#i should make a playlist maybe that’ll be easier

[tvonq]

tag game! share your top five spotify/apple/youtube/etc artists and songs!

tagged by @naein and @jentlemahae !! 💖 I didn’t think my replay would look like that tbh..I knew nct dream would be in my top but..sorry for being boring ig 😔

tagging @sunwatcher @onmywayv @aashiqvi @cultct @nctjui@127leilas but u dont have to ofc :)

[nightinggail-writes]

you have to understand (that the one i killed is me)

Becoming Guardian of the Miraculous has caused nothing but anxiety and stress for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Between her duties as Guardian, her job as Ladybug, and her civilian life, she's struggling to push through the stress. To Marinette, there's only one solution to her plight; she has to give up one of the three sides of her life.

Tags: angst heavy, depression, un-beta'd

word count: 1,270

2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Read on AO3

Spotify Playlist

Chapter 1: Wide Awake

Thunder rumbling

Castles crumbling

I am trying to hold on

God knows that I tried

Seeing the bright side

I’m not blind anymore

I’m wide awake

- Wide Awake by Katy Perry -

Marinette numbly stared down at the box in her hands. It had been three weeks since the battle against Miracle Queen. Three weeks since Master Fu transferred the guardianship of the Miraculous over to her, erasing his memories in the process; and her life has been nothing but miserable ever since.

As she stared down at the box that was slowly leading her to her demise, all she could think was how she couldn’t hold this much responsibility. Her eyes, which should have been bright with the joyful naivety of youth, were dim and tired, making her look as if she had been alive for far longer than the fifteen years she’s been on this earth. Dark circles and bags lay beneath those sky-blue eyes, the true evidence of her lack of sleep. She had far too many responsibilities, and they were starting to make an impact on her health, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Marinette recalled the events of earlier today. How Alya, Alix, Juleka, Mylene, and Rose all got akumatised because of her, how in the end she gave them a shitty lie instead of the truth that she can never tell them, how even when Alya stayed behind to talk to her, she still didn’t say anything. Maybe in another universe, she told Alya that she was Ladybug, maybe she even told them all, or she told Chat Noir, as risky as that would be, but in this one, she was still all alone.

“Marinette?” Tikki called out, the kwami’s eyes full of concern for her holder, “You could have told Alya, it wouldn’t–”

“It would put her in danger, Tikki,” Marinette muttered. “I can’t tell anyone, not even Chat Noir. That would just put him in danger too. I’m alone in this, I’ve accepted that and so should you.”

Marinette racked her brain for anything she could do to make this whole situation easier for herself, but every idea she had wouldn’t work. Every idea ended with complete isolation from everyone, abandoning all her friends and eventually her family too, just to continue to fight Hawkmoth for possibly the rest of her life, and never seeing them again. The other options included quitting being Ladybug for good, but that wouldn’t work either. For one, she doesn’t want to give Tikki up, or Chat Noir for that matter, and two she would have to go out and find a replacement and that would take who knows how long, and there's no guarantee that this new Ladybug would even be able to keep up with Chat Noir or handle the Akumas. Every option she thought of was one she didn't enjoy the outcome of.

A plan, she thought. I just need one plan, that’ll ensure I can beat Hawkmoth sooner rather than later, and won’t have to give up my civilian life forever for.

“Marinette, you don’t have to give up your civilian life or give up being Ladybug. You can do both,” Tikki pleaded. “I believe in you, you can handle both.”

And just then, an idea popped into Marinette’s head. It was insane and would probably require a lot of planning and wouldn’t be able to be put into action until her parents would be out of the city for a catering event for a few days. She would have two weeks to prepare for the most insane idea that she’s ever thought of.

“I don’t quite like the look on Marinette’s face right now…” Ziggy whispered to the other Kwami’s, “She has this crazed look in her eyes.”

“I’m not crazy, Ziggy,” Marinette stood up from her chaise, her tired, baggy eyes wild as she gestured to herself, “I’m a genius. I don’t have to give up my civilian life permanently!”

“See, Marinette! I told you that you didn't have to give up your civilian life! You just need to—”

“Fake my own kidnapping! There are no flaws in that!” Marinette enthused. “I’ll just go missing for a few weeks and dedicate that time to hunting down Hawkmoth and my duties as Ladybug won’t be as taxing! It’s genius!”

The Kwami’s looked at each other, and then looked back at Marinette. She had her arms crossed with one hand on her chin, occasionally lifting it to gesture at nothing as she mumbled to herself, pacing back and forth across her room. Her hair was messy from running her fingers through it and her eyes, formerly droopy and tired from stress, were now wide and wild thinking through the details of her plan.

The group of god-like creatures huddled together and nudged Sass forward to say something to their Guardian that may break her away from her plan. “Ah, Marinette, while that idea isss…intriguing, we don’t believe that it’sss the wisessst plan. Where would you go while being Ladybug? What would you do to find Hawkmoth? And if you did happen to find him and recover the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculousss, how would you go about un-kidnapping yourssself?”

Marinette stopped pacing and for a moment the Kwami’s thought that Sass had gotten through to Marinette. Until she opened her mouth, that is.

“Well, I would find an abandoned building to stay in, of course. As for finding Hawkmoth, that’s a plan that would take longer than a few minutes to think of, and figuring out what would happen after I recover the Miraculous is something for future Marinette to figure out.”

“Marinette,” Orikko spoke. “What about your friends? You’re parents? You’ll be leaving them, and they won’t even know what actually happened to you. Doesn’t that make you sad?”

Marinette’s arms went limp, as if hugging herself, her eyes softening and dropping in sadness, eyebrows scrunching, as a frown formed on her face. She looked as if the life had been sucked out of her. “You think I won’t be sad? Of course I’ll be sad. I don’t—I don’t actually want to leave my life behind, but I don’t have a choice. I’ve never had a choice when it comes to the Miraculous. I have to do what’s best for the greater good, and if giving up my life is what it takes, then that’s what I’ll do. No amount of begging is going to convince me to do otherwise. I’m sorry.”

The Kwami’s looked down after hearing Marinette. It hadn’t occurred to them that Marinette had felt this way about the Miraculous, or that she didn’t actually want to leave her friends and family behind and be the Guardian and Ladybug for the time being. The thought of this brought some of the Kwami’s to tears.

“Oh, Marinette,” Mullo cried. “We’re sorry! We didn’t think about how you felt about this. Well, we knew of course because we were there, but we didn’t know that’s exactly how you felt!”

The other Kwami’s shouted their agreement with what Mullo said, and flew over to hug Marinette.

Marinette closed her teary eyes and pet the Kwami’s as they nuzzled close to her, “I love each and every one of you.” she said, “Never think otherwise.”

“We love you too, Marinette!” Daizzi exclaimed.

“Everything will be okay, Marinette.” Wayzz declared, “All will go well.”

“Of course everything's gonna work out. I have all of you to help me.” Marinette replied. But even as the words left her mouth, she was still consumed by the everlasting blanket of loneliness that, in two weeks time, would be all she had.

[tryingmybestpls]

Two Slow Dancers

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve and the Reader have had feelings for each other for years now. The night before everything goes to shit, they decide to act on them.

Word Count: 1.6k

Rating: R

Warnings: Angst, longing, the use of an amazing Mitski song, mentions of a graphic death, sadness, I’m so sorry

Her fingers danced on top of the various bottles of liquor. She hums softly to herself before grabbing the bottle of Asgardian mead she had taken from Thor earlier. The hero stood on her tippy toes in order to get a glass off of one of the higher shelves. Her hand reached for a second one when she heard someone walk into the room.

"Want a drink, Steve?" Y/N asks, not needing to turn around to know that he was there. The Captain chuckles, walking further into the room. She doesn't wait for him to answer as her hand picks up two glasses while the other holds the neck of the glass bottle. She turned on her heel, placing the glasses on the counter just as he sits down on one of the bar stools. He's dressed down, wearing a smile white t-shirt that's way too tight for his body and a pair of sweatpants. His hair is wet, freshly washed. The man's ready for bed yet he still is sitting across from her, as happy as a clam.

"I can never say no to you, Y/L/N." Steve replies, a smile on his face. A smile of her own appears on her face as she opens the bottle, immediately pouring them both a glass. How many times before a mission had they done this? Just the two of them sharing a drink while everyone else sleep. Dozens? Hell, maybe even a hundred. She hand him his glass, which he quickly takes, his fingers brushing against hers.

"Good, because drinking alone is depressing." Y/N grins at him, tapping her glass against his, ignoring the way her heart seemed to skip a beat, her fingertips burning from having touched his. Steve's grinning from ear to ear now as he holds his glass in his hand, shaking his head.

"Should we cheers to something? I feel like we should." He questions, looking at her. his eyes are twinkling in the low light, reminding her of the lake outside. Y/N bites her lip, thinking for a moment before she raises her glass in the air.

"To time travel." She announces, grinning at him. Steve rolls his eyes as he lifts his glass, tapping it against hers. It's tradition amongst friends. Nothing else.

"To time travel." Steve repeats before they both lift the glasses to their mouths, taking a long drink. It takes like honey as it goes down her throat, slightly easing the way her stomach has been twisting and turning all day. Its the only thing that'll get both of them drunk and with what is going to happen tomorrow-it's much needed. Y/N pulls the glass away from lips, trying to force herself to unwind.

"You wanna sit? Just for a bit?" She motions towards the living area. Steve follows her line of sight before nodding. She walks around the island, moving past him to go sit in one of the big love seats, pulling her knees into her chest. He sits down on the seat beside hers, looking far more relaxed than she does.

"Penny for you thoughts?" Steve asks, looking over at her. Y/N looks down at her glass, her thumb wiping away some of the spilled drink as she stays silent for a moment.

"I have a bad feeling about tomorrow, Steve." She murmurs to him, raising her glass to her lips. Y/N hopes that the alcohol will continue to calm her nerves, that it'll just take the edge off.

"You always have a bad feeling. We-We're going to be okay." He responds, offering her a smile that's as sweet as candy.  Y/N swallows her drink and rolls her eyes.

"Have I ever told you how annoying your optimism is? Because it is." She teases, acting annoyed even though she loves his optimism. It balances out her pessimism, it reminds her that not everything is all doom and gloom.

"And here I was thinking that my optimism is exactly why you keep me around." Steve jokes right back, a shit-eating grin on his face. Y/N scoffs, trying to ignore the way blood rushed to her cheeks and the tip of her ears.

"You're such a dork." Y/N says, trying to ignore the way that he was making her feel, even as his chuckle makes a million butterflies fly around her stomach. She looks down at her glass, unable to stop herself from smiling. The weight on her shoulders had been lifted ever so slightly. That was just the effect Steve had on her.

They both have had feelings for each other for years now, although neither knew that it was mutual. For the others, it had just been this unspoken thing. Y/N and Steve really, really liked each other but they are both too chicken shit to do anything about it. It didn't matter that they had spent three years apart and it didn't matter that over the past five years they hadn't seen each other as much as they would've liked. Those feelings were still there and they had never left.

It was like something in the air had shifted.

Maybe Y/N's worries had settled into Steve or maybe he finally realized the gravity of the whole situation. Maybe the Star Spangled Man with a Plan was tired of waiting, tired of hoping the right time and right place would come to him, tired of wondering when he was going to work up the courage to say something. Steve didn't know how tomorrow was going to play out and because of that he finally felt that courage building up, felt his heart starting to beat faster in his chest.

"Dance with me." Steve says as he suddenly stands, the drink in his glass sloshing the sides, almost spilling. Her eyebrows knitting together as she looks up at him, a bit confused.

"I'm sorry-what?" Y/N questions as he quickly sets his drink aside and holds his hand out to her, his brows knitting together.

"Y/N, I've been waiting for the right partner and I just want to have a dance with you. I-We've waited too long for this and I can't wait anymore. So will you dance with me?" The Captain asks, his hand still outstretched towards her. Her bottom lip trembles, her eyes filling with tears as she starts to nod, feeling her heart swell in her chest. Y/N takes his hand and stands, putting her drink down.

"FRIDAY, play something slow and sweet from one of my playlists." She says softly, smiling up at Steve. He carefully (and awkwardly) wraps one hand around her waist, the other moving to hold her hand in his. Y/N's hand moves to rest on his chest, carefully, as if she moves too fast of isn't delicate enough this all might end.

"Of course, Miss Y/L/N." FRIDAY replies, a song immediately starting. It'a slow and it's sad, but there is just a tinge of sweetness to it.

"Does it smell like a school gymnasium in here? It's funny how they're all the same It's funny how you always remember And we've both done it all a hundred times before It's funny how I still forgot"

The two moved slowly side to side, their hands clutched together. They could both feel a sinking feeling in their stomachs as they moved, that initial happiness being replaced by anxiousness. Both heroes were terrified of tomorrow, of losing the other.

"It would be a hundred times easier If we were young again But as it is And it is We're just two slow dancers, last ones out We're two slow dancers, last ones out"a

Neither could voice those feelings or the feelings they have both had for each for years now. Y/N lets the tears roll down her cheeks as Steve slowly, cautiously leaned forward and placed his lips against the top of her forehead as he brings their hands close to their bodies.

"And the ground has been slowly pulling us back down You see it on both our skin We get a few years and then it wants us back"

Tomorrow they'd be sent on their separate journeys. Tomorrow they would have to worry about the other getting hurt. Tomorrow they would have the weight of the universe on their shoulders. But tonight they were right here, holding one another.

It would be a hundred times easier If we were young again But as it is And it is

Tomorrow, Steve would watch as she met her sudden and swift end, taking one of The Mad Titan's blades through her abdomen. He'd would run towards her, crying out her name as she stumbled and fell to the ground. By the time he'd get there, by the time he pulled her into his arms,  she'd be bleeding out. Y/N will be unable to talk, sputtering and gasping for air, her blood covering her teeth and lips as the battle continued all around then. He'll start crying, practically sobbing as he told her over and over that he loved her and that she couldn't leave him, not yet. Her blood would get all over his hands and his suit and he would hold her as she struggled to take her final breath.

But tonight, they held each other and swayed from side to side. Steve rested his cheek against her forehead, both of them letting their eyes flutter shut. Tonight, all that mattered was that they were together and it seemed like things were looking up for them.

Tonight, they danced.

To think that we could stay the same To think that we could stay the same To think that we could stay the same But we're two slow dancers, last ones out We're two slow dancers, last ones out Two slow dancers, last ones out

[prettylittlebutterflie]

It All Started With A Break

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31840603

Okay, so I have fallen down the rabbit hole known as MariBat and I just can't stop all the ideas I have because of this and decided that enough is enough and I am doing it.

This is my very first fanfic - or any fic actually - but I hope you guys like it and be WARNED that some of you may find some part of this story that's similar with another and that may've been because I really liked the idea when I read it and wanna have a kinda similar thing here and the same goes with some trope of this fanfic in the future, but I'll do my best to keep it unique. I am also new to the DCU, but I'm doing research and planning to binge watch stuff and if you could please help this poor soul find a way to navigate and somehow get an idea on how that universe work (especially abt the batfam), I'll be forever grateful to thy savior.

This fic is canon until S4 Ep 1&2 (Truth & Lie) of MLU and as for the rest, I'll let you guys know.

So yeah, that's all. Enjoy and hope you guys like it. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

P.S. Sorry I kinda ranted, this is my first time actually posting smth so bear with me people

SYNOPSIS

It’s been four years ever since Hawkmoth, who now goes by the name Shadow Moth, began his reign of terror in Paris. Four years worth of akumas that have brought pain and suffering. Four years of no rest in controlling their emotions, afraid of what may come if they were controlled.

After four long years, the Miraculous Team can finally see a ray of light. Everything they have sacrificed for that one goal they all share is finally going to be repaid… Not.

Locating Hawkmoth was easier said than done, and the frustration is finally getting to them. With that, it was decided that they need a break from their hero lives — ok, maybe not. After all, Shadow Moth is proving himself to be a workaholic (like dude, don’t you have anything better to do than destroy everyone’s schedule?) — but anyways, it was clear. THEY. NEED. A. BREAK. Away from Paris. Away from Hawkmoth. Away from the frickin akumas.

So yeah, that’s how it was decided (more like forced) that they are going to America to relax, let loose, and have some fun. After all, who knows, maybe a break is all they need to get things to start getting better — or worse.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

PROLOGUE

“Alright. So, we are going to take a break—”

“For two months.”

“For two months. And because it’s supposed to be a break, that means—”

“No thinking of anything Moth related.”

“No thinking of anything Moth rela— Moth related?”

“You know, Hawkmoth, Red Moth, Shadow Moth, those Moths.”

“Right. Moths. Aside from Moths, it also means—’

“No thinking of akumas.”

“No thinking of akumas. For this entire break, we’re not going to think about—”

“Anything Miraculous related.”

“Anything Miraculous related. Alya, do you really need to do that every time I’m about to say it?”

“It’s because she knows you. We know you. It’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, how you always promise not to worry about something, especially anything Miraculous related, just to break it the moment anything related to it comes up. So, yes. She needs to say it and repeat it as much as possible for it to go through that head of yours.”

“Guys, I swear, I’m really going to follow through with this plan. I did agree that we need to unwind ourselves since we’re getting way too stressed and that won’t help us focus on our job.”

“Only after we bugged you about it. Get it? Bugged. Pfft—”

“Hey! Puns are my thing. And you shouldn’t be saying it like that. You’re making it ape-solutely obvious and that makes it not punny anymore”

“Dude, do you really have to do that? That’s so not paw-some. Pfft—”

“All puns aside, it is true that we had to convince you, Mari-hime, to agree on taking a break. Although I rarely take a break from fencing, my Mother and I are aware of the importance of having one and may I also remind you that you were the one who taught us that.”

