#like!!! some of the asks were fair but most of the commas were there for SENTENCE FLOW PURPOSES

[mysticarcanum]

love getting an edit request on my writing so stupid that i. what is the meme. turn into the joker? have my joker moment? i am the joker now. i am fucking off from work half an hour early because i am so angry

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

James Potter was not a patient person. That was why he was not good with surprises. When people told him: "I have a surprise for you". He got anxious thinking about what could it be. It reached to the point of nervous pacing, ruffling through his hair for a million times, inconvenient since his hands were very sweaty. All of his body got very sweaty. It was really a nightmare to wait.

So that was why he was moving through Lily's dorm like a freaking tornado. When his girlfriend said she had a surprise for him, he didn't only get anxious, he got excited.

Surprises were somehow romantic. As long as he was the one surprising others.

But anyway, James went through the girls' things like a curious little kid mainly to distract himself. To be fair, the feminine world had wonders to explore. Makeup tools that looked like torture devices. Noisy toys that said things like: "I love you" in a very creepy tone. Fluffy cushions, cases and even pens. Everything was truly fascinating.

James even found a toy cocodrile that when its teeth were pushed, it closed its mouth on one's hand. That made James yell in pain.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked from the other side of the bathroom door.

Besides the nerves, anxiety and excitement eating him alive?

"Yeep!"

Lily giggled.

God! Why was she taking so long?

James wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers, took a seat on Lily's bed and sighed.

That's when Lily came out.

"Okay, I'm ready"

James heard the door opening but he didn't have to turn to feel Lily's presence. Her perfume was delicious and she had bathed herself on it apparently. It gave James pleasant chills. When James turned, he saw his girlfriend had fixed her makeup, with those sparkling shades he loved, pink cheeks and rosy lips. She was truly beautiful.

Lily was also wearing a large blue coat. Closed to her chest.

"Are we going out?" James asked as he stood up and turned to take a better glimpse.

James thought they were doing a movie night and then falling asleep in each other's arms. Like always.

Lily blushed suddenly. Then shook her head with a smile.

Lily looked down and opened the bottoms of her coat so slowly that James felt temped to come closer and help her do it faster. But James was frozen. He shook a little in anticipation. And he didn't even know why.

Though James understood everything when Lily revealed what she was wearing under the coat. It was freaking lingerie.

Transparent red lace. A little dress that reached to Lily's hips. James could see the red underwear underneath it.

James and Lily had been dating for months. And James had never seen Lily without clothes. He had imagined how Lily's underwear would look based on the straps he could sometimes see when she wore tops or the color shape he could distinguish under the white fabric of the uniform's shirt.

But actually seeing Lily like this was beyond comparison. James knew Lily was beautiful. But right now he was realizing she was more fit than he imagined. All those imagination Lilys during those wanking nights couldn't give her justice.

James was speechless. He couldn't breathe. His throat was automatically dry and his body was automatically hot and hard.

"Oh my...." James tried to swallow but his throat was dry. "Jesus Christ"

So now all his saliva was on his mouth because he was drooling.

Lily laughed shyly "Lily Evans, remember?" she said, then started turning around "How do I look?"

When James saw Lily peachy little bum in those panties, his mind exploded provoking some damage because what came out of his mouth was:

"Yer.. lek... I'd.. Jefjd... Oh yeh..."

Lily bit her lip and Oh my God, that gesture wasn't adorable anymore. It was fucking magestic. The most sexy and erotic thing a girl could do.

"Find your words, Potter"

James tried again.

"Am I dead and reached heaven?"

Lily giggled.

"Did I trip and have a concussion? Am I in a comma?"

He pinched his arm and it hurt beautifully. He was alive. And awake!

"I am glad you like it" Lily tried a lower voice that made James's genitals twist inside his pants.

Then Lily covered her face in embarrassment.

"God, is this too much?" She said and James's sweet girlfriend was back "Maybe it was not a good idea"

"It was the best idea!" James exclaimed "Forget about all the ideas that had ever crossed your mind, even the ones that made you say: 'Wow, I am a genius'. This is the best idea someone could ever had. Holy Shit! If ideas had a Prize Novel, this would definitely win"

That made Lily laugh. James was dying inside. He was drunk with needs and instincts he had sworn to keep in control around Lily. His hands wanted to touch. His lips wanted to kiss. His tongue wanted to taste. His dick... Well... Begging for attention.

James and Lily had decided to wait for the perfect time to have sex. James had done it but Lily was still a virgin and sex was a big deal for her. They discussed it. And she saw it differently.

"It's not like I have the need, or I see sex as a fun way to get off" she had explained "For me it is an opportunity to be intimate with the person I love the most in the world. And even if I love you, James. I am not there with you. Please respect that"

It had been a bit frustrating as a horny teenage boy to learn to wait. Especially when Sirius and Remus were all over each other. And were in their honeymoon phase of shagging when they had the minimum chance. But James loved Lily. And he had sworn to himself to be a good boyfriend and not pressure her. He had appreciated other ways of intimacy as well. And everything had been incredible with Lily. Although, God. How much he wanted her.

James's thoughts were interrupted when Lily began singing in a soft melodic voice.

"Stars shinning right abooovee youu...."

James was static as Lily walked closer to him. She was singing with a bright smile on her face.

As she wrapped her arms around his neck she sang "Night breezes seem to whisper..." and then she sang the next part on his ear "I loove you..."

James chuckled happily.

"Birds singing in the sycamore tree...." she almost whispered the next part as she sang looking into his eyes "Dream a little dream of meeee...."

It was kind of impossible to be this in love with someone. They were breathtaking moments when James couldn't believe how amazing Lily was. Not only beautiful and sexy. But truly wonderful. Lily had been an unreachable dream for James. He had fantasized about what she was. Now that he had the real Lily, he had fallen fast. There would be no one in the world like her. Never. And yet, James couldn't believe he had the chance to date her.

Lily pushed James delicately until he was seated in her bed. James didn’t take his eyes away from her. And she climbed on his lap as she sang the next part:

"Say 'Nighty-night' and kiss mee" True to the lyrics she gave him a little peek on the lips. "Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss meee...."

James smiled as he buried his face on Lily's collarbone. Mainly to hide the surprising tears that were threatening to appear. He gave her a little kiss there.

"While I'm alone and blue as can beee...." Lily continued singing and James felt her throat vibrating with her voice. He carried on kissing her there "Dream a little dream of meee...."

Lily stopped singing as she let out a little moan that drove James even more crazy. Her neck tasted so good.

He wanted it all. He wanted to be the first and last man to kiss Lily like this. The only one to be able to touch her, kiss her, provoke those sounds... He was a bit drunk and possive as he kissed Lily's mouth hungrily and pulled her closer...

But James also wanted to be the best boyfriend in the world. A gentleman. Someone she deserved. So he stopped even though his whole body was protesting for more of this delicious feeling.

"Lils," he said with a half a moan but then cleared his throat "Lils, I thought you wanted to wait"

Lily's cheeks were red as crimson. James had never seen her like that.

"I know..." she snorted as she looked down. She got off James's lap. And he regretted saying anything for a second.

"You turn eighteen next week" Lily said and James nodded "And it is the first birthday with me as your girlfriend. I never had a boyfriend before. And I never celebrated a boyfriend's birthday before...." Lily chuckled a bit embarrassed "So when I was thinking about what to give you, I was going through a few ideas... And when our friends told me what they got for you, I realized I am your girlfriend! Not your friend! I should give you something more special, more romantic... Something a friend wouldn't give you".

"Your virginity?"

James was an idiot. It wasn't even funny. It sounded better inside his head.

To his surprise, Lily let out a little laugh.

"I discussed this idea of the lingerie with the girls" Lily explained. "Mary said it would blow your mind and that it would be the best present ever..."

"Mary was absolutely right" James smiled dreamily. Lily smiled back.

"Searching for your perfect present made me realize how in love with you I am. And how I wanted to make you absolutely happy"

James was out of breath. He was so in love with this girl.

"Thank you, beautiful" he said as he put a lock of hair behind her ear "I love you too. And I loved seeing you in that lingerie" he chuckled "Trust me"

Lily chuckled as well, covering her face "Consider it the best birthday of my life!" he added, making Lily laugh

"But we don't have to do anything you don't want..." James added in a serious tone "Like I told you. I want to wait until you are ready" he said "I don't want you to do anything because you think it would make me happy or to be a better girlfriend or because you want to give me a good present"

James made a pause and grabbed Lily's hand.

"Being with you makes me happy. No matter what we do. Even if we just watch a film and snog a little.... Maybe more then a little"

Lily smiled at the last part. Her eyes were glowing or maybe they were sparkling with upcoming tears. James didn’t know. Either way, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

"James" Lily took a deep breath. Then kissed James in a quick peek "The thing is that back when we talked about it for the first time, I thought about having sex with you and it felt weird yet..." she made a pause and looked into James's eyes "But now, when I think about it. I feel goosebumps all over my body. And there's nothing I want more...." she blinked at him as she smiled "All I feel for you is infinite love and I trust you with whatever happens. I might not want you sexually, but I... But I want that intimacy with you"

The way she said it, sent shivers down James's spine. How can someone be this brave to speak about mature themes like those? They were just teenagers. They were so young. Yet, Lily was so wise.

"It is not precisely physical... At least for me" Lily carried on "But I want you to touch my body like it is the most precious treasure you had found. And I want you to make me feel like I am only yours. And I want to trace your body and soul to find a James no one else knows...." Lily's face was very red as she said the next thing "It is about making love. Not having sex. And for that,...." she swallowed "I am absolutely ready"

It was hard to compete with those words. James cursed himself and all the moments that he wanted sex with Lily just because he was horny and he found her absolutely fit. He cursed the moments when he saw Sirius and Remus getting out of the bathroom looking flushed and fixing their clothes and wishing he could have that. Just that easy. Because he was a teenager and he wanted that fun. And he wanted to have sex and brag about it to his mates.

Although now he felt stupid. He felt like an idiot not to want the same as Lily. Not to crave for that kind of intimacy. Now he was so grateful they decided to wait. Because he wanted that. He wanted to feel that close with Lily.

James didn't know how they were going to manage that, but he figured that the love they felt for each other was enough and that it would take care of all of it.

"I love you so much" James practically cried those words as he pulled Lily in for a passionate kiss. Just to show her how in love he was with her.

Lily let out a crying gasp as she melted into the kiss. It was different the way she was kissing him. Not shy and delicate as she always did. It made all of James's body shiver. As Lily climbed into his lap one's again, James felt like a shot of adrenaline rushing through his veins. His body reacting to the way Lily was moving and the way Lily was kissing him.

James pulled away as his eyes focused on the girl's face. Just to make sure. Lily didn't seem uncomfortable like the first time James tried something. She was just radiantly happy.

"I want this so badly, Lily. Everything with you" he said softly as he caressed her cheek "Are you really sure?"

Lily took a second to answer "I want this with you. I want you to be the first. And the only one"

James smiled at this because he thought the same. All the girls he had shagged before had been meaningless. This was for real. He didn't want this with anyone else ever again. James didn’t care if he was too young or that he was still in school and he hadn't met other people yet. It didn't matter, all the pretty girls he could encounter in his life. Lily was the only one for him. Maybe she always had been. Maybe she would always be.

James Potter couldn't love anyone more than he loved Lily Evans.

So he smiled at her, a genuine smirk of happiness. And he kissed her again. His heart was beating so fast that he was worried of having a stroke or something but all of it felt great. Amazing even.

Lily carefully pulled James's shirt over his head with a gorgeous smile. God, this girl was going to be the death of him.

