#maybe I’ll make a master list post with all the current fics I plan on writing
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darkhazard19 · 8 months ago
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So my brain came up with a primis armyhorse fic but gave me two versions of the same idea 😅 I didn’t know which one was better so I’m here to get your opinion on which version I should write.
I feel like version 1 gives an insight into how Leta and Dempsey’s relationship developed and how they bonded but version 2 shows the moment the two know they want to be together. Maybe this could be a 2 parter kinda fic but that’s why I’m here to get opinions and feedback lol
Prior to Origins and a couple months into when Leta joined the marines. During the aftermath of a battle while trying to assess everyone’s injuries, Leta gets shot and injured by a straggler. While getting her wounds treated, Leta is slightly delirious and lightheaded from blood loss and just mutters about how she’s sorry for not being useful. Tank comforts her and later on the two share a heartfelt moment while Leta is healing. (Version 1)
Prior to Origins and right after Sterling’s death, Leta makes it back to where they set up base with the letters she nearly died for, letters that Sterling died protecting her for. Moments after delivering the letters she passes out from exhaustion and a wound she had to stitch up rather quickly and messily. After being treated and waking up, she and Dempsey share a heartfelt moment and make the decision to cement their relationship and make it official. (Version 2)
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ssplague · 2 years ago
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SSplague Presents
Super Psycho Love
Smut & Song fic spectacular
Could you give less of a fuck about Valentines day? Is the person currently laying beside you in bed making you feel nothing but regret? or maybe you and your significant other are nothing more than glorified roommates these days? Or has a face that used to bring you so much joy to see now become replaced by outright disgust and or hatred?
I feel you, and that’s why I’m hosting my first ever event; Through out February I’ll be queuing up nothing but good vibes, and sexy stories that will carry you through the month. As well as adding premium fuel to your imagination, so the facts that these non-2D men ain’t shit and love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, will hurt a little less.
Originally I planned on doing this solo but if anyone else is interested I want to include them.
Rules:
SSPSL❤️‍🔥 <—-event hashtag
❣️ Musically inspired 💔 The themes for this event are as follows: Smut of all kinds (Sky’s the limit) Toxic relationships, Yandere, Cheating, a/b/o, AU, fantasy NSFW is not an absolute requirement (but is highly encouraged 😉) ❤️‍🩹 A playlist isn’t required but It’s optional, if you want to include a link to the song on your post do it, if not it’s whatever. ❤️‍🔥 Each story doesn’t have to be exactly like the song it’s inspired by, hell it can just be a single verse you use and nothing else! 💔 If you want, include individual “Album art” for each story or just one collage for everything and a “Track list” (Story titles) ❤️‍🩹If you just want to submit art, or Amv’s and not write anything that’s fine too, tag me and I’ll share it! ❤️‍🩹 This event lasts the ENTIRE month of February, and since I started it late the end date is MARCH 6th ❤️‍🔥 Tag me in your stories or artwork and I will put a link to it on the event’s master list. 💔 Any & All Fandoms are allowed! ❤️‍🩹 Submissions can be any length
If enough people are down we’ll make a discord or some shit, but I doubt it!
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patromlogil · 2 years ago
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Body Mind and Soul - Update 3
Tag List: @mightnightmooon @strawb3rry-tea @mushroomcupp @craftingkitty13 @bagels-of-chaos @imma-potatoo @dimension-hopper @sanderdarksides @gabseliblack @shitposts-and-shit @thecrowslullaby @hummingbirdspark @nadiestar
Soulmate!AU - You glow when you touch the skin of your soulmate for the first time. You stop glowing after your first kiss.
Summary - Logan glows when he accidentally touches a bartender. The problem is he’s married, and doesn’t subscribe to this whole soulmate nonsense.
>>Master List<<
Like/reblog/reply to >>This Post&lt;< to be added to the Tag List
A/N - I am so so sorry it's taken near enough to 12 months for this update that we might as well say it's been a year. There's been many things but those aren't important right now, what's important is - it's finally here! And I have plans for this fic. I intend not to take as long with the following chapters but still thank you for your patience, and hope you haven't given up on me.
It took longer than I would have thought to find this bartender. Certainly, there are enough variables surrounding the incident to make it last longer than a day or two; Remy’s level of intoxication, his preference to pay in cash, his complete refusal to ever take a receipt. It’s difficult enough to find where we even were that night, then he would need to figure out which figurative needle in the haystack of bartenders was the one we’re looking for. That’s assuming he even still worked there.
For two weeks I’ve effectively been under house arrest, forbidden from even passing by windows, waiting for my husband to return home. I can’t even remember when I last had so much time to myself; Remy’s work hardly comes with days off.
Typically our mornings start with a meeting with Remy’s social media manager and my personal assistant. A good few hours spent talking about every plan they have for the next six months, what’s working, what isn’t, whether someone beat him to it, and an average of three meltdowns. Then there’s a hasty lunch, usually ordered in, before Remy rushes off to create his content, and my assistant will usually have some sort of itinerary for me with my own tiresome social obligations.
Then in the evening there’ll be some gala, or clubbing, we’ve even been to a film premiere or two. Usually it involves alcohol and coming home with Remy very drunk, and I’ll have a migraine.
He insists it’s all essential towards growing the brand. We have to keep up the idea that we were meant to be together. It boosts his following and makes us more appealing to sponsors and advertisers. As much as I dislike this nonsense, it’s what’s paying for our house and lifestyle so I endure.
This has been my schedule for so long, I’ve barely known what to do with myself besides struggle with the anxiety that comes from not being productive. There’s only so much reality television I can handle before it starts to make me physically ill.
My relief now Remy’s finally found him is ineffable.
He’s currently sat at our kitchen table opposite Remy who summoned him to our house for negotiations which my husband insists on doing himself.
I’ve always favoured the rote learning method for myself; the repetition helps to cement things within my memory. I am not a visual learner, so I’m not surprised that I barely recall what the bartender looked like in the few seconds I’d seen him before having a jacket thrown over my head, so I’m grateful for the chance to stand back and observe my ‘soulmate’
Average build, if I was to guess, maybe an inch or two shorter than myself. He’s wearing a yellow t-shirt with jeans, very casual but he sits with his hands folded and his lips cocked to one side as though he’s laughing at some secret joke. Short brown hair is brushed to one side, half hiding his left eye while darker patches of skin cover the left side of his face. His eyes are quite interesting, the right is a brown, while the left is a sharp blue.
And of course, he’s glowing.
Remy suddenly stands, shouting at the bartender and pointing to the door.
“Get the hell out of my house!”
Oh dear. I really should have been paying attention.
To his credit the bartender doesn’t even flinch, barely hiding an eyeroll before he speaks.
“It’s a reasonable request.”
“It’s a piss-take!”
“I deserve to get to know what I’m giving up”
Okay, this has gone far enough. I place a hand on my husband’s shoulder as he takes a breath to shout something back. Most likely something vulgar that I really could do without hearing.
“Let me handle this.” I insist.
He goes to argue but with a glance at our guest he shrugs my hand off and swears under his breath as he moves aside. Remy doesn’t take people disagreeing with him very well.
I pull out the chair and sit down on it, taking a good look at this man.
Loathsome as I am to say it, I can feel him. Ever since he entered our house, the thrumming buzz beneath my skin has become worse, as though it’s responding to his mere presence. I don’t like it. It’s uncomfortable like the silent buzz of a fluorescent bulb and I barely remember how it felt to not feel like this. I want it gone.
“What exactly do you want?”
There’s a look of intrigue in his eyes as he looks between Remy and I.
“Dates. With you,” he turns towards Remy, “Unchaperoned.”
I nod. “Reasonable.”
“What! Logan-!” Remy blurts but I hold up my hand to silence him.
“How many?”
Again the bartender looks past me to my husband with a slight smirk. “Fifteen.”
“You can suck my ass!” Remy practically tries to launch himself forward but luckily I hold an arm out to stop him.
“Remy, shut up or get out.”
He pulls back but doesn’t leave. The bartender is smirking again. Fifteen isn’t a serious request, clearly. He’s obviously trying to rile Remy up which I would be mad about if Remy wasn’t constantly chasing drama.
“Five.”
For the first time since he arrived, the bartender’s eyes land on me and embarrassingly I feel my breath pause for the briefest moment. I barely blink as he looks me up and down, breathing through his nose as he tilts his head to the side.
“Ten.”
“Six.”
“Seven. Every other day for two weeks.”
Despite his casual outfit, the jeans are rough and worn and there’s a hole in the bottom left corner of his shirt, he holds himself like an academic lecturer. He sits tall in his seat and has an air of knowing the people he’s talking to have little to no interest in what he has to say.
It’s really not what I expected.
“You understand we can’t do anything publicly.”
“Discretion is my middle name.” While I have met many people with ridiculous names at Remy’s side, I genuinely hope it’s not literal. “We could even have a first date now.” His glances over to Remy, “This is a wonderful house, and I’d love a tour.”
A wind-up merchant. Wonderful.
“Fuck you!” Remy snaps, crossing the kitchen and slamming his hands on the table again. “You don’t deserve to-!”
My hand on his shoulder stops him and he turns to me.
This man is crass in his delight at my husband’s discomfort and I’m hardly thrilled at the thought of showing him around our house, but he has us over a figurative barrel here. He has what we want, and if he wishes to start on the first part of our deal so quickly then it’s in our best interest to act swiftly.
“You did want to go to the gym.” I say pointedly.
Remy sputters, gapes, turning between myself and the bartender as he tries to think of a reason as to why this is an awful idea but when nothing comes to mind he huffs, heads for the door, stopping in the doorway.
“I want him gone before I get back.”
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Calculated Risk (Anakin x Reader)
Author’s Note: Here’s the Anakin fic I said was coming out today! Don’t worry, this one is all fluff after the last angst one I posted haha. I hope you guys enjoy! And as always, my tag list/ask box/requests are always open! Thanks so much!
Requested?: Yes, by @cluelessgurl - “I’d love to see a jedi reader coming to Anakin’s rescue during a battle, even though he felt like he didn’t need it but being grateful anyway, just the reader being badass basically lmao. That doesn’t mean the reader doesn’t get a scolding from Anakin after the mission though with some fluff of course.”
Summary: You swoop into battle to help your crush, Anakin, who has vehemently denied the need for any back-up on his mission. 
Calculated Risk
Anakin Skywalker x Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: None, I don’t think!
“Ready to report a status update.” Anakin’s voice crackles to life on a hologram behind you. Out of curiosity, you turn to see Obi-Wan talking to Anakin.
“Yes?” Obi-Wan prompts, raising an eyebrow. You drift over to Obi-Wan’s side, ignoring the glance he gives you as you train your eyes on Anakin. Yes, you have a crush on Anakin. But it’s not like he actually likes you back, so it’s no big deal.
“A small droid army has intercepted us and we are working our way through,” Anakin says, and you hear blaster shots firing all around him. 
“Do you need...help?” Obi-Wan asks, hearing a few grunts from clones who are getting shot.
“Oh, no, we’re fine. I’ve got this mission completely under control, don’t even worry about it.” Anakin chuckles, refusing help a little too much. You and Obi-Wan give each other a knowing glance.
“Anakin, we can easily send a squad-”
“Obi-Wan, I assure you, I can handle this myself. Ahsoka’s here, too, and she would say the same thing. Right, Ahsoka?” Anakin calls out.
“Master, we need your help over here! There’s too many of them!” Ahsoka’s voice comes ‘off-screen’ from the hologram.
“See? We’re doing just fine on our own. Gotta go!” Anakin quickly ends the transmission.
Obi-Wan turns to you, clearly still not convinced by Anakin’s antics. 
“It’s obvious that he needs a little help, but he refuses to call in more troops. If I send in reinforcements behind his back, he won’t be happy about it.” Obi-Wan grumbles.
“When has Anakin being grumpy ever held you back?” You laugh.
“Well-”
“What if I could offer a compromise?” You interject again, actually happier with your plan than what Obi-Wan wants to do.
“And what do you suggest we do instead?” He lifts an eyebrow at you and folds his arms. You have a habit of getting into trouble just like Anakin, so he probably doesn’t trust your ideas too often.
“Send me.” You grin triumphantly at him.
“Send...you?” He repeats back slowly, turning the idea over in his mind. It’s not a no, so you continue to explain yourself.
“I’m one of the best Jedi Knights, even you can’t deny that. I can be reinforcements. But I’m still not a squad being dispatched to him so he can’t be mad because you didn’t technically ‘send reinforcements.’” You smirk, knowing you’ve outwitted Anakin. Obi-Wan sighs, but you see the small smile he’s trying to hide.
“You have a fair point...and Anakin is always happy to see you, so he won’t be upset that you’ve been sent.” Obi-Wan thinks out loud.
“What?” 
“What?” 
“I’m...gonna go now.” You murmur, still not sure if you heard him correctly.
“Okay, stay safe. And...keep Anakin out of trouble, please.” He sighs. You grin wickedly at him.
“You’re telling me that?” You ask.
“That’s true, you egg on his antics... Still, you know the difference between reckless stupidity and calculated risks that need to be taken.” He groans, motioning for you to leave already.
“Sure, Obi-Wan. I’ll see you once I save Anakin and complete the mission!” You laugh, running to the hangar. You climb into your speeder and take off from the cruiser, headed toward Anakin.
~+~
Upon your arrival on the planet, an imperial bomber greets you. You try to maneuver your ship around the blast, but unfortunately, it takes out one of your wings and your speeder starts to go down. 
As the ship plummets to the ground, you (as gracefully as possible) flip out of the top of it and land on a nearby rock, not too far from the battle. You watch as your ship makes contact with the ground and blows up. Sigh, you suppose you’ll have to take a ship back with the others.
You slide down the rock you’re currently on and join in the battle, taking down droids as you fight your way to Anakin and his crew. 
You spot Anakin fighting near Ahsoka, getting pushed back by the sheer amount of droids trying to overwhelm them. That’s the thing about the empire. They may not have good fighters, but they had a lot of them.
“Anakin!” You call, flinging your lightsaber like a boomerang through the sea of droids. You call it back to your hand with the force and find that you have successfully cleared a path to Anakin. You decide to take your chance while you have it and run to him.
“(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” Anakin grunts, still fighting off droids. You deflect a blaster shot that was aimed at him while he’s preoccupied.
“Helping you, duh.” You make a face, jumping into battle next to him. The two of you work flawlessly together, making quick work of the droids.
“I said I didn’t need reinforcements.” He sighs.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not reinforcements. I just came here to see you, of course.” You wink at him, taking down another entire line of droids. Anakin watches in almost-awe as you fight off the droids, much more efficient than the rest of his crew, and maybe even him. He’d never admit that, though.
He watches you do a backflip over a droid, slicing it straight through the middle as you land behind it. This elicits a chuckle from his lips.
“Always one to put on a show, huh?” He smirks, glancing over at you as if he wasn’t just staring.
“Only if I care who’s watching,” You flirt, giving him a quick smile as the two of you fall back into sync.
It’s only a moment later when you speak again.
“Bend down,” You tell him.
“What?”
“Bend down.”
“Why?”
“Just do it!” You groan. Does he always have to question you? You never question his antics.
“Fine!” He crouches down and slashes at the feet of droids for a moment. You grin wickedly and use his back as a stepping stone, propelling yourself forward as you slice straight through a line of at least five droids.
“Gotcha!” You laugh, continuing to have fun despite being in the midst of a battle. Anakin shakes his head at you, but you see the small smile gracing his face.
“Always so dramatic with your fighting,” He tsks.
“Says Anakin Skywalker, the man who always has to have a dramatic entrance.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment.
“...Touché.”
~+~
Once the battle is over, you look over to Anakin who had made his way across the battlefield while fighting. He’s walking over to you, and he doesn’t look quite happy.
“Before you get mad-” But before you can even finish your sentence, he roughly grabs your wrist and yanks you over to the side of the group that was forming to get ready to leave.
He lets go of you and turns around to look at you, his eyes scanning all over your body. You suddenly feel slightly self-conscious.
“Um...Anakin? Are you checking me out?” You try to tease, but your words seem more shy than bold like you intended. 
“Checking you out for injuries, yes.” He huffs, but you see a slight blush rise to his cheeks, making you feel a little bit triumphant for at least a small victory.
“We have a medic for that.” You muse, growing bolder now that you know you’re not the only one slightly flustered.
“I know but- you could’ve gotten hurt, (Y/n). Why did you come out here?” He seems slightly distressed even after he concludes that you definitely didn’t get any injuries.
“I came to...help? Didn’t you hear me when I arrived?” 
“I didn’t need the help-” 
“Anakin I was literally here. I fought the battle, too, and I saw how many enemies there were. You needed the help.” 
“I...I didn’t want it to be you, though.”
You’re hurt by his words. Your brows furrow and you start to turn away from him. If he’s going to be like that, then you’ll just leave. You don’t have to put up with this.
“No, wait! Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…” He grabs your upper arm to stop you. He rubs the back of his neck nervously as you turn to look back at him.
“How did you mean it, then?” You hum skeptically.
“I...I just worry about you, that’s all. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me, I wouldn’t be able to take the guilt.” He murmurs, much quieter than he was before. You turn back to face him fully again, stepping just slightly closer to him than you were earlier. His face is downcast to the floor.
“Why?” You ask him, tilting his head up to meet your eye.
“I like you.” He blurts out. This makes your eyes widen in surprise. You didn’t think he’d be so...blunt with it.
But once again, before you can continue he tries to explain himself further.
“I like you, (Y/n), and I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt. I wanted to handle myself so that you...well, you wouldn’t have to come down here and you’d be impressed by me getting it done all by myself.” He explains, almost rambling at this point. You put a finger to his lips, successfully shutting him up.
“Ani, I’m already impressed by you every day. You don’t need to take on an entire droid army to impress me, but I do appreciate the thought.” You giggle, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek. You see his face flush again and you smile at the thought of making him feel this way.
You see movement in the background and you look behind Anakin to see some boxes shifting slightly to block the two of you off from the rest of the group.
“What are you doing?” You ask Anakin, knowing that he’s definitely using the force to do that. 
“Just moving some boxes in the way of prying eyes so I can do this.” You don’t have time to react before his lips are on yours. You kiss him back eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck as his arms snake around your waist. 
Once the two of you pull apart for air, there’s a goofy grin on both your faces. 
“I was wondering when that was going to happen,” You giggle.
“We’ll have to keep this a secret from the Order.” Anakin breathes out, the smile not leaving his face as he takes your features in from up this close.
“I’m willing to take the risk.” You smile at him, kissing him again. He melts into your touch.
“Good, because I am, too.” He kisses you one last time. You finally break away from each other, knowing that staying here too long would cause suspicion.
“See you on the ship, Anakin.” You wink at him and walk toward the boxes, shifting them back with the force as you join the group again.
Anakin trails behind a bit, a dumbstruck look still on his face. You’d tell him to be more subtle, but it’s only Anakin’s squad of clones and you know they wouldn’t say anything. That, and it’s too cute for you to ruin.
Obi-Wan was right about you being the one to take calculated risks that you deemed worth it, and you’ve never been more sure about anything: Anakin is a calculated risk that is more than worth it.
