over the last half year. He knew it was as much as his fault as it was hers, but at one point he actually thought it would soon resolve itself.

He never expected it to get to this point.

“How are you?” JJ asked, leaning against the edge of his desk.

By this point he was torn between being tired of being asked how he was and actually wanting to be asked how he was. Besides his best friends and teammates, no one had asked how he was. Not even Y/N.

He gave a little shrug, which of course she saw right through.

“Today was her due date, wasn’t it?”

He had to give JJ the benefit of the doubt. She had had a miscarriage herself. In fact, hers was in a horrible way as well. She lost her baby after being injured in an explosion. If anyone, JJ would understand that sort of pain.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“How are you, really?” she asked.

“Not great,” he answered truthfully.

“Is Y/N not any better?”

JJ had been the only one he’d confided in about his current relationship problems. Even though she didn’t know what to say, she listened.

“No. Things are awful.”

He’d been resorting to sleeping in an interview room every now and then. JJ caught him once and only then did she realize just how badly things had gotten.

“She still doesn’t want to talk about it?” she frowned.

Spencer shook his head.

“Maybe she’s only following your lead, Spence,” she pointed out gently.

His brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t grieved properly yourself, have you?”

He pressed his lips together, refusing to answer. But JJ had known him for over 15 years. She didn’t have to hear the answer to know what it was.

“I know you hold your emotions close to you, so tightly in fact that you don’t show them at all. You busy yourself with helping others, burying yourself in work, doing anything but processing your emotions. You know as well as I do that that isn’t healthy.”

He remained quiet, staring at his desk. He really didn’t feel like being lectured right now.

“She’s just doing the exact same thing in her own way. Instead of not showing her emotions, she refuses to talk about it, which she thinks would help her heal and move on. Just like facing your grief would help you heal.”

He still wasn’t looking at her, but he listened.

“Spencer. Look at me.”

Her tone was firm. The tone of a concerned friend.

He looked up at her. He was almost positive the pain shone in his eyes.

“A miscarriage is a strange thing. You’re grieving the loss of a person who you never even met. You’re grieving for the person that baby never got to become, for the moments and memories you’d never get. It’s a hard thing to process and it’s hard on both the mother and the father. You may not have gone through the physical aspects that Y/N did, but you were still there. It was your baby that you lost too.”

This much he knew. It was the thought that was constantly in the back of his head, desperately trying to trigger all the emotions he’d been repressing.

“You both need to heal, Spence,” she said softly, “Because it’s much harder to fix a broken relationship when both people are just as broken.”

With that, she left him with his thoughts.

If he thought the day would get any better, it didn’t.

Y/N wasn’t home when he came home that night. It was after 10 p.m. when she finally stumbled in, drunk.

“Where were you?”

Spencer had been worried. If it weren’t for the fact that all her clothes and belongings were still in the house, he would’ve thought that she’d left him. Even after that irrational thought, he was worried for her well being.

“Like you care,” she mumbled, stumbling as she kicked her heels off.

“If you checked your phone, you would see I called and text you dozens of times asking where you were!” he said, exasperated.

“I went out for a drink,” was all the explanation she gave.

“Clearly you had more than one,” he mumbled.

“I’m an adult, I can,” she huffed, “Besides it’s not like I’m pregnant or anything.”

He couldn’t help it. He winced at her remark. It cut deeper than he cared to admit.

“You’re drunk.”

“Wow, aren’t you a smart one?”

The sarcasm dropped from her tongue like honey.

“Go get changed. I’m gonna make you some coffee so you can sober up.”

He rubbed his forehead, already tired of this argument. It wasn’t even a bad one at that. It just showed how drained he’d become lately, mentally and emotionally.

“I don’t need your help,” she mumbled, heading down the hallway to the bedroom, “I’m going to bed.”

She may not have needed his help, but he was there with her all night as she vomited in the toilet almost every hour. He held her hair back and rubbed her back.

Her drunken tears, he knew, were a true reflection of her sober emotional state.

When it seemed like she would be able to keep something down, he fetched her a bottle of water and two ibuprofen to fend off the hangover she was sure to have in the morning.

The day had finally ended, finally becoming a day in the past.

As he finally laid down to sleep that night, he felt like another piece of him had crumbled away. He wasn’t sure how much more of himself there was to break.

He slept on the couch that night. It was the first of many nights there.

•

Seven Months

Spencer found himself paying more and more attention to children around him.

He couldn’t deny it anymore. He so desperately wanted to be a father.

He wanted to hear the sweet baby gurgles and baby talk. He wanted to hear them say dada for the first time. He wanted to see them begin to crawl, learn to walk, turn from baby to toddler, from toddler to child.

He wanted to hear the patter of feet and the peals of happy laughter as they played. He wanted to be greeted by his kids running for him when he walked in the door from work. He wanted to read them bedtime stories and take them for ice cream.

He wanted to play with them and cuddle them and hear them say I love you daddy.

Most of all, he wanted that with Y/N.

As hard as things had become, he still couldn’t picture himself loving anyone like he loved her.

Cases with children were getting tougher for him to shut out after they had solved it. It was hard to see parents with their children.

He was angry at the world. He wanted to know why he hadn’t been good enough to be a father already.

What if it was because he wasn’t home enough? Or because his job was too dangerous?

The baby would’ve been roughly a month old now. It would’ve lost some of its birth weight to gain it back again, its features would be steadily changing every day, looking a little bit different than it had the day before.

It would probably start smiling a little bit by now, even be aware of the sights and sounds around it.

If only things had been different.

•

Eight Months

Life had slowly begun to fall apart around him.

If Spencer thought he’d felt numb before, then this was what that had been, but ten times worse.

He went through the motions of life on autopilot.

Work.

Home.

Sleep.

Repeat.

He shut out his friends, not bothering to return calls. Lying about how he was, how things were, just to appease them.

After an almost fatal mistake on his part on a current case, Emily told him to take some time off.

It wasn’t a suggestion either.

It had been months since things were amicable with Y/N. Sometimes it felt like the way their relationship previously was had been in another lifetime.

He couldn’t remember the last time they’d said I love you to each other.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed her or held her.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt normal.

Alone at home for an unknown amount of time, Spencer was forced to acknowledge something.

He was broken.

•

Nine Months

Things seemed to have made a bit of improvement. The time away from work surprisingly seemed to help a bit.

Y/N seemed to be in a better headspace than she had been. Maybe not completely great, but they were speaking again.

It was tentative at first. It was something as simple as asking if he needed anything at the grocery store.

“I don’t think so,” he answered honestly.

“Well I was thinking of making chicken cacciatore for dinner tonight,” she said softly.

That caught his attention. It was one of his favorite dishes of hers.

Whether it was a peace offering or an olive branch of sorts, he decided he wasn’t going to press his luck and accept it.

“That sounds good.”

He offered a small smile, one which she returned.

That night, they ate dinner in the same room together, actually at the kitchen table. They weren’t hiding away in different rooms, passing one another like ghosts, but were actually enjoying each other’s company again.

No serious stuff was discussed.

They talked about how his work was going and how her part time job as a secretary was going—she’d gotten a part time job shortly before the incident, not because of money, but something to do. He hadn’t been the only one diving into work a lot more in the past months. Most of the time when she hadn’t been home, she had been at work, volunteering to take on extra hours.

It was kind of sad when Spencer thought about it. How they both volunteered to do extra work just so they could avoid each other and the elephant in the room.

They talked about the new season of a show they’d begun watching ages ago, how they needed to watch it. Whether they actually would or not was yet to be seen.

At the end of the day, it was a step in the right direction for them. Maybe things would get better after all.

•

Ten Months

Spencer should’ve known better than anyone as a profiler that when you ignore trauma, you ignore pain, it will only manifest itself. Sometimes the smallest thing can trigger it and when, not if, it’s triggered, it’s like a dam breaking.

That was what happened approximately ten months post incident.

He was a pro at focusing his attention on anything other than things that desperately needed to be dealt with.

That was how he found himself searching for the wrapping paper, offering to wrap some presents for her family.

It was now December, the year almost ready to end. In a way, he was relieved to leave this year in the soon to be past.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it had been the worst year of his life.

Rustling through the junk of clothes and other things in the bedroom closet, he had no luck finding any wrapping paper.

What he did find was enough to make his breath catch in his throat.

He stared at it for a few beats before deciding to pick it up and look at it. With unsteady hands, he reached for the crinkled and slightly dusty shopping bag.

Reaching in, he pulled out the baby shoes, resting them both in the palm of his hand.

They still looked as brand new as the day he bought them. Pristine, black and tiny as ever.

That was when the dam broke as did the wall around his heart.

In the ten months following, he hadn’t shed a single tear, first believing he had no right to. Then later on ignoring his pain before his anger set in to turn into complete numbness.

But now, the tears came.

He sank down on the bed, clutching the shoes in his hands, holding them tight against his chest. Sobs wracked his body, the pain unraveling in him layer by layer.

He had never felt such deep pain. He now understood why people said the loss of a child was one of the hardest things, if not hardest thing they ever dealt with.

He cried for the little boy or girl he wished every day that he’d been able to meet.

He’d cried for the baby that would never wear the shoes that he bought and held now.

He cried for the unfairness of the situation.

He cried for the shambles of his relationship, fearful that he might not be able to fix it.

He cried because he’d held on to his pain for far too long.

He cried because he was afraid he’d never feel whole again.

•

Eleven Months

His breakdown before Christmas hadn’t fixed everything, but it had made him feel a bit better.

He no longer held onto the initial searing pain that should’ve been released long ago and it was like a weight off his shoulders.

He still hurt, he still grieved, he still needed to talk about it, but at least he was headed on the right path toward healing.

Spencer had decided what he had to do before Christmas, but decided to wait until after the holidays to act on it.

Christmas had been low key, just the two of them staying at home and exchanging gifts.

He got her some perfume, a novel she’d been wanting to read and a gift card to her favorite store.

She’d given him a Doctor Who figurine he’d been searching for forever, a beautiful edition of War and Peace he’d lusted over ages ago and a new watch.

It was amazing how even though they’d spent most of the year so far apart, they still knew each other well, as if nothing had happened.

It was still a bittersweet day though. He could imagine how different life would have looked if they’d had their little four month old child here with them to celebrate.

He saw the pain in her face, but said nothing.

He knew how she felt.

It was New Years Eve when Y/N found Spencer sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee before the sun was even up.

“We need to talk,” Spencer said.

“Okay,” she sounded uncertain.

He motioned for her to sit down and she obeyed.

“We need to stop doing this,” he said.

“Doing what?”

“This,” he motioned between the two of them, “Ignoring everything. Acting like it didn’t happen. We need to talk about the miscarriage.”

He didn’t miss her flinch.

“I can’t. You know that,” she said.

“You need to,” he stressed, “I need to, Y/N.”

“No,” she shook her head vehemently, “I can’t and I won’t.”

“Dammit, Y/N!”

His palm slapped the table hard enough to rattle his coffee cup and make her jump.

It wasn’t often that he lost his temper, usually when he did, it was for a good reason. But when he was angry, he was angry.

“You’re not the only one who lost a baby!” he hollered, “Do you honestly think this hasn’t been hard for me too?! This last year has been shit for me as well! I almost lost my job because I made such an obvious mistake that I could’ve died as a result of my mind being in such a bad place! You’ve hardly spoken to me other than to fight with me for a majority of this year! How do you think that makes me feel?! I tried my best to help but you didn’t want it. I tried everything I could to fix you, but it just made things worse! I’ve been through hell too, Y/N, I hurt too! I wish every single day that we didn’t lose our baby. So I’m fucking sorry if I finally am tired of hurting and want to get better by simply talking about it!”

He was breathing hard by the time he’d finished his rant, his chest rising and falling quickly with his rapid breaths.

Y/N was frozen and staring at him. He wasn’t sure if she was upset, mad, stunned or what.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper,” he apologized, in a more normal tone, “But I really think we need to talk about it. This has changed us, Y/N. Surely, you can see that.”

She was still silent.

“Y/N?” he prompted.

“I...I didn’t realize. I mean I knew you were upset but I didn’t even know it was so bad, I…” she trailed off, looking like a lost puppy, before looking back at him, “I want to fix this. I do. But I don’t think I can talk about it.”

He sighed, all the fight completely drained from him. He was so, so tired.

“Then I think I have to leave,” he stated matter of factly.

“Leave?!” she startled, “What do you mean? Not for good, right? Spencer, please, don’t.”

“I don’t know if it’s for good,” he said warily, “All I know is I just have to leave for a while.”

It was the hardest thing he had to do, but he knew he needed to. It was for the best in the long run. He needed time to mend and so did she.

He stood from the table, setting his empty mug in the sink.

“I’m going to be staying with Luke and Penelope for a while if you need me,” Spencer said.

He walked toward the door where his already packed bag sat. He noticed her eyes fall on it, taking in just how serious he was about this.

He took a deep breath and opened the door, leaving a tearful Y/N still at their kitchen table.

It was time to heal.

After all, you can’t fix a broken relationship when you’re as broken as it.

•

Eleven Months

“Hi Spencer, it’s me. Y/N…”

There was a pause in the voicemail message.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know voicemail isn’t exactly the place to be apologizing, but I had to say it first before I say everything else and I won’t stop apologizing anyway. But, um, I just wanted to call you and tell you that I wanted to talk to you. Well more like I need to talk to you. If you have time that is. I miss you.”

There was another, shorter pause.

“I love you.”

Spencer’s lips curled just the slightest, hearing the three words he hadn’t heard in so long.

“Bye.”

The voicemail ended, but he held the phone to his ear for a little longer before he pulled it away and pocketed it.

It had been three weeks since he’d left.

He tried not to be disheartened when several days had gone by without any contact from her, then a week, then two.

Penelope had assured him that she needed time to fix herself too, just like he had been working on.

He still had a long way to go, but he was making improvements.

He had profusely apologized to his friends for shutting them out for so long. He dove into his work with new determination, not just to distract him, but because it’s what he enjoyed doing.

He even talked briefly to Luke and Penelope about the whole ordeal, even including the part of his breakdown before Christmas and the shoes.

Suddenly, the world started to look less bleak.

Then today he was surprised to see a missed call and voicemail from Y/N. He had missed her too, so much.

He missed how they used to be, too.

He tried hard not to, but he found himself hoping against hope that maybe, possibly, things could eventually be okay.

Spencer paused before opening the door of their house. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. He had no idea what to expect.

He walked in, almost anticipating Y/N to be sitting there, waiting for him. It was odd how much of a stranger he felt in his own home. In fact, he had to stop himself from knocking just a moment ago.

Y/N was nowhere in sight. He walked into the living room, not sure if he should go looking for her, or what. He’d never felt at such a loss.

“Spence, hi.”

He turned at her voice, noticing her just approaching the doorway to the living room from the hallway.

She looked good. The best she’d looked in months. She was dressed in fresh clothes, her hair down and brushed, a small smile on her lips.

“Hey.”

His heart had fluttered at the sight of her. He loved her so much; that he couldn’t deny.

“You, uh, wanted to talk?” he asked, nervously.

She nodded, indicating for him to sit on the couch.

It was only then that he saw the tiny converse sitting on the coffee table. He couldn’t explain his reaction to seeing them, other than a sense of grief.

“Where did you find those?” he asked.

“Under the bed. I stumbled upon them when I was changing the sheets.”

He faintly remembered the last time he’d seen them, stashing them under the bed after his sobs had subsided. He wasn’t necessarily hiding them, he felt more like keeping them close by. He had forgotten about that.

Spencer didn’t say anything, he just stared at the shoes before looking up at Y/N, tears glistening in his eyes.

“That was your surprise for me and the baby, wasn’t it?” she asked softly.

“You remember that?”

He didn’t know if the choke of emotion he felt in his chest came from the fact she remembered that or that she’d actually mentioned the baby.

“I couldn’t forget it.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Spencer? I’m ready to talk about it.”

He looked up from his lap where his gaze had fallen moments earlier, trying to conceal his emotions.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“You were right. I needed to do this a long time ago, but I’m ready now. I just don’t know where to start.”

She smiled sadly, fidgeting with the couch pillow that she’d rested in her lap, as if it were her life vest to survive this conversation.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, reaching out tentatively to touch her hand, “I’ll be right here the entire time. Just start at the beginning.”

She looked up at him, her hand shifting into his, interlocking their fingers together before she began.

“I started cramping that day,” she said hesitantly, “Probably around the time you got up to get ready for work.”