When James was shirtless he laughed. He laughed like a little kid, back when he played chasing with his parents and he was so happy that he wanted that moment to never end.

And everything became less tense when Lily began laughing with him. It was them. James and Lily. They were in love and they felt comfortable around each other.

James flipped them over until he was on top of Lily. And she looked beautiful lying on her bed, her red hair spread on the mattress. She looked happy. James wanted to kiss all of her. He wanted to merge with her until it was only one soul.

"Shall we carry on?" James asked, just in case, but hoping it was affirmative since the bult inside his trousers was difficult to bare.

"Yes, my love" Lily nodded as she giggled.

"I love you" James whispered and he began kissing her neck without restrain. He was reaching heaven right there.

"I love you" Lily responded with a pleasent sigh.

And that was it. James and Lily were entering to paradise and once in there, there was no turning back.

[the-letterbox-archives]

file (2)ALL-59-0200: headcanon game

thank you to @thecomfywriter, @moltenwrites, @thelovelymachinery, and @an-indecisive-nerd for tagging me in! this one is super fun, using the character headcanon generator to come up with headcanons! i've added my own commentary for the ones i generated, too!

i'll be giving all the protagonists from volume 2 some attention here, namely seren marrow (the hunt is a dance), lance dexter (TITANSPINE), shepherd lux (n3xt y3ar), soleil faucher (soleil éteint), and roshan and kåre (shatter the shield)!

seren

‘seren is awful with technology and doesn't know how to use a smart phone.’

well phones don’t exist in her time period so that makes sense

‘seren desperately needs a hug but doesn't know it and refuses to ask for one.’

for lore reasons she would hate being hugged by most people, but if the right person gave her a hug when she needed it she would crumble

lance

‘lance has been cancelled on twitter.’

the foul things this boy would say as a 12 year old on twitter (if twitter existed)

‘lance is trans.’

i mean. yeah. he totally is, that’s canon. hit the nail on the head, didn’t you, headcanon generator?

shepherd

‘shepherd is oblivous to any and all romantic interest someone may show them.’

ok is this a headcanon generator or a canon predictor??

‘shepherd uses the word "fuck" like a comma.’

they’re too pure for that (and there is very little swearing in these documents anyway)

soleil

‘soleil can't handle criticism.’

soleil is the one who criticises, but i can’t imagine they can take it in turn.

‘soleil bites their nails.’

100%

roshan

‘roshan can't sit in a chair properly.’

that probably used to be true, but a lot of unique behaviours of his were swiftly… removed when they became perceived obstacles to his purpose.

‘roshan has an intense fear of heights.’

y’know what, fair played, headcanon generator! I can see that being true!

kåre

‘kåre stole a lollipop at the checkout when they were 5 and they still feel guilty about it.’

the exact situation is impossible but the sentiment is very true

‘kåre hates being alone.’

*side eyes roshan + the entire prologue*

leaving this as an open tag, but alerting the tag list!

@wyked-ao3, @48lexr, @thecrazyalchemist, @yourpenpaldee, @glassfrogforest,

@the-golden-comet, @gioiaalbanoart, @drchenquill, @paeliae-occasionally, @tc-doherty,

@corinneglass, @mysticstarlightduck, @kind-lion, @leahnardo-da-veggie,

@honeybewrites

[alonelystargazer]

For the writers' truth or dare ask game: 🍄🍬🪲🧩

thanks for the ask moth! :)

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

For HakuHiro, I can imagine that neither Hakuri nor Chihiro grew up with friends, and so they are each others first real friends. Hakuri grew up in an abusive household on his family's estate, and only had his pet praying mantis as his 'friend', and most likely didn't go to a traditional school. Chihiro didn't go to school either because him and his dad were in hiding all those years, so he might have been home-schooled and never met any kids his age. They make good partners in battle but they are probably a little awkward as friends at first. And I can't imagine either of them having any experience with dating. To me, it would be pretty funny if Shiba played wingman and gave them advice on how to rizz the other up.

putting the rest under a read more

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

ngl I had a hard time choosing a character because I don't wanna be a hater, but ughhhh I guess I'm gonna go with Gojo, sorry! It's a fairly minor grievance, though.

I don't think Gojo should have allowed Yuuji to pull that prank on Megumi and Nobara when Yuuji came back from his two-months of training. How the hell do you expect those kids, who believed their friend and classmate DIED two months ago, to react when he suddenly pops out of a box all happy and dandy and ALIVE??

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

hehe thanks for encouraging me to write something! my HakuHiro fic hasn't been opened in days 😅

Three months have passed since he fled from his family and the estate. 'Exiled' would be more accurate, in this case. It took the death of that young woman with icy skin to make him realize that lifestyle didn’t suit him at all, and he needed to get away from it. A harsh lesson learned at the cost of her life, and for that he needed to make her sacrifice worthwhile.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

I won't read most dead dove content except for maybe gore and violence.

Any untagged triggers or warnings will also make me click away, not because there's something that I find triggering, necessarily, but I think it should just be common courtesy.

Most people are thrown off by bad grammar or misspellings but I wanna be fair because English could be someone's second or third language, or someone who's just starting out as a writer. But if it does get to a point where's I can't understand anything then yeah I'll stop reading.

There are some formatting choices like no spaces in between paragraphs or super long run-on sentences with 10 commas and nor periods or long blocks of text that will also make me click out of a fic.

[rileyslibrary]

M’AM. M’AM,

How do you write Ghost so amazingly? How can you capture that science of his, that scent, that aura— Im very intrigued!

Please teach me your ways!

How would you describe Simon? Which taste, which color, which smell, which time of the day, and, if an scenery, which?

Do you feel you know any fictional character besides him, that inspired you to write him the way you do?

Or, which is your method that works so well?

Im just mesmerized by the way you do it, and oh! I need to learn and understand if I see something this good!

Hey, anon? What is that orange comma doing in your ask?

Anyway. What I do is pretty simple, to be honest: I eat, digest, and poop.

Hear me out.

I eat the source material both for the OG Ghost plus the comics and the reboot. I don’t write based on them, but I use them to study his character. Most of the time, I read the Wiki pages, watch some cutscenes or let the entire campaign play in the background to “cleanse my palate”.

I digest them with whatever feelings, imagines, or scenarios I have in mind or requests that might inspire me. If I can’t relate to a request or a scenario and can’t picture Ghost in it, I won’t do it.

And then, though it might sound vile and off-putting, I poop the stories, meaning I use whatever build-up emotion or inspiration I have in mind and put it into something tangible.

As for another fictional character that could have inspired me to write him, the answer is no. I feel it’s a betrayal towards the reader and a great injustice for the character to do such a thing. If, for whatever reason, I see that I drift away from Ghost’s personality, I stop writing, sleep on it and possibly revisit it the next day. Or I go through the wiki and cutscenes again. Though the wiki isn’t official, it helps by relating to the character faster than watching/playing the games. As in “ah, I remember this happened, he must have felt like this” or justify a reaction based on the evidence seen in front of me.

And I know what you might say. “If you were so stuck on the source material, what the fuck is Ghost doing searching for a missing cat or attending a career fair at a school?” The key here is imagination. How would a character like Ghost approach such a scenario if he had no choice but to do that? Fiction allows you to bend some rules and reach beyond the source material to ask the “what if” question. You can play with canon, fool around with it, poke it with a stick, as long as you know what happened in canon. And, don’t think you can fool the readers. They can tell if you abuse that freedom, and they end up with a character that doesn’t feel like him.

So there you go; that’s the gist of it. I think that’s the first time I wrote about how I do things, and I don’t know if that’s exactly what you were asking me for, but I hope I helped!

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

🖊️"how does your magic system work?"

😭"what are the biggest challenges writing your WIPs?"

Thank you for the ask! From this ask game.

🖊️"how does your magic system work?"

Skyrim meets Guild Wars? 😂

Humans can have one of seven different magic talents: Elemental (air, fire, water, earth), life, death, and chaos. Most people are drawn to one aspect of their magic, for example Josephine is a water mage, but creates ice, and Cedric is an earth mage with extraordinary control over gemstones.

Meanwhile chaos includes several domains like manifestation (Valadan), illusion (Damien), teleportation, telekinesis, manipulation etc.) Why they name the elements, but not the domains? Uh, perhaps superstition, elemental is reputable, chaos is not. Who knows.

It's basically "focus on something, but it costs energy", and to be fair, most mages are way less powerful than the ones I write about. Which was a nice change of pace in Till Death 😅

Magic talent is innate, and probably inherited in some way, though it's not a given. It would be different for other races, for example Nyvi cannot use magic, but they can work with magical crystals. If I ever hop onto other races, there'll probably be differences there as well.

For kalani, it's very minor differences; their life mages can also be shapers who can grow plants, because well, they're plants. Humans cannot do that.

Really, it's all the exact opposite of a hard magic system, it does what I want, when I want it, and I let them run out of energy juuuust at the right moment. Just like I add other things when I need them: contact with morlit neutralizes magic and sucks the energy out of the user, so it's used to restrain or kill mages. A very rare condition exists where the mage has no control over his magic. What's next? Who knows.

😭"what are the biggest challenges writing your WIPs?"

Since I already answered this one here, another answer: Punctuation.

I had a medium meltdown last night, because I remembered that

a) German had two complete reforms of spelling and punctuation, one when I was just out of primary school, which means it was new for everyone and all the materials were still old, and a second one in 2006 when I finished school, so I never really learned it. And obviously, half of the books I own would be written in old rules.

b) it's all different in English anyway *sobs*

Thanks to Anna, I've gotten way better, but holy shit, I spent half an hour yesterday looking at a sentence, and my understanding of grammar told me there's no comma, but it sounds like a comma, and one cheap check I did told me one's gotta be there, but I am not paying for Grammarly so I don't know the reason for anything, and I'm just gonna quit writing and go back to modding instead, the programming language makes it clear if there has to be a semicolon.