~~~~~
Tags: @spideyboipete @rowley-with-ackerman @official-hitmxn @anakinlove
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salty-ironstrange-shipper · 4 years ago
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So 2020 ........... was a year.
But I wrote fanfiction, so why not talk about-
My 2020 Fanfiction Year In Review
Looking at my Ao3 stats, I posted 22 total fics comprising 242k words. Which is a lot, holy shit.
My ironstrange (and a couple of pristine) fics included: 
Begin Again (4507 words; Teen and Up)
So what if we grow old together? (1239 words; Mature)
Don’t Lift The Veil (1689 words; Teen and Up)
Celebration (1086 words; Explicit)
Who Would Ever Dare To Love A Dragon? (6466 words; Mature)
Alone and Together (1541 words; Teen and Up)
Of All The Stars Most Beautiful (8567 words; Explicit) (pristine)
How Can I Repay You? (1335 words; Explicit)
Happy Birthday Mr. Stark (2073 words; Explicit)
The Dragon Prince (12032 words; Explicit)
Seduce Me (2047 words; Explicit) (pristine)
A Strange Wedding (13444 words; Mature) (ironstrange and johnlock crossover)
A Strange Love (5221 words; Mature) (this one is mostly jonlock but in the same series as ASW, so I’m putting it here because fuck you)
Welcome Home (1074 words; Mature)
Beg (2310 words; Explicit)
Loud (5045 words; Explicit)
From the Top: Phase Two (11348 words; Teen and Up)
Synergy (24105 words; Explicit)
being known is being loved (2203 words; Teen and Up)
For a total of 107,332 words. So while I didn’t really have a lot of longer ironstrange fics this year, I still had a lot of fun in this fandom and wrote a lot! 
2020 was also a fun year for me because I started to write kind of longer fics for other fandoms, and 3 that weren’t MCU or ironstrange crossovers:
Stay A Thousand Years (48071; Mature) - This was my first ever and quite possibly only ever Doctor Who fic that I wrote because my favorite character, the bitch, the legend, the king/queen/nonbinary ruler, the Master came back and I needed to get out all my Doctor/Master feels. 
Somebody To Die For (40271 words, incomplete; Mature) - This is a weird one for me because I didn’t want to leave it off the list, but I’ve taken a break from writing it for the time being because I was getting kind of stressed writing it and it wasn’t really making me happy, not to mention I had gone back to class so I didn’t need two big stresses on top of 2020 existing. I do plan to come back to this (maybe when I’m done with my current WIP), so it’s not abandoned, but I’ll get back to it when I think I can write it well and not stress myself out over it.
The Place Between Rage and Serenity is Northeast of Madagascar (46666 words, current Work In Progress; Mature) - This is the fic I’ve been working on now and also the first one where I ever adopted a posting schedule and actually waited to have a few chapters already written before I started posting it. I’m really glad I did because this new method has been much better for managing my stress and letting me balance my favorite hobby and going to college. If you’re having a problem where you’ve slowed down on updating a fic when you started out doing a chapter every 1, 2, 3 days and now you’re stressed and taking forever, I would recommend trying a structured schedule. I currently have about 70k words written (though unedited) and I plan for it to be over 100k (maybe even around 150k or more), and I’m still really excited about this one. I will be taking this one into the New Year (I’m also STRONGLY considering changing the title because it’s so unwieldy, but that’s another thing.)
And that was my 2020 in fanfiction! This year contributed to just over a third of my fanfiction output from 5 years now on ao3! Huh, I wonder what could have happened this year that had me writing more because I was stuck inside and had nothing else to do, that’s so weird-
If anyone else wants to do this, please do and tag me (and feel free to use my header if you want; or don’t, I won’t mind either way)! If looking at your stats makes you stressed and you don’t want to think about it or you don’t have any energy, then don’t! I just wanted to end the year with a bit of fun and positivity about what I actually managed to get done this year. Happy New Year, and let’s get the torches and pitchforks to chase 2020 right on out of here
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whentherewerebicycles · 3 years ago
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hello anon!! okay, this is going to be a very long post, so buckle up. standard caveat: since i don’t know the specifics of your topic or discipline or situation, some of this will hopefully be relevant and some of it might not, so just grab what works for you and leave the rest! and if you have more specific questions that this general overview doesn’t touch on, feel free to send those in.
it sounds like you have a few different questions here:
How do I find and articulate my research question?
How do I effectively take notes on my background reading in the early stages, when I’m not sure yet what my argument is going to be?
How do I organize a long research project/paper? How do I conceptualize something that has so many moving parts & happens to be a genre (a thesis) that I’ve never written before?
How do I write something that long? 
also I am not sure if by “diss” you mean a senior thesis, master’s thesis, or a doctoral dissertation, as I know US and non-US universities use different terminology! so I will kinda just respond to this as A Very Lengthy Research Paper.
my response here will focus mostly on that first question (how to find/articulate a research question), with some thoughts at the end about notetaking in the early stages of a big research project. I’m going to lay out a method I just used with my own students to help them articulate questions & generate possible lines of inquiry to follow. I have been calling it the ‘research tier’ activity/system but it’s a pretty basic way of mapping out possible directions for a project. I use some version of this for every big project I undertake - whether it’s academic work, planning a course syllabus, or writing fic.
I want to emphasize, before I start, that the “tier” map you construct is a LIVING document, not a set-in-stone plan that has to be finished before you begin. the goal is to get past the anxiety of the blank page by generating tons and tons of ideas and questions related to your central topic -- so that if you hit a dead end, you can trace your way back and follow a different line of inquiry. when i am working on a research project, i am continually updating this planning document (i’ll say more about that at the end, once you have a sense of what the tiers look like).
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Those questions are geared towards my students, who are working more in social science-y disciplines and/or on projects that have clear connections to specific communities. If you are writing a more traditional humanities discipline, here are some other examples:
I’m interested in...
the romance novel as a genre
Virginia Woolf’s writings on nature/the environment
the cultural reception and impact of the TV show Will & Grace
what queer social life looked like in 1920s New York
play and playfulness in the college classroom (my current research project, which I’ll use as an example)
once you have some idea of your focus, you can begin generating questions related to that focus. “Tier 2″ begins to get slightly more specific, though you are still very much in “big picture” mode. here’s some sentence stems I give my students to help them generate tier 2 questions:
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my students are doing research projects that are ideally supposed to develop out of their preexisting community involvements or commitments, so i give them this additional advice:
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[note: if your thesis topic is in a social science-y discipline (or a humanities discipline that leans closer to the social sciences), you can probably use some of those ideas or prompts. if your thesis topic is more of a purely academic humanities-type topic (for instance, a literary studies thesis about a specific novel), not all of those will apply perfectly, but some will hopefully be useful still!]
here’s an example, again using my playfulness project. I’ll list the question and then below it, in italics, I’ll explain what ‘stirred up’ that question for me.
T2: What are some core preoccupations or big-picture questions I want to explore? What are some things I’ve noticed that I want to understand?
Core Question 1: Why are college classrooms so serious? Why is there so little playfulness in most college teaching? Why so little laughter, movement, fun?
Observing my friend’s kindergarten classes made me realize how much elementary educators rely on bright colors, movement, singing, playing imaginative games together, etc. to engage young learners’ imaginations, minds, and bodies. Why do we value that so much in elementary education, but stop considering it important in college classes? Do learners “age out” of a need for highly interactive, engaging learning? I suspect no... so that’s a hunch I can begin to follow. 
Observing other college courses (and drawing on my own experience as an undergrad and grad student) made me realize how much educators rely on the same standard methods of teaching (lecturing with a discussion section; a version of Socratic seminar discussion that is primarily led by the professor). To me, these methods are antithetical to playfulness and tend to quash people’s ability or desire to playfully experiment, try things out, risk failure, etc. I wonder if the actual methods we use to teach content or to structure our classes are producing ‘serious’ classes, whether or not we personally as instructors want that to happen. That’s another hunch I could follow...
I’m thinking of a possible connection here to my past research on the origins of English literature as a discipline (in 1920s-30s England). One of the things that scholars often emphasize is how hard faculty had to work to transform English into a serious, rigorous, ‘legitimate’ discipline, akin to the hard sciences. That’s something that I think we still see today in the way people anxiously defend the value of a humanities education. I’m curious about whether the need to justify our existence as a discipline/field of study influences our methods of teaching college students. Do we banish playfulness from the classroom because it threatens that image of the humanities as a serious, rigorous discipline? That’s yet another hunch I could follow... 
Core Question 2: I have a hunch that people learn better in playful environments. Is that true -- and if so, why? What is it about playfulness that enhances learning?
I’m a lifelong fangirl, and fandoms are creative environments where people are continually engaged in acts of imaginative play. I’ve observed and have experienced firsthand how these playful environments seem to encourage people to try new things, take creative risks, learn new skills even if they’re afraid they’ll be ‘bad’ at them, and commit huge amounts of time, energy, and passion to long-term creative projects that don’t make any money or ‘earn’ them a grade. I’m curious about how we might adapt the playful, passionate energy of fan spaces to college teaching.
In my own classrooms, I’ve noticed that students get so much more into the activity (and seem to internalize the content more deeply) when I frame it as an imaginative exercise, a roleplaying activity, or a game of some kind. Teaching the same content in a way that encourages playfulness seems to produce deeper engagement (and deeper learning?) than using the traditional methods of ‘serious’ teaching.
Core Question 3: Playfulness and shared laughter/fun seem to build social bonds (again, drawing on my experiences in fandom). Could shared imaginative play help students develop better social skills? Could it help build a sense of community in the classroom and strengthen students’ sense of belonging? This question feels especially urgent to me given the epidemic of self-reported loneliness, anxiety, and depression on college campuses. 
*
You can have lots more than 3 core questions/preoccupations! In fact, the more ideas you can generate at this stage the better. The idea isn’t to hone in on your research question (yet) but to generate as many possible paths you could take, so that you can begin evaluating which interest you most, or which seem like the most fruitful questions to explore/answer. Doing the idea-generating for Tier 2 should already begin to set you up for Tier 3 -- which involves articulating specific sub-questions you’ll need to answer to better understand or answer those core questions/preoccupations.
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and then we’ll go ahead and fold in T4, as I tend to move back and forth between T3/T4 as I brainstorm.
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I’ll just take one of my Tier 2 questions as an example, but again, you can/should do this for all of yours (or at least the ones that interest you most).
Core question: Playfulness and shared laughter/fun seem to build social bonds (again, drawing on my experiences in fandom). Could shared imaginative play help students develop better social skills? etc etc
T3 subquestions (with T4 “directions for inquiry” folded into the first one, so you can see an example):
-- SubQ1 Does play actually strengthen social bonds? If so, how? Are specific kinds of play better for this than others (ie, collaborative or cooperative play compared to competitive play)? With Tier 4 folded in:
Do a library database search to try to figure out where “play” research typically happens -- is it in psychology research? Neuroscience? Early childhood education?
Then begin searching for different keyword strings that might help me gather up initial sources. Some initial ideas: play + social bonding, play + social skills, play + social development, play + cooperation, play + friendship, play + mental health. (Typically finding a couple useful/relevant articles will help you generate better keywords -- as you can begin to see the kinds of terminology that researchers use to describe your topic.)
I could also maybe interview college students themselves, or design a survey - but that would depend on the type of research I want to do. Do I want to conduct my own original research study, or is my focus more on synthesizing existing research from different fields to construct an argument? 
Could I find faculty or researchers who work on these topics, who might be able to direct me to specific resources or help me understand what kind of work has already been done on this topic? Maybe I can’t find someone who specifically researches playfulness, but an educational researcher whose work focuses on social-emotional learning would probably have a pretty good understanding of what features or pedagogical choices help create positive, affirming learning environments.
-- SQ2: Are college students lonely?
Are they reporting (or do they experience) higher rates of mental illness? What are the numbers on this?
What are some of the prevalent theories or hypotheses about why this is? Could social isolation or difficulty forming friendships be a possible contributing factor?
-- SQ3: Why are social bonds good for us - physically, mentally, emotionally?
-- SQ4: Do social bonds enhance learning? If so, how?
What if I looked to other non-academic learning environments (such as fandoms, team sports or group activities, etc where people are learning new skills in highly social settings) to make a case for playfulness in the college classroom? This isn’t direct 1:1 proof that “more playfulness in college classrooms = happier, more socially well-connected students,” but offering detailed descriptions of how those learning environments are structured might spark ideas for my audience (university instructors and administrators) or persuade them that playfulness has an important social-emotional role to play in college learning.  
*
Typically what ends up happening is I produce a huge, messy document (or fill a giant paper or whiteboard if I’m doing it by hand) that has tons and tons of different directions I might follow. usually, the initial process of creating this giant brainstorming document sparks lots of ideas for where to begin researching. then, as i go off and begin reading articles, those articles typically help flesh out my understanding of the core questions or concepts i’m interested in, or my understanding of what kind of research on this topic already exists vs. where the gaps are that my own work might be able to fill. that initial source-gathering phase of research will also usually spark new questions and sub-questions, which get added to my tier map.
having some kind of messy brainstorming map/plan also helps me read in a more focused way. instead of just opening a random article and skimming it without any clear sense of what i’m looking for, i’m now opening articles and reading them with a purpose -- i’m looking for answers to the specific questions i’ve articulated. so i can skim in a more focused way, looking for specific keywords that seem relevant, and i can also take notes in a more focused way, noting down key ideas that
having a question in mind can also help me figure out more quickly if the article is relevant to my research questions or not. for instance, let’s say i open an article about how playing competitive games in high school PE classes improve students’ self-reported moods. if i didn’t know what i was reading for, i might spend a lot of time on this article, trying to figure out if it was relevant to my research (it has the keywords, right? so maybe it’s relevant?). but if i am reading with a specific question in mind (“Do collaborative learning games help strengthen students’ sense of social connection?”) I can tell pretty quickly that this article is not going to be that useful, since it focuses on competitive physical games (probably not something I’ll integrate into an English class). so I can say with some confidence, “I probably don’t need to read this whole thing, but maybe I’ll check out their lit review section or their bibliography to see if the authors cite any other work on play/playfulness that might be more relevant to my specific questions.” 
i think i’ve kinda started to answer your second question about notetaking here, too, so i will also say that in the early stages of a big research project, i am absolutely NOT taking detailed notes on any of the sources i find. my focus is much more on amassing a large pool of highly relevant sources that i know i’m going to want to go back to and read more deeply as my research questions come into sharper focus. this is because deep reading burns through a lot of time and energy, so i want to make sure i’m saving that deep reading energy for sources that are quite likely to be relevant to my project. 
to figure out if a source is relevant, I often skim the abstract and introduction to figure out the core questions the article or chapter is seeking to answer. then I ask myself three questions:
Are the core questions of this article the same as (or very similar to) my core questions or subquestions? If so, mark this citation as HIGHLY relevant - I’m going to want to come back and read this source carefully, to see if it’s already suggested answers to the questions I’m asking. 
Do the core questions of this article seem to resonate with my core questions, even if we’re not asking them in exactly the same way, or the author of this paper is applying them to a different field? If so, mark this citation as LIKELY relevant - it may not be a perfect 1:1 with my own questions, but that can sometimes spark exciting new ideas or ways of reframing my original questions. If not, toss it.
Do the questions this article is asking suggest new questions or lines of inquiry that I am interested in exploring? Sometimes an article will introduce me to a whole new area of research or a new array of questions I hadn’t even originally thought to explore. If that’s the case, I typically pencil those sub-questions into my brainstorming tier document and mark the source as LIKELY or HIGHLY relevant, depending on how excited i am about it. 
OK I WILL CLOSE HERE FOR NOW as I have to get back to work, but I will say that when I taught my students this method, they were very confused by the initial explanation of it, but then when they went back and used the models to work through the tier brainstorming activity for themselves, they seemed to find it really useful. so if you are scratching your head, try doing a quick TIER 1 - TIER 2 - TIER 3 - TIER 4 map for your own research question to see if doing it yourself helps clarify. also: if you can’t get further than tier 2, it’s usually a sign that you need to do some more reading and freewriting about the questions that you’re curious about, or the gaps you’ve noticed in the scholarship, or the threads you’d like to follow. but you can do some of that background reading in a more focused way now, using your initial big questions to help guide your selection of background readings & give you a sense of purpose as you read.
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editorofeverything · 4 years ago
Text
Day 6? of going through my drafts I never finished or posted because ✧Low Self-Esteem✧
Except I started going through my fanfic folder... and getting really into the plotlines I had going on there... and I may have started completing them all of a sudden?? I won’t question it because I’m afraid the will to write will suddenly go away so here is my now complete first part of my Daminette fic I wrote like a year ago?
So, without further ado, here is four times the Ladybug magic teleported Marinette to where she would be safest, and the one time she was already there—Part One.
~
When Tim Drake started his nightly shift in the Batcave with a pot of coffee in hand and a research project in the works, he didn’t expect a magical portal to spit out a ladybug themed superhero at the Batmobile with a cut off scream.
He froze as the swirling red portal disappeared and the hero that made a dent in the Batmobile stopped moving. He reached over and pushed the SOS button that would alert the others that something was wrong before grabbing his coffee mug as a weapon and heading over towards the girl.
She was small, was his first discovery. Probably shorter and younger than Damian, and yet she was wearing a bright red suit over her curled body and a mask over her closed eyes. She was hurt, and Tim didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t slept in over a week and the brain cells that were left were combusting at the sight of a child crumbled on the floor after playing the hero game.
He sucked in a breath and froze at the puddle of blood starting to pool under her head. The crashing of glass broke him out of his stupor and he barely noticed his favorite mug broken on the floor beside him before he threw himself at the girl’s side and eased her onto her back so he could look her over. All he could do was breathe a sigh of relief when he could feel her pulse beating weakly. He tried her mask first, and, after discovering that it wouldn’t budge from her skin, he realized that whatever magic she possessed would prevent him from checking her for injuries.
He brushed her hair out of her face and saw the bruises and scrapes all over before he checked her head. Her lips parted in a small cry when he touched a tender spot and he cursed at his red coated fingers when he pulled away.
“What the hell is it now, Drake? Do you even know what time it is?” Jason walked over with Alfred on his tail and rested his hand on Tim’s shoulder, startling him. “What’s up-? Who the fuck is that?”
“She teleported here. She’s… Jay, she’s hurt really bad and she’s some type of magic so I don’t even know how hurt she is and-” A beep interrupted his rant and they both looked for the source on her.
“Alfred, get the first aid kit and get the others in here.”
“Of course, Master Jason.”
~
“All I’m saying, Father, is that maybe if we put him through a rehab system, these ridiculous late night emergencies would decrease.”
“They’re not all hallucinations, Damian. We haven’t had an incident since last month.”
“Until now,” Damian huffed as he and his father ran into Alfred who was carrying a first aid kit, some blankets, and some towels.
“Was Tim injured, Alfred?”
“No, Master Bruce. There seems to be an intruder in the Batcave. I believe Master Tim and Master Jason are currently trying to assess her for injuries, but it seems she is of the magical variety and her suit is giving them some trouble.”
Damian was already sprinting to the cave while Bruce grabbed some of the items from Alfred and walked with him to the group of his kids kneeling around a small figure on the ground.
Damian saw the dent in the Batmobile before he saw the girl and actually stopped in surprise. “She did that?”
