#never thought i'd see myself write a soulmate au of all things but this happened so here it is

[wandaslittlelove]

An idea I had while writing the Soulmate Au. Not apart of it.

Warnings: Angst

When Angela texted me and asked if I wanted to go to dinner I was so excited. We had found out we are each others soulmates months ago but she never really seemed interested in the idea so that fact that she asked me to dinner and told me to wear something pretty really made me happy.

I had spent a couple hours getting ready. I had a sun dress on and did my hair and was all ready to go. Getting into my car I drove to the restaurant and couldn’t help myself as I started shaking with excitement,

But that excitement soon turned to confusion as I walked up to Angela and saw her with two other girls. When she finally saw me she smiled and it caused the butterflies in my stomach to start fluttering.

“Your here! Okay so this is my girlfriend Sarah and this is Cameron.” She said gesturing to the two ladies but I couldn’t focus because the only thing on my mind being that she had a girlfriend. My soulmate had a girlfriend and invited me to dinner with her?

“Girlfriend?” I questioned as I looked between the two.

“yeah . We’ve been together for a couple months now.” She looked over to Sarah and I could see her eyes sparkle just by looking at her.

“I- I dont understand”

“Cameron is Sarahs soulmate but well me and Sarah love each other and don’t really want to be with anyone else. So we thought that maybe you two would hit it off!” I felt my heart shatter a little as I grabbed my sun dress now knowing whats happening. Angela never intended for this to be a date. She just wanted to set me up with someone else. Because she was already in love.

I looked over to Cameron and she gave me a small smile as she glanced at Sarah.

“Come on. I set up a reservation for the both of you. It’s under your last name.” Angela says as she takes Sarah’s hand and drags her inside. I look to Cameron once more and she gesture for me to walk inside.

Once we got seated I found myself searching for Angela. When my eyes finally found her I frowned. She was a couple tables over and was holding Sarah’s hand from across the table. Her eyes had a certain light in them that I’ve never seen before. 

I swallowed back my tears as I looked at the girl that sat across from me. She was staring at Sarah with the same longing that I was looking at Angela with.

“Did you know?” I questioned. Her eyes snapped back to mine before she gave a slow nod.

“Sarah told me that she had someone she thought I'd like. She didn’t tell me you didn’t know though” I nodded and watched her eyes drift back over and found mine doing the same. Sarah was brushing a bit of hair out of Angela’s face as Angela gave her a bright smile. I found myself having to look away and suddenly my appetite was gone. The room felt to small and to hot.

“I’m sorry. I don’t- I should go” I whispered as I stood up and started leaving. Cameron was quick to follow me out.

“Before you go take my number” I looked down to her outstretched hand and up to her face. Before I could deny her she spoke again. “Just as a friend. We both are in the same position. We could use the comfort” She said again. With a sigh I handed her my phone.

[writerscafehub]

MEET THE BARISTA: Stella

@a-lumos-in-the-nox

From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

4.0, I've gotten better over the years, especially with just sharing over two ish years ago. I'd like to go back and brush up some descriptions but other than that I say it's good! 

What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

I say the characters I decide to make each one of my characters are their own person that I can see being real. They are definitely my favorite part of my stories.

Are there any writers that inspire you?

Right now, Brandon Sanderson. I'm reading through his first novels now. The way he uses descriptions to worldbuild is amazing! And I love his characters

And all my friends on the server, the people over there write some incredible stuff!

What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

Stella Archer, I wrote that story in college it's a decade old & I never thought I'd finish it let alone share it! Stella's been with me the longest so you can see how I used to write then vs. now all in one series. 

Which character(s) do you find easiest to write and which do you find most difficult to write?

Easiest to write: George Weasley cause anything goes with him. He's goofy, sweet, confident and a wildcard. That's really fun to play with. 

Hardest/Challenging: Neville Longbottom & Druig. These two are my heads & tails. They are complete opposites. Druig's is inquisitive and there's a depth to him that I can relate too, and hes smart mouth, my favorite kind of guy lol. 

Neville is soft, confident, brave & empathic. There are things i can have Druig do that i can’t do with Neville and vice versa. I could talk about their differences forever but they are still a fun challenge to write. 

Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

Usually whatever idea I haven't done yet or I want to try. I write a lot about superheroes or powered individuals. Often with my own spin 😏. Friends to lovers mostly. 

Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about!

im working on the ending of Bloom, it's the last character arch for Neville. His eldest will be looking at school brochures and some of his past students will make a groundbreaking medicine for people who have pain caused from curses & his parents being among the ones able to get the medicine. Meaningful things happen & I'm excited to write it!!!

First fandom you ever wrote for?

Harry Potter; 😂 nothing has changed I still love the universe.

Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

I dont feel guilty about them their all pleasures; so Soulmate AUs, soft dark, Coffee Shop AUs, threesomes, genderbending.

A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

A/B/Os the structure would be all over the place. 

Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

Never Too Late, I put as many of my favorite tropes in there as I could. Soulmate AU, Coffeeshop AU, gross loving couple, old married couple, Tall boi, short girl…etc. And they fucked for a hobby. It was so nuts I made a game out of it in that universe had it's own rules & everything 😂 So much unhinged stuff happens in that fic & I don't regret any of it 😂. 

Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

OCs x main character. Which is usually an extension of me somehow cause i said so. Even the very few readers stuff i have i always pictured myself. 

Do you listen to anything while you write?

I have a playlist for each story i have & i cycle through thoes whenever i need the vibes 

One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

Both, I like both 

15. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

My ficts are day dreams haha. Hmmm I have a bunch of daydreams about Daphne & Charlie spending time with their parents as a family in some of the places they have traveled to when they didn't have kids. That and the adventures of Daphne & Lottie growing up. But I'm really stubborn about aging my OCs kids so most of them stop at a certain age.

16. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

Not scared, I just don’t know how to write it. I want to make my own villain somehow but i gotta figure out so many things first. Or the villain's spouse or something, it’s still on the drawing board. I don't do many dark things so it would be a challenge for me. 

What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

All the comments on my first dark oneshot, Sweet Dreams. It was just me playing around with Druig’s powers to a higher level then flooring it. It was fun & the ones of my first series Stella Archer that story is a decade old. So to get comments on that was special 

Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

For Between the Shadows I did cause i was trying to portray my OC for that a certain way without making her sound boring. That was a hard fic for me in many, many ways. But it turned out great! I’ve never introduced an OC in a more profound way than I did with Juni and it was refreshing to experiment with that OC. 

Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

I'm a sucker for both. I’ve written both. 

Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

I have 13 fully developed ones and the rest are side ones. But here are some of my favorites!  

Stella Archer-Asgardian Demi-god think of Gaia with all the powers of the elements. She has 4 kids. And married her highschool sweetheart George Weasley. 

Flower- a nymph of mythology origins. Her power is growing flowers and plants from anywhere as long as she has a water source. She carries a pouch of soil around with her for such an occasion. She stayed with her love even though he was cursed by the flying dutchman. 

Ruby Morgan- Charms professor, classic style of dress, her magic specialty is levitation she can make anything levitate with a snap of her fingers. She grew up in France raised by her Dad and her Grandmother. She can read Latin, speak French and loves cats.  

Angus Kohler- Scottish, loves to drink. His magic specialty is tracking. He teaches Care of Magical Creatures. Head of Hufflepuff house. Werewolf, he’s Neville’s best friend and Ruby’s too. Plays the bagpipes at every graduation in full kilt attire that matches Hufflepuff.  

If you could enter the universe of any one of your fics, which would it be and why?

I’d enter Never Too Late cause that OC is the closest to me irl and I basically gave her everything I wanted and didn't skip any details lol. I would gladly love to be in that universe. 

Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them! My ficts are day dreams haha. Hmmm I have a bunch of daydreams about Daphne & Charlie spending time with their parents as a family in some of the places they have traveled to when they didn't have kids. That and the adventures of Daphne & Lottie growing up. But I'm really stubborn about aging my OCs kids so most of them stop at a certain age. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

From Kissed by the Land; Cursed by the Sea.

In a tavern miles away sat a bard playing a tune and weaving a tale.

Let me tell you a tale about a mortal man forced to sail the reaper of the blue…His eyes as blue as the cursed seas, and hair as black as the night, it's true…

He's fought sirens, an sailors, an swamp monsters too, all while sailing souls lost to the depths, to their final steps…it's true.

The reaper of the blue captured this man, for a century or two. Till it was over. An he returned home, to his dearest its true…

This is the tale of the reaper of the blue, and a man forced to sail it's sails wide and true for a century or two…

Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I wanna go back and write Kissed by the Land; CUrsed by the Sea as a darker tale but i have NO idea how but I totally could!!! I just played around with Fairytales in that one. Um my current series Bloom is almost over & I’m thinking of making a spin off of it only for Angus cause I love that man he’s my wildcard in every sense of the word lol. 

I love writing main character x OCs so i have an excuse to run around in all my favorite worlds as different personas!