“You never told me that,” he said.

“I know,” she nodded, “At first it was because I didn’t think it was serious, I mean some cramping is normal in a healthy pregnancy. I thought that’s what it was. Then after everything happened...well you know, everything got so complicated.”

Spencer nodded, staying quiet. He squeezed her hand gently to let her know that he was listening.

“Anyway, I laid down after you left. I didn’t have work that day, so I thought maybe resting would help it. When I woke, they’d eased off enough to be just a mild nuisance. I mean, I’ve had period cramps that were worse.”

His heart broke listening to her recount what was the worst day of her life. He knew it had to be so tough for her to finally do this and he was so proud that she was finally getting it all out.

“The day passed like that. The cramps got worse by bedtime, so I thought I’d just use the heating pad for a little bit before going to sleep. I had started spotting then. Again, I wasn’t alarmed. That’s another symptom of early pregnancy, sometimes you spot a little. I went to sleep.”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself to talk about the next part.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m here,” Spencer whispered, his thumb running along her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“I can’t remember what woke me up exactly,” Y/N continued, her voice beginning to wobble, “I’m not sure if it was the cramps or the sense of dread because somehow, I felt both. I noticed my legs and the bed sheets felt a bit wet and I turned on the light. I caught a glance at the clock around that time. It was 1:27 a.m. That’s when I saw the blood.”

Tears formed in his eyes. Tears already were falling from her eyes.

“I was so scared, Spencer,” she said in a scratchy whisper, “I think deep down I knew it was happening, but I didn’t want to admit it. It was only when the doctor at the hospital confirmed it that it finally sank in.”

His tears were falling now as well. He remembered that fateful trip to the hospital all too well. His world felt like it had turned upside down.

It was then he realized that his unhealthy grieving process had begun, right there in that hospital room.

“Then I had to have the D&C. I know I was anesthetized, but still just knowing that I had to have this foreign object being shoved up me to scrape out any remnants of this baby that I failed to keep alive.”

She was bawling now. Her shoulders shook as her body racked with her sobs. Spencer pulled her towards him out of habit, regardless that they hadn’t embraced like this for so long. It was just so normal of him to do it, that he didn’t even give it a second thought.

He held her close as she cried into his chest. Her hands clutched his shirt, her tears completely soaking it. He didn’t even care that it was one of his nicer work shirts, he just hugged her tighter, as if he couldn’t get close enough to her.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” he murmured, gently rocking her back and forth in his arms, kissing her head, “It was never your fault.”

She sat back, disconnecting their embrace and wiped at her eyes, sniffling.

“I know that now. But it’s my fault for pushing you away. I isolated you, didn’t consider your feelings, wasn’t there for you. I’m the one who ruined our relationship.”

Even though she’d attempted to wipe her eyes, it had been a useless gesture. More tears fell again as she blamed herself.

“I’m so sorry Spencer. I’m so sorry.”

“It was my fault too,” he said, putting his hands on her face, thumbs wiping away her tears.

“I didn’t know what to say to you. I didn’t try hard enough. I tried to fix you when I couldn’t even fix myself. I’m just as much to blame for our problems and I’m sorry,” Spencer said.

She leaned her face into one of his hands.

“I talked to you. Please talk to me. I wanna know how you’re feeling. I care about how you’re feeling too, even though my actions haven’t conveyed that lately.”

He smiled a bit, dropping his hands from her face and beginning to fidget. It’d been a long time since he’d felt this vulnerable in front of someone, especially Y/N.

“Spence?”

He looked up at her. He could see the understanding in her eyes. She understood the turmoil roiling in him. She was silently telling him that he could lay his heart out for her.

So that’s what he did.

“It felt like the entire world collapsed around me,” he mumbled.

“I was so excited to be a dad. Obviously,” he gave a humorless chuckle, “I had the idea of buying the matching shoes for the baby. I thought I’d surprise you.”

“I love them,” she smiled at him, “I love that you did that.”

“I thought for the first couple of months that I had no right to grieve. You were the one who actually experienced it, so I tried to be strong,” he sighed, resignedly.

“Spencer you-”

He shook his head, cutting her off.

“Please, just let me finish or I won’t be able to get this out.”

She nodded, understandingly.

“That’s when I started blocking it out. I tried helping you, I buried myself in work just trying to forget. To avoid what I was feeling. I started having dreams during the summer.”

He saw the quizzical look on her face, not sure if she should ask aloud what he meant in fear that if she interrupted, he wouldn’t finish.

“I had these dreams where usually it was me and you with our baby. Sometimes it was a boy, sometimes it was a girl. It was always different scenarios, but like average activities, just with a child. You making breakfast while I fed our daughter, me taking our son to the park. It differed from dream to dream how old the child was, but it was all the same kinds of dreams.”

“Around that time anger sat in. After the failed support group visit I was more and more tempted to yell at you that I lost a baby too.”

Involuntarily, his lower lip began to tremble. He felt horrible admitting to that.

“I wish you had. I deserved to be yelled at. I deserved you being angry at me,” she winced.

“No, you didn’t. I feel bad for even admitting that I constantly wanted to yell at you. You were hurting too, Y/N. But it wasn’t just you that I was mad at. I was mad at the world. I was mad at the people who were lucky enough to be parents. It got harder and harder to deal with cases that involved kids or talk to people during cases that had kids. Some people I saw shouldn’t have had kids, they weren’t fit to be parents. I found myself wondering why they were given the gift of new little lives, yet we weren’t.”

He took a deep breath, feeling winded after his sudden ramble.

“I pushed away people too. I pushed you away because I stopped trying to help. I figured I wasn’t going to help anyway. I pushed away JJ, Luke, Garcia, the entire team. All they wanted to do was to help me and I didn’t want to be helped.”

She gave a small half grin, the corner of her mouth quirky slightly, not really a happy smile, more of a melancholy one.

“I guess we had that in common.”

Spencer realized just how much grief they could’ve saved each other if they’d both had been willing to help themselves first. But the past was the past and he wanted things to be different from here on out.

“I found the shoes before Christmas. I had hidden them after stumbling upon them not long after the miscarriage. I didn’t want to see them, I didn’t want to think about them. It was too painful. But I found them again and it’s like the grief just finally broke free of the wall I had built around it, in hopes it would go away. I think I cried for more than thirty minutes, just clutching them. After that, things felt a bit easier. Obviously everything wasn’t perfect, but I needed to finally grieve. I hadn’t cried once in all those months up until that day.”

It was her turn to hug him tightly. Spencer held on to her like she was his lifeline, which in a way, she was.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that all alone. I will never be able to apologize enough,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“I don’t understand why it happened, but it happened for a reason,” she said in a gentle tone, “But I don’t want to be broken anymore. I don’t want us to be broken. I’ve done an awful job of showing it, but I love you more than words can describe, Spencer Reid. I don’t want to live life without you by my side.”

It was probably the hundredth time they’d both cried during this conversation, but Spencer supposed it was expected.

He pulled away, looking down at her. The sincerity rang true in her eyes.

He leaned down, his lips like a wisp of a feather as they brushed against hers. He kissed her again, more firmly this time, but still relatively gentle. It was hard to tell whose tears were whose as they seemed to run together.

When they parted, he gave a small laugh amazed at how much lighter he finally felt, at how long it’d been since they’d actually kissed, since they’d actually talked. Suddenly, for the first time in a long time, things finally felt like they would be okay.

They were both a sniffling mess with tear stained faces along with red rimmed eyes, but they were actually smiling.

“I wouldn’t want to experience life without you by my side either, Y/N,” Spencer finally said when he’d regained the composure to do so, “I love you so damn much.”

They talked for hours, well into the night. They had so much to talk about, so much to share with one another.

But the most comforting thought was the knowledge they both could finally begin to heal; as individuals and as one.

•

Twelve Months

It’s ironic how the one year anniversary of the miscarriage was probably the best day yet of their recovery.

The initial conversation Spencer and Y/N had wasn’t the last one. Many more followed. Hardly a day went by when they didn’t have a conversation about it or mention it in some sort of way.

The atmosphere was lighter, their moods brighter, their mental health and relationship in a much better place than it had been.

They often had extended conversations about what they thought their angel baby would’ve been like, who they would’ve looked like. This time it was with less heartache and more wonder.

Spencer had finally admitted something that had been weighing on his mind though he wasn’t sure if he should share it with her. He told her that even though it didn’t go the way they had expected it to, he was thankful and grateful for the time they had had with Peanut.

The miscarriage had tested them and their relationship in ways they couldn’t have ever expected. Somehow, they had made it out of that dark tunnel through to the other side. They’d gotten through it and it had made their relationship stronger.

Even though it had only been a short time they’d had with this baby, it was more than none at all. Y/N had agreed. They had grown as individuals and grown as a couple over the last twelve months.

Other conversations regarding their loss were talked about too. They still wanted kids, they still intended on having them, but they’d decided they weren’t going to actively try.

If it was meant to happen anytime soon, it would happen. If not, that was okay too.

It had been a mutual decision that they wanted to wait while they worked to better themselves and their relationship. They would be parents one day, just not today.

Spencer couldn’t help compare how different things were now than they were a year ago. It seemed finally, they were at peace.

Grief was a strange thing. Sometimes it brought people closer together, other times it pushed them apart. In some cases, it could do both.

Y/N had refused to put the converse away in a closet or a drawer until they were needed.

She once didn’t want to remember, but now she didn’t want to forget. Spencer couldn’t have agreed more.

Now, the baby shoes sat on the dresser in their bedroom on display. It was a reminder of what they lost, but of what was to come. It was a reminder of what they’d been through, but to also remind them not to dwell anymore.

There was no reason to hold on to the pain like they had done for so long. They would always remember, but they’d no longer let it consume them entirely.

There, the baby shoes now sat, in hopes to one day be filled with tiny baby feet.

TAG LIST: @dreatine @reid-187 @groovyreid @reidslibra @suvikamahes98blr @fuckthealarm @iamburdened @cindywayne @thomasfoockinshelby @tinyminy88 @theitcaramelchick @missprettyboy @hushlilbabydoll @sammy-jo1977 @theonlyone-meeeee @haileymorelikestupid @lemonypink @teamkiall @redbullchick @ifeelloved @one-sweet-gubler @nanocoool @delightfullyspeedyearthquake @unsteadyimagines @ughitsbaby @inkwiet @pennythetechgoddess @capt-engr-ssa @sixx-sic-sixx @spencersdolore @reidsstudies @disney-dreams-world @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore @andiebeaword @cupcake525 @be-the-bravest @gretaamyk @likelovers @hopebaker @prisonreid @httpnxtt @daviddoughboy @pastathighs @marvels-gurl

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maplecornia · 3 years ago

Text

fanfic writer's tag game

tagged by: @kookaine thanks for the tag dude! even though it was RIDICULOUSLY long ;-; this should be fun ig

1. What fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

n/a. the fandoms I started writing for I continued to write for lmao.

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

Let's see...BTS, NCT, Stray Kids, ATEEZ. I haven't released my NCT or Stray Kids fics yet, since I'm still working on them and I don't do teasers.

3. how long have you been writing?

since 7th grade. that was when I started writing my original story called Strong with my best friend. I mean I had a Wattpad and Tumblr account back in 2016...I just never did anything with it. It's only recently in the 2019-2021 that I've started writing fanfiction.

4. on which platforms do you post your stories?

Wattpad, ao3, Tumblr

5. what is your favorite genre to write?

probably fantasy, angst or general fiction. romance is sometimes too cheesy for me which is why i always have to add angst to the mix, lmao, but i think in fantasy and general fiction it's cool cuz you can add multiple elements and there's MAGIC. like how cool is that. also enemies to lovers is always GOLDEN in fantasy and general fiction.

6. are you a pantser or a planner?

didn't know what a pantser was until i looked it up <///3 but i'm definitely a planner. i would go crazy if i didn't plan out my fics or leave notes or anything like that. i'm overly organized that way.

7. one-shot or multiple chapter

both, really. for some ideas they only fit for oneshots, but for others they are perfect for multiple chapters. but if i'm being honest, probably multiple chapters. i write too much for oneshots ;-;

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

1000 to 4000 words, for me it'd probably be longer, but for majority i think that this is the perfect length to get your point across and also for people to have an easy and enjoyable time to read.

9. what is your longest published story?

Infinite Stars, it's no wonder though because it's a series lmao

10. what story did you enjoy working on the most?

I love Infinite Stars to death, and it's my baby in the making, but if I had to choose which one I enjoyed the most it would have to be Your Untold Truth. I'm kinda sad it hasn't gotten more upvotes, but it's fine because I love it enough.

11. favorite request you've written?

haven't recieved one yet :/

12. are there reoccuring themes in your stories?

yep. angst, love, strange encounters, mentions of and the possibility of fate, one person changing and/or affecting your life, growing and learning from your mistakes so you can grow stronger on your own...all so i can do my one main theme, you're never truly alone.

13. current number of wips?

probably 10 now </3 Infinite Stars really be taking up a lot of my time

14. three things you've noticed about your writing?

i'm depressed. either that or I just enjoy talking about sadness. also if anything goes back the cliche hand holding or butterflies in the stomach, i will literally combust. i enjoy writing pure relationships, and whenever i try to write heated moments...let's just say they may go a little too far past the realistic side ;-;. metaphors are also a big part of my writing...and omfg the amount of filler material i create just because i think useless information is important astounds me. i never thought someone could be OVERLY descriptive...and then i met me :)))

i just realized that was more than three things RIP

15. a quote you like from a published story?

i have a lot...so i'm sorry i'm going to do more than one </3

"'You told me to be happy, so I'm going to try my best to find out what that means.'" - Your Untold Truth

"'I wasn't made to know you.'" - Your Untold Truth

(not a quote but I'm super proud of this)

"Today is a sunny day. The leaves have not yet turned their shade of red, and the flowers are in full bloom. It's a beautiful day, and on the breeze, I can almost swear I hear her whisper, a ghost of a laugh that will continue to live on in my dreams. For she will always be dancing, even if it's not with me." -Your Untold Truth

16. a quote from an unpublished story?

these are from chapters that are unreleased, so those reading Infinite Stars, here's as much of a teaser as you're going to get lmao

"Why do we keep choosing each other when we know that all we'll get is more pain?" - Infinite Stars

"We teach you to love yourself, to love others, we give you that right, but we aren't allowed to do the same?" - Infinite Stars

"Do you know how hard it is to have multiple people telling you who you are when they don't know the first thing about you?" - Infinite Stars

"Someone once told me that change is inevitable. But that doesn't mean letting go means saying goodbye." -Infinite Stars

"Why were you deciding my life before I even had a chance to make my own choice?" -Infinite Stars

"You know what I'm tired of? People trying to tell me who I am, and what I should do without me ever getting a chance to decide for myself. That should be my decision, that should be my choice and mine alone!" - Infinite Stars

17. space for you to say something to your readers.

hello my young chicken nuggets. I know a lot of you are silent readers, and that my blog ain't that big, but I'm really happy that you guys read my fics! It means a lot to me that you enjoy my writing and I hope you'll enjoy more writing to come ^^

tagging: @hyuckworld, @kabira, @words-in-purple, @junepops + anyone else who wants to do this! even though this was long as heck it was pretty fun to do

#tag games #astra 💜#pasta astra 💜#hope she doesn't check my tags ;-;#fanfic writer questions

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thewritingstar · 5 years ago

Note

I would ask you 1-100 but that's a huge request and doubt you'll do it, UNLESS🤔🙃

UNLESS....

