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khaleesiofalicante · 2 years ago

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Hello Danii

Could we have an epilogue for DML pretty please I just want to see mor Max 🥹!!!!!!!

Loved the fic btw !!!

The last chapter was the epilogue skdncks. I decided to write you a little Max deleted scene and accidentally wrote a whole thing.

Oops 🫢

He is too excited. A little too excited.

He can’t sit still. So, he keeps shaking his legs in excitement.

Max has wanted this for so long. David is sitting opposite him. Dad and bapak are here. Rafael and Anjali too.

All of them are sitting together and having dinner. Like a family. Max has wanted this for so long, it’s almost making him vibrate.

He can’t just sit and eat. He can’t just shut up and not tell anyone. He wants to shout it to the whole world. At least the whole train.

But he knows doing so will put David in danger. It could put his family in danger too. The fucker Albert already knows about him. That’s probably why he got dad here.

Although Max has no idea what the fuck bapak and rafe are doing here.

He doesn’t care though. They’re all here together. He’ll take this as a win.

David is telling bapak about being a writer. David hates lying. Especially to people he respects a lot. Max has told David a lot about his family. David has a lot of respect for his parents.

Max knows David actually likes to write. He hopes one day, when they sort out all this institute business, David will have the time and freedom to write whatever he wants.

He’s a very good at telling stories. He’s even better at creating them.

Max comes back to reality when he hears someone mention his name.

“Is it in French?” Bapak asks curiously. “I did try learning it but I’m not very fluent. Although Max speaks it quite well.”

David raises an amused eyebrow. Max wants to cackle so hard.

“They say you speak it well. But you hardly speak it when we’re together,” David said in French. “You should speak in French more. Don’t you think?

“Maybe in bed,” Max replies with a grin.

David goes red. Max sometimes forget how easy it is to mess with David.

He suddenly finds a way to channel all the excitement. He takes off the shoe on his right foot and moves his leg over David’s thigh. David, who is drinking his wine, stops all so suddenly.

He gives Max a very subtle glare. Max pretends not to see it.

They are all making conversation about Paris - or whatever fuck. Max is incredibly into how well David is holding the conversation even with everything going on under the table. Literally.

He has to get his hands on his man. Now.

“Paris is so expensive though,” Anjali says at one point.

“That’s so true,” Max groans in agreement.

David hardly ever lets him spend on anything at all. But the city is still fucking expensive. Max wants to go back to New York. Not just because it’s cheaper.

But he’s willing to wait. However long it takes.

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Bapaki shoots him a glare.

David looks confused by the tone and looks at dad.

Dad sighs. “Max was in Paris last year and spent half a million on a party.”

David chokes on his wine. “Half a million?”

Ah fuck. Max obviously didn’t tell him how much the ring cost him. All he knows is that David hasn’t taken it off, not even for a single second, since Max put it on him.

Not even when Albert threatened him.

David is worth all the millions in the world.

The table falls quiet after a moment, except for Rafael’s giggling and Anjali’s soft whispers in Spanish.

Max rolls his eyes. He wishes he could do that. He wishes he could love David like that too.

Publicly. Proudly.

He loves David so much. He just wants everyone to know. He wants David to know.

“Did you enjoy your time in Paris?”

Max looks up. David is looking at him. His eyes are warm and soft, as if he knows what Max is thinking. As if he feels the same way.

“It was okay,” Max shrugs a little and then gives a grin only David has seen before. “I did really like the local cuisine. I loved having it inside my mouth.”

David chokes on his wine. Dad pats him on the back and starts to look around worriedly.

“Please stop trying to turn me on in front of your parents,” David tells him in French, smiling the whole time.

“Stop making it so easy then,” Max smiles right back and responds in French.

Dad and bapak leave the dining carriage and walk into the corridor. Max doesn’t need to follow them to know what happens there. No thank you!

“David and I are going to check the, uh, engine,” Max announces and gets off his seat.

Rafael, who is already making out with Anjali, looks like he couldn’t give a single fuck about Max, David or the engine - or the rest of the world.

Max shrugs as he grabs David by the arm and drags him to the corridor on the opposite side.

David pushes him against the glass door and kisses him hard. “I’ve been wanting to do that all evening.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Max whines.

“You know why,” David says gently. “Mon ange, it isn’t safe.”

“You know what else is not safe? Skipping breakfast. Elyaas told me you didn’t eat anything today morning,” Max points out seriously. “Do you need me to force-feed you? I'm not above shoving croissants into your mouth, babygirl.”

“I was quite nervous about meeting your father,” David chuckles. “Can you blame me?”

“I think he likes you,” Max hums.

“He literally told me he will kill me,” David deadpans. “Twice.”

“And he says that with love!” Max promises. “Give me your hand.”

David leans against the glass door and holds out his hand. “Why?”

“I just miss holding it,” Max shrugs and holds it carefully, threading their fingers together. “I miss you so much, sweetheart. My stupid room is stupid big.”

“You don’t like it?” David frowns. “I told Elyaas to-”

“It’s fine,” Max sighs. “I just…I just wish you were in it.”

David’s face softens. “One day, we’ll come back here. Just the two of us.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” David whispers. His eyes move away and then he blushes a little and switches to French. “Your dad is walking toward us. Let go of my hand.”

“He probably already saw us,” Max shrugs and traces a finger over David’s palm, making him shiver a little.

“What are you doing?” David blushes even more.

“Reading your palm,” Max hums.

“Do you know how to?” David asks curiously.

“Not a fucking clue,” Max grins and touches a random line on David’s palm. “And this is the marriage line.”

#i am love them your honor #DML #mavid

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hermannsthumb · 3 years ago

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possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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lilydalexf · 4 years ago

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Tabula Rasa

Tabula Rasa has 8 stories at Gossamer, but there are even more X-Files fics at AO3 and her website. She writes Mulder and Scully in a very lovely way. I've recced 3 of my favorites of her fics here before: Bird in Snow, Fall: East on M St, and Skuamorph. Big thanks to Tabula Rasa for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

I'm always extremely pleasantly surprised to get kudos (or, very rarely, a comment) on my old fic, but I'm always happy to see it! I did post them all (I think) to AO3. I'm not surprised people are still reading fic, though. It's an iconic show and now with streaming, it's really easy to watch older shows and natural to want fic about them!

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

XF was my first fandom, definitely my first online fandom, and so it will always have a special place in my heart. Also... I had a great time! I stumbled upon and joined the Scullyfic email list by accident, but it was the best thing I could have done. I learned a lot about how to be a writer and how to be in fandom, and those lessons are still important to me. Foundational. Also, in terms of modern fandom drama, XF was more low-key on the drama (although it didn't seem like it at the time!). But I learned something that's always served me well: find like-minded people, and hang out with them. Don't worry about the rest.

Also... you can't control the show, but you kind of can control the canon.

Because of Scully, I ended up taking a forensic anthropology class in university-- and now I have a Master's in a forensic science! Part of the Scully Effect, and proud of it!

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Definitely mostly email list! I never really got the hang of message boards. Posting fic was exhausting, and tbh I never figured out how to work Ephemeral. I checked it every day, though! I loved, after a new episode, everyone sending in their thoughts and reading everyone's experiences together. Fandom was a lot more work back then, tbh!

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

That fic can be just as good, or better, than traditionally published works. There are works of XF fic that have stuck with me for years now, far more than some books I've read. That fan writers can know the characters better than the show writers. The fandom in general was really smart, and mostly more adult than me (I joined fandom when I went away to college, so I always felt at the younger end of the scale. That was good though!).

Also, my first time reading and writing porn. Not gonna lie, I was shocked the first time I accidentally read smut. But I adjusted fast. lol

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I was still a kid (now we would say preteen) when the show premiered- I think in middle school. But I was already into ghosts, aliens, monsters, solving mysteries, and I'd already imprinted on the dynamic thanks to Square One (really)! I was also just old enough to start developing celebrity crushes. Hilariously, I did not twig to the fact that I'm bisexual the entire time I was in XF fandom, despite having enormous crushes on BOTH Mulder and Scully. Ahhhh!

Also, my whole family was into the show, but I was definitely the one with the hyperfixation. I used to take notes and record the episodes as I watched. It just had the right stuff and hit at the right time. And I've always been obsessive.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

As a kid I also really liked Star Trek, and someone had given my dad a book about the history of Star Trek, which I read. This included mentions of fandom and fanfic. As soon as I had a private-- and perhaps more importantly fast-- internet connection (in college), I went looking for XF fanfic, and that was that. Hooked immediately. Also I shipped them A LOT so that's what I went looking for.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I tend to not go back to a fandom once I have a new fandom, so I wouldn't say I'm in it. I did hang around the edges for the revival, of course, because I wanted to experience that with the same people, but since the revival was mostly not that great (with a few exceptions), I didn't get pulled back into it. But I still think of the people I knew in the fandom a lot, and always hope they're doing well.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I've never left fandom, and I've been in a BUNCH: Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Bandom, Supernatural, now CQL/The Untamed and other Chinese-media fandoms, with many smaller ones in between or on the side. I feel like at their core fandoms tend to be similar, although where you host the fandom makes a big difference: Livejournal, tumblr, twitter. I think that because fandoms now tend to be bigger and more diverse (which is good) there tends to be more wank (which is bad). In some of them I was close to a group of people, some of them not. Honestly the best thing is when someone you know from an old fandom is in your new fandom. It's so much fun. I have really good friends thanks to fandom, and I've had them for YEARS. Like. 15 years.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

I tend to focus more on ships than characters, but some of my all-time favs: Scully, Hermione, Sirius Black, Castiel, Lan Wangji, Xie Lian. That's just fandom-oriented ones, otherwise we'd be here all day. :D

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I don't often rewatch episodes any more, although if I come across an ep on tv I might. I definitely still think about them though! For example, I'm a teacher now, and just a couple weeks ago one of my colleagues mentioned he'd heard the students saying they shipped two of their classmates, and he was like "Ship? I don't get it" and I was like "HOO BOY, do I have a story for you!" And I explained how shipping came from XF fandom, and why. That was fun. I definitely still think about Mulder and Scully too-- I mean, they're cultural touchstones, so they do come up sometimes in greater pop culture. Also, I was in Hannibal fandom for a while, and Gillian Anderson is still The Best.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I haven't read XF fic in years, even the ones I remember as being really significant/important to me. I still have my all-time favs saved on an external HD though! Fic in another fandom- every day lol.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Blinded by White Light by DashaK has stuck with me. Mr. and Mrs. Smith and the Ruby-Throated Warbler by I forget I'm so sorry -- that's lasted as my ideal post-canon MSR and as an interesting and different way to tell a story. [Lilydale note: It’s by rah.] I was always thrilled to see fic by Brandon, JET, MaybeAmanda, Syntax6... and, frankly, everyone on the Scullyfic/ Emuse list. So many talented people in that fandom!

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Things Outside, which is the only thing I've ever written based on a dream, and I'm really satisfied with it. It was hard to write but so much fun to revel in the weirdness. I always kind of wanted to write more because I know a lot more about the situation, but otoh, I like the open, ambiguous ending (usually I am very HEA).

In other fandoms, King & Country in bandom (MCR) and in Supernatural I'm very proud of Hope and Clay. I struggle to write casefics even though I love to read them, but that one really worked out.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I don't think I'll ever write something new. There is an old fic that may be done but it was smut so I was too shy to post it at the time. In theory if I find it and it's decent, I could post it!

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I do! I write fic very slowly, but I do write still! I have a million ideas for stories, but I'm so slow at the actual writing part.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

I usually take a jumping-off point from canon, or of course, something I need to fix or expand on. Or sometimes I start telling myself a story as I fall asleep and the idea grabs me long enough I can manage to write it.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I was getting into fandom and realized people didn't use their real names. I flipped through my history book looking for inspiration, and decided tabula rasa was a great name for a writer. I tend to add an X because it's rare to get "tabularasa" as a username, and the X is indeed for X-Files (so I'm something like tabulaxrasa most places). I usually go by Tabula Rasa or Tab, though. And I still use it because 1) it IS a great name for a writer; and 2) it's not fandom-specific so I can keep it in every fandom.

I identify with it so much I have answered to this name in class (oops). I have a "Tab" t-shirt (as in the soda, but I have worn it to Comic-Con for ease of ID-- better than a nametag!). And my mom got me a necklace with a "tab" typewriter key as a charm, which I adore. Yes, I have accidental merch of myself.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

As you can tell from the above, my family knows (my family being my parents and sister). They are supportive! I think my mom read a couple stories? But obviously she has to know the fandom to get it... I got my sister into fic, and we even wrote a couple fics together (in Gundam Wing). She's a lot more selective about fandoms, but she's joined fandoms on her own, too. She's just not in one constantly, like me. :p

I tend not to tell not-online friends unless I have felt them out and know they're super fannish, or they bring it up first.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

Most of my old fic is now on AO3 and I hang out on twitter a lot, @tabula_x_rasa

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

I'm really glad people are still in this fandom! It will always be so important to me. Thank you Lilydale, for this nostalgia trip!

(Posted by Lilydale on March 30, 2021)

#old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #tabula rosa

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ghostmartyr · 4 years ago

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So if you, like me, have nothing to do but wonder about the state of my inbox, you might rightfully be wondering how I plan to deal with the obscene backlog I have spent so many years failing to deal with.

If you have never wondered that, fear not, that doesn’t exclude you from finding out.

Today we’re just going to go through my entire slew of unanswered asks, and instead of answering them, I am going to provide excuses for why I didn’t do anything with them.

For added fun, several of the asks were in my Drafts.

I will not be cutting out the comments I started to make.

I will no doubt regret this.

Let’s have a time, shall we?

I don’t even know what year this is from. If I remember correctly, I didn’t get back to you because I thought about trying to reason out who would legitimately win, and there were too many points for both sides. I kept intending to come up with a proper answer, then time went by and this got buried.

Though the actual answer is probably “it depends on who gets the main character sticker at the time.”

...

Well.

I can tell you this is multiple years old.

We, as humans, aren’t equipped for time travel.

I didn’t answer this one because I didn’t feel like it was asking for one, and I’m only reproducing it here because it is really, really funny now.

Two years old. Plus change.

I think the entire reason I never replied to this one is that it cheered me up whenever I scrolled down enough to see it, so thank you.

You know, I entered the link at the time. Really, I did. But then came trying to come up with a comment and what can you really follow that with?

(Click the link.)

Okay then.

I still feel no need to respond to this, so that’s probably why I didn’t to start with.

Historia and literally anyone.

I don’t remember why I didn’t answer this, which usually means some combination of feeling tired and not being in the mood to scroll down to where it was.

Oops.

The thing is, this crosses dangerously close to being a fic idea. Fic ideas take time and effort. You can imagine the absolute dread I felt at having to engage with either concept.

It would have been a lot of fun to do, though. Hats off.