[livwritesstuff]

thanks for the tag @cheeky-undead <3 <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

55 (according to AO3)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

435,923 good lord

3. What fandoms do you write for?

used to write for legends of tomorrow (rip) and now it's literally just steddie (and ronance when the inspiration strikes)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

if we're only talking stranger things (bc tbh i don't really wanna talk LoT lol):

i want your guy (to know)

swing, sucker, swing

plant a seed (we'll watch it grow)

honeydew (you love me, well)

don't look back, love (there's a million people)

5. Do you respond to comments?

yep i try my best to reply to all of them

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i'm not really one for angst tbh (writing it, anyway, i LOVE reading it). Angstiest overall is probably Covered in the Colors (LoT soulmate au w/an unhappy ending). For ST it's probably hold on (hold you)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

tbh most of my series The Satellite and the Sky has happy endings, but I guess that depends on your definition of "happy". plant a seed (we’ll watch it grow) is probably the happiest ending overall.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not very often these days -- i don't think it's ever happened during my time writing for the ST fandom bc i think there's been a shift in awareness that leaving hate comments on fic is generally really shitty and that individuals are ultimately responsible for curating their online experience

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I personally am not a smut writer. idk why but i always run into weird blockers whenever i try

10. Do you write crossovers?

not at the moment

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so -- come to think of it, I should probably being checking in on that every now and then

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

not that i'm aware of

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope - not opposed to it except that I move at a glacial pace when it comes to writing and I don't want to put that burden on anyone else lol

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

ooh fav of all time? idk i’m not really a multi-shipper to be honest. i usually get really into one ship for a while until my interest runs dry. longest running would probably be captain canary from legends of tomorrow, but i see myself ranting about all the ronance missed opportunities for a Long Time

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

i have bits and pieces of a hadestown au for steddie that i sincerely doubt will ever see the light of day bc I'm so genuinely intimidated by it. that musical is so so good and I couldn't write anything that came even close

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think i’m pretty good at making things feel real. i’m a planner and a bit of an over-thinker so i really like the small details. i also tend to lean on writing what i know which i think helps

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have a hard time sticking to just one tense lol i don’t know what that's about.

i’m also a pretty literal thinker so tapping into metaphors and abstract ideas is still a challenge for me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

there are stronger soldiers than me out there who can do this. generally speaking, i like to write what i know. english is the only language i have total fluency in so if i wanted to write dialogue in another language, i'd have to rely on google translate which is obviously not accurate at all (not for conversational dialogue anyway), and I think some realism slips there

19. First fandom you wrote for?

not sure if it counts, but i used to write little self-insert harry potter stories when i was in elementary school before i even knew that fic was a thing. i think my first published fic would have been for glee (again, rip)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

tbh I think just like honey (you make me melt) is my fav. I had never written Eddie's POV up to that point and I was really nervous going into it, but something about writing from his perspective made it easier for me to face some of my writing challenges

i also had SO much fun writing my tommy pov i want your guy (to know)

[yanban-san]

I love your eldritch abomination AU so much!

When darling eventually ends up bonding with Ingo and Emmet and becoming a bit eldritch themselves (if that’s what ends up happening) I would assume that they take on characteristics of both twins.

Now the logical conclusion of that is of course, gray- but consider:

White scales and black feathers

The answer of what Darling becomes is a bit too unique for me to write well, I fear- Because Darling would get some funky weirdness going on, but it would be unique to the individual person.

Eldritch beings can be incomprehensible, non euclidean hypercubes from the nth dimension, or they can be the scary shadow figures in the corner of your vision-

They can sometimes look like words on a page, or patterns in a wallpaper. They can be as ghostly as the wind or as a solid as a block of steel-

They can be many, they can be few- They can be one, or perhaps there is none- Just an empty husk of something, like a machine-

But for You, dear reader-

What would you imagine yourself becoming?

Their power is heavily influenced by thoughts- Wishes and dreams-

So if you were to think something would happen, then- Well, by their power-

It might just be.

Personally if I do write Eldritch'd Darling- I'd imagine they stay pretty much entirely human, but personality wise they start finding themselves... acting different.

You don't particular care to hang out with friends as much.

Time seems to be moving... faster, or slower- You can't decide. It feels like just yesterday it was last month, or that this hour has been going on all day. People talk to you- Or at least, you think so. Their mouths are certainly moving- And everything seems oddly... dull. Yet wonderful at the same time. The world as a whole is less of what you live in and more of a curiosity- Like some beautifully crafted stained glass that you're admiring, and will pass by anytime soon.

Darling may take on some characteristics of their soul-bound beloveds. Despite the dullness of so many things, you love other things you never noticed so very much now. Spring comes and you're elated to see the budding of new life, fascinated to watch a pidove nest of eggs hatch outside Gear Station- Emmet's watching with you, enraptured.

When time stretches on, you aren't bothered by it. Even if the minute dragged on for a thousand years, it's only a minute- And it will eventually end. You flip between being oddly patient- And horribly impatient. Ingo comforts you- Reminding you that everything has it's time, no matter how long it must take.

"When do I start turning into a cool monster like you guys?"

Ingo looked up at you, you being seated in his lap- It was their favorite way to hold you. "Whatever do you mean, Dear?"

"You said I'd... have... some changes after you did that soul-bond thing- But to be honest, I just feel a little... weird."

Ingo's hand went up to your face, brushing back the edges of your hair. "You mean you thought you'd... turn into... something like myself, or like brother-?"

"I mean, a little bit." You said- Trying not to sound too disappointed. Ingo sighed, yet his eyes- Were oddly dark. To take away your humanity- All of it- Both of mind and body-

His grip on your waist tightened, his other hand grabbing your head- Lightly, yet firmly. The shadows about him gathered dark and deep, wispy shades of black smoke trailing from them as they grew long around your dear soulmate-

"Well, my little human-" The voice of the demon rumbling dark and deep-

"Why don't you tell me what you'd like to be?"

[your-average-genshin-enjoyer]

Hiiii! Can i request Shinichi Kudo soulmate au fic with fem s/o? Thank you!

Shinichi x f!Reader soulmate au

warnings: Might be OOC(Out of character), and may have grammar mistakes

a/n: Sorry it took a long time I was out of brain juice on how to write the soulmate story since I'm still early to requests TT And sorry if it turns out bad qwq Feel free to request again if you have any ideas and tysm for requesting! ^^

-

For all his life, Shinichi has never really seen colors in his life. He can't tell what is red, blue, green or any other colors. All because of an unavoidable thing called the soulmate system which he always blame on. He could only count on his friends like Ran or Hattori to know what color he's looking at only when they are available.

Not being able to see colors also adds in more obstacles in his work as a detective since he sometime mix things up because they have the same appearance.

He always seek the thrill of cases to distract him from the annoying monochrome life he lives in, but he sometime failed to do so and ended up trapped in boredom like this day.

There was no cases or book to keep him busy so he was just sitting in his house while fumbling around with his uniform's button.

<- . Shinichi's Pov . ->

" *Sigh* what am I supposed to do now?" I mumbled by myself in pure boredom while changing into a more comfortable clothes.

. . .

"Oh wait, didn't Ran said there's a new cafe near the department store? I think I'll go there for now." I thought while locking my house's door and walking out to the cafe.

"Hey, how did it feel when you first laid eyes on your soulmate?" A random girl ask his friend.

"Colors just burst into my eyes, that's what happened. Like my usual monochrome life I know just fades away only from the sight of his eyes." The girl's friend explained as their voice start to fade away as they walk.

"Interesting, I wonder when that will happened to me. . ." I mumbled in my mind while wondering where I might met my soulmate.

After a few minutes of walking, I finally arrived to the new cafe. A bell rings as I pushed the door open and a staff comes to greet me after the bell ranged.

"Welcome to Beika city's new cafe! would you like a table for one or more people?" The staff asked.

"For one please." I said while following them to my table as they handed the menu.

"Call us if you're ready to order." Said the staff as they walked back to the counter.

My eyes scanned through the menu for a while until one food caught my interest.

I was about to call a staff to order when a grey haired girl in a staff's uniform came to my direction.

"Hello there sir, are you ready to order?" They asked softly.

"Yeah, I'd like to order some ice coffee and a Le. . . ." My words we're cut off as suddenly, the world seems to burst in random colors I've never seen before when my gaze met the grey haired girl's eyes.

The black brick walls turn into what I assumed was red, the plant turn into what I heard was green. And the girl's hair turn from grey to a soft h/c.

" . . . "

". . .mon pie." I said finishing my sentence while the feeling of dumbfounded still lingering in my head.

"I-I see. Uhh, sorry what was your order again?" The girl asked with a slightly flabbergasted manner.

"One ice coffee and one lemon pie." I said as I hand her the menu back.

"Ok, one ice coffee and one lemon pie coming right up. Also, is it fine if we talk after this?" The girl asked while fumbling with the sleeve of her clothes.

"Sure, take your time." I said as I watched the h/c girl disappeared into the kitchen.

A few minutes later the h/c girl arrived with my order as she puts the ice coffee and Lemon pie onto the table while she sits down onto one of the chairs, as a thick presence of awkward silence enveloped us.

"So uhh, did you just move here? I never really seen you around here." I asked to break the silence between us.

"Y-Yeah, I did. I was here to attend highschool while working in this cafe." The girl replied.

"So uhh, are you my soulmate?" The girl asked in a flustered manner.

"I guess I am, what's your name?" I asked the h/c girl.

"I'm Y/n L/n, and you are?"

"Kudo Shinichi, nice to meet you L/n san." I said while drinking my ice coffee.

"Nice to meet you too Kudo san, and no need to call me L/n san, you can just call me Y/n." They said while scratching the back of their neck.

"Then call me Shinichi. What highschool did you attend to?" I asked.

"Teitan highschool, how about you?" Y/n asked back.

"Same as yours." I replied.

"Well that's convenient." Y/n commented happily.

"Yeah, it certainly doe- *RING* " My answer was interrupted by my phone ringing.

"I'm sorry wait a second." I said to Y/n while picking up the call.

"Kudo Shinichi here, who is it?" I asked.

"It's Megure here, you said to inform me if we had any case and we have one at the moment. It seems like a framed suicide." Megure explained.

"Ohh ok, I'll head there now." I said while hanging up the call.

"Sorry, I had a case at the moment. Maybe we can continue our conversation tomorrow?" I ask Y/n.

"I never knew you're a detective." Y/n said amused.

"Oh and sure, how about we continue this conversation at lunch in school?" Y/n offered.

"Ok, sounds good. Later Y/n!" I said while walking away with the lemon pie and ice coffee as I see Y/n waving from the distance.

"Well that was unexpected. . ." I mumbled by myself as I felt a burst of joy from the thought of the experience I had not long ago.

<-finished->

[jimlingss]

I saw that u were taking requests (yey) I'd want like a soulmate au (there are numerous kinds but I want u to have freedom to write what kind u want!) but it's just pure angst 😳😳 it could be any member n possibly an open or no happy ending :] I'm just a sucker for angst n think u would write this so well!

Anonymous said: Yoongi x reader, soul mate au, angsty but happy ending pls cuz I'm sensitive 🥺 maybe both soul mates get a weird tattoo, or hear each others thoughts or something else

Both these requests are asking for soulmate AUs, so I’m compiling them together. But one wants it to be angst city and the other wants a happy ending LOL. Guess we’ll see what happens.