1. Name- Deanna or as everyone knows me, Star

2. Nationality- American

3. Age- 19

4. Birthday- April 5th

5. Zodiac sign (or your primal zodiac sign)- Aries

6. Gender- Female

7. Sexuality- Bi/Pan (im fine with either)

8. Your looks (add a picture or describe yourself)- Dark brown hair, greenish eyes and body of a 12 year old boy

9. What do you/did you study?- Animation

10. What’s your current job like?/What job would you like to have?- I work in an ice cream shop just as a job but i wanna be an animator or writer for shows

11. Your birth order- Youngest of 2

12. How many siblings do you have?- One

13. Do you have good relations with your family?- for the most part

14. How many friends do you have?- I would say I have about 8 close friends and then just a ton of other friends

15. Your relationship status- single but accepting applications

16. What do you look for in a SO?- usually a pulse and good hair

17. Do you have a crush?- kinda but also no

18. When did you have your first kiss?- haven't yet :(

19. Do you prefer serious and meaningful relationships or casual dating/one night stands?- prob meaningful

20. What are your deal breakers?- smoking and drugs and how they treat others

21. How was your day?- well i just woke up so i guess good.

22. Favourite food & drink- Raspberry iced tea/Vanilla Lattes and Chowmein or burgers

23. What position do you sleep in?- either on my side or stomach. Im usually curled up in a ball so prime cuddle position...just saying

24. What was your last dream about?- I think it was about cake..

25. Your fears- bugs and the overwhelming thought of me being a failure

26. Your dreams- being someone where others can be inspired by

27. Your goals- to live a life with no regrets (i know typical right?) but also have a successful career.

28. Any pets?- 2 doggos

29. What are your hobbies?- drawing, painting, writing, video games, reading

30. Any cool places in your area?- kinda but you gotta drive to them so not really

31. What was your last awkward situation?- me stuttering over my words at work

32. What is your last regret?- idk

33. Language/s you can speak- English and barely any French

34. Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc.)- hell yeah

35. Have any quirks?- i can make a guinea pig noise and can stand on my head for a while.

36. Your pet peeves- having my neck being touched and mouth breathing

37. Ideal vacation- Any disney park

38. Any scars?- only mentally

39. What does your last text message say? “Shes being a big girl and taking 5 classes.”

40. Last 5 things from your search history- im to lazy to check but prob youtube or fics

41. What’s your [device] background?- Phone background is a painting from a museum and my computer is a bunch of Nintendo items

42. What do you daydream about?- being a voice actor or a pirate

43. Describe your dream home- one that looks like a castle

44. What’s your religion/Your thought about religion- I was raised Catholic but i really dont practice it anymore. I think it its a beautiful thing and alot of good comes from it, however i dont like it when it is used to harm others or defend evil people

45. Your personality type- So i took a test based on the 16 different ones and I am an Advocate type which apparetnly is very rare and less than one percent of the pop are it. https://www.16personalities.com/ heres the link if you wanna take it!

46. The most dangerous thing you’ve done- I used to suck on batteries as a child

47. Are you happy with your current life?- for the most part

48. Some things you’ve tried in your life- Snorkeling in Hawaii (which i almost died), Crystal Cave tour and donuts which i hate

49. What does your wardrobe consist of?- hoodies and graphic tees

50. Favourite colour to wear?- black

51. How would you describe your style?- comfortable and sometimes i look good

52. Are you happy with your current looks?- ye

53. If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be?- I want blue hair one day

54. Any tattoos or piercings?- have my ears and now my nose pierced but i do want tattoos in the future

55. Do you get complimented often?- usually for my hair and i find it happens often

56. Favourite aesthetic?- Gothic and pastel

57. A popular trend that you dislike- crop tops

58. Songs you’re currently obsessed with?- “Good Night Moon” by Go Radio

59. Song you normally wouldn’t admit you like.- My Little Pony and Sofia the First songs slap

60. Favourite genre?- pop punk or pop

61. Favourite artist/band/genre? -Panic!, Taylor Swift

62. Hated popular songs/artists?- I wouldn’t say hate but im not really a fan of Billie Ellish, maybe i need to sit down and really listen but its just not my jam. I think shes a cool person and i love watching her on tv and what she stands for. By i hate Drake and Chris Brown for sure.

63. Put your music on shuffle and list first 5- Head above Water, Happy when im sad, Love bug, Casual affair, I believe. So Avril Lavigne, Jonas Brothers and Panic!

64. Can you sing or play any instruments?- Im not the worst singer but im also not fantastic and i can’t play

65. Do you like karaoke?- sometimes

66. Own any albums?- like cds then yes

67. Do you listen to radio? What stations?- not anymore

68. Favourite movie/series?- Any disney or pixar

69. Favourite genre of movies/books/etc- YA like adventure books

70. Your fictional crush/es- oh here we go. Juvia and Gray (Fairytail), Catwoman, Danny Phantom, Captain Hook and Regina Mills and Henry (Ouat), Steve (stranger things), Riddler (gotham) and Molly Hooper (Sherlock) and prob more.

71. Which fictional character is you?- prob a mixture of Momo and Deku from My Hero and Honey from Ouran

72. Are you a shipper? List your otps, if so. Am I a shipper? ha. aight Gruvia, Nalu, Gajevy, Jerza, Kiribaku, Kacchacko, Todomomo, tododeku, LadyNoir and the love square, Captain Swan, Outlaw Queen, The powerpuff girls and the rowdyruff boys (respected partners) and like five thousand others

73. Favourite greek god?- Hades and Persephone

74. A legend from where you live that you like- literally nothing from where i live

75. Do you like art? What’s your favourite work or artist?- love art and i cant just pick one

76. Can you share your other social media?- i mean you can follow me on twitter at StarsnShortcake but all thats there is my shitty tweets and interactions with my friends and Voice actors lol

77. Favourite youtubers?- Mikes Mic, Macdoesit, Twamiz, Larri, Dan Howell, Amazing Phil, Jenna Marbles, Shane Dawson, Steph Inc, Garret Watts, and like a ton more

78. Favourite platform?- Tumblr or twitter

79. How much time do you spend on the internet?- too much

80. What video games have you played? Which one’s your favourite?- I love anything Nintendo

81. Your favourite books (manga also counts)- Kingdom Keepers, Suicide Notes and the Selection Series to name a few

82. Do you play board/card games?- Yes

83. Have you ever been to a night marathon in cinema?- nope

84. Favourite holiday- thanksgiving for the food

85. Are you into dramas?- ye

86. Would you use death note, if you had one?- haha ye

87. What changes would you make in the world, no matter how impossible, if you had the power to?- no racism, sexism, homophobia and legal marriage everywhere. Also that no one goes hungry and everyone has a nice place to live.

88. Could you survive a zombie apocalypse?- probably

89. If you had to be turned into a paranormal being, what would it be?- a hot demon

90. What would you want to happen to you after your death?- I turn into a goddess

91. If you had to change your name, what would be your pick?- ooo Celeste is a cool name

92. Who would you switch your life with for a week?- hmmm Tara Strong

93. Pick an emoji to be your tattoo- either the stars or the black heart or the fireworks

94. Write 3 things about yourself - only one of them must be true- Ive never eaten a chicken nugget, I can do the splits and I have cat

95. Cold or hot?- hot

96. Be a hero or be a villain?- oooooo um im a sucker for villains

97. Sing everything you want to say or rhyme?- Rhyme

98. Shapeshifting or controlling time?- Shape shifting, i could be a plant

99. Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death?- bold of you to assume i would wanna live forever

100. ….. or …..?- :0

HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS ANON CAUSE IT TOOK FOREVER.

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davetheshady · 5 years ago

Note

may I politely request ⭐dealer's choice director's commentary⭐for pretty much any part of Love is All You Need to Destroy Your Enemies?

Did you mean: infodump about Chapter 5?

We start off in medias res during Pteranodon Attack-Gate from Episode 4: PTA Meeting. Since most of the fic runs parallel to WTNV’s storyline for the first ~two years, the way I narrowed down which events to feature was to read through the transcripts and take note of which ones had Carlos, which ones featured science/magic/time travel-related elements, which ones had weird discrepancies or unsolved details that could be explained by Carlos/science/magic/time travel/all of the above, and which ones I just liked a lot.

Incidentally, Cecil issues a correction that the winged reptiles in question were actually pterodactyls, not pteranodons, which was then promptly forgotten by the showrunners lol.

"—And then Kelly pulled her hamstring while they were doing the Fixing of a Nail position. I'm trying to convince her that she and Joe should do yoga together, I think it would really cut back on minor injuries and also they both look great in yoga pants. Anything new with you, Carlos?"

"Nothing that compares to... hamstring injuries," says Carlos, from his position on top of the Sciencemobile.

"All right," says Kate, adjusting an enormous pair of mirrored aviator shades. "Then describe the Barstow formation."

Since literal character doubling was such an important part of the plot, I had a lot of fun with thematic character doubling, too. Carlos and Kate (and the other grad students) are actually pretty close in age, and here we see her willing to put herself into danger to get the job done while casually chatting with her colleagues. Also, there’s a nice dose of karma for the books in Carlos having to deal with someone else oversharing details about their relationships, compounded by the fact that unlike his all of Kate’s are actually true. (In nicer doubling news: Kate is the one who gets her degree in science, has functional romantic relationships, AND continues to work in Night Vale, which are all eventually Carlos’ hashtag life goals.)

"Maybe it was future you," asks Julie, who does not sound appropriately concerned for the potentially diverted course of the Currents of Time. Or for the potentially diverted course of the already unlinear life of Carlos.

This is the first conversation where she’s ‘Julie’ in his mental narration. I enjoyed having her be hilariously unsympathetic to his concerns here, because her priorities are still very different, but it also sets up a baseline. She doesn’t bother worrying about hypotheticals from the weird shit, but actual hard data (like, Carlos not sleeping and having minor breakdowns in her lab) is what prompts her to share reactions besides SCIENCE! and snark.

His stomach roils at the thought of more time travel. "Some kind of illusion is more likely," he says: some person or creature temporarily assuming his form, probably for sinister purposes. He reluctantly adds those weird doubles from the sandstorm to his list of possible suspects, though his dissolved right in front of him in the middle of next March and there haven't been any sandstorms recently.

oh hey haha what’s that

One of my biggest pet peeves in fiction is when allegedly intelligent characters ignore obvious plot points so the writer can railroad the story in their chosen direction. On the other hand, it is genuinely difficult to avoid spoiling your plot twists if your main character is actively trying to figure them out. I leaned heavily on “the character has all the basic details… along with so much other information they can’t realistically narrow it down”, combined with some red herrings: an obvious one (illusion magic) and hopefully a more convincing one (time travel as the only relevant plot: it's DEFINITELY involved, but its presence is obscuring another facet of the plot altogether).

There's always a risk that astute readers will figure it out, but, like… so? That just means instead of shocking plot twist reveal, they get an “I KNEW IT!” reveal, which is equally satisfying in a different way. As long as the characters have convincing reasons for not figuring it out, it's hopefully still enjoyable to follow along with them as they wander around in the dark.

(And just for clarification: that was Doppel-Carlos crashing the town hall meeting when he and Dr. Raith were testing out time vortices.)

Andre hands him a copy of the Night Vale Daily Journal. “’Look your best to face the void. Smooth-chinned souls are most enjoyed’,” reads Carlos. “‘Burma-Shave.’”

"No, below the ads," says Andre.

1) ‘character reads wrong piece of information in paper’ is a classic goof (“There’s a sale at Penney’s!”) and I found it very amusing to repeatedly attribute it to Carlos, since he’s genuinely trying to locate the important information. Unfortunately for him, he lives in Night Vale and no longer has a filter for “useless nonsense”, because even the nonsense has proven relevant and/or kinda murdery before.

2) Burma-Shave! This was passed down to me as part of our Great American Roadtrip Family Lore (I come from a long line of roadtrippers) and it’s definitely the kind of kitschy 50s detail that fits so well in Night Vale.

"Oh!" says Cecil. "What were you studying?"

"Bioremediation for contaminated pit lakes via sulfur-reducing bacteria," says Carlos truthfully.

Why? Because I edited one of my friends’ papers on it, that’s why. (Birds kept landing on it and dying, which is also a very Night Vale detail.)

When he returns, he finds Cecil standing by the record player with his back against the wall, staring fixedly at Carlos’ vinyl copy of Ixnay on the Hombre.

One of the DF books (I think White Night) had a hilariously high number of characters showing up wearing band t-shirts, and Carlos’ was for The Offspring. (The original file name for this fic was Original Prankster, back when I thought it would be three chapters long.)

“It’s about a wizard stranded in a strange, uncharted desert territory,” [Cactus Judy] says serenely.

Cactus Jane! I decided to make her a recurring character because 1) she’s in a time travel episode (Episode 18: The Traveler), 2) both she and TMITJ had the detail where no one can remember their real name, which seemed significant, and 3) WTNV itself did not have very many recurring female characters at that point. She’s into Shakespeare because I personally knew a lot of relevant Shakespeare quotes, but also as a hint that’s she’s a lot older (and thus a lot more supernatural) than she seems: Shakespeare was a HUGE part of pop culture in the 19th century, particularly in the southwest. Theater companies used to make more money going on tour through states with precious metal mines than they did during their whole season in the big coastal cities, probably because jaded city folks never threw gold nuggets on stage to show their appreciation.

If life is a contest between good and evil, Cecil would be one of the people handing out stickers just for participating.

This is one of my favorite lines.

My plan is fool-proof! It's sheer elegance in its simplicity!

Look, if you enjoyed this fic, WTNV, and/or The Dresden Files, you should probably go watch The Middleman. Yes, I know it’s not streaming, do it anyway. Load up on antivenom and go rent it from your local library.

“Could you [create a time vortex]?""Oh, for sure," says Carlos. "All I'd need would be a couple years to do nothing but work on a highly illegal spell and figure out a way to steal an entire ley-line's worth of power and excise my sense of morality and self-preservation.”

And WHAT are the odds of THAT

It's not that Carlos doesn't like him. It just wouldn't be fair to lead him on when Carlos wouldn't actually—

Well, Carlos wouldn’t mind asking but he doesn’t normally go for—

Okay, Carlos could definitely make an exception for Cecil and—

And—

oh NO he accidentally used logic to make himself admit he has FEELINGS

One of the reasons I love this pairing is that you have Cecil, who is incredibly emotionally open (all the time, on public radio) as a distinct contrast to Carlos, who is so used to putting up a very specific facade that he even does it to himself and then struggles when he doesn't have it to rely on. It creates conflict, but it also means they have very different perspective they can share with each other.

"Did the earth move for you, too?" says Cecil.

"Bwuh?" replies Carlos.

"At the monitoring station," says Cecil, because right, they're talking about science and not about how Carlos may or may not have accidentally developed a tiny, tiny crush on Cecil, who is standing right in front of him and looking extremely interested in what he's saying and will commit his words to memory and lovingly repeat them for all the world, or at least all of Night Vale and anyone else who received the same odd death curse as Carlos, to hear.

"Oh. Hmm – unh," replies Carlos, then shakes his head. Not talking, that's the way to go. That way he won't accidentally say something he doesn't mean, or worse, something he does mean but probably shouldn't say. Cecil can ask him science questions and he can shake his head yes or no, and maybe refer him wordlessly to supplementary materials, and it will all be very professional and—

"Where did you get your shirt?" asks Cecil. "It fits you so well."

"I'll look at my notes and computer models and see if I can figure out what's going on," Carlos blurts out, and practically runs from the room.

One of the reasons I started writing this fic (SEPTEMBER 2013, BABY god I feel old) was because we all knew Carlos was immensely important to Cecil, but had relatively little information about him, and ALL of it was filtered through our unreliable narrator. So… I just kind of ran with that.

But on top of the obvious unreliability of “didn't notice Carlos was a wizard from a different series”, I wanted to do it on the smaller scale, too, and put a different spin on the touchstones of their growing relationship that everyone was already familiar with. So this interaction is now a crisis for both of them, and for dramatically/hilariously different reasons.

“If you’re worried about going native, I’ve got bad news for you, buddy, because you do more chanting than anyone I’ve met.”

Another one of my favorite lines.

“I’ve had to hunt down people I know before, and trust me, it’s not a fun date night!”

Between Molly and fanon interpretations of Cecil, Carlos’ type is apparently 1) weird tattoos, 2) unusually-colored hair, and 3) can kill him

There's a brief hiss from the TV's speakers, and then Cecil says, in a small, forlorn voice, “I don't know if he listens to me, sometimes.”

Carlos puts his head down and laughs bitterly.

I LOVE IRONY

But even though I wanted to subvert the surface meaning, Cecil DOES still have a point. He got a good look at Carlos’ soul when they first met and still fell in love instantly, but Carlos has a difficult time hearing that because at this point he fundamentally does not believe he’s worthy of that kind of love. In order to truly believe Cecil, he also has to start learning to love and accept himself. (It’s very much a work in progress, but nobody’s perfect.) The title isn’t just meant to refer to romantic love – self-love, friendship, familial love, and unconditional love for the humanity of his trash fire town are equally important, because they all support each other.

hmu for more dvd commentary!