See, again. This is a very interesting concept that requires thought. I can tell you when I received it I was in no mood for anything that required anything of the sort.

I wrote a fic that is possibly never going to see the light of day now where they hang out in a kitchen with hot chocolate together and bond through unstated trauma and Frieda attempting to make things better.

That probably contributed to interfering with imagining how they would actually get along.

Anyway, I ship them slightly in that fic AU. Don’t @ me.

Oh dang. I remember this.

I actually really wanted to answer it, but the problem is that I wanted to come up with a good answer. Every character, tiered by their chances. A full Hunger Games edition of what went down and who killed who.

Then I didn’t.

Anyway, turns out the answer is that no one feels the need to chop of rocking chairs in a hurry, so she’d last a long time!

I didn’t answer this because I try to avoid responding with, “I don’t know.” My secondary answer would probably have been, “By being killed.”

Not that there’s anything wrong with those answers, but unless there’s been a tonal trend in asks, I assume that pithy answers that don’t actually have any meat behind them would not be appreciated.

I would stick to him probably being killed, though. But some signs do point to him being relatively immortal.

Hm.

Hmm.

I don’t know why I didn’t answer this, but I would guess it had something to do with me caring very little about Ymir’s thoughts on anything outside of her little clutch of people. And ongoing trauma of repeated dead/alive Ymir commentary killing off my desire to come up with a good answer.

Sorry?

I... have no idea why I didn’t answer this? Maybe I didn’t see it?

Anyway, yes.

There’s a longer version behind that yes, and I’m sure that might have contributed to never getting around to answering this. ...Assuming a past where I did actually see this one.

I have a confession.

I don’t really like crossovers.

There’s a sliding scale of degree, but that’s basically why this didn’t get a response.

Ah, we’ve landed on a recurring theme.

Sometimes, answers involve me thinking about the entire cast.

The usual consequence of that is I don’t have the energy for that, so nothing ever happens with these.

Oh, this one’s easy.

I had no fucking clue.

No ideas, head empty.

That didn’t seem like a good answer, so here we are, probably around a year later. I still have no clue. If I were forced to write a singing duo AU, I would probably just put some adjectives and nouns into a blender and flip a coin.

Names are hard.

I think I didn’t answer this one because I felt like I’d answered similar asks before. And I’m not really sure when this is from, but it’s possible canon complicated coming up with an answer that wasn’t distressed screeching.

Something something give Connie and Mikasa hugs, not partial about where they get them from.

Apparently not. Oops.

I can’t remember why I didn’t respond to this one. It’s possible the oodles of bad parenting proved too distracting to formulate such a post.

Sometimes I get an ask, and my immediate, gut reaction is, how the fuck should I know?

If I can move past that, the ask is answered.

If I can’t, the ask continues its descent through scroll hell.

I am sorry. There are no answers here.

Yeah, this is just the same as the above, just with I have no idea.

It’d probably be a Madoka Magic deal.

Huh. I don’t remember passing this one over. If I were to guess a timeline, I was probably too bitter over potential post-timeskip looks that I never got to be interested in focusing on the characters lucky enough to get good ones.

Go Connie for being less short, I suppose.

This clearly belonged to something that I was doing, but time has eroded the context, so I am simply left with failure and disappointment on all sides. Sorry.

Aw, we’re getting into the boring part of the inbox now, I think. Not because of the questions; you guys are always great. But I can’t think of a reason why I wouldn’t have answered this, which leads me to think that the reason was I was too tired to put words together.

That’s a boring reason, so maybe I should go into Drafts for the next few...

Yeah, still unfairly prejudiced against crossovers. I am no fun, etc. etc.

I have no memory of it, but I feel like I didn’t answer this because there was no way I could match this kindly anon’s enthusiasm.

You go, random internet person.

You have good ideas.

Oh no.

Uh.

See.

I know exactly why I didn’t answer this one.

I am so sorry, Anon.

I really didn’t care.

I am filled with affection for you because you clearly do, but uh.

...I basically put this on Read.

This has a very simple, ie boring, explanation. Any time someone asks about the cast as a whole, I want to think about the cast as a whole, and that takes a lot more thought than most of the asks I get. Cue putting it off. Cue it getting lost in scroll hell. On and on we go until we end up here.

Anything that opens with kilometers is something that requires more brain power than I have had in the past year.

Also I think I got this during a spoiler week, so I saw it, but I was trying not to look at it, and then it got lost in the post-chapter asks.

That happens a lot.

We might see it more soon.

If I can’t come up with words more than “-shrug-” I try not to answer.

...Good news, though!

The manga did my job for me!

I feel like I answered some variation of this. That might be why I didn’t answer this specific one.

The wiki does a better job keeping track of the timeline than I ever have. I probably didn’t answer this because it would involve trying to remember which volume actually name-dropped a number of weeks or months. Searching for lines I know a character said is pretty easy, but searching out lines I have a vague feeling of someone providing? That tends to hit the frustration button with the force of a truck.

But yeah, if you ever want to know how long something took, the wiki is absolutely your friend. They do good work.

Consider: “What if” questions are hard, and I am lazy.

This is actually one I really did mean to get to, sorry. It’s an interesting thought, and I miss Sasha.

...I clearly did a magnificent job answering your asks, friend.

Prediction asks are hard for me; I feel like I’m throwing darts randomly into the air and the dartboard is still deciding if it’s going to show up. So uh. I guess I just kept putting this off until it didn’t get answered.

This post is going to have so many apologies. Implied and otherwise.

I continue to be the No Fun Police who accidentally-on-purpose avoids crossover commentary.

I feel like I didn’t answer this one entirely because seeing it in my inbox gave me far too much joy to have it lost in a sea of posts.

This is what my inbox was made for.

I have no idea when this was from, but I see your emotions and appreciate them, Anon.

...Did I not see this one?

Hey, Anon who probably doesn’t remember sending this: This is a good ask and deserved some good attention, and I’m sorry I missed my shot at it. Good thoughts.

I didn’t answer this one entirely because I knew I couldn’t match the energy of it, and responding with anything less felt heretical.

That is one hell of a mood, Anon.

This is definitely from the era of, “Can’t think, brain empty.” Sorry about not getting back to you, I just really couldn’t organize my thoughts well enough to come up with an answer.

I feel like I didn’t know what this was continuing from and was too exhausted to ask.

LOOK YOU CAN SEE I WANTED TO ANSWER THIS BECAUSE IT’S A DRAFT.

Too many things, Anon.

I liked so many things about all of that. Trying to turn that enthusiasm into words wasn’t agreeing with me, so I put it in Drafts and told myself one day I’d do the most awesome post detailing everything.

Intentions, huh?

Every time I tried to take a normal screenshot with formatting Tumblr just laughed at me, so that might have been a contributing factor.

Dang, I’m really sorry. This is another one of those cases where I wanted to take my time with a response, and I took too long.

I, uh.

Am guilty of not being too interested in pondering Ymir’s thoughts on Levi or Erwin.

That’s it, that’s the explanation.

Yeah, I just couldn’t come up with an answer here? Or someone else asked? Or several of my friends decided to be annoying about lists on Discord? I don’t even know.

Presumably there could be a list.

There is not.

Honestly, I just couldn’t figure out how to follow that starting sentence up. A thought exercise on Armin, Historia, gender, and themes sounded really interesting, and I put it in Drafts so as not to forget it being interesting.

Then, you know. This post sort of paints the picture.

Ah.

Man, I really was looking forward to putting some proper thought into this. That’s the problem with having so many things I love in one place, I guess. Symbolism? Historia and Ymir? Mikasa? So many good things! Where do I start!

With paralyzing indecision that results in not a lot. Sorry, Anon. This really did light up my day when I got it.

Here’s the thing about me and writing:

I often fail to.

(I love both these ideas, though.)

Yes.

Do I know why I didn’t get around to answering this?

Absolutely not.

But yes, I’d agree with that.

GOOD NEWS!

The manga actually gave us some of them together in the future.

I occasionally giggled over their shared distaste.

It was a good time.

And this is another one I just do not know why I didn’t answer, whoops.

This never got answered because I couldn’t come up with an answer.

Broad questions are scary because they can go just about anywhere and I didn’t know how to handle that level of commitment.

I think I didn’t answer this one, A), because words are hard, and B), because mostly I just wanted to listen to more of your wondering and less of mine.

I probably could have answered this by saying I don’t have any, but that seemed rude, so I didn’t respond to it at all.

Yep.

Frieda is worthy of my time and effort.

Landing this in Drafts instead of my inbox.

Where the lighting makes it more obvious that hope has gone there to die.

I think about it so much too.

I find the answers fundamentally upsetting.

That is probably why I did not provide an answer here.

That is a lot of kids to make up headcanons for.

So I didn’t.

She’s eaten by dogs before she develops a personality.

Since that seemed like the wrong thing to say, I said nothing, and into Drafts this went.

‘I have no earthly clue’ seemed similarly unhelpful.

At this point, we understand that there is no mystery to my backlog.

This one hurts.

-sees the 112 reference-

Wow does it hurt.

As I hope is obvious, I really, really loved this question, and kept meaning to carve out time to work on it specifically. What went sideways was trying to put words to how EMA functions. I knew the feel of what I wanted to express, but every time I tried to write it, it came out wonky.

I’m very sorry I couldn’t do anything for this, because I was thrilled to spend time with it.

I didn’t answer this because Fuck Marley.

It’s nothing against you. At the time, I simply wasn’t in any mood to consider any version of Marley. Even the canon version was too much for me, so giving it my time in a roleswap AU had me hissing.

Roleswaps in general are amazing, and I love them a lot. A dedicated person could make a fantastic one based around Marley and Paradis. I think it would probably be cool af.

But I was so tired of Marley when I got this, I just couldn’t make myself think about it. Sorry. It’s a fun idea.

I didn’t answer this one because I kept trying to extend my response past, “I think he just really likes baseball.”

I think he just really likes baseball.

My feelings on that as a quality answer are derogatory.

Mm. The ones where I actually tried to get something started hurts.

Ultimately, this ask was a larger demand than I could make my brain work through at the time. I made sure to write down the tl;dr version of Sasha’s, because I found that desperately important, and not something that people talk about much, but the additional weight of trying to think of themes for multiple characters made it hard to progress.

Me, looking at the prompts: Hi my brain left me.

Sorry, Anon. Too many gears were moving for me to get a proper feel for what I wanted to do with this one, so I ended up ditching it. ...I was planning to finish it, though. Eventually. See, I even put the quote in the Draft version as a reminder of what I was doing, so I could get back to it right away.

Yeeeeah, this is just one more to the “I will give this wonderful thing all the time it deserves!” pile.

The pile is stored in the Failure Corner.

Perfectionism is the enemy of progress.

You guys really like crossovers.

I love that for you.

-spends two years ignoring you-

I mean, I just didn’t know what to do with the rainbows.

They sure are there.

They sure are pretty.

I sure couldn’t come up with a comment to add.

...I don’t know why I didn’t answer this. Possibly because I think it’s fine? I’m not too attached to it, and spent the whole manga period wanting to watch an anime version instead, then we got an anime version.

I’d guess that my general “meh” feelings interfered with responding here.

No idea why I didn’t answer this.

Yes, and good for you.

I support all thoughts on giving the Reiss kiddos personalities.

I think I didn’t get back to you on this because I wasn’t sure how to encourage you to keep going so I just sat awkwardly on my hands and felt weird about not saying anything.

...Thanks for sharing!

I love how it’s the little things that date these.

Unfortunately, we’re now at the point where 90% of the reason I didn’t answer was because I was too sick to muster up anything approaching enthusiasm.

Or because I’d just finished answering a bunch of chapter-specific things and was burnt out.

This felt pretty self-explanatory to me, so I felt like that gave me permission to ignore it.

Also, it mentions Marley.

I might be slightly petty.

Really though, I think what stopped me from giving a proper answer is that the question of what an author is trying to say throws me off a little. I work better thinking of it in terms of what the story is saying, with the author just happening to be the hands that wrote it all down.

I don’t know. This was probably another case of feeling like I should give this more of my time than I was able.

I couldn’t decide.

That’s it.

That’s the reason.

Everyone needs to give Mikasa a hug.

My blog title for a hug.

-the crossover snake hisses and consumes another-

I am so sorry.

This is fun.

I probably should have just gone with posting and saying so, because I am genuinely charmed by this. I tend to feel like I have to add something to asks to justify the post. That policy maybe didn’t need to be a thing.

I love my anons.

I want that to be clear.

Really, I do.

I especially love their willingness to embrace my crackpot logic.

Still.

Sometimes, the only response one can have to Schrodinger’s Ymir is to ignore its existence, find a pillow, and scream into it for the rest of time.

This replaces typing.

-looks at Armin-

-looks at Eren-

Yeah, don’t know why I didn’t answer this one, either. I blame tiredness? Sorry about that.

I feel like I didn’t answer this one because it felt like work.

This is where I start considering that making this post was a mistake.

I could have just agreed with you and gone about my day.

Probably should have.

Did not.

Another one for that, “had nothing to add so I just left it in a corner, abandoned and unloved,” pile.

There is an apology section at the end, but we’re not there yet.

This one I don’t think I noticed.

Alternatively, I did notice, and wasn’t sure “Yes,” would pass as a good enough answer.

--------------------------------------

Okay, time to really just get into it: I think for the remainder of my inbox, I didn’t answer because physically, I was just too damn exhausted, and I kept waiting for a point in time where I’d feel better. Sorry to put a limit on the personalization, but in the end, that’s all there was to it, and rephrasing it a dozen times will make me crazy.

And here we are.

Well.

Good grief, do you guys even have any clue how much I like all of you?

Obviously there’s a lot of guilt in the above, because I can’t tell you how much I wanted, each time, to give a great answer that would make you thrilled you messaged me. I am so sorry to all of these I didn’t get to. There were days when the alerts in my inbox were the best thing to happen to me, and I never wanted to let any of them go without acknowledgment.

I try to say thank you as often as I can in my responses, because that’s as close as I can get to reminding you all, constantly, that I am grateful for your participation. The only times I don’t say it is when I worry that it’ll look like it’s being done out of habit, not genuine gratitude. Or when I think you might take it the wrong way if I say thanks for a basic conversation. Because you provide me content and make me interested in things I might not normally look twice at.

There are so many instances of people saying hi, and thank you, and wishing everyone well here.

I haven’t been active in the larger fandom in two years, but I have always been so happy that you guys kept dropping by my space anyway.

You are a pleasure and light in my life, no matter how much snark I might throw about.

Thank you all.