“And that’s why I told you guys to go have one.”

“But you plus the kitty are the ones who need it the most. Remember what future-me said? About you two always leading us and how she— or rather I am the last one called upon? That means you guys are always gonna work while the rest of us may or may not be needed in some fights.”

“There is a 97.6% probability of you two showing up in fights.”

“Because we have to. It’s our responsibility as the one leading our team.”

“M’lady’s right. Besides, there were only the two of us in the beginning and with all the akumas, we just got used to it.”

“But that doesn’t mean you don’t need to rest. The music I’m hearing from both of you is filled with the stress you guys have and it doesn’t sound nice. Maybe you two unwinding will help make it more beautiful and even more powerful than before.”

“Fine. We’re all taking a break—”

“Especially you and Adrien.”

“Especially Adrien and I, for a month. Now, does anyone have any ideas on how we're gonna do that?”

“Ooh! Me, me! I have a competition coming up this summer break so I can’t really go anywhere too far since I have some training to do.”

“I’m sticking with the ape. Gotta keep an eye on him if I don’t want him messing up with the timeline. Plus, it’ll be pretty fun beating him up every time he asks for a challenge.”

“Hey!”

“The same goes for me. Someone has to make sure the correct time is recorded with not a single millisecond of it missed. Kwami knows how many times he messes it up whenever he does the recording himself.”

“Okay. So Kim, Alix, and Max will be staying in Paris. Are you guys sure that you’ll be able to take a break even if you’re in the city?”

“Yeah, we're fine. And I am totally beating you next time, little bunny.”

“Whatever. There’s nothing wrong with dreaming, y’know.”

“Anything else?”

“Oh, I have an internship in America this coming summer. The one at the Daily Planet. I just got the email and I was finally given an invite!”

“Really? Cool! Told you you’ll get it, babe!”

“Yeah! That’s really awesome, Alya! So I’m assuming you'll be accepting that?”

“You got it, girl! I mean, this is the Daily Planet we’re talkin’ about. I’ll learn so much about writing and journalism there, I’ve just got to take it.”

“So Alya’s going to America. Anyone else with plans outside of the country?”

“There will be an upcoming world-class fencing competition this summer and Mother and I have discussed my participation in it. It will be held in the States as well, specifically Gotham, two weeks before the end of the summer break. Maybe you should participate in it as well, Adrien. That way, you’ll have an excuse for your father to leave the country. I’m sure Mother will be happy to convince him as well to let you participate in it. That way, at the very least, I’ll have someone I know who’ll be an actual challenge.”

“Really? That actually sounds great! I’m sure Father would agree if your mother’s the one who suggested it. Thanks Kagami!”

“Okay. Kagami and hopefully Adrien will have a fencing competition in America too.”

“My Dad is having a tour in America right now. He’ll be having the last one at Metropolis during the summer break. He actually wants me to go with him, but I declined. It’ll be great if we all could go there and see it.”

“Dude, that’s so cool! Maybe you’ll even get to perform with your dad on stage. You did make that song with him that reached the record chart’s top. I’ve even made a playlist based on it.”

“Okay then, that makes Alya, Kagami, Adrien, and Luka going to the States. Chloe, do you also have plans to go there this summer? Maman said your mother was thinking of inviting you to be one of the models in an upcoming fashion show there.”

“She did mention something like that, but I wasn’t really paying attention to details once I found out that it’ll be outside of Paris. I’ll discuss it with her again then I can have my much needed vacation in the States.”

“So now that makes five of you going to America. Nino?”

“Well, I don’t really have any plans this summer. Just chill out and relax, y’know, make some playlist, listen to some music.”

“Ooh! How about you come with us, babe? That’ll be so cool and not all of us will be doing something most of the time while we’re there. You can just chill and relax there and maybe you could even study the kind of music they listen to and make a playlist out of it.”

“I would love to go, but I don’t think I really got the money for it. ‘Sides, my parents might not allow me to go out of the country.”

“You’re already 18 and if your parents ever say no, just tell them that you want to really relax, without keeping your emotions in check and have the freedom to let it out. I’m sure they’ll understand and unlike my Father, they actually listen to you.”

“As for the money, I have some savings and if you want I can lend you some-”

“But-”

“Lend. I’m not just giving it to you. You will have to pay me back, alright? And if you try to say no again, I’m going to insist that you don’t pay me anymore.”

“You sure? You're the best! Thanks, Minette.”

“No problem. So now that makes six of them—”

“Seven.”

“What?”

“Seven. We’re including you.”

“Me? But Alya, I already got plans this summer.”

“Plans? What plans?”

“I was planning on working on my commissions this summer an— Guys, can you all stop rolling your eyes on me and no, Chloe. I don’t need you doing it again.”

“Girl! We all agreed that we’re going to take a break this summer. How does doing your commissions sound like a break to you?”

“You all got your own thing to do this summer and mine just happens to be those. Also, the break was for anything Miraculous related. My commissions don't exactly fall under that.”

“Nope. We actually all agreed that for you, commissions should be added to the list of things you get to take a break from.”

“Adrien! I thought you’re supposed to be my partner? So much for the two of us against the world.”

“He is still your partner alright. But also, as someone who truly cares about you, he decided that you really needed a break. And besides girl, this could be your chance!”

“Chance? What chance?”

“Your pen pal! Doesn’t he live in Gotham? You could go and finally meet him. Who knows? Maybe something might happen.”

“Ooh, he’s from there? That’s awesome! You should totally go meet him. Maybe you could even go on a date or two-”

“A date?! Kim, he’s just a frie-”

“You stop right there, Dupain-Cheng! It’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous! All of us already had enough with Adrikins always calling you ‘just a friend’ when it’s pretty obvious how totally untrue that statement was. We don’t need you ending up just like him, thank you very much.”

“But he really is-”

“Yeah right. If he really is just a friend, then why do you guys stay up all night talking to each other? You always immediately check your phone whenever a notif comes up and you smile like a love-sick fool whenever you read his messages for you. And don’t get me started on the way you gush about him non-stop.”

“There is something beautiful in your music whenever you talk or even think about him.”

“Your smiles are much brighter compared to before the two of you got to know each other.”

“Markov and I also have a record of your heartbeat and we have observed your heart beating faster whenever we talk about this certain topic.”

“And it's been more than a year since you two have become pen pals. The two of you are now so close that it’s a wonder why you guys still haven’t video-called each other just because you insist for your first time seeing each other to be in person.”

“I think it’s rather romantic. They’ll look into each other’s eyes for the first time then BAM! They’re finally together. But I still plan on giving him a shovel talk the first chance I get. Can’t have him break my twin’s heart without him knowing I have the god of destruction on my side.”

“What do you mean shovel talk- I mean, what even gives you the idea that he thinks of me that way for you guys to assume that we’ll end up in… in that kind of relationship?”

“He’d be an idiot if he still hasn’t fallen in love with you.”

“Literally almost everyone I know had a crush on you or have you forgotten already that my boyfriend’s one of those people?”

“I know for a fact that that’s true since I’ve already admitted that one of my reasons why I began bullying you back then was because I had a crush on you.”

“I must admit, I think I also had the same feeling towards you at the beginning of our friendship until I really got to know Luka and you helped us get together.”

“Oh! There’s also that. Do you actually know just how many people you’ve helped get together, buginette? Alya’s even written an article about it at the Ladyblog of how you are also known as Paris’s own cupid and how all of the couples you’ve paired ended up living a happy life together.”

“Everyone���s been saying how Ladybug’s the next best person they can go to if they ever want to find love after Andre.”

“And yet every time you try to pair yourself with someone, the magic just doesn’t seem to work.”

“So we all decided that we’ll be Ladybug’s cupid and pair her up with the boy she just can’t seem to get off of her head.”

“Now, you coming or what? I won’t be taking the money you’ll be lending me if you say no. I’m only going with these dudes if you also come or else I’ll just end up getting bored when there’s no one who can go around the city with me.”

“...”

“““...”””

“Fine. You guys win—”

“““YES!”””

“So here’s the final plan for the break. Kim, Alix, and Max will be staying in Paris for Kim’s competition, while the rest of us will be going to America doing our own stuff—”

“With you finally meeting your pen pal.”

“Yes. Alright. I’ll go and meet my pen pal. And during the break, no thinking about anything miraculous related. If ever there’s an akuma, only those who’ll be needed will go. Max will bring us to the akuma’s location and if there is anything going on that we can’t be excused of or if the fight goes longer than expected, Alix will bring us back in time making it look like we just went to the toilets, the usuals. Any questions?”

“““Non.”””

“Good. Operation: Taking a Break is good to go.”

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Yay! Finally got to post it. So comments? What do you guys think and who do you think who is saying what? I know there will be new holders in S4, but I decided I’ll either make them a temp or they still don’t know the other’s identities bc of stuff, so yeah. Still thinking abt it. Adios (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31840603

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep 3: Apdnarg is Really Hard to Spell

 Yo guys, people are getting vaccinated, the sun is parting through the clouds, and I felt so nice that I even stopped listening to quite so many throwback 00′s BTS mashups (and yet I keep clicking on these dissonant catastrophes thinking “this time it’s got to be better. This time they’ll figure it out.” and like, no. Turns out you can’t match Brittany’s Toxic with BTS’ Black Swan. You can’t do that.)

This must be a sign that things are getting better. If anything, it means my personal tastes are improving. I mean I only clicked on like 3 “Dark Academia” Playlists where I could pretend I’m some sort of spooky witch in an abandoned library with a bad music player and basic taste in classical music (like can we ban Satie from Youtube for a little while?). Hell, I might even do a prompt update to this blog!

Yeah, you heard me, I’m actually going to stay ahead of the update schedule for Yugioh Abridged (maybe. I haven’t actually watched cuz of spoilers, I just noticed the thumbnail pop up on Youtube and was like “Damn it, they came out of hiatus??? I got hurry UP.”)

Anyway, speaking of the sky parting.

I’ll have you know my bro said this is actually more like a circumcision and it was one of the worst thing I have ever heard.

We get a chance to take in this lineup of confusing and varied character designs, and Joey. who is...still Joey.

The animators probably had to hold a strike in order for them to put Yugi in the audience, lets be real. There are TOO MANY PEOPLE in this shot and one is wearing a turban where you draw every single wrap. I hope those artists charged by the line.

Tea has a subplot where she’s just very frustrated with everyone she knows. They have been traveling together for like many weeks and got trapped in a foreign country so I get it. But at the same time, it’s kind of hard to picture Tea with female friends.

Because right now you got this 12 year old child, the other duelist who does not care about anything besides cards, and Kaiba’s 3 dragon cards that we’ve all collectively decided are female.

Hell it’s almost like the writers are asking themselves why Tea is here. Maybe they forgot. There’s no more ghosts to bus, no more people to knock out with her ass with random Olympic feats. Tea’s just sidelining.

(read more under the cut)

Mokuba is a itty bit bit taller this season, and so I guess that means he can legally climb on top of the cherry picker in order to give a riveting speech.

Really says a lot about Mokuba that he is so unphased about talking to, I dunno...an entire planet of people. Kind of a shame we never see this courage from Mokuba used for anything other than talking really, really big and giving everyone around him a really hard time.

Mokuba takes a moment to dunk on Yugi Muto, as is Kaiba tradition.

And then introduce the first pair of duelists, which obviously must be between the few people in this tournament that we actually know and care about.

Thankfully, in between last episode and this episode, Yugi has figured out who his own Grandpa is. This is a relief, because Yugi is such a mess, that I was fully convinced it would take over half a season for him to recognize it. I mean how long did it take him to figure out he shares a body with a ghost? Like half a season?

Instead Yugi recovered gracefully from not recognizing his grandpa, but it’s not like he bothered to tell anyone else, so the rest of our cast is just gonna be like “Is he my hairdresser? The guy who delivers my mail? Who is this guy who made absolutely no significant changes to his outfit or voice?”

Like sometimes this show goes full Spongebob silly kid’s show and you never know when to take it seriously or not. They might be sacrificing the entire cast next episode. I really don’t know. But for now their big concern is who is grandpa??? Like an innocent card version of “Are you my Mother?”

Faced with public speaking, Yugi decides to have a melt down.

We have seen him face monsters, we’ve seen him on TV dozens of times, he’s been in multiple competitions...but give a speech? Of course he can’t do that. The kid doesn’t attend enough school to know how to do that. Them’s learning skills.

And that was when a newly assembled wife-jet spliced through the sky like a souped up razer scooter and deposited 1 fully equipped Seto Kaiba in a Buzz Lightyear jetsuit.

THE RECOVERY.

Seto always watching over his Brother, ready to save this awkward party if it kills him (and it really should, that suit is held together by two seat-belts), making sure to get on that platform before Yugi starts going off about how he’s half an Ancient Egyptian. (Ah, life before social media. You could just be hella famous and also half a dead dude and people would just not know. I kinda miss the time before I knew literally everything about everyone.)

Please admire how close those flames are to setting Mokuba’s heavily hairsprayed mane completely alight. It would be an unforgettable spectacle.

These were absolutely just random ass jet packs that Gozaburo Kaiba made to kill hell tons of people, right? Like Seto found it in the family cabin, clutched to the heart of some crispy fried corpse and was like “neat! Mokuba! I found a cool toy!” and just plucked that thing out of that skeleton’s clutches and has been flying around for months?

Like this is Seto Kaiba’s Butter Glider, right?

Seriously what type of vehicle license do you need for one of these things? RIP My ‘Seto only has a scooter license’ headcanon.

Which I’m only even thinking about because I’ve had to try and make an appt with the DMV for days to get a freakin REAL ID. I went to sleep in 2019 and I could fly on a plane. I woke up in 2021 and it’s like “Want one last screw you?” and just...can 2020 please stop screwing me over? It’s March.

Anyway, the Jet is removed soon after, so no, this is not part of his new outfit. He goes right back to his Post-S4-Trauma-Normcore.

After wrestling this competition out of his brother’s hands and confusing everyone in the audience, Roland must have gotten the memo to cut the microphone before Seto got too excited and we were quickly ushered on to the next stage of the tournament.

One sec...the BTS Mashup playlist I just clicked on did a Black Swan X 7 rings mashup and it’s the worst thing my ears have ever heard.

Holy crap. I had to actually turn down my volume. Like...Ariana Grande already has music that has way too many overlapping singing parts on it--and then lets just stick a 52-person boy band on top? That’ll fix it. Yeah. Go ahead.

Wow. Even I had to change the song and you know how much I enjoy pop culture mistakes.

Spot the Mickey but like a million times easier because it’s a Massive Dick Shaped Dragon.

Yep. That’s my grocery shopping outfit. Except maybe not a lab coat and a duel disk. Wish I had a duel disk, that would make social distancing just a hell ton earlier. Just a “Yo, only one person in checkout, please” and then bap them on the head with a propelled discuss/hologram.

Anyway, Grocery shopping/Doctor man dueled the Purple Hair Boy, and considering that Purple Hair got screen time and shook Yugi’s hand once--I think that Doctor man doesn’t stand a freakin chance.

Good. I hate him.

Also, every time he breathes he’s gonna fog up his glasses. I have experience in this area. He can’t read his own cards in the same way I can’t read my phone if I’m in the refrigerated aisle.

So the way this tournament works, is everyone has to sit in the stadium to watch the show. Kinda like showing up to a football stadium just to watch a recorded TV monitor...but then again...that is how it feels to watch a football game at a football stadium when it’s live (at least with the tickets I usually get.)

And as we watch Grandpa waiting for his competitor, we find out that his competitor (Joey) is too busy eating snacks to give him the time of day.

Why do cartoon hot dogs always have lettuce? Is that seriously supposed to be relish? Or is there a place in the world where you put lettuce on your hot dog?

Sorry, bro has just informed of his favorite hot dog order, which is absolutely terrible so I will share it with you: a Five Guys hot dog with ketchup, mustard, pickle relish, onions, mushrooms, pickled peppers, and you guessed it--topped with freakin lettuce.

My own kin. How am I over 30 and just finding out that my baby brother thinks it’s normal to walk into a restaurant with normal god-fearing law-abiding people and order lettuce and mushrooms on a hot dog?

I have fully failed him.

The rest of this episode is watching both Joey Wheeler and Mokuba have a shared panic attack while Seto does freakin nothing.

Please remember that Seto has both a jetpack and a dragon wife plane and could have easily solved this problem. But nah.

Then again, Seto Kaiba has given this crew so MANY rides, that maybe he’s tired of being the Soccer Mom for the team?

Like they don’t actually say this episode, but Seto was the one in charge of like...this entire place, do you think he made the 2 for 1 special just to get Joey where it hurts the most? Or does it actually not take any subterfuge to screw Joey Wheeler because he’s just naturally this way?

Like Mokuba wasn’t there when Joey was told “stay right here, and then we will all go together to fight Dartz” and Joey was like “I’mma save Mai from herself although she told me not to!” and then he Hella Died. But, Mokuba did see the result, AKA, Joey’s dead body being carried on the back of Tristan. Maybe Mokuba never realized that Joey died because he went out of his way to be late?

Lets do a tally of every time I can recall with my dodgy memory that Joey was threatened to be DQ’d/pretty much was DQ’d either by his own fault or no fault of his own

-When he wasn’t allowed to go on the boat to Murder Island because he was a stupid nobody kid who did not have a dueling glove

-When he wasn’t actually supposed to be in Pegasus’ tourney and was, in fact, secretly using half of Yugi’s entrance ticket the entire time

-when Bandit Keith stole the ticket that Joey got from Yugi so then Joey had to borrow Mai’s ticket although she had just used it so it really shouldn't have counted. Because, really anyone could have just piggy backed off of each other’s ticket until the whole boat went through that castle.