#thusjuniperus #love is all you need to destroy your enemies #Welcome to Night Vale #ask dave #the dresden files #fic #writing

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thequietoftheroom · 6 years ago

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Hi. Is this thing on? Lauren Graham said in her new book that we should write more so this is my attempt at that. Oh by the way, I started reading again. I write these for myself so why don’t I just use “we”, but that will probably be weird reading it back. I’ve read Feminasty: The Complicated Woman’s Guide To Surviving The Patriarchy Without Drinking Herself To Death, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice On Love And Life From Dear Sugar, and now I’m almost done with Talking As Fast As I Can: From Gilmore Girls To Gilmore Girls. I’ve gone through several lists to pick out the books I plan on reading in the next few months, at least if I can afford them, but I like to think the books I ultimately bought found me and not the other way around. I have been read cover to cover, my soul pierced, and my mind opened. Of course fiction books have a similar effect but I never thought I would be interested in what people had to say about this grand thing called life and I learned that I cared a whole lot, not because I wanted to model myself after them but because I care about people and reading their explanations on life is like suddenly remembering they’re my best friends and they’re just catching me up on little secrets that come packed with nuggets of wisdom.

I got myself into several situations I never planned on getting myself into even though the red flags were there and even though the people very openly said “Hey, this is exactly who I am”, but you know how your mind works when you have anxiety and depression. You start to convince yourself the puzzle pieces you find yourself assembling are actually part of the picture even though they don’t fit because deep down you’re trying to finish the puzzle of your life and no one is giving you quite the right pieces. In other words, and to quote my friend Allie, I drank a nice glass of “dumb bitch” juice. Which lead me to want to consider joining a dating site sooner than I planned. I know these things take time but it’s been 3 days and I’ve sent 40 likes (I think that’s how okcupid works idk) and practically got 0 back. Here’s why that sucks. On okcupid they focus strongly on your personality and beliefs. So someone not only saw my face and said “yeesh no thanks” they took the time to get to know the information about myself I put on there and were still like “yikes I don’t think so”. So all in all this was an experiment in derailing my self esteem and increasing my depression. What crazy color will I dye my hair to suddenly avoid dealing with my problems? Or maybe I’ll give myself another buzzcut. Stay tuned!

On a serious note, a lot of the stories I’m reading made me SO relieved that at 27 I’m still very much single and have only had 1 relationship which wasn’t that great (it was both of our faults). There were so many stories and anecdotes about young love being messy and about true commitment coming in your 40′s. Honestly, idk if I can wait that long. If NASA and the CIA and the FBI were like “you have been randomly selected to test mating with androids” I’d be like “yes please but can I choose their face”. I mean realistically I’m in the worst position to be in a relationship. For one, I don’t have much money saved because I’m sadly addicted to ordering things online, most of which are either useful to me or to my job (and no I don’t get reimbursed but I think the prospect of waiting for something in the mail to kill time is momentarily greater than the prospect of having more money later). I still live at home. Obviously, that’s a hella yikes and tbf I’m reading to get the fuck out of here but {see A: i have no money} and I have no one to move in with. I keep doing extensive research but I learned that in 2018 everywhere is problematic. So as much as my love for NYC is slowly fading I also realize this is it for me! I’m a city gal who needs to be surrounded by diversity. I can’t do suburbs and I can’t do living near more than 50% white people. I’ll die. I know that’s discriminatory but we are in the dawn of BBQ Beckys so can you blame me when the majority of white people keep voting against my existence. So I’m stuck. Every once in a while I look up “most LGBT friendly places to live” or “least racist places to live” and hope there’s a magical place with both but there isn’t (especially since, hello, twinks are hella racist). But I’ve literally cuddled my body pillow to death: it broke apart and I need a new one. And I learned I can’t fall asleep unless I’m cuddling it because I’m that lonely.

Everything in life is so complicated. I hate not being out at work but at the same time everyone there is ignorant so I wouldn’t be any more comfortable having them walking on eggshells around me. I love the individuals though and sometimes I feel very motherly or big brotherly towards them and they make me REALLY love work. But I want to be me. And I want to get rid of my legal name. Every time someone calls me John I die inside. Sometimes I don’t even respond because I have to be like “oh shit that’s me”. Can I change my name now? Probably, just have to have the money and redo all my paperwork at work? Will i? No because then either a) the individuals will have to learn my new name and their lives are confusing as fuck as it is or b) i keep my current legal name as a nickname but then it will get confusing for paperwork. I don’t like inconveniencing people that much even for something super important to me. I’ll just die inside until I save enough money, do my last few undergrad psyche classes, and then get into grad school. So like in 5 years, knowing me.

I’ve developed some little crushes here and there but most of the time it’s people that live out of reach or are straight or bottoms or any combination of them or I can just tell they will never like me in that way. So honestly, why bother. I miss the days when I didn’t care about this and the only thing plaguing my mind was what show I should marathon while building in minecraft.

Speaking of games, I play a lot with my friend Sal. He’s like my best friend which is weird because he was my boss once on a minecraft server but now I can’t ever think of him that way? He’s more like an older brother now, even though he’s younger than me. We talk a lot and also enjoy a lot of silence, and introduce each other to different games and shows. But mostly games. We’re both obsessed with 7 Days To Die and I check constantly for news about the update (no set dates for Alpha 17 AHHHH). To fill that void we started playing Fortnite, which I know a lot of people make fun of but it’s actually fun. Here’s a fun fact about me: I can’t take serious games serious so if there’s no building element, or fun element, or explosives I can blow things up with, I won’t do it. I have 0 competitive bones in this body. I like to have fun. That’s why Fortnite is perfect because it is a competitive FPS type game but it’s also a parody of that genre and it’s so whimsical. Save The Day is a lot like 7 Days To Die so that’s been fun. Listen, when you play a game with someone and you beat it, especially a survival game, it’s such a relief and you learn so much and it’s like you went on a literal adventure with that person. Did Sal and I actually get stranded on an island full of mutants and cannibals? No but that’s what it actually felt like after finishing The Forest because it was that real for us. My love for Pocket Camp is fading because it’s the same stuff, new textures. I mean the prospect of having a cute camp is fun sometimes (fun enough for me to spend way too much money on it. HELP!) but now it’s like “oh they just stand there and I don’t really do anything”. ALTHOUGH they are saying that now they are adding a LOT more gameplay to the point that you need at least 1gb of space of the game so I’m excited. I’m still obsessed with minecraft so there’s nothing new there.

Here’s something weird. I spent much of my time, when I identified as gay, being annoyed at gay stereotypes and mostly twinks being like “if you don’t do x,y,z you might as well be straight”, so much so that now that I came out as queer those things still bother me and I have to be like “it’s okay that’s not you anymore you literally figured this out which is why you’re this person”. That’s how I should introduce myself tbh “Hi I’m the Q in LGBTQ”. I don’t care about fitting in but because of my lack of in person friends sometimes I worry that maybe I should care, just a little. I’m so tempted to try Tinder just for that but then I think of all the people who have Tinder that live in this building and I’m like God that is a huge mistake. I need a huge life change. I need someone to come in and shake up my life but no one has volunteered. I’m kind of regretting thinking of all those stupid romantic things like “Oh I want my future boyfriend to teach my how to ride a bike :)” “I want my future boyfriend to take me traveling” “I want my future boyfriend to serenade me”. I’ll just become a full on Capricorn and teach myself everything, travel the world alone, and serenade my goddamn self.

Speaking of which again, can my depression like.. not? I was so into learning and practicing chords daily and I just stopped? Like my motivation was like “It’s been a nice 1 week. back to not caring about anything again” I mean I started to try to learn Burn and Satisfied from Hamilton (well, “learn”) so I at least have interest and I still listen to classical music and jazz to light that fire under my ass but still. I’m just going to do what I always do and restart from lesson 1 and hope I make it to 3 although my extensive research of chords has already put me at an advantage for lesson 3, which is chords. Of course I would go and try to learn something in an unstructured manner because I have a problem with routine and authority even when that authority is me.

I should write me. Which reminds me I was going to write about this one dream I had on my regular blog. See ya!

#personal #2018

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angelicwritingoflesilva · 6 years ago

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Sunday, “Everest’s Loneliest Creature”

!! After more than five hours of writing, two hours of editing, here it is, in all its glory: Everest’s Loneliest Creature! Okay, time for some life lessons:

What I’ve Learned: Journals are so hard to write. ;u; People who write stories with just letters, holy frick, props to you. Seriously, making this entertaining without making it seem like a regular piece was... difficult (not gonna say very because that makes for weaker writing see I definitely know what I’m doing).

Props to more people: historical fiction authors. It was hard enough researching something current. How you all can do it for something that has been gone for like at least 50 years, no clue.

EVEREST TAKES FOREVER TO GET GOING. LIKE, HECK, FORTY DAYS TO REACH CAMP IV? REALLY? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WRITE A SHORT STORY AAAAA! no i’m not bitter

Characters are really fun to develop behind scenes! I thought that I would just throw the friends who came with Mallory to the side, but they were really fun to write about. I think that I gave them, certainly simple, but interesting personalities. I actually think that the characters are believable in this story, which is something that I think I struggle with a lot.

Final Word Count: 8,986

Final Time Spent (writing/editing): 8 hr 14 minutes

Trigger warning: being stranded somewhere, storms, big monsters who’ll love you to death, and sadness :(

Everest’s Loneliest Creature

February 28, 2018

Hello there, journal! I’m going on the climb of my life with my friends, Jasmine and Casey. We’re going back to my family’s birthplace, to a small country housing the most giant of mountains! A small fry taking reign of the largest shark! A teeny mouse housing a fierce African elephant!

That’s right, we’re going to Nepal to climb the one and only Mount Everest! Just writing that feels unreal, wow!

Casey suggested the idea to me last year, around April or something. We were studying deer behavior in the field when he suddenly said that he wanted to climb Everest one day. I rolled my eyes at him and said that we would never have the money. I make plenty to keep myself afloat, but to afford an entire trip to Everest?

Besides, I told him, I’m not great at keeping jobs. To do something like climb Everest when I’m not even sure if the research program is going to want me tomorrow would be dumb. He and I laughed about the time that I abandoned my (infinitely and endlessly boring) task of documenting the edible plants in Yellowstone to follow a goose and her goslings, and my subsequent firing. But, it’s fine. I didn’t really like the people who employed me at that time anyway.

After we stopped laughing, he said to think about it. I rolled my eyes, but agreed. Of course, I wasn’t planning on doing anything with the idea, but Casey is really persistent. He kept bothering me about it, and finally, I threw him a scrap and said I’d talk to my parents about it. Now, mind you (or me, I guess?), I don’t need their permission to do it. I just thought that if I were to go climbing on Everest, they would want to know. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt if they could give me a little money, right?

So, I came to their house, served them a gourmet dinner of oven-baked dino nuggets, and then told them what I was thinking about Everest. I told them that it would be a good way to connect with great grandpa Hiransh’s roots.

Mom looked at dad, and the two shared a concerned glance. They told me how dangerous it was to climb Everest, and I’m sitting here like, come. On. I am a field biologist. I work with giant snakes and bears, already have spent lots of time climbing mountains, in very dangerous areas, and you don’t think that I know that Everest is dangerous?

Anyways I just nodded as they warned me, smiling and occasionally saying, yep, yep. Or, yeah, I’ve heard that. Nothing disrespectful, just enough to show them that I had done my research.

Eventually, mom said what I was thinking--expenses. She looked over to my father, her hands wringing in her lap. She said that a permit alone could cost me greatly, but I told her that I had already done research on how much it cost. But, I also said, I would love if you guys could spare a hundred or something so I don’t, like, freeze to death on the mountain because I couldn’t afford a coat. My dad laughed at that, but my mom just bit her lip. I promised to pay them back.

My mom and dad talked, and they finally came to an agreement to give me $500. My dad said, jokingly, that if I didn’t pay them back, that he would get to shave off what remained of my hair. (long story short: I decided to get a pixie cut and dyed the tips of my hair dark green, and I think it looks pretty bad. Casey says it looks good, though, so maybe I’ll keep it like this)

So, I left with an extra $500. It wasn’t much, compared to the monumental expenses of climbing Everest, but it was a start. I had to basically empty my spend account and dump it in my growth account. Who knows, I thought. Maybe by the time I climb Everest, I’ll have a whole extra dollar! (I actually ended up getting about ten dollars! Score!)

I started to train for the expedition. At first, I just worked normally at the gym, and then I started to use a mountain training mask. Basically, it just lowers how much oxygen your body gets, and it gets you ready to breathe the thinner mountain air. I also had to work really hard at my job to work up enough extra money so I could go to Nepal and not be bankrupt by the time I got back. I volunteered for every job, even the extra boring ones, and did my best to stay on track. Gradually, my bank account grew.

My friend, Jasmine, heard about this and decided to jump in. Jasmine is more serious than I am (job wise, at least), and, although she’s only like 20, she’s really smart. Her parents were able to afford insanely great schooling for her, and they chipped in for a lot of our trip. We probably we would have had to delay it another year if they hadn’t helped us so much. She and I get along well since she can kind of reel me in when I’m ready to run off.

So, while I was training, I was slowly buying the equipment I would need. Of course, I got the usual clothing--sweat-wicking underwear, long-sleeved shirt and long pants, fleece jacket, coat, and then a larger, bulkier coat, etc, etc. Pretty boring stuff, if you ask me.

But the coolest thing I bought was this air tank. First off, it is a lot lighter than other air tanks, but it can last a climber much longer, because of an incredibly incredible reason that is so incredible that it might just blow your incredibly uninformed mind. It is split into two compartments. One is filled with oxygen, the other is the air breathed out by the climber. There’s something techy about breathing in opening a valve and then breathing out closing it, so it leads to two different compartments, but I’m not really in that field of science, so what do I know? The air that is breathed out is filtered into the one compartment. There’s this bio paper thing that’s kind of like a plant in which it takes in the CO2 to make oxygen, but I literally have no idea how it works. I think there’s something to do with genetic manipulation, maybe? Who knows.

I’ve worked with it more than any of my other tanks and I love it to bits and pieces. I think it can last up to a week and a few days before the bio paper becomes worn out. After that, it becomes basically just a normal air tank.

So, anyways, we’re taking a plane tomorrow. This is like the only notebook I haven’t written in yet, so I’m taking it along. Luckily, it’s really sturdy. Not exactly my taste in books, since it is butt ugly. It’s from like five years ago, so that doesn’t help either. Well, whatever. It’ll do.

It’s going to take more than an entire day to get to Nepal, but we’re making it! I just finished packing not even like five minutes ago. Wait, just glanced at the clock. This has taken me a lot longer than I thought--forty minutes, actually! Well, I better sign off, if I’m going to catch the five o’clock flight tomorrow morning. Getting up at 3:30, driving out for thirty minutes, going through security, and then boarding. Sounds like fun, right?

See you in the morning!

Mallory Woodruff

March 01, 2018 (well, technically, it’s the second but it still feels like the first sooo)

Casey snores so loudly. I swear, my seat is shaking with the sound of him. I don’t want to wake him up though. If I could manage to fall asleep, I would too. But I’m not a great flyer, so I’d probably wake up and vomit all over myself.

Jasmine isn’t sleeping either. She’s still getting caught up with work. She’s kind of a push-over and takes other people’s unwanted work even when she doesn’t feel like doing it. She says that it’s not because she doesn’t want to stand up to them, it’s because she wants to get a promotion. But, if getting a promotion equals ten hours of work on a plane that has spent forever sputtering its way over eternal turbulence with no overpay, uh, thanks, but no thanks.

I’ve been passing the time by reading about Everest. Of course, lots of the writing is the “exciting” stuff that has happened on Everest, i.e., death, destruction, and the like. Maybe I should stop reading it. It’s interesting, but I guess it’s also kind of morbid for me to be reading it right now? Like, is it giving me bad karma? Does karma work like that? I don’t know.

We’re hitting more turbulence, and I doubt I’ll be able to make any comprehensible sentence in a few minutes. We’re supposed to land in like an hour, and then we take one final flight to Nepal.

Mallory Woodruff

March 03, 2018

Okay, so we’re in Nepal, and it’s warm. I mean, I know it was supposed to be warm, but I wasn’t actually expecting it to be this warm. With Everest so cold, it’s strange to me that, so close to the mountain, it’s warm. Anyways, update time.

So, we landed in Nepal smoothly. It was late, around one o’clock, when we landed. The other flight was supposed to get us to Nepal at ten, but it was delayed due to a storm. Talk about a bummer.

When we landed, I wanted to go out and eat somewhere nice. Casey had wanted to sleep some more, but when he heard about my idea, he instantly wanted to go, too. Jasmine eventually caved in, because, first off, food, and, second off, food.