[justmeinatree]

i love talking about my writing so i do not mind all the questions 😂 i've been part of too many fandoms to name here but some of the ones i was the most involved in include Supernatural (still love the show, just don't engage with the fandom much anymore), the MCU (stopped watching the movies after Endgame, went to see Eternals because Harry was in the post credits scene and then fell asleep halfway through and missed him), Star Wars (was more into this when i was younger, these days the only Star Wars media i really care for is Rogue One and nobody else seemed to like that movie lol), Star Trek (mostly TOS), Doctor Who (same thing as Supernatural, still love it just not in the fandom anymore, and the 12th Doctor is my favorite <3), Community (still love the show, probably going to be getting back into the fandom when the movie drops), Les Miserables (i've read the book, seen the Hugh Jackman movie too many times to count, and saw a performance of it a few years back! still love the musical but the fandom feels like it's mostly dead now), Harry Potter (for obvious reasons, I have distanced myself from this one as much as possible but I was a Ravenclaw if anyone was wondering), the Throne of Glass books by Sarah J Maas (actually planning to reread this over the summer! may get back into the fandom, we'll see) and I've been active in the fandom for just about every mainstream horror franchise (and plenty of the more obscure ones too lol). I could probably spend hours creating a comprehensive list of fandoms but i think this is enough for now, unless you're just dying to know more 😂 i started writing in first grade, so around 6 years old. i've known i want to be a writer almost my entire life. i think the first bit of fanfic i ever wrote was for Harry Potter actually, but i don't remember anything about it. and i don't actually know what got me into reading fanfic...i just kind of always remember it being my go-to form of entertainment when i was bored. i am SO sorry for putting a whole novel in your askbox...apparently we're both in very chatty moods today lol

dialogue is the hardest thing for me to write because i always have to rewrite the conversation ten times before i feel like it sounds the way two people would actually speak. i'm much better at giving overly flowery descriptions of the space, and of character's appearances, emotions, etc. i tend to try and limit dialogue as much as i can when possible. my other writing crutch is semi-colons...i simply cannot go a paragraph without including one.

now the pressure is on to keep the fic good for the two of you 😂 i think this is the first time i've been told that two of my readers were talking about my fic beyond the comments section.

i think she's 3 years old? but i always forget. i'll have to ask my mom next time i call her, she's the one that keeps track 😂

-🤘

wow, i cannot comment on any of the fandoms 🫣 don’t rip me apart or anything but i’ve literally never watched a single movie or episode related to any of them 😅 to be fair though, i rewatch the same like 10 tv shows on repeat and i’m not much one for movies 😬 but still that’s so impressive ! HOW did you find so many things that you enjoyed enough to join a fandom ? honestly love all of that for you, and apparently i need to broaden my horizons 😅

that’s crazy how it’s so opposite for us ! conversation is so easy for me to imagine. i wouldn’t even know how to avoid it 😅 semi colons !! never use those bad boys but i’m told i use too many commas. love me a good comma 😂

SHE’S SO CUTE !! i’ve seen the photos you sent and omggg she’s seriously adorable. i don’t know what i was picturing but honestly she’s surpassed the image ! such a fkn cutie 😍😍

[enigmasandepiphanies]

I am supposed to write a poem but I can't and I haven't written in a year and I really wanted to write on this ever since I had a convo with my childhood best friend about how there are people in my city who have roots. That's the term she used. Roots. They have culture, community, they feel they belong, they miss the city, and the city misses them, their mother tongue is here, their families and friends are and they wanna come back here after all this time and I have been born and brought up in this state but the language is not mine. I don't know anything about my ancestry and my grandparents refuse to talk about how they came into this country, how their religion was stamped on their hands as a plea to keep them secure

and it's fucking hilarious that ik Shakespeare, Premchand, Korean nursery rhymes but the only sentence I can say in my mother tongue is "my name is my name" and that's the only sentence I have spoken to anyone who has asked me to talk in my language and I don't know why that's the first thing, maybe I am trying to prove my name exists in my mother tongue

but it is okay, sun poured heat little by little over my maa's aloe vera plant and I grew up with it, making my own culture like yogurt, like bacteria, like fandom. what is a cultural crisis but a stories that end in a comma rather than a period? I grew up reading books, licking the plate of stories from my dad's mythology tales to my mum's same old lion and the mouse story to second hand books from book fairs to young adult novels

and then I discovered fandom and fan culture and fan community and listen, it wasn't online it was irl at the heart of my two childhood best friends with whom I cried over gay characters because they were prisms of our tattered angsty adolescent selves, I sang kpop songs so loud even though I didn't know the lyrics, yet they were more home than my mother tongue. perhaps home is where all attempts to escape cease to exist

and it was a warm home, stories that matter to me, that i giggled over with a lovenote of shared eye glances in literature classes, guess the character games during sports days and dressing up with our fave story characters on a friend's birthday, jumping in corridors, doing the taekook handshake in the homeroom till we almost missed our school bus, narrating character analysis and fanfic plots in early morning bus rides at fucking 7 am but my bestie's ears didn't bleed because in this city, the only place I belong was in fiction, in stories and languages which I didn't know but called home

but we grew up, some stories remained and some became a ruin without a city, without a location, like language, like my mother tongue

perhaps stories meant so much to me because the people did. in my university's literature class, we talk about adaptation and transformative works but how do i tell my professor that we shape stories as much as they shape us, how do i tell them that i don't ever scream to 'you need to calm down' or 'kiwi' without seeing my best friends face in my head, that when my uni friend texted me about do you know hayley kiyoko i didn't tell her about how I loved her album only because my childhood bestie made me listen to it on my scooty (she's lesbian jesus so ofc ik her), how do I tell new bts armys in the movie theatre where I watched the suga documentary that I forgot taekook handshake because the girl who did it with me lives cities away and forgets to message me sometimes but everytime I meet her she hugs me and my 15 year old self, how do I tell a uni friend that run bts is not the same because the person who laughed with me the most during the new years eve is the same one I said bye to this new years

and then there are other stories of how I haven't eaten raw mango popsicles since a year because I was scared I will get sick. the only reason I wasn't getting sick before was because the person-who-laughed-with-me-during-run-bts told me to shut up and enjoy it , how I can never tell someone about fanfic plots is because my childhood friend lives far away and only she knows what I actually mean when I say love is stored in fan fiction. how I can never sit behind her activa while she tells me the meaning of decalcomania. how the people who reshaped those stories with me never knew how they were so important to me because we were reshaping them together. They were not escapism, they were an explanation to who I am. But perhaps they were escaping their homes and found solace in mine, perhaps they were building my home and their home with me too

and will they ever know that i was giving them the tenderness of my mother tongue? well, ocean vuong said sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof you have been ruined. maybe that's why my mother doesn't say any endearments in our mother tongue, because it always ends in partition, a slip of the tongue.

people often tell me that my tenderness is not the tenderness they wanted and it sucks because I try and try and still fail at love languages. sometimes I think I don't know how to give tenderness because I wasn't taught my mother tongue and I constantly seek refuge in another language. how to give tenderness when you have been unkind anyway?

but stories, they are my migration certificate. my uni friends don't realize that. when they don't understand why fandom and stories are so important to me, I close my eyes and think about how longing is such a gullible word for something so predatory.

oh btw decalcomania is a technique used by some surrealist artists which involves pressing paint between sheets of paper and when you open it it's symmetrical. in the song she and I loved it meant when two people have something in common

but what storytellers and storylovers like to forget is when someone joins you on the page of your book, they will not stay on that page for long

because stories continue and goodness, I actually love life because stories continue

and in the end, I am a fan of many fandoms and ik people who know how much that story meant to them will come back to it, write fics and tumblr posts and lovingly caress that annotated page where we first joined hands

shit I still can't write the poem and this one ends with a comma, but hey stories continue

okkiee lol this was brought to you by this mindfucking convo I had with my friends, but also some of this will actually end up in that poem , this is just a mishmash about cultural crisis, career crisis, do I wanna settle in abroad crisis but in the end stories are always home literally like some people don't understand how big it is for me

and sidenote my friend who has "roots" said this which I think is very sweet ahh

[sanversandfriends]

From high stakes Survivor contests to White Martian imposters, @brinshannara has been weaving epic Sanvers tales since we first fell in love with Alex and Maggie on our screens. Today she's here to talk about the importance of having a good beta reader, as well as finding the equilibrium between self-doubt and trusting your voice.

Tell us a little about yourself. How did you get started writing fic? Have you written for other fandoms? What are your favorite tropes?

I first started writing fic when I was but a wee lass of 17 or so. I was, in a word, awful. I was absolutely obsessed with Captain Picard and Dr. Crusher (and still am -- they are my first OTP). I've dabbled in the Buffy fandom (Willow/Tara, obviously), the BAM fandom (Bianca and Maggie from All My Children), the Otalia fandom (Olivia and Natalia from Guiding Light), but nothing ever quite struck me the way Sanvers did, so it is BY FAR my most prolific fandom. Favourite tropes really have to do with panicked baby gays or people who develop Those Feelings for their friends. Also, I adore "There Was Only One Bed" and "Fake Dating".

What were your inspirations for this particular story? What was it about this/these ships that grabbed you?

This story is a sequel I always wanted to write and ran out of time to do -- and I'm still struggling with it. I love the concept. I know what happens. It's just so rough to write it all out! Can't I just THINK about it and have it write itself??? But yeah, I love Survivor, I love Sanvers, so the first story kind of wrote itself. This one is not even slightly cooperating. What was it about this ship? I mean, it's SANVERS. Need I really say more? haha

Has the time spent away from your story changed your outlook or approach to any of the storylines or themes? Have you had any new inspirations or breakthroughs/revelations in the meantime? 

Somewhat, in that I've watched a fair amount of Survivor since I first stopped writing this story and so that's always helpful, to see how others play the game, what challenges I can draw on, etc. I've also had a chance to review my spreadsheets for things and made a couple of edits that I'm happy with. Theoretically, that should allow me to write more due to those edits.

Any advice for new or aspiring fic writers?

- Keep working at it. If it's your first time writing in a long while, like since high school or college, chances are it'll be rough. That's okay. First, all things can be edited and second, nothing is set in stone.

- Find a kind beta reader who will ask you what you want them to focus on: plot? character development? grammar and spelling? All of the above? And if you feel strongly about a suggested change, ask yourself why you feel strongly: is it because someone is challenging you on something you wrote or is it because you really feel you have a case? It can be really helpful to discuss things with others, particularly if you feel strongly about them.

- Try to emulate (not copy!!! Emulate!) styles that you like. Watch where paragraph breaks are used. Understand how to use commas and double quotes. Try to understand why your favourite authors do X, Y or Z. Heck, ask them if you like! Just be polite. :)

If you were going to promote this fic with a single line, what would it be? 

Sanvers: Blood vs. Water: Will Margarita Sawyer-Danvers beat her wife, Alex, at Survivor again or will Alex even the score this time around?

If you’ve already posted some of your work, please provide a link. 

[duckprintspress]

How to Edit an Over-Length Story Down to a Specific Word Count

One of the most wonderful things about writing as a hobby is that you never have to worry about the length of your story. You can be as self-indulgent as you want, make your prose the royalist of purples, include every single side story and extra thought that strikes your fancy. It’s your story, with no limits, and you can proceed with it as you wish.

When transitioning from casual writing to a more professional writing milieu, this changes. If you want to publish, odds are, you’ll need to write to a word count. If a flash fiction serial says, “1,000 words or less,” your story can’t be 1,025 and still qualify. If a website says, “we accept novellas ranging from 20,000 to 40,000 words,” your story will need to fall into that window. Even when you consider novel-length works, stories are expected to be a certain word count to fit neatly into specific genres - romance is usually around 80,000 words, young adult usually 50,000 to 80,000, debut novels usually have to be 100,000 words or less regardless of genre, etc. If you self-publish or work with a small press, you may be able to get away with breaking these “rules,” but it’s still worthwhile to learn to read your own writing critically with length in mind and learn to recognize what you do and do not need to make your story work - and then, if length isn’t an issue in your publishing setting, you can always decide after figuring out what’s non-essential to just keep everything anyway.

If you’re writing for fun? You literally never have to worry about your word count (well, except for sometimes in specific challenges that have minimum and/or maximum word counts), and as such, this post is probably not for you.

But, if you’re used to writing in the “throw in everything and the kitchen sink” way that’s common in fandom fanfiction circles, and you’re trying to transition only to be suddenly confronted with the reality that you’ve written 6,000 words for a short story project with a maximum word count of 5,000...well, we at Duck Prints Press have been there, we are in fact there right now, as we finish our stories for our upcoming anthology Add Magic to Taste and many of us wrote first drafts that were well over the maximum word count.

So, based on our experiences, here are our suggestions on approaches to help your story shorter...without losing the story you wanted to tell!

Cut weasel words (we wrote a whole post to help you learn how to do that!) such as unnecessary adverbs and adjectives, the “was ~ing” sentence structure, redundant time words such as “a moment later,” and many others.

When reviewing dialog, keep an eye out for “uh,” “er,” “I mean,” “well,” and other casual extra words. A small amount of that kind of language usage can make dialog more realistic, but a little goes a long way, and often a fair number of words can be removed by cutting these words, without negatively impacting your story at all.