↳ The Soulmate Gift

3.6k || 70% Angst, 30% Fluff || Min Yoongi || Soulmate!AU

Warning: depiction of child abuse

It happens when you’re ten.

They told you it was different for everyone, that it usually started during puberty and it was perfectly normal. But you’re pretty sure it’s not supposed to be like this.

Bang! Bang! Bang! 

You flinch at the noises, the bathroom door quivering against the frame from the pounding on the other side. Your mom shouts, “Get out!”

“Just give me one second!” You look back into the mirror, staring at yourself with seaweed green hair and streaks of bright purple. You look like a clown and you want to cry. 

You don’t run into your mom on your way out, so you go to school with a tattered baseball cap, stuffing all of your hair in it. During the trudge to school with a grumbling stomach, you hold the cap tight against your skull, not letting a single strand loose. You’re nervous on the playground, your other hand coming to grip at your backpack strap. But luckily, no one asks. 

At least not until you’re inside and getting settled into your desk.

“Good morning, class!” Mrs. An struts into the room, beelining towards the front. “Open your books! Tommy, shush!” You try your best to hide beneath your open textbook that’s propped up, but the moment she looks in your direction, she’s already saying, “Y/N, no hats inside.”

You straighten. “Um, my mom—”

“Rules are rules. Take it off,” she commands without leaving room to argue or explain. “This is the last time I’ll repeat myself unless you want detention.”

So you do.

You slip the cap off your head with tears stinging your eyes.

Mrs. An turns to the whiteboard, beginning to write the title for today’s lesson, but a loud gasp from the classmate sitting behind you captures her attention again. She swivels on her feet and her eyes land straight on your head. Everyone’s eyes do. On your stark, fiery red hair.

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment. 

The next thing you know, you’re being dragged by your teacher into the principal's office. From the hall, you can still hear the entire classroom giggling, whispering about you and making a complete ruckus much to Mrs. An’s dismay.

“This is unbelievable!” she howls, hands lifted to the sky. “How could a fifth grader have hair like this?! It’s entirely inappropriate! It’s a complete distraction to the classroom!”

The principal, Mr. Park, hums. His hands are clasped on top of his desk and he calmly asks, “Did your parents dye your hair yesterday, Y/N?”

You slump and mutter, “No.”

He frowns. “Then who did?”

“No one…”

Mrs. An spits, “Then you did it yourself?!”

“No!” Your voice pitches in an attempt to defend yourself and your teeth sink into the bottom of your lip, trying to hold back your tears. You don’t want to get into trouble. “I woke up like this!”

But Mrs. An doesn’t believe you. Her eyes narrow and she scoffs. “How dare you lie to me and the principle?! If you didn’t do it, then who did? It’s against the rules to have anything other than your natural hair colour!” 

Mr. Park sighs lightly. “We’ll just have to contact your mom and speak to her, Y/N.”

Immediately, your eyes widen and you bolt to a stand. “No, please!” you cry out. “Don’t! I’m sorry! I’ll dye it back! I won’t do it ever again!” 

But the man shakes his head. “It’s too late for that.”

Your fist crumples and you deflate. 

Your mom comes in half an hour later, dressed in stained jeans, old boots, and the only clean flannel she has. She’s not happy. You can tell by the look on her face. Even if she smiles and nods her head at the principal, you can see the tick in her eye and the muscle in her cheek twitching.

The moment she looks at you, her eyes become rounded at your crimson hair.

“I had no idea this happened. I’m so sorry for her behaviour. She must’ve gotten her hands onto my dye kits somehow.” She sighs and turns to you. “It won’t happen again. Right, Y/N?”

You nod. “I’m sorry.”

Mr. Park smiles softly. “Not at all. It’s not that big of a deal. Some...teachers around here just adhere more strongly to the rules, so we want to make sure it’s consistent for everyone. It’s a bit of a distraction to her peers, but as long as Y/N comes in tomorrow with more...appropriate hair, it won’t be a problem.”

Afterwards, you’re sent home early. 

Your mom is silent on the walk home. You trail after her, dreading what will happen when you get back. 

The neighbours’ dog barks against the chain link fence, growling and baring their teeth. You flinch, getting closer to the gutter to avoid them. You’re safe when you get to your yard a few steps away and onto the worn, wooden porch that nearly breaks with your mom’s stomps. She kicks a few cigarette buds to the side and opens the squeaky screen door. You swallow hard and follow after her.

The living room is messy with clothes and old pizza boxes on the floor, and the TV is still on in the corner. 

“Mom….mom….I didn’t do it.” 

You drop your backpack, watching her stride towards the kitchen. She opens a drawer as you plead to her, and your voice becomes louder as the silver reflection of sharp scissors catches your eye. “No! Please! I swear I’m not lying!”

It’s useless.

She’s larger, taller, bigger and stronger than you are. 

She comes over and grabs your long hair, yanking it from your head. You cry as she starts to cut. Jagged lines, quick snips, sawing off the strands. A sob breaks through your chest and trying to get away only makes her grip on your hair tighten and she pulls it to get you back.

Mom grits her teeth. “How dare you go behind my back and cause my trouble, you bitch. You stole my dye, didn’t you?! You thief!”

You scream and cry. “I didn’t! I didn’t!” 

She never once notices how your hair returns to its natural colour as it sheds to your feet. That the moment it’s snipped from your head, the blazing red has faded away and lost the colour.

When it’s over, the scissors are tossed on the floor.

You’re left slumped on the ground, in a pool of your own hair. There are bald spots on your scalp while the other side is longer, uneven. What’s left of your head bleeds bright yellow, the colour of sunshine.

The next day, the shade mellows out, almost into a dirty blonde. You hope it’s good enough.

Your mom’s asleep on the sofa, snoring away with the TV still playing in the background. So you make it past her and trudge to school.

Kids are playing on the playground when you get there and you grip your backpack straps as you look on. But you don’t join them. Your feet turn and you duck out of sight, slipping into the school through the side doors. You’re lucky the janitor hasn’t locked them.

You’re not supposed to be inside the building yet, but you hope no one notices. Unluckily, someone turns the corner down the hall. But you breathe a sigh of relief when it’s just Mrs. Jung.

She’s always been nice. 

“Good morning.”

She’s busy tapping on her phone, yet in a chirpy voice, she still exclaims, “Good morning! How are you—”

Mrs. Jung finally looks up and she suddenly stops. 

You don’t know why her face looks like that. Like she’s seen a ghost. Is your hair really that bad? You tried to fix it and you thought it turned out okay.

Mrs. Jung gets closer and then lowers to a kneel in front of you, matching your height. Her shaking hand lifts and she touches the side of your head. You feel her fingertips against your scalp that still stings. You hiss and when you look at her, you see tears in her eyes. You wonder why.

“Who did this?” Her voice is quiet, gentle. 

“Um….I was playing with scissors.” 

Mrs. Jung looks at you again and says, “You’re allowed to tell me, Y/N.” 

You stay quiet, not sure what to tell her, not sure you want to get into any more trouble. If you do and get sent to the principal's office again, who knows what your mom would do then.

But as you’re thinking about it, Mrs. Jung adds on, “No one will get into trouble, I promise.”

She looks into your eyes. 

Your head droops, downcast vision looking at the floor. A quiet mumble escapes— “My mom.”

You’re not sure what happens after that. You’re sure your mom would be enraged if she knew you were talking about her and if you got her into trouble, that would be the worst. But for some reason, you don’t feel scared. Not when Mrs. Jung takes your hand and brings you to her science classroom. 

You sit behind her desk that’s hidden away from the rest of the class by bookshelves and she gives you an apple juice box. You slurp it up — you haven’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch.

When you peek out, you see Mrs. Jung talking to another teacher in the hall. Soon after, the principle comes to visit you. He has the same expression as Mrs. Jung did and asks you if your mom’s done something like this before. 

That day, your grandma picks you up from school. It’s a pleasant surprise. You’ve always liked your grandma but your mom never let her visit much. She hugs you tight.

The colour of your hair is a warm shade of gray.

...

Mrs. Jung takes you on a one-on-one special field trip on Sunday. She picks you up from Grandma’s house after you’ve had your favourite for breakfast: sunny-side up eggs. She drives you to the clinic and the female doctor hits your knee, making it bounce. The doctor also measures how tall you are, shines a light in your eye and asks if green is your favourite colour.

You see in the wall mirror that your head’s turned into a teal shade. You tell her no.

Half an hour later, you’re put in a machine that flashes lots of colours. They reassure you but you’re not scared. The vivid hues and mosaic of shades that blur past your eyes are pretty.

When it’s done, the doctor holds a clipboard while sitting next to the computer. Your legs swing from the edge of the examination table as you’re situated comfortable on the plush seat. 

“It’s as I initially suspected, the hair is her soulmate gift. It changes colour based on her soulmate’s emotions.”

Mrs. Jung frowns. “I’ve never heard of something like that before.”

“Yes, well, it’s much more rare. Only point zero six experience a hair quirk.” The doctor looks from Mrs. Jung to you then back at her again. “Typically, as you know, soulmate gifts come in the form of names tattooed into skin or even countdowns of when the person would meet their soulmate, but soulmate gifts can take all kinds of different shapes and forms. Luckily, this shouldn’t affect her too much aside from, obviously, her hair changing color. Kids usually receive their gift around puberty, but looks like she’s an early bloomer.”

The doctor briefly smiles at you and then rolls on her chair towards her desk. “She’s also malnourished, but I believe with the proper nutrition, she’ll be able to recover. We should book another appointment in a few months to keep an eye on that and the hair.”

When the trip to the clinic is over, Mrs. Jung brings you to the mall.

You look around with wide eyes at all the clothes in the windows, but she eventually stops in front of a particular store and kneels in front of you. Her eyes lock into yours and she takes your hand.

“Y/N, you understand what the doctor told you, right?”

“Yeah. My hair’s my soulmate gift.” You had guessed it was that anyway. 

Mrs. Jung nods with a smile. “Yes, you’ve always been a smart girl.”

