#probably going to feature her pov in my fic at some point haha

[jade-of-mourning]

yanagi reiko!

[90sbee]

The patrol is over

Leon S. Kennedy x Ashley Graham

2k words. Also on ao3

As Leon and Ashley await for the helicopter to take them to safety, Leon is slowly spiralling, full of concern still. It is then that a ghost from his past decides to visit him.

What can I say, I had this idea already and then I saw Leshley Week... It was like the perfect excuse to write and post this one. Also this fic is quite silly but, hey, I love writing Leon's pov. Also @lightning-hawke is a sweetheart and she made sure that this was readable. Everybody please thank you to this brave soldier who had to face my 3am delusional writing.

Content: All Leon's pov, angsty and sad but also. Cathartic. Ash is asleep the whole time cos baby needed a nap after all that. Spooning, protective!Leon.

Warnings: Hallucinations, anxiety. Mention of guns, knives, zombies. Sleep deprivation. And I think that's it? Yeah, this is actually SFW, for once, haha.

It’s been three hours. Maybe four. Perhaps five.

Leon can’t sleep. He has tried it, though, but his body is still running on adrenaline and anxiety and he doubts that he will actually get some rest today.

Whatever. He has had it worse.

Ashley is passed out on the bed, curled up into herself, softly snoring. Leon blinks, trying to keep his eyes open. Even if his body is exhausted, his mind is still rushing through all the different scenarios in which this could still go wrong, heart rattling inside his chest.

What if Luis was wrong? What if the Plagas is still inside them? What if he ends up falling asleep, body going slump on this old chair and when he wakes up, he has hurt her?

God. Such idea gives him goosebumps, and he sits even farther from the bed.

What if instead, it is her? What if Ashley opens her eyes and tries to attack him?

Leon eyes the knife on the nightstand, the guns on the floor.

He knows he wouldn’t use any weapon against her, anyway. But if she hurt anyone, he’d be responsible.

God. Fuck responsibilities and guilt. It would’ve meant he had failed.

His blood runs cold then.

A failure. Assigned on what was, probably, the most important mission in his life. The president’s daughter involved, and what was supposed to be one of the top agents in the country, ruining everything. Returning a shadow of a woman, a timebomb.

Leon hides his face in his hands for a while, trying to catch his breath.

He knows he is spiralling.

He has to keep some faith: faith in Ashley, faith in Luis.

In himself, even if he is not used to it.

He looks at her, pursing his lips.

She breathes so calmly. Expression soft, features finally having some well-deserved rest. She is so gorgeous too. A soul too kind for him. He feels guilty for refusing to accept her proposal, though he is aware that being her bodyguard would have never actually been possible.

He blushes slightly, knowing that she at least wanted his company for a little longer. Maybe he is not so useless after all. She had also asked him to hold her to sleep, but he had simply shaken his head. “You’ll be fine, I promise. You’ll probably have a better rest taking up the whole bed”.

He sighs, crossing his arms. Leon is not sure how long it will take until the helicopter arrives. He hopes it is soon, because his head hurts and he feels hungry but he can’t leave her side and he definitely doesn’t trust the police officers next door.

No, scratch that.

He wishes the helicopter never arrives.

Because that means it is all over.

His gaze softens as he looks at her, feeling his heart pulling at its strings. For a moment, he considers it. A life with her. Visiting her at the White House. Maybe indeed fighting to accept the bodyguard position, his hand on her back as he keeps her safe once more, the sound of her laugh. The idea of getting acquainted with her shampoo brand, learning her favourite colour, kissing her forehead.

He is spiralling again, but this time in a more dangerous direction. Leon cracks his knuckles, yawning.

There is no point into wasting time thinking of all this. He can’t afford to lose footing in reality. And the reality is forcing him to remember that only a few hours they had both been fighting a Plagas, and he can’t be completely sure that the coast is clear. The mission isn’t over until she is back home, until they both reach American ground.

His foot starts hitting the floor quickly, as his headache gets even worse. He has to keep himself awake, he can’t lose focus.

At any given point Ashley could wake up and look at him with those soft doe eyes and ask anything, anything from him and, god, he’d give her the world, but first… But first he has to make sure that they’re both safe.

She’s make him feel like a worthy prince.

He can’t lose the princess for being careless.

He feels thirsty but he doesn’t even want to move his eyes away from her. His heart picks up when he thinks her chest stops moving up and down, but he realises it is his mind playing tricks on him as she sighs again.

Fuck. He is really losing his shit. He’s been trained for this crap. He barely sleeps anyway.

He curses in a whisper and looks down, grabs the water bottle next to his foot and sits down again.

That’s when he notices there is someone else in the room.

How? How would that be possible? There is no fucking way. It takes him just a second to fucking comprehend what is going on, but in an instant he has his knife on his fist, standing up as he approaches the figure, ready to attack the stranger.

The knife doesn’t hit anything.

Leon stills his movements then, realising that he recognises the face in front of him: the dirty-bloodied uniform, the stupid toothy smile, the look of hope in his eyes.

It’s him. The ghost of his younger version, the one from Raccoon City, stands before him.

“Fuck off,” Leon groans. He knows now that he is hallucinating. “Go away,” he pleads, in a growl, sitting down once more. His fucking head feels like about to explode.

“Buddy, I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” answers the more excitedly voice.

Leon considers replying, but he doesn’t want to wake Ashley up. The poor thing has already gone through too much, the least she needs at the moment is the man that is supposed to keep her safe having a full-on discussion with himself.

Fucking insane. He hides his face in his hands.

It’s not the first time it’s happened, that’s for sure. He’s gone through it all: hallucinations for being sleep-deprived, sleep paralysis after the most excruciating missions.

Most of the times it’s not even monsters, or zombies. Most times it’s people he knew: Annette, Ada a couple of times too. Last time it was Marvin, his body bloody and his eyes white as he swears he could hear his cries of pain still.