Active voice almost always uses fewer words than passive voice, so try to use active voice more (but don’t forget that passive voice is important for varying up your sentence structures and keeping your story interesting, so don’t only write in active voice!).

Look for places where you can replace phrases with single words that mean the same thing. You can often save a lot of words by switching out phrases like “come back” for “return” and seeking out other places where one word can do the work of many.

Cut sentences that add atmosphere but don't forward the plot or grow your characters. (Obviously, use your judgement. Don't cut ALL the flavor, but start by going - I’ve got two sentences that are mostly flavor text - which adds more? And then delete the other, or combine them into one shorter sentence.)

Remove superfluous dialog tags. If it’s clear who’s talking, especially if it’s a conversation between only two people, you can cut all the he saids, she saids.

Look for places where you've written repetitively - at the most basic level, “ ‘hahaha,’ he laughed,” is an example, but repetition is often more subtle, like instances where you give information in once sentence, and then rephrase part or all of that sentence in the next one - it’s better to poke at the two sentences until you think of an effective, and more concise, way to make them into only one sentence. This also goes for scenes - if you’ve got two scenes that tend towards accomplishing the same plot-related goal, consider combining them into one scene.

Have a reason for every sentence, and even every sentence clause (as in, every comma insertion, every part of the sentence, every em dashed inclusion, that kind of thing). Ask yourself - what function does this serve? Have I met that function somewhere else? If it serves no function, or if it’s duplicative, consider cutting it. Or, the answer may be “none,” and you may choose to save it anyway - because it adds flavor, or is very in character for your PoV person, or any of a number of reasons. But if you’re saving it, make sure you’ve done so intentionally. It's important to be aware of what you're trying to do with your words, or else how can you recognize what to cut, and what not to cut?

Likewise, have a reason for every scene. They should all move the story along - whatever the story is, it doesn’t have to be “the end of the world,” your story can be simple and straightforward and sequential...but if you’re working to a word count, your scenes should still forward the story toward that end point. If the scene doesn’t contribute...you may not need them, or you may be able to fold it in with another scene, as suggested in item 6.

Review the worldbuilding you’ve included, and consider what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. A bit of worldbuilding outside of the bare essentials makes a story feel fleshed out, but again, a little can go a long way. If you’ve got lots of “fun” worldbuilding bits that don’t actually forward your plot and aren’t relevant to your characters, cut them. You can always put them as extras in your blog later, but they’ll just make your story clunky if you have a lot of them.

Beware of info-dumps. Often finding a more natural way to integrate that information - showing instead of telling in bits throughout the story - can help reduce word count.

Alternatively - if you over-show, and never tell, this will vastly increase your word count, so consider if there are any places in your story where you can gloss over the details in favor of a shorter more “tell-y” description. You don’t need to go into a minute description of every smile and laugh - sometimes it’s fine to just say, “she was happy” or “she frowned” without going into a long description of their reaction that makes the reader infer that they were happy. (Anyone who unconditionally says “show, don’t tell,” is giving you bad writing advice. It’s much more important to learn to recognize when showing is more appropriate, and when telling is more appropriate, because no story will function as a cohesive whole if it’s all one or all the other.)

If you’ve got long paragraphs, they’re often prime places to look for entire sentences to cut. Read them critically and consider what’s actually helping your story instead of just adding word count chonk.

Try reading some or all of the dialog out loud; if it gets boring, repetitive, or unnecessary, end your scene wherever you start to lose interest, and cut the dialog that came after. If necessary, add a sentence or two of description at the end to make sure the transition is abrupt, but honestly, you often won’t even need to do so - scenes that end at the final punchy point in a discussion often work very well.

Create a specific goal for a scene or chapter. Maybe it’s revealing a specific piece of information, or having a character discover a specific thing, or having a specific unexpected event occur, but, whatever it is, make sure you can say, “this scene/chapter is supposed to accomplish this.” Once you know what you’re trying to do, check if the scene met that goal, make any necessary changes to ensure it does, and cut things that don’t help the scene meet that goal.

Building on the previous one, you can do the same thing, but for your entire story. Starting from the beginning, re-outline the story scene-by-scene and/or chapter-by-chapter, picking out what the main “beats” and most important themes are, and then re-read your draft and make sure you’re hitting those clearly. Consider cutting out the pieces of your story that don’t contribute to those, and definitely cut the pieces that distract from those key moments (unless, of course, the distraction is the point.)

Re-read a section you think could be cut and see if any sentences snag your attention. Poke at that bit until you figure out why - often, it’s because the sentence is unnecessary, poorly worded, unclear, or otherwise superfluous. You can often rewrite the sentence to be clearer, or cut the sentence completely without negatively impacting your work.

Be prepared to cut your darlings; even if you love a sentence or dialog exchange or paragraph, if you are working to a strict word count and it doesn't add anything, it may have to go, and that's okay...even though yes, it will hurt, always, no matter how experienced a writer you are. (Tip? Save your original draft, and/or make a new word doc where you safely tuck your darlings in for the future. Second tip? If you really, really love it...find a way to save it, but understand that to do so, you’ll have to cut something else. It’s often wise to pick one or two favorites and sacrifice the rest to save the best ones. We are not saying “always cut your darlings.” That is terrible writing advice. Don’t always cut your darlings. Writing, and reading your own writing, should bring you joy, even when you’re doing it professionally.)

If you’re having trouble recognizing what in your own work CAN be cut, try implementing the above strategies in different places - cut things, and then re-read, and see how it works, and if it works at all. Sometimes, you’ll realize...you didn’t need any of what you cut. Other times, you’ll realize...it no longer feels like the story you were trying to tell. Fiddle with it until you figure out what you need for it to still feel like your story, and practice that kind of cutting until you get better at recognizing what can and can’t go without having to do as much tweaking.

Lastly...along the lines of the previous...understand that sometimes, cutting your story down to a certain word count will just be impossible. Some stories simply can’t be made very short, and others simply can’t be told at length. If you’re really struggling, it’s important to consider that your story just...isn’t going to work at that word count. And that’s okay. Go back to the drawing board, and try again - you’ll also get better at learning what stories you can tell, in your style, using your own writing voice, at different word counts. It’s not something you’ll just know how to do - that kind of estimating is a skill, just like all other writing abilities.

As with all our writing advice - there’s no one way to tackle cutting stories for length, and also, which of these strategies is most appropriate will depend on what kind of story you’re writing, how much over-length it is, what your target market is, your characters, and your personal writing style. Try different ones, and see which work for you - the most important aspect is to learn to read your own writing critically enough that you are able to recognize what you can cut, and then from that standpoint, use your expertise to decide what you should cut, which is definitely not always the same thing. Lots of details can be cut - but a story with all of the flavor and individuality removed should never be your goal.

Contributions to this post were made by @unforth, @jhoomwrites, @alecjmarsh, @shealynn88, @foxymoley, @willablythe, and @owlishintergalactic, and their input has been used with their knowledge and explicit permission. Thanks, everyone, for helping us consider different ways to shorten stories!

[pastafossa]

Can I ask what you used to learn & practice to write the way you do because a) I'd also like to improve my writing and b) because you are one of the most talented & extraordinary writer I've EVER come across on A03

Thank you so, so much, I'm honored! 😭 I can, absolutely!

So a big thing I used to learn writing is, I read a ton (had way more time for it a few years ago, but that's where a lot of the foundation was). And one of my English professors once told me, 'if you want to write a novel or story, go back and read your favorite books, but read them as a writer and not just as a reader'. And once I did, I understood what she meant. I'd read back over these books I loved, only now I was looking for why I loved them so much (and I still do this some when reading). If something hit me emotionally hard, why? Was it the body language? Their emphasis on description? If they set up an elaborate, 'SURPRISE!', how was it done? How did they lay clues? How did the author write this out? It helps a ton to look at the structural framework of something you love, and so one of the things you can easily use, that I used, is literally just your favorite books. My favorite series is Dresden Files, for example, and that's where I learned a lot about how one can write internal dialogue, action scenes, and laying clues. I also try to read books by popular authors (that I enjoy, don't get me wrong) so I can look at their techniques and hunt down new things to try. <3

Second, I'm going to rec one of my favorite books that helped me with learning to write emotions (which anyone who's read TRT knows I focus on fairly regularly). I literally always write with this nearby: The Emotion Thesaurus. The 1st edition I have has 75 emotions, and each has a connected list of physical body language signals, internal sensations, mental responses, cues of acute or long-term feeling of that emotion, and cues of suppression of that emotion. The 2nd edition now has 130 emotions (haven't had a chance to look through that one yet). That book helped teach me about linking emotion to sensory descriptions - physical, mental, internal, and then with time or suppression.

Third: if anywhere near you or online has a free class on creative writing and you have the time, I'd give it a shot! I took a fair amount of English classes in college, admittedly, but even once I was done, I kept an eye out and I've managed to get into some free or cheap classes. Some are pretty terrible, a lot are just middle of the road, and then every once in a while you get an amazing one where you hear hysterical gems like, "your job as an author is to cause pain. Embrace it! You're a sadist now," and then you learn how to torment characters with unique acts of suffering. So there's always something to learn, even in the terrible classes (it's sometimes just, 'don't do this one thing').

Writers Groups! I have had some very kind and very honest writers groups over the years that have helped me learn where my weaknesses were as a writer. One of my biggest issues used to be overdescription of everything (I wish I was joking, RIP to my early readers), and I didn't even realize it was a problem until I joined a writers group and they pointed out that things were a bit unnecessarily wordy.

Grammarly is something I use for every chapter. I generally edit my chapter, paste it into Grammarly, and then it hits me with a newspaper points out politely where I can take out some unnecessary commas. Grammarly reminds me not to get cocky. Grammarly humbles us all.

Those have been my biggest resources on learning over the years: published books I loved, books like The Emotion Thesaurus, taking writing classes whenever I could, writers groups, and Grammarly. I try to consider myself a constant student, always learning! After that, it's just practice-practice-practice. Pastafossa is, I think my third pseudonym over ohgodtoomanyyears of writing fanfic and original stories on and off. In the beginning, my fanfiction was terrible (seriously, I found some the other day on an old hard drive and, good god 😂). I've tried my hand at one-shots, parody (I wrote a bad smut fic for Dragon Age a while back and LORD that was wild), humor, prompt challenges. Try everything! Some of it will fail miserably, but much like the terrible writing classes, at least you learn something, and then you use that for next time. ❤️

[winterscaptain]

a kindness.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: it is loving megan kane hours!! i’ve been working on this one for a while and i am so excited to share it with you!! we have ajf!pleasure is my business at last! as always, tell me what you think!! i adore your feedback. also, if you’re thinking ‘what the hell, tali! why am i missing from the tag list?????’ it’s because i redid it! the link to the form is below.

words: 4.8k warnings: language, canon-typical death, canon-typical discussion of sex work

summary: “i believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy.” ― steve martin. au!february 2009

a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

You rap twice on the office door before pushing it open with your fingertips, peering inside while ready to retreat at a moment’s notice.

There’s no need. Aaron’s alone. 

“You’re here early,” he says, his eyes still on his paperwork. 

You snort. “So are you.” 

He looks at you over his nose. “Can I help you with something?”

Sitting down opposite him at his desk, you prop your chin on your hands and grin at him. “You stole my line.” 

“Get out of my office.” 

Your smile stays plastered on your face as you stand and cross the room, closing the door behind you. On your way out, you catch the ghost of his smile. 

+++

You watch Hotch leave the bullpen, his go-bag slung over his shoulder. 