She strokes your head affectionately and says, “I know you might not feel it now, but it really is a gift. Your soulmate is the one meant for you, your other half. They’re the one who can make you even happier. It’s both a blessing and a privilege to have. But it’s also okay if you hate it. You don’t have to like your soulmate gift,” she reassures. “If one day, you’re more comfortable with your hair, then that would be good. But it’s also okay if you’re not. It’s up to you.”

You nod after a moment.

Mrs. Jung smiles. “We’re gonna go into that wig shop, okay? You can pick two that you like and I’ll help you get it.”

Picking out wigs is more fun than you expect. The people there are happy to help and you end up going home with one black, long hair wig and another brown bobbed one that makes you look like Rapunzel after she cut her hair.

...

You only see your mom three times after that.

Once, she comes to your grandma’s house. Your grandma doesn’t let her see you, but you watch them yell at each other on the porch from the upstairs window. The next time is a year later in court. Your mom cries out for you and you tell her you’re sorry. Her hug is so tight, you can barely breathe. 

The last is a visit on your own accord years later. 

The small house you spent your childhood in is falling apart, windows broken, trash in the yard. You find her sitting on the armchair with a hazy expression, TV playing in the corner. She’s in the same exact position as if you never left. You put a blanket over her, but she stirs awake and sees you. She asks to borrow a hundred dollars.

Your mom winds up throwing a dirty plate your way when you give her twenty. It’s all you have on you.

You don’t realize the significance of what Mrs. Jung’s done for you until years later after you’ve long graduated elementary. So you visit her during High School with a thank you card and a bouquet of flowers. She’s gotten old by then, but she still remembers. She cries and hugs you tight. It feels comforting. And her hand brushes against the strands of your baby blue locks.

Grandma helps you grow out your hair again and is one of the people who help you become comfortable in it. By university, you’ve discarded your wigs in favour of your real hair that’s gotten luscious and shiny. Your friends think it's the coolest thing they’ve ever seen and some people approach you to tell you they love it and ask where you got it done. 

You tell them it’s your soulmate gift.

Throughout the years, you pick at the ends of your hair and keep track of its changes in your diary. It becomes a habit to play with your hair, to memorize the shade it morphs to. You find that during the winter seasons, your hair becomes white often. One day, it turns white twenty six times. 

On Valentine’s Day one year, your hair stays solid pink the whole day. And on another, it’s black for an entire week in April. 

You start to hypothesize on the data you collect, noting the frequency of the hair colour changes, of each shade. You suspect hues of yellow signify happiness, reds are anger, blues are sadness, white is when your soulmate is cold. You’re not so sure about the others—

“Y/N.”

Seokjin is leaning on your cubicle as you shut your journal, having recorded your hair turning into a shade of lilac.

“Boss man wants to see you.”

Your eyes widen and you stumble up, pushing your small office chair back. “What for?”

The man shrugs. “Beats me. I wouldn’t worry about it though. It’s not like he’s going to fire you………..right?”

Seokjin grins, but his joke only spurs more nerves on you.

You get to the door, smooth out your pencil skirt and with a deep breath, you knock.

“Come in.”

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Min?” 

You step inside his office, finding him looking into a small table mirror at his desk. He’s peering at his left eye and bats his lash several times. But then he sets the mirror down and looks at you.

“Yes, please take a seat.”

You clear your throat and sit in the chair across from him. The mirror is propped up in your direction, and you notice how your hair turns into a shade of monotone gray. It starts at the roots, bleeding downwards until all the strands have altered completely.

You pipe up, “If this is about the Jeon files, sir, I already redid them.”

“No, that’s not it.” He rubs his left eye that’s watering and then blinks. “Actually, I wanted to have a conversation about this for a while. Joy was supposed to talk to you about this, but she’s busy at the moment.”

Joy from HR. 

You’re immediately on alert. “Yes, sir.”

 Mr. Min says, “It’s about your hair.”

Oh.

He rubs his eye and then clasps his hands together on top of his desk. “Recently, we received a customer complaint that your hair was unprofessional.”

“It’s my soulmate gift.”

“Yes. I know. You mentioned it during your interview. But it still could be considered a distraction in the workplace.”

The word ‘distraction’ has a muscle by your brow jumping. It makes you practically bristle as déjà vu washes over you. But you aren’t ten anymore. You don’t have to be afraid.

You straighten. “With all due respect, I don’t think it’s a requirement for me to have to change my hair. This is out of my control….sir.”

Suddenly, your hair turns a faint hue of red.

Mr. Min’s brow raises as if he didn’t expect you to be so difficult. “It’s part of the rules to have business appropriate attire in the office.”

“Attire yes, but there is nothing referring to hair,” you quietly assert.

His jaw shifts and he leans back into his seat. “Well, we’ll have to confirm if that’s true with HR—”

“I already did,” you interrupt him with a meek smile and as an afterthought, you add, “sir.”

Your hair turns a stronger shade of red. From pastel to a raspberry. Your pupils flicker to the mirror on his desk and your brows furrow as you notice it.

Mr. Min breaks you out of your trance and you redirect your attention to him again. “Is it impossible to make it less of a distraction?” he asks while rubbing his eye that’s tearing up again.

“If it becomes a requirement for me to wear wigs to work every day and not an expectation for others, sir, then the company should pay for it, put it on for me each morning and help me maintain it.” Your hair turns a stronger shade of red — crimson — as Mr. Min rubs his eye more incessantly. You add, “With all due respect, I don’t consider my hair a distraction at all. It is out of my control and it isn’t my fault if others are distracted. It has to do with their attention span.”

He stands. “That’s enough.”

At the same time, from his watered eye, you see something fall out. 

You point. “Umm, sir…”

“Shit,” he mutters underneath his breath and looks to the carpet. You stand there for a delayed second before deciding to help him. You round his desk and descend to the ground where he is. All he says is, “It’s a contact lens.”

It’s a surprise to you considering you didn’t know he wore them.

But you quickly spot the transparent half-sphere. “Oh, it’s over there. By your foot.”

Mr. Min frowns. “Where?”

He looks up to see where you’re pointing. Your faces are inches away and instantly your eyes widen. A quiet gasp leaves your lungs. Not because of your close proximity but because Mr. Min’s iris is a fading red. And as confusion takes you, it morphs into a shade of gray.

Blooming outwards from his pupil, colour swirling into place.

“Your eye…” you murmur.

He mumbles, “It’s a soulmate gift.”

Yoongi grabs the brown colour contact lens, cursing at how it’s gotten dirty. But before he can get up, your hands latch onto his wrist, fingers digging into his skin and you tell him, “Wait.”

“What?”

There’s an unquenchable thirst to test the hypothesis that’s dawned upon you. 

So when your hair starts to turn into gray as well, you surge forward on sheer intuition. And you kiss your boss, Min Yoongi. Your lips press against his, enough to register how soft and velvet his mouth is, long enough to feel his vanilla chapstick transfer onto your lips. But it’s a chaste peck. Shy and hesitant. And you pull away just as quickly.

Yoongi falls back on his butt with eyes nearly falling out of their sockets.

Immediately, you look over to the mirror on his desk. Your hair is turning from gray to red with faint streaks of cotton candy pink. 

You gaze back at Yoongi to find his iris is peony pink.

“D-Did you just kiss me?!”

“Umm, sir, with all due respect, I believe you’re my soulmate.”

The words to dawn upon him. For the first time, your strands of hair morphs into a soft, pastel pink and his irises match the same shade.

[tsarisfanfiction]

3. 14. J. U. 🙃

Sorry this is a bit late, rl slammed me kinda hard last weekend...

I'll admit I'm guessing which numbered ones you're referencing because there were two numbered lists on the same day, oops, but as one of them needed a specific fic referenced I'm hoping I've got the right list!

3) Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Hmm... there are a few tropes around that I'm less fond of - ABO springs to mind immediately, as well as coffee shop AUs - but honestly I am a big fan of deconstructing and twisting tropes so if given the incentive and requisite curiosity of "I wonder how this would go if..." I don't think there's any trope that I would say I'd never write (I once said I'd never write a genderbend, then one happened, so...) I'm less likely to write most romance-based tropes, though, mostly because romance isn't something I generally enjoy writing quite so much.

14) What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Oof, that's a hard one. There's quite a few I ignore for one reason or another, mostly because I've reached the point where I write how I write and throwing something different into the equation is just gonna mess me up, but I wouldn't necessarily say they're bad because what works (or not) for me doesn't mean it doesn't (or does) work for someone else. We're all unique people, our minds work in unique ways, and different tips and tricks therefore work on all of us.

One that has screwed me over a few times though is "write at least x words a day". "x" varies, but for me I find that if I can't write that day, trying to force it just makes me hate everything, and then I feel guilty for not writing anything at all and it can take me a while to kick myself out of that and remind myself it's supposed to be a hobby. It's not a requirement, or a chore. This isn't school, or a job. This is something I do in my free time and I shouldn't force it.

J:  What’s your favourite fanfic trope?  Have you written it?

Back in the trope questions again, I see. I should admit that I'm actually bad at these because I can never actually identify "tropes" on demand, if that makes sense. I know a few core ones, but for the most part it's more "what sort of thing do I like?" and yes, I definitely write what I like! Caretaker needing to be taken care of is top of the list, probably, and anyone who reads my stuff will be very familiar with that creeping in!

That being said, if I had to pick a trope I haven't yet written but would like to experiment with one day... Soulmark AUs. They fascinate me, although (like Hanahaki Disease, another one I love to read) there's a prevalence of it being romantic soulmates in almost all the fics I've read, and I have a definite preference for platonic soulmates. But then again, I managed to write a familial Hanahaki, so maybe one day I'll manage to write a soulmark AU that fits both the trope and my own desire for more platonic/familial love fics taking centre stage.

U: Is there a pairing you would like to write, but haven’t tried yet.

Eh, if I'm honest I'm less fussed about writing ships and more platonic pairings, or ones that could fall either way (see: CaeJose from JJBA, which is a fandom I have yet to write for at all). And when we look at platonic relationships, oh there's so many I'd love to dabble in at some point.