He wonders if maybe Luis will join as well, sometime, another painful reminder of his failures.

But himself? This was new.

“What the fuck do you want?” he mumbles. It Is stupid, Leon knows that. But perhaps by talking to this ghost of himself he could get rid of it faster, make sure he can go back to guard Ashley.

“Heh, I think it is obvious what you want,” the high-pitched voice replies. Leon looks up a moment, seeing the rookie sitting on the floor next to the bed, pointing at Ashley.

“Very funny,” Leon groans.

“What? Are you gonna deny it? I’m literally you.”

“Just, shut up.”

Surprisingly, that works. When Leon looks up once more, the figure isn’t there. He yawns, rubbing his temple. Maybe he is gone, for real. Maybe his mind will stop playing tricks on him now. He resumes his watch, his whole attention directed towards Ashley.

He is not even sure what time it is now, but he hopes it won’t be too long. At this point, he is being more of a nuisance than an actual help, a real protection for her. He knows he will have to sleep soon.

Not yet, though. Not fucking yet. He has to fucking hold on, try to keep it together.

“Hey, maybe you should get some actual sleep,” the voice suddenly interrupts him, now coming from next to him.

Leon almost stumbles from his chair, heart racing.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he half-shouts, and immediately purses his lips, embarrassed.

The rookie, the fucking rookie, sitting down next to him.

“Sorry, just trying to help,” he mumbles.

Leon shakes his head. He doesn’t want to say anything else. He is sure he almost woke Ashley up. He decides to acknowledge this presence, since it is becoming quite clear that it is not leaving for now.

“What do you want? Don’t fucking say Ashley, I swear to God,” he whispers, ashamed.

“Well, you’re the one that should know that. Your brain is literally hallucinating me at this point.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. I can’t sleep yet,” he replies, crossing his arm as he stands up, trying to walk around the room a little, forcing his body not to pass out.

“You look incredibly nervous, dude,” his younger version chuckles, seemingly amused.

“I’m not.”

“Why are you walking around, then?”

“Well, someone has to make sure the president’s daughter doesn’t die on my watch. I’d say that’s some pretty big responsibility,” his heart is about to get out of his chest, and he is sweating.

The headache is now deeper, more annoying.

“She is safe now, Jesus Christ. Give yourself some credit, man.”

“She is not,” Leon suddenly replies.

“She is. Don’t you trust Luis? Do you think he would have lied to you?”

That does stop him in his tracks. Perhaps the rookie has a point. Leon nods, slowly. In the darkness of the room, he looks at his arms. The veins are normal still. He hasn’t had any weird visions since they got the Plagas expelled.

Well, except for the unpleasant vision that his own mind conjures. Maybe even more annoying than Lord Saddler’s ones.

He doesn’t acknowledge the rookie, though, but he comes back to sit on the chair.

“How many hours has it been now?” this ghost insists.

“I dunno.”

“You do know.”

God. He didn’t remember his younger voice being that annoying. Leon inhales, trying to calm himself down.

“Five hours,” he replies after a moment.

“If any of you were still infected, don’t you think the Plagas would have acted up by now? Also, Lord Saddled is dead now. There is no one controlling the Plagas now. All the Ganado died, remember?”

Leon hates that the little kid is right.

“I guess that’s true,” Leon admits.

The rookie laughs.

“She is fine. You don’t need to keep watching over her like a creep. I mean, not that we are being creepy…”

Leon interrupts himself: “Just go to the point, man”.

The rookie looks up at him, glittering eyes full of hope and a gentle small on his face.

“Look, I thought I was the rookie here, but you’re being a whole amateur now,” he stands up, in silence. “The patrol is over, rookie”.

Leon looks at himself. That shadow of himself, too full of hope and of light. He blinks, still processing the rookie’s words… His own words, echoing from and inside his head.

The patrol is over.

Fuck.

He slumps on the chair, eyes welling up with tears. For a moment, he lets himself cry in silence, under the soft sound of Ashley’s breathing. He breaks down a little, feels pity for himself, as well as relief. He dries off his tears with his palm, trying not to be too much of a mess in case she wakes up. He should be strong still. He needs to be.

By now, the headache is unbearable and his eyes hurt, a combination of exhaustion and the tears. But he knows it’s true: they’re both safe. He saved her. Ashley is safe. And even if he can’t have her, if this story ends in a few hours, he can still breathe without regrets. He can even make sure that their last memories together are something pleasant, something nice and comforting.

Leon tries to calm his breathing. He looks up, still curious as to whether the old presence is still there, but not anymore.

No more ghosts in the room. Just Ashley and him now.

With heavy steps he moves towards the bed, dizzy by now. He lies down on the bed and allows himself to breathe against Ashley’s shoulder, timidly holding her from behind. He grips her body close to his, knowing this is the only and last time he’ll have this chance. And even if she is half-asleep, Ashley sighs, content on her sleep, as Leon closes his eyes, finally allowing himself to rest.

The patrol is over and so is their story. But for a while, they can still lie close together, in the dark. Both finally safe, at last.

My brain actually wanted to be mean and make it Marvin instead of Rookie Leon but you know what. I don't need to break my heart like that SO much. Let Leon be angry at himself, it's fun, lol.

[allisondraste]

Writer’s Review

Thanks for the tag @kagetsukai.  This was a fun trip down memory lane.  My first published work was In January of 2008 and it was for Inuyasha and my most recent works have been for Fallout 4, but for the funsies of direct comparison, I chose my first Dragon Age fic (published in 2010 when I was SIXTEEN GAH) and a very unintentionally similar scene I wrote back when I started Temperance in 2019.  ;D

Rules: Post two snippets of your writing. The first should be one of the oldest examples of your work that you can find (the older the better!), and the other has to be an excerpt from something more recent. Compare the two side by side to see the difference between what your writing looks like now and how it did then.