Bruce followed behind him and made a surprised noise as well before moving towards Tim and Jason’s side. “What happened?”
“A portal opened up and she was thrown into the Batmobile. She’s been unconscious the whole time. Her head is bleeding and I wouldn’t be surprised if she has a concussion. I can tell she’s hurt more, but we can’t take off her suit to check.”
Jason placed a towel under her head and she moaned at the movement, her eyes fluttering.
“She has these earrings that have been beeping for the past three minutes. I think they might be where she gets her powers from. They seem to be timing out.”
A final beeping noise echoed throughout the cave before a bright pink shine encased her body, revealing a small girl. She had blackish-blue hair tied in falling pigtails, pale skin that was speckled with bruises and lacerations. Her clothes looked impeccable, though the blood from her wounds was starting to soak into her red sundress.
“What the actual fuck is that?” Jason spotted a round, red figure moving on the girls collarbone.
The bat family took in the little red bug as it sat up and shook its head before seeming to notice the girl she was on.
“Marinette!” the thing spoke and Tim clutched Damian’s arm with an urgency that startled him.
“Please tell me you heard that thing talk.” Damian patted Tim’s hand lightly.
“You are not alone in hearing the kwami talk, Master Tim.” Alfred straightened up at the sight of the mystical being fretting over her charge’s unresponsive body.
“Kwami?” Bruce muttered under his breath, looking to Alfred for answers.
“Tikki, Goddess of Creation,” Alfred pressed his fist into his hand and bowed towards her, “how may we assist you?”
Tikki turned her wide eyes to Alfred and floated up to him. “Please help her! She’s more hurt than I can heal, and the fight is still waging on! Without Ladybug, the entire team will fail!”
Bruce straightened up at that and turned to his sons. “Jason, Tim, keep pressure on her head wound and wrap up any minor lacerations. She’s lost too much blood. Damian, come with me so we can get some more supplies for Miss Marinette.”
“Father, a word, please?” Bruce paused as soon as they exited the cave and were heading for the kitchen with a list of things Alfred told them to grab like water, cookies, and something light for Marinette when she would wake up. Damian had gotten better with being open and calm with his family for a while, but it still took time to unlearn years of life being taught one way for so long.
“What is it, Damian?”
“I… I know everyone’s concerned about the girl—I am too—but has anyone thought of what will happen if she wakes up? Will she recognize the Batcave? Will we reveal our identities to her, especially since she’s been forcefully revealed to us? What if she doesn’t wake up? How will we explain how a foreign girl ended up in Gotham?”
“These are all good questions, Damian, and I’m glad you’re able to share your concerns with me. In this matter, though… I believe we’ll just take Alfred’s que for right now. If at any point you feel uncomfortable with your identity being discovered when Miss Marinette wakes up, then you can leave and we’ll fill you in later.”
Damien’s silence carried into the kitchen as Bruce started handing things to him to take back.
“I’ll go back,” Damien finally said as Bruce pulled the cookie jar off the cabinet, planning on taking the whole thing. Who knew how much those kwamis could eat? Bruce certaintly didn’t, and the fact they were magic too didn’t help him any. “I think… Alfred usually knows best, and I trust his judgement… As well as the rest of the family’s. I want to make sure the girl is okay firsthand, and we can go from there.”
Bruce felt a wave of affection and pride towards his son, and wished Damian would look him in the eyes, but he would settle with placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Then, let’s go give them a hand, son.”
~
Bruce and Damian joined the group quickly enough to arrive just as Tikki and Alfred were starting their own conversation while Jason and Tim assisted the girl. Damian stood with his father, both with their guard up in case someone could possibly track Marinette and Tikki down. Magic, they agreed before they entered the room, is a fickle thing, and they didn’t want to take any chances of their family, or their sudden patient, to be caught off guard.
“You were a previous Miraculous holder, weren’t you? I can sense your bright soul. Who was your chosen?” Tikki asked, hovering just over Marinette’s collarbone. Alfred didn’t know if it was because she was protective of the girl or injured herself, but he felt it too rude to ask directly of the tiny god.
“Duusu, the Peafowl Miraculous of Emotion. We were separated after a year of us working together, and I never knew what happened to him or Nooroo, who was taken as well.” Alfred could tell Master Bruce and the boysr were listening intently on their conversation, but wouldn’t interrupt. Detectives they might be, but Alfred raised Master Bruce, and they, in turn, raised the boys to have manners. He could sense their questions piling up, but was confident they would save them for after they delt with Marinette’s most pressing wounds.
“Unfortunately, they ended up in the wrong hands. It’s why Ladybug and Chat Noir were called together in the first place. Marinette has made excellent work in finding and defeating Hawkmoth, but there has been too many obstacles in her way lately. She’s been through a lot…” Tikki turned on to face Marinette and Alfred was overcome at the overwhelming sense of sadness emanating from Tikki.
“We will do all we can for her,” he choked out, and shook his head at Jason and Tim, who paused at the catch in Alfred’s voice. “For such a young child to be a holder though…” Tikki sat on Alfred’s shoulder as Tim and Jason started wrapping Marinette’s head gently and patched up some larger cuts she had on her side. Her ribs were likely broken if the mottled bruised running down her side were anything to go by, and her ankle seemed to be sprained, if not broken as well.
“The previous Guardian made a rushed decision on who to choose for the Miraculous. It just so happens that Marinette is the one soul in this lifetime that resonates with mine. Despite her age, she has become one of the best Ladybugs I’ve had the honor of assisting, and she is now the Guardian of the Miraculous Box as well.”
“Guardian? She’s a Guardian as well? How could that be?”
“The previous Guardian’s identity was compromised by Hawkmoth, the villain with the butterfly miraculous. He’s been terrorizing Paris for almost three years now. Marinette had to step in as Guardian or the Miraculous Box would be lost.”
“Tikki…” The girl winced away from Jason and Tim’s hands and she whimpered.
“Tikki…” Bruce began in a steely tone, “how old is Miss Marinette?”
“She’s turning eighteen in a few months. I know she’s young, and I hate to put so much on her shoulders, but she’s the only one who can be Ladybug, and competent enough to be Guardian. She’s intelligent, strong emotionally and physically, and her heart is pure. She is the embodiment of what Ladybug is supposed to be.” After that speech, Damian took a breath and knelt down between Todd and Drake to assist. They still didn’t know everything, which could be dangerous for them, but Damian felt that if he were to take a chance on anyone, it would be this girl that was worthy of so much power and responsibility.
As soon as Damian brushed his fingers against her wrist to check for a break, however, the girl suddenly seized up and Damian jolted his hand away. Tikki gave him a strange look before floating over to her chosen.
“Tikki!” Marinette shot up, instantly collapsing with her head pressed into her knees with a groan. Tikki nudged Marinette cheek with her head reassuringly.
“It’s ok, Marinette. We’re safe for now. Please lie down or you’ll hurt yourself more.”
“Safe…? But where are we? School?”
“I believe that a Ladybug power was activated when Mayura cornered you. It teleported you to where you would be safest in the world.”
“Safest?” Marinette looked around and seemed to panic at the group of men surrounding her. “Oh my god, who are these people?! Did they see me transform? Tikki, you’re supposed to stay hidden!”
“Excuse me, Miss Marinette, but you can rest assured that you and Tikki are safe here.” Alfred rested a gentle hand on her arm, and she immediately relaxed. “I know first-hand the challenges of being a Miraculous holder, and we will do everything in our power to assist you if need be.”
For a moment, Marinette seemed paralyzed. She was looking at Alfred unfocusedly, as if she was seeing right through him. Suddenly, she met his eyes and started speaking a language only the three could understand.
“You have the soul of emotion and light. Touched by one who has been stolen and corrupted. You have my trust and thanks for your assistance, young Peafowl.” Marinette stated in an ancient, unfamiliar language before blinking out of her haze and nearly falling to one side if Damian hadn’t grabbed her and kept her propped up.
“Sorry,” she blinked slowly and focused on Alfred again, “I’m still getting used to that.”
“Your trust in me is an honor, my lady Guardian, but I doubt I can be considered very young anymore,” Alfred said with some humor in his voice. Marinette smiled warmly at him and, with the help of Damian, Jason, and Tim, eased back onto a few blankets and some towels to cushion her beating head.
“Damian, pass some water over,” Tim asked, still checking over Marinette’s head. Damian did so, being uncharacteristically silent during the entire conversation.
“My head is fine,” Marinette said in a thick accent. “I believe I hit it after I have been teleported, not during the battle.”
“You speak English very well, Miss,” Bruce praised, leading to Jason cooing at her blush.
“Ah, well, it’s important to be able to communicate with tourist during akuma attacks. I’m afraid I haven’t had much practice, though. And it’s definitely not as good as your French.” Marinette gave a shy, kind smile to Alfred.
“What did I hit my head on, anyways? I’ve been thrown before, but I’ve never hit anything so hard that I’ve passed out and detransformed.”
The resounding silence echoed throughout the room and Marinette took a breath before sitting up properly and keeping her gaze steady at the ground.
“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know. Don’t even tell me your names.”
“Miss?”
“I’m a superhero fighting an evil villain with magic jewelry, I know the awkward ‘I have a secret I can’t tell you’ silence. I haven’t exactly been on this side of the conversation much though. I understand. Just let me catch my breath and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“’Catch your breath?’ You have a concussion! And broken ribs! You can’t fight like this!” Jason was getting too worked up, but this was a child.
“Yes, I can. Just give me a minute. I’ve fought in worse conditions, and I’ll be better once I can reverse the damage.”
“Reverse the damage?” Damian said, and was almost disappointed when Marinette didn’t look at him directly. She wasn’t looking at any of them, except for Alfred, in the face. Deniability, most likely, but definitely not what he was initially expecting when he decided to stay with his family despite the chances of being recognized.
“Tikki?” Marinette said, and rested her head against the Batmobile while she started poking at her wounds.
“I give Marinette many powers. One of which is the power of the Miraculous Ladybug. It reverts ay damage done by a kwami instantaneously. In fact, the dent in your motorized vehicle should be back to normal as well once the battle is won.”
“Tikki, I need to know how the fight is going. Be stealthy and take a look, and grab Khalki. I’ll need him to teleport back to Paris. I don’t want to risk using whatever power got me here in the first place.”
“I’ll be right back!” Tikki turned towards Alfred and patted him gently on the cheek. “I leave my chosen in your hands, Alfred. Look after her, please.”
“Of course, Tikki.”
“Thank you, young Peafowl.” Alfred returned her smile instantly before Tikki disappeared through the floor.
~
“So, let’s play ‘Do I Have a Concussion 20 Questions!’” Jason announced after he and Tim propped her up between them, leaning against the dent in the Batmobile.
Damian sat in front of them while Bruce and Alfred had moved over to the Batcomputer to try and do some research into the Miraculous themselves.
Marinette giggled and focused herself from closing her eyes by chipping at her black nail polish.
“So question number one: what is your name?” Tim was holding the broken handle of his coffee mug in his fist and was talking into it like it was a microphone.
“Marinette, but you already knew that,” Marinette said in a teasing tone.
“True, but this is if you know your name, not for us, little lady,” Jason bumped her shoulder with his gently and she giggled again.
They went through a few questions that were vague enough not to uncover her identity completely, but still show that she had her wits about her. Where are you from? Paris, of course. Do you go to public, private, or home school? Public! I hate homeschooling. Do you live with your parents? Yeah… oh I left my phone with my stuff at school. They’re probably worried sick. Do you have a job?
“Oh!” Marinette suddenly exclaimed, jolting where she sat. “Maman and Papa are going to be so disappointed if I can’t get home in time to watch the bakery! They’re going on a date tonight, and we have three orders to fill… I wonder if I can get Chloe to push their reservation…”
Jason shared an apologetic look with Tim when they realized how much she just let out. Damian was alarmed. She didn’t even seem to notice how much she just gave away about herself during her rambling.
“Why are you telling us all of this?” Damian finally asked after a moment of silence. He didn’t understand this girl. She was in a strange place, surrounded by strangers, and willing to avoid looking at them or around to keep them comfortable with their secrets, and the she goes and basically tells them where she lives.
“I know it might not makes sense, but as Ladybug and Guardian, I can sense things most people can’t, and I’ve learned to trust myself above all. My powers brought me here because I’m safe, and I can sense that you all have pure souls. You two even have souls saturated in Destruction energy… The Black Cat’s energy. It balances my own soul out well… How did you come across a Lazurus pit?”
Jason and Damian jolt and look at each other. Bruce was at Damian’s side in the next moment. “How do you know about the Lazurus pits?” He asked in a cautious tone, though Marinette didn’t seem to notice. She was still picking at her nail polish and Damian had a moment of irritation at the flaky mess until he realized she was probably doing it to keep her focus off of them.
“I am Guardian, and Tikki’s chosen. I know everything there is to know about the Miraculous, though I only recall the information when I needs to be used. When the Ladybug and Cat’s miraculous are combined, the holder may make a wish. One of those wishes was to be immortal. The Lazurus pits were created out of that wish, but the price was heavy. To manipulate a soul into bearing life after one should die… it leaves a mark—mentally, physically, emotionally… Most of the Lazurus pits were destroyed to restore balance, but some still remain in this world to keep the balance of what was already taken as its price. If they were all to be destroyed, something else in the world would have to be as well to keep balance.”
The resounding silence in the room felt suffocating, but Marinette just smiled reassuringly and brushed her dress down. Damian suddenly noticed that he felt… calmer in her presence than he usually would with someone he met barely twenty minutes ago.
Marinette’s voice brought him out of his thoughts once more. “Tikki is coming back.”
The kwami suddenly appeared a moment later with another one right behind her. Marinette smile and held out her hand.
“Hello, Khalki.”
“My Lady,” Khalki purred, floating around her hand.
“The fight is still going, Marinette. Chat Noir and Queen Bee are playing decoy and distraction. I informed them that you had been transported away for your safety and that we would be present for the fight soon. Hawkmoth and Mayura can’t end the fight and get what they want without Ladybug present, and Chat Noir and Queen Bee are smart enough not to let them leave or capture them while you’re gone. Both sides are playing it safe and waiting for your return.” During Tikki’s rundown, Marinette slowly but surely began to stand on her own, leaning against the Batmobile.
“Well, let’s give them an entrance they won’t forget. Are they all still at the Tower?”
“Yes. Chat Noir has followed your direction to keep them centered there well.”
“Good. Tikki, spots on. Khalki, Tikki, merge.” The family all stood and watched in amazement and shock as Marinette glowed that same pink hue before the red and black spotted heroine stood before them.
“Your injuries are still there.” Damian broke the silence to his family’s surprise. “You should be careful and finish your battle quickly to minimize your injuries until you can heal.”
Marinette seemed surprised, focusing on his shirt, the closest she’s gotten to looking his in the eyes the entire time she had been there. He almost… wanted her to. He wanted to look directly into her bright blue eyes and let her see him as he saw her… He shook himself out of that embarrassing train of thought just as Ladybug said something that caused a portal to appear.
“Thank you for your help…” Marinette nodded to them and looked one last time at Alfred. “I hope we meet again, young Peafowl.”
“As do I, my lady Guardian,” he bowed.
Ladybug turned and was suddenly gone. The only evidence of her being there was the broken remains of Tim’s broken mug and the huge dent in the Batmobile.
“Well, I’m going to sleep,” Tim announced to the room. “Someone else can take night shift tonight and someone can also tell me this wasn’t all some fever dream in the morning.”
Half an hour later, Damian, who had volunteered to stay up and finish the nightly watch in order to gather more information of the Miraculous and Marinette, noticed Tim’s mug appear sitting perfectly on the floor half full of the sludge he must’ve been drinking before it had broken and the dent in the Batmobile disappear in a wave of ladybugs.
Damian smirked at the knowledge that she and her team had won their battle, and that, if these items were fixed, then so were Marinette’s injuries. He ignored the part of him that felt… proud at the knowledge of her win, and happy knowing she was healed.
Damian grabbed the mug off the floor and took it with him to drop off in the kitchen while he searched for a snack. All his searching through all the bakeries in Paris was starting to make him hungry, especially the one he left on the Batcomputer. He would have to see if the Dupain-Cheng Bakery catered internationally, or if the woman posing with her husband in the owner’s bio passed down her black-blue hair to any daughters his age.
~
UPDATE: Here’s the link to the next part and the AO3 link for anyone who wants to continue!
Next - AO3 Link
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soldouthaz · 4 years ago
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hi!! these past few months i’ve gotten several asks about all different parts of my writing process and i thought i’d go ahead and make a full post that i can refer people back to in the future! with the fests coming up as well hopefully it may help someone because i know i always love reading about author’s processes! feel free to let me know if i’ve forgotten anything :) 
DISCLAIMER: this is MY writing process. these are my own opinions and maybe not methods that will work blanketly for everyone. writing is different for every person and you should always do what works best for you personally! 
this post will be split into four parts - before, during, after, and other tips and things to remember :)
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inspiration & idea 
this is typically either the easiest or the absolute most difficult part of writing a fic. sometimes you begin with an exact idea and other times you want to write but have no idea where to start. personally i tend to draw inspiration from a few places in particular. writing prompt and dialogue blogs, although sometimes a bit cliche, are a huge help when trying to come up with ideas for scenes and outlines. these are some good ones – here, here, and here if you need some inspiration! pinterest and weheartit are also great places to search for inspiration both before or after you’ve settled on an idea. find an aesthetic you like and base the characters around it, do some world-building, create folders for your characters - this is a good place to reference back to while you’re writing! at this point i just try to pick something that i feel like ‘calls to me’ and leave the rest for later. the last avenue that i use to think of fic ideas is real life. i think of small things that have happened to me or to someone i know and make them much more dramatic and layered. add in some fluff or angst or whatever aspect fits and usually a storyline begins to carve itself!
outline 
once you have an idea, making an outline can help you figure out if it’s going to work for you or not. nailing down the important details and plot points before you begin writing is crucial so that you have a purpose to your scenes, so that things don’t feel repetitive or pointless. when i outline i tend to organize by word count. for instance, by the 5k mark let’s say i’d like to already have established what character A does for a living and some of their interests, and i’d like character B to be vaguely introduced. by 10k i’d like the characters to have formed a friendship and for the conflict to have been introduced, so on and so forth. the plot spacing may differ based on the goal word count for a fic (do things happen quickly or is it a slow burn? etc.). 
next I make a tentative timeline for the fic. I have to give myself sufficient time to plan and to write without rushing myself, but also make it reasonable enough that i can still look forward to it! writing takes different amounts of time for different people, but the more you write the more you’ll be able to estimate how long a certain word count is going to take you to complete. also, as far as advice goes, decide if you’re going to write everything and publish at once or if you’re going to upload weekly chapters, etc. i strongly recommend publishing a full work at once. typically people shy away from unfinished works and it can be very disheartening when there are almost no reads. publishing all at once will raise the chances of your fic being read and shared and will also help you as a writer not to make mistakes because you are able to go back and fix/edit certain plot points as you write. 
organization 
if you have more than one wip at a time, it can be really helpful to have some sort of organization in place. i write primarily in google docs, so i have one master doc with all of my wip information inside of it. i use a numbered chart (the docs themselves are titled with numbers only and correspond to the number in the chart) that has the tentative title, the goal word count, the current word count, which pov i plan to write from, and an estimated posting date. you can also limit the number of wips you have this way.once a work is published i move it from my wip list to my completed list, with the title, the final word count, and a link to the posted story. this part is optional, it just helps me to be able to see all of it in one place. i’ve found this method to be much more helpful than just making random notes on my phone that i forget about within the hour!
research 
depending on the topic of your fic and the setting, you may need to do some research beforehand. if it’s historical, I brush up on the history of it and watch some films or read some books about the time period to get a feel for the vernacular and style, etc.. if the protagonist has a job i’m unfamiliar with I search up what they do, how much they make, where they work, and things like that. it’s unlikely that someone is going to fact check every little thing, but accuracy when it comes to these topics is very admirable and i feel like it really adds a lot of depth and authenticity to a fic. 
another fun activity for this portion of planning is designing the characters. i try to do this for a lot of mine and experiment with personality traits, quirks, and appearances, and to create a character that feels layered as opposed to just surface level. it’s fun for me to figure out their morals and motives and opinions and to play around with those and see if they can be changed throughout the course of the story. an interesting activity here is to take personality tests from what you think they would answer about themselves! then, even if only subconsciously, your character now has interests and hobbies and feels more real, which will definitely show through when you write. there are some for you to take here, here, here, and here, and this is also a good resource.