#attack on asks #tl;dr #long post

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longitud-de-onda · 5 years ago

Note

Congratulations on 1k!! 😊😊💞🎉🎊🎊 You totally deserve it, I'm absolutely in love with your Javi fics 😭😭Javier Peña and 'oops we accidentally kissed and now you're not talking to me' and maybe kinda angsty?? But it's totally up to you 🤗

okay so i was supposed to be making these short 500 words or less but then i got caught up in this one and wrote a lot. i’ll be catching up on the rest of my 1k event drabbles in the next couple days. this one got long enough that i’m considering it a short oneshot, tagging my taglist, and adding a read more 😳

character; javier peña

prompt; exes who still live together because money is tight and it just gets really complicated: oops we accidentally kissed and now you’re not talking to me

warnings; um, lots and lots of angst and no happiness, i’m sorry

The fact that the embassy still hadn’t found a spare apartment for you to move into yet was definitely your fault. Neither you nor Javier had heeded the warnings of keeping relationships strictly professional, and while the ambassador had been lenient in letting you two remain a together for the time, upon the occasion of the explosive break-up, she was less inclined to kindness and had told you that no extra efforts would be made to find you a single apartment.

Thankfully there was a guest bedroom, into which you had moved for the time being, but it was small and the bed was the smallest, creakiest, uncomfortable thing so you tried to spend as little time possible in the apartment.

Javier and you hadn’t spoken to one another in a couple days, and the last time you had said anything of substance was over two weeks before when Javier brought an informant home and you walked in on them fucking on the couch.

The whole thing had led you to the bar tonight, hoping that you would be returning to an apartment with only one occupant.

As the alcohol settled into your system you weren’t the fun and boisterous drunk you usually were, just a sad and emotional one, replaying all the ways you missed the way Javier and you were before. How in the beginning you would come home to each other's arms, making dinner together or ordering takeout, smiling and laughing through it all. How you would go out dancing together. How you fell asleep intertwined in each other.

But over time that slowly faded into less contact. You would come home after a long day and instead of telling him about it, you would fume in silence and he would do the same. You started arguing about everything. There were days where you couldn’t stand him, and yet you’d end up in your shared bed every night, even if you were on opposite sides.

Until one day the argument went so far that you couldn’t bear to crawl under the covers next to him, instead choosing to fall asleep on the couch, still in your day clothes, covered by only a scratchy afghan. That was it. The next morning you had told Javier that your relationship couldn’t continue like it was, leading to a shouting match that caused Steve and Connie to come banging on the door, worried someone had gotten hurt. They entered into the wreckage of your relationship, moments after you had said the words “we’re done” and Javier had only nodded. Someone had definitely gotten hurt.

By the time you were stumbling home, crying over what no longer was, you were out of it enough to make some stupid decisions. What those would be you weren’t sure, but as you entered the apartment seeing Javier still awake in the kitchen, making some sort of midnight snack and smiling to himself as a record played softly in the background, that decision cleared up.

He was so beautiful and you missed getting to wrap your arms around him and kiss him any time of the day. Which was what led you to walk up to him as he looked at you with concern and confusion, and planted your lips on his. Sloppy as it was, the kiss was still nice. And to your surprise, Javier started to kiss back. You could taste a little bit of alcohol on his tongue too, so maybe neither of you were truly thinking of the reality of things as you started to make out, but what felt like an eternity later, he was pushing you off, wiping the saliva off his mouth and you were suddenly very nauseous, both with the guilt and the numerous bottles of beer.

The next morning you waited until he left for work before you crawled out of your room, head pounding and hungover. It didn’t matter that you were late for work.

You returned to your room after work, not exiting until you needed to make something for dinner. When you did go out, however, it was to a seemingly empty apartment where you stood by the stove making some pasta. Which is exactly when Javier walked out of his own room, first startling you as he slammed a beer bottle on the countertop, then proceeded to avoid eye contact as he pulled another bottle from the fridge along with a container of leftover pizza which he placed in the microwave.

“I’m sorry, Javi,” you said, wanting anything to break the silence. It hurt to remember the times when a kiss like that was just one in a million. And how much you wanted to go back to how things were. But you knew that was a time long gone.

Javier didn’t respond.

The microwave dinged and he grabbed the pizza and a plate and began to walk back to his room.

“Javier, are you going to say anything to me?” you asked. Your voice cracked.

He stopped and turned around, throwing up his arms.

“What do you want me to say?” Javier exclaimed. “That you should have kept your damn distance? That I forgive you? That I’m sorry too? Because I’m not.”

“Javi—”

“You don’t get to fucking ‘Javi’ me,” he said, “This is all we fucking do. We fight and we yell, and I don’t have a damn clue why we’re still doing it now that it’s all over.”

“I don’t want it to be over,” you said.

“Yeah, well, you should have thought about that months ago when we started falling apart.”

“What? Like it’s all my fault?” you asked.

“You’re doing it again. You take any conversation and escalate it. And we never worked in the first place. Neither of us wants to share enough of ourselves to be worth being in a relationship with. I know I’m not. And I’m pretty sure you’re not worthy of one either.”

You stopped whatever words were going to come out of your mouth. You had no idea Javier thought of himself that way. His words about you hurt, but not as much as the burden of knowing the pain of his own self-judgment.

“Javier, you’re more than worthy of a relationship,” you whispered. “You shared so much. I knew that no matter how hard I tried, I wouldn’t be able to share enough to match the weight of the things you shared.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. We’re just a couple of DEA screw-ups who’ve shot too many people to have lives worth something,” he said. “But I guess I was wrong: I am sorry about the kiss. I shouldn’t have led you to believe there was something worth saving.”

You laughed bitterly. “Right. I guess that’s it then. I don’t have anything more I think I can say.”

“Good, because I don’t either.”

You nodded. He didn’t turn back around to continue to his room. You didn’t turn back to the stove.

There was so much left unsaid but you were so damn scared that it would turn into another loud fighting match, leaving you more broken than you already felt. But there was one thing left unsaid that you couldn’t bear alone.

“I miss us, Javi,” you said.

He solemnly nodded. “That makes two of us yearning for something long gone.”

Javier then turned around and disappeared into the black of the hallway, and you only let the tears fall when you heard the open and close of his bedroom door.

perm taglist; @turquiosenights @el-lizzie @sparrows-books @dxxkxx @opheliaelysia @trashbin2 @rzrcrst @arcadianempress @stevieharrrr @peterparkers-tingle @blushingwueen @coredrive @lokiaddicted @mserynlarsen @badassbaker @1-800-fandomtrashqueen @flower-petal-blooming @talesfromtheguild @eupphoriaaa @weirdowithnobeardo @gaybroadwayloser @randomness501 @adikaofmandalore @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @poesdxmerons @bountyguild @sinnamon-bunn @readsalot73 @gooddaykate @rage-isaquietthing

pedro taglist; @pascalisthepunkest @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @mrsparknuts @souls-rain @twomoonstwosuns

javier taglist; @letaliabane @awesomefandomsunited @applesislife

#javier peña #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #narcos #camila writes #under 2 #1k event #javi x reader #angst #anonymous #ask camila

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justkindaoverhereobsessing · 4 years ago

Text

2020 IN WRITING

tagged by: @indestinatus

tagging: no one, because I am unable to think straight. But whoever is interested in doing this: I’m interested in reading it. <3

Wow, okay, I’m getting real in this little questionnaire... read at your own risk, friends.

1. List of works published this year:

I genuinely can’t write them all out here... there are too many of them! (I’ve done so little besides writing this year!) But I keep a running list of all my projects here. I’m sorry for cheating on this one, haha.

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

This question comes up a lot on these things, and I always put the same answer: That We May Forgive. It’s has emotional moments, silly moments, heartfelt moments where the warmth made me cry as I wrote. It was written in one sitting, and it’s the story where I felt most connected to the characters I love so much. It sums up the joy I feel knowing that these (fictional) friends of mine have finally reached peace after too many years of trauma and hardship. I began the story with a single line in mind, after which the characters took over and told the story for me:

Ziva's second pregnancy is nothing like her first.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

You Stumble, You Soar, which was written for one of my dearest friends in the world, @why-did-you-just-lie-to-mcgee. I wanted to do so much better by her, but as I ran out of time to complete the story by the end of her birthday, I rushed the writing and I think the story suffered for it. It made her happy, though, and that’s the most important thing. She deserves all the happiness, all the time—but especially on her birthday.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

I can’t think of a favorite excerpt of my writing, because I’ve written so much that I can’t think back!

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

“Wow. Let me just tell you that I am absolutely in love with this story. I wake up everyday and, as I log into fanfiction, my only hope is that you've uploaded a new chapter because DAMN. The characters are so well written, the story is beautifully constructed and this last chapter just broke my heart into tiny little pieces. What a remarkable job you've done. Please, don't ever stop writing NCIS/Tiva fanfiction- specially this one story: it's one of my all time favorites. Thank you :)”

An incredibly kind and inspiring comment by a reader named Alexandra on my longest (WIP) fic, We Are an Ocean.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

I’ve had two periods of NCIS hiatus this year—and actually, I’m still in the midst of the second one right now. These have periods of turmoil in my own life. When I’m upset, feeling sick, feeling sorry for myself and I’m depressed and aching... that’s when I write the best, because writing is my safety blanket. When I’m feeling numb, though, or lost... the characters are lost to me, too, and so are the words I use to wrap them (and myself) in comfort.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I’m going to deviate here from NCIS, which is—I’m well aware—why most of my followers have chosen to follow me. But in the last month, I’ve written a single fic for Criminal Minds—it’s called In Possibility, it’s unpublished, and it’s now over 100,00 words. It’s centered on Spencer Reid, who was intimidating to me when I started writing the fic. He’s far more intelligent than I am, requiring me to do a lot of research to give him realistic lines, he’s a deep and complicated character with complicated motivations and a tangled, traumatic past. He also has a sweet, really good heart that’s been scarred by years of difficult work and an emotionally taxing personal life.

I thought he’d be difficult to write; to my surprise, he comes as naturally to me as any of my other favorite characters ever have. He gave me my first nanowrimo win! To be frank, he’s gotten me through a lot of shit this year. That was the best surprise.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

To be honest, I wasn’t much of a writer before this year. I enjoyed writing, especially in a roleplay setting with fandom friends... but I deeply struggled with trying to write alone. I didn’t do much of it.

Then, this year, well... the concept of writing exploded into the most important distraction, escape, and joy I could imagine.

I didn’t grow as a writer this year. I became a writer this year.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

My most recent project—the one that, as I’ve said, is (and will remain) unpublished—has given me a new perspective. It’s written for an audience of me and only me... so I’ve given myself permission to engage in the most ridiculously self-indulgent writing I’ve ever embraced and thrown myself into.

And it has been the greatest joy I could imagine in a time of great pain.*

Next year, I want to throw myself into every project I work on with as much reckless abandon as I’ve done in this last project. I want to stop worrying so much about what people will think and pursue the words that are bursting out of the fingers on my laptop keyboard. I want to have confidence in my ability to draw out emotions—if from no one else, at least from myself.

“If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.” —Emily Dickinson

And it’s alright if that one heart is mine.

That’s what I want to accomplish in my writing next year, and what a growth that would be!

* I’ve mentioned this in my last post, but I’m recovering from brain surgery, I also have the COVID-19 virus, and I’m working on passing a kidney stone that may be too big to pass. I’m writing 10,000 words a day to get through it—and it’s working. Distraction is everything to me right now.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Like Sof, I have to tag three people here, because I really couldn’t choose just one. My three best friends in the world all influenced my writing in their own ways! <3 (Sorry for deviating a little from the writing thing in some of the following lines, oops. I just have emotions that are all over the place this week!)

@indestinatus — One of a few best friends who has had my back every day for so long now. She listens when I need to talk things out—whether or not I’m talking about writing. She really gets me when I need to be silly, or I need to be serious, or I just really, really need a friend. Also, she inspired me to start learning Portuguese this year, and I’m actually practicing by writing a fic in Portuguese, lol. It’s slow going... but Sof encourages me (and corrects me, haha) whenever I work on it, just as she does with absolutely anything else I work on. Truly, I’ve had few friends in my life that are so special to me, and I love her. I really do.

@why-did-you-just-lie-to-mcgee — Is there a better cheerleader on this earth? Is there a better friend? Doubtful on both counts. She thinks I’m a disaster—and, by the way, she’s absolutely right—and she sometimes has to remind me to eat and sleep, but she’s totally cool with being my internet mom. Doesn’t matter that she’s nearly a decade younger than I am, lol. All of these things have bolstered me when the writer inside of me has faltered, and she has carried my burdens as I wrote them out. Anyway, she reads everything I write, and she has requested to gain access to all of my unfinished chapters and unpublished works in the event that I die—I completely trust her with that nonsense. I’ve written it into my will. Really. Like with Sof, I genuinely love Tiz, and I’d do anything for her.

@honeybadgerdocare — Best friend of 20 years. She doesn’t watch the same shows that I do, and my endless ranting makes very little sense to her... but she listens. She’s my sounding board for everything I write, everything I read, everything I watch, and everything that gives me big feelings. I genuinely can’t describe how much she has helped me with my writing every single day, so I’ll leave it at this: I could not do it without her. I’d drown in my own struggles and I’d stop creating the art that sustains me. She’s my soulmate—sorry to her fiancé. All of my love goes to her!

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

HAHAHAHAHA it’s cute how you think my writing is anything other than a re-organized and fictionalized version of my life and my feelings. Real life shows up in my writing, and my writing shows up in my real life. It gets crazy and obsessive, but like... I had a trip to Israel booked this year (obviously canceled due to the pandemic, but still) because Ziva comes from Israel. (Also because of my Jewish adoration for the spiritual homeland, but the thought of going and the trip planning all started with Ziva.) I went to Baltimore so I could run down an alley yelling “YOU CAN’T OUTRUN ME, I’M WEARING TUBE SOCKS!” to encourage my inner Tony DiNozzo. I nearly froze to death in Washington, D.C. and called my mom every time I saw a little red mini coop that looked like Ziva’s, or came across a place that was featured in an NCIS scene.

And to answer the actual question here, because I obviously flipped it around like the moron I am... when the pandemic canceled things I was desperately looking forward to, I wrote a fic where Tali’s excitedly anticipated dance recital got canceled because of the pandemic. I lost my appendix (last year, but the fic was written this year — does that count?) and wrote a fic where Tali loses hers, too. (I swear, I don’t always write things that torture Tali, lol, these are just my best examples!) When I lost a couple of loved ones this year, I wrote a funeral scene where Tony and Tali remembered Ziva. Writing is definitely free therapy, y’all.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Write for yourself—write what you love, and you’ll love what you write. That’s all. That’s it. That’s my advice, something I’ve learned this year.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

I’ve been working on We Are an Ocean for roughly a year now, and 2021 needs to see it finished. I’ve got a number of lovely, dedicated readers who deserve to see the story play out as it’s intended to be played out.