In return I shall tag @potatocrab @laurelsofhighever @adventuresofmeghatron and anyone else who might wish to cringe at their own old writing.  As always, no pressure.  I’m just following the rules. 

I’m gonna stick this under a read more because it’s very long. 

Excerp from Hunger, a short fic for my warden Eliya Surana and Alistair. 

It sounded again. It was more recognizable this time. It was a laugh or a chuckle. It sounded human, or possibly elven to her ears. The thought of bandits waiting like tigers ready to pounce upon them and cut her throat, then Alistair, Leliana, and Morrigan (if they dared). Then they'd rob the camp and leave the corpses to the darkspawn and beasts of the forest.

They thought of being decapitated didn't sit well with the red headed elf. In a rush of fear and adrenaline, she leaped forward toward whoever was laughing and charged up and electricity spell holding it to whatever she'd made contact with. She hoped to scare whatever it was into submission. She didn't understand how successful she'd been until she looked down.

She was straddling what was definitely human, definitely male, and definitely…

"HOLY CRAP IT'S YOU," she said with an embarrassed yet relieved shout as she held the spell to the man's face and it had revealed his identity. It was Alistair and she'd obviously startled him.

"No, no don't hit me! I bruise easily," he said putting his hands in front of his embarrassment flushed face.

"I'm SO sorry," she said not thinking to get up off of him in her disgruntled state, "I thought you were a bandit and you were going to cut my throat and then kill everyone else and take all of the FOOD. Why were you laughing?"

"I was… uhh… laughing… err…at… haha… you," he said in a meek manner like she'd kill him if he said it, "Though now I know to never ever ever EVER do that again EVER."

Eliya gave him a confused eyebrow raise, her pointy ears twitching slightly in a quirky involuntary manner. "At me? Why?" She wondered if it was because she was elven. Despite being accepted by the humans in the Circle, she had lived in Denerim for awhile and was quick to accuse humans of racist beliefs. She hadn't thought Alistair to be… that way after being around him for several days, but she had to question his motives.

"No, no, its not what you're thinking," The stunned boy said apologetically. Alistair obviously knew what she was getting at, "Its not because you're an elf. I swear it! I heard you rattling around and talking to yourself. I thought it was funny because I knew what you were doing. It seemed like déjà vu for me because I went through the same hunger thing. I… couldn't help it."

"Oh," Eliya said with a relieved chuckle, "That's good because I really didn't want to beat you up."

Alistair laughed but when he saw the stern expression on the girl's face he stopped. "Wait are you serious," he questioned.

Eliya looked sternly for about five more seconds but then busted into a hysterical laughter.

"We're even now," she said between laughs. And they sat there laughing at the predicament.

Excerpt from Chapter 3 of Temperance, a scene between Liss Cousland and Alistair 

The air was slightly too cold for her liking, teeth chattering as the wind nipped at her cheeks and nose.  Despite her discomfort, she found the courtyard ideal, ferns and flowers illuminated only by moonlight. She wondered how the plants survived the frost that coated them each night, the hardy little things.  Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and allowed her muscles to lose their tension.

The calm lasted only briefly, as she heard a rustle in the grass behind her and footsteps approaching.  She turned on her heels abruptly, balling her hand into a fist, and jabbing forcefully in the direction of the noise.  A man’s voice yelped in pain, and there was a thud as the figure, now in focus, fell to the ground. Liss moved to restrain the potential attacker, sitting atop him with her fist at the ready.  

“No no no!  Please don’t hit me again, I bruise easily,” the man, whose features Liss could now see more clearly, pleaded.

He was a young man with sandy hair, brown skin, and dark hazel eyes wide with shock and perhaps pain at the punch she had landed against his torso.  He did not appear to be armed, or dangerous for that matter. Then again, she knew better than to let her guard down.

“Who are you,” she demanded, fist still at the ready, “And why were you sneaking around in the courtyard?”

“My name is Alistair,” he answered nervously, “I had come outside for some air, as one does, and I noticed that someone else was out here.  I, uh…well I was hoping not to alarm you. I guess we see how well that worked out.”

“Alistair?” The name sounded familiar, and she stood up and stepped back as she realized who the young man was, “The Alistair?  King Maric’s son? The Grey Warden who helped stop the Blight? That Alistair?”

He stood up and dusted the dirt from his pants.  “The one and only.” He grimaced as he attempted to straighten up his posture, massaging the place on his abdomen where Liss’ fist had fallen. “Maker, that hurt.  Who are you, anyway? Do you always go around attacking people?”

“I’m Elissa Cousland, and I’m so, so sorry,” she laughed nervously, bringing her hands to her face to hide the embarrassment.  “I just couldn’t sleep, so I came outside for a walk. I heard footsteps, and I thought- well… I don’t know what I thought.  It’s been a long year, and I’m a little on edge.”

“I’ll say,” he said pointedly, before flashing a grin, “I think it’s safe to say we’re all a little on edge, what with the war and the Blight.  Better to punch first, ask questions later, huh?”

“I suppose,” Liss answered, still laughing at herself, “Though it’s probably not the best way to make friends.”

I did not even realize that I’d accidentally rewritten a similar scene with different characters, under slightly different circumstances.  I get a HOOT out of rereading Hunger because there are so many anachronisms and so much telling instead of showing. I think I’ve also gotten better at taking a deep point of view and letting the character lead me rather than standing at a distance from the POV character.  I’m glad to see I enjoy having Alistair tackled by cagey women for a decade now.   This was fun. 

[wholesome-revelry]

fic: “Long-Term,” Aziraphale/Crowley, outsider POV | 1.6K, G

(Nominally a sequel to this)

Officiating weddings has got to be one of Dr. Blackwell’s favorite parts of ministry, and although she’s probably not supposed to have preferences, if she looks deep into her jaded lesbian heart with any degree of honesty, queer weddings are by far the best. 