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atmosphere 
(meaning in real life, not the setting of a fic). i tend to produce what i feel is my best work at night, after dinner when i have nothing else to do for the day and i can just relax. having a designated time and space to write really helps with motivation and focus, and can be the difference in accomplishing your time goals for the fic. feel free to try different things like adding music while you write (i write with headphones in and music blasting!) and adjust your surroundings to your liking. put on noise cancelling headphones, stop the clock that keeps ticking in the background or turn up the floor fan to drown other things out, or play some ambience videos from youtube to help you focus. whatever works! sometimes i also create playlists for my fics that i listen to while writing them which can add some more depth to the story too! being comfortable and not distracted are my two main requirements. also, unless it’s for music or research purposes, i would suggest distancing a bit from your phone as well!
word vomit 
this is one of the most frustrating parts of writing but i can’t explain how many times it’s helped me, especially when i’m trying to reach a certain word count. i like to do an exercise when i don’t know what to write or i just have a vague idea where i sit down and just write. i don’t let myself backspace anything (unless it’s a small typo or something minor like that) and i just see where i end up. the reason why this is so helpful is because a lot of times subconsciously our brains already have some kind of idea of a direction to go in or what should be included. though this rough draft almost never makes it into my final piece and frankly doesn’t make much sense, i’m able to go back and read over it and think oh! that’s a good point, i can also write about [random plot point] here! as i think of it.
dialogue 
the very first part of a scene that i write is the dialogue. personally i find it the easiest, and it helps me make a skeleton of a scene where i only have to fill in the descriptions in between. most of the time getting the dialogue written can help to visualize a scene and make conversation flow easily when you aren’t distracted with everything else going on in the scene. a lot of times if you’re focused on what a background character is doing the actual speaking may end up choppy or not make sense when you’re finished with it, which is usually my issue. this method is a good idea to use if you find yourself stuck on a scene or if you don’t know what you want the setting to be yet. if the dialogue you wrote doesn’t fit just right once you’ve added in the rest of the scene, you can always alter it to your liking.
taking breaks 
this is the key to staying motivated for me. if i push myself too hard or write for too long i get frustrated and struggle to keep the flow going. it’s important to take a break when that happens because it becomes very obvious in your writing when you aren’t inspired. you’re more likely to take the easy way out of conflicts and dialogue and it could completely change the tone of the fic. by this i don’t mean procrastinate writing, but definitely make sure not to over-write. writing should be fun, not stressful.
similar fics 
this step is 100% optional, but i find that it really helps me. when i read other author’s fics and i get inspired, the scene really sticks in my brain. to avoid accidentally copying someone’s ideas from their own fic, if i know that i’m writing something similar, i avoid reading any fic with a similar premise during the entire writing process. even if i think i won’t, often times i’ll subconsciously mirror a scene or a piece of dialogue from another fic without meaning to. this is definitely something to look for when you’re reading it back over!
balanced elements 
this step really just depends on the type of fic i’m going for, but i’ve found that fics with some balance to them tend to do better than others. by this i mean fics that have a little of each important element like angst, fluff, smut, etc.. of course, this differs from fic to fic depending on the plot. if it’s a pwp, obviously the main element will be smut. if it’s got some heavy topics in it it may be primarily angst, or a holiday fic might be just fluff. all of these are okay on their own but it’s super easy to mix them together to create more realistic scenes and meaningful emotion in the dialogue. in a pwp i try to add some back story into it, something a little angsty or that gives the smut more meaning than just surface level (unless of course that’s what you’re going for!). on the flip side, you could take a really fluffy fic and at some smutty elements that enhance the love-y feelings from the fluff. even fluff/angst might be fun to explore! my point is that realistically we feel many emotions at once, all the time. when i write one alone my writing often feels like it falls flat and my message/theme doesn’t come across the way that i want it to.
resources 
there is a list of resources and links at the bottom of this post that may help during the writing process! they are ones that I have saved to look back at when I get stuck!
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read it over 
this is my least favorite step. at this point, once i’ve finished the fic, i just want to post it as-is. i don’t feel like reading it over or doing edits - i just want to be finished with it. the benefits outweigh my dislike of it though, so i make myself do it anyway. it’s necessary (for me) to take a short break between when i finish it and when i read it over so that i can look at it with fresh eyes, just a day or two at least. the most important advice that i can give here would probably be not to delete anything you don’t like immediately. almost 100% of the time something can be re-written without being deleted, so if you don’t like the way a sentence is structured or the way a character speaks in a certain scene, don’t delete it! just see if you can rewrite it to model what you’re going for better. this step helps me to stay above my goal word count and not to let my insecurity get the best of me. everybody is their own worst critic, but usually there’s a reason you wrote something down, so give it every chance before you get rid of it altogether. i wrote about this here as well.
beta’s 
i’m going to link to another post i answered about betas here!
choosing a title 
when it’s time to choose a title for a fic i usually pick from one of four places. the first is a catchphrase from the fic. if there’s a recurring theme or nickname or description, it may be a good idea to title it the same thing so that readers will connect the title with that detail and remember it more easily in the future. the second place is from a song. there’s a lyric for nearly every different message and emotion, so there’s a high chance of being able to find one that goes hand-in-hand with a fic. the third place i look is in poems. i’m personally a big fan of lang leav, michael faudet, and bukowski, among others, and poetry usually also features a wide range of themes to choose from. the last idea i resort to when i can’t come up with anything else, which is to take a word that you feel represents the fic and translate it into another language like french or spanish, among others, or pick a word that has a meaning that corresponds with the fic. although there are no right or wrong titles, i would suggest to try not to pick a title that’s been used a lot already, or one that you think might be easily forgettable. even if you think it might be odd or not typical, people are going to remember it much more than if it’d just been a regular title.
choosing a summary 
this step is also kind of hit or miss for me! either i know from the beginning what i want my summary to be or i struggle up until the last second trying to come up with one. there isn’t really a right or wrong summary – except for one. my advice here is please, please don’t just put ‘i suck at summaries! just read it!’. people tend to gravitate toward fics if the author seems confident in their own abilities as opposed to someone quite literally pleading with them to read. other than that, there are several types of summaries that i see a lot of. personally i like to use a snippet from my fics in italics, so that people can get a feel of what my writing style is like beforehand. when i write drabbles though, i usually come up with a quick, occasionally witty tidbit of a summary to grab people’s attention. for example: 
a longer fic summary
Harry Styles takes his time coming out to greet them. Louis only knows what he’s seen on file and what he’s heard them talking about, but he fully lives up to the image he had inside of his head. 
He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin. 
“Harry Styles,” he drawls, extending a hand to Louis’ manager, “Pleased to meet ya’ll.” 
(from my fic baby blue)
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a shorter fic summary
there is little harry hates more than truth or dare. 
and louis. 
(from my fic like it’s a game)
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and sometimes people use both as well, like this one from @falsegoodnight​ ‘s fic, before we knew – 
“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?” 
Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles. It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it. He hates everything about his supposed soulmate. He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples. 
Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.
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and this link has some other ideas and tips for writing summaries that I found to be very helpful! 
posting a fic 
as far as tags and ratings go, THIS PART IS IMPORTANT! all of the steps are in one way or another, but this one is crucial that it’s done correctly. warnings and tags can absolutely make or break a fic. people tend to have very strong preferences when it comes to fics so i try to be as specific as possible without giving the entire story away in the tags. if you’re afraid of doing that, you can always put the full warnings in the note before the fic and tell people to check there before reading. i won’t list all of the possible triggers here but be sure to look those up if you are unfamiliar with some of the common ones. when it comes to tags, you’re always better safe than sorry! i like to tell people they’re free to message me and ask about something if they’re uncomfortable as well, so i can explain the trigger to them and why i tagged it that way and they can decide if they’d like to read based on a more informed basis. tagging correctly saves many people from being blindsided by something they didn’t want to see, and it also protects the author from some very angry messages about warnings.
archive of our own has an extensive support page with all of the info you could need about posting a work on their site including tags, ratings, warnings, co-authors, translations, HTML, and more. you can find it here.
as far as wattpad goes, i am definitely not as familiar with it. i have only a couple of my fics over there and a few translations that people have done for me, so my knowledge is very limited. this link seems to have some good resources for posting with them.
moodboards, graphics, covers 
i feel like the writing does most of the work itself, but a graphic can really help when it comes to the next part of the process, posting on social media. some people like to do moodboards, some people commission artists to draw for them, and some like to create their own graphics completely from scratch. like most aspects of fic, there isn’t really a right or wrong way to do this. i usually make moodboards for mine! i try to stick to an aesthetic or theme, and pick a cohesive amount of pictures to use (typically three, six, or nine so they line up nicely). the pictures i use are almost always from tumblr, pinterest, or weheartit. i put them together using an app and then put a blanket filter over all of it so that it all looks unified. if you used pinterest or weheartit to create concept boards for your idea in the beginning, now is a good time to use those photos and media as well! if you’re curious, the apps i use to create graphics, moodboards, and covers are as follows:
canva (mobile app & website) 
tons of templates to choose from as well as patterns and fonts! some things are locked unless you’re a member but most elements are free! easy to download and share and lots of options to customize and play around with. i strongly recommend the website on desktop or laptop as opposed to the mobile app so that the features are more easily accessible.
picsart (mobile app) 
when i need to make one quickly and i’m not near my laptop (or just need something simple) i use picsart to make a quick collage and put a filter over them. there are some limited text options as well but they are not as advanced as some of the others mentioned here.
photoshop express (mobile & desktop app) 
a step up from picsart, but slightly different elements. photoshop allows you to control a lot more once you know how to use it. there are some nice moodboard layouts here, as well as text and fonts, borders, and color controls. my favorite tool on here is the style transfer option under ‘effects’. a very quick and easy way to make your pictures look very cohesive!
vsco (mobile app) 
perfect for adding filters and things like vignette, grain, and fade. it also has some color controls to customize those. this is typically the last step before i post. and you can save custom presets that you like to use again!
and there are many others as well – almost all photo editing apps and software have a function that will allow you to make a collage or add text to a graphic! i know wattpad also requires a cover for their stories and I believe they have an app for that too!
here are some lovely graphics that have been made for my fics by @lovelylou​, @behisoneandonly​, @tomlinvelvet-ao3​​ and @brickredtoe​  as some examples :) 
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and one that I've made as well: 
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social media 
once i have a moodboard or graphic, i post the link to my fic on twitter and tumblr. in these posts i always make sure to include the title, the word count, and the summary. i try to make it as visually appealing as possibly by organizing the post accordingly and using fonts occasionally to catch people’s eye. this is the app i use for those on mobile! 
i think about the sizing as well – twitter has set dimensions for its photos and is known for displaying the photos awkwardly. tumblr on the other hand will let you upload up to ten photos of any size, and will display them fully without any cropping. according to this link a single photo on twitter should be 16:9. this page also has some good tips. and as far as i can tell if you’re using two or four photos, i would stick to the square images as that is what’s worked for me personally. i believe canva also has a template for a twitter post too.
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write for yourself 
i think everyone knows this on some level but i tend to need to be reminded pretty frequently. if you’re heavily involved in social media and fic discourse, it can be very easy to get attached to what you know people want to see. writing should be a balance though, and you should always write for yourself before anyone else. we’re all free to write whatever we want and, even if it’s difficult, you shouldn’t ever let someone make you feel guilty for doing so. writing is an escape and a safe space but it can very quickly become something that causes stress and anxiety if you aren’t doing it for the right reasons.
don’t stress 
easier said than done, I know, but like I mentioned earlier, writing should be fun. a lot of people here don’t do it as their job and no one gets paid to write fics. these are projects that authors take on on their own time even while they work and handle everything else in their lives and those things should come first and foremost, as well as your mental health. this circles back into my earlier point – don’t let people make you feel guilty about anything like not finishing a fic on time or not writing exactly how they wanted it. authors are real people with real lives too and if things get to be too heavy or too stressful, they’re entitled to a break or to leave if that’s what’s best for them.
don’t be afraid to ask for help / validation 
there are tons of lovely writers in this community and others that would be more than happy to answer questions and give advice. if you’re struggling with something, there’s always somewhere to go to get help! 
however, the concept of validation is a bit trickier than the others. there’s a fine line ;) between asking for validation for a little boost, or relying completely on it. posting snippets and sneak peeks is a great way to get people excited about your work and to get yourself motivated if you’re feeling down, but i would suggest not to post one with the sole purpose of fishing for compliments. if you do, it can be very disheartening if you don’t receive any or the ones that you were looking to hear. in my opinion you need to be at least somewhat confident in your own abilities before you can expect other people to be. posting a snippet is more beneficial for when you’ve got a mental block or are stuck in a scene as opposed to just searching for validation for the sake of getting it.
cliche vs. copying 
there’s also two sides to this argument! you shouldn’t be afraid to write what you want, even if it seems like it’s a common trope or cliche topic. everybody writes in different styles and has different ideas and therefore may provide an entirely different view on what’s been poised as a ‘common’ theme. i think i could read a thousand of the ‘there was only one bed’ trope or the college au’s or the other popular plotlines. they’re popular for a reason and you shouldn’t be afraid to explore your own take on it! no one author ‘owns’ a specific trope. 
BUT there is a clear difference in doing your own take on something versus just copying what someone else has written exactly. the lines can get blurry here but it’s obvious to readers when something has been repeated word for word from another fic or when one too many elements are the same. to be on the safe side, always check to make sure that the specifics of your idea haven’t been done exactly before. 
resources 
+ masterpost of some resources 
+ how to keep readers engaged 
+ helpful tips 
+ 100 words for facial expressions 
+ how to write good villains 
+ good advice  
+ synonyms for commonly used words 
+ using metaphors and references 
+ more helpful tips 
+ descriptions
+ synonyms for ‘beautiful’ 
+ tips for dialogue 
+ writing enemies to lovers 
+ other helpful tips 
+ writing friends to lovers 
+ dystopian writing 
+ writing a realistic argument 
+ ways to cut word count 
+ how to write smut 01 * tw for body descriptions etc.  
+ how to write smut 02 
+ SUPER helpful smut vocab
+ how to write flirting 
+ how to write about grief 
+ even more helpful tips
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bjy-on-ao3 · 4 years ago
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Fic Friday: Helping Hand
(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)
This story feels like fan content-ception to me, as it spawned from some NSFW art I made featuring Izaya, which was made from doodles to start with. Still scheming, but a lot more simple than my other fics with Izaya. Leaving this one a little open-ended in case I came back to it for Izaya returning the favor as he suggested. Not currently decided for sure though. I recently got my first request for Izaya and am brewing that, though it could be some time before I can get something down. It should be pretty fun though and spicier than this. (Note: Apologies for no cut - I am not sure how I add a cut with the new editor :/) Summary Invited over to Izaya’s apartment, Reader arrives too early and interrupts the informant’s alone time. And unfortunately (or fortunately), Izaya has no qualms about asking for a little help. Tags/Warnings Blowjobs, Come Swallowing, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut
Helping Hand (F! Reader/Izaya Orihara)
Arriving at the non-descript door in the hall of the impressive-looking apartment building, you hesitated. A few quick glances confirmed the numbers by the door matched up with the information listed in your phone’s address book. A few times before you had been to the apartment, but you hadn’t memorized everything about the address. All things considered, it was surprising you weren’t late this time, as you had been each time in the past. Maybe you were improving a little.
You raised a fist and drummed it against the door, starting light and polite. Nothing. You rapped harder. Surely that was loud enough to be heard? Your assumption was disproved when all that met you was silence, leaving you alone still in the hallway. You frowned in frustration and impatience. You knocked a third time, waiting a minute, wondering if he was preoccupied or just enjoying making you wait. When all remained quiet again, your frown deepened.
You looked back down at your phone, silently navigating to the texting feature and typing you a message irritably.
(X:XX PM): I’m here. I knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear it.
You didn’t need to wait more than fifteen seconds before your phone buzzed in reply. Two words met your gaze, followed after a moment by a second slightly longer message.
Izaya (X:XX PM): You’re early.
Izaya (X:XX PM): I’m a little busy right now.
You paused, your scowl becoming confusion, and you scrolled back up through the conversation. The log confirmed the time you had been told and the one in the corner of your phone matched. ‘ Early? Right. Don’t tell me Izaya of all people forgot.’
(X:XX PM): I checked and either I’m on time or you screwed up and sent me the wrong time.
Arguing with him wouldn’t do you any good one way or another; Izaya wasn’t one to genuinely apologize for any inconveniences he caused others. But correcting him made you feel a little better and somewhat less cross at least.
Izaya (X:XX PM): Oh, did I?
Izaya (X:XX PM): Well, if you don’t like waiting, you can just come in. Door’s unlocked.
Your face twisted again, now into a skeptical surprise. Izaya just left his door unlocked? Izaya Orihara, the man who had probably as many enemies as he had clients, decided it was smart to let whoever wanted to waltz right in. Yeah, that made sense. You wondered if he enjoyed the excitement of the potential danger.
(X:XX PM): Hardly seems like a good idea for YOU to leave your door unlocked, but whatever.
With a dismissive shrug, you tucked your phone into your pocket and reached for the knob. Pushing it open, you stepped inside quickly and closed it gently behind you. You took a step away before pausing, turning back and locking the door as an afterthought. Izaya could endanger himself all he wanted, but you would rather there be at least some kind of barrier between whatever messy trouble came looking for him.
Walking past the foyer, you expected to see him perched on his chair, clacking noisily away at his keyboard, fixed on the screens of his computers and cellphones or something of the sort. The chair was empty though, turned away from the screens. You scanned the area for the ever-frustrating information broker. Quickly, you noticed him tucked away in the corner of the dark-colored leather section, his back facing you. His head rested against the couch, one long arm lying curled over its back. For someone supposedly busy, Izaya looked pretty relaxed from where you were standing.
“You don’t look real busy to me,” you accused once you spotted him.