-When his account was hacked to get entered into Kaiba’s tourney when Kaiba very clearly told him he could not apply solely because he was Joey Wheeler.

-When he was late to his sister’s eye surgery because he got mugged by Marik’s Rare Hunters, so she almost refused to do the surgery.

-When Joey got possessed by Marik, and as Marik, threatened to murder everyone else in the tournament including both of the Kaiba brother’s who’s tournament it was, and then chained himself to Yugi Muto to throw both of them to the bottom of the ocean.

-I think there was a point when he threatened to attack Kaiba in Kaiba’s own tourney while not possessed? Like several times?

-when he got struck by Lightning and almost did not stand up fast enough after being struck by lightning, which is apparently a type of DQ in Duel Monsters.

-When he tried to save Mai from getting hit by a fireball, but then Yugi did it instead, and then so many people were standing on the dueling platform that Kaiba couldn’t possibly DQ them all.

-When he entered the restricted area of the blimp in order to hassle Kaiba into landing the Blimp, which Kaiba did not do.

-When Marik killed Joey before Joey could press the “go” button on his duel disk to play the card that should have won Joey the match.

-When he was dueling a lawyer in a digital universe but then the dice was like...weighted? So Noah had to walk over and be like “The hell is this weighted dice? This is my perfect digital world? How did you even do that?” and then Joey won because the match was no longer legit.

-When Joey yelled at Noah too much and so Noah turned Joey to stone for being a rude ass spectator

-When Mai was like “Wheeler and Valon, listen closely: do NOT murder each other” and then Joey did a murder on Valon so she was like “I guess I have no choice, I was very clear” and killed Joey straight up.

-When Joey decided to block Seto’s fireballs while Joey Wheeler WAS a playing card, somehow disrespecting both Dartz and Seto Kaiba at the same time.

-When Joey was playing cards but then got absorbed into a giant Leviathan and basically couldn’t play anymore after that.

-There’s probably hell ton of S0 stuff I just haven’t seen yet.

-This episode

And Joey runs fast for a montage of wacky things that really have no business being in a theme park. Things like this:

(remember when Bakura almost died from a rock that ended up being a balloon? It comes full circle.)

The stuff that the Kaiba brother’s think is normal and fun.

Anyway Joey fights off a bunch of hologram snakes and bats and everyone is like “Should we tell him it’s just holograms???” And it’s like wow, guys, how many times have these ‘holograms’ straight up murdered Joey Wheeler and everyone else on this cast? Too many? Because I have a google doc with so many deaths on it. 7,805,844,048, to be exact.

Anyway, he gets there with five seconds to spare and Mokuba’s like “well at least you were still entertaining while we filmed you in front of a live audience being a total spaz for 15 minutes straight, so I’ll let you go.”

Grandpa and Joey start playing, Joey completely oblivious that this is just an older Muto, while Hawkins walks up awkwardly and is like “hey guys. I’m so sorry about this.”

(welcome to my font choices, for those new here, I have to make weird font color choices to make sure it’s legible for the colorblind and also for the non-colorblind. This one is not much contrast, so I may change it up in the future, but for now, this is Grandpa Muto’s new font. I apologize to every graphic designer reading this. Please don’t tell anyone who has ever hired me for graphic design about this blog.)

What’s funny about this exchange is that after they find out that Yugi’s Grandpa is Apdnarg (HOLY my brain cannot get around the spelling for that, and I will not change it in the caps. I cannot do a ‘pdn’ ever again), they don’t stand on his side of the field or anything. Hawkins is legit Solomon Muto’s only fan during this exchange and like...damn. Way not to back your Grandpa, Yugi.

Yugi immediately strides up to Mokuba to non-confrontation-ally inform him that he has stepped over a line and Mokuba is like “what are these things you say called ‘lines?’”

According to Mokuba, Solomon Muto begged him to be in the competition so he could relive his glory days (glory days making no sense here, because the game has only been released for the past 15 years, so glory days is like...the before times that can only be referring to disgraced archeologists and Pegasus ((who is, in his own way...a disgraced archeologist, too))) and Mokuba was like

“You trained Yugi Muto, right? Hey that’s good enough for me. This drama is gold. People will eat it up. Hell yes. Don’t be afraid to abduct him a little bit. Maybe trap a couple people in a digital hellscape for a little while? Now we go by Pegasus house rules here, so fire as many lasers as you want, but just make sure not to hit anyone in the face. Oh man, we are going to be swimming in cash. Love it, Muto Sr, love it.”

But I dunno, I feel like Grandpa won’t make it past next episode. It is Joey. We kinda need him to make it past Ep 4 of the arc. If Grandpa Muto becomes the new Joey Wheeler, that will be a weird transition for this show to make.

But that’s all for today, as always, here is the link to read these in chrono order becuase there’s SO MANY that you don’t need to read backwards--don’t do it--just use the chrono tag (and I don’t know if you can add compound tags, but I did separate the Season from the Episode, so if you write S4, it should only pop up stuff from S4. I didn't’ do that to seasons 1-3 though because I just...didn’t.)

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

And because I brought it up: here it is, the best BTS Mashup that I found on my deep dive. Like legit--this one isn’t a mess:

Most of other ones are horrible in a fascinating way. Like I’m not even a BTS fan, I think I sort of age out of that metric, I’m just bored and quarantined. And lets be real, we all appreciate a good bop when we hear it.

[ughgclden]

bee, love, don’t apologise, please, it’s okay, and first and foremost, are you alright?? i hope you’re taking care of yourself, love, but i understand, i don’t think there’s been a year since third grade that i haven’t gotten pneumonia in the winter. I hope you’re feeling alright!!

honestly, dead poets society is one of my only personality traits anymore, i find myself drawing parallels to it constantly, for no reason but i love thinking about it. i’ve watched it so many times at this point, it’s,,, concerning. those tests always take me way less time than they give me, and i used to feel really awkward, i remember i took a bio one once, four hours they gave me, 45 minutes in, i was finished, and the moderator didn’t believe me. i aced it too, like the silly little neil kinnie i am. i’ve gotten used to the ‘worse’ side of being a neil kinnie, and honestly, now that my mum isn’t as controlling about everything as she used to be, it’s easier to deal with. i remember once, i’d gotten an 89 in algebra, and she threatened to pull me out of the fall show. that was a neil perry moment if i ever had one lol. the biggest thing these days is just imposter syndrome, imposter syndrome like oh you’re not hispanic enough, but also, you’re not queer enough, nonbinary enough, things like that. It’s exacerbated some days, but i try.

i watched the it movies on my cousin’s hbo,,, i may or may not have used it without her permission since she forgot to log out of my computer, but that’s neither here nor there. i remember having such a hard time taking the first one seriously initially, because of all the new kids on the block jokes, having a mum who was obsessed with them made it hard, especially when i actually got them all- in truth, the only midnight premiere i’ve been able to make was the force awakens, and i had school the next day too. i’m definitely a richie kinnie, and i have the internalised homophobia (only towards myself though) to prove it /hj my waterbottle has both a sticker of neil on it and a sticker of the r + e carving on it. in case there was any doubt about me lmao. stan kin makes sense for you, honestly, i can see it, i can see it.

okay so listen- no really, i’d bought them with the intention of only drinking half of one that night and spreading them out like that, but then came 9:45pm, and i had a research paper (on womens’ pockets/lack thereof) due at 10am that i simply hadn’t even started, so i downed them all in an hour and got the paper turned in at 5:56 in the morning. but i scare you huh? /hj bee, you’re too sweet, in truth, i’m fairly inelegant, but i try, as for the comforting and cosy, i’ll take you at your word, since that is something only someone interacting with me could discern. i do try to be kind to others for the most part. mainly i think because i’m usually on the other end of mean people.

i’m just perceptive like that bee, i dunno what to tell you, something just tells me, you know? /j and thank you, i always feel a little silly talking about it, because most of the tattoos i want are dead poets society tattoos, i guess some part of me, within the part of me that feels so incredibly tied to it, feels as if if i were able to get a tattoo i’d owe it to the movie in some way, if that makes any sense. i’ve already begged a friend of mine to go with me to get my first once i get to new york, the question though, is what to get first. i’ve got time to make a decision (for once in my life) i just spend a lot of time thinking about it.

honestly, i have never known a school rule to make sense. banning ripped jeans? banning dyed hair? it’s almost as if if they don’t stifle everything natural about kids expressing themselves they dont feel like they’re doing anything. but i digress. the same-sex couple rules were. awful. 12 year old me had enough going on without having an administrator yell at my friend and i for hugging in the courtyard and not leaving until we were a foot apart, but hey.

okay, jumping over a fence to go to a mcdonalds? how coming of age indie movie manic pixie dream girl of you /hj

200k words, is that a challenge? also ahaha not at all like my italian uncle up there just opened a ‘pizzeria’ /hj but mob!star au? might be a project i should start… granted, i’m not as good a storyteller as you, but i can try.

when i was little, i wanted to revolutionise things, i guess. i even actually wrote out a campaign, i wonder if its still somewhere. thank you for believing in me, but these days, bee, i’m thinking less about changing the world, and more about making it the next few weeks, and then the ones after that. little star was aware of so much, but also so little. i wonder what they’d think of me now, honestly.

i did, in fact, teach archery, it was so fun but my arms got SO SORE, and the kid who challenged my archery skills seemed surprised when i actually,, hit the bullseyes. my inner susan was happy then. incidentally the experience is also why i made a playlist called “touchstarved and wanting to teach you to shoot a bow” which low-key slaps when i’m lonely. and bee omg i cannot believe you said im better than susan pevensie i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life thank you- and yes, yes it was named aslan, however did you guess? /j prince caspian<33333

i’ll let you know my results from the tournament, as soon as they come out, and i say this having just put on pjs after taking off my suit, and sitting in the room with my cat in my dear evan hansen hoodie, frantically refreshing the results page because i’m anxious and impatient.

i hope you have a good night, with fitful and restful sleep, i’m sorry this got to be so long, but you know me, i certainly can talk. i’m honestly shocked i even made it to finals, considering i was running off four hours of sleep, having gone to bed at three last night. whoops.

all my love, hugs, and a warm mug of tea,

yours,

star✨

p.s i said yes so that?? happened?? it honestly feels surreal but we’re not gonna be in the same place anymore come the end of this year, so that’ll be something to deal with

P.p.s might just start adding spanish or latin or russian phrases to these if i keep having to translate your cute french bee /lh /hj

star my love, i know you said don't apologise, but i think the word 'sorry' makes up about 60% of my vocabulary. i'm okay!! was just a bit icky, but luckily i've recovered now!!

that's so nice - and again, makes so much sense for you. i think you would work perfectly in welton, i know it. i love bringing the messages from that film into my own life, as silly as it may sound. i'm astonished, and so fucking jealous of you. i used to finish tests maybe half an hour early, but hours is so impressive??? fun fact i did finish my physics final in about 45 minutes and slept for the other hour <3 neil would b proud my love!!! oh my god - i'm so sorry that happened??? but that is also so neil kinnie??? it seems futile me saying this, but i assure you that you are hispanic enough, and queer enough, and non-binary enough. you are enough, period. more than enough even. imposter syndrome is the worst, and i'm so so sorry you're dealing with it.

she did that to herself, you just saw an opportunity /lh a midnight premiere of the force awakens sounds so cute though omg - i hope you had the absolute best time. the r + e carving actually broke me. as a die hard reddie shipper since 2017, seeing the movie make it basically canon?! had me a mess in the cinema.

you are ridiculously comforting and cosy, everything about you feels like a warm hug from a familiar face and i love it. and the way you write is so smooth, it makes me think of a quill smoothly gliding across parchment, the deep black ink unsmudged and pristine. that seems a little pretentious of me, but oh well.

i also want some dps tattoos!! i desperately want "and still we sleep" from todd's poem, and was also so so tempted to get an outline drawing of meeks + pitts dancing on the roof. i love that, and i can't wait until the day you get it, whichever one it may be. my one concern is becoming addicted to them and making my bank account suffer - at least my piercing obsession is a little easier to fund /hj

i've NEVER gotten that - they claim it's 'distracting' but how on earth would it be?? when i got to college, no one was distracted by my dyed hair, and i certainly wasn't distracted by other people's outfits or painted nails. you were yelled at. for hugging. a friend.. what the fuck is wrong with these people??

just call me ramona flowers star /j it was possibly the highlight of my school career, sans hiding in the back room of the music room to avoid a maths test

i bet you're an amazing storyteller, if these letters are anything to go by. it would be a new york times best seller, i know it

we all have to take things one step at a time, i think. that's the only way i really get through things if i'm honest. one day after another and the cycle repeats. i love wondering what young me would think of me now - i'd probably be intimidated of myself, but i like to think i'd be proud that i'm still here, pursuing something i love

that playlist. sounds nothing short of sheer perfection. i too am touch starved and want to teach someone to shoot a bow - even though i.. cannot shoot a bow... but i can wield a sword so, it's close enough.

i saw your message about the tournament results - im so fucking proud of you!!!! you deserve it so so much and i couldn't be happier for you. see, your words and ideas are changing the world, even if you don't realise it.

ps; that is so fun???? omg im so happy for you star, you deserve tis <33 i hope towards the end of this year whatever happens leaves you both happy, no matter how far the distance.

pps; omg no.. please don't do that.. aha that would be awful... definitely wouldn't make my heart race.. haha not at all

all of my love, star. pardon the pun, but you are out of this world ;) i'll leave you with one of my favourite quotes;

il n'y a qu'un bonheur dans la vie, c'est d'aimer et d'être aimé <3

[violetsbaudelaire-archive]

Title: The Cloud That Took the Form of a Demon In My View - Chapter One 

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

Relationships: Background Julie Molina/Luke Patterson

Summary: After the death of her mother and the demonic possession of her father, Julie Molina hunts the supernatural with her best friend Flynn. She pursues a nomadic life until a string of suspicious bathtub electrocutions draws her back home to hunt down a ghost. (Supernatural AU)

It had been a 13-month search and nothing had come of it. Nothing pertaining to the being Julie and Flynn were looking for. They had found and removed varying other supernatural beings but not their target, a demon whose name neither girl knew. Julie was sitting at a desk in a cheap hotel, one of many in the months that had passed. She was looking at the odd happenings around the country as she always did hoping to find a lead on their demon. Where one odd occurrence happened, another wasn’t too far behind and demons usually loved to get into trouble. Flynn had gone out to buy fast food breakfast and hadn’t come back yet. It wasn’t long enough to worry most people but it worried Julie. She tried to logic her way out of worry as she scrolled. There’s probably a long line. There’s always a long line to get coffee before work.

Just as she repeated those thoughts to herself again, she found an article. To most, it could be ruled off as an accidental bathtub electrocution. The problem was this was the third this week, all in the same city: her hometown, Los Angeles. She sighed and minimized the page. They were close to Arizona, a little while from LA but they had no intentions of returning. At least, not until the demon inhabiting her father’s body could be found. If the demon even still had it, Julie thought to herself macabrely. She shook it off. Her dad was still alive, full of demon or not. 

The door swung open and caused Julie to jump out of her skin. Her hand instinctively flew to the cross necklace she had started wearing with her other jewelry since her dad’s possession. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Flynn said, balancing a bag of food and a cup holder in her hands, “There was a long line at McDonalds.” 

Julie dropped her hand. 

“Are you okay?” Flynn asked when she saw her friend’s face. She put the food on the table and came closer to Julie. “Was there something in here?” 

Julie shook her head. “You scared me coming in.” 

“Ghosts and demons don’t use doors,” Flynn said matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah, well, someone possessed by them might. Or maybe a witch, vampire, werewolf, or something else.” 

“Anything that comes in here has a death wish. We’re the most badass hunters in America.” 

“Yeah,” Julie said, as if trying to convince herself. Then, she added more confidently, “We are.” 

“Anyway, did’ya find anything?” 

“Yeah. Ghost in LA.” 

“Are you ready to go back there, Jules?” Flynn asked softly. 

“I think so. Besides, it’s been awhile since our last ghost.” 

Flynn didn’t look entirely convinced. “It’s okay to not take this one. Someone else will get it.” 

“No, it’s okay. We won’t be there long.” 

“You’re not going to see your aunt and Carlos?” 

“I’m not ready for that conversation.” 

Flynn nodded. “Are we going after breakfast? Or?” 

“Yeah, after breakfast.” 

Los Angeles was a strange place for Julie. It was her home but it was also the place where she had lost everything she ever had. Returning reminded her of this but also of failure. It reminded her of the empty seats at her graduation. Going home meant she had to accept that her and her little brother were orphans now - not without loved ones but faced with a loneliness that could never end. Julie had to find her father, not just for herself but for Carlos. 

Flynn opened the bag and divvied up their breakfast. Julie pushed her food closer and began to eat, trying to find the bright side of this situation. Flynn was the first to come to mind. Even if the world turned against her, Flynn would be by her side. Her mother, though passed on, was still a bright side. Nothing, not even permanence of death could take her memories of joy and music that they had shared. The possibility of her dad being out there was a bright side. With this in mind, Julie finished her breakfast with her mind more at ease. 

Flynn wasn’t the best driver but she liked to drive nonetheless. Julie was the more capable driver but she was a better navigator. She found it easier to navigate when she wasn’t avoiding drivers worse than Flynn on the road. Being the navigator also meant choosing the music and Julie wanted something upbeat for the road. California had gotten so far from her and Flynn that it would be a day or two before they reached it. It was the longest road trip with few stops they had gone on in awhile. Flynn turned the key in the ignition and Julie scrolled through her playlists. She found a song and selected it just as Flynn pulled out of the parking lot. 

At some point Julie had fallen asleep. She blinked as she took in her surroundings. “Where are we? Flynn, I was supposed to be navigating.” 