“Where you headed?” You ask, looking up. You’re still the only one in the bullpen, taking a few consults off your teammates’ hands by typing up quick briefs they can review without going through every single comma in the file. 

He sighs. “Dallas.”

Yikes. 

“By yourself?”

He sighs. “Standby - not sure what’s going on yet. Can you -” He gestures to the hallway behind you.  

You nod and stand. “Yeah. Fly safe.” 

After you watch him leave, you turn and make a beeline for JJ’s office. She’s here early, too - pushing away the separation anxiety by diving into work. 

“Jayje?” 

She looks away from her computer, looking exhausted. “Yeah?” 

“Hotch just left for Dallas - we might have a case there, but it didn’t sound like something that would come across your desk.” 

She squints. “Why d’you say that?” 

“He had that look on his face like he was going into a room full of lawyers.” 

+++

You lean forward, jamming yourself into the circle around the table with the rest of your team. Hotch, on the other end of the line, sounds oddly well-rested. 

Spencer, as usual, gives you the history and textbook briefing before you get to the actual case. “Female serial killers are a fascinating field. We don't have much information on them, but what we do know involves throwing the rules completely out the window. Signature, for instance. They don't torture or take trophies.” 

“Because there’s no sexual gratification when a woman kills,” Derek adds. 

Looks like we’re all getting in on the pre-brief today. 

“Exactly. Murder is the goal. They don't have to do anything extra.” 

That makes you laugh a little. “So, basically, women are more efficient at killing?” 

Spencer shrugs. “Historically, they’ve had body counts in the hundreds.” 

Hotch, of course, is the one to get you all back on track. “So, assuming that the job is the stressor, what are some of the reasons prostitutes kill their customers?”

Derek, of course, is the first to follow. “Money, drugs, post-traumatic stress disorder…”

The team bounces for a moment, covering previous cases of serial killers with a history of sex work. Emily brings up Allison Wuornos, but Aaron shuts it down. He thinks this killer is organized, not so much driven by trauma or need but the mission itself. 

Spencer looks at the medical examiner’s reports again, comparing notes between the victims. “She’s using tetra-methylene-disulfotetramine.” 

You don’t look up from the same report. “Bless you.” 

Emily snorts. 

Spencer continues, unperturbed. “It’s a popular rat poison in China - easily soluble in alcohol.” 

“Poison is the perfect M.O.,” Dave notes. “Quiet, quick, and the victims never see it coming because they think they’re getting lucky.” He turns back toward the phone. “Does that mean something to you?” 

“Well, at $10,000 a night, these men are paying for discretion as well as sex.” 

Fair point.

“She has a history with them. They see her repeatedly.” 

You look over at Dave, trying to find the thread that connects Aaron’s thought to his.

Before you can really get to it yourself, Aaron spells it out for you. “She didn't decide to kill them in the moment. She walks in with the intent to kill them and she's doing it before she sleeps with them.” 

There we go. 

“So she's not just organized,” you add. “She's also methodical. Could she be parsing out which clients are worth killing and which aren’t?” 

“Maybe the victims all share the same fetish?” Emily offers. 

Derek shrugs, his eyebrows raised in thoughtful agreement. “Both victims were in their fifties, highly visible. Careful about their image. I mean, if they were kinky in the same way, they'd go to great lengths to hide it.” 

“And we're facing a corporate culture that'll do everything it can to keep us out.”

There’s the exhaustion I’m used to from Hotch. 

He sounds weird without it. 

“Actually,” JJ says, “I had some luck there. Hoyt Ashford's wife isn't too happy with how he died. But because every silver lining has a dark cloud, the hedge fund released a statement.” 

JJ pulls the statement from her file and reads aloud: “Ashford died peacefully in his home, according to lawyer David Madison.” She puts it down again. “They're already trying to close ranks.” 

Spencer frowns. “Does that language sound familiar to anyone else?” 

“What do you mean?” You ask. 

“The press release from the first victim.” He recalls, not needing the paper itself. “‘According to company lawyer, Stanton died peacefully in his home.’” 

Hotch begins to make assignments, directing Emily and Derek to the wife of the second victim. JJ’s tasked with the lawyers and you’re tasked with setup at the precinct with Spencer and Dave. When he’s done, you pick your phone up from the table, taking him off speaker. 

“What are you gonna do?” You ask.

Hotch snorts. “I’m gonna see which of the lawyers calls us back and in the meantime, see what I can get out of anyone else.” 

“Good luck.” 

+++

You’re up in your hotel room, getting a little bit settled and unpacked when you get a call to your cell. 

“Hey, Hotch.” 

There’s a sigh. “We got another body.” 

“I’ll meet you downstairs in five.” 

+++

You hop out of the car, following Aaron through the service entrance and up the back hallways to the lobby. Between your travel from your room and Aaron’s wrap-up in his, Derek and Dave beat you to the scene. 

Hotch is wearing that coat - your favorite, the one he’s apparently had for years - with the red lining and the soft wool exterior. It so rarely sees the field anymore you were afraid he’d done away with it, but every time you remember it exists and worry about its whereabouts, he brings it out again. 

Derek hands you a notebook when you reach him. You settle near Dave for the rest of the info. He, of course, delivers. 

“Victim was Joseph Fielding. He was the CFO here.” 

You frown. “Poisoned? Like the others?” 

“And staged,” Derek says. “She killed him in his office and then rolled him out here to be found.” 

“The lipstick's new,” you muse, circling the body in the elevator. “Done postmortem, it looks like.” You find Derek’s eyes with a little frown. “Reid said female serial killers don't leave a signature. I think she did that just for us. She's already exposed him at his most vulnerable.”

He hums. “Now she wants to be noticed.”

There’s some kind of scuffle at the police line - another man in a suit who thinks he’s more important than God. 

Hopefully he’s looking for Hotch. 

“Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?” 

Ugh. Good. 

You step back and point at Aaron, getting out of his way as he shoves past the crime scene techs. 

Aaron turns. “I'm Hotchner.” 

“Larry Bartlett.” The man holds out his hand, but Aaron doesn’t take it. He retracts his hand with an unperturbed tilt of his head. “I represent Mr. Fielding in Webster Industries. 

Hotch, as usual, has no time for his bullshit. “This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett.” 

My lawyer could kick your lawyer’s ass. 

That’s a good bumper sticker. 

You shake off your thought and return to the victim, directing one of the younger crime scene techs. After a moment, you return to Derek’s side. 

“Yes. I spoke to Ellen Daniels.” This clown still sounds far too confident for his own good. “She said you're a very... reasonable man.” 

“Escort him out, please.”

You stifle a laugh. 

“No, wait. Please.” The lawyer - Mr. Bartlett - shrugs off the security team and chases after Hotch on his way to your side.  

Aaron stops, but looks inconvenienced in the extreme. 

“The press is outside and they can smell blood. Any way we can handle this discreetly?” 

“We're not about to lie for you.” Derek’s even less amused than Aaron, if that’s even possible. 

Aaron squints at the other lawyer, and you find it nearly impossible to tear your gaze from the little pinch at the corners of his brown eyes. 

You can only imagine him behind a prosecutor’s bench, laying into witnesses with the same deadpan amusement - like a bored cat with a half-dead mouse. Hoping to back him up a little bit, you get a little closer, looking skeptically at the lawyer from over Aaron’s shoulder. 

“You don't have to lie,” Mr. Bartlett insists, his eyes flickering to you. “Just don't comment.” 

“Excuse us.” He takes you by the shoulder and leads the three of you into a huddle. 

“Is there any reason to go public yet?” Aaron asks. 

Dave wavers. “Validating her is exactly what she wants.”

“If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake,” Derek says. 

You raise your eyebrows, looking over your shoulder for a moment. “He doesn't need to know that.” 

Hotch’s mouth twitches, and you know it’s almost a smile. He turns over his shoulder, back in game mode as he approaches Bartlett again. “We need everything you have on Fielding. Bank accounts, tax records, emails, everything.” 

+++

“Eighteen cars, six houses, and three boats.” Spencer rattles off the numbers with only the barest hint of shock in his voice. 

Your brow pinches and you look up. “Can you even boat in Dallas?” 

“You know, when you're talking about that much money, ten grand for a call girl is like deciding where to go for dinner.” 

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience, Em,” you laugh. 

She rolls her eyes, still pinning photos to the board. “Yeah, right. My mom had a pretty cushy gig with her postings, but we were never that well-off. But...” She looks over her shoulder, “I’m sure Rossi would know a little something about that.”  

Before you can all get too out of control, Hotch reaches over you to connect to Garcia on the speakerphone. “Are you there, Garcia?” 

“Affirmative.” 

JJ flags him down. “I have half a million over here for something called the Bat Cave...” 

It really takes everything in you not to laugh. 

“...and here's a picture of him as fetish Batman. That is… wrong.” 

Emily pulls a face. 

“Is there anything this guy didn't like to spend money on?” Spencer asks.  

“Yeah,” Aaron replies. “His ex-wives. Fielding was married four times. He didn't have prenups for the first two, but he did everything he could to cut them off anyway.” 

You lean forward, trying to see the paper in his hands. “Are there children involved?” 

“Yes, with three of the wives.” He hands it over to you and looks at Emily. “Hoyt Ashford was married a few times, too, wasn't he?” 

She nods in the affirmative. 

“You know, considering that when Kevin takes me to dinner and a movie, he defaults on his student loans, this amount of money is sick.” 

Tell me about it, Pen. 

Emily sounds resigned. “What did you find?” 

Garcia outlines a series of bitter court battles about child support, alimony, custody, etc. “And even when the court ruled in the wife’s favor - which was almost always - these three charmers just, you know, decided not to pay.” 

Hotch asks for a cross-checked list of high-profile Dallas CEOs holding out on their ex-wives, and you figure it’s not a short one. 

“One loaded losers list, Dallas edition, comin' at ya. Penelope out.” 

The line goes dead and Aaron turns off the speaker.  

“So,” Aaron leans heavily on the table. “Why would a prominent businessman who could easily pay child support refuse to?” 

Spencer obliges. “For this type of overachieving personality, paying money after the marriage ends probably offends him.” 

“They're spending tens of thousands on an escort, but they won't drop a dime on their wife and kids? That's cold.” JJ shakes her head and looks over at Hotch, seeking an answer. 

“Narcissistic, self-absorbed, a pathological avoidance of paternal responsibilities.” 

There’s an odd kind of look that passes over Aaron’s face as he speaks, and you pin it for later. You can already tell he’s falling into a headspace that’s fraught with comparison and self-loathing. 

They bounce around for a moment while you keep your eyes on Aaron. 

“Well,” JJ brings you back. “Should I assemble the police for a profile?” 

Your mouth twists. “I just don't think it's gonna help.”

“She lives in a completely different world than they do,” Aaron adds. 

“And,” Emily pipes up, “the CEOs who sleep with her won't admit to it.” 

JJ snorts. “Like I couldn't even get past the team of lawyers protecting them.” 

“What if we give the profile to the corporate lawyers?” Aaron stands straight, his hands resting on his hips. “They've cleaned up after her, even if they don't realize that they've seen this woman.” 

“Why would they go for that?” You ask. 

“Because she's putting them at risk, too.”

Your phone rings and you answer as you always do, chirping your last name into the receiver without really looking too closely at the caller ID. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

You nod once to your team as you step out of earshot. “Hey, Haley.”

“I can’t get a hold of Aaron. Is everything alright?” She’s beyond surprise or concern at this point. You’re sure you could tell her Aaron’s been shot in the head and she’d probably just hum at you. 