Izaya shifted, tilting his head further back to glance over his outstretched arm at you. “Oh, I am, I assure you.” He looked and sounded as collected as ever, as if nothing could or should trouble him. Except… was it just you, or did his face seem a bit red? “But I’ll be just a few minutes. Feel free to wait for me there,” Izaya suggested. There was something off as well about the quality of his voice you couldn’t place.
“Uh huh,” you said, unsure if you felt unsettled or just irritated still. Maybe a little of both.
He had told you to wait, yet your curiosity nagged at you viciously, demanding to see what exactly preoccupied him. Or maybe it was indignation needing to see what was so pressing he couldn’t remember the time he had told you. You took a few steps, intending to round the recessed floor area and the sectional to see what he was doing.
“You really should wait over there,” he warned you casually, the strange tone of his voice sounding stronger, but still indecipherable.
You scoffed, ignoring the warning and carrying on. When you swept around the corner of the area though, what you saw stopped you dead in your tracks, poised on the lip of the steps down. At first the strangled squeak that burst from your mouth didn’t quite register, nor did the immediate hot flush that fell across your face.
Izaya looked very comfortable where he sat, leaning back into the plush cushions. From the top-down, at first he looked perfectly normal, if a little flushed, one of his usual ‘v’-neck shirts tantalizing displaying a bit of his delicate-looking collarbones. Though the picture grew more suspect the further you went. The hem of his shirt was lifted, askew and higher on one side than the other, exposing his lean torso. That wasn’t nearly so scandalous though, as even further down.
He sat nude from the waist down, his pants and belt pooled around his ankles. His cock stood prominently between his splayed legs, a flushed tone to match the rosy tint in cheeks and leaking pre-cum. As if walking on Izaya with his pants literally down wasn’t mortifying enough, one hand was wrapped leisurely around his cock. Obviously he had been in the process of jerking off, and still was, having not bothered to stop even once you had caught him in the act.
What you were looking at hit you all at once, and a stream of half-finished sentences exploded out. “I’I’m sorry, I-- But what are you--? Why would let me come in if that’s what you’re busy doing?! You began in an apologetic voice, though your apology quickly turned to indignation at the fact Izaya’d had plenty of time to put himself away before you came in. Before he invited you, for example, and then before he greeted you.
“Well, I did warn you.” Izaya’s speech held no hint of apology. The shameless, steady stroke of his hand up and down confirmed he was not bothered whatsoever. “Besides, you’re the one who wanted to show up early and be nosy, darling.”
At last you recognized the tone in his voice you hadn’t been able to place before. Something husky and thick, a silky accent to his already smooth voice. You felt stupid not being able to put two-and-two together from his voice and face.
“I’m not early! I-it’s not my fault you told me the wrong time,” you tried to hide the shakiness in your voice with anger, though you knew Izaya was a master at seeing through masks.
You wanted to turn, to look away, but you found yours glued to the sight of him, stunned like a deer in headlights. Maybe it was his audacity that was truly so stunning. I’m just gonna go and come back later,” you ground out through teeth after you tore your eyes away from the enticingly lewd scene.
“Oh? But like I said, I’ll only be a little bit.” You nearly choked again from Izaya’s boldness. He really expected you to just wait around while he jacked off like it was nothing? For someone who claimed to love humans and all their emotions and behaviors so much, you really wondered how much he really understood them sometimes. “You know, if you wanted to lend a hand, it might be even sooner.”
You made another embarrassing noise, your eyes snapping back around and fixing on his own. The expression in his sharp brown eyes told you he wasn’t just you or making some inappropriate joke, not completely. Izaya was dead serious suggesting you ‘lend him a hand’ with his current ‘business’. You should have been mad. You should have been uncomfortable. You should have walked away then. But something else was creeping up and up, suppressing what you should have done, leaving behind the sense that you didn’t quite hate the idea.
You weren’t ready to give in completely, though, not yet. “Was that your plan when you invited me over?” You tried to deflect once more, but your angry speech was half-hearted.
He gave a small shrug, still languorously pumping his hand up and down, smearing a new bead of pre-cum along the head of his dick. You licked your lips, and you weren’t sure whether it was from nerves or hunger. “Who knows? Maybe, maybe not.” Of course Izaya would give you a nonsense answered that told you nothing.
“Can you just put your pants on, please?” You tried weakly, a last ditch effort to squish down the hot feeling suffusing you and to call his bluff. But Izaya wouldn’t be moved.
“Weren’t you leaving though?” He questioned calmly. “So why should I? Then I can’t take care of this.” You groaned mentally at his ‘logic’ that amounted to his typical games. “So, what’s stopping you?”
You didn’t speak, listening only to the slick sound of Izaya stroking himself, as if trying to come up with an appropriate excuse. But there was none. You were still there because you wanted to be. You sputtered some nonsense at first, before sighing in defeat.
“I...I just… fine,” you mumbled, unable to meet his cutting gaze when you agreed.
He didn’t seem bothered or surprised by your admission, and when you looked back up, he was smirking widely, as if he had expected you to crumble and play right into his hands. “Well, what are you waiting for then?”
You nearly scowled at the impatience of the question, but shook your head. You approached quickly, stopping once you stood in front of him. You licked your lips again and swallowed thickly, kneeling between his legs. Up close and personal with his cock, it you for real the favor you had submitted yourself to. It made your stomach twist in a way that was pleasantly hot, but with a nervous flutter. But even if he would probably let you, there was no back down now. You had dug your hole and you intended to stay in it.
Feeling Izaya’s eyes burning down onto you, you lifted a hand tentatively, more intimidated than you would have admitted. You nearly jumped when the hand he had been pleasuring himself with seized yours. Your face was on fire as he guided your hand over his shaft, helping you wrap it around the heated skin. He made a small sound in the back of his throat at the contact, his palm lingering over your hand. Gingerly, you shifted your hand up and down, mimicking him, the skin hot and velvety under your fingers.
“There, just like that,” Izaya cooed, his hips rocking up into your touch. His hand left yours to bury itself in the cushion beside him.
You chanced a subtle glance up, past his exposed torso and up his chest. His head lolled back against the sofa back, and his chest rose and fell deeply in more noticeable, pleasured breaths as you stroked. He seemed more than willing to sit back and fully indulge in your touch, apparently a far more exhilarating experience than his own.
“What a good girl,” he praised as your grip tightened you pumped his cock more surely, enjoying the noises that vibrated up his chest. They were low and smooth, containing all the richness of his speaking voice, yet none of the frustrating teasing or condescension. “Mmph, a little hard, don’t be shy,” he coaxed, giving a particularly eager buck of his hips, a new drop of pre-cum beading on the head of his dick.
You did as instructed, and the sound of his breathing deepened more, the small, pleasant sounds morphing into longer, bawdy groans. “How’s that?” you prompted, the confidence from watching him come slowly undone steadying your voice, the sheer arousal in it surprising you.
“Mm, good, keep going.”
You stuck to the steady rhythm you had set, your tongue wetting suddenly dry lips again as you alternated between watching Izaya’s blissful form above you and his throbbing cock in front of you. You moved your idle hand up, cradling his balls in your palm and rubbing gently, rewarded with even more erotic noises. You weren’t sure whether you were more turned on by the eroticism of the sounds themselves, or the fact you were hardly ever heard Izaya sound so unrestrained.
Your gaze stopped, lingering on his cock, and you decided if you were going to help out, you may as well have a little more fun, as well as satisfy the hunger building in you. You bent forward, your breath fanning over the head hotly, and you barely caught a shiver roll through Izaya. You leaned closer, opening your mouth and licking coyly at the flushed head, the bitter taste of pre-cum flooding your senses.
“ Oh .” The word was surprised, excited almost, made even more so by the breathiness that carried it. “I didn’t even have to ask you to do that.” Your faced burned with embarrassment you fought to ignore, letting your lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue along the underside. “More eager than you let on, I see. But I’m not complaining.”
Izaya relaxed more limply against the cushions, save for the rhythmic roll of his hips meeting the hot, wet touch of your mouth. You sank down on his cock more, slowly, trying to account for the motion of his hips to not choke yourself on his length. Fortunately, though it was steady, his pace was languid, letting you adjust easily. You took as much as you could without inciting your gag reflex, shifting between dancing your tongue along his skin or pressing flat against the underside or teasing the head where it connected to his shaft.
Above you, Izaya’s dulcet chorus of groans and mumbled words escalated and his fingers met the top of your head. They curled loosely, massaging methodically, neither forcing you down or adjust to a new pace.
“Hmm, and they say I’ve got a talented tongue,” Izaya hummed huskily and you couldn’t stifle a low moan in answer, the sound shooting through Izaya and making his hips stutter. “Sure seems like you know to use yours though,” he praised again, and you could make out the teasing tone you were so used to among his lusty, strained voice.
Izaya fell silent for a time, or at least he fell wordless, panting and groaning his pleasure, the sounds accentuated by the wet noises you made while you sucked him off. But Izaya’s was a mouth that couldn’t stand staying silent for long. “You can take a little more, can’t you?” He asked insistently, his fingers tightening their loose hold. He thrust his hips more roughly into your mouth as you sank down again, as if punctuating his question.
Tears stung at your eyes for an instant as the tip of his dick touched your throat and you inhaled deeply to relax it. You took in even more of his cock, noticing the roll of his hips slow, as if accommodating you to take his length more easily. When you pulled back, his hand only let you go so far, effectively keeping you from pulling away. You indulged him, satisfied with the even more ragged breaths replacing his words and more of the salty fluid leaking from him.
Your jaw was beginning to ache, but you ached elsewhere as well, and it urged you to continue. With your mouth wrapped around him so intimately, you could tell Izaya was getting very close to cumming, from the increasing cant of his hips to the harsh pitch of his breath to the way his cock twitched, even more hard.
“Mm, that’s it. Almost there.” Izaya confirmed your suspicions, the lustiness of his tone adding to the urgency. “If you don’t want a mouthful, you might want to stop,” he warned you, surprisingly considerate in the moment.
Your eyes flickered up, but you didn’t stop, trying to hum your acknowledgement around a mouthful of his dick, working him even more eagerly.
“Oh, shit, you’re more obscene than I thought. If that’s how you want it,” His excitement pierced his arousal again, as if he hadn’t expected you to be so wrapped up in servicing him.
Thrusting into your mouth more desperately, his hips finally stuttered as he finished, filling your mouth with hot ropes of thick that you swallowed as soon as the bitter taste swept over your tongue. Several especially long, feral moans drifted from Izaya’s lips as you drank him down, until at last he was spent and there was nothing left for you to swallow. You drew away, wiping a smear of drool and some stray cum from your mouth with the back of your hand and resting back on your knees.
“There, that’s taken care of,” you said, your attempt to sound level and collected ruined by your own arousal making your voice overly breathy. “Now did you actually have a reason for inviting me over?”
Izaya laughed breathlessly, as if amused by your change of pace, lying boneless against the sectional. “Of course, my dear,” he answered when his laughter died, tipping his head forward to look at you. “I wouldn’t lie to your like that. Though, if you’d like, I can return the favor. It sounds like you need it.”
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studentville-struggles · 5 years ago
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A Double Life
Chapter 5!!
A self-indulgent Daniel Ricciardo fic.
Summary: Returning to old passions results in the start of chaos and living a double life. We say we hate chaos, but the thrill is unlike anything else.
Words: 1,941
Masterlist // Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4
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F1 was no joke.  
PhD’s were no joke.
You were exhausted. Exhausted didn’t even begin to cover how you felt. Were you dying? Who even knew at this point.  
One monday your legs finally gave out as you were walking into university, collapsing from the exhaustion you were fighting. Thankfully you had just made it into your building, the porters quick to call a medic. You actually ended up having to take a couple of days off of lab work and go home and just spend some time sleeping and spending time with your parents. Your supervisors were so worried for your health and the stress you had been putting yourself under they pretty much banned you from the lab for a week.  
You still did the workouts you needed to and prepped for races from home. You just did everything on more than five hours sleep. The luxury. It was so damn needed.
Speaking on the phone to Lando one night, the two of you becoming closer friends since being team mates and him checking in more frequently since finding out about you collapsing, you had been joking about how nice sleep was. 
“I used to think that being ordinary was boring. Now I’d do anything for a 10 hour nap and a chippy.”
Your little exhaustion moment had scared you a little bit. You’d always managed to do everything. You could have two intense lives and work it. You had felt that for the last three years you mastered juggling a double life. Was it finally coming to crumble around you? Was this it, was the dream over?  
You wouldn’t allow it. You couldn’t. Youd fought so hard for this, to have your cake and eat it. It was never meant to be easy and you knew that, this was just one more thing to overcome. Once you had your PhD you would be able to live any life you wanted. You might even be able to sleep seven hours a night on the regular.  
You would make this double life work for a little longer, you had to.
Having re-evaluated routines and switching things up so that you could make the most of both lives whilst still being healthy, you were feeling confident, comfortable and it was growing with each race that passed. Sure, not all of the results were what you dreamed off; after all you were yet to tip Lewis off his pedestal, but you were getting there. Getting the car to do your bidding was the first half of the challenge. Now you just needed to do that, but better than every one else on the track.
The other thing to come out of your health scare; especially after some of the drivers have commented on your less deathly appearance was an interesting change in your friendship with a certain Australian.  
Sure, you had the big change from thinking he was rude to being caught smiling at his texts, to hanging out in Australia at the start of the season. That you had kind of seen coming; but this? This was unexpected, and you weren’t quite sure what to make of it currently.
After finding out about your little incident, Daniels’ entire energy changed. He was visibly concerned about you, whether you were better now, how you were doing getting everything under control for good. His reaction to discovering the in-depth extremeness of your routine having binged watched your show – he claimed it was a curious interest to occupy his flight but you knew it was to be nosey and you didn’t mind that – was even stranger He had effectively cornered you at the paddock in China with a written out list and spluttering of expletives with the general message of “what the fuck, no wonder you're exhausted.’.  
The frequency at which you two texted and chatted was steadily rising as your friendship bloomed but after his discovery of ‘the incident’, it had sky rocketed. Both in general conversation, but also in his concern for you overdoing things. He’s started to make a point, like Lewis often does, to ensure you take a bit of time for you and to relax; so movie and game nights are now a little thing you get when you meet up for a face to face catch up.
The vibes between the two of you were shifting ever so slightly and you weren’t entirely sure where there were setting themselves.
---
You were very lucky in that your family would often come to support you, especially your mum and dad. Albeit your mum couldn’t watch half of the races due to her fear that her little girl was going to be hurt, but she was there every chance she had.  
As the season progressed and you were getting some races closer to home, you felt it was about time to invite the main group of people who were yet to see this side of you. Given the intense patience and grace they had given to you, supporting you though everything and allowing your camera crew all access; it was time to invite your boss. Well your other boss. Your supervisor.
Getting back into the swing of things at work in the lab after the Spanish Grand Prix, you felt it was finally time to give back to your lab family.
“I’d like to take you to work next week, and maybe a few others once I check numbers.” Your supervisor knew what ‘work’ meant for you but with more and more people questioning your regular three day weeks, you were starting to feel like letting your two worlds collide a little more.  
“Where is work next week? Monaco?”  
“Yup. I’ll give my media team a ring and see how many we can take including hotels and go from there”  
“Including?!”  
“Full VIP, would be rude of me not to.”  
A short phone call later, with some rough numbers figured out, you had five full VIP passes at your disposal. Given you rarely have guests at Grand Prix’ they allowed a few extra tickets this time. As one would imagine with a free weekend in Monaco, the academic staff in your research group snapped up those tickets in no time. Of course, with the amount of time spent in your offices and labs, you were safely assuming three of the five had no idea what your job was, though were very curious as to how and why it was taking you to Monaco.  
Academic life was no joke. Everyone was busy, everyone had very little free time. Watching sports was only done by super fans really. There weren’t any motorsport super fans in your office and somehow both your show and driving career had still remained unquestioned. How that was true with the camera crew still following you around, you had no idea.  
You had sent out a rough, and very vague itinerary, reminding them to be ready to leave work at 6 pm on Wednesday, heading straight to the airport. You had also sent strict dress code instructions- the smarter end of smart casual, knowing that they would likely, if not definitely, be appearing on camera.  
With some of your team meeting you at the airport, ready to get your race weekend media started, the confusion of your university colleagues was growing. It peaked as they had you film a short clip to start the weekends media off, it was only a short Instagram story, post hair touch up, to say hi to fans.  
“Hey guys, just me taking over the Instagram stories! We’ve just arrived at the airport to head over to Monaco! Can’t wait to see you guys this weekend and I’ve even brought a few colleagues from the university so you’ll be seeing my two worlds collide as well! See you soon!” Waving at the camera, you cut the video. With all thumbs up from your team, you uploaded it to your team Instagram, views piling in almost immediately.  
“Rachel what the hell do you do?!”
“Oh you’ll see soon enough, I don’t want to ruin the surprise now.” You teased, surprisingly enjoying the suspense.  
Walking up to the private jet having gone through security with ease, the shock was only increasing, though you everyone was feeling very excited for the flight now they saw the plane. Things were fairly calm after this, the journey quick, smooth and you avoided giving too much away.  
Arriving at the hotel you sent everyone off to their rooms, giving timings for meeting the next morning. You would be leaving before them to start greeting the media and doing some press conferences before your track walks, and so had arranged for a few cars to be sent for transferring the rest over to the main hub. Once they were all happy with the plans, not that you’d given many details, merely timings, you could head to your room where Daniel had snuck over waiting to reunite.  
He had many complaints about spending the evening having your catch up in a hotel when he had a perfectly good home a few minutes away. At some point during the evening, after the food had been demolished, the words said and a crappy Netflix original on the tv, the two of you had fallen asleep. When you woke a couple of hours later, you were awkwardly hunched on the sofa still, somehow having entangled yourself with Daniels body.  
Realising that it was far too late to send Daniel home, you both needed sleep if you were to survive the media day, and you couldn’t send him on his way in the small hours of the morning. Trying not to wake him too harshly, you start untangling yourself from the mess of legs. With Daniel starting to stir, you grab his hand, wordlessly pulling him from the sofa, over to the hotel bed.  
Still in the silence the middle of the night brings, Daniel shed the majority of his clothing, slipping under the covers in only his underwear, with you following soon after as you quickly change into your sleepwear.  
For something so foreign in your friendship, the ease and comfort at which you snuggled together, falling asleep again under the covers, was almost unnerving. Almost. In your sleepy state, you couldn’t recognise that, only time would reveal that.  
--
Having snuck off to begin your media day trackside, you were eager to see your lab colleague's reaction to where they were. It was as you were heading back into McLarens hospitality that you, as well as the whole group, could see the full magnitude of this job and how it differed to the Rachel they were used to seeing in the office.  
“You’re a driver?”  Shock? Disbelief? You couldn’t quite tell but the reaction was  
“Yes”
“What the fuck? But you’re in the lab like 10 hours a day”
“Now you know why I don’t have time to get things done otherwise in my three-day weeks.”
Once the shock wore off, the excitement and initial questions had settled, you set the group up with timings for the day and let them wander round the paddock freely as you headed back to your meetings, promising to see them during the lunch break.  
Having your worlds united felt good. It felt as though some of the pressure you hadn’t realised was there from keeping them separate, was melting away.  Although the feeling that was beginning to bubble away every time you bumped into Daniel was very close to being a distraction.