“It’s okay. I’m handling it,” said Flynn. “You barely slept at all in the last motel. You needed sleep.” 

“Thanks.” 

After a minute, she added, “I should drive. You need sleep too.” 

Flynn shook her head. “I had a Redbull.” 

Julie gave her friend a look. “Flynn.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll pull over,” Flynn said and she did. Seat belts unbuckled and they switched places. Almost as soon as Julie pulled off the shoulder, Flynn was asleep. Julie looked amusedly at her friend. She drove until the sun rose again and they were just outside Arizona. 

Then it was a quick stop at a gas station to buy a less than satisfactory breakfast. It was time like these Julie missed her mom especially. It was Saturday morning and in a time that was starting to feel like an old movie, she would be watching cartoons with a much younger version of her brother and eating a fresh, hot breakfast her mother had made. 

“I said that’ll be 10.50,” the cashier said irritably. He was the usual sort someone would see at a gas station in the middle of practically nowhere: some old man whose love of life was fading faster than his hair. 

“Sorry,” Julie said quickly, pulling the cash out of her pocket. The cashier checked the money in the light then put it in the register. He slid her breakfast across the counter and asked if she wanted a lottery ticket or a pack of smokes. Yes, he had said ‘smokes.’

Julie made a face and grabbed the black bag her food had been put in. “I don’t smoke, or gamble.” She headed toward the door and added, “Have a nice day” as she went out. He didn’t get the chance to return the formality. Gas station cashiers have a way of making people uncomfortable, even if they do nothing at all. This one was no different. 

Flynn was waiting in the driver’s seat. Julie opened the bag and handed some of the food to her. Neither said anything as they made their way back to the freeway. 

California was a refreshing sight after over a year of navigating unfamiliar places. Los Angeles was especially so. Julie watched the buildings of the Citadel Outlets pass by in the window. She was home. 

The occurrences described in the article had been occurring in a residential part of town made up of mainly middle class families. The victims were disproportionately teens. The types of teens who bring their cell phones into their bathrooms. Julie wasn’t an expert on electricity but these incidents struck her as odd. Not many people got electrocuted in their bathtubs. Based on her Google searches over the past day and a half, a cell phone isn’t enough to electrocute a person in a bath. It has to be plugged into the wall. Then it has to fray or fall into the bathwater. It takes a great deal of stupidity or negligence. Put a ghost in the mix, however, and everything becomes more likely. 

Flynn was checking them into a new motel when the news of a new electrocution came in. This article confirmed Julie’s suspicions of a ghost and made this trip less of a waste of time. Nothing at all had been plugged in when this teen girl had gotten into her tub. Her mother had checked on her only minutes before her death. Then when the police arrived, a frayed extension cord had made its way from a drawer into a socket then into a wall. It was far too strange. And when Julie told Flynn, she agreed. 

Flynn pocketed their room key and they headed for the car. 

Usually Julie and Flynn’s adventures involved abandoned buildings so Julie was unsure what to say when they arrived at the Ford residence. She was too young to be a police officer and too old to be a girl scout. She knocked on the door anyway. 

A distressed middle aged white woman answered the door. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying it.” 

The woman moved to close the door. Flynn interrupted her. “We’re not selling anything, Mrs. Ford, we’re here about your daughter.” 

“It’s Ms. Ford. I’m divorced,” the woman corrected. “And the police were just here.” 

“We’re not police,” Julie said. “We hunt the supernatural. We think your daughter’s death wasn’t an accident.” 

The woman frowned. “I’m desperate but I’m not that desperate. Three boys about your age came around her an hour ago saying the same thing. They said they were looking for a ghost in this neighborhood.” 

“Don’t you think it’s weird four different teens have died the same way in the past week?” 

“Yes,” the woman said. “But teenagers are stupid.” 

“Even your daughter?” 

The woman shrugged. “I don’t believe in ghosts.” 

Ms. Ford went to shut the door again but Flynn stopped her. “Do you know where those boys went?” 

“Something about the junkyard down the road. The blonde one said something about it being a good spot to hide something.” 

“Thank you,” Julie said. “I hope you find answers” - she clutched her cross necklace - “I know what it’s like to lose those you love.” 

Ms. Ford nodded sadly and shut the door. 

“Do you think those boys are trying to find the object the ghost is attached to?” Julie asked Flynn. 

“Yeah,” she said. “But why in a junkyard?” 

“Good place to hide something you don’t want found.” 

By that point, they had made it back to their car and proceeded to get in. 

Then, it was off to the junkyard.

[fallen420]

Rebel Spy - Chapter 6: A Simple Supply Run

Description: Auroras life becomes lonely after the war ends but when a familiar Mandalorain needs her help who is she to refuse.

Prologue   Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Playlist

"Okay Okay, I got a story for you," I laugh as Mando and I sit at the table during another sleepless night.

"Let's hear it," Mando says.

"Okay, so we had been at the bar all night. So were stumbling out drinks still in hand. The streets are empty and it's just us and my friend decided they want to steal a street sign." Mando titles his head, "Okay I decided I wanted a street sign. So anyway we're trying to climb up the sign to take it down but we were drunk so we could barely walk. And then these alarms go off and it's loud. When we turn around there's a droid cop. So my friend in panic throws his glass on the ground I mean glass and alcohol go everywhere and he yells Scatter!" I laugh at the memory, "Okay so then we book it all different directions. And of course, the stupid droid ends up follow me." I start laughing thinking about it

Mando laughs lightly, "What did you do?"

"I ran to an ally and threw a rock at its head."

"Of course you did."

"Next thing I remember I'm waking up in my room with a pounding headache." He chuckles, I sit up, "We were so young and-"

"Stupid."

"Oh shut up target practice."

"Long time ago." He reminds me.

"You would have loved Alderaan, this prompts a head tilt, " You wouldn't like all the people but uh we could get you a cabin on the mountains. Not the snowy ones though the ones with the patches of green. Hypothetically of course 'cause it's...gone." I whisper the last part. I look up at him, "Sorry didn't mean to kill the mood."

"Don't apologize cyar'ika."

I want to ask what it means but I know he won't tell me. Instead, I look into his visor and say, "I bet you have brown eyes." I rest my chin in my hand.

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. It just feels right. Plus I've uh always preferred brown eyes."

He looks-I think- into my brown eyes, "So do I."

I could of died right then and there.

"Oh," I breathe out.

He places his gloveless hand on top of mine and I stop breathing altogether.

He's about to say something and then the kid starts crying. We both sigh, "I should get that."

"Yeah," much to my disappointment he stands up, removing his hand, and walking back to his room. "Good night cyar'ika."

"Good night."

I climb onto the cot and the second I do the kid stops crying, "I can't believe that you would do that to me." I whisper to the kid and he has the audacity to giggle at me. "Don't laugh at me I will toss you off this cot."

-

I look in the mirror at injuries to my face. My nose as pretty much healed and there are faint bruises on my eyes and check. I touch along the bruises wincing a little at the pain. I've had worse. A lot worse. But it's been a long time since I've taken a punch to the face.

Ever since it happened however Mando has been a little overprotective. I mean he follows me around every scared it's gonna happen again.

I walk out of the fresher and he's sitting at the table cleaning his blasters, "I need to make a supply run."

He doesn't even look up, "No."

"We're not gonna make it to the next planet."

"We'll be fine."

"No we won't unless you're planning on starving."

"We won't starve."

"Are you gonna hunt us some food? Mando, we have like 3 rations left."

"I'll go."

"What kind of food does the kid like to eat?"

Ever since I got here he hasn't had to worry about that stuff. Yes this kid loves eating whatever frogs are outside but he also makes me buy a specific kind.

"You're not going alone."

"It'll take me less than an hour." No response, "Mando, we need food, water, clothes, and to refill our med kit." Nothing, "I can take care of myself."

"I'm going with you."

"Don't you think that'll draw attention?"

"I can't risk you getting taken again."

"Well, actually when you think about I got taken at the ship so it might be safer for me to go on a quick supply run."

"Aurora, I'm serious."

"Fine but we're gonna have to bring the kid 'cause I don't trust him here alone."

-

I hold onto the kid as we walk into the nearest city.

"What do we need?" Mando asks.

"Everything."

"Everything?"

"We're literally out of everything."

He sighs, "Don't let your guard down there are people out there looking for us."

"Got it."

The city is full of life. There are vendors, shops, people are everywhere. I want to look at everything.

I walk over to a booth full of jewelry. My eyes glance over the shiny accessories.

"I thought we were here for important stuff."

"This is important."

I spot a booth with flower crowns and I speed walk over there, "You get distracted easier than the child."

"Shut up target practice."

"Stop calling me that."

I pick up a pink and white very simple pink and white flower crown, "How much?" I ask the vendor.

"Three credits." I take the credits out of my pocket and give them to the vendor. "Thank you."

I smile and place the crown on my head, "Let's go."

-

"Dried frogs?"

"Yes, they're the kids favorite." The kid coos at the sight of them, "See?" Mando pays for the food and we leave the shop, "Okay we got everything we can head back to the razor crest now. I mean I did however see a restaurant earlier."

"Aurora-"

"Come one I haven't had a good meal in weeks."

"Fine."

I smile in success

As we walk to the restaurant people move out of our way, "Okay, I could definitely get used to people staying from me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean people automatically move out of our way and weird guys don't hit on me."

"Does that happen to you a lot?"

"Not since I started hanging out with a Mandalorian. Here it is!" I walk into the restaurant. Mando walks in behind me and everyone stares. I ignore it and I sit in the nearest booth.

I put the kid down in between me and the wall. Mando sits across from us.

"What can I get you?" The waiter asks starring at Mando a little too long.

"Bone broth for the kid and a sandwich for me."

"How about you?" She practically coos at Mando.

Oh no not again. That feeling is back. I gotta stop this, he's a Mandalorian its probably against their code anyway.

"Aurora?" I hear pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Mhm?"

"You okay there? You dozed off."

"Uh fine just uh thinking."

"About?"

You.

"Nothing." The kid starts to coo before climbing into my lap once he gets settled he giggles, "Little womp rat."

"He likes you."

"You would think so he never leaves me alone," I say with a laugh. I look down at his big eyes and his big ears, "Maybe I like him too." The waiter brings us our food lingering for a little too long. I had the kid his tiny bowl and I take a bite of my food, "She likes you."

"No, she doesn't."

"Really? Then why is she staring?"

"Maybe she hasn't seen a Mandalorian before."

"Or maybe she has a thing for them." He tilts his head, "What? Don't look at me like you know somebody does. I mean I wouldn't blame them."

No, it's his turn to get flustered. I smile before taking another bite.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Have a thing for Mandalorian's?"

Before I can answer a man and a woman walk inside. They each have a tracking forb which start blinking at soon as they walk in.

"Shit."

"What?"

"Two bounty hunters. I'm almost certain those tracking forbs are for us."

"Let's go."

"Wait if we run out of here don't you think we'll draw attention to ourselves."

"Either way it's a bad idea."

"Okay, I'll go first you follow." I hide the kid in my jacket, slowly standing up, and walking out of there trying to draw the least amount of attention. Then the kid laughs, "Shh." But it's too late the bounty hunters already have their blasters drawn.

I draw mine and Mando draws his. The girl is pointing her's at me and the man has his pointed at Mando.

The waiters and customers either run out the door and hide under the tables and behind the bar.

"Let's make this easy," She says, "Give us the kid. No one gets hurt."

"No," Mando and I say at the same time.

"Suit yourself."

They both shoot. I get down and hid under the table in front of me. I hear more shooting. I come out and shoot the girl in the shoulder. She shoots at me again and I hide. I come out again to see Mando and the guy in a very intense fight.

Mando throws him across the room. He hits the wall knocking him out. This pisses off the girl she shoots Mando but it just bounces off his armor. I shoot her again this time in the leg. She falls to the ground in pain. I walk up behind her hitting her in the head with my blaster knocking her out. I grab the tracking forb off her hip and Mando gets his. We grab our stuff and go.

The walk back to the ship is mostly silent.

"Wait."

Mando stops walking and turns around, "What?"

"We didn't pay." He turns back to keep walking, "It's the least we could of done."

-

When we get back to the ship I put everything we bought away. I place the flower crown that someone said intake during the fight on my cot before going up to the cockpit.

"The tracking forbs?"

"Destroyed them?"

"Good." I sit down.

"The kid?"

"Asleep. He has a very eventful day." I yawn feeling the tiredness take over my body.

"You should some sleep too, cyar'ika."

Maybe its because I'm too tired to actually think but I finally ask him, "What does that mean?"

He stiffness, "Nothing."

"It's Mando'a right?"

"Yeah."

"Then what does-"

"It doesn't mean anything."

"Fine but I'll get it out of you one day." I end up drifting off to sleep in the chair.

-

I crawl out of bed careful not to wake the sleeping women next to me. I put on a robe and walk onto the balcony. You could see the whole city from here. The busy streets. The people going on about their life.

"What are you doing?" She asks now standing behind me.

"Just enjoying the view."

We look back out onto the view together. Then we see a weird light in the sky.

"Hey what is that?"

Then nothing.

I wake up breathing heavily from the recurring nightmare. Mando turns around quickly, "What wrong?"

"Nothing just a uh- bad dream that's all."

I haven't dreamt about her in years. Why now?

"Oh. Do you wanna- talk about it?" he struggles to get that last part out.

"It's just sometimes I dream that uh I was on Alderaan when it happened." I don't mention the girl I used to love because she's in the past and this is my future.

He thinks for a long time before saying, "You have survivors guilt. I uh had it too. You dream about it because you think you should of been there it should of been you instead. I used to get the same kind of dreams."

"Oh."

He says this part quieter, "You can't feel bad for things out of our control, cyar'ika."

-

Feedback is always appreciated :)

[killinbills]

╰⊱♥⊱╮ the killinbills guide to planning a fic!! (part two)

Normally I don’t make these sort of things, but I get a lot of asks about how I plan my fics so I thought it would be easier to do a tutorial like this. This works for me, but it won’t work for everyone. I think the thing with planning fics/stories, in general, is that everyone will have their own way of doing it, and it really depends on you as a person. But,,, it might help if you maybe take some of the steps that I do, so here is what I do.

(If you don’t know me, hi! I’m Lucy aka bioodflood on wattpad, and in the almost six years I’ve been on there, I’ve completed six Harry Potter oc fanfics... A few more including the ones that have been taken down, including a couple Teen Wolf ones and one for The Flash, but yeah, I’ve written and planned a lot.)

So, in this, I’m gonna talk about:

Titles (including chapter titles)

Dialogue

Staying motivated

Fanfic specific, including changing canon plot effectively and although they’ll apply mostly to HP, they can be changed to suit whatever fandom you are writing for!!

also How I use Pinterest

and More on chapter summaries

In part one I talked about:

Characters

Plotting

Twists (both big ones then lil plot advancers)

Soon, I’m going to write a part three and that’ll focus on first chapters!

I hope this is of use to you guys, and if it is, please consider reblogging so others can see this, too!! 💖💖 (also!! my ko-fi is here if you would like to buy me a coffee and support me!!)

also: special thanks to @starkdnvers for helping me with the gif at the top!

╰⊱♥⊱ READ PART ONE HERE

╰⊱♥⊱╮ one: titles

╰⊱♥⊱╮ step no. one: actual story titles

The way to title your story is pretty simple, really. It needs to reflect upon the entire story. You can take inspiration from things like songs, but personally, I prefer it when people don’t? Obviously sometimes there are exceptions, but for the most part, if you want an effective story title, make sure it fits the story.

Maybe it’s named after the main character. I have a fic called Briar, after the main character Briar, and I also have a fic called Morningstar, which is the main character’s surname, and her surname represents the power she has. Both of these titles reflect upon the story itself.

I’m gonna be honest, one of my fics is called Go Lightly and tbh, what happened was that it was going to be called something else, but “go lightly” was the name of playlist because the character’s name is Holly, and “go lightly” just stuck. I sort of made the phrase have a meaning in the story, which I count as an exception but again, like I said, every writing rule has exceptions.

Sometimes titles can be super hard to think of, but, if you’re like me and you like to give your playlists cute names, sometimes you’ll end up giving them a name, and then that name sticks, and works as the title. (It’s happened twice now, for me??)

The way to titling your story is thinking of what the story’s about. Do some thinking about it, maybe write down a couple you like the idea of, and normally I find that one title will just fit. Same goes for character names -- there’ll be one that just works, and until you get to that point, you just need to persevere.

╰⊱♥⊱╮ step no. two: chapter titles

I love chapter titles!! I’ve been told before that I have nice ones, and I’ve answered this in an ask before, but I’ll break it down here.

Sometimes i’ll pick out phrases from the chapter and use them, but also, i’ll look at song titles and other things. All of my fics have a whole note dedicated to potential chapter titles (which makes it so much easier when you’re struggling!!) and basically I’ll write down idioms, phrases, etc, that could work as a chapter title.

The idea is to try and make that chapter titles feel as if they have a correlation, even if only you can see it. (To be honest, I didn’t think people noticed mine, but apparently they do, so maybe others will see the correlation too!!)

So, for example, my fic Morningstar, for the list of chapter titles I’ve written down phrases taking inspiration from:

Gossip Girl episodes (she lives in the upper east side)

Old school book titles, including The Clique, Monster High, and Clueless (these all fit the main character’s overall vibe and the style that her narration is written!)

I feel like it adds another level of character to the story, if the chapter titles are written in a way that reflects upon the main character. For Clueless, the chapter titles are all a little flirty and playful because that’s what the main character’s like. I wouldn’t recommend having a solid theme (obviously there are EXCEPTIONS!) because sometimes a chapter needs a Specific Title. But, if you guys were wanting your chapter titles to have some correlation to them, this is how I do it!