“Yeah,” you say with a sigh. “Things are crazy and there are lawyers all wrapped up in this. Are you alright?”

“Jack’s got a fever - I just wanted to let Aaron know I’m taking him in to get checked out. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll let him know. Give Jack a big kiss from me and I’ll do my best to get us all home quickly and in one piece.” 

She laughs a little into the phone. “Thanks. Will do. Talk soon.” 

You hang up and return to the table, shooting Hotch a significant look. He nods and pulls you aside. 

“What’s up?” 

“Jack has a fever - Haley just wanted me to let you know she’s taking him to the pediatrician to get him all checked out, just in case. I told her we’d all do our best to get home soon.” 

Aaron sighs and flips his phone in his hand. “I’ll call her now…”

“No need. She knows this is a tough one and you’re getting your money’s worth out of your JD this week.” 

When he starts to walk away, you call his name again. He turns. 

“You know - um.” You wet your lips and swallow. “You’re not like these guys. You know that, right? You’re a great dad.” 

His face lifts in surprise for a fraction of a second before he recovers. 

“Thank you,” He says. “Really.”

You offer him a crooked smile. “Anytime.”

+++

Hotch stops you all before you enter the conference room, full to the brim with suits and pantsuits. “Let me lead on this one. I’ve handled corporate lawyers like this before and they can smell blood.” He snorts. “This time, it’s their own.” 

You and Derek raise your hands in simultaneous and identical postures of surrender. 

“Have at it,” you say, falling into line behind Aaron. “Corporate lawyers scare the fuck out of me.” 

+++

“Hey, Prentiss. Got a whip?” Derek holds the leather outfit to Emily’s shoulders and she laughs. 

“Yeah, right.” 

You fondly roll your eyes at them and continue following off Aaron’s right shoulder. The two of you reach the bookshelf - an impressive glass case that runs from the floor to the ceiling. 

 Aaron’s gloved finger opens the case and runs over some of the spines. “Antique first editions on the bookshelves.” 

Rossi quips something about porn in the DVD player while Spencer espouses about the merits of a disposable, adaptable lifestyle in this line of work. 

“Well, these aren't just for show,” Aaron says. “The spines are cracked. Somebody's read these.” 

You peer over his shoulder. “Who reads Voltaire in French?” 

“Someone with good taste. Probably well-educated…”

You pick up where he trails off. “We profiled that she learned to fake privilege. What if she's not faking it?” 

“You're saying maybe she came from money the whole time?” 

You shrug. “It’s a possibility, at least.” 

Just then, the apartment phone rings. 

“Prentiss should answer,” Aaron says. “If it's a customer, she'll get more information out of them.” 

You hum, hedging your bets a little. ‘Unless she's calling in for her messages.” 

Too late. Derek’s already on the phone with Penelope. “Yeah, Baby Girl, we're getting a call to this line. Can you work some magic?” 

“I don't have a trap-and-trace in place yet. Give me a few. I'm gonna stay on the line.” 

Aaron gives her the go-ahead. “Prentiss, get ready to vamp.” 

The voicemail picks it up before Emily can so much as reach for the phone. 

“Hi, it's me. You know what to do.” Beep. 

“...Aaron.” 

You turn your head so fast you throw your neck out. You raise a hand to the crick and work it with your fingers. Aaron’s too busy frowning at the phone to notice. 

“I know you're up there. Pick up… Aaron Hotchner... Hello?” She drags out her words, almost flirting with everyone listening. 

With a sigh, Aaron pushes past the rest of you, silently counts to three, and picks up the phone while Emily clicks the speakerphone button. 

“I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, But I don't know yours. Can we start there?” 

Nice start. 

The game has begun. 

“I thought I could trust you, Aaron.”

What? 

The pinch between his brows deepens. “Who says you can't?” 

“I want to. I even looked you up online. Is that strange?”

Yes.  

“No.” Aaron wets his lips and begins to pace, the gears whirring in his head. “It's flattering to be noticed by a woman like you.” 

The woman continues as if he hasn’t said anything at all. “And I thought you were so... upstanding. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings. I found it posted on YouTube...” 

She has good taste. That’s an excellent presentation. 

“...And for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world.” 

“But I've disappointed you, haven't I?” He asks. “Just like all the other men in your life Who've walked out on their families, Who deserve to be punished.” 

“Did you walk out on your family?” 

His eyes flicker to you and you nod, nearly imperceptibly, reminding him he’s not alone. “No. My wife left me.” 

“Do you have kids?” 

“I have a son.” 

A sweet, thoughtful, perfect son. 

You smile a little, thinking of Jack, but it disappears when you remember that he’s home sick with Haley, probably having a miserable time. 

“How often do you see him?” She asks. 

 “I try to see him every week.” 

“Do you see him every week?” The question is mocking, smothered in dark amusement that could almost be called sarcasm save for its bitterness.  

“No,” Aaron’s eyes fall to the floor. “No, I don't get there as often as I want.” 

“I believe you.” Her response is softer, and you think she might make a decent profiler if she wasn’t on the other side. 

She is a profiler. 

In some ways, you suppose it’s true. She has to read and respond to everything her clients do, say, how they behave. It makes her good at her job and you good at yours. 

Same skillset, very different application. 

“But don't compare yourself to the men I see,” she continues. “You are nothing like them. You're just another whore.” 

Never in my life did I ever think I’d hear someone call Aaron Hotchner a whore. Unironically. 

That catches everyone’s attention, even Derek’s, still on hold with Penelope. 

“How am I a whore?” He asks. 

“You come when called. You do their bidding. In hotels you take the side elevator to avoid crowds, while the men who pay your salary walk across the ivory marble foyer into their cars.” 

Derek, behind you, presses. “Garcia.” 

You can hear her, faintly. “I'm in on the landline. Triangulating the cell. Give me like sixty seconds.” 

You gesture to Aaron when he looks. Keep going. 

He nods. “But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?” 

She sighs, sounding a little impatient for the first time. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, you want to show the world all these bad men and my investigation's just getting in your way.” 

“No, Aaron.” You almost startle, her tone escalating to a deeply frustrated shout. “You're not doing your job! You don't want to arrest me, you don't want me in custody because you're in their pocket.” 

She’s crying now, actively. “You just want me to disappear, just like they do.” 

“Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you.” 

Now that’s a tone you recognize - you’ve heard it when he talks to Haley. Most recently, when he couldn’t make it to some appointment or another. It’s one that’s disarming in the extreme, soft, but not condescending. 

“You've been betrayed so many times, You don't know who to trust, And that's why that first murder felt so good. But each one since has been less and less satisfying. You know that's going to continue.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “Am I right?” 

Just like Haley always does, the woman loses steam, sniffling once before answering. “Yeah.”

“Come to me and turn yourself in. I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear.” 

“If we met under different circumstances... I could believe that. I won't let you cover this up.” 

A gunshot rings through the line and you flinch, turning to Derek just as the line goes dead. You know Penelope will have something for you soon. 

She never fails, directing you to an address only moments after the elevator doors close in front of the team. 

+++

Once you found Megan Kane, it was easy enough to find her father. 

You could empathize with her mission well enough after meeting him. He’s shrouded by his lawyers - detached and seemingly indifferent to anything Aaron had to say. 

Aaron starts the car and you settle back into the seat. “So, the wall of lawyers strikes again.” 

A shadow of a smile ghosts around the creases at the corners of his eyes. “So it seems.” 

“What’s next?” 

“We tail him - home and office. He’ll meet with her soon enough.” 

Your brow furrows. “Not to protect her, right? It doesn’t seem like he cares that much.” 

Aaron turns, placing his hand on the back of your seat as he pulls out of the parking spot. You’re momentarily distracted as he turns back, spinning the wheel with the heel of his hand and gunning it out of the garage. 

Focus. 

“No,” he says. “Think about it.” 

It comes to you only seconds later. “To protect himself.” 

“There you go.” He turns to you, another little smile threatening. “You’re getting pretty good at this.” 

You roll your eyes. “I’ve been here over a year, Hotch. I’d fucking hope so.” 

You’re rewarded with a real smile, and it’s enough. 

+++

You take Derek’s six through the hotel, clearing the floors and reporting back to the rest of the team. SWAT is in full deployment, clearing the hard-to-reach areas like the stairways and rooftops, just in case. 

Aaron catches up to you, taking the four o’clock position off your left shoulder as Derek breaches the door. 

The gun and chilled champagne sit like ironic centerpieces on the entry table, but they hardly use any of your bandwidth as you clear the room, your vision narrowed by the sight of your service weapon. 

You hold a hand up when you catch the figure on the balcony. “Hotch.” 

He squints, and you move to raise your gun again and make the arrest, but he stops you with a hand over yours. “Easy.” 

There’s a question in your eyes. 

He, of course, answers it. “She knows it’s over.” 

Just then, she places an empty champagne glass on the table where you can see it. 

“I’ll call 911,” Derek says, stepping out and closing the door behind him. 

You turn to leave with Derek, but catch Aaron’s open hand, subtly signaling you from just under his hip.  

Stay here. It says. Stay close. 

So, you stay. You lean on the far wall of the hotel room, watching Aaron hold the hand of this dying, hurting woman. They’re speaking softly, and she smiles at him when she drops something into his hand. His eyes are soft, gentle, not even searching. Just warm. 

You feel for her. 

It’s the best way to go, you think. If there was ever a time you were dying before your time, you’d want Aaron there, holding your hand, telling you he was going to continue the work that killed you, that it was gonna be okay. 

“How could your wife have ever left someone like you?” You hear her ask. 

As much as you love Haley, the same question often floats through your head, and your heart aches for this woman who’s been able to see Aaron so clearly, even if she’s only seeing him for the first time now. 

“You’re the first man I’ve ever met who hasn’t let me down.” 

You creep forward, further into Aaron’s eyeline, and sit on the edge of the couch. She’s close to her last breath and you can feel it - so can Aaron. His eyes flicker to you for a moment before returning to her. 

Megan’s voice is full of tears when she asks, “Will you stay with me?” 

You have a feeling it isn’t the first time she’s asked the question and you find yourself hoping Emily will be particularly rough with the handcuffs when she apprehends Mr. Kane. Hopefully he didn’t make it past the checkpoint and is still on-site.  

“Yes.” Aaron is solemn, so sincere, so genuine it makes your heart ache. 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” 

You’re not even sure he realizes it, but he’s doing her a great kindness - one that many would not offer. 

It’s because he is good.

A good man. 

The tension drains out of her, and she grips tightly to Aaron’s hand as she fights through her final breaths. His hands are gentle, his attention only on her. He looks more like a father in this moment than any other time you’ve known him. She’s safe. She knows she can die in peace. 

Once more, you hope you have the opportunity to leave this plane of reality in such safety, when your time comes. 

When she’s gone, he places her hand in her lap and takes a moment to brush the hair off of her face, pressing the back of his fingers to her temple as if checking her for fever. 

After a minute or so, he turns to you, and you hope the pride and respect coursing through you is evident in your gaze. You pull an evidence bag out of your pocket, but he shakes his head, pocketing the SIM card. 

You rise as he gets closer, returning the evidence bag to your pocket. He’s clearly affected, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. 

Opening your arms to him, he wilts into you, allowing you to gather him into your shoulder. His arms are loose around your waist, his fingers wrapped around his opposite wrist as an anchor. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability and you’d hate to make him feel anything less than safe. 

You still have a minute or so before they all come stomping through the door to collect Megan’s body. 

“I’m sorry, Hotch.” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know why this one hurts.”

Your arms tighten around him. “It’s okay. I feel it, too.” 