That being said, I have just remembered one bizarre One Piece kinda crackship I came up with a few years ago and thought that I might write it but so far haven't... (it was gonna be a Wano arc AU and I thought it up before Wano happened... we're now the other side and needless to say "AU" doesn't even start to cover it ahaha)

Oh, and how could I forget Kaito/Aoko from Detective Conan/Magic Kaito. Admittedly I have something half-baked sat in my drafts so technically I have written something for them, but I've not finished anything worth posting for them. Then again, I've also yet to write any Shinichi/Ran or Heiji/Kazuha, either.

40 Questions — Meme for Fic Writers

Fanfic Writer Ask Meme

[welllpthisishappening]

Hi, not a WIP question, but I always see you tagging stuff with "stupid witch fic inspo" and stuff like that. Which of your fics is the "stupid witch fic"? I thought I'd read most of them, but I think I may have missed one.

I hope you know what you've started with this question, because it's going to get me talking about one of my absolute favorite, entirely self-indulgent subjects. That's right! It's time to talk about All Was Golden in the Sky!

Once upon a time (or more like: February 2019) I saw a writing prompt that was something along the lines of: you're sitting outside your apartment because you've been locked out or sexiled or something like that and someone's coming up after making a late-night snack run and then you fall in love. That was the basic gist. The specifics aren't important. What is important was that my brain was like WRITE THAT, NOW. I had already signed up for @cssns at that point and, in fact, had already written a story. (it was All the Subliminal Things, that's got soulmates) But I am who I am as a person and was like I'm going to WRITE THAT, NOW. So, I started writing what was, at the time, a pretty modern witch fic. With Emma as the witch. And Killian as like—totally in love with her. From the get. Hence the tag. And I kept writing. Few chapters in between covering state basketball tournaments.

E X C E P T

As previously discussed, I am who I am as a person, so, #ThatStupidWitchFic sort of—exploded. Into something that was no longer a straight modern AU with Emma as a witch. Sorry, everyone this was not the modern AU it was supposed to be. It's because I could not figure out how Emma and Killian would get initially separated without something DRASTIC happening. So I did something drastic. Basically I retooled my entire plot, realized I'd written myself into an explanation without entirely meaning to and, suddenly, #ThatStupidWitchFicInspo became a tag that made very little sense. In that it is just an absolute mess of gif sets and art and All Was Golden in the Sky became one of my favorite things I have ever written. Like, ever. If you haven't read it (please, read it), the pretty long story includes:

Super powerful, decidedly magical Emma

A Killian who's like FOLLOW THAT LADY ANYWHERE? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP

Prophecy

Magical families that are not-so-secretly based on the Hargreeves from the Umbrella Academy

Scenes written entirely to the credits song from Pocahontas, If I Never Knew You

Flashback scenes set...not in the modern world

Strong New York City opinions

The sentence THAT'S LOVE, DICK (which might be the greatest sentence I've ever written, honestly)

Will-Belle-Killian triangle of friendship supremacy

A whole Arendelle subplot that, yes, absolutely had to happen

Sword fights

Another Neverland subplot that I'm also pretty proud of in that it's kind of freaky and magic stuff happens

(There's a twist. I wrote myself into it. The twist includes more sword fights.)

SWOON-WORTHY ROMANCE IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF

Ariel-Killian brotp that spawned a nearly 50K spinoff

Potential for a sequel that I really may write for the approximately 27 people who enjoyed this story (shout out to @shireness-says and @optomisticgirl who both championed writing the self-indulgent spinoff, and @distant-rose who read the whole story in basically a day and then made glorious cover art and @searchingwardrobes who also made art for the story.)

When I tell you that I had the best time writing this, I am not exaggerating. If Blue Line is my fandom heart, then this is, like, my self-indulgent soul. It's fantasy and romance and a quasi-road trip and there's a seeress and Rumplestilskin and a DRAGON and pretty much every single character mentioned on Once Upon a Time. I love it. I still add stuff to the tag for that maybe-sequel I will probably write and then never post.

[asroarke]

Can you give a director's commentary on "Alone Together"? I'd love to hear your thought process in writing it, Bellamy's thoughts the night he found out Clarke was his soul mate, how you chose this premise, etc.

Sure!

Essentially, the premise for the story came directly from Lost Souls. Because that soulmate AU was entirely from Clarke’s POV, I never got to explore what it would be like for Bellamy to know the entire time that Clarke is his soulmate but not be able to tell her, so I decided to flip their places for Alone Together and switch up enough of the premise so that it was still a new story. I got the idea for Bellamy’s soulmark situation a few years ago when I read through a whole list of soulmate AU ideas and stumbled onto one where Person A never sees their soulmark because they lose their arm in an accident before it ever shows up and that made me think about other ways a soulmark could be blocked from view. Because I like exploring mental health and find it cathartic for myself to do that, I chose the self harm route. Plus, I was thinking about Bellamy’s “slay your demons” mantra from season one. I think key difference between Alone Together and Lost Souls is how they both approach their soulmark. Clarke avoids dealing with it at all costs, and it haunts her. Bellamy decides to take action instead of being scared of it his whole life as a way to slay his demons, but as he grows older and learns more about it, the question of whether or not he made the right decision haunts him. I think of the two works as being a pair for this reason, two sides of the same soulmate AU coin and all that. They aren’t the same story, but they came from the same concept and I loved getting to navigate how Bellamy and Clarke act differently in the flipped circumstances. And I love how flipping the script inspired such different stories.

As for the night Bellamy finds out, I may never get around to writing an alternate POV for that part because I’ve had problems with those in the past, but if I did, it would be a journey. The whole soulmate thing has been weighing on him ever since that night at the art show. Why doesn’t he know who her soulmate is? Why is she hiding it from him? Initially, the thought of Clarke having a soulmate breaks his heart because it’s like a clock counting down to the moment that he loses this girl he’s falling hard and fast for. That’s what happened with Echo, after all. Then, he jumps to the conclusion that the only reason she would hide it is because she’s scared of her soulmate. Maybe she knows them and they hurt her. Wells telling Bellamy that she wants to remove her soulmark seems to confirm that theory. There’s a selfish part of him that wants her to remove it because then he won’t be all alone in this. She’d be like him. And maybe he wouldn’t lose her to someone else then. But that selfish part of him is drowned out by the same fear that took hold of him as a child because if there is someone out there who hurt Clarke, Bellamy needs to know who it is.

As he interrogates drunk Clarke to get to the bottom of it, she says her soulmate doesn’t want her. It breaks his heart, and he feels himself bubbling up with rage at whoever her soulmate is for being so stupid. They have Clarke as a soulmate and they don’t want her? She falls asleep, and now he has a decision to make. There’s no longer a safety imperative for finding out who her soulmate is. He can’t ethically look at it and claim it was just so he could help protect her from whoever it is. But he wants to know, and she’s never going to tell him. So, he pushes up her sleeve and looks. And there is his name.

Slowly, the pieces click together. Why did she keep this a secret? Instantly, he realizes it’s because she knows the story of why he removed his soulmark and doesn’t want to be the soulmate he’s so terrified of. But then, he’s mad because he’s not a small child anymore and could handle this. Bellamy stays mad for a while and fumes out in the living room, but every time he tries to figure out why exactly he’s mad, it’s undermined by the wave of affection he feels when he remembers that Clarke was trying to protect him. So, he goes over their entire friendship, starting with the day they met at the coffee shop and Clarke would have recognized his name. The scar he showed her would have been enough to make her cautious about telling him who she is to him. All the hiding makes sense now. He replays her drunken words from earlier and realizes that Clarke is getting her mark removed because of him, because she doesn’t want to be the soulmate that he so blatantly declares that he doesn’t want, not realizing that the reason Bellamy doesn’t want a soulmate is because he has her. She thinks he doesn’t want her, and any frustration he has at their predicament fades away because he has to correct that. Because he loves her, soulmate or not.

So, they have their little talk when she wakes up. And Bellamy feels a weight lifted off him. Not just the one that had been building because he didn’t know who Clarke’s soulmate is, but also the one that had been there since the day he removed his mark and thought he killed off any chance of finding his soulmate. He found her, and she’s not the kind of monster that his mother’s soulmate was. He’s okay.

The choice to get the tattoo of her name on the other wrist is his way of accepting soulmates on his own terms. He’s choosing Clarke, choosing to be her soulmate and choosing her to be his. It’s the choice he wanted all along.

come ask me for “director’s commentary” from one of my fics

[megarowlet]

Think Me Beautiful

A Yuri!!! on Ice Fanfiction

Pairing: Viktuuri Summary: Some people's words give them a hint as to who their soulmate is. Some can tell just based on the timing of the words' appearance on their skin. Viktor's soulmate could be anyone around the world who watched his winning Junior World Championships skate broadcast when he was 16. And over a decade later, he still has no idea who they could be. Read at: ffnet / AO3

AU where words appear on your arm saying the first thing your soulmate thinks about you when they see you for the first time. I added a mechanic where the words naturally fade over time but continue to respond to touch: appearing when the owner touches the skin there, disappearing when the soulmate touches it. Because Plot Device™ and also because people like me would never wear short sleeves again if the words were always visible. 

Original Prompt

Translated into Chinese

Viktor was 16 when he received his words. The thrill of competition made him not realize it for a while, but as he got changed out of his costume after winning gold at the Junior World Championships, he noticed a slight itchy feeling on his left arm and found his skin marked by a line of words written neatly in his own handwriting: "Wow, he's amazing. Beautiful." The thoughts of his soulmate seeing him for the first time, written on the soft skin of his forearm.

Viktor didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Finally, he had a soulmate, but that soulmate could be any of millions of skating fans around the world who'd watched his performance. Others' words often served as clues so they could find each other; of course Viktor wouldn't be so lucky.

So he decided to keep the words hidden. Words naturally faded with time, only reappearing when one passed their hand over them, the touch revealing the markings. So Viktor just never touched that part of his arm. Not in his choreography, not for curious reporters, not even in front of inquiring rinkmates. His soulmate could be anyone, so Viktor showed his words to no one.

As he got older, the media speculated. Viktor, have you received your words? Viktor, is there a reason you're hiding your soulmate? Viktor, is the reason you refuse to reveal your words because you don't have a soulmate? Viktor, Viktor, Viktor.

He ignored all of them with a wink and a smile. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. I prefer to keep that my own business. It's much more fun that way, isn't it?"