╰⊱♥⊱╮ two: dialogue

This one is gonna be super short, because I don’t really know how best to explain this. I write dialogue with the intention of making it sound realistic. But, sometimes it helps me to write just the dialogue, almost like a script, before writing the scene because then I can focus on what the characters are saying. You can change the dialogue when you write the full scene, but sometimes it helps to focus just on the dialogue -- and, sometimes you sort of have an idea of how you want the scene to go, so by writing the dialogue down you know what you’re doing when you get to it!!

If you’re unsure of your dialogue/conversations sounding unrealistic, I try to keep in mind that certain people have phrases they use a lot, so characters have the same. Harry says “um” and “erm,” like, a lot. All of the Weasley kids (sort of excluding Ginny) say stuff like, “bloody,” “blimey...” You can sort of get a feel, though, for how each character speaks in the books themselves, and I’ve found it useful keeping that in mind. (But of course we haven’t heard a lot of them talking about certain things, just speaking to Harry, so if you’re unsure of how certain characters may speak to a love interest, try and keep it close to how they normally speak, but also, you can go AU if you think it’s what they probably would say.) (For this, I mean stuff like, how they say they love someone, or something.) (If you want to see my break-down of certain HP characters and how I’d write them, I have a whole list here!)

╰⊱♥⊱╮ three: staying motivated

A lot of people tell me I’m really good with updating, and like,,,, to be honest I sort of am? And like it’s not a bad thing that sometimes it takes a while for people to update,,, it’s just that a lot of the time, during school breaks, I have the time to spend on writing. I’m not saying it’s bad that sometimes people take a while to update. People are busy with school and work and life (I literally didn’t update from September to December of last year because of everything,,, and I stopped when I had exams, too) and at the end of the day, we write because we enjoy it. 

But here is how I stay motivated. (Or, in other words, how I’ve finished six whole fics, soon to be seven.)

When I get into something I get committed, and I enjoy writing the fics I write, so when I finish a chapter, normally I’ll get the next one ready to go. I enjoy feeling productive. I feel guilty if I haven’t written a story, and tbh if I haven’t been writing a story and don’t want to write it,, I’ll most likely unpublish the story because I don’t want to disappoint readers. However. There are a couple of things I keep in mind when I’m planning and such, and this is them:

I’ll commit to a small handful of fics at once. Three is stressful for me. Right now I’m writing three, but I’m at the end of one, so it’s not so bad. But I’d recommend keeping a low count of unfinished fics, because then you can focus on them.

I’ll commit. When I plan a story it will be in my drafts for a VERY long time because I’ll wait for the moment where I’ve got the time and I really want to start that story. I’ve developed it, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to start it yet. I also want to take time to see if I really want to write something. Like, for ages I thought I was going to post this one fic, and then four months later I decided against it. Taking time before posting a story allows you to sit and think, do you want to spend hours writing this, or do you like the idea?

In terms of beating writer’s block, the only way to beat it is to write. It’s annoying and you don’t want to, but the only way you’re going to get through writer’s block is if you write the chapter.

╰⊱♥⊱╮ four: fanfic specific

I’ve already addressed deciding what canon plots to use in part one, but basically, the idea is: find the plot that fits your character. There should be one that, realistically, they could be included in, and that’s normally the one I’ll go for.

╰⊱♥⊱╮ no. one: changing canon

IF SOMEONE DIES, THEY DIE.

That is the one rule. I think it’s wrong when fanfics reverse canon in that way. I don’t like it when fanfic writers don’t make a character die, when they’re supposed to, because they like the character. They died for a reason.

... But, having said that, there is one exception:

If the death was badly done, or because of your plot changing canon a little it can’t actually happen -- but they’re going to die later, instead.

But. In terms of changing canon that isn’t so... important, I think that as long as you’ve got a reason for it, then go for it. At the end of the day, view your fic as it’s own story -- if you need to change canon a little bit, to help further your plot, then do it. If you need your character to, I don’t know, kill Dumbledore, or something, and you need to do it to help further your plot, do it. I am giving you permission to make things interesting and switch canon up.

Don’t stray away too much, but if it’s every so often, what’s the harm? If anything, it’s fun and exciting for readers to see that this fic’s a little bit different.

For example: I have a Peter Parker fic, but, since I know I write better with fantasy elements (by this I mean witchcraft over science fiction) the main character Isabelle’s plot lines, such as her villains and her powers, are all based within mythology rather than science fiction. I know I write fantasy better, so I’ve tweaked it so that the main focus is my strength, rather than science, which isn’t! At all!

Same with dialogue. I’d recommend staying close to the books, or the films, but sis the books have the longest conversations. It’s fine to condense conversations, too, or trim them a little. Make sure you’ve got everything there, so the readers know what’s going on -- again, treat it like your own story,, with the idea that unless you have not told the readers something, they will have no knowledge of it (as if they’re reading your fic but have not read the source) -- but if you need to trim, trim. 

I talked about it a little in this ask, which is more on how I write the whole books, but there’s a little bit about conversations, too!

╰⊱♥⊱╮ no. two: writing canon characters realistically

I’ve touched upon this a little in dialogue, with how they speak, but normally if I’m writing a fic, I’ll look on the wiki page about them, so I know about their life and upbringing and such. Sometimes there’s things on there that you don’t think about, and if you’re wriitng with that knowledge, even if you don’t mention it, you know that character better and you’ll be able to write them better!

Speaking of -- if you’re writing a Fred or George fic, there’s a really good essay on Pottermore about the differences between them!!

╰⊱♥⊱╮ no. two point one: writing canon realistically

By this, I mean, writing locations and such like they are in the books. I don’t think any of us will notice if small things are changed, but, what I do if I’m writing during a specific class, or at a specific location (eg Grimmauld Place) I’ll look on the wiki page about that thing, and refer back to it if I’m unsure on anything. Sometimes I make stuff up, but it’s nice to know that if you want to double-check something, you’ve got the page open. (And, you never know when it’ll come in handy!! I had the Grimmauld Place one open and read something about an heirloom the Black family has, and now I can include it in my fic!!)

╰⊱♥⊱╮ five: how i use pinterest

I talked about this mostly in part one, but essentially, I use Pinterest as a means of figuring out how I imagine everything. A lot of the time I find it a lot easier to describe things if I know the specific way I’m deciding to present it, if that makes sense. It really isn’t necessary, but I like to have visuals to look back on.

Basically I’ll make a private Pinterest board, and have different sections for different things. I mentioned I have one for like a character’s wardrobe, and their bedroom, but I’ll show an example of Izzy’s board because it’s come in handy for her fic especially.

So, there are nine boards:

Moroi looks at Izzy’s superhero alter ego, with how she actually looks, and also on things like her powers

Izzy’s outfits and Izzy’s closet look at Izzy’s clothes. Outfits is for specific chapters, closet is for ideas

Izzy’s room is... Izzy’s room. Lol

Oswald penthouse is pretty much different pictures to kind of visualise Izzy’s home, so when I come to writing it I know how to present it

The Monsters has been scribbled out, but basically in that I’ve got pictures of certain creatures and places that will come into play with the villains Izzy faces throughout the story, both the little ones and the Big One. But because it’s literally spoiler city it’s blocked out

Cerberus is Izzy’s dog!! So I made one whilst I was figuring out how I wanted to present him

Marie’s valise is similar to Izzy’s closet, only with Marie (Izzy’s guardian) and her fashion. (Lots of vintage inspired because she’s from that time.)

Mary Immaculate is the section for Izzy’s school. Because I made the place up, I made a section so I know how I’m roughly describing things like the exterior, the interior, even the uniforms with the Blair pictures. Basically it’s just a way of me knowing how I’m going to describe it whenever the scenes take place at the school.

Another example is the Clueless board, which hasn’t been used as much, but like, to be fair, the only reason Izzy’s is so used is because most of it is AU. So.

Here we have:

Briar’s trunk which is Briar’s clothes (all of mine have one similar)

Beauxbatons which is me figuring out how I’m going to describe the school. There’s also a couple textposts about people’s headcanons, and tbh it’s helped out, keeping in mind how other people imagine the school to be like. (This is also super unnecessary but I also did research in the differences between the UK and France!! Did not need to do it at ALL but it’s helpful to know!!)

Carriage is basically me figuring out how the inside of the carriage looks like, same as Beauxbatons only not as much detail into it??

Honestly if you do this, the sections can be super messy if you want, it’s sort of just a way to visualise your fics! I know for me it’s really helped me out!!

╰⊱♥⊱╮ six: more on chapter summaries

OK, so. I like to write chapter summaries because it means that when I get to that chapter, I know what I’m doing. But, there are two type of chapter summaries:

The ones done ages in advance, super in detail, by the time you get to the chapter they don’t make much sense but if you’re familiar with the fic you can figure out what to do with it

The ones that are literally scribbled down before you start writing, so you map everything out. These are the ones I end up doing at the end of stories, because it’s literally a way of me being like “ok so this is in this chapter, so this will be in the next,” and having it all written down so I wont forgot my plan

Normally by the time I get to the end I’ll know how i’m ending it, so I won’t pay much attention to the chapter summaries, but sometimes I’ll super quickly write down what I’m doing so I remember. Also, with first chapters, I sort of always have an idea of what I’m doing, and I’ll just freestyle it, but I’ll show an example of a thought-out chapter summary:

It’s in detail but it’s so messy. Like, it’s difficult to explain it, because in some parts there’s me shortening words to write them faster, also there’s things in quotes because I might include the sentence in the chapter, and also there’s additional notes. (Like, how Briar will be on the train longer than Fleur, in case I mention it in the chapter.) Basically, I write down everything I need to keep in mind, it barely makes sense to anyone but me, but it helps me remember what I’m doing, and that’s the important part.

Also! Since in the fic, the main character’s a werewolf, at the top of the note with the chapter summaries I left a little message to myself about how the full moons will affect her.

Mostly it’s there so I can refer back to it, and it is really helpful. So if there’s anything you wanna keep in mind, you can always leave it at the top of your chapter summaries!! (If you have a lot of stuff, though, I’d recommend making another folder for just notes on planning -- I’ve got one for Morningstar.)

Sooo, it basically has: the monsters, chapter titles, her powers, a Bible verse lol, and then a planned out summary of part one... That I never finished... And instead made a super quick one that I have in another folder on notes, which literally just says when events will take place. (E.g., ‘Lagos,’ then ‘Start of the Bride,’ then ‘Berlin.’ Since I know what’s happening it’s easier just to jot down when they’re going to happen, as a way to remember.)

Then, the other way of summaries is the quick ones. I did this for the end of Holliday Dearest, one of my fics I finished last year, and tbh it helped just as much as a detailed one.

It’s literally the shortest thing ever, but since I knew what was going to happen, I just needed to know which chapter they’d be happening in, it really helped when I was writing it! (I literally think i wrote this on my phone before I went to bed, and like, it was just as useful as a detailed one.)

Chapter summaries really don’t have to be detailed, they just have to remind you of what you’re doing. If there’s stuff you want to include, then write it down, because you never know if you’ll forget, and even if you don’t use that thing in the end, at least you’ve written it down just in case.

For those of you that read my stuff, I didn’t do this for Briar, but then I knew the books well enough to have in mind what was going on. For Blue and Mean Spirits I made sure to write summaries because it’s marauders era, therefore it’s all up to me, basically. I’m not sure if I did one for Bones? But from Go Lightly onwards, I’ve done them for every fic, and it really helps me out!!

That’s everything for part two!! If you have any more questions, let me know!

My wattpad is here and my ko-fi is here, if you’re interested in either!! 💖

[hotforharrison]

Meet & Greet ch 10

Chapter 9 <-- Series Masterlist --> Chapter 11

Pairing: Tom Holland/Reader

Summary: You missed out on a Tom Holland meet and greet, but a stranger, who you are pretty sure is a Tom Holland lookalike, rescues you from your pity party for one.

Word Count: 1,554

Warnings: The usual smut and language

A/N: What happens when I can’t sleep? You get the wonderful gift of porn!

You got out your phone for the first time since you’d met Tom. It was past time to let everyone know you were okay. You had 37 messages.

Your best friend was 22 of them, worried that you’d been abducted and murdered because you hadn’t updated her on what was going on in Europe after you landed.

You replied to the other messages first, reassuring everyone that you were having a good time, but you were busy sightseeing. You hoped they didn’t expect pictures. Maybe you could say your microSD card stopped working.

You then told your best friend that you were watching TV with Tom Holland on his couch.

She didn’t believe you, and you honestly weren’t surprised. It was still a little surreal still even for you.

You turned to Tom. “How do you feel about selfies?”

“You want to take one with me?” he asked.

“My best friend doesn’t think I’m actually sitting here with you.”

He scooted closer to you, and you snapped a quick photo.

You sent it and waited for her response.

It was “holy shit” with about a dozen exclamation points. That pretty much summed up your state of being for the past day.

You spent the next half hour updating her on your adventures so far in London, and thanked her for the post-it note. She wanted a dick pic in return. You immediately shot her down.

After you mentioned The List and how barren it was so far, she had two words to say. Magic Mike. You grinned down at your phone and stole her idea.

You hadn’t realized Tom was watching you, until he asked, “what has you so happy?”

“I thought of something I want to try,” you said, “or really, it’s more of something I want you to do for me.”

“I’m all ears.”

“You dance, right?” you asked, already knowing the answer. You’d seen, and secretly swooned over, the videos.

“Yeah, I dance,” he replied. “You want me to dance with you?”

“No, I want you to dance for me.”

He looked a bit confused.

“I want a striptease,” you clarified.

“I’m not sure how good it would be. Most of the dancing I do is choreographed. Not that I’m not willing, mind you.”

“I’m confident that I’ll like it regardless,” you responded, completely sure of that fact.

“Do you want a lap dance, too?”

“Definitely.” A lap dance hadn’t occurred to you at first, but now that it did, the answer was a resounding ‘sign me up.’ “Am I allowed to touch the dancer?”

“Nope,” he replied with a smirk, “but the dancer can touch you.”

“That’ll be hard.” You wanted to get your hands on him at every opportunity.

“Something will definitely be hard,” he agreed.

You laughed. “Do you have any songs in mind?”

“Hmmm…” He spent a moment in quiet contemplation. “I do.” He got out his phone. “Let me set up a playlist.”

“We’re doing this right now?” you asked.

“Do you have anything better we could be doing?” he pointed out.

“No,” you replied honestly, trying to peek at his phone to see what he selected.

He turned away from you. “It’s a surprise.”

While he worked on the playlist, you sent a message to your best friend that Tom was going to do a striptease and a lap dance for you. She was jealous. You would’ve been jealous, too, if your roles were reversed. Your life was the best.

“Okay. I’m going to go change now,” he announced.

You heard his closet door open, and waited impatiently on the couch as long minutes passed.

He eventually returned wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a button down shirt that wasn’t buttoned up. It hung slightly open, revealing hints of his pecs and abs underneath. You definitely approved.

He pushed the coffee table out of the way, opening a space up in front of where you were seated on the couch. Then, he started the playlist on his phone, and sat it down on the table. You recognized the first song as ‘Gimme More’ by Britney Spears.

He gyrated his hips to the beat of the music and let his shirt slip further open in small increments, exposing more and more smooth skin and hard muscle. You couldn’t look away. He shrugged it off and tossed it at you with a grin. You caught it and dropped it on the couch beside you.

His hands now ran over his bare chest and stomach, hips still working to the beat. You could see the bulge straining against the front of his jeans as he watched you watching him. You were relieved that he was getting off on this, too.

He slowly popped the button of his jeans and unzipped them, bending over tantalizingly as he took them off. He picked them up off the floor, and tossed them at you, too. You caught them and placed them on top of the shirt.

You noticed that wasn’t wearing boxers this time. No, he was wearing a thong that barely contained his erection. He continued to dance, ghosting his hands over his hard cock now, in addition to his chest and stomach.

You didn’t recognize the next song, another club track with a thumping beat. You honestly didn’t care. The show was so much better than the music.

He stalked toward you, like a predator approaching his prey. It was a huge turn-on. He continued to gyrate his hips to the music, only this time his hard cock was mere inches from you. When he moved his hips near your face, you started to salivate, desperate to call off the lap dance and get your mouth on him again.

His hands ran over you lightly, teasing you through your clothes. You wished you were naked, too, yearning for his fingers against your bare skin again.

His cock occasionally brushed against you, and it took all the self-control you had not to stop him and wrap your hand around it. You were definitely going to have to change your panties after this was over.

Without realizing it, you had started squirming on the couch. Arousal had short-circuited your brain, and you no longer cared that you were still a little sore.

Tom suddenly muttered “fuck it,” and dropped onto the couch, his knees spreading your legs to make space for him in-between. You wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer. Your teeth clacked together when his mouth met yours in a wet and desperate kiss. Your fingers dug into his back when he started rubbing his erection against your pussy through your leggings.

He eventually broke the kiss, breathing hard. “Fuck, I can feel how wet you are through your trousers.”

“Please, I need you,” you begged.

“I won’t hurt you,” he responded firmly.

“I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t cum soon,” you insisted.

He was obviously torn. “Okay, but you only get my mouth.”

You unwrapped your legs from around him and scrambled to get out of your leggings and panties, almost kicking him in the process.

He slid his knees down onto the floor. You quickly threw your legs over his shoulders and almost scooted all the way off the edge of the couch while you were trying to grant him easier access. He didn’t make you wait, or tease you, immediately lapping at your clit with his tongue.

It took scant seconds before your orgasm hit you hard. You dug your heels into his back and rocked your hips against his face. He continued to work you over with his tongue until your orgasm subsided, and your body relaxed again. He pulled back from where he’d been buried between your legs, sucking in a harsh breath.