Also, my greatest love right now, In Possibility, will probably write itself to an end in 2021. Or... who knows? Maybe it will worm its way into 2022, too. :-)

14. If you could recommend only one work from yourself published this year:

Since I already went into detail about my favorite fic of mine from this year (That We May Forgive), I’ll recommend a different one: The Stars Always Make Me Laugh. It has some of the darkest moments I’ve ever written, but it also has some of the lightest moments I’ve ever written. It was an answer to two different challenges, and if I can say this without sounding arrogant, I think I met the challenges beautifully. It gave me comfort, catharsis, and closure for a few things in my own life... and I hope it comforts my readers, too.

15. Year word count:

HOLY FUCKING SHIT (excuse my French). I just added up my AO3 word count + my current unpublished project, and... my word count is:

428,557.

FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND, FIVE HUNDRED AND FIFTY SEVEN WORDS

I nearly just fell out of my chair. Goodbye, friends. I am deceased.

#wow wow wow #i'm so sorry for the aggressive feelings here #did not mean to get that effin detailed about my life #but i can't help that my emotions are wildly fluctuating as I fight so many health issues at once #anyway #still on hiatus but #this questionnaire thing soothed my soul #and i enjoyed doing it #thanks for the tag sof!#love you all #about cynthia #personal

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wallywrites · 4 years ago

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colored-rain asked:

Hey! Can you do "dont leave" or "youre my everything" with wolfstar? Ty♡♡

Thanks for the request!! I love this idea already!! I love both these prompts too so why not use both! Sorry it took so long! Been super busy with uni assignments but here it is!

Prompt #21 “don’t leave” and prompt #39 “you’re my everything” from my prompt list! If you want to suggest any prompts check out my list here! :)

Initially I had this really angsty idea in mind since the last wolfstar fic I wrote (still haven’t finished that one oops) was super sad and angsty but after finishing three assignments in the last couple of days I just wanted some cute fluff so here’s my attempt at that! (Still a little angst though)

(Repost because my fic was long and Tumblr decided to delete my “keep reading” bar and won’t let me edit on my laptop because I posted it on my phone, and I HATE that I don’t have one so I’m reposting it so it doesn’t annoy me because I don’t know how to fix it)

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26232955

✨Wolfstar au✨

Full moons were always bad. But at least Remus didn’t have to spend them alone anymore. Even though he never really remembered what happens during the night, only flashes and glimpses of images through his nightmares, he knew that he was safe, that others would be safe, too. That Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs would make sure nothing bad could happen.

But they couldn’t stop the inevitable, and sometimes, like last night, things got a little too out of hand. The moon was bigger than usual, Remus was already feeling angsty and sore days before he was meant to shift, more intense than he usually does. He knew something big was coming, didn’t want to worry the others, should have worried the others.

Instead he pretended he was fine, until he wasn’t. Until he shifted and claws ripped at his skin and teeth bit at his friends, and then he was alone. The rest of the marauders didn’t even know how he managed to get away, spent the whole night looking for him, worried, Prongs still limping slightly from where Moony had latched his jaw into the others leg. Padfoot didn’t stop looking, didn’t stop running and sniffing and tracking, even when the others needed a break, even long after they decided to split up, to track more ground that way.

And then the sun began to rise, and the worry turned into fear. Remus had spent practically the whole full moon alone, and god knows what could have happened without the others there to distract him, to keep him from hurting himself or anyone else.

And then the scent of blood caused Sirius to stop dead in his tracks, his legs pushing himself harder and faster than he had pushed before, because blood was never a good sign, and the sun was practically up and Moony was alone and-

There he was. Lying cold, naked, shaking at the bottom of a ditch, more blood than Sirius had ever seen before. Sirius didn’t even realise that he had shifted back until he saw his hands, reaching out to gently pull Remus’ very cold very scarred very bloody body closer, pulling his own jacked off to drape it around his shoulders, trying to heat up his body. It was bad, so much worse than they’ve had before, nasty wounds drawn long across his chest and stomach, another smaller one across his forehead.

And he couldn’t help but think that this was all his fault. If he didn’t loose Remus, if he had been paying attention, if he had realised how big the moon was earlier and how bad it was going to get-

He didn’t remember making his way back to the castle, Remus floating above him from the levitation spell he must have used. Didn’t remember when he found the other Marauders either, didn’t remember waiting and waiting and waiting for Madame Pomfrey to finish healing their friend.

He did however remember the fear that Madame Pomfrey let into her expressions the brief moment before she moved Remus to a hospital bed and started the healing.

Everything happened in a blur, until he snapped out of the daze he was in, his eyes fixated on Remus, lying cold and still in the hospital bed. He hadn’t even realised he was crying until he glanced down, noticing his forearm covered in tears.

“-Pads?”

He looked up for the first time, blinking a couple of times as he looked towards James, who stood, eyebrows furrowed, hand resting on Sirius’ shoulder - when did that get there?

“You alright? You spaced out?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked what happened? You kind of haven’t spoken since we found you two”

A sigh escaped Sirius as he looked back towards Remus, watching his chest rise and fall, the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart. He tried to think, of what actually happened, but his mind kept wandering, jumping from moment to moment, nothing making any sense. He groaned out as he closed his eyes, rubbing his hand down his face. James waited patiently, not really understanding what was happening, but he knew Sirius, he knew how he acted when they had a particular bad moon, knew that stress and worry can cause his brain to get a little muddled. The same thing happened when Sirius first moved in with the Potters, and James was more observant than he would admit.

And so he drew his hand back and waited as Sirius sighed again, leaning back in his seat, his eyes still trained on Remus.

“It’s all messy, I don’t know, I just..” the image of Remus’ body lying in the ditch came back into Sirius’ mind, causing a shiver to run through him. Out of all the memories and thoughts and images, that was the only one he really could make out, the one he really didn’t want to remember.

Because it hurt. It hurt more than he thought it would, more than he would ever admit. And he didn’t know why. Of course he cares about Remus, he’s cared and worried and stressed about him the day they met, even more the day he found out what happens on a full moon. Remus was one of his best friends, so it makes sense that he was worried, that he was concerned and upset. But it didn’t explain the strange feeling he was getting in his chest, his stomach, his gut. Didn’t explain why his head hurt and his legs couldn’t stop moving and his mind couldn’t stop racing and he couldn’t stop thinking all the worst things he could possibly be thinking and Merlin what if it’s too late and what if he doesn’t make it and what if he never knows how much he means to me and how much I need him and that I love him and-

Sirius physically flinched at the realisation, the words hitting him as hard as he hit the wall he accidentally flew into one day at practice.

“Pads? What is it?” James asked, moving closer as Sirius’ whole body began to shake. He loved Remus. He was in love with Remus fucking Lupin and oh god it made so much sense, so much that he didn’t know how he couldn’t see it before. He was always wanting to be close to Remus, wanting to hear his voice and make him smile and god he was handsome, and sure, he always wondered what it would feel like to hold him and kiss him, and now he knew why.

He started crying again, couldn’t tell when it started, and when he looked to James, the tears kept coming, because he loved Remus, and Remus was hurt, and he was cold and he was bleeding and scarred and Sirius wanted to hold him and tell him it’s going to be okay and tell him that he loves him and what if he doesn’t wake up? What if it’s too late?

“I think love him, James. And I didn’t realise until I saw him- until he.. what if I never get the chance to tell him?”

James was shocked to say the least. Love was a strange topic to Sirius. Sure, he loved a lot of things, in his own way. He loved his friends, loved the Potters, he loved quidditch and pissing Severus off. But love was hard for Sirius, they had his parents to thank for that. It took time for Sirius to even admit that he deeply cared about the other marauders. It was such a foreign concept to Sirius that often times he doesn’t know how he felt, or wouldn’t believe that someone could love him, that he could love someone.

Love was hard for Sirius. But to be in love with someone? James often worried that it would never happen, not because he’s not capable of it, but because he believed Sirius would ignore it, wouldn’t let him feel those things, would push those feelings far away until he forgot about them.

But instead of asking questions and fussing over Sirius being in love, Sirius being in love with a boy, Sirius being in love with Remus, he shook his head, knowing exactly what Sirius is thinking, exactly what he would be freaking out about.

“No, stop that. He’s going to wake up, and then you can tell him how much you love him, okay?”

James had time to question Sirius later, but now he needed to be there for his friend, his brother. Because he knew love, and he knew loss, and he knew Sirius, and he knew he needed to help, to calm him down.

“He’s hurt real bad James-“ he could hear the hurt, the pain in Sirius’ voice, and wondered how he never noticed before, how he always seemed to get worked up and upset whenever they had a particularly bad moon, more so than the others, even when they know he’s safe and going to be okay.

“He’s always hurt bad, and then he wakes up and then he’s fine. He’s going to be okay. Come on, Sirius he’s stronger than all of us combined.” It wasn’t a lie. The moment they found out about Remus’ lycanthropy, James knew he was stronger than anyone he had met, than all of them.

Sirius still wasn’t convinced. They had never had one this bad, and he still couldn’t shake the image out of his head. James watched for a moment as Sirius looked back towards Remus, still asleep, chest rising and falling, shallow but steady, thanks to the professor. She always knew what to do, how to heal Remus, make sure he got better, and they were beyond thankful for that. She even let them stay by his side until he woke up, not that they were technically allowed. Never questioned them either, though they all know she must wonder how the three of them manage to find and bring Remus back after a full moon. She had her guesses, of course, but never questioned them on it, which they were thankful for.

And she always made him better, they knew that, this was no different, but then Sirius started to shake again, because he was so pale, and he was cold and hurt and his skin was already starting to bruise up around the scars and the scars, Merlin the scars were so big and-

James noticed that Sirius started to spiral again, could see the way his brows furrowed and his eyes turned glossy due to more tears threatening to spill. He knew that his mind ad started to race again, so he placed his hand back on his brothers shoulder, and spoke as softly as he could, as calm as he ever had.

“Hey, you’ll get your chance to tell him. I promise you.”

Sirius took a deep breath, calming down slightly, but his legs still bounced under him. And James watched as he just sat, eyes never leaving Remus’ body. Sirius didn’t speak, instead lent forward in his chair, his elbows resting on the bed, next to where Remus laid. And they stayed like that for a while, James’ hand resting on Sirius’ shoulder, his eyes moving between two of his best friends, both broken and hurt and exhausted in different ways. Sirius leaning on the hospital bed, eyes never pulling away from the rise and fall of Remus’ chest, scared that if he looked away, the breathing would stop.

And James knew what he had to do, what Sirius had to do. He didn’t want to leave, but he knew Sirius needed time to think, needed time to just be with Remus, so he moved closer, giving Sirius’ shoulder a small squeeze as he spoke.

“Hey.. I’m gonna give you guys some room, maybe you can think about what you’re going to say when he wakes up?”

Sirius just nodded, a good sign that he wasn’t completely stuck in his head. James pulled back to leave, but he paused, looking back towards Sirius, unmoved, legs still bouncing and body still shaking.

“Hey, uh.. thanks for telling me. You know you can always trust me with that stuff, right?”

Sirius turned his eyes away from Remus for the first time, his eyes finding James, as he nodded, a small smile making it’s way onto his face. Sirius was truly grateful for James, who always let him be himself, who he trusted with everything. “I know.”

“And after this I’m gonna have a hell of a lot of questions to ask you-“

Sirius couldn’t help the chuckle that left him, shaking his head slightly at his friend. “Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll answer all your questions.”

Sirius knew he would have to tell James everything after this, explain everything, including what he still didn’t quite know or understand yet. And if he wasn’t so shaken up or upset still, he might even had been excited to talk to James about it, to laugh with him as they realise how ridiculous he had been, never realising what his feelings had meant. Might’ve even been excited to gossip like normal teenagers do, about Remus and Lily and the absurd amount of pining they’re bound to endure.

James just smiled, nodding his head, before pausing for a moment. And the smile never faltered when he spoke.

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

Those words meant more to Sirius than any words he’s ever heard before. Any time James, or the Potters, or Remus or Peter would tell him that they’re proud, his body would heat up, warmth running through his chest and to his stomach. He didn’t even realise how different this conversation would have been if it was with anyone else, because admittedly he had just come out to his best friend, something that he knows isn’t very accepted, couldn’t even imagine the reaction his parents would have to the idea of their son being in love with a boy, but he was happy that he felt safe enough to do that here. Because James really was his family, really meant a lot to him. And he couldn’t help the smile that made its way to his face at his brothers words.

“Thanks prongs.”

“Give Moons a kiss for me.”

And then James was gone, and Sirius was back to staring at Remus. A long sign escaped him, one he didn’t realise he had been holding, didn’t realise it needed to get out. He reached out, leaning his elbows back where they were, but he paused, his eye drifting to Remus’ hand, lying by his body. Sirius had always wondered what it would feel like to hold his hand. He thought it was ridiculous, that he sounded so sappy, but he didn’t try to stop himself as he reached out, tangling his fingers with Remus’, who was still cold, sending a shiver up Sirius’ arm.

He pulled Remus’ arm towards him gently, placing a kiss on the back of his hand, before resting both arms back down onto the bed, his thumb rubbing over were his lips had touched.

And he sat, and he thought, about what he was going to say. God what was he going to say? And how was he going to say it? What would Remus say? Would he even be okay with it?

He couldn’t imagine Remus ever hating him over the fact that he loved him. Remus probably wouldn’t care that Sirius liked boys either, but would he love him back? Did he love him back? And then Sirius started to panic, because what if he doesn’t? What even would I say? How am I meant to tell Remus that I’m in love with him, and the thought of him gone makes me want to die? That I want to be with him forever, and that I hate when we’re apart, and Christ what am I going to say?

But then he paused, and the worry flooded back to him. He didn’t care what he was going to say, as long as he got to say it. As long as Remus was okay. And he let his eyes wander back over his body, and he could already feel the tears. And then suddenly, the quiet was too much, too suffocating, so he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before he spoke, spilling out all his feelings as best as he could.

“I’m so sorry, Moons. Christ, please be okay. Please wake up Moony..” he spoke, hoping that he could make some sense of what he was feeling. He opened his eyes, focusing on their hands together, before taking a deep breath and continuing.

“I’m so sorry I never told you, that I love you.. I didn’t know.. I didn’t realise I loved you.. I always knew I felt differently about you, but I didn’t.. I was scared, Moons, of a lot of things, but.. seeing you like this.. I can’t imagine never being able to tell you how I feel..”

His eyes were closed again, and he really didn’t want to cry more, so he took another deep breath, his chest shaking, his legs shaking, his hands shaking, and he focused on Remus’ hand within his own. The feeling of their fingers being wrapped up together, the heat from his own body warming up Remus’, which calmed him down. Because he wanted Remus to be warm, to be safe and healthy and okay. He wanted Remus to be okay, because he needed Remus. He needed Remus more than he thought he would ever need anyone.

“Merlin, you’re my everything, Remus. I need you, please wake up.”

And Sirius didn’t know when he realised that Remus was awake, staring at him, tears in his eyes. He didn’t even realise he was staring back, shocked, confused, concerned, until Remus squeezed at his hand, bringing him back from whatever frozen state he was in.