A deep, shaky breath rolls through him. 

“She’s right, you know.” You almost regret your words, afraid you’re giving yourself away. 

“What?”

“You didn’t let her down. You’re a good man.” 

His jaw tightens, and you can feel it against your neck where his head falls into your shoulder. 

“Oh, stop. You’ve never let me down.” Your hand reaches up, stroking the back of his head, carding your fingers through the hair. “She died knowing you kept your promise.” 

+++

You look up to Aaron’s office when news of the leak breaks, finding his silhouette haunting the window, staring at the television. 

A ghost of a smile crosses his face, and he turns back to his desk, settling back down to work. 

+++

tagging:  @aaronhotchnerr @ambicaos @angelsbabey @arganfics @averyhotchner @bwbatta @capricorngf @cevanswhre @crazyshannonigans @criminalsmarts @deagibs @forgottenword @genevievedarcygrangerwriting @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @hurricanejjareau @joanofarkansass @kelstark @kerrswriting @little-blue-fishie @lotties-journey-abroad @mandylove1000 @missdowntonabbey @mrs-dr-reid @pan-pride-12 @popped-weasels @quillvine @qvid-pro-qvo @reidingmelodies @reids-mismatchedsocks @roses-and-grasses @shesbiochem4 @ssahotchnerr @ssaic-jareau @ssareidbby @starsandasteroids @stxrrywildflower @sunflowersandotherthings @sunshine-em @teamhappyme @this-broken-band-girl @ughitsbaby @unicorn-bitch @venusbarnes @violet-amxthyst @word-scribbless @writefasttalkevenfaster @zizzlekwum @iconicc @avatarkorraswife @mooneylupinblack @ssworldofsw @nuvoleincielo @kaemarie23 @violentvulgarvolatile @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @rousethemouse @baumarvel @reidtomestyles @dreamsonthewall @jhiddles03 @willlemonheadsupremacy @infinity1321 @messyhairday-me

[ladyhindsight]

When it’s all over, and you finally begin to see light at the end of the tunnel, the epilogue tries to pull some relationship bullshit even when there is no longer any incest plot to stop it.

This book was supposed to be the end and this part here is the only door open for any continuation. 

There’s not talk about whether the others know that Jace died and Raziel brought him back to life on Clary’s wish or whether they don’t know that Jace died and merely believe that Raziel merely healed his founds from the fight with Sebastian. The way this is written gives room to refine the facts to suit the events in the subsequent installments.

Funnily enough, Clare has also forgotten than Jace had a parabatai and it would had some effect on it, but the bond and whether Jace’s death had any effect on it even momentarily remains unmentioned.

→ “The towers of Alicante glimmered in the distance, their former glory restored.”

Don’t you mean AdOpTiVe FaThEr, because in the final chapter the fact that Jace was Valentine’s adoptive son was wedged in there for no seeable reason. Father is a father.

No contradictions here. Just facts.

I think 10-year-old is more a child than just “barely”?

For the hundredth time, Hodge should’ve been able to tell the difference between Jace and Sebastian. It makes absolutely no sense that he didn’t. Kids have faces, you know!

HE. SHOULD. HAVE. BEEN. ABLE. TO. TELL.

Your dumb plot is dumb. Later Clare tries to tell how much Jace resembles Stephen, his birth father, except around the eyes that are shaped like Céline’s. HOW COULD HE NOT KNOW? HODGE KNOWS WHAT BOTH OF THEIR PARENTS LOOK LIKE. KIDS HAVE FACES.

Probably everyone knows. “x knew” is another writing trick that Clare sows around and has for the whole book. Also emphasizing the fact that they are burning her father is unnecessary when Clary had no feelings about Valentine and his fatherhood anyway. Luke is her dad.

→ “They were burning Valentine today in the necropolis just outside the gates.”

I wouldn’t be surprised if Aline didn’t like Clary because there is like five girls in this book and none of them like each other. At least at first

More conversational and less like trying to establish some character would be: “I think she just says whatever comes to her mind.”

Maybe Aline is right about Jace being bored now with Clary because their relationship isn’t “forbidden” anymore and Clary thinks that, yeah, maybe.

AS. IF. How can you go through all this and then think that no, Jace no longer likes me because I am not forbidden to have relationship with. How little does Clary know Jace? Trying to squeeze out the final drops of will-they-won’t-they makes your characters look like idiots.

Case in point. Now Isabelle is dumb also.

There were two absolutely beautiful scenes in this book. The first one was when Clary showed herself to everyone as someone each person loved most, and all Jocelyn saw was Clary. The second on is this.

And it’s so unearned. They just fought and cried about Jace’s feelings and now they are friends?

Yes, that must be it. Total 180, just poof, out of nowhere. Does Jace know Clary at all?

Constantly staring at Jace because his backstory is the weirdest and most convoluted? Or that he’s the last Herondale (that they know of) alive? Or does this just sound a bit too egoistic.

And now Jace decides to question Valentine’s stories. The guy is dead! Maybe you should’ve done that a bit earlier about bigger things than some birthmark. And especially since when right after this Amatis tells him what it is, it’s irrelevant whether Jace believes Valentine or not.

No comma, what is wrong with you?

It wouldn’t be fair to Luke. The Luke who has pined after Jocelyn for 20 years? That Luke? And I honestly forgot what I was meaning to say about that clapping of hands and can’t remember. At this point, I don’t think I care anymore either.

Now this is character development. Clary finally asks permission to wear Amatis’s clothes. 👏👏👏👏👏

Why is a surprise at all? Sebastian wasn’t the Penhallows’ cousin so why would Lightwoods hold grudge anymore? Penhallows were betrayed as much as they were, though they did not lose a child.

Any black-haired character: Their hair was like spilled ink. Their hair was shockingly black.

Not having to hold secrets and hide your true self from everyone around you is freeing, it's a relief. Of course it is, but the way the narrative has treated Alec is that everyone else knows better than him about Alec’s own business and what he should do. 

Alec should do this, feel this, feel that, and it’s not Alec ridding himself of the weight on his shoulders. It would most likely be more rewarding if the narrative didn’t actively shame Alec for being in the closet and confused about his feelings.

Given Clary’s track record with other girls, that “if so, it was a good choice” doesn’t save this from sounding somewhat snide still. Also, let girls wear T-shirt they want to wear and don’t make it about some boy.

It went at least ten minutes. No way all that happened after Sebastian releasing the demons and Valentine dying took so little time. Also, if this was the end of a trilogy and the series weren’t to continue after this, why would you belittle such a battle like this? There was such a preparation for it and everything and then the battle was a really short one.

Say one more time it was ten minutes. I dare you.

So now they are all friendly and crushing on Simon together? Nothing in Maia and Isabelle’s relationship makes sense and will not make sense in the future.

Magnus was told to be talking with Tessa, so specifying that the girl is indeed her is unnecessary. There was no other girl mentioned in between.

→ “Magnus broke away and came toward them, and the girl slipped into the shadow of the trees and was gone.”

I didn’t sit and read through the drivel about how Jace loved Clary the second he saw her, how he came awake in an instant, and how everything he did was for Clary back when neither even thought they were siblings to be served this one and moldy final step before they finally get together.

FINALLY. 

And Clary acts like this is a fucking surprise. I think it’s safe to say that aside from Valentine, the sole reason for anything plot related Jace has been Clary because it’s hasn’t been Alec or Isabelle or Max. Not Robert or Maryse, and definitely not Simon. Clary has been Jace’s motivation. “In part” is just putting it mildly.

You think. It’s great that this is addressed here but it was never part of Alec and Jace’s relationship or interaction or anything.

I am officially throwing up. Clary, you are special, I get it, even if it has to be on the expense of other important relationships. How can you be parabatai to someone and not give yourself to them completely (though not romantically, of course)? How’s that supposed to work? Or am I confusing this with Jaeger pilots.

No comma, same subject. 

→ “Jace made an inelegant noise; he was trying not to laugh and only semi-succeeded.”

You all over there are acting like you don’t even know each other. And Clary still keeps seeing things in surprise for the umpteenth time. And I am so sick of it.

I am so sick of “—and”, it’s used so many times that it’s coming out of my ears and haunting my nightmares. And oh my god, Jocelyn hasn’t dressed up but still Luke totally thinks she is absolutely perfect? What?? As if relationships are supposed to work like this???

I am so sick of this nice little ending like this is some satisfactory and fulfilling end to all crap that happened. This book sucks, fuck it and fuck all.

[warriors-rewritten-chaos]

Rewrite- Short Story 1

I wanted to write something to go along with my Warriors Rewrite. So of course I wrote a short story from the point of view of total background characters with almost no plot relevance. Note here that I have changed Runningnose’s name to Cloudypelt and that Brightflower believes that Yellowfang is the one who killed her kits because of Brokenstar’s lies. Please bear with my awful writing and overuse of commas.

Of Grief and Oak Trees

The Nursery feels empty. It isn’t really, of course, there are other queens and their kits all around, making noise and rushing about. It’s just Brightflower herself that is empty. Brightflower had been a good Warrior, in her time. She’d thought that she had been a good mother as well. She had wanted one more litter before her retirement to the Elders’ Den. Brokenstar had said ShadowClan had needed more kits anyway, and Brightflower was nothing but loyal to her Clan. But her sweet kits had been heartlessly slaughtered, and by her own daughter, the lead Medicine Cat, at that! How could Yellowfang have done this to her?! Hadn’t Brightflower taught her kindness, compassion, love?! Hadn’t she been a good mother, a good Warrior, a good cat?!

Since Mintkit and Marigoldkit’s deaths, her clanmates have given her a wide berth. She let them. She feels drained of any energy, any joy, that she once had. She can barely even bring herself to get up or eat. Brightflower knows she’s become nothing but a burden now. A part of her wishes that she would die so she could see her babies again. She wouldn’t be such a burden on her Clan that way. But she knows that letting herself die like that wouldn’t be fair to her mate or to her remaining kits. Nutwhisker, Rowanberry, and Brackenfoot still need her, still want her, as empty and hollow and utterly broken as she is, and so she owes it to them to try. She has to try to keep living, at least for them, if not herself. It’s been hard. It will keep being hard.

Brightflower is pulled out of her thoughts by a quiet sniffle from the entrance of the Nursery. In walks the very familiar sight of what is now ShadowClan’s sole Medicine Cat. His name is Cloudypelt, though around half the Clan calls him “Runningnose” for obvious reasons, poor thing. He had attempted to defend his mentor to the end during her trial, even though she was a murderer. Brightflower both admires his dedication to her daughter and despises him for it. However, Cloudypelt hasn’t come alone. Brokenstar follows him into the Nursery- that would explain the Medicine Cat’s nervous expression- and he’s holding something in his mouth.

At first Brightflower thinks it's a mouse, or a small rabbit. But then the tiny fluffy lump mewls, and she knows what it is. It’s the most filthy, emaciated kit she’s ever seen- not that she’s seen many unhealthy ones, but a mother knows these things. Brokenstar practically throws the kit at her, looking almost disgusted by them. “You still have milk from your litter, you can feed this one”, he says. Brightflower stares at him, shell-shocked. “Where did you find them?” she asks slowly. “They don’t look right”. “S-some Warriors found a Lone-Loner’s nest while on patrol” Cloudypelt replies. Brokenstar butts in: “The parents and its other siblings were dead. Murdered. Probably by Yellowfang, the traitorous fox-heart.” Cloudypelt bristles slightly at the remark about his former mentor but says nothing. “This one was the only one alive. Since you don’t have kits anymore, I want you to feed it.”