“Did I almost suffocate you?” you asked, mortified.

“It was worth it,” he replied, beaming up at you.

He wiped his hand off on the discarded pair of jeans from his striptease.

You were confused. “But you didn’t use your hand on me?”

“No, I used my hand on me,” he explained. “I told you before that I get off on getting my partner off.”

“I didn’t think you meant it literally. Thank you, by the way. You’re so good at that. You get another five star review on Yelp,” you said, still floating on a cloud of residual pleasure.

He chuckled. “But I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, I’m fine. Still a little sore, but you didn’t make it any worse,” you responded. “I should probably be good to go again tomorrow.”

He climbed back up to his feet, a bit unsteady at first. He pushed his discarded clothes onto the floor and sat down on the couch next to you. His bare thigh pressed against yours.

You looked over at him, obviously checking him out from head to toe. “You shouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes,” you decided.

He chuckled. “I’m not sure everyone would appreciate that.”

You started running your finger up and down his thigh absentmindedly. “I would appreciate it, though. How are you so pretty? It’s unfair.”

“I think you’re a little biased.”

“Me and half the internet.”

He smiled. “Hardly half the internet.”

“You’re right,” you conceded. “Maybe two-fifths.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he commented, “but I like it.”

Tag list: @drown-me-before-dema-does @tom-hollands-blog @tylers-ankles-beebos-forehead @moorehollandplz @delicatepeterparker @thollandss @musicalburrage @captainbuckyy

[bi-bi-richie]

The Stars and the Moon, He Hung Them Just For You ( 7 / 12 )

“Wow yourself,” Eddie said with a dreamy sigh in his voice. “I missed you.”

“You miss me after a night?” Richie chuckled a little, he almost didn’t believe that, but he never doubts Eddie. Eddie and his unfamiliar, addicting touch and perfect everything. He believes it. He believes anything Eddie would say to him.

“What can I say? You’re addicting,” Eddie whispers

Playlist - Ao3

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 10 - 11 - 12 

Tag list

@ra-ra-rasputine @eddie-kas @reddie-boi

Quick note - Sorry this chapter took so long to get out! My baby sister was recently born and I really focused all my attention on her, obviously. But I’m back and I will be updating regularly!

Walking into work shouldn’t be much different than any other normal day. In fact, everything is exactly the way he left it the past Friday. The building was in the same order as before, the same people were clocking in for their shifts and even leaving for their early lunch break. To any normal person, this looks like an average day for the museum, and it was! The only reason today was so special was because Richie Tozier was waltzing in with the promise of being able to see his amazingly fantastic new boyfriend. Sure, it had only been a few hours but Richie couldn’t take it! How could anybody suddenly get the cutest boyfriend ever and then not wanna spend every moment of the day with them?

As expected, Richie quickly lost his train of thought the minute he turned the corner and saw perfect Eddie Kaspbrak’s face almost completely slam into his own.

“Shit!” Richie cried out as he stumbled backward before he could collide with him. He felt his face heat up when he met Eddie’s… interestingly slanted eyes.

“S-Sorry, Eds, I-” in an instant, Eddie’s lips were on Richie’s. Richie almost fell straight to the ground with how forceful the sudden kiss was, but he was quick to move his lips right against Eddie’s. Richie felt himself moan into the kiss, after all, it was a damn good kiss. He wonders how Eddie became such a damn good kisser, but something tells him and his ego that he might not want to ask that question.

“Wow,” Richie gasped when they pulled apart, making Eddie let out the precious giggle he loved so much.

“Wow yourself,” Eddie said with a dreamy sigh in his voice. “I missed you.”

“You miss me after a night?” Richie chuckled a little, he almost didn’t believe that, but he never doubts Eddie. Eddie and his unfamiliar, addicting touch and perfect everything. He believes it. He believes anything Eddie would say to him.

“What can I say? You’re addicting,” Eddie whispers before leaning in and pressing their lips against each other one last time. It’s a shorter kiss, but it leaves Richie light in the head and in his step. When they pull away, Richie slides his hand right into Eddie’s and smiles.

“You don’t seem very up to the challenge of having a secret relationship,” he giggles. Truthfully, he thinks it’s cute Eddie can’t keep his hands to himself already, but he’d hate to get caught during their first day dating at work.

“Baby, I can take on any challenge for you.”

…

“Okay, that’ll be $13.45 please,” Richie spoke sweetly to the guest. A month ago he had trouble speaking to them at all, but Eddie’s subtle coaching between customers really made things easier. He can’t truly show Eddie how thankful he is for it, but he guesses he can pay Eddie back in kisses.

Speaking of Eddie, the boy is absolutely lovesick. He rests his head on his right hand and watches Richie hand the woman in front of him her change and acts like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Not that Richie hates it, quite the opposite actually, he just can’t help but think about how he’s doing a poor job of hiding their relationship.

“Have a great time,” Richie tells the guest as they walk past him into the doors that are quick to shut behind her, given that she’s the last customer for the current show time.

“I’m terrible at this, aren’t I?” Eddie asks when he hears the click of the door. Richie throws his head back and barks out a laugh.

“Yeah, but that’s okay,” he promises, sending Eddie a wink that lights both their faces up in a blush.

“I like when you joke,” Eddie admits quietly, taking initiative and walking towards his boyfriend. “It suits you, y’know? Laughing, joking, enjoying yourself. All of it fits you.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, Richie doesn’t think someone’s kind words are being pulled from pure pity. For once, he feels like the words are genuine and he can’t find it in himself to ask if Eddie is lying. Because, why would him, Eddie Perfect-Angel Kaspbrak, lie to Richie?

“You bring it out of me, Eds.”

…

Another show time was starting, which meant another swarm of guests were rushing to get tickets and good seats before it started. Most guests looked the same every time, Richie began to characterize them into groups. First, there’s the tired mom with six-thousand kids that occasionally gets an attitude with him, they’re the worst visitors and often get kicked out for their kid’s rowdy behavior. The next is a split between two different teenagers, the first teenager is the one who is there because they’re genuinely interested in the exhibit and actually likes astrology, Richie likes this teenager. The next is the teenager who openly shits on other people for not getting off their phones and enjoy what’s right in front of them, they’re the same person who brags about reading classic books and hates any other book that isn’t some Shakespearean play they can’t understand. Richie hates that teenager and hates when they talk to him. Another category is a more miscellaneous category, consisting of kids on a field trip or two people on a sweet date (that reminds Richie all too much of that one day in the planetarium with Eddie), they’re probably the better category. Now, Richie’s least favorite category isn’t a category at all, it’s this new regular who only comes in for a few minutes of flirting with Eddie.

Richie hates him.

The guy, Jacob, is back on this particular day, and of course, he’s waiting in Eddie’s longer line even though Richie’s line has half the people in it. Richie feels a little better about hating this guy today because the last time he saw his ugly mug he wasn’t dating Eddie. Well, now Eddie is his boyfriend and he’ll let himself shoot daggers at him.

“Eddie!” Jacob exclaims loudly, making Richie cringe and glare harder. Luckily, he was the last visitor for the show time, so Eddie really only had to get through him so they can start talking again.

“Oh, hi,” Eddie says nicely but with no emotion behind it. Eddie himself may or may not of told Richie that Jacob annoys him, and Richie doesn’t know it but Jacob really only annoyed Eddie because he is head over heels for Richie.

“How have you been? Don’t say fantastic, I mean, you’re still working here,” Jacob laughed as he handed Eddie his money. Richie really hoped none of their bosses were around to hear that, god knows they won’t understand and assume Eddie hates his job.

“Oh, it’s not all bad.” Eddie said, taking money from Jacob’s hand, “I’ve met some pretty fantastic people here.”

Richie looks over and sees Eddie smiling right at his boyfriend, and Richie feels his stomach do flips.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ve met some interesting customers.” Eddie rolls his eyes at Jacob’s remark which makes Richie chuckle. He’s gotta admit, the way Eddie reacts to people makes Richie fall deeper and deeper for his boyfriend.

“You should really join me in the planetarium sometime, Eddie. I mean, you can’t tell me it wouldn’t be nice.”

“I’m working, but thanks,” Eddie says bluntly, handing Jacob his ticket without being kind or gentle.

“Oh, I’m sure your friend here wouldn’t mind.” Jacob insists, looking over at Richie and smirking as if he knows Richie’s into Eddie. Too bad he didn’t know that Richie was literally dating Eddie.

“Your show is starting,” Richie stated calmly, though he felt heat boil in his head and stood taller than Jacob, hoping to intimidate him even if it was cheesy and stupid.

Jacob looked over to Eddie expectantly, but Eddie only nodded his head to the door as a way to send him off. Jacob sighed and dropped his horrible smirk and walked off, leaving the two boys alone and giggling once the door shut.

“God, I hate him,” Eddie said with a smile and walked over to his boyfriend to pull him into a hug. Richie giggled a little more and wrapped his arms around Eddie’s smaller body.

“Me too, he’s lucky I didn’t kiss you right in the middle of that.” Eddie barks out a laugh and nods his head, Richie feels so lucky to hear his laughs and giggles again. He loves them so much.

Maybe he loves something else too.

Or, maybe someone.

[chappell-roans]

1 & 25 (except change 2017 to 2019)

1. three songs that come up when you put your phone on shuffle

I actually don’t have any music on my phone...I always use Spotify, but I’ll shuffle my biggest playlist and do those. Sorry it won’t be as accurate but it’ll def be random, it’s just a bunch of radio-friendly stuff lol. The first was “Black Dog” by Led Zeppelin, then “Hundred” by The Fray and “Glory and Gore” by Lorde. Nice.

25. three favourite songs of 2019

Wow...should I just go with songs released in 2019? I think that’ll make it easier, but if u want like most listened to overall lmk. I think I’d have to say all of Lover by Taylor Swift (but can I cheat and say especially “Cruel Summer,” “The Archer” and “Death by a Thousand Cuts”???), “No Plan” by Hozier and I’m truly bad at this maybe “Crash My Car” by COIN??? Those are the ones off the top of my head.

let’s talk music

[echoes-of-realities]

be my fire in the cold (and I'll be waiting by the mistletoe) - 14/25

* * *

[From the Start] // [Fanfiction] // [ao3]

[Previous Chapter] // [Next Chapter]

Chapter Summary: Santana invites Brittany to go with her today; Brittany learns a little bit more about Santana, and finds herself hard pressed to hide that she’s definitely falling in love with her.

Notes: This is for the people that have a hard time around the holidays because they’re missing people, or something fell apart for them, or went through something life changing, because as much as I absolutely love Christmastime, I’m missing lots of people in my life and it always gets hard around this time. This is the second Christmas without my grandma, and it’s hard to remember that she’s never going to kick my ass in a game of crib; it’s been thirteen Christmases since my dad left and even if it doesn’t hurt anymore it’s so weird to me; and the my sister is facing the possibility of another tumour. So believe me when I say that I know that this time of year can be Hard when your missing people or going through something difficult, but it’s also the only time of year all fourteen members of my family—and whatever other stragglers and dogs we drag in from the cold—are all in the same town long enough to spend time together eating too much food and trash talking each other during games of cards, so I still love it more than any other time of year.

So to those who are missing loved ones at the table this year, to those whose lives changed drastically, to those who suffered failure after failure, and to those who’ve faced so much pain that they didn’t think that they’d ever get through, but still did; this is to say that I know the holidays can be hard this time of year, but that you’re loved and you deserve to let yourself be happy.

It’ll get easier as the years go by, I promise.

Chapter 14: but somewhere in winter misery

///

It’s Brittany’s phone ringing that wakes her up, and she rolls over with a grunt and blindly gropes her bedside table until she locates the annoying loud and annoyingly bright object and squints at it. The sun’s up, but only technically, and her phone casts her dim room in too much light, but the picture of Santana laughing that Brittany had snuck last week greets her and every ounce of annoyance in her body melts away.

She quickly swipes her thumb across the screen, fumbling a couple times to get it to respond, before raising it to her ear. “Hi,” she mumbles, sinking back into her pillow, the dark wrapping around her like another heavy blanket.

“Hey,” Santana greets quietly, “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Brittany debates lying, but she’s pretty sure Santana would somehow know. “Yeah, but it’s fine.”

“Sorry,” Santana mumbles.

There’s a long moment of silence as they just breathe together, long enough that Brittany pulls her phone from her ear to make sure it’s still connected; as soon as she processes the date at the top of her screen her heart clenches and she’s suddenly wide awake. “You okay?” Brittany whispers.

Santana hesitates a little before she answers. “I’ve been better, obviously. But, uh, honestly? I think I might be. Getting there, at least.” She’s quiet for a moment, and when she continues speaking Brittany can hear the small smile in her voice. “Talking to you about her yesterday helped. A lot, actually.”

“I’m glad,” Brittany says earnestly. “It was really cool to hear you talk about her. She sounds like she was amazing.”

“Yeah,” Santana says simply, “She really was.”

Brittany hums and waits for Santana to continue. She knows Santana called her for a reason, and Brittany’s content just to patiently wait.

“Listen,” Santana says, and there’s movement on the other end as fabric shifts and scratches together, “I was wondering if you wanted to maybe come with me today? To, um— To visit her grave.” Before Brittany can even blink, Santana’s already rambling on, breathlessly and nervously; it sounds like she might be pacing. “I mean— I just— You don’t have to, you know, if you don’t want to. You just— You make me feel calmer and like— I dunno I just feel more settled or whatever but you— I mean I— Just forget I—”

“Santana,” Brittany interrupts and Brittany can hear the click of teeth as Santana snaps her mouth closed, “I’d love to go.”

Santana sucks in a sharp breath. “Really?” she asks shyly.

“Of course,” Brittany says softly, “If it’s important to you, it’s important to me too.”

“Cool,” Santana whispers, but Brittany can hear the small smile in her voice.

“What time? And where do you wanna meet?”

There’s more shifting of fabric, and it sounds like Santana’s sat down. She wonders if she’s on the couch or in her bed, if she slept well last night, if Brittany should have done more than give her a hug when they left the theatre yesterday. “Um. The show’s at eight tonight,” she deliberates aloud, “and we’ve gotta be there around two. And it’s a bit of a trip to the cemetery, and I uh— I always stop to get lunch at this café in the neighbourhood, if— If you want to, I mean.”

“I’d love to,” Brittany says quietly.

“Okay,” Santana continues on a breathy sigh of relief, and Brittany smiles a little because Santana’s so soft and bashful and adorable when you really get to know her, “So meet me at my apartment at ten then? That’ll give us plenty of time.”

“I’ll see you then,” Brittany promises.

“Bye, Britt,” Santana murmurs, “And— Thanks. For coming with me.”

“Of course. Bye,” Brittany says softly, waiting until Santana’s hung up before she sighs, high and dreamy.

Brittany allows herself a little bit to lay there and stare up at the ceiling before forcing herself to sit up, stumbling through her room until she makes it to the door. She can hear Mercedes in the kitchen making coffee and singing along to the speakers. She’s been listening to some Spotify playlist of Christmas songs for the last couple weeks now, and today is starting out with some Coldplay as Brittany emerges into the kitchen.

“Morning,” she calls softly, not wanting to startle Mercedes.

It doesn’t work, because Mercedes jumps and almost throws the spoon she’s using to stir her coffee across the kitchen as she spins around. “Brittany,” she shrieks, “You just about gave me a damn heart attack.”

Brittany scrunches her face up in apology. “Sorry, I was trying to avoid that. But you know what they say about heart attacks.”

“Jeez,” Mercedes says breathlessly, clutching her chest. “At this point if I loved you anymore I’d need a casket.”

Brittany winces a little. It’s not like Mercedes would ever know why that hits a little close to home today, so she just heads further into the kitchen. She figures she can have a cup of coffee and maybe a bowl of cereal before she gets ready.

“What are you doing up so early?” Mercedes asks once she’s finally regained her composure and Brittany’s already shoved a coffee cup under the Keurig.

“I’m meeting up with Santana,” Brittany explains, sniffing the milk before she starts pouring it into her cereal. She sets it up on the kitchen island in front of her usual stool with a spoon before exchanging the milk for the coffee creamer.

Mercedes’ face splits into a wide smirk and she nudges Brittany with her elbow. “Really?” she says suggestively. “You’re meeting with Santana?”

“Yeah,” Brittany says simply. She turns to grab her coffee from underneath the Keurig when Mercedes’ gentle hand on her arm stops her.

“Hey,” she says softly. “Is everything okay? You’re really quiet this morning. And usually you’re a blushing mess when I mention Santana.”

Brittany hesitates because, while this is her very best friend and she trusts her with everything and she knows Mercedes would never say a word, she doesn’t want to betray Santana’s trust. “Everything’s fine,” she says slowly, trying to keep her explanation really vague, “But it’s just— Santana asked me to go with her to do something really personal and she’s really sad about it.”

Mercedes is quiet for a long moment, searching Brittany’s eyes before she finally smiles softly. “I get why you aren’t telling me everything,” she says, “But can I offer some advice?”

Brittany nods quickly.

“Take some flowers,” Mercedes suggests.

Brittany blinks, wondering how in the world Mercedes could even know that she had been quietly debating whether or not it was appropriate to bring flowers for Santana’s mom. Instead, she just wraps Mercedes in a hug and murmurs her thanks into her hair.

Mercedes holds her tightly for a moment before releasing her with a playful poke in Brittany’s stomach. “Now hurry up and eat before your cereal gets soggy.”

Brittany gasps and glances over at her bowl, only to find that it’s definitely too late. “Damnit,” she mutters, and Mercedes just giggles beside her.