“Merlin Remus” he said simply, dropping down as close to Remus as he could without hurting his wounds, wrapping his arms around his shoulders at an uncomfortable angle to hug him. He didn’t care, Remus was awake, he was okay.. and he might have heard the confession Sirius had made.. and he knows, god he knows.

Sirius didn’t want to pull away, one because he loved the feeling of Remus’ arms wrapped around his back, but also because then Remus would see how red his face is, and then he’d have to face the fact that he unknowingly and unintentionally confessed his feelings to his best friend.

And Sirius’ mind was rambling, trying to think of what to say, or what to do, a million thoughts rushing through his head and around his skull. He was going to get a headache later, already felt it coming along, but he couldn’t possibly worry about that with his heart pounding so loudly in his chest against his rib cage, Moony pressed so closely to his body.

And then Remus’ breath on his ear caused him to freeze, suddenly every thought and sound whirling around in his skull gone as he listened.

“I love you too, Pads.”

Sirius didn’t mean to pull away as fast as he did, but as soon as he saw the calm look on Remus’ face, the sparkle in his eye, he instantly relaxed, even let out a small laugh, eyebrows furrowing together, causing Remus’ smile to grow.

“So you heard all of that?”

Remus laughed out, winching slightly, but his smile never faulted. “Bits and pieces. But I got the gist of it.”

Sirius placed his hands on either side of Remus’ face, careful not to touch any of his healing wounds, and he couldn’t help but smile, warmth pooling throughout his body, because he was holding Remus, and Remus was holding him, and he loved Remus, and Remus loved him.

“I was so scared, Moons.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Sirius chuckled at that, shaking his head. Only Remus would apologise for something that he had no control over. The other marauders have had to tell Remus to stop saying he was sorry on multiple occasions, had explained to him they they know it’s not his fault, that they don’t blame him for anything, would never blame him for anything. That they’re scared and worried because they care, that it’s not his fault. Remus tired to believe them, but the words “I’m sorry” just seemed to slip off his tongue so naturally that he could never really help it.

“No, don’t be sorry. You don’t have to be sorry.”

And he meant it. He didn’t want Remus to ever feel like he had to be sorry, like he was doing something wrong. Because he wasn’t. Sirius thought that Remus shouldn’t ever apologise for anything, because really there isn’t anything Remus could do that would make Sirius want an apology.

They didn’t move, didn’t speak for a while, instead all they did was look to each other. Sirius couldn’t really tell what he was feeling, nor did he completely understand Remus’ expression, but he didn’t want to ask, wanted to just stare a little longer. So he let his eyes move over his face, leaving his eyes and moving across his scars and freckles, and down to his lips. Christ Sirius wanted to kiss him. To finally find out what Remus’ lips would feel like against his own. And it seemed like Remus was reading his mind when he spoke.

“Merlin, Sirius just kiss me already-“

And that’s all Sirius needed before he pushed himself closer, his hands holding Remus’ face as he kissed him. Remus’ arms tightened around Sirius’ back, and Sirius could feel him smile as he kissed him, leaning his body closer, wanting to be closer and closer and closer.

He ran his tongue over Remus’ bottom lip, which Remus returned with a moan, letting him in almost instantly as Sirius’ hands moved up to tangle themselves in his hair. A part of Remus thought he was still dreaming, that this wasn’t happening, that Sirius wasn’t here, kissing him, tugging at his hair, but then Sirius would moan, reminding Remus that this was very much real, that this was very much happening. That just made him want to squeal.

But they were both exhausted, so it wasn’t long before they pulled apart, not really wanting to, but knowing that they probably should. That they would have time to do more of that later.

The two of them couldn’t help but laugh, Sirius leaning his forehead on Remus’, a sigh of relief leaving both of them, a sign that both boys had wanted this for a while, despite Sirius only realising it moments before. Remus shook his head slightly, his smile never fading as he spoke.

“You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve waited for that.”

Sirius felt warm, his whole body tingling at the idea of Remus wanting to kiss Sirius, of Remus waiting for the moment. That thought made Sirius’ face blush red, his cheeks beginning to ache from the grin he didn’t notice having, which refused to leave his expression.

Sirius wanted to be closer to Remus, to hold him and kiss him, the thought itself getting him excited, but as he pulled away slightly, Remus froze, his grip around Sirius’ back tightening as he closed his eyes.

“Don’t-, don’t leave, please.”

Sirius couldn’t help but chuckle, leaving being the last thing on his mind. So he lent down again, catching Remus’ lips in another kiss before pulling back slightly, not as far as before. He pushed himself up onto the bed, Remus moving slightly to the side as he helped Sirius under the covers. Sirius laid down, his arms wrapping around Remus, whose body was now warm, pulling his body into his own. Remus sighed out again, his body shaking slightly as Sirius placed a kiss to his forehead, closing his own eyes before speaking.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

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babycharmander · 5 years ago

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Okay, fanfic meme- 1, 3, 6, 8, 10? (AA sorry that's a lot)

1. Which fic did you put the most work into and which did you put the least into? Be honest!

Uhhh... well, as far as the least amount of work goes... probably some of the Bingo oneshots? Some were written more quickly than others.

As for the most amount of work... man, that’s hard to say. Like, with The Rodent and the Robot, I planned out EVERYTHING before I started writing. I spent a lot of time planning that one. But then there’s like... Neither Can You, which took me a super long time, and I admittedly had to figure out a lot of it as I went. There were a few major points that changed as I wrote (for example, Miguel was going to play a much larger role originally). But I got everything straightened out in the end, so...?? Okay I’m gonna go with NCY.

3. Which of your fics has your favorite opening and which has your favorite ending?

Man that’s hard to say. There’s a few fics that I’m kindof proud of the clever bookends with--Wheatley’s Nights at Freddy’s begins and ends with “It was amazing, really, how quickly Wheatley could regret a decision.” (sort-of--the second-to-last scene starts with that phrase), and Sick Day of Doom starts and ends with Ms. Bitters talking about the plague (which was completely accidental). The Hardest Part also bookends in a way I kinda liked (err... sorta? More like I just used repetition throughout the whole thing, but still.)

I am still like... really proud of The Rodent and the Robot’s opening--it was one of the first things I thought of when I thought about working on the fic, what it must be like for Caroline to exist in total sensory deprivation. Was interesting to write about!

I also remember being very pleased with the ending I wrote for A Few Repairs, though I think the metaphor I was using throughout the fic was kinda lost on a lot of people. XD;; Which is kinda my fault. But it seemed cool at the time?

It’s an older fic, but I’m pretty happy with the last line of Protector. I’d say why but I don’t want to spoil that one.

...okay that answer was really long. oops.

6. If you had to rewrite or heavily revise a fic, which would you choose and why?

Oh!! Guessing Game, definitely! I’ve actually been wanting to rewrite that one for some time now! Return to Oz has very few fics, and mine, which I wrote like... 10 years ago or so, is kindof lackluster. I still like the idea of it though so I’d like to rewrite it to be better.

8. If you could have an artist create fan art for any of your fics, which would it be and why?

ANY OF THEM!! I love getting fanart on any of my fics!! It makes me so happy oh my gosh.

10. Which of your fics do you wish more people would talk to you/ask questions about and why? Be honest!

I mean.... I love folks asking me about any of my fics, really. XD; But I kindof wished Protector had gotten more attention than it did. I mean, it’s all fancharacters so it’s understandable why it didn’t get as much attention, but I’m still really happy with that fic.

#writing #bc answers nonsense #jaywings

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phoenix-downer · 6 years ago

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Hi ;; Any thoughts on Ven as a character? //w\\

Ven is wonderful and I’m always happy to talk about him!

I love how he went from being pretty playful/carefree at the start of BBS to being willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. It shows real growth and maturity on his part.

I liked him… pretty much as soon as I started BBS, especially because Jesse McCartney does such a good job voicing him. He makes him sound different from Roxas, too, which is really impressive.

The moment I really came to love him as a character, though, was when he unfroze himself to protect Aqua. He went from being “awwww cute Ven” to “awwww yeah badass Ven” and I loved it.

And since I still have a gajillion screenshots from KH3 I haven’t posted yet, enjoy the following Ven screenshots/discussion of his role in KH3!

The moment when his heart appeared through Sora I think I gasped, this whole scene was great with the way it built up the tension:

Ven influencing Sora to try to save Aqua through him was awesome, too. We’ve seen how hard Aqua tried to save Ven in BBS and return to him in 0.2, so it was really, REALLY nice for a change to see him do everything he could to save her for once… EVEN WHILE HE WAS STILL ASLEEP:

Then when Aqua wakes up and briefly sees Ven and Terra instead of Sora and Riku:

Sleeping in this position for over a decade can’t be comfortable, right?

Aqua and Ven reunited at long last:

This hug was something I really needed and I’m glad we got it:

Ven once again influencing Sora to act:

Ven helping Sora out with the power of waking was nice especially because no one else really helped oops:

Ven’s heart station looks beautiful in this game:

HIM THANKING SORA WAS WONDERFUL AND I REALLY WANTED TO SEE THIS HAPPEN SO I’M GLAD WE GOT IT:

Sleeping Beauty:

Ven getting to be a badass again in a scene paralleling how he protected Aqua in BBS:

We all probably cheered at this moment, what a way to wake up:

That rivalry with Vanitas is still going strong:

Ven and Aqua reuniting:

Ven realizing that Sora looks like Vanitas was too cute:

Ven realizing who Sora was all along is also something I really needed so I’m glad we got it:

THEM OFFICIALLY MEETING AND SHAKING HANDS WAS ALSO SOMETHING I REALLY NEEDED:

SO WAS VEN TELLING SORA TO CALL HIM VEN INSTEAD OF VENTUS I was really hoping this would happen and actually included it in one of my fics so to see it unfold on screen was a real treat:

GOOD MORNING VEN TOO PRECIOUS FOR WORDS LOOK AT AQUA’S ADROABLE LITTLE SMILE HERE:

We are indeed fortunate to have them back:

Love how they both still are determined to find Terra:

VEN REMEMBERING LEA’S REAL NAME WHEN EVERYONE ELSE JUST CALLS HIM AXEL WAS A WONDERFUL SURPRISE:

Him calling them friends? Even better:

Ven’s still determined to find Terra after all this time, what a good friend:

This whole little scene between Aqua and Ven was lovely and added so much:

And he still has his Wayfinder!

I love how hopeful he is about this, how he just KNOWS somehow that they’ll get Terra back. After everything Aqua’s been through I think she really needed Ven’s positivity to help cheer her up and give her hope again, too:

Love this shot of the two of them looking up at the stars. Now all they need is to find Terra again:

Everyone’s here, and Ven has Aqua’s back:

Aqua has Ven’s back this time and they both mean business:

Yeah, we all knew something was off here, but Ven was just so excited to see Terra again:

Aqua is positioning herself in front of him to keep him safe and he’s just complete sad puppy dog mode:

And then we get a time loop and this happens again:

Pouty Ven is best Ven. “But Mooooom, why can’t I–”

Aqua just looks perpetually done in so many of these and I kind of love it, she’s seen it all at this point while Ven is still just like D: TERRA

Back-to-back badasses:

That’s a lot of enemies, but they’re sticking by each other’s sides. The Aqua-Ventus friendship was so well done this game, really:

“It’s insane for you to fight these guys alone! I’ll go with you so it’ll be slightly less insane and at least we can die together!”

Reaction shot to Xehanort’s shenanigans:

Aqua and Ven were taking on Terranort and Vanitas, pretty impressive:

Loved this scene between Sora, Ven, and Vanitas discussing how they’re all connected to each other:

I loved this moment, too. Ven didn’t ever want to be split apart, and he comes down hard on the side of free will, which Sora does too later on in his speech to Xehanort:

YOU TELL HIM:

I love how angry Ven is here. Just because you have a heart of pure light doesn’t mean you can’t be angry or upset:

Ven shows concern for Terra even after Terranort tried to hurt him multiple times:

Look at the concern in his eyes for his friend:

And then he and Aqua are like uh-oh:

Okay, this whole sequence was really, REALLY disturbing and really well-done. Sora’s horror as Terranort yanked Aqua and Ven around till they were unconscious… one more time and he probably would’ve killed them… I got shivers from this scene, especially when Sora begged and pleaded for them:

And then this part, Ven just drives the knife further and breaks our hearts in the best possible way. In the Japanese version IIRC he even tells Terra he’ll save him:

And Terra’s finally back and he makes sure Ven’s okay:

This moment was so touching and beautiful, Terra acknowledging how long and far Ven searched for him because he wanted his friend to come home and showing appreciation for it when before in BBS he kind of pushed Ven and Aqua away. No, this time he pulls them both close:

This hug was something I really needed and I’m glad we got it:

Ven volunteering to go with Sora when he had yet another near death experience (how many does that make in one day? Two? Three?) just to show how wonderful he is, how determined he is to help:

Puppy dog eyes for now but they’ll catch up later:

Unfortunately I did not capture the actual moment itself, but when Ven and Roxas glimpsed each other that was pretty hilarious (was it here? Can’t remember exactly):

Aqua continues to be Done and actually Ven and Terra are too at this point. Family that slays together stays together:

Ven standing between Terra and Aqua here is a lovely touch, we have three of the total trios on screen right here:

Ven’s the first one to run to their master:

And he and Aqua both give him a hug which I was so glad to see:

AND THEN TERRA JOINS TOO:

Eraqus apologizing to Ven was something I really, REALLY hoped would happen (to the point where again I included it in a fic I wrote) and I was so glad that it did:

Ven just sobbing here hit me so hard, he’s so young and to have his father figure try to kill him… that would hurt so bad and be really traumatizing… but to hear him apologize must have brought such healing to Ven’s heart, too:

You can tell he’s grieving over the loss of Eraqus:

But he still lends Sora his power to help close the door:

One last shot of the Wayfinder Trio together like they should be:

Missing because I couldn’t record or didn’t get them:

The Spider-Man meme come to life

Ven and Chirithy getting reunited!

VEN THROWING A FRISBEE

Ven accidentally knocking over Donald’s sandduck

Thank you for the ask, anon! Ven is pretty great, isn’t he?

#kh3 spoilers #kh3 #kingdom hearts 3 #kingdom hearts 3 spoilers #kingdom hearts #ventus #ven #answer #anonymous #phoenix plays kh3

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izupie · 5 years ago

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Okay! Ask game! I pick 1, 13, 19, 35, and 47!

Thank you for the ask from this fanfiction ask game!

1. What was your first fic and could you stand to reread it today?

My first ever fanfiction that I ever wrote - before I even knew what fanfiction was - was a self-insert YuGiOh story I wrote because I was a little kid with an imagination and a pen and I wanted to interact with my favourite characters.

Which is why I will never be mean about kids writing really cheesy self-insert fics. Let them have their fun!