So, we ate out. It was really nice, and I was so happy to not be eating plane/awful fast food. It was like a miracle, to have delicious spicy food again. I gobbled down my entire plate and then proceeded to wistfully mop up the remains of my dish and lick them off my finger. Casey had all of his, too, but then threw up later since he hadn’t eaten anything in like the past fifteen hours. (note to self: spicy food on an empty stomach is a no go. Learn from Casey’s mistake) Jasmine just ate some rice and had water.

Anyways, we have to take a short plane ride to Lukla tomorrow. We stopped in Kathmandu because it is gorgeous and I insisted on it. I accidentally left my camera at home, so you’ll have to make due with some crappy phone pictures.

The city is amazing, and, the best part, there are forests nearby. Like, national parks and stuff. If I were to move to Nepal, I would definitely come here. It’s really great. Wow, I sound so enthusiastic ending that sentence with a period. Shall I do it some more. Wow. I’m so excited that I’m going to climb Everest. Wow. Okay, I’ll stop now, haha. But seriously, it is beautiful around here!

It’s getting late, so I’m going to sign off. If anything cool happens on the flight, I’ll let you know!

Mallory Woodruff

March 04, 2018

The flight was only around 30 minutes, nothing crazy happened. The landing was terrifying though--the runway is so tiny! I swear, I was gripping Jasmine’s arm so hard that I’m surprised I didn’t break it. But, we’re safe and sound!

Today, we met with our guide. He speaks very limited English, but I’m sure that it won’t be a problem. After all, taking people places usually doesn’t require any words! I’m pretty good at reading expressions anyways, I think. Working with animals all the time has actually helped me learn people’s emotions and what they want to convey really well! It’s surprising, but sometimes I can guess what a person’s going to say even before they open their mouth. It’s a useful skill to have, I think.

We’re going to start our trek to Everest Base Camp today after we stretch for a little bit. I’ll probably write something once we stop.

Mallory Woodruff

March 04, 2018

Hey, for once I kept my word for doing something! For starters, let me talk about the villages.

So, people live on Everest. I don’t know if that’s common knowledge (I didn’t know before I started researching), but there you have it. They live in these small towns, with stone roads and stone houses. Although that sounds bland, they also have these amazing red roofs. The sun shines off of them softly, without the pernicious glare that reflective things back home have.

All our guide had to do was gesture at the village with a smile for us to freak out. Even Jasmine was in awe. There are a few cylindrical structures, with a small roof place on top. Tassels hang from the roof, which is shaped like a triangle but is kind of curvy. There are words written in a foreign language, in yellow-painted blocks. The main body is covered in red paint, and yellow and green designs line the top and bottom of the cylinder. It is just gorgeous!

They also have this line that runs throughout the village. There are faded cloths attached to it, colored in dim red and almost blushing blue shades. They are apparently prayer flags. Our guide told them that it’s not for gods; it’s for love and goodness. The flags apparently are made specifically to fly in the wind, to spread peace and joy. The village people believe it, and, if I’m being honest, watching the lines flicker in the wind, I do too.

We set up tents and are sleeping off the side of the trail. There are little lodges called tea houses, but we passed one, thinking we’d be able to make it to the next, since we were moving faster than expected. We were wrong. So, yeah.

I’m sleeping in Jasmine’s awesome tent (you can unzip parts of the tent for windows! In a tent! I wish my family was rich, then I could have cool tents too!), Casey brought his own tiny one, and our guide obviously has his own. I’ve seen at least six yaks, and we nearly ran into one on the trail. We had to walk around it, and the detour took a good twenty minutes to find a safe path, take it, and then get back to the trail. Definitely worth it, though! What I would give to study those yaks, though…

We have around another week to go before we make it up to base camp. I’ll try to update tomorrow!

Mallory Woodruff

March 09, 2018

Okay, so maybe I forgot about this and by the time I remembered I was too lazy to actually write in it. But! I’m writing now! We’re taking a quick water break and catching our breaths. I’ll catch you up on what’s happened since the fourth.

We’re about a day from base camp. We’ve actually made great time, and the weather has been super cooperative. The landscape has turned from green and gorgeous to pebbly and full of shrubs. It’s still pretty, and there are still prayer flags up here, it’s just not as welcoming as it was lower on the trail. Kind of crazy how different things can be just a little further up.

Remember those tea houses I mentioned? Well, we’ve only had to sleep in tents once since that first night. Our guide wanted us to be comfortable, so we’ve been able to sleep in one basically every night now. To sleep in beds is incredible, even if they are pretty stiff. You can also eat there, and by doing so, I’ve met a few people. Most are just going to base camp, hiking around, and then heading back down the mountain. A few have said that they’re attempting a summit, though! Glad to know that there are other crazies out there :)

Anyways, yesterday was the day that we had to sleep in our tents, and today we will too. The air is crazy thin up here. I am so happy that I trained really hard for this--I don’t think I would be able to make it up to camp otherwise. Our plan is to get to base camp, spend two days hiking, and then climb up to the higher camps.

So much has happened in the past nine days. Reading my old passages feels like they’re from a lifetime ago! It’s crazy; I don’t think time has ever held such meaning for me! Looks like we’re getting ready to move. I promise I will write as soon as we get to base camp.

Mallory Woodruff (why am I signing my name? I know it’s me. Maybe I should stop? Eh, too late now. Conformity!)

March 10, 2018

Haha! I did keep my promise! We’re here at base camp, and there are quite a few other climbers with their tents pitched. Some of them are really friendly, but most of them just want to be left alone as they enjoy the mountains. Our guide is going to accompany us on our first summit attempt, but after that, he’s leaving. (totally not because we couldn’t afford him any longer) He warned us against attempting a summit without a guide, but, although we didn’t tell him, we’re definitely going to do it anyways. Well, at least Casey and I will. Jasmine doesn’t seem too thrilled with the idea of climbing without someone who actually knows what they’re doing.

Anyways, like I said, we’re going to hike around for two days and then start climbing to the second camp. It’s going to take a really long time to get up to Camp IV, which is the camp directly before we attempt a summit. Like, 40 days long. I’ll try to update, but we’re probably going to be pushing pretty hard. :) See you later, I guess.

Mallory Woodruff

March 31, 2018

Halfway there! We just reached Camp II. It’s rough. So far, no need for oxygen tanks. Once we get to Camp IV, we’re going to need them, though. It’s crazy--every day feels incredible. Although, I do miss my bed… and the warm Wyoming sun… and my garden… BUT! It is still incredible to be on Everest. Besides, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I’ll always be able to sleep, sunbathe, and garden, but I won’t always be able to climb Everest!

Our camp is situated on a bed of rocks. Not exactly the most comfortable, but it’s the least slippery surface out here. There’s also a large ice wall-like thing behind us that keep the wind from, you know, blowing us off of the mountain in our sleep. Despite all its discomforts, it has a killer sunrise. Seriously, the colors tint the mountains in gorgeous shades of oranges and yellows, and the sun pokes his head out between the peaks, as if playing a game of peek-a-boo with me. It’s beautiful.

Sorry I haven’t been able to write recently. Also sorry that this entry is so short. I kind of want to focus on the trip while it’s happening, though. Otherwise, it’ll be over and I’ll have no memories but writing in this old journal! Plus, Jasmine and Casey got into a fight over something dumb. Jasmine is paranoid about work, and Casey told her to relax, Jasmine was like, Oh, shut up. You don’t work at all. Casey called her a rich asshole.

So. Yeah. That’s unfortunate. They haven’t talked to each other in like the past two days, but I’m sure they’ll eventually get over it. Besides, there’s not much else for one to do up here but think and talk. So I bet, in a few more days it’ll blow over.

Mallory Woodruff

April 03, 2018

Yep. They’re back to normal now. Jasmine is still worried about work, but Casey’s cooled off from her jabs. I’m glad it’s over--they were kind of using me as a shield against the other person and it really sucked.

We should get to Camp III in about a week. My brain feels numb from all of the snow, but, holy cow, I am happy that I have sunglasses. It’s blinding sometimes, even with them on! The way the sun smacks off of the snow and into your eyes--it hurts! I’ve avoided sunburns since I’m basically covered from head-to-toe. I am so glad that I have all of this equipment.

Oh! I also decided to take only two of my air tanks with me. The trip up to Everest will take only a day. When our guide learned that I was carrying four tanks, he just laughed and told me to pick one. I decided, hey, why not take two?

One will last me around three days, and the other is the super special one that I was talking about earlier. Really, there is probably no need for the first one, since the special one will probably sustain me just fine. But, you know, just in case. :)

There are only a few puffs in the sky today. It’s gorgeous.

Mallory Woodruff

April 09, 2018

Again, we made good time and arrived at Camp III a whole day early! That leaves us some time to chill, and, for me, to write in my journal!

I’ve been taking some wickedly great pictures. I wish I could print them out right now, but I’ll have to wait until I get back home. Even then, they’re not going to be of the highest quality. But, Jasmine has a camera (as I have learned in recent days), and I have been slowly mooching it off of her. Maybe I can convince her to print out some photos from it when she gets home? Hopefully!

Our guide is really kind and helpful. He’s been sure to keep us safe. If there’s any sign of a storm, he warns us to be careful and sometimes turns us back. Nothing has happened, though… yet! Haha.

Anyways, from here on out, it’s going to be really tough. Things are going to be slow, since the air’s so thin up here, and we’ll have to stop every half hour or so. When we’re not moving, I’m going to be catching my breath. So, you’ll just have to wait until we get there for an update. I’ll make sure to give you all the “deets,” though! I’m sure Jasmine and Casey will have another absolutely awesome fight to talk about.

Mallory Woodruff

April 20, 2018

Finally made it. Christ, I am tired. As expected, Jasmine and Casey are fighting again. The air isn’t the only thing that’s running thin up here.

I think Jasmine has gone into super high-stress mode now that her phone has no service (i.e., no communication to work, i.e., no way to make sure that everything’s going alright, i.e., Jasmine’s hell). She’s even short with me. I try to remind her that we are, after all, climbing Everest, but she won’t listen. To her, it’s probably not even that special. Her family could probably afford a summer home on Everest.

Casey’s been alright. He’s quieter than usual, probably because of the drama with Jasmine and stuff, but at least he’s not yelling at me.

With no one really to talk to, I guess I have some time to write. But I don’t really know what to write about…

We’re going to spend a day resting and then go attempt our first summit, at midnight. Our guide said that it’s best to start the climb at midnight, so we can make it up the mountain before the light dies the next day. He said we should get up there by morning, hopefully.

It’ll probably be our only try, since Jasmine’s head is going to explode if we spend much longer up here. I’m inclined to agree with her. I think all of this time spent together is somehow doing our friendships more harm than good. Once we get back to the States, this should all be undone. Hopefully.

Anyways, I’m probably just going to take more pictures tomorrow. Don’t miss me too much, journal.

Mallory Woodruff

April 21, 2018

Ascent day! I’m really excited! Not even Casey’s and Jasmine’s bickering can make this day go badly. I am determined to make the most of this day/night. In about 30 minutes, we’re going to start climbing. There are a few clouds, and the wind has picked up a little bit, but our guide says it should be alright. He feels bad for how Casey and Jasmine have been bickering and promised us to try his very best to get us to the summit.

I should probably stop writing and help out. I’ll write later hopefully, once we reach the summit! Not much though, I’ll probably just write ‘summit!’ or something, since I’ll want to enjoy the view as much as I can. I’ll make the word very pretty though! Maybe I’ll curve the S specially and make the t wind underneath the whole word--that would look pretty great. :)

Mallory Woodruff

April ???

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

I have no idea what day it is. At least three days have passed. I’ve been out for almost all of it, I have no idea what to do.

Shit.

I’ve lost everyone. I can’t move, either. The storm blew in way too much snow, every step is a risk. All I could do was build a snow den.

I have enough water for a while. I’m asleep (well, passed out), most of the time. I have no idea when rescue will arrive, so I’ve set my air tank to its lowest setting. Christ, I just need to explain everything.

We were climbing up the mountain when the winds began to pick up. It was about an hour after we had started. Our guide, being the careful man that he is, said that we should stop and go back to camp. He even offered us a free day of his labor so we could attempt the summit again.

So, we turned back. But the storm had crept up on us in the dark. The winds picked up, and kicked up the snow. My flashlight could barely scout out a few inches in front of me. It was pitch-black too, so that didn’t help anything either.

The howling gusts overpowered our voices. I screamed for Casey and Jasmine, but I never heard a response. Eventually, I had to assume that either they had run to camp, or they were dead. I built a snow shelter, basically a glorified hole in the side of the mountain.

I collapsed and turned my air tank down to the lowest setting. I think it has a day left in it. That’s what the meter says, anyway.

I am so infinitely happy that I was carrying my extra tank. I also have at least two dozen bottles of water. I have some food, but not enough for more than a few days. At least since I’m barely awake, I don’t need as much to stay alive. My clothing layers are all that’s keeping me warm enough. But I can already feel the beginnings of frostbite. You aren’t meant to stay still when trekking on Everest.

The snowstorm hasn’t stopped yet. It’s crazy how powerful it is. On one of the days I remember, I had to clear out my den, since it was filled with a fine powder of snow. Also, the fact that the storm isn’t over yet poses another risk--rescue. They obviously can’t send a chopper in this weather, so I’m just going to have to hold on as long as I can.

This might be my last entry ever. If so, mom, dad, I love you so much. I doubt that you’ll ever read this message if I die, but on the off chance that you do, know that I love you more than my job, despite what you probably think.

Jasmine, I love you too. Please chill once in a while. It helps all of us, but mostly you.

Casey, never stop being you. Find yourself a nice woman and have the romance you’ve been dreaming about.

I don’t even know why I’m writing. I should stop.

The storm is finally over. My first tank is empty, but it doesn’t matter because I have my second. I attached it without any issues.

I cleared away some snow and laid out my empty water bottles and bags of provisions, and my air tank. Forgive me for polluting, but this is the best way for someone to spot me. In my snow hut, I’m going to be invisible, despite my bright orange coat. But I can’t go out, in case it starts to snow again. Plus, everything is unsteady. If I took one step beyond my garbage signal, I would probably tumble down the mountain.

All I can do is hope, and wait. I’m too tired to continue writing. I have to turn my oxygen back down, just in case. It’ll make me pass out, but I’ll have enough to last me at least a few days. I’ll eventually wake up. I will.

Okay, so let me start this off by saying I have no idea what the hell happened.

I woke up in a strange cave. My stuff is all in the corner, but the floor is dirt and the ceiling is ice. So, if this is the government’s rescue mission, they chose a strange place to put me.

What concerns me is the shape of the cave. I’ve worked in the field for a long time. When an animal lives in an area for a long time, especially dig-outs, the walls become smooth from them constantly rubbing past them. Usually, the area has to be pretty small. Otherwise, their bodies won’t reach everywhere.

This cave is showing the same signs. However, it is a large cave, so the animal that supposedly lives here must be massive, easily eight or nine feet tall. More likely, its height is in the double digits.

At the same time, it just can’t be an animal den. It feels more like a person’s hideaway than a den. There are no bones or discarded branches. No urine smell. I’ve never seen an animal keep its den this clean. Hell, I don’t keep my house this clean.

Finally, there was just a pile of blackberries waiting for me. Fresh. As if picked a few hours ago. Do you know the last time I saw vegetation?

Before we reached base camp. Which is now more than 3,000 meters below me.

What. The. Hell.

Maybe it’s the abominable snowman, but he grows a really nice garden and heats it using his magic. Maybe he’s super civil and shit, and enjoys a strong cup of tea. Brushes his fur every night with a comb elegantly carved from pine wood. He’s probably so nice that he brought me FURTHER UP THE MOUNTAIN.

Oh yeah, not kidding. I’m definitely higher up. I’ve had to turn up my oxygen input, because I will not wake up if I turn it any lower. Not in this temperature. Plus, I don’t want to be surprised again by whatever took me up here. My tank has about a week left in it, I think.

I need to start moving. I’m going to eat the blackberries and then head out. There’s no way that a rescue team will think to search for me higher up on the mountain than where I was when the storm hit. They’ll just assume I’m dead. I’m going to start walking down.

Okay, so I have two things to say.

One, I’m not going to be heading down the mountain for a long time.

Two, I found what brought me up here.