He kept his fans close, flirting indiscriminately. His soulmate would be able to find him, he figured. Surely, they'd come find him. If he interacted with everyone who approached him, aggressively thinking his name at them, eventually one of them was bound to be his soulmate. Right?

A decade passed.

Viktor threw himself into skating to stave off the loneliness. But he was getting old for a competitive figure skater, and no matter how many gold medals he won or how many fans he greeted, he couldn't find his soulmate. Some had approached him, sure, but in the end it was obvious their words were the thoughts of someone who wasn't Viktor.

"I'm thinking of retiring after this season," he told Yakov during warmups before the Grand Prix Finals one year.

Yakov shot him a sharp glare. "You're skating the short program in a little while; keep your mind on your program."

Viktor took a long swig of water and handed the bottle back to Yakov. "I can multitask, you know."

"No you can't. Hurry and finish warming up. And don't think about useless things. We can talk about it once the finals are over."

"Yes, yes," Viktor said, heading back out to the rink. He ran through part of his step sequence, jumped a clean triple loop. He felt the cameras following him, knowing that his every movement, every nuance of his facial expression was being analyzed by announcers around the world. He was, after all, Viktor Nikiforov. And Viktor always put on the perfect show.

A loud yelp came from the wall, and Viktor turned to see one of his competitors land on his butt, his coach on the other side of the wall clearly surprised. The same skater had done a gorgeous step sequence only moments ago while Viktor was taking a drink, and Viktor trained his eye on the skater's jacket to try and recognize who they were. It was his first time seeing a Japanese skater at the Grand Prix in several years. The country had sort of fallen off Viktor's radar for a bit, but he might have to start paying attention again. Good for Japan.

The Japanese skater's coach seemed to be Celestino, who was fussing over him in English. "Yuuri, what happened? Why did you suddenly— Wait, did you just get your words?!"

Now that got the attention of everyone on the rink. The entire group of skaters stopped and turned to stare. Murmurs echoed among the audience who peered curiously to see what was happening on the ice.

Viktor felt a vague pang near his heart as he remembered his own words. Hopefully this skater would be more lucky than Viktor was, though he really didn't envy the way the skater's words appeared so publicly. Viktor was sort of glad it had taken him so long to notice his own; the attention he'd have gotten if such vague words were shown publicly was something he'd worked hard to avoid.

"Congratulations, Yuuri!" Chris called from behind Viktor. Viktor looked at him as he skated by.

"You know him?" he asked.

Chris stopped and turned. "Yeah, Yuuri Katsuki, the top skater from Japan. Really, Viktor, there's a limit to how ignorant you can be of your own competition. A privilege of being the best, I suppose."

"My attentions have been elsewhere his season," Viktor admitted. He'd been absorbed in his own loneliness and self-pity lately as his age crept up on him. It was pathetic, he knew, but so long as he kept winning gold it didn't matter what he spent his free time doing. If he spent his time moping around in his apartment alone with Makkachin, then so be it.

Back with Katsuki, it seemed he'd gotten over his shock somewhat and was talking to the others gathered around him. The auditorium was buzzing with excitement, but a hush came over the crowd as everyone's ears strained to hear the words this skater had received on live television before an international competition.

At the prodding of his coach and the other skaters, in careful English, he read them aloud, face burning: "Haven't seen him around before. Nice step sequence. He's beautiful."

Viktor's heart dropped to his stomach. No. No way. Right? There was no way. Sure, he'd noticed Katsuki a few minutes ago while observing his competitors' warmups and thought pretty much the same thing, but those words could've been thought by anyone. It wasn't him. He wouldn't get his hopes up.

Beside him, he could hear Chris trying to talk to him, but he didn't register a single word. His eyes could only see Yuuri Katsuki. His ears could only hear Katsuki's frantic stuttering about how those words could've been anyone, it didn't mean anything.

"Viktor, so you did get your words," Chris said, and Viktor realized he'd pulled up his jacket sleeve and had been been absently rubbing at his forearm. The words were clearly visible thanks to that, the Russian much neater now that Viktor was older and his handwriting more legible, but otherwise exactly the same.

"Ah, I…yeah. Many, many years ago," Viktor said.

"What's it say? You've always been so secretive about it."

"It says that I'm amazing. And beautiful."

Chris whistled. "High praise."

"I noticed it after my Junior World Championships win. It could be anyone who watched the Championships, so I didn't want to talk about it publicly."

"Knowing how some of your fans are, not a bad idea. Why'd you show them now? You know some fan with a camera already has closeups. Feeling more open about it now that Yuuri got his like this?"

"No, I just…" Viktor frowned, not wanting to voice that traitorous hope squirming in his stomach. Yes, he was secretly hoping his soulmate was a man, but that didn't mean he had to pin his hopes on the first guy whose words seemed remotely plausible as having come from Viktor. It was mostly women who approached him, so he was getting a little overexcited. That was all.

Meanwhile, Chris seemed to be piecing together the reason for Viktor's distracted state. "Viktor, don't tell me you…"

"Don't get my hopes up," Viktor snapped, turning to Chris angrily. "Please."

Chris just grinned, a slow smile that crept across his face. "Holy shit. Holy fucking shit."

"Chris, just because it's similar to what I thought…I mean, it's not possible, it's been a decade, I don't think—"

"Viktor, oh my god."

"Viktor got his, too? Today's warmups are just full of surprises," JJ said, skating over and peering curiously at Viktor's arm.

"A long time ago," Viktor said hurriedly, hiding them under his sleeve. "They're really old."

"JJ, you've talked to Yuuri before, right? Didn't he become a fan of Viktor after the Junior World Championships?" Chris said.

JJ shrugged. "I wouldn't know. We're not close."

"Chris, that doesn't mean anything."

"But it might. Yuuri's words are what you thought about him, right?"

"Chris…"

"Hey, Yuuri!"

Viktor let out a long sigh. He was really hoping to keep the whole soulmate issue private until he'd sorted it out himself. So much for that.

Viktor watched as Chris sidled up to Katsuki, whispering things into his ear. Katsuki protested vehemently, but Chris's pushiness won in the end, and soon Katsuki was being propelled toward Viktor as the whole auditorium and probably the entire skating community worldwide watched with increasing fervor.

Chris was grinning ear to ear. "Viktor, meet your #1 fan. Became a world-class figure skater chasing you. Isn't that right, Yuuri?"

"Chris!" Katsuki protested. He turned to Viktor, face flushed and panicked. "I'm Katsuki Yuuri. Err, Yuuri Katsuki. You inspired me a lot growing up, so I'm a fan. It's really so nice to meet you."

Viktor's eyes landed on the Japanese writing on Katsuki's arm. When Katsuki noticed Viktor staring, he subtly turned his arm to hide it.

"Chris, what you're saying is impossible," Katsuki muttered, gripping his left arm tightly.

"You never know until you try, right? Viktor over here seemed pretty shaken when you read your words aloud."

"Viktor doesn't have his words, though," Katsuki protested. He looked cautiously at Viktor. "…right?"

His heart pounding, Viktor pulled his track suit sleeve back up, revealing the words he'd rubbed into visibility only a minute ago. "They appeared the day of my Junior World Championship win. It says I'm amazing and beautiful. It could've been anybody."

Viktor didn't miss the way Katsuki's expression shifted. "Chris, he's right. That could've been anyone. I don't even remember what I thought back then, only that he was—" He stopped himself. "Anyway, it could've been anyone, not just me!"

"But it also could've been you," Chris said. "And Viktor here," Chris pointed at Viktor, "seems to have noticed you for the first time by watching your step sequence just now. Why he didn't know who you were until today is another issue entirely, but if those words on your arm are exactly the same as his thoughts upon seeing you for the first time, it's worth a try, right?"

"You're trying way too hard to play matchmaker, Chris," JJ said. "Let them figure it out themselves."

"What? Apparently Viktor's been keeping his words secret for over a decade, so he's not going to make the first move, and I know Yuuri well enough not to trust him to take initiative either. I'm just helping two friends out."

"Thanks, Chris, but I really don't think it's necessary," Katsuki said quietly. He looked up at Viktor with wide, sad, yet hopeful eyes. Viktor's pulse quickened. If it were anyone else, Viktor would have thought him ordinary, but for some reason this man was almost too attractive for Viktor to handle. Maybe it was just Chris's words getting to him, but he felt drawn to the skater in front of him. But it couldn't be, right?

Slowly, Viktor readjusted his sleeve, pushing it the rest of the way past his elbow so it stayed clear of his words, and held out his left arm as if offering a handshake. Since it had come to this, might as well make the leap.

"Want to try?"

Katsuki's eyes widened. He scrambled to push his own sleeve back. "S-sure," he said, voice shaking.

Viktor's heart pounded in his ears as he and Katsuki gripped each other's arms below the elbow and slowly pulled back, sliding their hands down to the wrist.

"No fucking way," JJ whispered.

Viktor felt tears start to fall.

Yuuri's touch had wiped away the words on Viktor's arm, as Viktor's had for Yuuri's.

"Viktor…" Yuuri mumbled, staring in awe at their bare arms. He grabbed Viktor's hands and forced him to reveal his words again. Then Yuuri's own hand wiped them away. Again and again.

"Congrats, Viktor, Yuuri," Chris said, self-satisfied grin on his face. "Looks like you two found your soulmates."

"Yuuri!" Viktor cried, leaping at Yuuri and throwing his arms around him. "Why did you never approach me? Why did I never see you? I'm so sorry, Yuuri. I'm so sorry."

"Viktor…" Yuuri's hands hesitantly patted Viktor's back.

"This is so great. I'm so glad. I finally found you. I finally found you." He squeezed Yuuri tightly, then pushed back to look into his eyes. "I'm not going to go easy on you today just because we're soulmates, though."

"I-I wasn't expecting you to," Yuuri said, surprised. He smiled. "I won't go easy on you, either," he said.

Viktor beamed. "That's my Yuuri!"

Chris thumped Yuuri on the back, and he stumbled into Viktor's arms. "Neither will I. You're up first, aren't you, Yuuri? Warmups are basically over, so I hope you're ready."

"Oh god," Yuuri whispered, reality setting in quickly. During all this excitement, the clock had been ticking.