I still own this notebook and honest to god it’s the funniest read ever. Sometimes I get nostalgic about my writing and I’ll reread it just for a laugh. There’s an iconic line in it that me and my friend lose our minds over - if I just say ‘Cause she shouted...’ at any time to her she will immediately just shoot back with ‘mega loud!’

It’s a great read ahaha h a h a

In terms of my first actual published fanfiction it was a Kingdom Hearts fic I put on FF.net and it reads with all of the excellent tropes and cliches a 12 year old can write. It’s horrific! How weird that I can read the one I wrote as a really young kid, but not the one I wrote as a 12 year old ?

13. What’s the biggest change between your style when you started in fandom and today?

A bit of a neat segue from the previous question is that my style when I first started publishing fanfiction was full of all those typical ‘just starting out’ stuff like describing people based on their hair colour instead of just using their names. THE SILVER HAIRED TEEN did this. THE BRUNETTE did that. oh yes. I went there. Describing people’s eyes as ‘orbs’

and

holding a breath

they didn’t even know

they were holding

(Oh wait I still do that one)

I kept it very simple, lots of dialogue.

Now I try to get inside my characters heads. And I loooove to describe simple acts, but as something pretty or important - like watching a character getting ready or eating lunch in a Ghibli movie. And I guess I’m more adventurous now, and willing to be flexible with my ‘style’. (Though I can’t really describe what that style is - does writer struggle to capture the essence of their own writing style???)

19. If you had to pick one fic/scene/chapter of your work to describe your entire portfolio to a stranger, which would you pick?

I’d pick Ochako entering the cafe and finding Izuku there in Beep Beep Beep. In my head it’s probably my favourite thing I’ve written - really atmospheric and my heart clenches whenever I think of that whole scene. Probably that whole last chapter makes me want to cry with sentimentality.

I’ll add it under a cut~

----------

“What the…” she breathed. The whole café was covered in strings of fairy lights – even more than usual – winding and twisting over the tables and chairs, dripping over the counter and draped over the plastic planets hanging from the ceiling. Softly glowing spots of silver shone through the darkness and bright lights like stars were being projected onto every surface. Ochako lifted her hands in awe to see the spots of light on her skin. It looked like she’d just fallen into the night sky.

It was beautiful.

She looked around, mouth still open slightly, and noticed the ‘stars’ were being projected from a glowing ball in the centre of the room.

Ochako softly closed the front door behind her and began to walk over to the projector, wondering why Mina had set this up, when she noticed a figure standing nearby, nearly hidden in the dark shadows cast by the lights.

She yelped in surprise and grabbed a chair, brandishing it in front of her. “Who’s there?”

“Ah! N-No- Wait, Ochako, it’s okay- it’s just me! It’s just me!”

She could barely make out the figure that jolted forwards quickly and dropped down to crouch by the projector, but the voice was achingly familiar. She heard a few clicks and the starry lights illuminated the café more brightly, making it so that she could see the figure clearly as he stood up and rubbed the back of his neck.

Ochako replaced the chair slowly.

“Izuku?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was going to say something- but you looked so, um… so pretty standing there and I…”

Ochako wasn’t sure who moved first. But within another beat of her heart, so loud in her ears, they had pulled each other into an embrace. She buried her face in his chest, arms tight around his middle, and gripped onto fistfuls of his soft hoodie. His strong arms squeezed her against him, and he lay his head on her shoulder.

Together at last.

It was like everything she’d been feeling for him came crashing through her in waves all at once; that initial spark, gratitude, friendship, fondness, admiration, affection… She’d missed him so much. Though they’d only been apart a few days but her longing to talk to him and be close to him had only grown with each day that passed.

She inhaled deeply and snuggled into his warm embrace. His clothes had picked up the subtle tang of coffee that permanently lingered in the café.

“I thought you had to work tonight,” she eventually managed, though it still came out as barely more than a whisper into the soft material of the hoodie over his broad chest.

“I was supposed to be.” He turned his head slightly so that his breath tickled the skin on her neck.

She shivered, despite her warmth, and hated that her thick winter coat felt like a barrier between them. She had to resist the urge to just throw it off.

Izuku eventually pulled back gently so that they could look at each other. Silver light kissed the flushed skin of his cheeks, and the projected stars gave him cosmic freckles.

“Someone gave me some good advice. I decided it didn’t matter if the universe just kept on keeping us apart. I just needed to t-try harder.” He brushed a stray flyaway piece of hair behind her ear and stroked her cheek lightly. “Last time I got you a bouquet of flowers, but this time… this time I got you the stars.”

Ochako could feel tears filling her vision and she tried to say something, but her voice stuck in her throat. Something she couldn’t identify passed between their shared gaze, intense and powerful, and she had the sudden incredible urge to kiss him. She might even have done it if he hadn’t blinked and looked away, a vibrant red blooming strongly across his nose.

“Uh, s-sorry, that was kind of corny…”

His hand drifted away from her cheek.

Ochako shook her head violently, scattering the tear drops she had been desperately holding back, and knew they would be catching the artificial starlight as they finally trickled freely down her cheeks.

“No!” she squeaked. “Nobody has ever said anything like that to me. Ever.” She took a steadying breath, hoping it would stop her voice from wobbling so much. “Nobody has ever tried this hard to get to know me and spend time with me. I-I can’t believe you’d do all this just for me. All of this, it’s beautiful.”

Izuku stared long and hard at her, a smile creasing the skin in the corner of his eyes. “I’m so glad.”

He gently wiped her tears and Ochako’s stomach flipped like the moment of weightlessness that she loved at the very top of a roller-coaster, just as plunges down the track. She felt like her whole body was being held together by the vibrations of the pulse through her veins.

“Although you did nearly attack me with a chair,” he added playfully.

Ochako blushed as she hiccupped and clamped her hands to her mouth. “Ah! I did, didn’t I? I’m sorry Izuku, I didn’t know it was you.” She couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out from behind her hand.

----------

35. Have you ever written a ship into a fic without meaning to?

I accidentally had Ochako kind of almost slightly crushing on Doctor Shouto in BBB - I couldn’t stop her describing his ‘pretty eyes’ and I was like Yeah Me Too. oops

That’s as far as it’s ever gone though - I am pretty focused and single minded when it comes to writing my ships aaa

47. If someone you know in real life who isn’t involved in fandoms asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

I have had a few people in real life read Beep Beep Beep! A friend from work read it and passed it onto her son who also read it and he drew me some fanart that he printed out and framed for my birthday. I literally nearly just died on the spot.

Other than the names it’s one of those AUs where it’s kind of it’s own thing - just a really really cheesy romance - so I think it’s fairly accessible even if you don’t know the show? You just lose some of the neat callbacks

#thanks again!! <3 #izu replies #fanfiction ask games #this one was especially fun to respond to

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uglypastels · 6 years ago

Text

Delay // Tom Holland

(a/n) I'll just call these short stories "fics I wrote in moments I really needed Tom". Got a 5 hour delay today. Whooo! So here is a little fic I wrote as I waited.

word count: no idea, wrote it on my phone

Warning: shitty writing, swearing, mention of cheating (just because)

"Due to incovenience with the weather, the following flights will be cancelled..." your ears perked up as you listened to your flight number being called out. With a groan you slid down in your chair that you had been seated in for the last twenty minutes. The flight attendant at the gate gave a small apology and explained more about the circumstances. Were they really expecting from you to wait another half an hour to get your flight rebooked?

Well, it's not like you could do anything else. You opened your book again and continued the enticing story.

This was, unfortunately, put to a halt once again when a man ran up to the gate. "NO, no, no, no." He kept on mumbling. You looked up at him through your lashes. His face was red, probably from running through the whole airport.

"Don't worry. They cancelled the flight." You mumbled as he stopped in front of you, his breathing heavy as he looked at the boarding information. His eyes widened and he looked down. His brown irises pearcing into yours.

"What? Why?"

"Weather's shit." You shrugged and continued to scan the words on your page. Something brushed against your shoulder as he sat down on the plastic chair next to you. Your eyes only moved to him for a second before turning back to the book.

He exhaled deeply. Somehow he managed to sound relieved but frustrated at the time. You were so close to each other that you could smell him: caramel brownie. You didn't expect a handsome man like him to smell like that.

Handsome? You gave him another quick glance. Yeah, handsome was an understatement.

"So, what now?" He asked as he turned to face you. You looked away hoping he didn't catch you staring.

"Uhm... they will rebook everyone on this flight. If you don't like the options, you can just ask for your money back and go." You repeated what you heard earlier over the inter-com. The man nodded along. His small brown curls falling up and down as he moved.

You started to wonder how to start a conversation when he asked you: "Where were you off to?"

"Weren't we supposed to be on the same flight?" You laughed lightly.

"Yeah. I meant, why? What occasion?"

"Wedding." You said, not with a lot of enthusiasm. "You?"

"Going to visit a friend."

"That's nice." You weren't looking at him, still embarrassed from when he might have caught you staring, but you felt his eyes on you.

"So is a wedding, isn't it?"

"It would be, if my boyfriend didn't cancel on me last minute." You looked up at him. Right at that moment his nice smile had twitched in... disappointment?

"How come?" He was a nosy one. Normally it would annoy you when strangers tried to converse with you. Though this, you didn't even mind. He was easy to talk to. But you kept yourself on edge. Not giving into the friendly facade immediately. He was a stranger after all. That is why you didn't mention the ex-boyfriend part of the story.

"He had to work." You shrugged again, laughing to yourself as you used the same excuse he did when he cancelled all of your plans to meet up with that bitch.

"That sucks." He pulled one of his legs on top of the other's knee. His legs spread, accidentally bumping into yours. "Sorry." He smiled while moving away lightly.

"That's okay." You reassured him. For the next few minutes you sat in silence. You reading your book, him checking things on his phone. From time to time, he would chuckle about something and your heart literally fluttered every time. It was actually really nice. You felt comfortable around him, something that didn't happen a lot, yet you didn't even know his name.

Then the silence was broken when the flight attendant called out that the flight was rebooked and everyone could walk up to the counter of the gate to get the new flight information.

You grabbed your backpack and basically ran over to the woman. By doing so, you managed to be one of the first to get their new ticket. Satisfied you sat down in your previous seat. The man who had accompanied you previously wasn't there. But you were alone for only a short while. Soon he came back. His own ticket in hand.

"Which one did they give you?" He asked, referring to the few options that were still available.

"The 4:25. You?"

"I got the same one." He smiled and sat down. You couldn't help but reciprocate the excitement. His smile was addicting.

"So that leaves us..." you looked at your phone for the time. 11:07. "Over five hours... oof." What were you to do, alone, for all that time.

"Hey," you were pulled out of your spiral by his voice. "Wanna grab something to eat maybe?"

"Uuhh...sure." Your striaghtened your posture. You hadn't even realized you were slouching.

"I'm Tom by the way."

"(Y/N)". You shook hands. At least you thought that was the plan. He, instead, took your hand and got up, pulling you along with him.

This was going to be fun. _____________________________

2:36. Less than two hours to go. You and Tom had managed to find a decent place to eat and after that took a walk through the busy airport. The tourist attracting shops having no effect on you, it was mostly to people watch.

"So what now?" You asked. You had stopped walking to look at him and he did the same. He thought for a moment.

"We sit."

"Where?" You looked around you. So did he. There were no seats anywhere near you. Then Tom's eyes lit up and a grin appeared on his face. It was that stupid kind of grin.

"There." He pointed to a corner in the hall. Right next to a giant commercial of an overpriced perfume.

"You're an idiot." You rolled your eyes but at the same time pulled his hand as you walked to the little secluded spot. It was one of those parts of an airport that was empty. Not because you weren't allowed to be there. It was just one of those hallways between gates where people kept on walking through, but never stayed in. Until you two came along.

You sat down and leaned against one of the walls. Tom did the exact same, all the way to how he crossed his legs the same way you did. You put your bags in between your and his legs.

"So..."

"So."

"So?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?" You blurted out. Your hand immmediately went up to cover your mouth. What the hell?! Tom looked at you surprised, clearly not expecting the question between all the "so" 's. But he just smiled, shaking his head.

"Sorry. I don't know why I asked." The hands that were in front of your mouth travelled up to cover your whole face.

"It's okay." He kept on laughing. You hoped he wouldn't stop. He looked so good when he did it. Well, he looked good doing anything, but with that smile on his face he looked even better. "And no, I don't have a girlfriend."

If you had been drinking water, you were sure it would have been all over him by now. How did he not have a girlfriend?

"What? I don't believe that." You told him the truth. He, however, just shrugged. "Better believe it, darling." The way he said that made you literally melt.

"But you have a boyfriend, right?" His eyebrow twitched just the slightest bit up by the question.

"More like an ex boyfriend," you mimicked his shrug.

"Did I miss something." He chuckled. "Pretty sure you had told me earlier that you had a boyfriend."

"Forgot to mention the part where I dumped his cheating ass.... oops." You gave him a sad smile.

"I'm so confused, but shit, (Y/N), I'm sorry." He spread his arms and you immediately went in to accept the hug. He was so warm and soft. The smell of caramel brownies still hung around him. It was sweet. You loved it.

And just like that you kept talking until your gate number was called out... just to keep talking while you made your way to it. This continued while you waited in line to get into the plane. You thought that would be it, but what were the odds, you had seats next to each other.

You kept talking until you fell asleep. Your head leaning against his shoulder. His head on yours. Fingers intertwined. His thumb brushing softly against your hand.

It might have been a dream, but it might have been in real life, but you were pretty sure you felt a pair of lips leave a soft kiss on your forehead.

The End

@spiderrrling @tomhollanders2013 @thelazypangolin @lovelyspidey @andwhatdostarsdobest

#i'm finally boarding #see you later dudes #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland writing #tom holland au #fanfic #fanfiction

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giraffles · 7 years ago

Text

Blaze of Glory

the second of two non-finale compliant The Adventure Zone fics I wrote in a mad dash before that episode dropped, so spoilers up through all of Story & Song and all that. shout out to my friends who came up with this ridiculous, yet so in character, fic idea. parts got a little more angsty than I intended but I’m real good at that oops.

content warning for stuff like drug use, murder, and everyone being completely unashamed about such things. listen. it’s ya boys. do you expect anything less??

Blaze of Glory (side Barry/Lup, please check those tags)

One last mission for a dear friend who can't do it himself, a plate of special macarons, and absolutely no dogs on the moon.

you can also read it here on AO3!