You needed to drive; just get in the car and block everything else out. 
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trashcanreddiefan · 5 years ago
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The 2nd Annual Losers' Club Christmakkah Celebration
Summary: The Losers gather for their second annual Christmakkah celebration, and there is a special gift under the tree with Richie’s name on it.
Word Count: 2800-ish
Warnings: None whatsoever. This is pure fluff.
Author’s Note: Post-Chapter 2. All of the Losers are alive in this fic, including Stan, because canon can suck it. 2nd in a (at least) 3-part series where the Losers take turns hosting Christmakkah. Part 1 here.
CROSS-POSTED AT AO3.
“I checked in for our flight to Atlanta,” Richie said as he walked into the kitchen where his boyfriend, Eddie, was currently leaning down and peeking in on something that was baking in their oven. He wrapped his arms around Eddie. “Mmm. Something smells delicious.”
“I’m making a lasagna,” Eddie replied, straightening up and turning to greet Richie.
Richie planted a kiss on the top of his head before nuzzling his neck. “I meant you, babe.” He gently grazed Eddie’s pulse point with his teeth before soothing the spot with his tongue. “Taste even better.”
Eddie shivered, then leaned back with a smile. He tilted his head up for a proper kiss. “Hi.”
“Mmm. Hey yourself. How was your thesis presentation?”
“Good, really good. Dr. Cubillas seemed really happy with my research and asked me if I’d be interested in a TA position once I start the Master’s program next semester.”
Richie grinned. “Eds, that’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you, babe.”
“Thanks, Rich. I know my savings won’t last forever, so I’m glad I was able to get this 2nd Bachelor’s so quickly and it’d be good if I could make some extra money working for the university while pursuing my Master’s. Plus then I wouldn’t be up to my eyeballs in student loan debt after I graduate since my tuition would be covered.”
“Eds, I told you, if you need money I’ll give it to you, however much you need. I’d have zero problem with being your sugar daddy.”
Before Eddie could even protest, he added, “but I know how much your financial independence means to you, so just know the offer stands. I love you and I’m willing to support you in whatever way you need, be it financial, emotional, physical…” he trailed off as his hands slid down to palm Eddie’s ass, giving both cheeks a hearty squeeze.
Eddie shook his head fondly. “I love you too, Richie. And thank you.” They stood there in silence for a bit, just enjoying being in each other’s arms.
Richie could hardly believe that this was his life. Less than a year ago he had thought that he would be destined to be in lifelong (not counting the 27-year-long asshole clown-induced amnesia) unrequited love with his married, straight childhood best friend. But during the Losers’ first Christmakkah celebration, Eddie had not only announced to the Losers that he had divorced his wife and quit his job, but he had also told Richie privately that he was moving to Los Angeles to go to nursing school, and – the best news of all –  that he was in love with Richie.
So now, a year later, Richie stood in his kitchen with the love of his life in his arms, getting ready to fly out to Stan’s house for their 2nd annual Losers’ Christmakkah Celebration.
Finally, Eddie reluctantly extracted himself from Richie’s embrace. “I need to get the lasagna out.”
“Ok, babe. I’m gonna go shower before dinner.” Richie gave Eddie one last kiss before heading to their bedroom.
He had just stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself when Eddie called out, “Hey, Rich?”
“Yeah?” Richie replied, walking into their bedroom from the connecting bathroom.
Eddie stood by their bed. “The teddy bear you ordered for Olivia just came in.”
Olivia was Stan and Patty’s 3-month-old daughter and the first of a new generation of Losers. She had Stan’s curly hair and Patty’s nose, and already had her uncles and aunt wrapped around her finger.
“Ok great, thanks.” Richie walked over to Eddie and wrapped his arms around him.
“I already got it in a bag and put it in the suitcase with the rest of Liv’s gifts.”
“Ok so that should be it, right? I have Bill’s gift in my suitcase and you said you had Mike’s gift shipped directly to Stan’s, right?”
This year, instead of deciding not to exchange gifts (since last year they tried that and everyone wound up bringing presents regardless) the Losers had decided to do a “holiday gift exchange” where each Loser was randomly assigned one of the others’ names and bought that person a gift.
Richie had been assigned Bill, and in true Richie fashion had bought him a copy of Save the Cat Writes a Novel as a gag gift. (He had also bought him a first edition copy of Dracula as his actual gift; Richie was a bit of a prankster, but he wasn’t a complete asshole.)
Eddie glanced over at his suitcase. “Yeah, just so it’s less that we have to carry. You’re all packed then?”
Richie quirked an eyebrow and bit back a grin. “Well no, that’s what I have you for.”
“Wait a minute, you mean our flight leaves in less than 15 hours and you’re not packed yet?” Eddie’s voice went up in pitch with each word.
Richie couldn’t keep a straight face. “Eds, babe, I’m kidding, calm down. I packed a couple of days ago according to the list you gave me. Even folded my shirts and everything.”
“That was so not funny.”  Eddie glowered at him. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Mmm, true,” Richie said sincerely, pulling Eddie even closer and tucking his head into Eddie’s neck. “I’m the luckiest motherfucker alive.”
He could feel the residual tension leave Eddie’s body. “Now, I take it that dinner’s ready, and not only that but we have an early flight to catch, so let’s eat and get ready for bed.”
____________________________________________________________
“…This is your captain speaking. I’d like to personally welcome you to Atlanta, Georgia.The time is 2:40 pm and the temperature is 61 degrees. On behalf of all of us, thank you for flying Delta.”
Richie pulled out his phone and shot off a text to Stan as soon as he and Eddie deplaned. Eds and I just landed. On our way as soon as we get our luggage.
Stan the Man: Ben & Bev and Mike are already here and I think Bill & Audra’s flight should be arriving in about an hour and a half.
Stan the Man: Eddie has our address. See you guys soon.
Richie put his phone away as he & Eddie made their way to baggage claim to collect their luggage, and soon they were on their way to Stan and Patty’s house.
Upon arriving they hauled their suitcases up Stan’s porch steps and rang the doorbell.
Stan answered the door. “Hey, guys. So glad you could make it.”
“Staniel! How’s it going?” Richie gave Stan a quick hug before turning to Patty, who was holding Olivia. “Patty, looking beautiful, as always. And how’s my favorite niece?” he cooed at Olivia.
“Hey, I take offense to that,” Beverly said jokingly as she entered the room, rubbing her growing stomach. “As I’m sure do Bill and Audra.”
Richie gave her a peck on the cheek. “Well, considering both you and Audra are having boys, Liv will continue to be my favorite niece. But don’t worry, whoever gets named after me will get the title of favorite nephew.”
“Well too bad for you then, huh?” Bev laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. Everyone knows that Uncle Richie will spoil Little Benson and Wilson just as much as I spoil Olivia.”
“I’m sure you will,” Eddie said coming up from behind him and giving Beverly a hug and a peck on the cheek as well. “Bev, how have you been feeling?”
“Just fine,” Beverly answered. “Baby’s doing great.”
“So where’s that gorgeous husband of yours?” Richie asked.
Beverly grinned. “You know how he & Mike are when they get together. They’re looking at pictures from Mike’s trip to New Orleans last month. Appreciating the architecture.”
Richie snorted. “Nerds.”
“Let me show you guys to your room,” Stan said. “I know you both probably want to take a nap and a shower before the festivities tonight.”
“I don’t know about you guys, but a nap does sound wonderful,” Beverly added. “I’m still a bit jet-lagged.”
Stan led them to one of the spare bedrooms with its own private bathroom. “We’re planning on dinner at six, so you guys can come down at any time.”
“Oh, hey, what are we doing with the gifts?” Richie asked. “We have some for Olivia and I have my exchange gift.”
“I think we’re putting them by the Christmakkah tree,” Stan said. “Thanks for the menorah ornaments, by the way.”
Richie grinned. “I couldn’t pass them up.”
Eddie grabbed the suitcase with the gifts before Richie could get to it. “Here, Rich, why don’t you go ahead and rest and I’ll go put the gifts under the tree? I’ll be right back.”
Before Richie could answer Eddie was carefully wheeling the suitcase back downstairs.
Richie shook his head fondly. That’s my Eddie.  
As much as Eddie had changed over the past 27 years, at his core he was still Eddie.  He was still the same neurotic, foul-mouthed, caring little shit that Richie had fallen in love with all those years ago.
I want to spend the rest of my life with him.
The thought shouldn’t have surprised Richie – after all, he had had the same thought once before when they were teenagers – but now, now, he could; that is, if Eddie would have him. Does Eddie even want to get married again?
Although they were 100% committed to each other, marriage wasn’t exactly something they had talked about.
Still, Richie let his mind wander, thinking about going out and buying a ring, planning the perfect proposal (maybe the day Eddie got his Master’s degree? Richie wasn’t sure he could wait any longer than that), sliding the ring onto Eddie’s finger…
He was still thinking when Eddie came back into the room. “Okay, Olivia’s gifts are all set out, and we really should’ve gotten something for Ben & Bev and Bill & Audra’s kids, maybe each like a onesie or something.”
He walked over to Richie and lay down next to him on the bed, noticing the obviously sappy look on Richie’s face. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Marry me, Richie thought, but instead said, “God, I love you.”
Eddie’s face instantly softened. “I love you too.”
“I’m so proud of you, you know that?” Richie continued. “I know the past year hasn’t been easy but you’ve kicked ass and managed to get your nursing degree in 3 semesters–”
Eddie snorted. “Yeah, only because all the anatomy and health classes I took the first time I was in college managed to transfer once I tested out of them, not to mention the fact that I took the max number of hours each semester and also took summer classes while you were on tour instead of going with you.”
“And not only that, but you received your degree with a 4.0 and was offered a TA position when you start the graduate program next semester.” Richie scooted closer and rolled his hips into Eddie’s. “Mmm, just thinking about playing nurse with my brilliant boyfriend is getting me all hot. Can’t wait to call you ‘Nurse Kaspbrak’ in bed.”
Eddie’s face contorted in an adorable combination of rage and laughter. “You had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”
Richie laughed. “No but really, I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds and I’m honored to be along for the ride.”
“Thank you, Rich. I’m glad you’re part of it too.” Eddie gave him a peck on the tip of his nose. “Now rest, we’ve got an exciting night ahead.”
__________________________________________________________
After a few hours’ nap Richie woke up to an empty bed but could hear the shower running.
He contemplated drifting back off to sleep when he heard the shower shut off and the bathroom door open. “Rich? You awake? It’s 5:15.”
Richie stretched and ran a hand through his messy hair, grabbing for his glasses as he sat up. “Yeah, babe, I’m up.”
Eddie gave him a quick kiss. “I’m gonna get dressed and head downstairs to see if Stan and Patty need help with anything while you’re in the shower. Meet you down there?”
Richie nodded, then slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom, where he took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and got dressed in the outfit Eddie had laid out on the bed for him – a soft lime green cashmere sweater and a pair of jeans – and headed down the stairs, where he rounded the corner to see all the Losers together.
He greeted Ben and Mike, then Bill and Audra, placing a gentle hand on Audra’s stomach when she asked him if he wanted to feel the baby kick.
He turned when he heard the click of a camera and looked up to see Eddie putting his phone away. “Blackmail photos?” he said jokingly. “Come on, Eds, all you have to do is ask in order to get me in more compromising positions.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Gotta document you being cute since it happens so rarely.”
After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room for their gift exchange. Richie took a sleeping Olivia while Stan and Patty opened her gifts.
The Losers gifted her with various toys, clothes (“I’m thinking about starting a children’s clothing line,” Beverly explained when Patty pulled a beautiful hand-stitched dress out of a gift bag), and other necessities for a baby.
Richie looked down when Olivia stirred and blinked her eyes open. “Well hello, princess,” Richie cooed. “You decided to wake up for Uncle Richie?”
He grinned as Olivia smiled at him. “Aww look, Eds, she’s smiling at me! Yes, you think Uncle Richie is funny, don’t you?”
“She’d be the only one,” Stan said dryly as he took her in order to change her now that she was awake.
“Hey, I will have you know that all of my jokes are now Eddie-approved,” Richie replied.
Eddie shrugged. “What can I say, his stand-up has improved since firing his writer.”
Once Stan had come back and set Olivia in her bassinet, it was time for the adults to exchange gifts.
Once Bill, Audra, Ben, Bev, Mike, and Patty (who had Patty, Ben, Eddie, Audra, Stan, and Bev, respectively) all had gone, Stan stood. “I had Mike,” he announced, before handing Mike his gift.
Richie glanced over at Eddie, who was studying the hem of his sweater as if it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. He opened his mouth to say something to Eddie when Stan interrupted. “Rich, you want to go next?”
Richie glanced to where 7 pairs of eyes were staring at him. “Uh, yeah, ok.”
He stood and handed Bill’s gift to him. “Merry Christmakkah, man.”
Bill laughed at the copy of Save the Cat. “I figure it’ll help you learn how to write an ending,” Richie joked.
“Thanks, Richie. This is so great.”
Richie sat back down on the sofa and Stan turned to Eddie. “Eddie, it’s your turn.”
Eddie went to the tree and grabbed a wrapped present. “I really did have it shipped here so you wouldn’t be nosing in the closets trying to find it.”
Richie ripped open the wrapping paper. “Eds, baby, this is fantastic! Thank you so much.” Eddie had bought him a new Bluetooth-enabled, all-in-one record player.
“There’s um, there’s something else, too,” Eddie said, heading back to the tree.
Richie watched as Stan and Eddie seemed to have a silent conversation before Eddie nodded, picking up a small, light blue gift bag. He silently handed it to Richie.
“Aww, thanks, babe.”
Richie untied the white ribbon that was keeping the bag shut, stuck his hand inside…
… And pulled out a note.
“Uh, Eds, baby, it’s customary to give the gag gift BEFORE giving the real gift,” he said jokingly.
“Just read it,” Eddie replied. He seemed nervous.
Richie unfolded the note. In Eddie’s neat handwriting were 5 words:
Richie, will you marry me?
What. He looked up and froze.
Eddie was down on one knee in front of him, a platinum ring in his hands.
Richie blinked. “Eds?”
Eddie took a deep breath. “Richie, exactly one year ago we took one of the biggest leaps of our lives together.  Will you take another with me tonight and make me the happiest man alive?”
Richie’s eyes filled with tears. “Fuck yes,” he said, then pulled Eddie to him for a kiss.
Cheers and congratulations filled his ears.
Eddie slid the ring onto his finger. “I love you so much,” he whispered against Richie’s lips.
“I love you too.”
In the meantime, Stan and Patty had grabbed a bottle of champagne (sparkling grape juice for Bev and Audra) and had poured everyone a glass. “A toast!” Stan declared. “To Eddie and Richie: May you be friends to each other as only lovers can; and may you love each other as only best friends can. Mazel tov!”
“Mazel tov!” everyone else echoed as they raised their glasses.
Richie looked around at his friends – no, his family – as they all took a sip of their drinks, then down at Eddie, who was looking up at him with the same love and admiration that Richie himself felt for Eddie.
“Merry Christmakkah, Rich,” Eddie said softly.
“Merry Christmakkah, Eds,” he whispered before leaning down and connecting his lips to his fiance’s.
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punkpoemprose · 5 years ago
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The Love Talker- Chapter 5
Universe: Gancanagh/ Fae AU Rating: T (currently, expect M in time) Length: 1238
A/N: Same warnings. This is a dark fic. There’s light spots, it’s going to be mostly fluffy and good towards the ends, but the AU that this is requires a bit of darkness. Apologies! Remember when I thought this was going to be a oneshot? Lol! This is a shorter chapter, longer ones to come, but this just seemed to have a natural staring and ending point.
[Previous Chapter]
[Next Chapter]
[Master Post]
She had power over him now, and more promises than he should have allowed, but he trusted the small woman half soaked in mop water who sat on his floor. He had never been able to trust a person before. He trusted creatures of the wood, he trusted Sven, but to trust Anna, that was new territory.
“I ask that you keep that name to yourself,” he said, though he already knew that she would. She wouldn’t wrong him, he could see it in her eyes now that she had come to the realization that he would do the same for her.
“I’d also ask you to stay here for a few days while… things run their course.”
She didn’t need the details. He wasn’t sure if she could handle them. He wasn’t sure if he’d even done something that she would have wanted. He realized now that he hadn’t exactly asked her if she wanted her fiancé addicted and killed, he’d only been furious enough after learning about her predicament to take it upon himself. Maybe she hadn’t wanted it handled that way. There was a lot of complications he hadn’t thought about when he’d acted.
“While my… while he kills himself, you mean?”
He detected no anger in her tone, but she sounded small. She knew what he was capable of and she wasn’t sugar coating things. He could appreciate that, though it did upset him that she stood up and stepped away from him after she’d said it.
                                                             ***
Kristoff. His name was Kristoff. And he’d essentially murdered her murderous fiancé. Did that make him better? She thought so.
She thought a lot of things that she knew may perhaps be a bit mad, but she’d rather be crazy than dead. She’d suspected that when he’d sent her off and left on an “errand” he’d made up his mind to do what he’d done. She should have stopped him, but she hadn’t wanted to.
She was glad that he was dead. Or at least she was glad that he was going to be dead. He wouldn’t have done her any kindness given he was planning to have her killed, by his hand or otherwise, after their wedding.
“Yes.”
He wasn’t lying to her. He couldn’t. He could have artfully dodged the question, but he didn’t, and she was beginning to think that he was very bad at being a monster, the killing notwithstanding.
“You’re bad at being fae you know,” she said, unable to stop herself, “you could have had me a million times over by now, you gave me your name, and you told me the truth every time I asked you something, even when you could have avoided it.”
“You’re bad at being a captivated maiden,” he replied. It was partially a lie, though he didn’t know it, which was why he was able to say it. She wouldn’t have fought nearly so hard against his charms if it weren’t for the fact that he’d let her fight. There were plenty of thoughts in her head that were anything but cautious. He’d even said it himself, she was too trusting.
“Seems like we’re both bad at being what we’re supposed to be.”
He took a step towards her and this time she didn’t step away. He reached his hand out to her and she didn’t flinch. She lifted her head to get a better look at him as he filled her space. His eyes were like chocolate, she loved chocolate.
When he touched her arm, the place covered by her sleeve, but just barely so, she didn’t take any pleasure in it, but stood strong. He’d as good as killed one person that day in the same manner, but Anna was unintimidated. He’d saved her by it, he’d given her his word and asked for little in return.
“I’ll stay.”
“Thank you Kjekk.”
She laughed. She was crazy, and bad at being what the situation dictated she be in either sense. She wasn’t being safe, and she wasn’t giving in.
It helped that he was showing her he was more man than monster.
                                                           ***
He’d left after that. In the moment his touch hadn’t felt like anything more than a proof of her trust for him, but now thinking about Kristoff from the bed in the loft she wondered if it had meant more than that for him. Casual touch wasn’t something she’d been used to before Hans, and now he was soon to be dead. She wondered if Kristoff had any contact with anyone outside addicting mortals. What had made her special? Why hadn’t he addicted her. She’d thought, albeit a bit foolishly, that maybe she just wasn’t his type, but there was more to it than that. The way he’d looked at her when he’d touched her. There was something in his eyes that was incredibly human. She wondered what he might do if she touched him back next time.