So, I walked out of the strange cave and not even five feet away was a gigantic creature. I have never seen anything like it. It has no fur. Rather, it looks like it only has scales. But there’s no way that it’s a regular reptile. A cold-blooded creature would freeze to death in seconds at this height. Anything would, but especially something that has no internal body temperature.

Its jaw jutted from its face, and massive teeth spike out from them. Angular horns formed from the side of its head and flanked its jaw. Crown-like ice structures (or perhaps more horns) poked out on its head. It looks like that, naturally, it would be white, but it is pale blue on every edge of its body. Almost like it’s suffering from frostbite, but all of its limbs have remained intact.

Its claws are massive, easily closeable and made for crushing. Its shoulders are rough and powerful. It has a tail with a claw-like appendage at the end, the use of which I can only imagine in my nightmares. Its belly is plated with sharp, curving scales that fold over each other to allow easy movement.

Although my biologist’s mind noted all of this in a moment, I was instantly drawn to its eyes. They were the only part of the creature that stuck out from the snow. They were a deep orange, blazing with life. I could see recognition in them. The way it focused on me was not in a normal, animal one. It was like… it knew me. I think it’s intelligent.

I’ve never seen something like it. I have no idea how it’s alive up here. Why hasn’t anyone seen it before? Why haven’t I heard of it?

After I saw it, I didn’t scream and I didn’t run. If there’s one thing I’ve learned during my time on the field is that the best thing you can do during a situation is be calm. I just turned around and walked back into the cave. Every step caused more blood to flow from my head and into my feet. Once I felt the dirt underneath my shoes, I passed out.

And now I’m awake. I’ve checked my tank--I haven’t been out long. Perhaps an hour or so. There are more blackberries on the ground. I have now realized that it put the blackberries there earlier. It’s keeping me alive. But why? Why not just eat me?

That’s another reason why I’m drawing the conclusion that it is intelligent. There is no other way to explain its strange, un-animal-like behavior. I’m going to go out again, but this time, I’m going to try to see what I can learn about it. I don’t think it means me harm. If it does, there’s not much I can do anyway. I’m bringing my journal, in the rare chance that I can get a sketch of it.

Wish me luck. I hope I don’t die.

It’s night now. Let me explain what happened during the eight hours in which I didn’t write anything.

It definitely means me no harm. When I came out again, it did nothing but watch me with those warm sunrise eyes. I approached and, despite my best abilities, I was shaking pretty badly. When I reached it though, all it did was lift its head.

It stared at me, as if drinking in every detail. From the tip of my hat to the toes of my boots, it memorized me. If I had any doubts about its intelligence, I forgot them then.

I felt like I was on the field again, but the roles were reversed. Suddenly, I was the animal being studied under the watchful eye of a giant. It was terrifying but thrilling. In a strange way, I felt as if I was being cared for by it, like its recognition was something to be treasured.

As the day wore on, our “friendship” grew. It showed me to its berry storage. There were dozens of fresh branches. How it brought them up the mountain, I don’t know.

It also allowed me to sketch it. I have a few pages filled with drawings and rough measurements. My phone is dead, though, and Casey was the one handling the solar panels and extra batteries. So, no photos.

It is way more intelligent than I previously thought. I talked to it out of habit (and partially out of loneliness), and it looked at me with… interest. Understanding. Like it was learning the English language as I was speaking to it. I would kill to get a brain scan of this creature.

In less than three hours, I have been able to communicate it using simple hand gestures. It picked up on them quickly, far more quickly than even a moldable-brained toddler could. However, it doesn’t just know the hand signs, it understands them too.

We watched the sunset together. I sat with it near a cliff face. It stared at the sun as it dipped behind the tree line far below, its slitted pupils dilating and growing as they adjusted to the changing light. I watched the sunset by looking at the reflection of it on the creature’s eyes. It never looked at me once, entranced by the beautiful colors. Occasionally, it would close its eyes in a manner that I can only describe as longing. It would tilt back its head and breathe in deeply, its nostrils flaring, as if marking this moment in time, a sweet memory to savor in dark times. I understand the feeling.

When it was dark, the creature stood. Stretching, it motioned at me to move. We returned to the den, and there was just enough room for the both of us. I turned on my flashlight and tried to communicate more with the creature using hand signals. It couldn’t reply well, but it was obvious that it understood me.

I motioned at myself and held up one finger. Then, I gradually began to add more to my hand, until I had all five fingers up. Then I pointed down the mountain. I gestured at it and raised one finger, tilting my head inquisitively. The question was clear: where is your family?

The beast didn’t do anything for a second, silently staring at my finger, single among the other folded fingers. It closed its eyes and laid its head on the ground. Confused, I craned my neck to see why it had ignored me. A small tear leaked out of its closed eye, instantly crystallizing on its cheek. I turned away, my heart thudding painfully.

There are none left of its kind.

Is that why it took me? How long has it been alone? I think it’s lonely, really lonely. Maybe that’s why it hasn’t killed me yet.

…

I haven’t thought about escape much. Well, until now I suppose. This creature… whatever it may be, it is the most interesting thing that has ever happened to me. I can’t think about Jasmine or Casey. I have to focus on what’s going on in front of me. If they are dead, my tears will not help, and if they aren’t, then I have no reason to cry.

I’m going to sleep now.

Today was wonderful. The creature gave me more berries to eat. Although they are getting old (and are quite frostbitten), they still are tastier than the pre-packaged food I’ve been living off of for the past few weeks.

I’ve managed on my water well. I have to be careful, though. It’s cold enough up here that any dribbles will freeze. I don’t think it’s cold enough to freeze my mouth, but I’m going to be careful, just in case. I think if I drink about two bottles per day, I could live up here for about a week.

I have started calling the creature Hiransh. I don’t know many Nepali names, and, plus, I think my great grandfather’s fits him perfectly. Hiransh doesn’t seem to need food or water. Of course, he must eat and drink at some time; all creatures must. I believe that he is a predominantly hibernal animal. Almost like mountain goats, I think he spends most of his life on the mountains, coming down occasionally to eat, but, unlike goats, spends lots of his time sleeping. It makes the most sense to me.

His tail is the strongest part of his body, that much I have learned. Four large claws sprout out of the end of it, and, as he once allowed me to inspect it, I have discovered that, inside the claws, it is covered with tiny, hook-like bones. They curl inwards to the center of the tail.

Here is my theory: Using his tail for balance, he climbs up and down the mountains every few months to get food. His tail is used almost like a fifth leg. He relies on it to grasp surfaces as he moves along the terrain, and, on occasion, to support himself as he climbs directly upwards. Despite his bulky build, he has shown himself to be fluid of movement. I would ask him if I’m correct, but he’s been icy since my question about his family. Pun definitely intended.

Anyways, Hiransh has kept me safe. He can’t keep me warm (he is cold-blooded, as I have found out. Still no clue how his body can deal with that), but he does block most of the wind with his gigantic body. I think he has come to see me as almost a hatchling of his own. With no one else around, it seems perfectly natural for him to do that.

He showed me a new den that he has been building. It is much bigger than his old one. He sat at the entrance, staring after me with a pleased expression in his eyes as I explored his cave. I have noticed over time that he’s meticulously neat--no piles of snow clutter the inside of the cave, no claw marks gouge the carefully patted-down floor, and branches from the berries are stacked in the corner.

I wonder how many caves he’s built. On top of that, I wonder how long he’s been alive. I would bet he has been around for quite a long time. He has an ancient, all-knowing air to him. Maybe that’s romanticizing things a little bit, haha.

I have to think of him as less as a subject to be studied, and more of as a friend. Perhaps it is because I am alone up here, but I like to think that, in any circumstance, Hiransh and I would get along well.

I almost wish I could stay up here forever. Hiransh is the discovery of a lifetime.

Perhaps my mom was right. Maybe I do love my job more than my friends and family.

Spent three days without writing anything. Very sorry! I have been really busy--will tell you more about it tomorrow!

So, I’m heading to bed now. Let me tell you what’s happened over the past few days. So, the first out of the four that I have to talk about. Hiransh worked on his den. I couldn’t do much, but I helped pack in the walls, so they were more structurally sound. He was appreciative of my work and grumbled a low thanks in his chest. It made me feel warm inside.

We worked well together, with him doing the moving and me doing the sculpting. He was doing work that would’ve taken me weeks, and I was doing work that he would have to rely on time to accomplish for him.

By the end of the first day, the den was mostly done. It wasn’t perfect, but it was much larger than his last home. Instead of his back scraping the roof, he would have to stand on his hind legs to brush it with his head. I’m serious when I said it was big!

We moved my stuff to the new den. I kind of just slung it in the corner, and plopped down. Hiransh shuffled around before coming to sit beside me. When I turned to look at what he did, I saw that my backpack and all the other things that I was carrying were neatly reorganized.

He and I are more different than two creatures could be. He’s in his comfort zone up here; that much is obvious. I’m not… but that has been made quite clear by recent events, right? He’s also meticulously neat for an animal. He rarely has a scale out of place, where, here I am, sometimes not able to remember which way is left and which way is right.

But, we do make quite a pair.

So, after that day, he let me ride him. Yeah, you heard that right. I rode this snow creature. It was terrifying, and he didn’t go faster than a trot, but it was incredible. I was so high up, and I felt almost connected to him through the roll of his muscles. I never stopped squeezing my arms around his neck for dear life, though.

He showed me how he hunted. It’s something that I’ve been wondering about. Surely a creature of his stature couldn’t survive on berries alone. He demonstrated with a tiny branch that has already been stripped of its blackberries. So, he buries himself quickly underneath the snow and, if needed, into the dirt. Then, he covers himself with the snow and waits for something to walk over him. When it does, he bursts out of the snow and catches the creature in his jaws.

Let me tell you, seeing this massive snow lizard erupt out of the snow just to “kill” a twig the length of my forearm is actually the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.

We watched the sunset together, again. This time, I didn’t stare at him, though. I just looked ahead.

Yesterday, we just hung out in the snow. He and I dug random snow pits. Of course, his were always bigger. But mine were more elaborate, if I do say so myself. I love the idea of some random climber stumbling upon them and thinking that there are aliens on Everest making weird snow shrines. Hehe, but still not as funny as Hiransh killing a stick.

Today, he took me to where he finds his berries. It’s actually not that far down the mountain, surprisingly. If the gigantic claw marks in the wall have anything to say, I think that he actually planted it himself.

He has dug out a wide pit for the berries, down to the rock of the mountain, and filled the hole with soil. On top of the soil, he put dark black rocks, which is something I never would’ve thought of in a million years. It’s genius that he’s using colors to keep the berries warm. He lays thin layers of snow on top of the rocks, which melt and water the plants. Everything he does just makes me think that he’s that much smarter than I thought before.

I also sketched more pictures of him. I’m always learning something new about him. It seems that there is no end to his secrets. If only I had access to better lab equipment, I might be able to run some actual tests…

Well, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, I’m tired. Tomorrow, we’re planning on some more snow fun! Maybe I can teach him how to make a snowman. Doubtful, with those big, clumsy claws of his, but I can try. :)

I’m back at base camp.

Only a day has passed.

I’ve never felt so hollow before.

May 13th, 2018

I think I can talk about this now. I’m sitting in a hotel room right now. Casey has finally left me alone. Tomorrow I’m leaving for the States. Goodbye, Nepal. Goodbye, Hiransh.

Let me explain what happened.

I woke up in the middle of the night. Coughing. It was so bad, I had to breathe in every five seconds, but I never had enough air. I was sick multiple times, all over myself. Hiransh woke up as well, his orange eyes snapping open instantly. I was grasping at my throat, trying to remove the empty air tank’s mask. Hiransh understood what I was trying to do and slashed off the mask with his claws. In his terrified rush, he left a deep cut on my cheek. Despite the mask being taken off, I was coughing and unable to breathe.

Finally, Hiransh seemed to come to a decision. He carefully scooped me up in his jaws. Strangely enough, the only teeth that he has are outside of his mouth, so instead of being impaled the moment he picked me up, I was just bounced along inside.

He made it down the mountain in record time. I passed in and out of consciousness. Only the splash of snow on my face kept me from slipping away. He would bound, bound, bound, skid to a stop, kick up snow, and then bound, bound, bound again. It was jarring.

Finally, we were far enough down the mountain that I could breathe. I took in the air in gasps, planting my hands on the side of Hiransh’s face. Once he realized that it wasn’t a fit for air, he let me from his jaws. Pebbly earth met my boots.

I held Hiransh’s massive head in my hands, feeling the rough scratch of his scales against my skin. A tear slipped down his face, but this time it did not turn to ice.

“Hiransh,” I whispered. I realized he wouldn’t understand me, so I tried to sign to him that I was heartbroken.

I told him that I couldn’t breathe up there. I was never going to be able to live with him. His shoulders slumped, and his ice-blue eyelids closed over his inner fire. I’m so sorry Hiransh. He’s alone. No one will ever be able to stay with him.

I told him that I would come back. I promised that I would meet him by the berry patch in the summer. I vowed to return.

I will return.

Hiransh, please do not give up.

2 Feb. ‘81

This took hours to find. My old bones made it such a pain, too. But, I have to, before I fade away.

Since I suppose that this journal will be given away, I must explain a few things. Like what happened with the rest of my life.

Well, I just kept living it. People discovered me where Hiransh had left me. I was stumbling down the mountain, crying and without a backpack, my phone, or anything really. All I had was the journal that was in my hands when I fell asleep. Luckily, the winds blew snow over Hiransh’s tracks. He was never discovered.

Of course, people were curious. I managed to hide the journal in time, but the press bothered me for days afterwards, when all I wanted to do was mourn the loss of a friend.

Casey and Jasmine were both alive. Jasmine had severe frostbite on her ears, and on three of her left fingers. Her pinkie had to be amputated. But, otherwise, they were miraculously unharmed. Our reunion was tearful. I don’t remember much but a blur. It seems as if all of my memories are like that nowadays.

I continued with my job when I got home and never told anyone about Hiransh. I hid the journal--I knew I should’ve burned it, but I feared that, if I did, I would lose my memories of Hiransh, convince myself that they were just a dream. So, I held onto it, quietly.

I went to therapy, obviously. Eventually, I stopped having panic attacks and got over my chronic sadness. I was able to stop when I was 35, 12 years after the incident. I was never the same, though. Never as excitable, never as fun-loving, never as... naive.

I never forgot Hiransh, like I had feared I would. The place he scratched me when trying to save my life has turned into a scar. I think of him almost every day, wondering how he is doing alone. It breaks my heart to have the terrible knowledge of him, alone on the mountain. Unless someone out there discovered him and is as good at keeping a secret as I am, I doubt he’s been found.

Casey and I married when we were 38. I know, a little later than most, but we wanted to be ready. We adopted a Nepali girl, four years old. We named her Lily. We had our first grandchild when we were 68. A boy named Thomas.

And then there’s you, sweet child. You were always my favorite grandkid (don’t tell your brother that). You loved my work so much. And so I will pass it onto you.

I have spent a lifetime tracking down the berry patch that Hiransh showed me all of those years ago. I have attached the coordinates, as accurate as I could make them, to this journal. You may choose not to believe me, but I implore you, please, please, please, travel to Everest, visit the berry patch, and you will find that I am telling the truth. Grandma Mallory was never one for dementia, right? Don’t be stupid, either. Tell people you are going, but don’t bring them with you. Take a guide, but leave them before the summit. Don’t tell anyone about him, even if you choose to not believe me. Go during summer, in April. He will be waiting.

I know he will.

I love you. Remember me when I’m gone.

Mallory Woodruff.

*wipes sweat off of forehead*

Finally done! If I ever want to revisit this story, it would be quite fun to write about Mallory’s grandkid, and maybe about her grandkid, and so on and so forth. Maybe it would gradually be integrated into the Woodruff family, a treasured family secret, perhaps? But, that’s a story for another time. :) Thanks for reading!

- L.E. Silva

#everest #short story #writing #writers on tumblr #adventure #SSSChallenge

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thewaywedo33 · 7 years ago

Text

Wynonna Earp 2X10 Thoughts and Faves

I’ll be honest, I was expecting an episode with a complex plot and crazy reveals. Instead, we got an episode that was so simplistically beautiful in its focus that it took my breath away at times. Don’t get me wrong, I know over the course of the final two episodes we’ll find out things are connected in all sorts of crazy ways we didn’t see coming, and big ‘ole twists will happen, but this week the focus was on the individuals and their relationships. So many quiet truths about the characters played out on screen over the course of the hour, and all I can say is, Andras & Co. can throw my expectations out the window anytime they like.