///

The air is freezing when she steps out of her apartment, the cold instantly taking her breath away and burning the inside of her nose. A thin layer of white covers the city and her breath mists in front of her face in tiny clouds, dissipating even before she can walk through it. She shoves her hands deep into her pocket and heads in the direction of Santana’s apartment, looking for the small florist shop that Mercedes found for her while she showered.

When she finds it, tucked between a hair salon and a thrift store, the shop is empty, but the bell above the door prompts someone to call “I’ll be with you in a moment!” from the back.

Brittany wanders the shop, more than a little overwhelmed by all the choices and colours, flowers she can barely recognize let alone name and every single combination of colours she could ever imagine. She scans rows and rows of flowers, each more beautiful than the last, until she spots a bouquet tucked away behind a bunch of others; it’s nowhere near as big as the others around it, in fact it’s kind of small, but that’s what catches her attention. There’s so many flowers she doesn’t recognize, but it’s the blue forget-me-nots spotting the white carnations and the gladioli that catches her eye. She carefully extracts it from the others and fingers the petals of a cluster of forget-me-nots. She already knows it’s perfect, but she carefully inspects the flowers to make sure, before heading to the cash register just as the florist exits the back.

“Sorry about that,” he says, dusting his hands on his apron. “I see you’ve already found something.”

Brittany just nods and hands the bouquet over, digging through her jacket pocket to find her wallet.

“Flowers for a special someone?” the florist says suggestively as he rings the bouquet up. “Twenty-nine ninety-nine.”

Brittany fumbles for a moment before shrugging. “For her mom, actually,” she clarifies as she holds up her debit card. The florist hits a button on the cash register and Brittany waits for the debit machine to respond.

“Ah,” he says knowingly, “Meeting the in-laws then.”

“Something like that,” Brittany agrees vaguely, punching in her pin and forcing herself not to take out her card too early as she is wont to do.

The florist must sense something in Brittany’s answer because he studies Brittany for a long moment before smiling a little. “Well, if you’re nervous I know this will make a good first impression,” he says, handing the bouquet, now slipped into protective plastic, and the receipt over, “But the only thing that really matters is that they know you’re making their little girl happy.”

Brittany flusters, and a part of her wants to explain everything; that her and Santana aren’t actually— That they’re not— At least not yet—

She wants to explain that she won’t be showing up to Santana’s mom’s house with a bottle of wine and a desperate hope that she’ll accept Brittany.

She wants to explain that they’re spending the morning out in the bitter cold instead, staring at cold grey when they should be laughing with warm brown eyes.

But instead Brittany just smiles gracefully and takes the bouquet with a murmur of thanks and quietly leaves the store, carefully tucking the bouquet against her jacket to protect the flowers from the winter wind and heading down the street.

///

Santana’s huddled in the lobby when Brittany arrives fifteen minutes early, and she spots Brittany out the window of the front door and quickly hurries to greet her. Brittany’s still on the steps when Santana opens the door, and Santana’s small smile of greeting falters at the sight of the flowers in Brittany’s arms, the door swinging shut behind her with a resolute thud. Brittany flusters and chews on her lip, her blush burning her cheeks even more fiercely than usual because her skin is so cold. “I—” she starts and then breaks off when Santana’s smile comes back, somehow softer and more tender than Brittany’s ever seen.

“Is that for my mom?” she whispers.

Brittany searches for her voice but finds it curled up somewhere deep in her chest so she just nods wordlessly.

Santana’s eyes catch on hers, melting and liquid and deep like molasses. She closes the distance between them, her hand landing on Brittany’s ice cold one where it cradles the stems of the flowers. She’s taller than Brittany for once, standing at the top of the stairs and Brittany still a couple steps down, and Brittany nearly stops breathing as Santana leans down, her face drawing impossibly closer to hers.

Brittany’s heart pounds so fast she thinks she might be having a heart attack.

Santana’s lips are achingly soft as they brush over Brittany’s numb cheek, burning Brittany’s skin with their warmth and waking up every single nerve ending until they’re all tuned to Santana, and Brittany gasps at the gentle pressure. When Santana draws back, she’s still smiling softly, her eyes melting and liquid and deep.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

Brittany’s voice, as well as most coherent thought, remains lost somewhere deep inside her, so she just nods dumbly. Santana’s smile widens a little and she steps down beside Brittany, nodding down the street. “If we hurry we can catch the next train,” she says.

Brittany trails after Santana and tries to gather her scattered thoughts, but when Santana shoots her a shy smile over her shoulder Brittany realizes she’s probably never going to collect them ever again, and she’s kind of okay with that.

///

The café is tiny and its doorway is tucked around the corner, but it’s warm and homey inside and Brittany’s legs immediately start prickling painfully as they’re exposed to the wave of warmth in the café.

Santana gasps beside her. “God that feels nice,” she says, turning her face up to the heater above the doorway.

Brittany stomps the snow off her boots and blows quick puffs of hot air into her one hand, her other arm occupied with cradling the flowers. “It hurts,” she whines.

Santana smiles at Brittany. “Let me buy you a coffee then,” she offers, “It’ll warm you up.”

Brittany tips her head to the side, squinting and scanning the menu hanging above the front counter. She bounces up on the balls of her feet, the burning in her thighs forgotten as she reads the options; she reaches over and grabs Santana’s arm with a wide grin. “Can I try the caramel hot chocolate instead?” she asks excitedly, “I haven’t had one in forever.”

Santana smiles and agrees. There’s a couple people scattered around the café, but no one in line so Santana steps right up to the counter. A college aged kid is dancing a little as he cleans the counter, his back to them and large headphones around his neck, singing quietly under his breath, his voice smooth with just a hint of a growl. Santana whistles to get his attention and he jolts at the sound, spinning around with an embarrassed and wide-eyed look. He relaxes as soon as he sees Santana and his face ripples as he tries to adopt a stern look around his grin. “You’ve gotta stop doing that,” he grumbles.

Santana just smirks at him, completely unapologetic. “Maybe you need to stop blasting that noise you call music through your headphones when you’re working, Mr. Full Ride Music Scholarship,” she teases.

The kid’s eyes roll before sliding to take in Brittany and the flowers and snapping back to Santana, his eyes close to bulging as his jaw slackens a little, parting full lips. “A caramel hot chocolate and a café con leche,” Santana says before the kid can even say anything, and as Brittany glances at Santana out of the corner of her eye she can see the slight flush to her cheeks.

The kid seems to notice this too and smirks but doesn’t push Santana further. “Names for the drinks?” he asks playfully.

“I Used to Hold Your Hand to Cross the Street and None of Your Business,” Santana snarks.

The kid’s smirk turns a little wicked and his eyes slide back to Brittany. “That’s a little long,” he says with barely contained seriousness, “Do you go by nicknames?”

“Watch it or I’ll—”

“Brittany and Santana,” Brittany interrupts. Santana looks at Brittany with exaggerated betrayal but Brittany just bumps her hip against Santana’s until her face creases into a dimpled smile.

“How much?” Santana asks as she turns back to the kid, digging her wallet out of her jacket pocket.

“On the house,” the kid says easily.

Santana seems to know better than to argue, so she just grins her thanks and ushers Brittany to the pick-up counter.

“So how do you know about this place?” Brittany asks.

“It was mami’s favourite café,” Santana explains, giving a warm smile as she glances around the café before meeting Brittany’s eyes, her voice lifting with rehearsed cheer, “Best café con leche in the whole damn city.” It sounds both quoted and comfortable, and Brittany wishes, not for the first time, that she got a chance to meet the woman who raised Santana.

“It’s cute,” Brittany says softly. Santana beams at her and shifts a little until their arms press together and doesn’t make any move to pull away.

“Roderick’s dad owns the café,” Santana explains, nodding at the kid as he starts making their drinks, “I’ve been coming here since we moved to the city and Roderick was still a dorky kid in elementary school. Now he’s just a dorky kid in his first year of college.”

“Hey!” Roderick protests, pointing an accusatory finger at Santana, the tea towel in his hand swinging lazily between them across the counter, “I resent that.” Santana sticks her tongue out at Roderick, who sticks his tongue out right back as his face twists in a mock sneer, much to the horror of the old woman who just stepped up to the cash register. Roderick flushes at being caught making fun of a customer, and abandons Santana and Brittany’s drinks to take the old woman’s order.

“I used to babysit him sometimes,” Santana continues. “When we first moved here my mom only worked a point eight, and we were kinda struggling to make ends meet. But she came in here one day for a coffee and her and Roderick’s father got to talking, and he ended up hiring her part-time while we got our footing in the city, so I spent a lot of time here doing homework or whatever. In exchange for free coffee I’d babysit Roderick a couple times a week.”

Brittany’s lips curl up in a smile as she glances at Roderick, who now dwarves Santana in stature. “That’s cute,” she says honestly.

Santana laughs. “He was a good kid. Just don’t tell him I said that.”

Brittany smirks. “You’re cute when you’re pretending you’re not, like, the biggest softie,” she observes.

Santana instantly flusters, ducking her head down to hide her dimples. “Oh, shut up you,” she mumbles.

Brittany just grins and resists the urge to wrap Santana, blushing face and all, into a tight hug; the flowers in her arms would make hugging her difficult and help her resist the urge, though not by much.

///

They end up having a second cup of coffee and hot chocolate together, sharing a pastry as they people watch. Santana talks about her mom a little more, and Brittany notices its with more nostalgia than pain, but mostly they just enjoy the other’s company outside of the theatre, complaining about the show and the company and making fun of people passing on the street and sitting a little too close to be entirely friendly.

They linger in the café for perhaps longer than they should, because they’ll probably end up being a little late to the theatre depending on how long they spend at the cemetery, but Brittany can’t find it in herself to regret it as they stand to leave. Before Santana can, Brittany quickly grabs her jacket off the back of her seat and helps her into it, feeling even more couple-y than she has all day doing couple-y things with her. Santana smiles, dimples deep and nose scrunched, up at Brittany as she slips her arms into her jacket before winding her own scarf around her neck while Brittany grabs the flowers off the table. Santana takes their dirty cups to the bucket of dirty dishes by the napkins and spices and lids while Brittany trails after her to the door.

Roderick stops them before they leave to pull Santana into a tight hug; Santana protests and rolls her eyes, but as soon as she’s wrapped in his embrace she softens. “My dad wishes he could have been here to see you today too but he’s got some business meeting he couldn’t get out of,” he whispers, and Brittany quickly averts her eyes, feeling a little bit like an intruder. “He’s missed you.”

Santana sighs into Roderick’s shoulder. “I missed him too, both of you. I just—”

“I know,” Roderick interrupts quickly. “We get it, but you should stop by more often.” Roderick’s eyes slide to Brittany over Santana’s shoulder and he gives her a shy smile. “I’m sure my dad would love to meet Brittany.”

Brittany doesn’t need to see Santana’s face to know it’s breathless and flushed and too bright, because she can feel a blush crawling hotly along her own cheeks and down into her neck. Roderick gives Santana one more squeeze before letting her go and Brittany and Santana’s eyes catch briefly before averting as they both laugh breathlessly, blushing furiously, and leave the café.

Santana turns left as soon as they’re on the sidewalk, the bitter cold stealing the air from their lungs and the gently falling snow dusting Santana’s hair like stars in a night sky, silent for half a block before they both start talking at once.

“I’m sorry about that—”

“It’s fine, really I—”

“They’ve just never met anyone I—”

“They seem really nice—”

“They’re going to be super embarrassing—”

“I’d really like to meet Roderick’s dad now too—”

They both pause in their rambling and meet each other’s eyes before bursting into giggles, both of their cheeks pink with more than the cold. “Really?” Santana says, unable to hide the pleased and hopeful gleam to her eyes.

“Totally,” Brittany promises, chewing on her lip for a moment. “I have a feeling they have all kinds of embarrassing teenage Santana stories,” she teases.

“Oh god,” Santana groans, burying her face in her hands, “I can’t believe that slipped my mind.”

Brittany nudges Santana with her elbow. “Hey,” she says softly, waiting until Santana’s peaking at her from behind her hands, “I don’t want to know those stories because they’re embarrassing, I want to know them because they’re what made you you, and I want to know everything about you.”

Santana’s hands drop from her face and she shakes her head softly at Brittany, her expression unbelieving, her smile soft and sweet enough that Brittany’s heart starts to ache with how beautiful Santana is and how much she really, really, really likes being around her. Neither of them look away until they almost run straight into another couple walking down the sidewalk, and they both laugh a little as they finally look away and focus on walking. They’re mostly quiet as Santana leads them through the neighbourhood, occasionally exchanging soft smiles or guiding the other out of the way of another pedestrian with a gentle hand on the small of their back.

They turn a corner and Santana’s sucks in a sharp breath. Brittany follows her gaze until she spots the sign above the cemetery, high above the neighbourhood and easily seen even from blocks away, and Brittany’s chest clenches.

“Sometimes I just can’t believe she’s gone,” Santana suddenly mumbles, “That I can’t just call her up and tell her about whatever dumb thing happened at the theatre, or that she won’t ever call me to complain about what drunk patient she had to deal with. That I haven’t heard her ringtone in four years. That I have to visit her at a cemetery now and I can’t just show up unannounced at our old apartment in Washington Heights because someone else has moved in— Has lived there for years,” Santana corrects. Santana’s silent for a long time, studying the ground as they walk. She finally sucks in a shuddering breath and glances up at Brittany, giving her a tiny smile, her eyes both warm and heartsick. “I just miss her,” she says simply.

Brittany doesn’t know what to say, so she just gives Santana a soft smile and makes a small acknowledging sound, which seems to be the right move because Santana just smiles back and presses closer to Brittany as they near the cemetery in silence.

Santana slips her hand into Brittany’s as soon as the iron wrought gate comes into view. Brittany sucks in a sharp breath before breathing it out in a puff of white, glancing down at Santana only to find Santana already staring up at her. Her brown eyes are a little pained, but mostly they’re soft and adoring as she looks up at Brittany. “She would have liked you, you know,” Santana says with a small smile.

Brittany’s pretty sure her heart stops beating; she definitely stops breathing, and her mind kind of goes a little haywire at the words. Santana’s told her all about what an amazing woman her mom was, and the idea that she— That Santana’s mom— That she would have—

“Really?” she manages on a gasp.

Santana nods and squeezes Brittany’s fingers where they’re tangled with her own. “You make me happy,” she says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, and Brittany supposes it kind of is.

She sighs and melts and smiles softly at Santana. “I wish I could have met her,” she admits quietly, “But I kind of feel like I already have, in the way you talk about her. And how you are, because she raised you.” They draw to a stop in front of the gate, the snowy grass crunching beneath their feet. She turns to Santana, tugging gently on their clasped hands until Santana is facing her. “But, I still would have loved to meet her. Because you make me happy too. And I think,” she pauses for a moment, gathering her thoughts because this is important and she wants to make sure she gets it right, “I think that she would have liked to know that. Not just that there’s someone that makes you happy, but that there’s someone who you make happy too. That— That you can share your happiness with someone.”

Santana’s smile widens a little as she ducks her head. “She definitely would have liked you,” she mumbles, glancing up at Brittany from beneath her eyelashes. “I’m glad you came with me today,” she admits, “This year feels less— Absolute, I guess, that she’s gone. I— This is the first year that I haven’t felt like there’s this empty, aching hole in my chest and I— I’m just really glad you’re here.”

Brittany tugs gently on Santana’s hand until she’s falling into Brittany’s body, their thick jackets scratching together as Brittany wraps her free arm around Santana and pulls her into the cradle of her body, the flowers falling somewhere by Santana’s shoulder blade. Santana sighs into the collar of Brittany’s jacket, tightening her own arm around her waist, the fingers of their other hands still hopelessly tangled. “I’m really glad I’m here too,” Brittany whispers into the dampness of Santana’s hair, the snow dusted waves cold against her chin even though her chest burns with a gentle warmth.

Santana sighs again as she finally draws back, tightening her grip on Brittany’s hand, as if Brittany would ever actually let go of her. “Come on,” she prompts gently as she leads them to the gate, “Let’s go see her.”

[rkmeiqi-archived]

⭐️ —  sn project: month one, week three  — ⭐️ now playing: shut up and dance by jason derulo, lay (exo), & nct 127

week three should be easy for her—“should” being the key word. and it is. it’s far easier than the week designated for singing, and it’s miles better than the second week that she will, from here on out, never acknowledge ever again. but at the same time, there’s something missing in her. meiqi feels oddly… empty, as if everything she’s ever known was a lie.

she’s never been truly embarrassed, not since the second she was born and, for the longest time, she truly believed she would never feel embarrassed. meiqi doesn’t do embarrassed. she never has anything to be ashamed of. she’s kissed a girl in public for free food; she’s danced in the middle of a coffee shop to break her friend out of his shell; she’s thrown up on someone’s lawn after an intense night of drinking and dancing, and not once has she shied away from the fact that she’s done all of these things.

there’s this weight on her shoulders, pressing down on her and forcing meiqi to feel smaller than she really is. it’s there when she showers and she no longer sings into the shampoo bottle, and it’s there when she’s in a practice room staring at herself in the mirror as she tries to work out how to transition from one move to another. it’s just… always there, always reminding her that she’s a failure and that the worst moment of her life has probably been broadcasted for the millions of people on YouTube who follow or don’t follow nova. anyone can see it.

why does she care so much anyways? meiqi has never minded about what others think of her, so why has she suddenly developed this fear of the public’s perception on her skill set in a position which she knows she will never be in? she’s a dancer. she can sing. she’s pretty. that’s all that should matter.

that word again. “should.” she’s about ready to crack her knuckles against the wall, before realizing that it would not be taken lightly by netizens.

get your mind in a better place, meiqi scolds herself internally, pairing her words of encouragement with a few knocks to her skull. she needs to focus less on what has already happened, and more on what she wants to happen in the future.

originally, meiqi was going to perform a song that she had worked on for a while prior to the sn project announcement. she figured she would just tweak it a little and, since she had never posted videos about it online, that it would work out fine. now, a part of her wonders if she should do something completely new to prove, to herself and the coaches, that she’s worthy of a spot in their future group, that sure, she can’t rap, but they’d be making a huge mistake by overlooking her proficiency in dancing.

her performance on sunday was karma for taking the easy way out. if she doesn’t challenge herself this week, especially as this is her forte, then she’s gone.

finding a new song is the easy part. there are so many songs with funky or experimental beats. meiqi listens to a few on a recommended playlist to let her body get a feel for the vibe that the song exudes, until she settles on a fresh track.

there’s no time to waste, and so meiqi begins her choreography process.