Viktor pulled him into a tight hug. "I believe in you, Yuuri. I haven't paid much attention to my competitors recently, I'll admit, but your skating earlier caught my eye more than anyone else here."

"That's just because we're s…soulmates," Yuuri said.

Viktor frowned. "Hmm, I wonder."

"Viktor!" It was Yakov. "Viktor, get off the ice! I don't care what happened with your words, I expect you to be focused and win today. Got it? Warmups are over, get over here!"

Viktor released Yuuri. "My coach is calling me. Good luck, Yuuri."

Yuuri nodded, still seeming a little shell-shocked by the turn of events. "Yeah. Thanks. Uh, you too."

Viktor beamed brilliantly.

"Vitya!"

"Oops! See you on the podium, okay?" He winked, relishing in the way Yuuri blushed. Honestly, he should've watched broadcasts of the other competitions instead of being so absorbed in his own mind. Just because he'd never skated on the same ice as Yuuri before didn't give him an excuse to have never noticed this adorably handsome man. All these years, he'd been missing out on so much!

"Viktor!" Yuuri's voice called out behind him, and he turned with a smile. Yuuri had composed his expression, a fierce determination in his eyes. Viktor's heart skipped a beat. Oh. "Please watch me," Yuuri said. Then he'd turned and headed back to his coach for some last words before his turn on the ice.

Viktor watched after him a moment before finally heeding Yakov's increasingly irritated shouts. He'd been distancing himself from his competitors recently, caught up in his own mind, but now that Yuuri had drawn his attention, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to look away.

He looked at the words on his arm, simple compliments he'd spent many hours staring at over the years, now filled with new meaning. He pressed his lips to his forearm, ignoring Yakov's lecturing at his side.

"Nice to meet you, Yuuri," he murmured. "Yakov?"

Yakov paused his lecture to give Viktor a stern glare. "What?"

"Put my retirement discussion on hold for now," Viktor said. He put a finger to his lips and grinned. "I might have another year in me after all."

Yakov fumed. "Oy, Viktor, you can't just…Viktor, are you listening?"

Katsuki Yuuri. His soulmate. His soulmate. He had a soulmate.

This skating season was going to be a good one.

[coloursflyaway]

Dirk+Todd: 57+24 - Thor+Loki: 100+4 - Harry + Eggsy: 60+70 (You don't have to do all of them, but I'd be so happy :D)

Dirk/ Todd, 57: Forgotten First Meeting and 24: Soulmate AU

Oh Jesus, I actually kind of started to write a fanfic about that and never finished it!But anyway. This is like, almost but not quite what you asked, but I hope good enough after all (: (Meine Deutschlehrerin hätte es wohl trotzdem eine Themenverfehlung genannt)

They’re younger still, Dirk has just come to America, and everything is new and bright and loud and beautiful and he loves every second. He’s scared, too, also every second of it, but that doesn’t matter quite as much, not when everything is so exciting. He buys new clothes, and incredible amounts of pizza, and life is good, at least for now. Sometimes there are cases,  sometimes he even solves them, and it should be enough, but after a while, it isn’t anymore. There’s has always been this itch inside of him (if Dirk had ever known a home before, he’d call it homesickness), and back in England he had learnt to live with it, but now, in this new, strange land, he finds that it gets worse with every beat of his heart, every breath he takes. He doesn’t know why, or what causes it, but one night he wakes up, choking on it, and there is just one thought left in his mind; he needs to walk. And walk he does, without knowing where to, only that with every step he takes, it gets a bit easier to breathe. The city around him turns dirty, run-down, but he keeps walking, until he’s standing underneath a window that’s brightly lit, open although Dirk is fairly certain that it’s dangerous to keep it that way in the night.A moment passes in which he doesn’t know why he has stopped, then a guitar starts to play, and a voice belts out two, three, four words, and Dirk is home. He knows that voice although he never heard it before, he knows the person behind it, although they never met. And he knows they’ll meet, someday, somewhere, and that he’ll look at them and never leave again. It takes another five years, seven months, two weeks and twenty-eight days until he finds out that the band he listened to under that window was called Mexican Funeral, and seven days less than that to find his soulmate. 

Thor/Loki, 4: Coffee Shop AU and 100: Accidentally Savingthe Day

(I’m really bad at getting these topics right 100%)

It’s not that Thor wanted to start working in the shop, it just happened. The world is quiet after all, now after Thanos has only left half of them alive, too many empty spaces to be filled. Thor tries not to think of what is left of him, or his heart, or what used to fill it, so he spends as much time as possible outside, sometimes just walking, sometimes helping, sometimes finding a spot in this empty city that’s loud enough to make it impossible to think. One of those is a small café, which used to be run by a couple, now only one woman who looks twenty years older than her age, and cries in the kitchen when she thinks no one notices, clutching a tattered photo to her chest. At first, it’s only supposed to be a small act of kindness, because Thor knows she needs the money, and there is a man, who has been waiting to be served for ten minutes at least without her reappearing, swollen eyes or not. So he gets up from his seat, walks behind the counter and makes the best cup of coffee he possibly can. It must still taste bitter, but the man just thanks him, hands him a bill and leaves. Thor doesn’t need his dead brother’s magic to know that the man he just served is as broken, as splintered inside as he is, as the woman running this café is. And it doesn’t help to help him, not really, but it is something to do and something to forget yourself in, and Thor figures that, if any of the Avengers needed him, they’d find him eventually. So he stays.

He doesn’t come to work every day, and if, he doesn’t always help, but the owner, Ingrid, he learns, and he find an understanding without ever talking about it. Sometimes, she leaves for hours on end, comes back drunk, or crying, or not at all; sometimes he flinches when someone with green eyes comes inside, or cannot speak when a young man smiles with just enough mischief in his eyes. Once, he punches a hole into the wall when a young woman asks him how he is holding up. Ingrid just puts a poster up over it.

Then, one day, there’s an attack. Nothing special, at least not by his standards, some other race, come to enslave humanity once more, and Thor could fight them, should fight them, but he’s tired. He has lived millennia and suddenly he feels each year weighing him down, and he knows Ingrid feels almost the same, so while he could try, he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a punch, takes a second, finds that the pain gets easier to bear with every drop of blood they beat out of him.

His nose splinters under a fist, his lip splits open, and suddenly the air next to him moves, swirls, tastes tart and familiar on his tongue. Thor opens his eyes, although the blood makes them sting, watches the air turn golden and green and black in front of him. It shouldn’t be possible, not until he’s stepped foot in Valhalla, and yet Loki is there, his armor glistening in the sunlight and his expression screaming murder. Slender fingers thread themselves into his hair, pull his head back until Loki can look at him properly. There is something like pity in his eyes, or maybe it’s just pain; Thor only has a moment to recognise it. Maybe it’s love. “Stand down”, Loki hisses, and although his words are hardly loud enough to stir the air, no one dares to move. “He’ll be mine to kill once Ragnarök comes.”

Harry/Eggsy, 60: Poorly TimedConfession and 70: Locked in a Room

“Oh, you have got to be kiddin’ me.” Eggsy tries the doorknob again, pushes his shoulder into the door, but it won’t budge, just like the last time he tried this. Or the one before. Or the one before. It’s not his fault, though, not really, because the Statesman HQ is huge, and he has gotten lost more often than not, and there are four different doors to choose from in the kitchen. Usually, he chooses the right ones, too, but apparently not in a panic. 

“Eggsy?”, comes a voice from the other side, Harry, who sounds genuinely concerned. “Are you alright?”It’s a difficult question to answer; physically, yes, psychologically? Not quite. Not after he unthinkingly told Harry, “G’night for now, love you”, before realising what he had said, tried to run out of the room, but instead got himself locked up in the supply closet. “Yes?”, he tries anyway, finds that he sounds as unconvincing as he feels. “Mostly.”

There is a pause, loaded, it feels at least to Eggsy, who stops jingling the doorknob and instead just sinks down onto the floor to wallow in misery there. He doesn’t think Harry is going to hate him for this - he can’t call it crush, not when it’s so much more - this thing, but he will try to talk to Eggsy about it, and everything between them will be incredibly uncomfortable from now, and at the moment, that sounds almost as bad. 

“Is there something you would like to tell me?”, Harry finally says, every word pronounced carefully, slowly, like Eggsy is a small animal he is trying not to frighten. “I really think saying it once is bad enough”, Eggsy responds, and there is half a chuckle in his voice, born of desperation, not mirth. “It hasn’t changed much in the two minutes you haven’t seen me, bruv.”Again, a pause, the shuffle of shoes and a mumbling that sounds like Harry is talking to himself, then, “So you did mean it.”

Harry says it with wonder in his voice, something almost sounding like amazement, and Eggsy won’t hope, he won’t, he - “You know, dear boy”, Harry says, and his voice still sounds the same, just warmer, softer. “I quite return the sentiment.”

It doesn’t take a moment for Eggsy to understand the words Harry is saying, it doesn’t even take a minute, or two, it takes a year at least, a century at most.“You what?”, he asks back, halfway through it, and Harry, still hidden behind that blasted door, laughs. “Love you too”, he replies, and Eggsy’s brain short-circuits, has him on his feet, pressed against the wood within a second. “What?”, he asks again, like it‘s the only word he’s still able to form. “Do I really have to repeat myself?”, Harry asks instead of answering, “The answer hasn’t changed much in the few seconds you haven’t asked.”“Kinda. Yeah”, Eggsy mutters, rests his head against the door; if he has wished this door to hell before, now he’s ready to carry it there himself. There’s a tentative happiness starting to blossom in the back of his mind, lighter than anything else he has ever felt, and so overwhelming Eggsy isn’t sure he’ll be able to take in all of it at once.

“I love you, then”, Harry says again, softly now, as if he was pressed against the door too. Eggsy really hopes he is. This time, the happiness almost washes him away, makes him dizzy. It still hasn’t quite sunken in that he could really, truly have this, Harry by his side, holding his hand, kissing him, but it will with time. As soon as he can get past this door, and look at Harry while he says those words again.