Take, for instance, the couple she’s consulting with this afternoon, for their upcoming October ceremony. Seemingly mismatched in every respect. The plump, fair-haired one looks like a parody of an absent-minded professor, as sketched by someone who didn’t bother to do much actual research; his clothes are so outdated it teeters on costume. He’s wearing a bowtie, and not in that reinvented hipster way. This is a bowtie unacquainted with the cycles of fashion, a bowtie that has never heard the word irony. 

His partner is a rangy, black-clad ginger in snakeskin boots. He has the look of a hungover rocker about him, and would somehow, even without the sunglasses he has fully committed to wearing indoors on a cloudy afternoon. He’s sprawled almost defiantly in his chair and keeps throwing dubious glances around Dr. Blackwell’s office, as though expecting a lightning bolt to strike him down for merely daring to be within spitting distance of a church. 

Everything about his posture screams ‘Extremely complicated feelings about religion ahoy!’

Ex-Catholic, Dr. Blackwell thinks sagely. 

Something funny about their names, too. Their names are--

They’re--

(She knows they both gave her their names, but as she looks at their faces, there is a curiously name-shaped hole where the sounds should go. Every time she approaches the edges of this thought, it ripples and changes shapes, and whispers, ‘Don’t worry now, it’s really of no consequence, is it?’ 

Dr. Blackwell didn’t get a degree in Unitarian Universalist theology by looking away from paradoxes. ‘Curiosity is earthly and holy and wonderful,’ she tries to tell the thought, pushing forward, ‘even to question truly is an answer--’ 

‘Ah yes,’ the thought says after her third attempt, ‘very nice, but in this particular case--’ and the absence where their names should be yawns, stretches, and swallows down all of her related concerns with a shrug.)

She blinks. She watches as Bowtie casually takes Sunglasses’ hand, as Sunglasses responds with a look so gooey and sweet and private that she feels a bit weird for intruding. How, she thinks, the fuck did you two meet?

The only thing they seem to have in common, beyond their feelings for each other, is a certain aura of personal disaster. Still, let she whose outfit doesn’t heavily feature Birkenstocks and cat hair throw the first stone. So to speak. 

“So,” says Dr. Blackwell, “anything in particular I should know first? Any thoughts, or concerns?”

“The hymns,” says Bowtie, “or. Uh. The songs, I suppose?” He coughs. “Any chance we could stick with ones that don’t, you know, prominently feature--?” He pointedly casts his eyes towards the ceiling and almost seems to mutter, “No point in asking for trouble.”

“Oh, of course,” she says, shaking off the flash of weirdness like an errant cobweb. “We have plenty of non-denominational hymns.”

“About what,” Sunglasses says with a slight sneer. “Tax forms? Penguins? Automotive repair?”

Oof. Definitely an ex-Catholic, she thinks. You can smell the baggage from here.

“Mostly about the inherent holiness in doing good, or the beauty of nature?” says Dr. Blackwell. “Sometimes, someone will sort of retrofit a classical melody to Transcendentalist poetry, but those tend not to scan so well, in my opinion.”

Somehow, without any eye contact, Sunglasses manages to give her a wary look.

“You can borrow a hymnal if you’d like,” she continues. “We tend to edit out the G-word anyway. Makes the atheists and the agnostics a bit jumpy, me included.” Bowtie starts.

“You don’t,” says Sunglasses, “believe in--?”

“Not really,” says Dr. Blackwell. “Suppose I’ll allow for the possibility, but in my mind, the existence of some divine Heavenly will is just not as important as other questions. Like ‘How do I do what’s right for the planet and everything on it?’”

“How do I avert the apocalypse,” Sunglasses murmurs.

“Exactly,” she says with a laugh, “although I’d settle for doing something about Brexit.” 

Neither of them laugh, and after an awkward pause, she adds,

“As far as music goes, for the ceremony. If you’ve got a song that really resonates with you, no matter what it is, let me know and we can work that in.”

“No Queen,” says Sunglasses immediately. 

It feels like there should be a story here, but Bowtie only turns to him and says, “What was that band you liked? Velveteen--”

“We’re not playing Velvet Underground at our wedding,” Sunglasses says.

“Same thing goes for readings, too,” says Dr. Blackwell. “If there’s a text that holds special meaning--”

“Hm,” says Bowtie, “yes, about that--” He reaches to his side and heaves an antique leather briefcase onto her desk. “May I?” 

“Of course.”

Bowtie fiddles with the latch, which clicks open to reveal a mountain of papers: wine-stained cocktail napkins and looseleaf notebook pages, parchment-looking stuff, and everything in between. It’s a veritable avalanche of love poems, as well as quotations from various plays and books, all laboriously hand-copied in the same tidy penmanship.

“Angel,” says Sunglasses slowly. “What is this.”

Pink-cheeked, Bowtie flutters his hands. “Just--some things I’d been setting aside!”

“For how long,” Sunglasses says, leaning forward. He sounds delighted but also deeply confused.

“So sorry,” Bowtie tells Dr. Blackwell, “I really should’ve organized these better! Even a rudimentary system--”

“It’s fine,” she says, blankly. She really hopes it isn’t going to be her job to narrow down the options. There are literally hundreds.

“How long,” Sunglasses repeats.

“You know how long!” hisses Bowtie.

Sunglasses plucks a sheet off the pile, rubs it between his thumb and finger. “They stopped making paper like this in the nineteenth century,” he says, sounding strangely triumphant about it.

Dr. Blackwell furrows her forehead, where a number of facts are colliding uncomfortably inside, like how some of these specimens are clearly very new, some are so old she’d be uncomfortable touching them with her bare hands, and the handwriting on every one of them is identical.

“Oh!” she says with sudden bright clarity. “Are you two vintage paper enthusiasts?”