She huffed out a breath and tossed in the bed. Her stomach was growling. She still wasn’t going to eat anything in the cabin. She trusted Kristoff in a way, but she still knew what he was and she couldn’t deny the years and years of stories that told her she shouldn’t eat food in the realm of a fae.
She’d noticed the mushrooms when she’d visited Sven in the stables earlier in the day, before she’d cleaned the cabin, before Kristoff had returned and told her his name. Before she’d had her suspicions about what he was doing to Hans confirmed, she had found that all along the perimeter of the clearing that the cabin and stable sat in there were mushrooms growing. She was in what was essentially a massive faerie ring. She’d expected as much of course, but now with the sureness that she’d broken all the rules meant to keep her safe, breaking the final barrier felt too taboo, despite the way her stomach was eating itself.
In the morning she’d head out of the ring and into the woods to find something to eat, maybe she’d bring Sven with her. If she was incapable of finding anything else edible, there were bound to be wild apples somewhere and while it wasn’t quite the filling meal she needed, it was something.
Her father had, despite their relative wealth, often foraged for foods in the wood. He said that the foods of the forest reminded him of his homeland, and Anna wished, as yet another addition to her list of impossible wishes, that she’d gone with him before his death to learn more about what bounty the forest could provide. He’d told her some of the faerie stories of dark forces in the wood and of the tricks one could use to keep themselves safe, though the Irish faerie stories had come from her mother.
“Jeg savner deg pappa. Jeg savner deg mor,” she whispered into the darkness of the loft. None of this would have happened to her if her parents hadn’t died, if Elsa hadn’t pulled away, if she had never met Hans, if she had never met Kristoff.
She hated to admit to herself that she couldn’t entirely regret the last occurrence.
There was something in him that spoke to her, something beyond the strange attraction she felt. It was something deeper, darker, more complicated. Maybe he called to her because he was lonely too.
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The Light Behind Your Eyes (slytherin!Five x slytherin!reader)
A/N: sooo i had a different idea originally but liked this one more because,,, i dunno,, ill probably keep the other one as a draft but it probably wont get posted!!!! hope this is what you wanted.
Request: Omg could you write a Slytherin!five x Slytherin!reader fic? If you’re not too busy that is. I just love Hogwarts and would die to see that dynamic power dou!!
Words: 2893
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“Just focus, it’s not that difficult.”
It was difficult though, the patronus charm was one of the hardest spells to master and even some of the greatest witches and wizards can’t produce one. Yet, for some utterly strange reason, you were expected to be able to cast one. You couldn’t even cast an incorporeal patronus so they gave you a tutor, a sixth year prefect, Five.
Five was the year above, he was one of the strictest prefects you had ever met and the smartest person you could think of. In all the time Five had been in Hogwarts he’d never let his grades drop and had never let anyone or anything distract him, cunning and ambitious, you could tell exactly why he was placed in Slytherin. You, on the other hand, had no clue why you were placed in Slytherin, you couldn’t see yourself as ambitious, cunning or resourceful. It was like you were a puzzle piece that on first glance appeared to fit but the piece is slightly misshaped and distorted.
Faint rumours about Five would drift across the school like the ghosts that lurk in every corner. You had heard tales of how powerful he was, all the duels he’d won, all the advanced classes he took and yet he was here with you, desperately trying to get you to succeed. He was only trying to help you so he could add it to his already huge list of things that he’s done for his head boy application.
“If it’s so easy then you do it.” Turning angrily to face him, you crossed your arms as he looked down on you. He was meant to tutor yet he hadn’t even shown you once how to do the spell.
He huffed. “I’m not the one who needs a tutor to cast a simple spell, y/n. Why should I have to do it?” You observed as he stepped back, crossing his arms to mimic yours.
“You should have to do it because you’re meant to be tutoring me, how can I do the spell if you’re not going to show me how!” You just kept getting more angry as the seconds went on, for how smart Five was meant to be he didn’t have any people skills. He was avoiding eye contact with you, opening and closing his mouth, searching for an answer as you just looked at him expectantly.
“It’s,” you thought for just a moment, Five was about to open up to you, allow you to see into his mad world that he kept to himself. “It’s nothing, I’ve got a head cold right now, it’s difficult to concentrate on casting spells. Let’s just call it a day and I’ll see you in a week at the same time. Practice when you can, It’d be nice to see an improvement.” And with that you grabbed your robe that goes over your jumper and pushed past him, muttering a small ‘whatever’ as you passed him. No matter how great of a wizard he may be, it didn’t deter from the fact that he was a bit of a dick.
Heading back to the common rooms you take a minuet just to think about Five, during your years at Hogwarts you can’t remember a time when you saw him genuinely laugh or smile, he’s always been so uptight since the day you met him when he was a second year and you’d just been sorted into Slytherin.
“Y/n!” Heavy footsteps reverberated off the walls, getting closer. You turn just in time to see Five stop short of a couple of paces in front of you. “If you’re really serious about learning the patronus charm, meet me before breakfast and then after we can go to the library.” You both started walking in the direction of the common room. “and once we’re there we can so some proper research and actually get this spell down and done with.” 
“Sure.” He looked relieved at your response, Five began to fully tell you his plan of action with doing the full research to be able to grasp the true meaning of the spell. You listened intently to his plan, humming to what he was saying. You say the password to the common room while Five continued to talk. 
When you reached the corridor to the girls dorms you turn to face Five and give him a smile. “Night Five, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night y/n, don’t forget 07:30 A.M tomorrow morning down here.” Five gave you a small smile and walked away to the other corridor and began to walk up the stairs, not before turning to give you a small smile. Maybe spending time with Five wouldn’t be as bad as you thought.
In the library, you had stacks of books laid in front of you, any books even containing the word patronus were on the table with you and Five scanning through. You had been going through books for about an hour, only revising information you already knew.
“What’s the most rebellious thing you’ve ever done at Hogwarts?” You ask as you push the book you were currently reading. Five was one of the most well know students but no one knew anything about him at all. 
“I’m not very rebellious, I think the worst thing I’ve done is that I was 2 minuets late to a class once.” He copied your actions by pushing his respective book away from him and leant back in his seat. “You?”
You wondered how much you could actually tell him, he was a prefect after all. “I don’t know, I like to teach myself spells before lessons or just silly spells that we wont get taught.” You say matter-o-factly. You watch as Five examined your face, knowing that you were hiding something. “What, don’t you believe me?” Sarcastically acting shocked, you placed a hand over your heart.
Five rolled his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just that I’ve heard rumours about you, that’s all.” You looked at him expectantly. “You know that you’ve got an illegal magical creature cartel or that once you broke into the professors lounge, stole alcohol and then sold it at high prices to the 7th years.” 
You chuckle at what Five had said, the alcohol ‘rumour’ was true and to say the least it was one of your proudest achievements within the school. “If I confirm any of those rumours will you grass on me?” Five shook his head. “It was me with the alcohol. I would just like to confirm that I definitely do not have any form of cartel.” Five smirks, you both ask questions back and forth until it was time for you both to go off for lessons. You both agree that you would try casting the spell the next day and you went your separate ways, smile on both your faces. 
It had been a few days since you and Five had been meeting up to learn how to cast a patronus. However, it’d always end up with you two just sitting and talking for a few hours until it’s time to go to lessons or time to go back to the dorms. Five had really come out of his shell even if it was only to you, it was a new side to Five that hadn’t been seen before and it was nice.
One thing you were especially good at is care for magical creatures, you were always helping Hagrid out with ‘out of curriculum’ tasks. Every Wednesday night you’d sneak out and go to the forbidden forrest and care for a few creatures that needed some extra help. You’d been doing this since second year and now Hagrid left you too it, he knew you treat them well and you wouldn’t get caught. There were some rare creatures you cared for, not to mention some illegal and ‘dangerous’ creatures but you knew they wouldn’t hurt a fly.
But you had gotten lazy when sneaking out, forgetting to check behind you and cover your tracks. You were at the entrance of the forbidden forrest, waiting for 5 minuets before entering to make sure no one was around but you felt a hand get placed on your shoulder.
“Y/n,” It was Five, he knelt down next to you. “What are you doing here, you know you shouldn’t be out of dorms.” You were glad it was only Five but it didn’t stop you from being mad.
“What are you doing here, why did you follow me if you knew you’re not allowed out?” You stared at him expectantly. You sighed “Are you coming then?”
“Where?” Five asked, you just grabbed his hand and kept low as you head into the forest. Five never argued against it or asked any questions. As you reached the clearing you go to every Wednesday, you grab your wand and muttered a quite ‘lumos’ illuminating the opening. You were deep into the forest and knew that the light couldn’t be seen from the castle. 
You drop the bag you were carrying that contained various meat and bread to feed the creatures you cared for. You pass your wand to Five for him to hold.
“Y/n, what are we doing-” But you shush him as you could hear steps getting closer, you see him visibly tense and go to grab his wand. Gently, you place a hand on his arm and shake your head before reaching down into your bag to get a piece of bread out. 
There she was, a thestral, you’d been looking after her for 3 years now, when you first met her she had a badly damaged wing and couldn’t take off the ground properly but now she was flourishing, she comes back every Wednesday to see you. Today however, she’d brought along her foal, you knelt down so you were height level with the foal and gently offered it some bread.
Stepping back, you turn to look at Five and take in his gobsmacked expression as he eyed the large creatures. “Aren’t- aren’t they classes as extremely dangerous?” You scoffed at his question.
“Do they look dangerous to you?” You went over to him and took back your wand and took his hand, leading him towards the two thestrals. “Come on, I’ll show the others, don’t worry, it’s safe. I’ve been doing this for years.” He didn’t seem to believe you but he let you drag him towards the beautiful creatures, you take his hand that has yours held in a death-grip and place it on the thestrals head. 
You let go of Five and step back, watching him relax as he stroked her head. You pat her on the back as she knelt down to allow you to climb on, you nudge Five to get on behind you. Cautiously he sat behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 
“Brace yourself.” Then you were in the air, soaring away out of the grounds, over the lake and the forests, reaching the stars and beyond. Fives grip loosened around your waist as he looked around in the air, he’d never seen anything so beautiful.
Five was glad he made the decision to go after you them few days ago, he was glad he was assigned as your tutor. He was sick of being boring, sick of just being known as a strict prefect. The real reason he didn’t cast a patronus is because he just didn’t have a good enough memory to be able to conjure one but he wanted to change that and tonight, he was.
Far too quickly you came to a soft landing, you both jumped off before giving the thestrals a soft pat. You let them lead ahead, following them to the rest of the magical creatures you looked after and cared for throughout your time at Hogwarts. The place they were leading you to was a large opening with a small lake, even at the dead of night it was softly lit by various creatures with a gentle buzz from the animals that inhabited it. 
“What is this place?” Five was shocked, looking round with large eyes. He was taking in the picture that was in front of him.
“Heaven.” You led Five forward, giving him some snacks to feed the creatures with. The small pups came running towards you first, excited to see what foods you’ve brought them this week. There were crups and kneazles, puffskeins and snidgets. Five then saw Griffins and more thestrals, he couldn’t believe his eyes, all these creatures in one place with not a single one fighting or trying to attack him. Everything he’d ever been told about these creatures was wrong, he was wrong about them.
“Everything in here is protected,” You explain, picking up a crup pup. “I taught myself the Protego Maxima, Fianto Duri and Repello Inimicum charms and use them on this area so only people who travel through on the thestrals can see whats inside, mainly because they know where to go as you can’t see whats inside.” You continue to give love to the crup held in your arms as other creatures make their way over. “People hunt and abuse these animals, I don’t want them to get hurt, they don’t deserve it. There’s some endangered creatures here, so I like to make sure they’re ok.” 
Five took a seat next to you, accepting the creatures rubbing against him for attention. You finish dishing out the various snacks and treats to the creatures of the magical world, it was time for you to go back to Hogwarts, you beckon Five back over to the thestral and begin your journey back.
Once reaching the castle grounds you had sneak back into the castle unnoticed, this was the first time you had to get two people back in. You decide the best way of getting back in is to go through the secret passage at the back end of the school, luckily for you, you had acquired the marauders map and were able to see where everyone was at that current time. It was an easy route in that night, you both simply sipped back into the common room.
Just before you turned to walk up to your dorm Five grabbed your arm. “Thank you y/n, for letting me come with you. Sit with me tomorrow at breakfast tomorrow and then straight after we can finally crack the patronus?” You just nodded your head at Five and gave him a smile. A part of you didn’t want to be able to cast the patronus so you could continue spending time with him, in almost a week you’d seen a complete opposite side to Five than the rumours suggested. Five had been acting differently recently as well, being an overall kinder person hadn’t gone unnoticed by professors and students alike.
Five laid in his bed, unable to sleep from the nights events. He couldn’t believe he waited that long to get to know y/n, he can’t believe how boring his time at Hogwarts used to be. In them few days of knowing y/n, Five had had the most fun and interesting time. Not to mention y/n’s way with magical creatures, how much she actually cared for them and she let Five see that side, see her ‘heaven’ as y/n put it. Five hoped that she wouldn’t actually be able to cast the patronus so he could just be with her more. He hoped that after tonight he would finally be able to cast one as well.
The next morning, you were stood in an empty classroom with Five, watching closely as he was about to cast his patronus. You watch his shaking hands as he took a defensive stance, you didn’t know what his patronus could be but then he said the spell.
A silver otter burst from the end of his wand, it slid through the air playfully before dissipating in the air. “An otter?” Five seemed almost disappointed with his patronus. 
“An otter represents playfulness and being relaxed, god knows you’ve hid that well.” You joked cheekily joked, nudging his arm. “I guess it’s my turn, innit?” Sighing you turn to the side, allowing for room for whatever patronus would appear, if one would appear at all.
“ Expecto Patronum!” A white light shoots from your wand, through the light a giant thestral galloped graciously, turning towards you, circling you before disappearing. You look at the space where the beautiful beast stood and then turned to look at Fives gobsmacked face. “I did it!” You embraced Five, almost knocking him off his feet.
“You did it.” He sounded almost breathless in his response. He didn’t sound too pleased about it though.
You stepped back. “You don’t sound too happy about it, you actually managed to get me to do it.” 
“Well now that you’ve done it, I don’t need to tutor you any more.” He looked sad, at a stretch you could say devastated.
“I’m still going to hang round with you even if you don’t need to tutor me anymore. You’re pretty good craic to be honest, I’d like to keep that around.”  Five smiled to your response, glad not to be losing a quick found friend. Maybe the rest of your time at Hogwarts wouldn’t be so bad.
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codenamesazanka · 6 years ago
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I know this is a really vague thing to ask, but do you have any tips for writing Shigaraki? I know Echodrops made a whole meta about fanon Shigaraki vs canon Shigaraki but do you personally have anything in particular you'd want to mention yourself about the portrayal of Shigaraki in fanfics?
(Here’s the link to @echodrops‘s post! It’s really, really good, and helped me figure out Shigaraki a lot in the first place. thank you!)
oooh! Not at all a vague thing, this is a great question. I started all this meta because I wanted to figure out how to write Shigaraki as well. A word of caution tho, because this would be my personal interpretation of Shigaraki, though I’ll try to use as much manga examples as I can. As always, super long post. 
Note: images are edited to fit exact quotes to relevant and reasonable sized images, instead of a whole manga page
Here’s some hand man characteristics/traits that I think are overlooked:
Shigaraki Tomura, in his beliefs/values, has a tendency for all-or-nothing thinking, to be extreme in his actions. In all three of his incarnations - the oneshot Tenko, the draft Sazanka, and this current one - a core of the character is 1) finding something flawed/bad/had hurt him somehow 2) completely loathing it 3) vowing to destroy it. 
Tenko despised samurai and their warring, and wishes to rid the world of swords. Sazanka is on a quest to kill quirk-users with quirks he deems too dangerous for society. And Shigaraki has decided that the Heroes and justice system is a farce, and is out to destroy it. 
Kinda fitting for a guy with his quirk - he either doesn’t destroy something, or destroys it completely. The moment he makes his decision, it’s fast and permanent. 
For Shigaraki, murder is murder, destruction is destruction, violence is violence, no matter how you dress it up. That’s why he couldn’t see the difference between him and Stain. That’s why he can’t see that Bakugou, as aggressive and vicious as he is, still wants to be a good guy. 
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Now this is my take, but I think his mindset is: Because All Might can’t save everyone, he’s a fake, he’s trash; because everyone will say they condemn murder yet go about their lives carefree even though they know logically someone is out there getting killed, morality and justice is an illusion; because justice is so fragile and flimsy, I will expose it and destroy it. 
Not in any goodwill or for a better society, mind you. He just hates it. 
He also has no illusions about himself or his actions, he knows he’s evil.
Shigaraki is a lot more sarcastic and sardonic than usually portrayed in fanon. He’s very rude and can be foul mouthed, but the real insult comes from his tone and behavior. He condescendingly calls Eraserhead cool. He calls Stain the ‘Great Senpai of scoundrels’. He points out to Overhaul how a wakagashira/underboss like him should be more polite. Just about half of everything he says is dripping with mockery, and he’s very breezy and irreverent. So a bit less ‘I hate you, fuck off’, and more cheek.
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Adding to that, if I’m reading my Japanese right, Shigaraki can change how he addresses people depending on the person and situation. His default speech is rude, but he’ll talk somewhat (barely) politely-ish if needed; it’s just it’s very obvious he’s not taking it seriously. 
Related, I feel like Shigaraki says a lot of things he doesn’t really believe. He tries out concepts, half-heartedly, on a whim. There’s that infamous speech at USJ about Heroes and Villains both using violence - which does seem to have some semblance to the actual ‘two sides of the same coin’ that even Best Jeanist talks about. 
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And here’s him considering Stain’s effects on heroes, with gusto, before ditching it.
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I know it’s Smash!, but here’s him reciting some sort of pseudo education philosophy he picked up somewhere??? to Kurogiri to get out of exercise. 
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He’s a total smartass 
Of course, this brings up the question, is he genuine in his speech to Bakugou, or to Toga and Twice? 
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 Like Echodrop notes, he can be in a good mood. He can be (seem?) happy, he can smile, he will acknowledge when someone does a good job of something. 
Sure, it’s got a manic edge to it, it’s probably not coming from a place of good, fluffy, innocent feelings, but he can laugh, enjoy the moment, be psyched about something. 
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I really like this scene because he actually giggles a bit. He squeezes Midoriya, and he really does seem excited for a chat. 
He’s quick to go back to being default cranky tho. Quick to enjoy, quick to get irked.  
Shigaraki is a weirdo and I love him.
 My boy is smart. Really, Shigaraki is smarter than he looks. In the Ultra Archive, his profile lists his intelligence as ‘A’, ranking him above most characters, including Midoriya. I get that Deku’s whole thing is being the strategizing main character, but Shigaraki’s just as analytical. Even the Smash! Comic points this out. 
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His room is filled with books, so either he reads a lot or he hoards them to look smart. I think it’s the former. Well, it’s not mutually exclusive, I should know.
He thinks and reflects and questions. He was super pissed about Stain, but he realized Stain was right and tried to figure out why. He went on a walk to calm down and just ruminate. He sought out Midoriya just to get second opinion. Afterwards, he quickly sees the bigger picture and realizes the issue is systemic and he’s gotta attack the structure. Of course, kinda shaky on the specific details and it’s not endgame long term, but still impressive. 