“Get me the fuck out of here, Harry”, he says, no, demands, closes his eyes and tries to imagine how it’ll be to be with the only person he never thought he could have a chance with. “And I swear, if you don’t kiss me so hard I’ll see stars once I am, you’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.”“I think I can do both.”

Send me two tropes, a ship and I’ll write you a far too long ficlet about it

[twilight-deviant]

Ok so I know this will make 2 explanations that you have given me, but how could Lucy be his wife? It's one of those theories I can't wrap my mind around because of the time travel thing. Like, did he not bury his wife with his daughter? I thought he was doing all of this to bring his family back to life? If she is his wife, how do you think Lucy is alive but not their daughter? I'm super sorry for all of these questions. I'd love for that to be the twist but I just don't understand how

Continued:Again, very sorry for the probably long response you’ll have to write, you just explained the sibling theory breakdown really well and I want to think she is his wife, but I can’t understand how it’s possible with her knowing nothing of it, and with her father being rittenhouse, why he would have her killed, but her also to not be dead. Obviously you wouldn’t know that, but it’s a theory that leaves a lot of questions so I’d like to better understand it, if you don’t mind sharing your thoughts 

First off, I seriously don’t mind getting lots of Timeless questions or comments. Don’t apologize. You guys make me feel so, so special that my obsessive retainment of fiction can finally be useful in some way. I should be thanking you. Bring it on.

And eeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhh. I do have my theories on how it could be possible. And I promise they’re logical. They make sense. It’s actually not as complicated as you might think. But with this being the eve of the season finale, I’m just going to wait and see. If I’m right, they’ll have their own explanation. If I’m wrong, meet me back here in two days for storytime and a really great and very well thought out AU.

So, ya know, until then I’ll just point out things like how Flynn has never said his family’s names out loud. He sticks to blanket terms, always saying “my wife.” Imagine if Wyatt never said Jessica’s name. It distances the information, like a secret.

And despite the half-dozen pictures we’ve seen of Jessica, we have never, not once, seen a picture of Flynn’s family. Even though he’s doing this for them, and you’d think he would look at their faces often for strength and as a reminder, especially in moments of doubt. Instead, he’s always reading Lucy’s journal. In fact, at the end of the Pilot, him reading the journal is mirrored with and immediately preceded by Wyatt looking at Jessica’s photograph.

Flynn looks amazing in that scene btw. 10/10. So hot. Good lord. Look at his hair and his stupid long finger turning that page and the white tanktop and the gunshot wound he probably stitched up himself by the looks of things.

Ever since it came up, I’ve sort of been treating the Flynn family grave marker as a red herring. Showing it to us, giving us these names, it casts doubt on the possibility of Lucy being his wife. It throws us off the trail. And I’ll argue that Flynn married a woman named Lorena the same way Lucy is engaged to a guy named Noah. Because they changed the timeline. If Flynn altered the past and saved Lucy simply by preventing her from marrying him, he still would have gotten married. Family oriented man like him, in his thirties, probably wanting to settle down. He got married no matter what. Even if he didn’t marry Lucy, he still married someone. Only our Flynn never actually met this Lorena woman and would have no memory of her. Though I imagine he still feels guilt over her death and the death of this child they had. Or, if not guilty, maybe he visits their graves because the graves of his family no longer exist. It’s all he has. I’ll point out again how weird it is that WE HAVE HIS FAMILY’S NAMES, but he never uses them. He has never repeated these names back to us. That’s suspicious.

I’ve said before how Lucy’s story is setting up for a reveal like this. 1.09 when she’s talking about Noah: “What if I’m whoever he’s supposed to be with? …Think about it. In this alternate reality, we were engaged. I was… in love?” We see that she’s open to understanding that under different circumstances, she felt something for this man. (She feels something for Flynn in the new universe, but their amazing chemistry is another discussion. Soulmates~) And then in 1.10, she’s talking to Agent Christopher, who says, “As hard as it must be for you to remember your sister, what’s worse for me is that your mother doesn’t. She had a daughter she doesn’t even know existed.” It sounds like they’re easing Lucy into the shock by first letting her experience it and imagine it with different people. I could be wrong, but it would be a waste of really good setup. That’s all I’m saying.

And, ya know, has to be said, Flynn knows a lot about American history. A lot. More than the two American boys on the team. He knows big things as well as smaller, more intricate bits of trivia. Very intricate. Like when he called Edison’s guards “Pinkertons.” While I’m sure he does do his research before jumping back in time, some things would make a lot more sense if he was, say, married to a history professor for x amount of years.

As for Lucy’s father, obviously I don’t think he put the hit out. Contradicting myself a little from my last argument, but… Rittenhouse seems very compartmentalized. Doc told us no one knows what the others are doing. Everyone is trusted to carry out their individual tasks, and the heads of the organization meet up every twenty-five years to make sure everyone is on the same page. They would have met in 2004 and won’t meet again until 2029. By all accounts, there is very little contact outside of that. So an NSA agent finding out about Rittenhouse and needing to be eliminated can very easily not fall under Cahill’s jurisdiction or even within his knowledge. Lucy being his daughter is probably a secret only he knows. Her birth certificate most likely lists Henry Wallace as the father. So whoever put out the hit on Flynn’s family might not have known she was Cahill’s daughter.

And isn’t it nice? The idea of them being soulmates? Just think about it. Flynn has written off any future relationship with his wife because of all the horrible things he’s done. He no longer considers himself to be the man she married. But then there’s our Lucy, who has witnessed all of his evil and yet still can’t condemn him absolutely. She never gives up and has an endless supply of second chances for him. She wants to save him. At its most basic level, she likes him, feels drawn to him. It’s amazing and just so beautiful to think that in any universe, under any circumstance, they fall for each other. There’s a silver lining that he can still be with her. Without the guilt and the corruption of his home. He can be with a Lucy who accepts him as he is now. That’s one of the many reasons why I want it to be true.

Okay, fine! I’ll explain my theory, but I’m putting it under a cut so I can hide the shame of me sounding like a crazy person.

Maybe this isn’t a theory as much as one possibility. Explained in a way so that you can sort of see it. Because like I said, if it’s true, they’ll have their own story.

So Lucy can be alive simply, as I said, by Flynn preventing them ever marrying. If they never married, Lucy was never killed, but obviously they never met or had a daughter. Therefore, she can be in the current timeline, but their daughter never existed. Everything Flynn does now is to bring his family back as it was. He wants a Lucy that remembers him. He wants his daughter to be alive. And it makes sense, doesn’t it? Flynn wants to save his family so desperately. Why would his first order of business be to destroy Rittenhouse instead of a more direct plan to save them?

How would he prevent their meeting/marrying? Let’s say, theoretically, the Mothership made a stop before going to the Hindenburg. They went to any point in time before 1975 (when he was born) and Flynn set in motion a series of events to prevent their meeting and thus spare Lucy. Because he knows from the journal he received that, with her help, he can fight Rittenhouse. But, downside, she won’t remember him. From there, the Mothership can continue to 1937 and the Hindenburg, and there would be no record of their pitstop because in the affected present, Lucy never died so there was never anything for Flynn to prevent. By all accounts, the techs at Mason Industries would see that Flynn traveled to 1937 and made no layovers in between. Once in 1937, while Flynn is carrying out his agenda, Anthony recharges the Mothership so they can get home. I assume it’s like the Lifeboat: two hops and you’re done. Electricity existed in 1937, and if Anthony can make a nuclear battery, he can surely adapt at least half the charge that would be necessary.

But what event led to their meeting that Flynn could have prevented? This could be anything, but for argument’s sake, I’ll throw in a canon example that Lucy has brought up twice now. It seems they’re putting emphasis on it so we don’t forget it happened. In 1.04, Lucy talked to Wyatt about a fated event which changed her life: a car accident. So what if Flynn somehow set in motion the events of the oil spill which caused Lucy’s car to crash when she was a sophomore in college? Because at that point, she was going to quit school and join a band. She didn’t want to follow in her mother’s footsteps. But the accident that night forced her back onto the path of being a history professor. What if Flynn, in the past, paid someone to one day slick the road and then pull Lucy out of her sinking car, on the night when he knew she would be driving to her mother’s house? Imagine if that never happened and her quitting school and joining that band led to her meeting Flynn. He would then know, as he says in the Pilot, “You think you’re meant to follow in your mother’s footsteps, but you don’t really want to.” It is most likely something she wrote about, though at the time of her writing the journal, Lucy is not a history professor. She has put her career on hold. So why would she write about her doubts then? What if Flynn knows this because it’s a personal account she shared with him? When they were married? And obviously, I’d like to think that after her youthful dalliance, she returned to wanting to be a history professor. She just needed to get it out of her system. But Flynn would know that if our Lucy never pursued that path, she never got over her doubts.

So… does that help? Can you see it a little better as a possibility? I could go into more detail, but there’s enough here to rationalize it. I think. I’m not saying it happened like that (I’m not saying it happened at all– I could still be wrong about her being his wife), but it is one option of how it MIGHT have gone down.

If you want another possibility, I could say… Lucy’s father is in charge of the time machine project. Upon learning of her death, he abuses his power to change it, orchestrating a timeline in which she never met and married Garcia Flynn. Though it’s likely even he doesn’t remember he did this, unless he was in the time machine that went back. Although it seems clear that (for probably multiple reasons) he does not like Lucy talking to Flynn. But while this isn’t impossible, I prefer Flynn being behind everything. Because if Cahill changed the past, that would mean both Lucy AND Flynn exist in a timeline without ever being married. And I would like it if Flynn remembered. Although… imagine him maybe finding a photograph from the original timeline of them as a family, paperclipped in the journal and existing outside of time. That does carry its own drama in thinking that he would be just as confused as her. But no, I prefer a Flynn that remembers Lucy as his wife.

Okay, there you go. A very long explanation, just like you assumed it would be. lol. But that’s my fault. I’m not a very short-winded person. Thank you again for asking. I’ve wanted to talk about it, but I wasn’t going to make a post. However, I have been over-prepared with an answer if someone ever asked. Hahahaha. I said things that weren’t even relevant to your question.

I’m just saying her being his wife is a very real POSSIBILITY. It can go either way. There is no hard evidence to contradict it other than the grave marker. But there is a lot of groundwork laid out for such a reveal.

I want it.