"You sure this is the way?" Merle asks for the third time, attempting to peer over the edge of the parchment. Taako shoos him away, pouring his concentration into trying to figure out if the map was right way up. He should have brought a compass. Or someone with any sense of direction. But there weren't many people he trusted to come along on the mission, and even fewer of them who would approve of it. It was a sensitive topic concerning a secretly sensitive man; one who would never quite understand what they were doing, regardless of the fact he had made them promise to carry out his will. Magical memory loss was a funny thing like that; because how can you miss something, be angry about something, feel any emotion, if you couldn't remember it? Even now, with visions of multiple lives he's lead all clear in chronological order, there's still that headache that comes with it. The bitter guilt and anger over not knowing something so important. Which was why it was just him and Merle-- No Magnus, as strange as it felt not to have him there, because Magnus didn't know any more. "This is definitely the right way." Taako says with confidence far beyond his means. Fake it 'till you make it, he always said. (Or was it Lup who had come up with that one? Maybe things were still a little jumbled.) "Neverwinter is right over there. Beyond that hill." Merle gives him a look that says 'whatever you say, bucko', but only crosses his arms instead of protesting. The dwarf has tried to keep the mood light, and Taako appreciates that, lest the enormity of the situation overtake them. It's one thing to kill bad guys, to strike down jellies and undead and gods-know-what still hid in the dark corners of the world. It's quite another to be actively seeking out someone to murder them. It's not even the murder part that has him distracted. That's easy, and the scumbag deserves it, deserves it a hundred times over for hurting someone so dear. What's got him a little shaken in their part in this new era they've accidentally created. The Day of Story and Song will live on in the collective consciousness of so, so many planes of existence, and they'll always be at the center of it all. Any where they go now, people know. They know of the Starblaster crew, their journey through universes, they know their faces and deeds and some of the stupider things they've done. It makes a lot of things simpler. It makes tracking down a tyrant-ex-governor really fucking hard. Taako resolves to kill him extra dead for making them trudge through all of these swamps. At least anything with two brain cells knows to avoid the two of them, and anything too stupid to get in their path doesn't live long. He can't believe he ever forgot this power, these things that make up his very core, and it's good to burn off a little steam on twig blights and awakened bushes. And now with a decade of extra adventuring under his sleeve, it's only compounded his magical ability. It's the same with all of them. Anyone would be hardpressed to find someone equal to the seven aliens that helped fight tooth and nail for their reality. "D'ya think he's okay?" It's a rhetorical question at heart, yet Merle asks it aloud anyway. "Pff, he's fine." Taako insists as he climbs over a fallen stump and tangle of exposed roots. He has to stop and pull Merle out of the snare when he inevitably gets himself stuck. "I'm sure he's carving ducks or playing ninja or whatever." It's almost too good, how he's able to lie to everyone. Including himself. Because it still feels wrong to be off gallivanting without Magnus. They'd been together for so long, been through tailor made hells and cosmic turmoil as a team. It feels wrong. Merle sighs. "I know, I know. It's for the best. I still feel bad though." "He's fine," Taako repeats, "I made sure someone would be there to keep him busy." And it had been such a trial to arrange everything. Because he had to do it in a way that kept Magnus in the dark while also not raising his suspicions. Luckily, Magnus had been willing enough to accept excuses and place enough trust in them to not notice anything. And maybe that's really what has him in a bad mood, the fact that him and Merle had to betray a man so open and honest. A man who nearly stumbled into their secret meetings about plans and intel one too many times. Taako can't wait to find Kalen and pop one in his ass.

He doesn't catch what Magnus says, but whatever it was, it has Lup laughing hysterically, nearly wheezing as she rolls off the bed. He should really see if she's okay, but judging by her muffled giggles, she's fine for the moment. Barry puts his hand in the cheeto bag, only to come back confused and cheese-less. Had they really finished the whole thing already? "Shh, shh!" Magnus attempts through his own snickers, "You have to be really quiet or it won't work!" "What won't work?" Barry asks. Instead of answering, Magnus rolls onto the floor beside Lup. She's trying to catch her breath, but breaks down any time she tries to look at the fighter. Barry joins them only because Magnus produces a tin of pringles out of somewhere, and certainly not because he felt left out or anything. Certainly not because it's real nice to lay next to Lup and just be, while she's vibrant and warm and very much alive. A lightning strike in mortal form, brimming with destructive potential and yet so sweet in a way that nearly broke him when she didn't come back. Nah. He's here for the pringles. "Lavender." Magnus declares, and Lup loses it again. "The cookies?" They had been vanilla lavender macaroons, right? With enough of each to cover up the pungent drug Lup added to the batch. Where did she even find weed on a moonbase? "Those were chamomile," Lup sounds almost offended, "He means what you sound like, babe." However that doesn't lend any clarity to the statement. "Shhhh!" Magnus places his hands over both their mouths, "You can hear color." The concept is absolutely absurd, because senses don't work like that, and yet he's seriously considering it. Time has already gone a little funky, slipping sideways and slowing to a crawl. The scholar in him has a little voice that pipes up to say that it's just the altered state they're all in-- but it's soft and hazy, and goes quiet even as he tries to chase the trails of academic thought. Lup is laughing again, and it reminds him of the conservatory, of the way the sun caught her hair on an illuminated afternoon, how they shone like strands of gold. Golden and warm and all wrapped up in each other. "Holy shit." Barry says. "I can do you one better," Lup interjects, "Don't move." "Why not?" "Just trust me." She pats both of them on the arm, though she lingers on his. And they're still for a moment, and then another, even though there's a sensation that the world is trying to move around them. He could stay like this for the rest of the night actually. Even fall asleep, maybe. "Woaaah," Magnus sounds blown away by some secret revelation, "I can feel the ground moving." "I know, right? Fuckin' crazy." Barry isn't convinced that's what they're feeling, but he lets it go. No reason to contest the fact. Not when "Operation Distract-Magnus-For-As-Long-As-Possible" was in effect. So far, so good. Hopefully they would be a little less wasted by the time that Taako and Merle got back. Hopefully, they'd be successful in their own mission, and no one would be the wiser. Then again, he had watched them work for a year. His confidence in them might be a little shaky. But that was a problem for future Barry, not high-as-hell Barry.

"We are not lost!" "It's okay to admit you made a mistake," Merle tries to be comforting, "But this isn't the right street." "We. Are. Not. Lost." Taako spits out from behind gritted teeth. The truth is, they're lost. Again. At least this time they're in the city. The really shitty part of the city. Neverwinter is still rebuilding from the ravages of the Hunger, which is heartening to see, and also made their entrance easier. Whole sections are still in ruins however, broken and sad as people try to pick up the pieces, but no one notices the two strangers in their midst. Taako had the brilliant idea to cast a camouflage spell on both of them, lest they be recognized before they could find Kalen. He's so used to having one on normally that it hadn't occurred to him at first. He played it off as waiting for the right moment. Somehow, true to their usual adventuring luck, they'd stumbled into the seedy side of town and gotten turned around. He's not scared of what anyone might try to do to them, not when Merle could backhand them into a wall with divine vengeance. It's the principle of the matter, and the fact that they're wasting time that would be better spent fulfilling a blood oath. "Just ask for directions." "No." "Taako," Merle sounds desperate, "Let's just get this over with so we can go home." Taako takes a deep breath. He's right. If anyone out of the three of them was to be the voice of reason-- Two. The two of them. "Fine," he concedes, "I'll ask the next piece of riffraff we see, but I'll have you know it's not my fault if they steal all your gold." Merle makes a comment that it's usually Taako himself doing the stealing, but he barely hears him as they round a corner and nearly collide with a group of rough looking men. He has a moment of regret for making himself look like some sort of ethereal beauty. Merle looks like an unassuming and grubby halfling with the spell, mostly because he thought it would be funny. But now they're staring down three humans and someone who might be half orc, looking at them like treasure has just fallen into their laps. "Hail and well met, my dudes," He forces a smile, "Would any of you happen to know the way to the Cheap Rat?" "That's not a place for the likes of you." One leers at them, at least a full foot taller than Taako. He also smells like he hasn't showered in a week. Gross. "Full of dangerous pieces of riffraff, it is." Oops. Him and Merle make eye contact.

Suddenly, it's show time. He can say later that it was a badass, almost graceful fight, but it was really a lot of screaming and spell casting, over nearly as soon as it started. Merle even gets a hit in with Smoosher for good measure. Taako steps over their unconscious and bloodied bodies with disdain. At least they're not dead. He's pretty sure they're not dead. The amount of fucks he has left to give are approaching a dangerous low. "God, can't ask for one easy job." Taako complains as Merle wipes his warhammer on one of the thug's shirts. "I dunno, that was pretty easy compared to other times." "I'm not sure if anything can top some of those 'other times'," Taako air quotes, "Good shot at his knee, though." "I wasn't aiming for his knees." Merle mutters, and he drops that thread of conversation.

The Cheap Rat is a semi-famous pub in the Rogues Quarter of Neverwinter. It's famous for it's booze, hard-to-find location, the no questions asked policy, and again, the cheap booze. Taako has collected multiple reports of a man matching the slimeball’s description frequenting the establishment. He's reasonably sure this is where they'll find him, and if not, maybe they can get a lead to follow. It's a dingy, beat-up looking place, but is surprisingly crowded and filled with joyous voices within. Another day he might have even considered grabbing a drink there. Taako and Merle turn a few heads when they walk in, but they don't find any trouble beyond having to push through throngs of people to reach the bar. Merle is delighted to find that the bar stools are specifically designed to allow shorter races to climb up them, which is explained when he realizes the woman behind the counter is a halfling. She's installed runners along the back of the bar so she can stand level with even tall elven patrons. "What'll it be, boys?" She asks in a sing-song voice. Another halfling darts behind her with multiple overflowing glasses. As tempting as it is, getting lit probably isn't the best plan. Spell casting while tipsy is a big no-no. "Nothing for me, thanks, but listen, darling," She raises an eyebrow at the pet name but he continues on, "We're looking for a friend of mine." The word 'friend' in this context is like acid on his tongue. Taako smiles through it. She pauses, then leans on the counter towards him. "What kind of friend?" "I thought people didn't ask questions here," Merle pipes in, "Or was that a different rodent-themed bar?" The halfling laughs, and starts pouring a glass of whiskey. "No, you've got the right one. Why don't you two come on back and we can talk?" That sets off a red flag or seventy, but he's not sure he wants to risk trying to read her mind on the off chance the spell will fail. For once they can't rush in and take things with brute force. And he doesn't want any collateral damage, heaven knows Kalen has already caused enough of that already. Magnus wasn't the only one who lost someone when Raven's Roost crumbled. "Alright." He agrees tersely, and Merle follows as the halfling pulls them into a backroom. The door shuts behind them and the sounds of the Cheap Rat instantly cease. Taako senses a warding barrier, typically used against eavesdropping both mundane and magical, and he tries to calm the danger alarms going off in his head. Merle shifts nervously. "I know who you are," She pulls a necklace from under her shirt, "This little baby negates most illusion spells. And may I say, I'm honored to have you both!" Her eyes sparkle with admiration even as he's running through three different escape plans. Like the idiot wizard he was, he never thought that someone might be able to counter something so simple, ruining their disguise and with it the element of surprise. Hundreds of near misses rattle around his head with the chorus of what if, what if, what if; And that's not mentioning the times things went horribly wrong regardless. Merle kicks him. Knocked out of his near-panic trance state, Taako recovers. "Well, uh, that saves us a lot of trouble then." "I'm Tuge," She offers, "Who are you looking for and what can I do to help?" They do their best to explain the situation without giving up too many personal details. The incident at Raven's Roost isn't often talked about, but Tuge already knows about it. Her face darkens when he tells her who they're chasing and why. "That motherfucker," She fishes a key out of her pocket and tosses it to Taako, "Up the stairs, fourth door on the left. Try not to get blood on everything, yeah?" "Loud 'n clear, miss," Merle nods, "Thanks for your time." "Let me know if you need anything else!" Tuge calls after them as they slip out of her warded room and bolt up the tavern stairs. Stealth is neither of their's forte, so he's thankful now for the ruckus of the bar customers below. Even so, they creep along the wall, moving as only fast as they dared to. Taako can barely focus past the rapid fire pace of his heart, ramped up on adrenaline and fear and maybe a little thrill. They reach the fourth door on the left. He places the key in the slot and turns it slowly. They both slip in before slamming it shut behind them. "What the hell?" Snaps a man at the desk. He's aged, but still looking well off enough to maybe pass as nobility. Graying. A little fat. "Who the hell are you?" Taako dismisses the camouflage spell on both of them. Kalen's eyes go wide. "Your worst nightmare." He takes out his wand and Merle casts zone of truth. Because of course he does. At least he's good at it. "It's not--" "Oh no," Merle waves Smoosher, "Oh no, you don't get to try to explain yourself. End of the line, bub." "We were asked to do one thing, and one thing only," Taako snarls, "And that was to kill you fucking dead. This is for Julia." Kalen doesn't have time to grovel before he's shredded by a high-level magic missile.

The trip home to the Bureau of Balance headquarters is done in relative silence. He doesn't want to admit how good it felt to murder that bastard in cold blood. He doesn't want to think about how exhausted it all made him. They sit in the ball in the carrier bay for longer than they need to, quiet, until Avi raps on the glass door. "Uh, guys?" "We're comin'." Merle sighs and pushes the hatch open. Taako follows, mostly on autopilot as Avi chatters about something or other-- "Wait, back up, Magnus is what?" "Crying in the middle of the quad," Avi confirms, "I'm not sure why. The Director-- I mean, Lucretia, she's already there." He groans. He asked Lup to do one goddamn thing. Today has already dragged on too long. Taako braces himself for what they might find while they hurry up to the main level. Lucretia is indeed there, looking more exasperated than concerned, with Magnus sobbing on the grass and Lup gently patting his shoulder. Barry looks like he's asleep face down under a nearby tree. Other employees are giving them a wide berth, with no one even attempting to come close to find out what's wrong. It's a very suspicious scene. "There you two are," Lucretia looks relieved, "He's been like this for the past half hour." "What even happened?" "I promise I'll take care of it and everything!" Magnus weeps, "I can even build a fence so it can't run off the edge of the moon!" "I told him he couldn't get a dog," She explains, "And I really just meant he can't go while he's so... intoxicated? Honestly, I'm not sure what the three of them got into." Taako has a pretty good idea. "It's okay buddy," he hears Lup begin, "I'll go steal you fifty puppies. How does that sound? As many puppies as your big arms can hold." Magnus sniffles. Then he starts crying harder. Lucretia rubs her face. "I guess he's mostly fine." Merle says. Taako tries not to laugh. "I can't protect that many puppies!" Magnus wails, "How am I supposed to protect them all?" "Yeah," Taako agrees, "I think he's gonna be just fine."

#the adventure zone #taz #taz fanfic #blupjeans #sorta #fanfiction #ao3fic #drug cw #murder cw #weed cw #I'll never come up with a better title in my life #that's it I'm all tapped out forever #go home kids #and 420 BLAZE IT #anyway #giraffles

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whimsicaldragonette · 7 years ago

Text

A Crown that Seldom Kings Enjoy

So, I accidentally wrote a completely self-indulgent 8th year secret relationship drarry fic this afternoon, while I was meant to be writing something else. Oops?