“Yes,” says Bowtie. “Love it, love the stuff, simply cannot get enough.” And then, to Sunglasses, with a pointed look in Dr. Blackwell’s direction, “We’ll talk about it later.”

Maybe they met at a convention, she thinks. That’s nice.

“How about you pick out your top five first?” she suggests. “Or ten.” She glances down at the mound of text. “Also, we might need to get some volunteer readers for some of these, because my French isn’t exactly up to par. Or my--is that Middle English?”

“Haha, how did that get in there, couldn’t even begin to guess,” Bowtie babbles. He has to brace most of his weight on the briefcase lid to wrench it closed again. Sunglasses watches with interest, chin resting in his hands. “Yes, I will, I will absolutely weed some of these out, not to worry--”

The rest of the conversation is standard, for the most part. It’s going to be a relatively small ceremony, no child ring bearers and thankfully no animal ones either. (They have a whiff of eccentricity that had made Dr. Blackwell nervous one of them might suddenly produce a cat on a leash, insisting it was trained. In her experience, granting your beloved calico or tabby custodianship of the rings was a quick recipe for a ringless, catless wedding.) Only a shared stricken look at the possibility of involving any parents in the proceedings. 

This, sadly, is also quite standard with older queer couples.

“Between you and me,” says Dr. Blackwell, “and I know this isn’t very ministerial of me. But if the people who raised you don’t support what you have together, which is clearly a wonderful and beautiful and life-affirming thing, I say to Hell with ‘em, you know?”

Bowtie chuckles unsteadily. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

“How long have you two been together?” she asks.

Bowtie and Sunglasses stare at each other. There is a long beat of silence. This is normally, she thinks, not a very hard question.

“How long have we been together?” says Sunglasses at last. The shades may hide his eyes but every molecule of his being is oriented at his fiance. “Hm?”

“Six thousand--” Bowtie starts, resolute.

“What,” says Dr. Blackwell.

“Days!” Bowtie finishes. “Six thousand days!”

“So,” she does some fast mental math, “about sixteen years, then?”

“Yes,” says Bowtie decisively.

“That’s great,” says Dr. Blackwell. “I’ve been with my wife for almost six years, I hope we’re still this much in love a decade from now.” There’s just something so reassuring about meeting older queer couples, she thinks. Bowtie and Sunglasses must be at least forty. Maybe fifty? 

(It’s odd; they’re clearly solid, clearly sitting in front of her, but every time she tries to clue into any specific detail about either of them, her mind sort of skitters away from it--

Her head hurts.)

“Guessing you want a short service,” she says, rubbing at her forehead. “I’ll just write out a few remarks for you two to look over first, if that’s alright? I can email something to you by the end of the week.”

“Sounds perfect!” says Bowtie.

They shake hands. She watches them leave, watches Sunglasses mutter something in Bowtie’s ear that makes him smile on the way out the door.

Pair of oddballs, but in a nice way, she thinks. You can’t always tell, as a minster, which couples are going to make it in the long run, but she hopes this all works out for them. Maybe it will. They’ve already stood the test of time, it seems.

Sixteen years--they’ve been together since early 2000. 

Imagine, she thinks. Just imagine.

[johaerys-writes]

Fanfic Tag

I was tagged ages ago by @thesaltyhealer and @pikapeppa! Thank you so much, this is so interesting :D 

Rules: Share five fics (or stories!) you have written, then tag 5 writers (oops, haha)

1. A fic you are proud of?

It would have to be my current WIP A World With You. I’ve been working on it for quite a while, and I’ve put so much thought, time and love into it, it’s insane. It will always be my baby. Plus, my OC Tristan is my favourite boyo of all time :) 

2. A fic you are excited about?

I’m really excited about where A World With You is going right now, and I seriously can’t wait to hit some major plot points I have planned, namely the Winter Palace, the battle at Adamant, fighting Venatori, Tristan Losing His Shit™ and, of course, smut ;) 

I’m also very excited about the Surfer AU @thesaltyhealer and I have been working on! It’s a modern day AU and features my OC Tristan and Dorian, and Salty’s Maori/Solas. I just adore writing those salty fools in a modern day Thedas setting, lol! 

  Another fic that I’ve also been working on for a while and I’m very excited about is a small Cole/Lavellan fic that I really, really love and perhaps I’ll find the courage to post one day :3 

3. A fic that was challenging to write?

A World With You, hands down. It’s the longest fic I’ve written yet, and there are so many things to juggle, it gets overwhelming sometimes. Both Tristan and Dorian are complicated characters with lots of issues because of their traumatic pasts, and that’s something I wanted to preserve and showcase as respectfully as possible while writing their relationship’s development. I’m also trying to incorporate more of the game’s lore and politics into my fic, and trying to balance that out with the romance can be a bit tricky. Still, I’m loving every minute of it and I’m so, so proud of it :’) 

4. A fic that was something you hadn’t tried before?

The Surfer AU!! I’ve never written with anyone else before, but my fellow potate @thesaltyhealer is such an amazing writer and the story is so interesting, my brain can’t handle it lol. Plus, brainstorming with her is probably my favourite thing in the whole damn world :D 

As It Was is also something that I had never tried before, since it’s a Solas POV. It was inspired by @thesaltyhealer’s The Guardian and features Solas and her OC Maori, and it’s still one of my favourite one shots I’ve ever written (btw, please check out Salty’s fic if you haven’t already, I love it so so much and her writing is to die for!!) 

Another fic that was a first for me was The One She Runs To that I wrote for my beloved friendos @pikapeppa and @schoute, and it features pika’s Rynne Hawke and Fenris, and schoute’s Piper Lavellan from their Pirate AU Where the Winds of Fortune Take Me. I was so nervous when I posted it because I had never written in Fenris’s POV before, but it was such a joy to write and I still love going back to it when I’m drowning in Fenrynne feels :3 

5. If you had to choose one fic above all to share, what would it be?

A World With You!! It is my favourite story I’ve ever written, and I’m lowkey obsessed with it. If I’m not writing it, I’m probably daydreaming about it or brainstorming on the next chapters (or crying to @thesaltyhealer about it XD). It’s also the one that has pushed me the most as a writer, and the one that I have spent the most time researching. Tristan and Dorian's story has totally gripped my soul, and I’m so looking forward to writing more of them in the future and exploring their relationship even more.