“I just lost my kits!” Brightflower exclaims in protest, despite having already subconsciously pulled the kit in closer so they can nurse from her belly. “I don’t think I should be responsible for-” Brokenstar cuts her off. “ShadowClan needs more Warriors. Since you can no longer provide them yourself, you can raise one. You don’t have to love it, just try to keep it alive long enough for it to become an apprentice. Then you don’t have to worry about it again. That’s what my foster mother did with me.”

Brokenstar’s concerning words notwithstanding, this kit does need someone to care for them. Brightflower’s heart aches for them- alone in the world, without a family, without a mother... “Fine”, she replies, “I’ll take them”. “Good”, Brokenstar says, and then leaves with only a flick of his tail. Cloudypelt stands there awkwardly, him and Brightflower staring at each other for entirely too long. “Um”, he says, sniffling and fidgeting his tail between his front paws. “H-he’s a tom-kit, a-and Applepaw called him Oakkit. I-I, uh, think that it’s a good name for him.” With that, he quickly trots out of the nursery, leaving Brightflower and Oakkit alone with each other.

Brightflower grooms him- she has to, the poor thing is caked in dried mud and smells awful. As she does, she ponders her newfound circumstances. Maybe this is her redemption, a sign from StarClan that she can do one more useful thing for her Clan, for a kit in need. One last chance to be a good mother. “It’s okay” she whispers softly as Oakkit snuggles into her side, curling up around him protectively. “Mommy’s here. Mommy’s got you.” And just then, for a moment, as they both slip off to sleep, she sees two other sleeping kits- one tom, one molly- nestled up alongside him.

[morning-softness]

We've talked about some of questions posed by the Fanfic Writers asks before, so here's a few we haven't talked about, if you like: 11, 21, and/or 90~

Fanfic Writers Ask Game

Thanks for sending these! It was fun.

11. What’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

Hmm, something neat I’ve learned…

Did you know that, while both Coca-Cola and Pepsi are roughly equally popular in the USA (where they originate), most other countries only have one brand as their primary popular cola drink (which probably sounds obvious, but honestly wasn’t something I’d thought much about)? And that Coca-Cola is the popular brand in far more countries internationally than Pepsi (which I definitely didn’t know)?

I found this out while writing Love or Whatever You Call It, because I had to change the joke in Chapter 7 after the person Brit-picking the story mentioned they didn’t really drink Pepsi in the UK, and I started looking into it more. (The original joke is that someone asks if the drink is Coca-Cola or Pepsi and the other person says “If you can’t tell the difference, what difference does it make?”. Which I feel like might be a US cultural reference to the Cola Wars, particularly the fact that one of Pepsi’s promotional stunts was The Pepsi Challenge—having people do a blind taste-test of two cola drinks and then try to pick which one is Coca-Cola and which is Pepsi.)

I actually do a fair amount of research. For my TMA fanfic, since I’m not British, I’ve had to do a lot of research into fairly basic stuff about living in the London area, or the UK in general. I remember looking up hiking trails (as well as a lot of other information about hiking) for All That We Think We Know, and spending a couple hours comparing demographic information and transit lines trying to decide which area of London Melanie should live in for Incendiary Tactics.

21. Pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write.

In practical terms, I feel like my writing process is so idiosyncratic that it would probably frustrate anyone trying to work with me. I can’t imagine that getting a bunch of random scenes out of order is what anyone would want from me as their coauthor, especially if I was working with someone who had a more structured writing style. And if I managed to find someone with a similar writing process, I think we’d have a lot of fun swapping headcanons and throwing ideas out there but it might quickly become chaos.

That said, I do have an idea for a 5+1 structure precanon Jon/Tim dating fic, swapping perspectives between Jon and Tim. Jon and Tim both want something more than friendship but are scared to seriously pursue it, because they don’t want to mess up the relationship they already have. They keep trying to test the waters, asking each other out using vague language that ends up misinterpreted as just another fun time together as friends (the 5), until finally Tim gets the courage to ask Jon directly if he wants to date him and Jon agrees, and they have their ‘real’ first date (the +1). In a perfect world, I would write this together with Rye @voiceless-terror because Rye is great at writing Jon/Tim fic, and does an excellent characterization of Tim in particular.

90. Do you notice your own voice in your writing style?

Oh, definitely! For better or worse, I think not just the style but the mood of my writing tends to be fairly similar across pieces, and fairly indicative of the way I think in general. A lot of sensory (especially visual and tactile) detail, a lot of character introspection, long sentences with lots of commas or dashes, present tense, and generally close perspective (I used to write primarily in first person POV, and while I write in third person for fanfic, my work doesn’t really convey a sense of the author as an observer or narrator separate from the characters).

I’ve mentioned this before but I experience emotions pretty strongly, if not always clearly (having more of something unidentifiable does not necessarily make it easier to identify), so I tend to favor work that deals with strong emotion and—all my research aside—I generally prioritize a sense of emotional satisfaction over a fully logical plot.

My sibling has complained that I only like to write sad stories, and I’d personally characterize my vibe as

which explains why I’ve found a niche as a hurt/comfort writer in fanfic.

[areyouseriouspadfoot]

park meeting, part 1. (muggle au)

A/N: well, I figured I could start with one of my first drabbles. Apparently I was not familiar with the use of stops and commas.

One of the things Marlene loved the most about having a dog was the possibility of lying down on the park almost every single day. While Hazel, her bernese mountain dog, ran around chasing squirrels, she would sit under a tree, spread a blanket over the grass and read. Occasionally the dog would come with some random branch and she would throw it so he could fetch it and, after a while, Hazel would lay down next to her, demand some belly rubs, and then they would stay like that for a fair amount of time.

It was a cloudy day and, as usual, she and Hazel were on the park. There was cool breeze blowing softly making the tree leafs fly around, painting a beautiful scenery before her eyes. After a long run, Hazel was curled up next to her while she finished her current book. Marlene bundled up a bit and passed to the next page; sighing softly. Her eyes arrived to the last paragraph when a high pitched cry broke her concentration.

A little boy, no older than three years old, was crying and holding to his stuffed animal as if his life depended on it. Marlene frowned worriedly, he seemed to be lost. She stood up immediately, put her book away and walked towards him with Hazel trailing behind her.

The toddler was crying hysterically when Marlene kneeled in front of him. “Hey, sweetie, where are your parents?” she asked softly as she stroke his black and messy hair. The kid’s crying ceased a bit and he practically threw himself to her, catching her by suprise.

Marlene sighed and lifted him up. “Shh… it’s okay, it’s okay, don’t cry, honey” she murmured softly. “Why don’t we go and find them, okay?” she muttered and ran her thumb over his cheek. “That’s a pretty animal, does he have a name?” she asked pointing at the stuffed deer he had on his tiny little hands.

The kid nodded. “Pwongs”, he sniffed, resting his head on Marlene’s shoulder.

“Prongs, huh? That’s a very cool name… she’s my dog, Hazel; do you like dogs?” Marlene asked tenderly as she walked through the park scanning every human being, trying to detect a worried parent.

“Hazel!” the kid giggled a bit and the dog’s tail waged happily.

“Do you want to pet her?” Marlene smiled, relieved that he stopped crying. “She’s very friendly” she added and put him down, kneeling next to him.

Hazel approached to them and, after smelling the kid, started licking him playfully. The boy giggled happily and hugged the dog by the neck, running his little fingers through her fur. Marlene smiled widely and shot a quick glance around, trying to see if she could find the parents; however, there were no signs of them. Her blue eyes focused on the kid again and she couldn’t help to smile at the adorable scene.

“I swear mate, it was just one bloody second and then he was… FOUND HIM, there he is… thank God, I’ll call you later Moony… bloody hell Harry, there you are! You gave me such a fright, mate!” a handsome man lifted the kid up and pressed his lips against the boy’s forehead.

“Pafoot!” Harry giggled and then pointed to the bernese mountain dog “Hazel!” he said happily whilst moving impatintly on the man’s arms trying to reach the dog.

Marlene stared at the scene speechless, the man was not much older than her and he was ridiculously good looking; definitely not the type of guy she would’ve expect to have a child. He had black hair: not very short but not very long either, just the perfect length to play with it; grey eyes that now were shining at the sight of his son and a couple of tattoos over his arms that suited him just perfectly. If that wasn’t enough, he was also wearing a leather jacket and everyone knew how much Marlene appreciated a leather jacket.

He placed Harry next to the dog and saw how he started playing with her again. “Thank you, I was so…” his voice trailed when his eyes caught sight of her, and sweet God she was gorgeous. “… worried”

“No need for that, I’m glad I could help”, she shrugged, smiling. Marlene’s eyes traveled to the kid and her dog and lingered there for a moment. “They seem to like each other” she commented casually.

His heart skipped a few beats when she smiled at him. “No, I do need to thank you… I’m Sirius, by the way” he introduced himself after clearing out his throat.

Marlene chuckled softly, shaking her head slowly. “Nice to meet you, I’m Marlene… you have a nice kid, Sirius” she said honestly as her eyes traveled once more to Harry and Hazel and smiled at the pair.

Sirius chuckled a bit and shook his head. “He’s not my son, he’s my godson” he corrected her with his tone of voice changing slightly to a sadder one. “His parents died a year ago and now I’m taking care of him”, he explained.

“Oh, I’m really sorry to hear that” she said truthfully, frowning a bit. Marlene briefly looked at the little boy who seemed so happy. “It’s a good thing he has someone who take care of him, though” she then added.

Harry was playing and giggling happily with Hazel, pulling her ears and pressing Prongs to the dog’s face “Hazel, Hazel!” he beamed enthusiastically as he clapped his tiny hands. The dog licked Harry’s face playfully and then ran in circle, making both Sirius and Marlene laugh at the scene.

“Alright mate, I think we should go now and leave poor Hazel to rest” Sirius chuckled and lifted Harry. The kid whined and struggled on his godfather’s arms so he could reach the dog again “Hazel! Hazel!”

“Come on, Prognsie, let’s go to see uncle Remus… we don’t want to bother this lovely lady and her dog anymore” Sirius insisted trying to calm him. “I want Hazel!” Harry whined pouting and folding his tiny arms over his chest. The young man let out a tired sigh but didn’t put him down; instead he gave an apologetic look to Marlene.

“You know, Hazel and I come here every day… why don’t you go with Sirius now and we’ll meet again tomorrow?” Marlene suggested smiling and messing with his already messy hair.

“I like the sound of that” Sirius smirked and then looked at his godson who nodded not very convinced. “At what time do you usually come?” he asked trying to sound casual as he placed Harry over his shoulders.

“Um… around four, I guess” she shrugged managing to hide her excitement and running her fingers through her blonde wavy hair.

“It’s a play date then” he winked and then added, “say good bye, mate”. Harry waved at Marlene first and then to Hazel. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked hopefully.

“Bye Harry” she smiled at the toddler and then blushed slightly. “Yeah, I’ll be here” she nodded her head. Of course she was going to be there, she was not going to miss a date with a handsome man.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow then” he nodded with a smirk and started walking away. After a while he turned around and saw that she was still there. “OI, MARLENE” he shouted and waited for her to turn around. “THANK YOU” he added and kept on walking with the image of her wide grin in his mind.

Harry kept on pulling his hair and hitting his head with Prongs. “You know Prongsie, you should make a special drawing for her” he muttered distractedly as he walked through the park. Sirius’ eyes wandered through the area: there were people running, walking, skating and couples kissing. “Remember when I said that I didn’t date?” he asked distractedly. “Well, I guess there’s always an exception to the rule” he mused.