As always, you can find me on AO3, FF, or wattpad

“Harry? Where are you going?”

Harry started and glanced back at the common room chairs he’d sworn were empty just a few seconds ago. Hermione peered curiously at him over the top of her book.

“Uh. For a walk?”

It came out sounding like a question, and he kicked himself, feeling uncomfortably like the teenager he had been. Still was, he supposed, though it was easy to forget that, after everything he’d been through the past few years. He shifted slightly, hating himself a little for lying to her, trying to hide the silvery fall of the invisibility cloak draped over his left arm. If he’d known someone would still be up, he’d have put it on earlier.

Hermione’s eyes sharpened, expression morphing from surprised curiosity to concern as she leaned toward him.

“Harry… Is everything OK?”

“What? Of course it is ‘Mione.” He widened his eyes, doing his best to look innocent. The slight crackle of the marauder’s map in his pocket was loud in his ears, and it sounded a lot like guilt.

He didn’t know why he was sneaking around like this, really. It wasn’t like she would say anything, or even be upset at him. Probably.

He thought about telling her. He should tell her. It wasn’t that he liked the sneaking around — although, if he were honest, that was definitely part of it. He just wasn’t sure she’d understand. But then, she didn’t understand a lot of things about him, he thought bitterly.

He knew it wasn’t fair to think that, after all she’d done for him, the way she’d stayed by his side. He didn’t deserve her. And it wasn’t like he’d given her the chance to understand. He wasn’t sure he understood it himself. He’d been sneaking around all year, stuck in this strange limbo that was the unprecedented eighth year. It was supposed to be a chance for everyone to catch up on all they’d missed last year. And he appreciated it, and McGonagall for arranging it, truly he did, but… He didn’t belong with the younger students, the ones not old enough to really feel the impact of the war. And he didn’t belong with the adults. He just felt so… lost.

Hermione was studying him intently, and he really needed to tell her. He would, too. He just hadn’t found the right time.

What about now? His conscience pricked him, but he shoved it down. He didn’t have time right now — he was late as it was. He opened his mouth, knowing he had no idea what would come out, but accepting that telling her something was inevitable—

And then Ron looked up from her other side, and Harry jumped because he’d sworn that chair was empty, and did everyone have a bloody invisibility cloak now?

Ron frowned at Harry for a moment, and then his brow cleared as he placed a hand on Hermione’s shoulder.

“‘Mione, love, it’s all right. Let him go.”

“But Ron! He’s got the cloak and everything — and is that the map in your pocket, Harry?! — And he’s clearly sneaking out, and it’s very late, and—

Ron put a finger over her lips, halting the rapid flow of words. “Yeah, and he’s probably sneaking off to meet up with some girl for a snog. Which is why we’re down here, remember? So keep your voice down, yeah? Or we’ll have the whole house awake.”

Harry jumped slightly, startled, and Hermione turned to Ron, eyes blazing with barely-suppressed fury.

“Do you mean to tell me that you know something, Ron Weasly, and you didn’t tell me?” she whispered.

Harry almost laughed at the affront in her tone.

Ron snorted. “Easy there, ‘Mione. I don’t know any more than you, but it’s obvious he’s in love, isn’t it?”

Harry didn’t wait around for Hermione to recover her voice. He nodded gratefully at Ron and ducked through the portrait hole, swinging the cloak over his shoulders as he went.

The silvery fabric settled around him with a reassuring swish as he walked briskly down the corridor, drawing comfort from its silky embrace. He didn’t look around himself as he walked, too caught up in the roil of emotions Hermione had unwittingly stirred up, but he knew the route by heart. He’d been walking it nightly since practically the beginning of the year.

He supposed he should have expected to be caught sometime, and yet he hadn’t. The other eighth years were so focused on sorting their own love lives, and taming their post-war nightmares, and passing their classes — well, maybe that was just Hermione — that they’d never paid his increasingly frequent absences any mind.

He dodged the occasional loose stone, squeaky floorboard, and unstable suit of armor by instinct. Hogwarts was nearly back to new, after a summer of concerted rebuilding efforts, but his route took him through some of the little-used passages and sections of the castle, and away from the areas where most of the repair effort had been spent.

Ron’s words had shaken him, more even than Hermione’s. He wasn’t in love. He scoffed mentally. That was preposterous. Wasn’t it? He was sure Malfoy would think so. Well, not completely sure, maybe, because he still found him difficult to read, sometimes, even after spending the majority of the year with him.

But he wouldn’t acknowledge Harry in public, or admit they were even on speaking terms, much less… So. Anyway. They weren’t even dating. At least, Harry didn’t think they were. He admittedly didn’t have much experience in that area, but he was pretty sure you had to acknowledge one another’s presence in public for that. Or move beyond last names, which they still hadn’t done — not even in private.

He thought of Malfoy calling him”Harry” in that snooty voice and posh accent, and almost snorted aloud. No. That wasn’t going to happen.

No, he definitely didn’t ‘love’ Malfoy, and they definitely weren’t dating. He shoved down the flicker of unease. They were just…

Well, he wasn’t sure what they were, really. What sort of friend only met you in the dark, to sit in silence, or talk haltingly of the war, or spend hours snogging and getting one another off?

He quickened his pace, remembering Malfoy’s taste, always laced with chocolate, the warmth of his mouth, soft and pliant when it wasn’t busy forming the hard, sharp-edged words he wielded like knives. Malfoy’s mouth was a wonder.

He shoved those thoughts impatiently away as he came to the small, unassuming door that let to long unused classroom - their hideaway. It was better to go in with no expectations. Safer. He ignored the little voice that said he’d die if Malfoy got tired of this, ended their arrangement. Nights spent with Malfoy — no matter what they were doing, or not doing — were the highlight of his year, leaving the daylight hours dull and lackluster. Possibly that had something to do with the sleep deprivation, he thought with some amusement, but most of it was due to the magnetic presence of the slim blonde who awaited him.

He was fine. Really. He could stop anytime, he thought defiantly. His breath hitched traitorously as he reached for the knob, and he willed his pounding heart to still. He turned it slowly, blood pulsing through his veins, suddenly high on anticipation—

And was hauled into the room by the front of his cloak, slammed against the wall, and brutally kissed. He chuckled, relaxing into it, giving as good as he got. So that was how tonight was going to go.

Malfoy broke the kiss to glare at him. “Merlin’s pants, Potter, could you be any slower? I was beginning to think you were standing me up.”

Harry caught the hint of vulnerability hiding beneath Malfoy’s words and felt a thrill run through him. He kissed him back harshly, all tongue and teeth. “Do you really think I would miss this?” he murmured, between kisses that Malfoy wrenched control of, turned languid and slow. “‘Mione and Ron caught me as I was sneaking out.”

Malfoy pulled away abruptly. “Do they know?” he asked, voice rising in panic. “Did you tell them anything? Potter, you fool, they hate me. Do you really think they’ll—“

Harry sighed, pouting a little. “Relax, Malfoy. They don’t know.” He snorted, remembering. “‘Mione was all ready to do her ‘five million questions’ routine, but then Ron told her I was clearly in love and she was so shocked she let me go.” He laughed a little, embarrassed and not sure why. “I’m sure they’ll have plenty of questions tomorrow, but I’ll handle it.”

Malfoy stiffened, eyes glinting steely gray. “I… see. And what will you tell them?”

Harry shrugged, angling for another kiss. “That she doesn’t have to worry about me and that they’ve got it all wrong— Malfoy? Where are you going?”

Malfoy stopped at the door, spine rigid, but he didn’t turn around. “I’ve just realized I’ve somewhere to be.”

“But—“

“Goodbye, Potter,” Malfoy spat. Then he stalked out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Harry stood for a moment and just stared at it. “Bloody hell, you incomprehensible prat, aren’t you going to at least tell me what I did?”

The too-empty room didn’t answer, and Harry turned, slamming his fist into the wall in frustration.

Malfoy ignored him for over a week. Harry, after several failed attempts to get his attention, spent the time brooding. He didn’t fight the dark, familiar cloud that settled over him, buzzing in the back of his head like a swarm of angry bees and turning his thoughts dark. He didn’t need the git, anyway. He barely registered the concern on his friends’ faces, and the way they backed off after one too many shouted confrontations, leaving him to stew.

He tried waiting for Malfoy, hurrying to class early to catch him before he entered the room, but each time he was headed off by Pansy, who glared at him and herded Malfoy away. He grabbed her arm one morning, forcing her into the hallway with him, after she’d thrust Malfoy through the door ahead of her.

“Why is he avoiding me?” he asked, voice breaking in a way he hated. “What did I do?”

She scoffed, glaring at his hand venomously until he relaxed his hold, then jerking her arm from his grip. “One, don’t touch me, and two, I didn’t think even you were that dense.” She stalked stiffly into the classroom, heels clicking angrily against the flagstones, and Harry stomped out to the lake, ignoring Professor Vector’s shouts.

He was angrily chewing a piece of toast at breakfast the next morning when Ron gingerly touched his shoulder. “Harry?” he asked hesitantly, “what’s wrong, mate? Did you break up with mystery girl?”

Harry stared at him, toast hanging forgotten in his fingers. “What? Oh, no… No, really. It’s nothing like that.”

There was a crash to their right, and Ron glanced away from Harry, raising his eyebrows. Harry looked up, right into Malfoy’s slate gray eyes. He stood, arms limp at his sides, tray of food on the floor at his feet, and he looked so hurt. Then he shook himself, glaring daggers at Harry, and then stalked back out of the Great Hall.

Ron snorted. “Wonder what’s his problem?”

Harry looked reflexively over at the Slytherin table, at Pansy, half out of her seat, and he felt a jolt run down his spine at the heat of her glare. She stepped daintily over the mess and strode out of the Hall after Malfoy, and her words echoed in Harry’s memory. I didn’t think even you were that dense.

“Oh,” he said, understanding suddenly, “Oh.” He dropped his toast and jumped to his feet, hauling his bag onto his shoulder. “Sorry, Ron, I, uh, I gotta go.”

He caught up to them in the next corridor, gasping for breath, the air burning through his lungs. “You idiot!” he shouted, grabbing Malfoy by the shoulder and ignoring Pansy entirely, “Why didn’t you tell me that’s how you felt?”

Malfoy glared at him. “You should have known,” he said petulantly, voice small and drowned in hurt.

Harry laughed, relieved. “Yeah, well,” he said, “I’m a Gryffindork, remember? We’re pretty dense.”

Pansy slapped him — hard.

“Ow! What the - what the hell was that for?”

Pansy ignored him. “You OK, Draco?”

He waved her off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said, but he never took his eyes off Harry, as if he feared he might disappear.

Harry smirked at him. “So… can I kiss you now?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “That is not how I want to come out, thanks ever so.” His hand shot out suddenly, wrapping around her wrist. “Come on, Pansy. We’ve plotting to do.”

Harry watched them go, feeling a little lost, until Malfoy looked over his shoulder imperiously. “Well? Are you coming, Potter?”

He grinned. “Not yet, but I’m sure you could do something about that.” He trotted after them, ignoring Pansy’s exaggerated retching sounds.

Harry cleared his throat nervously. “So… we’re really doing this?” He adjusted his tie, fumbling it between suddenly sweaty fingers.

Malfoy glared at him. “Are you telling me that you’ve changed your mind again, Potter?”

“No,” Harry said hurriedly, “of course not. I just know how difficult this is going to be. I mean,” he added weakly, under Malfoy’s withering glare, “it’s me. And, well, you. And everyone is going to pester us, and ask a million questions, and we won’t have a minute’s peace, and—“

Malfoy cut off the flow of words by pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “And we’ve got the invisibility cloak, and the map, and I’m the dreaded ex-Death Eater, and you’re the bloody Chosen One — you can just wave your hand or something and say ‘let me be, peasants’ and they’ll have to leave us alone.”

Harry snorted, but felt the jitters in his stomach ease. “I love you, you know. You insufferable prat.”

He stilled, startled at the words that had just slipped out, quite against his will, and Malfoy positively froze, his gray eyes going wider than Harry had ever seen them. And then he crashed their mouths together in what was most definitely the best kiss of Harry’s life.

“I love you, too, you impossible Gryffindork idiot,” he said fondly, eyes dancing with laughter. “Now, come on, before you mess up your tie. Again.” He paused. “It suits you, you know,” he said awkwardly. Then he grinned. “I always knew you’d look good in Slytherin green.”

Harry laughed. “Liar. Though I must admit that Gryffindor red looks much more dignified on you than anyone else I’ve seen.”

“Naturally,” Malfoy said, preening.

“Come on, prat,” Harry said fondly, lacing their fingers together and tugging him into the Great Hall.

There was no reaction. Well, a few people stared, and there was a bit of pointing and gaping, and quite a lot of whispering, but… Nothing like Harry had expected. He felt oddly wrong-footed.

When they reached the Gryffindor table, Ron scooted down the bench to make room for them, then patted Harry on the head as, not knowing what else to do, he sat, pulling Malfoy down with him. “Knew you were in love, mate,” he said cheerfully around a mouthful of bacon.

“Ron!” Hermione scolded, “Don’t talk with your mouth full! It makes you look like a heathen! Hullo, Harry, Draco.”

Harry knew he was bright red, and his only consolation was that Malfoy was, too. He was adorable, in fact. Harry couldn’t help kissing him on the cheek, and there was a chorus of “awwwww,” and then Seamus leaned around Dean to slap Harry on the back.

“Did you think we didn’t know, mate?” he asked, shaking his head.

Ginny nodded vigorously from across the table. “Yeah, Harry, you’ve been kinda obvious.”

He sighed. “I hate you all,” he said, with rather more fondness than he meant, because Malfoy was leaning against his side, and he was soft and warm, and not really pointy at all. Malfoy was already deep in discussion with Hermione over last night’s Potions reading — which Harry hadn’t bothered to do yet — and talking about their last study session, and when did that happen?

He stared at Ron, peacefully munching through more food than any one person should have been able to eat. “So… you’re really not mad?”

Ron shrugged. “I mean, I personally think you’re off your rocker for choosing him, but… Nah, mate. We’re happy for you, really. ‘Specially after the past week. No offense, but you’ve been hell to be around.”

“Yeah,” Ginny added, “a real downer.”

“Thanks,” Harry said drily, stealing a slice of bacon off her plate. She swatted at him good-naturedly as he crunched into it happily.

“Rude,” she said. Then, after studying him for an uncomfortable moment, chin propped on her hand, she said, “Green suits you.”

Harry grinned. He was… content. He looked over at the Slytherin table, out of habit, even though he knew Malfoy wasn’t there, and he met Pansy’s gaze. She gave him what he now realized was a mock glare, and then lifted her coffee mug in silent toast before turning back to her conversation with Blaise.

Malfoy’s fingers curled around his under the table, squeezing softly, and he squeezed them back. He supposed he could do with a bit of contentment, after everything.

~The End~

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