I think everyone has been tagged already, but I’ll still tag forward to @midnightprelude, @badpriestessofbuttsburgh, @tessa1972, @welcome-to-gaydas, @that-one-french-guy, @schoute, @andrasste and anyone else that would like to share more about their fic! No pressure, as always :)

[creideamhgradochas]

Thanks to the lovely @youngmoneymilla for taking the time to answer these! Get to know more about lovely Eliza, go give her a follow and then show her some love!

These questions are from this list. You should check it out, there’s 50 questions all together and they’d be great to ask your favorite fic writer!

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fan-fiction?

13

2) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.

I did love writing OC’s because I have a lot of fun with physical description. However, that was when I wasn’t aware of Reader Inserts since I just recently came back into the fanfic world. Reader Inserts are great because I have to work that much harder on giving them a backstory/personality and not focus at all on physical description. Plus, everyone gets to read the work and hopefully find themselves in it. The only thing I hate is being unable to use a name. I can’t write “Y/N” bc it bugs me haha.

3) What is your favorite genre to write for?

Ummm Angst probably? I’m a huge horror fan so, I’m trying to incorporate that into more work.

4) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?

“It Would Have Made it True” just because I didn’t really connect with it that much and the ending was rushed.

5) When is your preferred time to write? 

11 am to 10 pm haha. I’m an asshole and write a lot during my job.

6) Where do you take your inspiration from? 

I have about a million fics bookmarked from over the years, literally fics from when I was in high school to now. They’re so gorgeously written and they inspire me to write. I pretty much only read non-fiction outside of fanfic so, that doesn’t really work.

7) What’s your favorite scene that you’ve written?

Bathtub/Bedroom scene in the second part of “Bungalows and Baths”

8) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?

Yep. In one fic, I included a descriptive characteristic for the reader that implied she was white. It hadn’t even occurred to me but, I immediately fixed it when someone pointed it out.

9) Who is your favorite character to write for? Why? 

Tossup between Bucky and Steve. Bucky has the very obvious trauma and grief that’s interesting to write about but, Steve has a lot of buried darkness that’s subtle and extremely intriguing.

10) Who is your least favorite character to write for? Why?

Maybe Bruce? I don’t care that much for his character (despite the fact I love Hulk)

11) How do you come up with the titles for your stories? 

A lot of the time, it’s a line that’s said throughout the narrative. However, I have a word doc filled with random quotes I like and I usually throw something together. I always think up the title at the end and it’s always an afterthought. Titles blow.

12) What do you think is the best idea you’ve had for a story so far?

I am currently writing a Bucky x Reader fic (TRYING TO AT LEAST) that is going to take the team to New Orleans. It’s going to involve vampires since I wrote a novella about vampires back in high school and want to re-explore that mythology. However, there is going to be a lot of twists and it won’t be an AU, it’s just introducing the possibility of vampires in the MC universe. The reader and Bucky will both be struggling with the idea of themselves as monsters and trying to help themselves through that. It’s going to be a lot of voodoo and magic and angsty “will they, won’t they”. I’m going off on a tangent now but, that’s the gist. I have not written an actual series in a long time so, this would be my first one.

13) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

There are many half-filled one- page word docs on my desktop that are rotting away as we speak. I just get bored or think of something else.

14) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

I’d love to do more fics with the same reader from Bungalows and Baths.

15) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?

Lol I’m actually annoyed with how I ended 6 Times right now. Not sure why.

16) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

Omg I admire so many but, here are a few.

@bitsandbobsandstuff – obviously for her “Safe with Me” piece which is fantastic, emotional and well-paced. Pacing/keeping the reader on their toes is the hardest thing for me in a series and so, I really admire her ability to do that. I also LOVED her “A Million Invisible Threads” piece because it’s such a gorgeous character study on the Winter Soldier

@a-splash-of-stucky  – She’s the Queen of Angst duh and a GORGEOUS writer. I love her stuff. A Messed Up Place left me weak.

@imhereforbvcky – Her “Mirror for the Sun” fic inspired me to start writing from Bucky’s POV actually. She’s just a beautiful writer.

@tilltheendwilliwrite – I love everything she writes. I love all the mythology she brings to her fics while still staying within the Avengers universe. Her smut is on another level, too. I find myself rereading her stuff again and again.

17) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

Here and there. There are definitely moments in a fic where I think why did I keep that. It’s usually because I ended it too quickly or just wanted it over.

18) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence? 

I love music when I write fics. It’s all movie scores. I have a spotify playlist for it.

19) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?

I’ve cried (ish) when writing anything that has to do with alcohol/substance abuse. I’ve been in and out of AA for the past two years and have finally started recovery again. I also have depression so, writing about that can leave me raw. Writing truly always helps though.

20) Which part of your fics have been the hardest to write?

SMUT. Jesus Christ. I struggle so hard with making smut sound hot, as well as lyrical so, it can fit with the narrative. I don’t want to reuse anything I’ve used in other fics before or repeat words but, it’s SO hard (pardon the pun). I always forget what position they’re in and where the body parts need to go. It’s legitimately why I have yet to write a Stucky x Reader fic. I can’t introduce another person into my difficult SMUT journey.

21) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow? 

I usually have a general idea and I’ll have a very vague outline going. I just write everything out like word vomit and go back and edit.

22) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fan-fiction? 

That some of the best stories I’ve read aren’t necessarily the ones with the most likes or comments. I stumble upon stuff and wonder “HOW DOES THIS NOT HAVE 2K LIKES”.

23) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

That’s tough. Maybe the stuff I wrote in the beginning where I didn’t have many followers. I loved the concept of “You Don’t Mean for it to Happen” but, sometimes I want to rewrite the whole thing. I put a lot of myself into “I Think of You All the Time” but, I feel like that got some good traction. IDK.  Bungalows and Baths got a crazy amount of love. Did not expect that but, v grateful.

24) In contrast to 23 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at? 

Nope. I appreciate any love haha.

25) Are any of your characters based on real people?

Well, I think it goes without saying that every reader character has a little bit of the author in there. I think I pull from some of my friends but, not really.

26) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten? 

Someone once said that their soul was marked by “Bungalows and Baths” which was amazing haha.

27) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

I haven’t really gotten criticism other than that time I screwed up on including a feature for a white reader. I felt terrible about that.

28) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?

Not really. I don’t have people to share them with haha.

29) Do people know you write fan-fiction?

My best friend knows but, she doesn’t read fanfic. Shockingly, my mom and sister know but, I told them that they could never read them. I just share reviews with them. My mom likes to know that I’m staying creative.

30) What’s you favorite minor character you’ve written? 

Oh jeez idk if I have one. Natasha isn’t considered a minor character but, she usually plays a side character in my stories and she’s fun to write for.

31) What spurs you on during the writing process?

Once I get started, I’m usually good at keeping it going. Music helps.

32) What’s your favorite trope to write?

Probably slow burn romance or one of the lovers is injured/captured. I also am a huge sucker for love triangles because I’m greedy AF.

33) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?

Lawl this might not have been the first one but, I read a Lizzie Mcguire SMUT piece when I was maybe in 6th grade and was severely chilled to the bone. I was trash even at 12.

34) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Angst. I always write better when I’m emotionally distraught and tortured. Although as I get older, I realize this isn’t fabulous for my own mental health.

[fantasyimmortal]

Satisfy Me

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |  Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

  Saeran POV. MM Fantasy AU. Fic Rating: Explicit

               I walked into the cabin with _____ still in my arms. Walking into her bedroom I dropped her down onto the bed. Her eyes fluttered open and for a split second I could’ve sworn she glared at me. Rolling over she mumbled something about me getting the fuck out of her room as she pulled to covers up to her chin.

               It is a real shame you’re not a heavy sleeper. With a frustrated sigh I walked out of her room and moved the small couch around so that I could at least look into her room. I plopped down onto it and glanced back into her room. “What a real fucking pain.” I twirled my hand in the air dramatically. “A Prince of Hell forced to be courteous to some lowly human.” My tail twitched in agitation as I put my hands behind my head and looked up at the ceiling.

               I cocked an eyebrow as I looked at the amateur repair job in the roof. I gave her room a sideways glance before looking back up to the repair job. “Why didn’t she just pay someone to fix it? It looks like shit. Whatever. Doesn’t matter to me.” Closing my eyes I tried not to think of the woman not ten feet from me who, annoyingly so, seemed completely at ease that she had a demon in her house.

 The edges of my vision were blurred as I walked down the winding streets of hell. This was a route I knew all too well. I put my hands in my pockets and I walked down the familiar alleyways. My mood grew increasingly foul with each step I took towards the preset destination of my memory. On cue I looked over my shoulder and saw the face of a younger me running excitedly down the streets. I stood still as my younger self ran through me as if I were a mere apparition. So many times I had try to stop him, knowing that it was a useless feat. Closing my eyes I ran my fingers roughly through my hair as I tilted my head back. I slowly opened my eyes and looked up at the disorder that was always present in the skies of Hell. Balling my fist at my side I continued on the only path this memory would take me to. I stopped at a house that brought forth a wave of anger inside me that I had never experienced before.   “What is this?!” I heard the voice of my younger self and knew exactly what he had seen. A woman I had been with many times, was in the throes of ecstasy with two men. With I sigh I fazed through the wall and looked at the woman who had used me for her own personal amusement for many years. The men she was with had fled the moment they saw my face. Fearful of a prince of hell suddenly showing up. “You’re still young. You’ve fulfilled your use to me.” I clenched my jaw as the blonde-haired, green-eyed succubus flipped her hair over her shoulder nonchalantly. It’s true, I was young and she was the first female I had been intimate with. I would speak about her as if she was a part of me. I ignored the fact that she was a succubus, thinking that I would be enough to keep her satisfied. I had started to connect with her on an emotional level. Even thought that ‘love’ could possibly be something I could look forward to with her. I was wrong. “But Rika! We…” “Haha ‘we’? There never was a ‘we’. There was only a me and a you. I got what I wanted and I am bored with you now. You may leave.” I glanced over at my younger self and I licked my own lip in the same place his fang broke his skin while he shook in anger. Three. Two. One. He lunged for her, his claws like daggers as he embedded both hands into her chest. Her eyes were wide with shock as she let out a cough, showering his face with small droplets of blood. Blood flowed from her lips as she grabbed at his hair. “Don’t….we can be…” She feebly tried to plead for her life and shivered as she heard a chilling laugh echo in the room. “There was only a me and a you.” Turning his hands while they were still embedding in her chest he ripped her body in half. A shower of blood staining his face and clothes. I stood silently as he fell to his knees, breathing heavily. One tear slipped from his eye before he got to his feet and licked the blood that had trailed down to his lips. With a smirk he chuckled. “Never again.” He whispered before he walked out the door never once looking back.

                 I opened my eyes slowly and sighed. Sitting up I put my head in my hands before running my fingers through my hair. Stupid fucking memories. I stretched my cramped wings as I got to my feet. “Probably shouldn’t have slept on them.” I shrugged and slowly flapped them in the space around me. “Oh well, nothing I can fucking do about it now.”