* * *

while she works hard to perfect her choreography, meiqi doesn’t forget to engage the camera. during one of her few self-allowed breaks, she chugs half a bottle of water before approaching one of the cameras. meiqi tilts her head to one side, and then the other, before screwing her face in different ways to produce silly expressions. finally, she settles for pointing at the camera teasingly. “you... are you challenging me to a dance battle?!”

she pretends to beat box as she mimics some b-boying moves with half the energy that’s expected of one. meiqi finishes with a spin that lands her on her tippy toes, laughing to herself before bowing at the camera. she offers it a round of applause. “i think you won, cam.” that sounds cute. maybe that’ll be her nickname for the technology from now on. “let’s get back to practicing!”

* * *

this time, when she steps into the room to face all three coaches, the feeling is different. she’s not scared of messing up, but maybe that’s because she’s been sleeping on the floor in the practice room for the past three days and she wakes up every hour to run through the choreography at least twice to make sure that she has it all down.

it’s fine. meiqi has downed three and a half cans of redbull. she can last for a couple more hours.

she starts with her back towards the coaches, turning slowly with the music before going all out. meiqi can dance this in her sleep (which she has quite literally done, thank you very much). her movements are powerful and precise, and she doesn’t hold back. she’s in her element when it comes to dancing, especially because she’s going for a sexier, more fierce feeling. and this is who she is: not a rapper who forgets the next beat, nor an embarrassed little bitch. she has nothing to be embarrassed about, not today.

well, at least until she’s finished the performance and she can go back to worrying over last week. ah, none of it makes sense.

[creative-frequency]

Connor|RK800 x Reader: Ocularity Ch. 11

Word count: 2440 Warnings/Categories: Eventual mature content, romance, friendship, fluff, light angst, explicit language, uncle Hank Notes: So much for finishing this ch during the holidays, so apologies for the delay. Again. My time off work was actually more stressful than relaxing as a lot of family stuff has been going on recently. Hopefully it’ll even out soon.

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November 2nd 05:43 PM

Your home feels numb and cold as you pace around – a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotion swirling violently inside you. You can’t stop moving, the storm needs an outlet. You’ll drown in it if you stop, so you continue pacing and glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s been two minutes… five… eight… an eternity. Enough time for a proper goodbye but you couldn’t have known.

Markus and Liara are safely gone and hopefully on their way to Jericho – wherever that is. A sense of overwhelming relief is mixed with worry so strong it’s making you feel sick. As soon as you’ve gotten rid of Connor, you can have the much needed breakdown, but until then you need to keep it together.

The doorbell chimes just as you’re pouring the cold cup of coffee into the kitchen sink.

“We need to talk,” Connor declares and practically pushes past you into the vestibule. He doesn’t look you in the eye but instead his head is turning around, eyes rapidly investigating the scene.

“Okay?”

You close the front door and it feels like you just caged yourself in with a lion.

In the matter of seconds, Connor is done with the vestibule and the living room. You follow him, forcing yourself to stay calm even though you can hear your own heartbeats in your ears. Connor is in detective mode and you need to brace yourself. Unless you manage to switch him off from it.

“I’ll go get the pad so we can begin,” you say, reaching for a light tone. “Did Hank show up today?”

“No. He asked me to file his paperwork – which I did – but he never arrived at the station. He wasn’t at Jimmy’s bar either,” Connor explains. His demeanor somewhat relaxes. The LED on his temple is calm.

“I’ll let him know you’re not his personal assistant,” you try joking, but it sounds hollow. Your hands are slightly shaking as you grab the datapad.

Connor nods. “I would appreciate that, Doctor.”

He sits down on the couch, hands resting on his knees, looking at you expectantly. He seems normal and you dare to relax slightly. Maybe he hasn’t noticed anything suspicious after all, despite the inspection after his entering. Maybe there’s nothing to worry about beside your own behavior. Maybe he’s just waiting for you to slip.

Maybe you’re being paranoid and need to calm down and stop thinking about the worst.

“So, umm…” You tap at the pad, opening the checkup sequence and ready the application to run it. It was wiped cleaned of all traces of Markus’s data on the previous day.

“Where is Liara?” Connor asks suddenly as if only realizing she’s not present.

The reaction of surprise is hard to contain and, despite your best efforts, trouble crosses through your features for a flash. You look down at the datapad.

“At the… I don’t know, I gave her away.” You sigh out a wavering breath.

Connor tilts his head and leans forward, now definitely interested in hearing the whole story. “Away?”

“Yeah, she was a prototype of sorts, too. I’m thinking of actually buying an AJ700 – it could better aid me in my research,” you speak whatever comes to your mind, hoping Connor will buy it.

He nods slowly. “Is that why you were acting strangely this morning?”

You blink and can’t think of anything to lie.

“I was… worried?” Connor continues. His eyes dart away. He sounds surprised by his own statement, but not more so than you.

“I… well. I guess.” You shrug as nonchalantly as you can, clutching the datapad in your hands for safety. “I’m sad to see her go, but it is what it is. Just another part of the job.”

“She left yesterday?” Connor looks troubled.

You nod slightly and the crease between his brows deepens.

“Doctor, I can’t help but be worried for your safety. Since the beginning of this deviancy issue, the crime rate in the city has gone up four point fifty-one percent – and it’s constantly growing,” he says while leaning forward to add impact to the words. The tone is intense and clearly upset by your decision to send Liara away now out of all times.

You look at the detective android, utterly dumbfound and head empty of any replies you might use.

Looking after you is definitely not a part of his mission.

“I could stay the night here. For surveillance. You’ll be safe.”

You blink and realize the datapad is slipping from your grasp as the pull of the gravity takes its chance. Spending the night alone with Connor? A terrible idea under any circumstances. Your heart jumps into your throat and you fall too close to a breakdown before regaining control of the storm of emotions.

An inhale does nothing to calm you.

“Um, it’s fine, really. I don’t think you should– I mean, I’ll be fine,” staggering string of words comes out of your mouth. “I can ask someone to come over… or borrow Sumo if that’ll make you feel better.”

Connor tilts his head and leans back. His hands are still resting on his knees. His LED is swirling and you’ve never wanted to swallow so much in your life, but fight the urge to not appear any more suspicious.

“Did you have a guest last night?” Connor’s gaze x-rays straight into your head.

You freeze and by the way you feel the color drain from your face, you’re absolutely certain Connor can see or sense it too. After the fraction of a second, your pulse jumps and you know the jig is up.

“How did you..?” you ask.

Connor nods towards the front door but otherwise stays perfectly still. “There are shoe prints on the vestibule floor. They don’t match your size.”

Fuck.

“Uhm. Yes. I did actually. A friend,” you reply hastily, trying to imply as heavily as possible that Connor should drop the personal topic. There is no way you can come up with a lie about who could’ve been your mystery guest.

“Oh. I see.”

If Connor wasn’t scanning your every bodily function before, he definitely is doing it now. “Were you alone before I arrived?” he asks calmly, back in the detective mode.

Panic starts rapidly gaining territory inside you. Focus on breathing. Appear calm. But it’s easier said than done.

“…Yes. And I don’t think this has anything to do with our scheduled meeting, so–” You lift the datapad. Your hands are shaking. Your throat is dry. Is there a way you can convince the Deviant Hunter there is nothing suspicious going on?

“We should begin,” you say.

Connor looks like he isn’t paying attention to what you’re saying and stands up.

“What’re you doing?” you ask in a tiny voice, eyes following the android’s every motion.

He looks to the side and makes a contemplative expression. “I need to check something.”

Without any further explanation or time for you to react, Connor starts to head towards the stairs with determined steps.

“Wha– now, hold on! Connor? Connor!”

You jump after him even though staying put to appear more natural seems like a better option. The checkup meeting is going as poorly as it can. You’re assured Connor won’t and scared that he will figure out what has happened in your home for the past few days.

There is nothing to–

Connor opens the door to the upstairs bathroom. Where the laundry basket is. Where Markus’s old clothes are. With Thirium on them. Because you’re an idiot and were going to wash them to hide the blue blood traces before getting rid of them. Because you thought it would be more likely for someone to go through your trash than the dirty laundry.

“STOP! You can’t go there!” you yelp in an irrationally panicked tone, breathing labored thanks to running the stairs up three at a time.

Connor’s eyes snap into you. His hand is still on the door handle. “Why not?”

Think, think, think…

“I, uh, I was about to take a shower! There’s uhh, something private I’d prefer you didn’t see.” You mentally facepalm at the stupidity flowing from your mouth. Connor is going to get very weird ideas about your personal life, but it doesn’t matter as long as you’re not getting arrested for helping out deviants.

Connor hesitates and looks at you carefully. Technically, he has no right to do a search around your house and you know that. He would need a warrant, not to mention an actual enforcer of the law, which he is not. Uncle Hank might not be as eager to investigate your home since, as far as you know, you’re not a suspect in any of the ongoing investigations.

Connor lets go of the door, attention fully on you but expression infuriatingly neutral.

“Private?” he asks in a tone that signals you have almost won.

Spurred on by the rush of victory at your grasp, you politely motion him to move towards the stairs and leave the suspicious bathroom alone.

“Yes. Private. I expect the most advanced android ever created to know the meaning of the word.” The exasperated chuckle dries into your throat.

But how did he know where to go? You don’t really want to think about it, but will have to consider it carefully when Connor is miles away. Maybe Thirium traces leave a trail or a scent that is stronger than you knew? Maybe Markus visited the bathroom for some reason before leaving? Or maybe it was just a lucky guess, or something you enabled by panicking?

Then why did he respect your request and stopped going after the trail?

Connor halts at the base of the stairs and turns to look at you. You’re standing a few steps higher, mildly shaking from the excess of anxiousness and exercise.

“They were male shoe prints,” he says resolutely.

The accusing tone slows down the processing of the words. You stare at him, but he still has a painfully neutral expression. He is trying so hard to imply something without actually saying the thing – a notion all too familiar from earlier.

Comprehension clicks inside your head.

“Wait. Is this somehow about Nin– I mean, Detective Reed?” The incredulous voice sounds like it belongs to someone else.

“No,” Connor replies instantly and looks away.

That one simple word sends a flock of butterflies flying in your stomach. It feels like you’re just hovering somewhere by the ceiling, looking down at the impossible scene because it shouldn’t be happening. Ever. And certainly not again.

That stupid worrywart of an android. You can’t have that gentle confusion that makes you feel something so tender it aches. Not the curious, warm brown eyes or the small frown on his perfect lips.

The spiraling is about to start, and you need to hit the brakes.

You make a mental roll on what emotion to pick from the myriad spurring in a spin inside you. Irritation. Hurt. The violated feeling of having your privacy invaded. Most of those emotions are fake, passing flukes that will burn out by one rational thought, but you need something to find the strength to emerge as a winner.

You march past Connor towards the front door in silence, careful not to look at his face or accidentally inhale his dizzyingly sweet scent. The day of kicking androids out of your house isn’t over.

“Whatever is going on between me and Gavin has nothing to do with my work,” you state in a dire tone, hoping that desperation doesn’t seep through the words.

You yank the handle down and push the front door open; a clear invitation for Connor to remove his presence from your home. Your eyes are burning from the suppressed need to cry.

Connor stands still by the stairs but his LED swirls into yellow. He doesn’t even blink. “I know it’s not my place to–”

You lift a hand to silence him. “You know that, so next time maybe remember that too, hm?” Your voice almost breaks and you can’t look at him. You need to get rid of Connor before the storm of repressed emotions breaks out.

“Sorry, Doctor. I’m simply worried about you.” The android pure logic tone. Polite and simple. Stating only the facts. Maddening in the distance it creates in an instant. Even still, the words are heart melting. Something you need to hear so badly right in that moment, but just not from him.

“Thank you. Now, I’d like to get back to work. You should leave,” you say. Your voice is already trembling.

Connor starts walking.

“…As you wish,” he murmurs.

The faint whiff of his scent is all that’s left after the RK800 prototype. You make sure the front door is locked and rush into the living room to close the curtains.

Twice now Connor has exhibited actions that should make you doubt his integrity. It’s impossible to admit it out loud, but you wanted to take those chances he offered – even when you know they might not be intentionally made. The sly invitations to feel something you’ve been yearning for months now are difficult to resist and just thinking about them starts another irregular rhythm of heavy beats inside your ribcage.

Why is Connor so goddamn interested in what’s going on between you and Gavin?

You haven’t even revealed your real names to each other yet or talked in anything else but written form. You’re practically strangers flirting via chat messages. And here you thought you were starting to find some kind of connection with the badmouthed Detective.

You slump onto the floor under the living room’s large windows, back against the wall and bury your head into your arms, resting over your knees. The last few days have been long and mentally exhausting. Carl, Markus… and Liara… All those people you lost on such a short notice. The pain on the surface is sharp and brutal, but there is a deeper underlying agony that keeps pulling your heartstrings worse than anything.

Thinking about what you had with Connor, what you could’ve had or still could, always pops into your head whenever you lay eyes on him. It’s eating you alive.

Maybe you should just give up and quit. Everything would become much easier.

You huff in self-pity.

The dam is starting to crack after the pool of emotions has finally gotten too deep. A couple of dry sobs get through before all the walls come crashing down and you desperately wish Connor is far enough to not hear your breakdown.

Next Chapter

Tagging: @sevansheart @precursor-ao3 @gberryb @owlwrites @lucianhuntress @singlebecauseofthechocobros @bleucommelhiver @sherniwrites @n-ulll @mccastle-boi @toastyfiction @touzokukana @imaginovator @avispate @miettisit @caladheil @lusiifer @shadows-echoes @suffering-bi

[colorisbyshe]

I have been asked for tips for time blindness in the tags. I can’t promise this will work for everyone because there is no “one size fits all” solution for any symptom and it’d be naive to pretend I found the holy grail. A lot of these are just common sense tips that happen to work for me but may need to be modified for you.

Top tip is genuinely just make your life as much of a routine as possible. Go to sleep at the same time, go to bed at the same time; eat, work, shower at the same time. When your life has a series of constants in it, it’s much easier to slot additional experiences in and understand what time they’re consuming and when they’ll be

How do you get to doing things at the same time? Constant fucking alarms, reminders, and notes. I get a notification every single day at the same time to brush my teeth. This keeps me from forgetting to brush my teeth but also serves as a reminder of where I should be in my get ready for the day routine. If brushing my teeth is the last thing I do before leaving and I’m meant to do it ten minutes from now, that’s a reminder to stop laying about and get dressed, brush my hair, etc..

Write notes in places you’ll actually see. I write emails to myself cause I often check my email for other things. If I’m checking my email to see if my purchase went through and happen to see “HEY DIPSHIT, PICK UP GROCERIES ON YOUR WAY HOME,” I can throw an alarm onto my phone that’ll go off as I go to my car reminding me about groceries.

And the second biggest one is… lie to yourself. If you need to be at a concert at 6pm, I don’t care if it “only” takes 15 minutes to get to the venue—tell yourself it takes 30 and you need to be in your car by 5:25 in case you get in your car and remember you forgot something inside. This may feel like you’ll be chronically early but it averages out to being chronically sort of on time.

Not necessarily time blindness tips but general adhd stuff: Assume tasks will take longer than they will, be open programming in “breaks” in between but be strict about how long those breaks will be (like if you’re putting away laundry, maybe put on your fave playlist and half way through you’re allowed a break but ONLY for one song), and also be open to a sort of high priority, low priority way of living. If life is juggling a million balls at once, know which balls are okay to drop and which ones have to stay in the air. It’s okay to not get everything done or to leave some stuff half finished. But if it’s time sensitive, put it first, do it first. Maybe do half of it one day and the other half another, but put it on High Priority.

TL:DR: Alarms are your best friend. Give yourself more time than you think you need. Take breaks. And learn to prioritize and make routines.

A lot of this is common sense and I’m sure you have tried them before. Try again. Keep trying. Don’t let failure deter you. One bad day, many bad days don’t have to make your good days worse. The good days are worth the effort.

i remember when someone was complaining about their partner being late for shit allll the time and someone was like ‘oh they MUST have adhd and they just can’t help it,’ so i was like ‘hey, yeah, i have adhd, i get this, here are some things other people with adhd can do to help with this problem’

and like five different people just went ‘um time blindness is REAL and you must just not have a severe enough case :/ but there’s no fixing this’

and it’s just…….. is this how we beat ableism? by just pretending that we aren’t in control of our actions at all?

that instead of having conversations about maybe offering more leeway and empathy for people’s struggles while ALSO equipping people with better tools to help themselves

we’re just gonna go ‘yeah, actually, neurodivergent people are wholly incapable of personal will and are ruled by their neurodivergence and can’t be expected to help themselves or other people in any way.’

like i get that some things are truly harmless or truly cannot be helped but… some things… can be worked on. maybe not “cured” or “fixed” but like… worked on. and maybe we should make that info more accessible rather than pretending like its ableist to like… offer tips or  maybe not let people entirely off the hook for behaviour they can manage