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There’s a lot of Villain!Deku fanfics - and I like them a lot! - that turns Deku into the criminal mastermind or makes him the brains behind Shigaraki’s operations. Which is fair, Deku could totally be one! And also a lot of fics where Shigaraki is dismissed, with everything he does being AFO’s machinations. Again, fair. But Canon Shigaraki is AFO’s successor and leads the League for a reason.
This also means, I think, that Shigaraki isn’t as clueless to the fact that All For One is manipulating him. This point is entirely debatable, though. All I have to back this is how Shigaraki wondered if he was lied to in the USJ.
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Even tho he’s facepalm crusty boi neet, Shigaraki is still a very dangerous S-ranked villain. I feel like sometimes people forget this. 
 He’s not that childish. He can be immature, he’s still learning the ropes of being a supervillain, he’s got an irritable and sullen disposition, but he’s not a five-year-old. He’s also not completely unhinged. 
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When things don’t go his way, his first response usually isn’t to shriek or whine or immediately snap. He’s got a clear head and a good sense of what he can and can’t do. Kurogiri is down, All Might escaped their grasp, but Nomu’s still active? Cool, we got this. It’s only when Nomu gets team-rocket-ed that he panics. Stain stabs him? Doesn’t start a fight right there and then, asks Master for some Nomu, is patient enough to wait until he decides he really can’t stand Stain, then finally gives the go ahead for a rampage. 
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Shigaraki knew from the start he can’t handle All Might. That’s Nomu’s job. As much as he hates All Might, he doesn’t jump at the chance to kill the hero personally. He’s not ruled by impulse or easy distractions, not really. And he will back down if Kurogiri reasons with him - see accepting Stain as a party member, see letting Toga and Dabi live. And after he got his motivation, he’s been very restraint since. 
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He doesn’t immediately destroy his things in anger - we only see him destroy only few items pre-mall talk. He decays binoculars, a photo of Deku, maybe a newspaper, all quiet and deliberate. Kurogiri’s bar is intact and clean, despite being the long-time hang out spot of the destructive Shigaraki Tomura. Would he decay a controller after losing a game? Maybe, but also just as likely maybe not. 
Shigaraki will complain and bitch and sulk and hold a grudge, tho, yeah. He will lose it after a series of stressors/things gone wrong. He can be moody, cruel and sadistic, bloodthirsty and mayhem-loving. But he’s got himself under control more often than not. 
Finally, video games: My biggest pet peeve about portrayal of Shigaraki in fanfics: He’s super obsessed with video games, to the point that he plays them all day long, and he can’t stop using video game slang for everything - or so a lot of the fandom believes. 
I’ve pointed out before that we’re more likely to see him reading the newspaper and we’ve never actually seen him use a console ever in manga or anime. True, he likens scenarios to games frequently, but not all the time - the USJ fight was when he did that the most, then in his other appearances only once or twice during the whole scene (Doesn’t want Stain as a ‘party member’, none at all when meeting Dabi or Toga and then at the mall, camp arc has him seeing himself playing a Sim instead of an RPG, calls All Might ‘last boss’ during the raid, then nothing for his next appearances). At least not out loud. As fun as it is to imagine him as a geeky gamer, and he is, but he does more than just that. 
I think Shigaraki uses video games and media to create mental scripts for himself to understand/interact with the world, but it serves as a skeleton. He fleshes it out, always adding to that mental model to create a more complex one. He calls his change of strategy as playing a Sim game, but it’s a good analogy that works for him, and we see how layered his plan is - dealing a blow to UA that works whether the Vanguard succeed or not, kidnapping Bakugou and Ragdoll, in order to bring about the media and public criticism of UA/heroes, and had it not been for the raid, something would’ve happen to Bakugou that would’ve demoralized everyone. 
He def is grounded in reality enough to know what he’s doing is more than just a game. 
And that’s all I got for now! There might be a part two. idk, but I hope this was helpful! 
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ginnyzero · 5 years ago
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Completely Harmless Ch. 7
Completely Harmless An SSO SilverGlade Re-imagining Story (Or Fix it Fan Salt fic) By Ginny O.
When Lily and her friends wanted to buy horses and were directed to the Silverglade Manor and its myriad of problems, they didn’t expect to start a revolution. They were just a bunch a stable girls. Completely harmless. Right?
A/N: Things are only canon if I say they’re canon. Pre-Saving the Moorland Stables compliant for the most part. Posted in its entirety on my website. Posted in 2000 to 4000 word bits here. Rated T for Swearing Word Count 177,577
Chapter Seven Meeting Agnetha and Bjorn
“Well girls, the stables are clean,” Regina said. “We’re on our way to getting G.E.D. out of the fields. Now what?”
“We might have gardeners showing up this afternoon,” Lily said.
“And, the gardens are currently a fire hazard,” Pauline murmured as she texted their new name to Linn.
“Heavy gloves,” Jennifer said firmly.
“I think there are some clippers and hoes and such in the hay dryer. That should also be in the tack room,” Tyra cracked her neck.
“Let’s go girls,” Lily said.
Brittany started to hum an older but still popular country song.
“I only want to have a good time. The best thing about being a woman is the prerogative to have a little fun,” she sang.
Those who knew it joined it. “Oh, oh, oh, give them a lady…”
Linda burst into giggles.
“Man, I feel like a woman,” Lily said as she did a little dance step.
They went to the hay dryer and Tyra handed out equipment and they tugged on heavy gloves. They split into two teams each taking one side of the gate and started by clipping the weeds. Lily kept her eye on the gates just in case Iris’ gardener friends started appearing.
Seeing that the girls were working on the gardens, the gardeners approached them. Some were incensed that the girls were weeding. As if the girls were going to start planting flowers next without any supervision. Others had grand plans that had nothing at all to do with the space or what the Baroness might like.
Lily scratched those types right out of consideration.
Late in the afternoon, a pair of gardeners showed up. One was a rather pleasant fellow with a beard, straw hat and a flower dangling out of his mouth. He looked around the place with consideration. The other was a hard faced woman who looked over the space imperiously. Seeing the girls pulling the weeds into piles. She marched over.
“Hard workers, I like that,” she said and put her hands on her hips. “Can’t really get a sense of the space with all these weeds in the way. Now, who is in charge here?”
“Well, that would be the Baroness,” Lily said slowly.
“Linda is the stable manager,” Regina said. “Judy is the stable master.”
“We’re a bunch of stable girls,” Lily said.
The man came over. “Agnetha,” he chided gently. “Stop bothering these poor girls. They’re working.”
Agnetha huffed.
The man smiled. “I’m Bjorn,” he said in a friendly manner. “My wife, Agnetha, and I have done a lot of research about the Silverglade Manor gardens and their history. When our good friend Iris said that the manor was in need of some care and attention,” he trailed off.
Lily leaned against her hoe. “Well,” she gestured. “As you can see, it’s gone a bit to seed. You’re more than welcome to look around.”
Pauline stripped off her gloves. “I’m local,” she said. “And I know these terraces like the back of my hand. I can give you a tour if you like.”
“Do you have any ideas?” Theresa asked.
Agnetha sniffed. “Not until I see what we’ve got to work with and if I could get my hands on some of the old layouts from the former gardens. I’d like to restore and update rather than start from scratch.”
“They might be in the library,” Pauline said. “We can ask Linda. She knows where everything is in the library.”
“Do you ride?” Tyra asked. “It would be easier to show you if you can ride. Big gardens are… big,” she smiled weakly.
“We can try.” Agnetha said. “Never been much for horses,” she mumbled.
“We’ll be right here with you,” Lily said. “Wait here.”
“We’ll keep at it,” Theresa said.
“And abscond with a person from the other side. Keep the teams even,” Elsa wrinkled her nose.
Lily and Pauline giggled. They jogged off and returned with their horses and gentle horses for Bjorn and Agnetha.
Pauline led the tour skirting around the empty reflecting pool that had lots of leaves and dirt in it.
“We better shovel that out next,” Lily said and texted it to Grace to add to their list of things to do.
Agnetha nodded.
“So, the gardens are a bunch of terraces that wind back and forth all the way down to the Riding Arena,” Pauline said. “They all have irrigation pipes. Not the big ones like the grape fields above the ground, but smaller ones. But everything is broken. You can take the main road down to the Riding Arena that skirts the mountain and the gardens or you can take the winding path through the gardens that ends on the opposite side near the gate for the Golden Hills.”
Agnetha nodded.
Bjorn made passing comments about what the different areas of the garden used to be according to their research.
A chipmunk darted across their path holding some seeds in his cheeks and with distinctive stripes down his back.
Pauline winced. “As you can see, we have a chipmunk infestation.”
“It looks like there is a lot of work to be done,” Bjorn said.
“Roses,” Agnetha said shortly. “Lots of roses. Lilacs. Purple fountain grass. Maybe some white cloud grass or white pampas.”
“The Baroness we know likes purple,” Bjorn grinned. “It’s the official color of the family because of their access to red grapes to get it for dye.”
“The tannins,” Agnetha waved a hand.
“So, they could make purple dye too?” Lily asked.
“Birch makes an excellent reddish brown dye,” Bjorn nodded. “That’s how they added more red to the purple to get the lovely mulberries.”
“Ohhh,” Lily said. “Makes sense to use their natural resources around them.”
“Allium,” Agnetha murmured. “Glads are too much work if we’re doing roses. Foxgloves,” she nodded. “Definitely want a wild folly type feeling back here through the back. Lupines. Lisianthus, white and purple in one flower. Maybe Clematis to hide the corners. It’s a climber.”
Bjorn just looked fond.
“Lily of the Valley for the shady spaces. Vinca, they’re showy. The frost is long past so Queen Anne’s Lace won’t go amiss. Wild feeling again. Foam flowers for the shady areas near the clematis. But mostly, we’re going to want roses. Lots and lots of roses, they’re enough types for height and ground cover. Just want to break them up a bit back here.”
“You’re the expert,” Lily murmured.
They ended up near the riding arena close to the Iron Gate that lead to Golden Hills. Agnetha nodded her head. “I’ve got the feel for it.”
They escorted them back to the Manor by taking the road. Linda met them and so while Pauline and Lily went to take care of the horses, Linda led Agnetha and Bjorn to the library where she’d already laid out a bunch of books and blueprints of the gardens.
“You’re the first ones to ask in an age,” Linda said apologetically. “I hope that this is useful.”
“You’ve given us more than we could have hoped for,” Bjorn said with a smile.
“The gardens are well documented at least here in the Manor library,” Linda nudged her glasses. “If you have any questions or need more sources, please come find me.”
They both nodded but were already engrossed in the papers.
Linda left them there.
By the time the girls left to go back to Moorland that night, there were big piles of weeds and bracken that they didn’t know precisely what to do with in the garden spaces. (Tyra thought they should compost it somehow.) Their limbs were also quite sore. But they were hopeful.
What they didn’t know was that evening, Baroness Annabella Silverglade decided to inspect her stables and gardens to see what needed to be done herself.
And she was very impressed with what she saw of the work that had been done.
Very impressed indeed.
FOR THE ACCOMPANYING IMAGES PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE MY WATERMARK AND CONTACT INFORMATION. THANK YOU. I get it. Some of you might get excited and want to see this stuff in the game, especially the clothes, tack, and pets. However, the only way I want to see this in the game is if I get paid for it. If I see it in the game and I’m not paid for it, there will be hell to pay. You think I’m salty. I’d be angry. Personally, I’m not going to send this info to SSO. If you do, leave my contact information there! Don’t give them any excuses to steal.
Now, I’ll know you haven’t read this note if you leave me comments about how ‘salty’ I am about the game and if I hate it so much I should do something else. I am doing something else. It’s called Mystic Riders MMORPG Project. Mystic Riders however is a very baby phase game. You can check out our plans on the game dev blog. (Skills, Factions, Professions, Crafting, Mini-Games, 25+ horse breeds!) If you know anyone who would be interested and has money or contacts about game making, direct them to the blog.
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a-marlene-s · 5 years ago
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Floating White Lotus
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This fic was inspired by this post by @captainkirkk.
Book One: Water
Title: “Dandelion Root Tea”
Chapter: Beginning - Previous Chapter - 4 - Next Chapter
Masterlist
Rating: T (curse words mainly.)
Genre: Humor, Drama, and more humor.
Summary: Floating White Lotus, a former fire nation ship that was converted into a traveling tea shop. The shop is led by the rumored the Dragon of the West, (No knows if this is true or not… yet) and his nephew who wishes to forget the everlasting war. Well, until a certain someone decided he’d be the perfect fire bending instructor.
Archive Of Our Own: Floating White Lotus
Fanfiction.net: Floating White Lotus 
Wattpad: Floating White Lotus 
D/C: I own nothing.
Shout-out to ProudGeek4Ever! Thank you so much for beta reading the Floating White Lotus!
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Dandelion Root Tea
It improves digestion and aids weight gain. Purifies bladder and kidneys. Reduces the risk of urinary infections, purifies the blood and improves blood circulation. Eases bloating and aching joints. Helps cure skin conditions. Warning! Can cause allergic reactions when taken by mouth or applied to the skin. Ragweed Allergy.
"There have been multiple sightings of Aang and the others from all kinds of places, but no one has an exact location on their current whereabouts," Iroh explained as they packed their supplies onto four Komodo Rhinos. They would make it a lot easier to get to their next location. He took out a map and showed Zuko where they'd been seen.
Zuko frowned. It was easy to tell where they'd been, but it was impossible to say where they were heading. Either Aang severely lacked navigational skills or he was a master at evasive maneuvering. He couldn't care less what they were doing as long as they were out of his sight. "Here's to hoping we don't run into them anytime soon."
-.-
"Tell them, Zuko! We aren't spies!"
Zuko resisted the urge to slam his head against the metal serving tray he was holding. They were not supposed to be here. Here, as in the same place he was. The three should be out looking for bending masters for Aang.
Not here.
Tied up to a pole.
Being interrogated by the Kyoshi Warriors.
Kyoshi warriors that thought they were spies for the Fire Nation.
"You know these guys, Zuko?" Suki turned her attention to Zuko that was close to pouring hot tea over himself. "Put the kettle down."
"He knows us! We're frie-OW! Katara!" Sokka glared at his sister who was now giving Zuko a pleading stare.
Zuko could only shake his head at this point. The kettle got placed back down on the tray. He took a deep breath and looked at the female warriors. "The bald monk is the Avatar and the other two are Sokka and Katara. The ones I told you about. They live on the South Pole."
"He's the one that got his thumb stuck on a fishing hook?" Suki pointed at Sokka with her fan with an incredulous expression.
"He then tried using another hook to take the first one out and got the second one stuck too." Katara quickly explained the story. It earned her a glare from her brother and laughter from everyone else.
"I thought it was four hooks?"
"That's a whole other story, Zuko."
-.-
Zuko served tea to Aang and Katara. Sokka was lying on the ground moping about their capture. He looked out and saw the villagers had decided to honor the Avatar by cleaning the statue of Avatar Kyoshi. He had to give it to them. The statue was over three hundred years old and it still stood strong.
"Rumor has it that the Avatar is a master at evasive maneuvering." He kept pouring the tea like if he was simply discussing the weather.
"He lacks navigational skills. It's worked well enough."
"Oh, like you are any better, Sokka!"
The Avatar and the banished Prince got first row seats of yet another sibling squabble. The airbender turned his attention to Zuko and saw him looking out into the yard with a wistful expression. Outside there were children playing with sticks and a leather ball. "Have you thought over the possibility of teaching me firebending?"
"I'm still not teaching you. You are not ready."
"Ah!" Aang grinned at the older boy. "You do plan on teaching me."
Zuko rolled his eyes and placed the teapot on the table before heading out of the hut. "I am never going to teach you how to firebend. I'll become Fire Prince before that happens."
-.-
Sokka's jaw dropped at the sight. "Zuko? What are you doing here?"
The Kyoshi warriors were putting on make-up and tying up his hair. One was looking through the uniforms to find a one that fit.
"Training." He'd always been straight to the point. Sokka kept staring at him with a gobsmacked expression. Maybe it was the hair? "Why are you here?"
"To train…"
-.-
He watched Suki and Sokka fight together with the Kyoshi Warriors. He had to remember to compliment Sokka later. He'd improved since the last time he had seen him fight. It was a well-known fact in the Southern Water Tribe that Zuko had taught Sokka some hand to hand combat. The younger Water Tribe boy kept losing his weapon. This way he had a fighting chance.
With that in mind, Sokka did well, but he was nowhere near Suki'd level. She had gotten him on the ground. The question was if her would accept defeat. Sokka stretched his neck and saw Zuko patiently looking at him. The memory of all their lessons came to the forefront of his mind.
Sokka turned back to Suki and bowed. He told her it would be an honor to be trained by her if she would consider it. Zuko smiled. His friend had come far.
-.-
Zuko watched as the majority of the girls on the island chased after Aang. The lovers spat between Aang and Katara had resulted with Katara walking off. He rolled his eyes and went back to training a few of the warriors how to wield dual broadswords.
In return, they had gathered herbs specific for this region. It was a good trade. Just another day for Zuko and the Floating White Lotus.
"Zuko."
They all stopped training as Jee ran up to them. He motioned for the warriors to leave him and Jee.
"We spotted Zhao's men on the island. I had the men sail away to avoid suspicion. Your uncle is with them and I have a boat waiting for us." Zuko didn't react as Jee had expected. He was calm and looked around to see that both Aang and Katara were nowhere to be seen and Sokka was still being taught by Suki. "Get back to the ship. They won't recognize me right now."
The warrior paint hid the scar and the headband covered his ears. You wouldn't be able to tell it was Zuko in the armour unless you already knew.
"How would you get back to the ship?"
"Don't worry about it. I have to make the others leave before they get found by Zhao."
"Don't get caught. Otherwise, we'd have to deal with the consequences of your stupidity."
"Me? Doing something stupid? Don't make me la-"
Sometime later~
"That's ridiculous. Zuko does something stupid? Impossible." Jee watched Zuko get flung into the air by the unagi. At least some flames were extinguished. As for himself, well he didn't go back to the ship. He stayed behind and stayed hidden. Someone had to make sure the prince didn't get killed. "Who's laughing now? Not me. That's for sure."
Luckily the Avatar and his group left and the attackers followed. Jee took the opportunity to get rid of the fires the unagi had left behind. The main threat was gone.
Zuko groaned while he limped towards him. "I thought I told you to leave."
"And have your uncle kill me if anything had happened to you? No thanks."
-.-
"Are you sure it's okay to leave Zuko behind?" Sokka asked with his gaze on the island that was getting further and further away. "If he gets caught by the Fire Nation..."
"Zuko is stronger than he looks Sokka. Plus, they paid more attention to us, than him."
"Why do you think he left?" The young monk was curious and thought it was more to the story.
"All we know is that Zuko got disowned by his family and is not welcome back until he gets his 'honor' back." Sokka used air quotes. "I personally believe he didn't want to join the army and it got him banished. As for Iroh... Someone had to take care of the guy."
"Is that enough to get them arrested?"
"We don't know."
TBC
R/R.
Tag List: @amynchan, @aliendoodles2
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