This week’s opening scene might be my new favorite of the entire series. We had three women on screen dropping sassy one-liners while fighting, and I was grinning right up until that “Baby, stay with me” heart punch.

(This is Rude)

I loved Waverly and Nicole fighting like hell for each other. It doesn’t mean the issues between them disappeared (as we saw acknowledged in the hospital), but it does mean they have each other’s backs when things go down. They’re willing to throw themselves into the fray to protect the other. I think the scene is a glimpse of what we could get in Season 3, once Nicole is finally fully integrated into the team. Waverly now knows keeping Nicole at arm’s length doesn’t do a thing to protect her. Danger literally came knocking at Nicole’s door despite her efforts. The best way for them to protect each other is to fight side by side, but it won’t always be enough, as was the case this week.

The hospital scene before Nicole gets put under was such a quietly poignant exchange. Nicole gets her chance to properly apologize for hiding the DNA results, and Waverly is able to express that she doesn’t give a shit nugget about that right now, given the circumstances. Nicole surviving is ALL that matters to her, they can work the rest out later. The best of themselves and their relationship comes out in the span of a few seconds. Nicole is earnest and sincere, and Waverly is whimsical and sweet. Together they just work, like two puzzle pieces. Even though they’re cut with completely different angles and edges, they fit perfectly with one another.

My heart broke a little when Nicole said she loved her, and Waverly couldn’t say it back in the moment. I get it, she felt like it would be an admission that Nicole won’t make it. But the longer she’s goes without speaking the words, the more I’m convinced she’s afraid to say it. That if she does, Nicole will be ripped away from her somehow. Because that’s been her main experience with the people she loves. Wynonna left her behind for years, Curtis died, Gus seemingly handed her a check to take the place of her love and support as she booked herself a one-way ticket out of hellsville. But now that Nicole has survived this ordeal, I suspect Waverly will realize life is too short to holdback anymore.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Nicole tells Waverly she loves her more than she’s ever loved anyone shortly before Shae shows up. Nicole’s a smart cookie, she probably had an inkling Shae would get called, but when you’re writhing around in burning pain on your deathbed it’s not really the time to finally have the talk with your current girlfriend about how you got married on a whim and haven’t finalized the divorce yet.

Let’s talk about that wife reveal. How perfect that Ms. Pleat-in-her-pants lost her mind for a short while and tied the knot in a Britney/slots induced euphoria. It actually fits with her personality. Some of the most level-headed people in the world got that way by doing impulsive things and learning from them. I’m not sure if we’ll find out exactly why she and Shae aren’t divorced yet, but I suspect Nicole headed to Purgatory to make a fresh start, advance in her career, and had zero intention of getting romantically involved with anyone for awhile. She probably figured there was no rush on the divorce paperwork. But then Waverly Earp took her by surprise and completely upended her world.

The way Shae’s eyes widened just a tad when Waverly gave her name reads to me like she knew who Waverly was, so I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to find out Nicole called her recently to have a little chat about that divorce paperwork. Nothing announces you’re serious about the new girlfriend like mentioning you’re dating, and hey, could we maybe push that divorce through asap? Plus, Waverly never said her last name, yet Shae referee to her as Waverly Earp later in the episode. Maybe she heard it while around the hospital, but I think the info might have come from Nicole.

I didn’t expect the Earp sisters to wind up on opposite sides of handling an issue so soon, but boy did this set up nicely. I understand both sides. Waverly is still reeling from her fight with Nicole and the kiss and Tucker, and she’s tired of having the things she loves ripped away from her, damn it.

(Waves has had it up to here, and quite frankly, she gives a damn)

Wynonna is tired of being burdened with a curse and all the repercussions she didn’t ask for. The third seal represents a chance to finally take control of things for once. She can raise Demon Clootie when she’s ready, and end the curse before it ends her and everyone she loves. Unfortunately she made a unilateral decision again, to hide the seal without telling anyone else on the team where it is. The face Waverly made when Wynonna revealed she had the seal suggests it was going to be an issue even if it hadn’t turned out to be prominent in saving Nicole.

(Mayday, this is not the face of an angel)

Yes, Waverly made a poor choice. It was impulsive, and in the end Wynonna came through with the antidote as promised, but I can’t blame Waverly for feeling like she had to exhaust every possible avenue, no matter how ill-advised. The woman she loves is on her deathbed, that alone is going to cloud her judgement. And while Waverly does trust Wynonna implicitly with her own life, it make sense for her to have doubts about her ability to save Nicole. Because Wynonna was convinced she could save Willa, told Waverly she was going to get her back, but ultimately had to shoot her. I know, the situation was different. Willa went all evil and was being pulled into the ground by a giant tentacle, but those are the sort of demonic curve balls that get thrown at them all the time, so I find it forgivable if Waverly couldn’t quite bring herself to believe Wynonna would pull off getting the cure.

I don’t believe the Earp girls will stay at odds for long. Waverly's choice feels like something pre-curse Wynonna would do. It’s all well and good that Wynonna says she would have trusted her team to deal with the situation, but that seems like a place she arrived at roughly fifteen minutes ago. Waverly is going to have to do things on her own learning curve, and I’d like to believe Wynonna will realize that eventually. Also, I just plain need the Earp sisters to not be at odds for a long time, because they are very important to me.

In regards to Waverly making a deal with Greta, all I can say is, of course Waverly trusted Greta, because it’s who she is. She didn’t believe Tucker was the total dumpster fire he was until he tried to kidnap her. It’s kind of a tragic flaw of hers. She probably should have gone to Wynonna once she found the seal, but the clock was ticking. Couple that with Dolls essentially giving her permission to hand over the third seal to Beth, and I can’t really blame her for the choice.

Speaking of Dolls, his “You’d do anything for the woman you love, right?” didn’t seem like he was just talking about Waverly with Nicole. I’m pretty much done making predictions for future episodes, because I’m batting about .125 with this show, but I think he’s referring to himself with Wynonna too. I have to wonder if he WANTS Clootie to rise so they can break the curse sooner rather than later, and the woman he loves can focus on her baby and making a real life outside of the constant danger and hell.

Nedley was such a good this episode. I’m regularly impressed by the show’s ability to give even the side characters meaningful development and arcs. We’ve come so far from Wynonna flipping him off in the pilot to trusting him with the seal. I like that we got to see him use his cop smarts, too. Mentioning his barstool altar and then casually asking Widow Mercedes where her altar is was well-played. And because there is apparently not a single villain in any fictional universe who can resist giving up really useful information while monologuing, she gives him info about where the ritual will go down.

Nicole and Nedley displayed a similar awareness in this episode, even while in pain/being tortured. Nicole, when the first thing she thinks to tell Wynonna is what Mercedes said about the law, and Nedley, with his alter question. It fits well now that we know Nedley handpicked Nicole as his successor.

Rapid Fire Random Thoughts:

-I wonder if Jeremy’s aversion to using Rosita and Dolls as guinea pigs has anything to do with what happened to his mother?

-It took Doc approximately .001 seconds to be ready to saddle up and go into battle when Wynonna told him Nicole was dying. The entire team really showed how much they care about her this week. I can only hope her found family makes it clear to her in future episodes, since, you know, she spent this one on her death bed and isn’t really aware of how everyone reacted.

-We got such a good tidbit with the reveal that Nicole doesn’t speak to her parents. I’ve felt deep in my bones that was the case ever since episode 1×07 (Hey, I got something right!). Something about her reaction to not being invited to Waverly’s party struck me. Sure, she was crushing on Waverly, and looking for new friends in this wackadoodle town, but it smacked of more than that. She also admitted in 2x08 she still struggles with feeling like an outsider with the Earps. I think Nicole harbors a deep desire to have a family who accepts her unconditionally, and it’s a truth easy to miss with all her confident swagger.

-I’m really going to need WayHaught to stop asking Wynonna to make impossible decisions. (1×13 handing over Peacemaker to Willa/2×10 Agreeing to end Nicole’s life if it comes to that). I also need Scrofano to stop doing that thing with her face when she tells them ‘Okay’ because it makes my heart break for Wynonna. Widow Mercedes could not have been more wrong when she said Wynonna doesn’t care about anyone but herself.

-Rosita the Revenant is stealing my heart a bit. Wynonna threatens her to get her to help save Nicole’s life, and Rosita responds by letting her know all she had to do was ask. You could tell she meant it too, and it wasn’t coming from a place of guilt, just compassion and a growing care for this group of people Doc thrust her into.

-I got Angel feels when the Order mentioned taking Wynonna’s baby in. Dolls better not get any crazy ideas about handing Wynonna’s baby over to them, because no one needs a moody boy coming back through a portal and bringing all the storylines and characterization to a screeching halt. (Ahem, sorry, still bitter).

-Everything about Nicole’s house is exactly the way I thought it would be. And after seeing her in her natural environment, I’m calling even more bunk on that giant purse she had in 2x08. Because come on, someone who wears cool Puma kicks, a blue button-up with the sleeves rolled up, makes an Ikea reference, uses soft blue-tones throughout the house, and has that collection of boots lined up? Not a gal who’s carrying around that purse. (Pursegate 2017 is the fictional hill I’m willing to die on, apparently). Also, I feel personally attacked by the Wynonna Earp styling department for putting Nicole in that outfit. It’s like one of them overheard me yelling in a bar about all my lady fashion weaknesses (which happens more often than I care to admit).

See you next week, after what I’m sure will be a ho-hum penultimate episode, because that’s what this show does best.

(J/K, this is me heading to the TV in my excitement...also, it’s never a bad time to use this Gif)

#Wynonna Earp #Episode 2x10 #Waverly Earp #Nicole Haught #WayHaught #Weekly rambling thoughts #Cuffs Gifs

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queerofcups · 7 years ago

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a-z for the fanfic asks!

Well Nonzinga, some of these require you to name a specific fic, but I’ll answer all the ones I can, yeah? You or whoever are totes welcome to ask about individual fics. If you’re wondering what’s under the read more, its mostly me gushing about super talented writers and blathering about fic tropes that i like a lot or don’t like a lot.

A: How did you come up with the title to [insert fic]?The answer for all of them (except unashamed, wide open for joy which is a line from allen ginsberg’s sphincter) is from a song, that I try to name within the authors notes.

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?Yeah, some of them have little nuggets of stuff that’s happened to me irl.everybody told me it was bad to do was pretty much lifted from my own shit & dramatized a bit, love me for the day has some similar relationship stuff, mostly its just little bits of dialogue and turns of phrases and what not.

C: What member do you identify with most?Danny Flames. Anxious internet former emos, man.

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I had my nephew in mind when writing this and I don’t have a ton of experience writing AAVE but I do know that I’ve seen tons of examples of people writing it badly/stereotypically so it was cool to dup into that a little bit. I don’t do a lot of dialogue just because I like it too much but that sort of back and forth dialogue can get old fast. Here’s the snippet:

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?If it’s a shorter piece, usually start to finish. If its longer, out of order.

H: How would you describe your style?Uuuuuuugh, pretentious former art school kid does fandom? I think I’m a fiction writer with something of a poetic bent.

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?So I’m going to interpret “guilty” to mean I often find this written problematically this but read it in fic and, shocker, its all smut: a/b/o, knotting stuff in general, mating stuff in general, size kink, feminization, humiliation, gangbangs, umm hold on there’s probably more, medkink, fics involving the phrase “just the tip” and the ensuing action where it becomes…not just the tip.

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?A realistic take on what it’d be like if they came out or their relationship in the immediate aftermath of the v-day video.

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?Not…enough? Like. A half a time. Y’all have read my fic, you know I don’t review that shit enough times. It’s a terrible habit that pops up in all areas of my writing life.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?Sex toy reviewer Dan AU. Phil is a flirt 5 + 1.Early DnP furry ficSomething something comeplay

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?All of them? No, uhm, I really want to turn you were temporary, I can’t bear for you to leave into a full on fic but Nonnie, I’m tired

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?Plot idea

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)An architect with a green thumb. I like to have a plan, but I’m also fine letting a scene go where it goes.

Q: How do you feel about collaborations?😬 it seems like a really fun idea but I could only do it with someone who a. I was very close with and b. had a similar writing style (or was willing to be flexible). I love the idea of batting ideas back and forth and then posting whatever comes up, but actually formal co-writing makes me nervous.

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?Totally. Uhm, bexless, cimorene, sinsense, longtime_lurker and adellyna from bandom. Femmequixotic from HP. Toomuchplor from Inception. Dsudis from Generation Kill. Obstinatrix and saltandbyrne from Supernatural. Wordplay from Glee. Gyzym from like, every fandom ever. Ramonaspeaks, snsk, dizzy and cosmogeny from the phandom. I’m certain I’m missing folks.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?Mpreg, soul bonds (esp if there’s telepathy), job AUs that aren’t coffee shop AUs, a/b/o that somehow deviates from the way people write a/b/o or a/b/o with deep biological world building. Fics that really dig into sexuality as an important aspect to a characters personality rather than just a point of progression of a relationship.

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?🙃 punk AUs because literally no one writes punks accurately (no one’s going to a sorority noise show wearing spikes, y’all). I do not understand what the fuck “pastel” means (its literally not a thing. how do you build a personality or narrative around someone liking to wear light colors???), plantboy/spaceboy what. what is that? what does that mean? Any kinkfic written without even the slightest bit of negotiation (or even exposition that confirms that negotiation happened). Fics that feature abuse, sexual assault, mental health issues, physical health issues I always take really hesitantly ‘cause not a lot of people handle them with care.

oh my god I fucking hate Hogwarts AUs? I hate them so passionately and its for no reason at all. HP is my forever fandom, so it makes even less sense.

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.gyzym (literally so many fandoms but I know her best from inception) – gyzym just has such a distinctive writing voice. i’ve read countless fics from her in fandoms that i have no real attachcement to, just because its such a joy reading her stuff. She’s got a real mastery over balancing plot, character and voice that I envy. Fic rec: between my reflex & my resolve (but really the whole domestic ‘verse)

dsudis (I know Dira primarily from Generation Kill and writing the only Marvel fic I read) – fuck, dsudis is just so good. So much of my fave fic of theirs, Don’t You Shake Alone, happens in one characters head and I’m just locked in from the first few words. I’m just so impressed with the ways they take the trappings of the original work (GenKill is so good and so hard to watch) and turns it into this completely new thing that just makes sense, and feels so grounded in the real world. And they’re doing a similar thing with their Sam/Bucky/Steve series that I just adore. Fic rec: Don’t You Shake Alone + codas

snsk (phandom) – Nad, Naaaaad, I want Nad to come back from wherever they’ve gone so I can befriend them and also gush about their fic to their face. Ok, not to make it all about porn but sometimes (especially before the kinkmeme) writing porn in the fandom felt…shameful? Like the fandom doesn’t respond well to smut (I know, I know you might be into it but y’all i’ve got consistent percentages to back it up) and there’s so little porn just for the sake of good porn and there’s just something really gleeful and light about danandphilKINKS that felt familiar and like yes this is what fandom should feel like. And of course Letters in Bold just makes me want to scream its so good and deep and loving. Fic rec: not your fault that they hover

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?The problem with this question is all of my answers are all fics that are way above my skill level, so, pass.

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?I like specific, short prompts. When a prompt is specific and long its just like, well why don’t you write this yourself?

X: A character you enjoy making suffer & Y: A character you want to protectA plot calls for what a plot calls for. I don’t have any particular feelings about who experiences either.

Z: Major character death–do you ever write/read it? Is there a character whose death you can’t tolerate?Fuckity fuck no. I don’t fuck with major character death. I’m so strongly affected by it, there are fics in this phandom that I haven’t read, that I don’t find particularly good, but just seeing the title makes me tear up.

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maybesunny · 8 years ago

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Do all the questions because I love u and love learning about u

You’re a fucker.

1. Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? - Spotify lmao is there any argument2. Is your room messy or clean? - Considering the standards? Pretty damn clean3. What color are your eyes? - Blue-green4. Do you like your name? why? - Yeah, I think it's unique and people seem to like it5. What is your relationship status? - Taken6. Describe your personality in 3 words or less - Uh... Funny, quirky, caring? That's so fucking generic7. What color hair do you have? - Brown (but my hairdresser says it's burnt blond ;) )8. What kind of car do you drive? color? - This is assuming I have ever driven a day in my life9. Where do you shop? - Wh... What? What does that even mean you need multiple shops to buy things10. How would you describe your style? - Hot as hell boy11. Favorite social media account - Some of these questions are god awful12. What size bed do you have? - Double I think13. Any siblings? - 1 Brother14. If you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? - I used to say the UK but fuck that now. I have no idea honestly.15. Favorite snapchat filter? - There was this circular glasses one that was around for ages that I loved16. Favorite makeup brand(s) - I wish I had some. I need someone to teach me eyeliner...17. How many times a week do you shower? - Every day wtf who doesn't do that gross18. Favorite tv show? - lmao19. Shoe size? - Fuck if I know dude20. How tall are you? - I should probably know this one but I don't. Tallish?21. Sandals or sneakers? - Sneakers wtf 22. Do you go to the gym? - No comment23. Describe your dream date - Literally just a warm little night at home with movies and shit fuck going anywhere24. How much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? - Like $525. What color socks are you wearing? - Black26. How many pillows do you sleep with? - Two big, two small27. Do you have a job? what do you do? - Ahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahha28. How many friends do you have? - I really don't know who I classify as a friend or not so a lot29. Whats the worst thing you have ever done? - No30. Whats your favorite candle scent? - Dude I wish I knew THAT too I need to buy more candles31. 3 favorite boy names - Anything soft sounding32. 3 favorite girl names - Honestly anything to do with gems or flowers is great33. Favorite actor? - I really can't pick I love a lot of people34. Favorite actress? - Ditto35. Who is your celebrity crush? - I literally had no idea people still had these36. Favorite movie? - Uuugggh fuck don't make me pick. Silence of the Lambs, Pulp Fiction, Life of Pi, there are so many I adore37. Do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? - I do not read a lot but I also have many favourite books that I HAVE read (That I can't remember right now)38. Money or brains? - Why not both39. Do you have a nickname? what is it? - Jet 40. How many times have you been to the hospital? - Like 341. Top 10 favorite songs - I TOLD YOU I CAN'T PICK JUST CHOOSE LIKE ALL OF GORILLAZ AND PANIC AT THE DISCO AND AAAAAA42. Do you take any medications daily? - I used to for athsma, but not anymore.43. What is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) - Soft boy44. What is your biggest fear? - Being hated by others45. How many kids do you want? - I don't really want kids but if I did have them I'd want two46. Whats your go to hair style? - Shoulder length hair let down?? I guess? That's what i've done since forever so47. What type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) - Normal sized I guess? It's nothing special48. Who is your role model? - I was also not aware people still had these49. What was the last compliment you received? - I honestly can't remember50. What was the last text you sent? - Actual text? "I'd listen to it". Any message? "(STOP THAT I SWEAR 2 GOD)"51. How old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? - Pretty young, I'd say about 552. What is your dream car? - This is implying I care53. Opinion on smoking? - Listen, if you smoke, I won't berrate you for it. But I've lost someone to smoking before and I seriously reccommend against it as much as I can. 54. Do you go to college? - I'm aiming to.55. What is your dream job? - Game design56. Would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? - Suburbs thanks57. Do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? - What58. Do you have freckles? - Nope, wish I did.59. Do you smile for pictures? - Of course I do binch60. How many pictures do you have on your phone? - Not many cos my phone has tiny space61. Have you ever peed in the woods? - Yes???? Weird question please leave my household62. Do you still watch cartoons? - WE, ARE THE CRYSTAL GEMS63. Do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? - Do Wendy's even exist in Australia?64. Favorite dipping sauce? - Tomato binch65. What do you wear to bed? - Whatever jumper I was wearing that day and trackies66. Have you ever won a spelling bee? - I have never even heard of one being held here67. What are your hobbies? - Drawing, games, level design69. Do you play an instrument? - I used to play piano70. What was the last concert you saw? - PJ Harvey (Also the only concert I've ever seen)71. Tea or coffee? - I've never had much of either.72. Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? - I hate Starbucks and I'm allergic to donuts73. Do you want to get married? - Yeah, eventually74. What is your crush’s first and last initial? - I’m in a relationship pls guess75. Are you going to change your last name when you get married? - Maybe, actually.76. What color looks best on you? - Fuck if I know77. Do you miss anyone right now? - Yes.79. Do you believe in ghosts? - Not... Really?80. What is your biggest pet peeve? - Some of these fuckin questions81. Last person you called`- Mum, probably.82. Favorite ice cream flavor? - Chocolate, I'm basic and I love it.83. Regular oreos or golden oreos? - WHAT THE FUCK IS A GOLDEN OREO84. Chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? - Rainbow lmao i'm gay85. What shirt are you wearing? - A black shirt that says some dumbass shit like "Question Everything"86. What is your phone background? - Gorillaz87. Are you outgoing or shy? - A little bit of both.88. Do you like it when people play with your hair? - YES PLEASE DO89. Do you like your neighbors? - FUCK NO DUDE MY NEIGHBOR SUED US OVER A FUCKING TINY PIECE OF LAND THAT SHE RUINED90. Do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? - At night when i shower WHICH IS EVERY NIGHT 91. Have you ever been high? - Fuck off lol92. Have you ever been drunk? - YES now that's something I can get behind93. Last thing you ate? - Mild salami sticks lmao94. Favorite lyrics right now - "She's My Collar" is stuck in my head right now and I adore the lines "I'm yellow he was blue, It's nothing that he could hide"95. Summer or winter? - Summer fuck off cold weather bullshit96. Day or night? - Day, I guess.97. Dark, milk, or white chocolate? - ALL OF THE ABOVE98. Favorite month? - If you have a favourite month then u are extra as fuk99. What is your zodiac sign - Leo (Was it obvious?)100. Who was the last person you cried in front of? - My history class lmaooooo

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sobdasha · 5 years ago

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hellooo, you have written some of the most thoughtful & insightful meta for fruits basket & i would love to hear your thoughts on a couple of things that always frustrates me towards the end of the manga: 1. Yuki beating Kyou up as a way to knock sense into him re Tohru. I have never been a fan of the idea that physically beating someone is a good way to get them to learn a lesson. But fandom by & large seems ok with it and i wonder what i am failing to understand re necessity of violence (1)

Shortanswer: no, you’re absolutely right, the violence in that sceneis completely unnecessary.

Longanswer: let’s listen to me ramble about violence in fiction andabout why Takaya might have chosen the choices she did!

Alright,so we’ll start with violence in Fruits Basket.

Theviolence portrayed in Fruits Basket exists on a sort ofcontinuum. We have, on one end, “serious violence”–thatis, violence that leaves a lasting impact and has actual consequencesbecause it is being treated seriously. Akito’s violence is portrayedas serious violence: people who get hurt stay visibly hurt foras long as it would take them to actually heal, both the aggressorand the victim have fallout from the action, and the violent act andits consequences help drive the plot. Another example would be thegang violence with Arisa and Kyouko, or Tohru’s injury during theTrue Form arc.

Onthe other end of the spectrum is “comic violence”–that is,violence that is intended to be “funny” (regardlessof whether or not the audience actually finds it to be so) and sodoesn’t have lasting consequences and isn’t taken seriously. Kagura’sviolence to Kyou is “comic violence”: Kyou is portrayed inthe moment with overexaggerated injuries like bruises, lumps, missingteeth, blood, etc; 5 seconds later he no longer looks roughed up andis perfectly fine. Yuki’s violence to Kyou also falls toward this endof the spectrum: Yuki’s basically trying to murder Kyou, regularlythrowing him through walls etc, and while Kyou’s bruises sometimesmight last a little longer than those from Kagura he still isn’t everrealistically hurt from Yuki’s violence. Plus, Kyou getting beaten upgenerally becomes a backdrop to a joke, such as Shigure’s repeated“but my houuuuuse!” and Haru deadpan asking if he can orderchicken nuggets while Yuki rampages on Kyou upstairs. And for what itcontributes to the plot, all of this could be achieved withoutphysical violence–if we took it out, Kagura would still not respectKyou’s personal space and desires and their relationship would stillbe unhealthy, and Yuki would still constantly attack Kyou withinsults meant to wound.

Sowhy the choice to include comic violence? This is a thing we can onlyguess about, not being Takaya ourselves. It’s probably partially aproduct of its time–when I was small, around this time, LooneyTunes was still a Thing and also a huge influence on othercartoons. I mean, when I think of the word “toon,” “comicviolence” is literally one of the defining characteristics. Itwas trendy and perfectly acceptable. Culture and media is changing,but it’s a slow change, and I’m still surprised to think of a showlike Steven Universe that starts out with the expected “yayfighting monsters!” but chose to push instead to “let’sactively not fight and use our words and feelings instead!” Orthe game Undertale,which was a traumatic experience because every video game I’ve everknown is predicated on Acceptable Condoned Violence, anything youencounter in a battle you are supposed to “kill”, and howwas I supposed to know, because the game didn’t tell me up front,that I could and was supposed to just make friends with peopleinstead of murdering them all.

Bythe time of Fruits Basket, it was generally figured out thatguys beating up girls was Not Acceptable and Not Funny. “I can’thit a girl!”, etc. However, we’re still struggling with the ideathat girls being violent towards guys is, in fact, Not Acceptable andNot Funny. And the idea that guys being violent towards guys is, infact, Not Boys Being Boys but instead Toxic Masculinity HurtingEveryone. More on this in a bit, probably!

Inaddition, maybe Takaya herself liked that sort of slapstick toonhumor of “comic violence”? Though if so, she’s presumablychanged her mind since then. I haven’t really read her other work–Idon’t know how much “comic violence” might be present inthose–but it’s completely absent in Fruits Basket Another.True, there’s less of a “logical” reason to include it,since the next generation of Souma kids are well-adjusted rather thancoming from abusive backgrounds. But “comic violence” isabsent to an even greater degree than that. Unless there’s somethingin volume 3 I haven’t seen, there’s no single instance of“comic violence” in FBA. Logic should at least allowMutsuki and Hajime to playfully roughhouse with each other, hittingeach other occasionally without much force or any intent to hurt, butno. That’s not a thing; all of their friendly teasing is words-only.There’s not even a callback to Kyou’s affectionate raps to the backof the head. Actually, the only repeated physical joke is Soragreeting her relatives with flying hugs, which even Hajime doesn’tbegrudge.

(AndI think the complete and utter lack of “comic violence” inFBA, and the fact that I didn’t even notice it until I askedmyself about it while pondering this ask, is further proof of thenon-necessity of the same in the original FB.)

Nowto shift to the issue of fandom by and large seeming okay with the“comic violence” of Fruits Basket. This treads a lotof the same ground I just covered, now that I try to write it up. Forme, it’s fairly easy to give the “comic violence” a passbecause I don’t have a history with violence, so it isn’t personal tome, there aren’t any other particular reasons that it upsets me here(though sometimes, in other media, for various reasons instances of“comic violence” do upset me). I grew up with mediathat told me the narrative that “comic violence” is A-Okaybecause “it’s meant to be funny” and “we only intendedto make you laugh”, “see no one was really hurt.” Isee Kagura hit Kyou, or Yuki hit Kyou, and my brain automaticallymakes the connection before I stop to think: oh, I know what this is,I’ve seen this sort of thing before, it’s intended to be funny, soit’s fine. Later, when I think back on it, then I’m more likely tocritique it and wonder if it really was a necessary choice.

Ithink the first time Fruits Basket came around, I saw whatfelt to me a fairly even balance between people who accepted Kagura’sviolence against Kyou as “comic violence” (because girlshitting guys is non-threatening and funny! It’s everywhere so it’sprobably true!) and people who didn’t find Kagura’s violence againstKyou to be funny (girls hitting guys is not great because no abuseshould be condoned, and also it perpetuates the harmful stereotypethat no properly ~masculine~ guy can actually be hurt by girls who weall know are weak). I don’t really recall anyone picking up on Yukibeing problematic at all, though maybe that was just me. Because tobe honest, that flew under my own radar.

Thistime around, I feel like the vast majority of fandom has realizedthat Kagura’s portrayal is not, in fact, funny, that “comicviolence” is not in fact comic, and unfortunately she’sfrequently getting tossed out with the bathwater here. But now all ofa sudden I feel like I see more and more people emerging who share myown fairly-recent opinion that Yuki’s violence towards Kyou is theexact same thing and just as bad.

Ireally think Kagura and Yuki are on the same level. But what makesthe way we perceive them different is that Kagura is wrappedup in “girls hitting guys”, which we’re getting much betterat realizing is problematic, and Yuki is wrapped up in “boyswill be boys”, which is still working its way out.

(Tangent,I find it interesting that Kagura has a moment of serious violencethat’s basically a boys-will-be-boys moment? When she slaps Tohru to,ah, knock some sense into her about her feelings for Kyou… Thewhole scene intrigues me because it’s wrapped up in Kagura wearingthe least feminine outfit we’ve ever seen her in–I mean, I guess hertop certainly not masculine, but this outfit always gives me a “she’sdressed like a tomboy!” vibe–when she’s usually all aboutdressing and acting as cute and little-girl-ish as possible. And thenKagura talks about reaching a mutual understanding with their fists,very much a shonen hallmark, and how it’s easier for guys. It makesme wonder if Kagura has a bit of a difficult relationship with herown gender–or at least, the gender stereotypes–and that’s why shevalues coming off as feminine and cutesy. Because she’d rather justpunch people instead of talk about her feelings, and she won’t everbe loved if she acts like that. So she’s gotta offset herstereotypically masculine traits. Maybe! Also interesting, as this isserious violence and thus has consequences–instead of it gettinglaughed off as a joke, Kagura has to actually apologize for hittingTohru. She and Tohru stubbornly don’t apologize though; what’sinteresting is, and I’ve seen other people mention this, that the oneKagura apologizes to is Rin. Because Rin has a history with violenceand abuse, and hitting Tohru [which wasn’t okay in the first place]viscerally upset Rin, and Kagura knows that and knows that her actionwas very wrong in regards to Rin too. So while Kagura doesn’t take itback in regards to Tohru, she’s sincerely apologetic to Rin.)

Anyway,when Yuki and Kyou are violent, or Haru and Kyou, or Yuki and Manabe,etc…it’s “boys will be boys.” Boys will fight! Boys willhurt each other! Boys will do terrible dumb things because that’swhat boys do lol! There can’t be anything wrong with it becausethat’s just how boys naturally are, right? You don’t expect a boy toexercise some self-control, right?

ForYuki and Kyou, it’s exaggerated to the point of “comicviolence”. Also, for Yuki and Kyou, it’s the primary way theycommunicate with each other.

This,I believe, is the main reason that Yuki literally physically beatssense into Kyou in that scene. The violence is unnecessary, yes, asall the “comic violence” up until now has been unnecessary.But it has been part of the narrative–Yuki and Kyou beat eachother bloody every time they’re in the same room! Yuki and Kyou tryto find a way to scrap every day! Yuki and Kyou are always breakingthe house! Wow Yuki and Kyou have stopped breaking the house everyday, I’d be worried but I’m pretty sure this is a good sign???–so itdoes follow logically that, in this climactic and emotionalconfrontation, Yuki resorts to the way he’s always communicated withKyou.

Bybeating the shit out of him.

Takayacould certainly have chosen to leave the violence out. Yuki couldhave condescended at Kyou, and screamed at Kyou, and cried at Kyou,and not aimed a single physical attack at Kyou, and I have absolutelyzero doubt that the scene would have been exactly as effective. Yukiexpressed his emotions perfectly well with his words; his fists wereunnecessary. If we’d skipped the words entirely, and Yuki justpunched away at Kyou boys-will-be-boys style,my-fists-will-express-all-my-emotions, the scene would lose so muchof its impact.

Tl;dr- you aren’t failing to understand anything. In fact, you’vegrasped the situation perfectly. But this is part of a pervasivecultural and media trend, complicating the YMMV that already exists,so it’s slipped under some people’s radars even as it frustratesothers.

Itgenerally flies under my personal radar, and I myself laugh everytime I get to that scene, but it’s kind of a laugh of, like, thesheer over-the-top extra of Yuki trying to murder Kyou over a grudgeYuki’s been carrying ever since they were small and Yuki said heliked Kyou’s hair and Kyou told him to go die like ffs Yukiget over it wtf happened to your characterdevelopment??? YUKI CHILL.

(alsoI feel like I had more tangents than this, but maybe in the monthI’ve been sitting on this mulling it over I forgot some of them??)

#sobdasha fic adjacent #fruits basket #Anonymous #thank you for the ask!#i enjoyed pondering this #i enjoyed reading it and thinking for a second and going #oh snap they're right tho!

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