               I looked out the window and saw the sun was now up and with no colors of the dawn tinting the trees outside the double paned glass I guessed it was closer to noon. I glanced into her room and saw the outline of her body still under the covers.

               “Yo! Are you always this fucking lazy? If you want to stay in bed that can be arranged.” I leaned against the doorframe. Something wasn’t right. With the mark I had left on her I also put some of my power into it. I knew the mark was weak but I should be able to feel something no matter how faint it was. I stomped over to the bed and tore back the covers. I could feel anger boiling in my veins as I looked at a line of pillows. “This bitch wants to die!”

               With a growl I ran out of the place before jumping up into the sky and searching the surrounding area. I don’t feel anything. I looked toward the direction of the city. “I swear she has a fucking death wish!!” Strongly flapping my wings I made my way towards the city.

               Using simple camouflaging powers I flew over the city before spotting her. My lip curled in a sneer as I landed in an ally before concealing all my features. I waited for her to walk by me before grabbing her arm and pulling her into the shaded space with me.

               “What the fuck is your problem!” She yelled as I boxed her in my arms, with her back pressed against the building. She looked up at me with anger flashing in her eyes. “Wait. How did you find me?”

               I smiled down at her before putting a hand on the side of her neck. “How indeed.”

               She pushed at my arm and slapped a hand over her neck. “You fucking marked me, didn’t you?!” Her body shook with anger as I simply shrugged. “How can everything be so easy for you?! Your powers just fix everything don’t they?”

               “They do make things easier. But demons are supposed to have it easy.” I stepped closer to her, fully shrinking the space between our bodies. Grabbing her chin I tilted her face upward. “That’s what fascinates you humans so much. Normally, by nature, humans are drawn to the darker forces that surround them.” I started to lean in my lips a breath away from hers.

               “I think you use them for your own protection more than for the amusement you seem to have in them.” She whispered.

               “What?” I quickly pulled back from her as if she had burned me.

               “You heard me.” She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “I don’t have time to go back and forth with you right now.” She walked back onto the sidewalk. I followed after her like the baby sitter that I had to be. With a small huff she looked over her shoulder at me. “Don’t stand near me you’re half naked you’ll draw attention.”

               “You think me being fully clothed would change that?” I laughed in amusement.

               “You’re an asshole!” She spat before righting herself.

               I continued to follow after her, slightly closing the distance between us as she turned down a street leading to a more shady part of town. “Why the fuck are you walking this way?” I looked around seeing the trash cluttered everywhere. The stench in the air, what I could only compare it to, was the stench death and decomposition of something or someone.

               She stopped in front of a neglected looking home. A woman stood in the doorway smoking a cigarette, looking rather annoyed at our presence there. Her body had been through its own hell and by the tracks on her arms, majority of it was by choice.

               “What do you want you filthy bitch?” The woman said as she put out the cigarette on doorframe she stood in. She let out the long drag she had taken, the smoke reaching ______.

               _______ waved her hand in front of her face as she coughed slightly. Her hand gripped the strap of her bag to the point where her knuckles turned white. “Hello, mother.”

[ponyregrets]

Is there any way you can do a Clarke POV for "No One Can Lift the Damn Thing" please? (I was going through your fics and was listing all the ones I would want an Alt-POV for, and they all involved Bellamy as James Potter, wow I have A Type.)

I feel kinda bad calling this a Clarke POV but whatev I had fun I like social media AUs

Original fic and alt POV on AO3!!

Raven: Just got my invite to Finn and Ontari's weddingYou?

Me: NopeDo you think they flipped a coin?Or she just gave him an ultimatum?LikeYou can invite one of your awkward exesBut only oneChoose wisely

Raven: Honestly, I'm guessing he never actually told his mom why we broke upAnd given the choice between telling her he cheated on me and I dumped his assAnd just inviting me to his weddingHe invited me to his wedding

Me: Yeah, that's definitely what happenedAre you going to go?

Raven: YupGot a hot girlfriendI like his parentsAnd I want him to feel awkward about shitToo bad he didn't invite you

Me: I really don't mindI feel like I dodged a bullet

Raven: You could have brought BellamyFinn was jealous of him BEFORE he was famous for being hotImagine how much he'd hate seeing you guys together now

Me: You know, I was going to say Bellamy has better things to do than go to a wedding just to piss off FinnBut then I remembered this is Bellamy we're talking aboutSo he'd probably do it

Raven: Yeah, I doubt fame changed him that muchSucks that you're not coming, thoughWe should get together soon

Me: Maybe I'll just come hang out in townCoincidentally

Raven: I know you're joking, but you shouldI bet Monty and Miller are going

Me: I'll think about it

*

supreme-girl-wonder posted: do you ever get amazed that people you went to college with are now getting married and have lives and seem to know what they're doing?? I think I might have the most competent group of college friends ever, it's really intimidating

but congrats to my cheating ex-boyfriend on his engagement and thanks for not inviting me to the wedding

Tagged: #no seriously #thanks #I really did not want to go #it would be awkward af but if he invited me I'd feel like I had to go #or else they were winning #glad I don't have to worry about that #I can just get drunk in the comfort of my own home instead

*

Bellamy: Did you book your hotel for Finn's wedding yet?What days are you going to be there?

Me: Hahaha that's cuteYou think Finn invited me to his wedding

Bellamy: He didn't?He invited me

Me: You're rich and famous

Bellamy: So are you, princessAre we calling you that again? Did we reclaim it from Finn?

Me: I prefer Supreme Leader nowI'm rich, but I'm not featured in tumblr gif setsPeople commission me to do fanart of you

Bellamy: And you haven't sent it to me?I thought we were friends, Clarke

Me: Is James/Sirius a pairing you're into?

Bellamy: Obviously

Me: Then I'll send you some links

Bellamy: AwesomeFinn really didn't invite you to the wedding?

Me: He used to hit on me in front of the woman he's now marryingWhile they were datingShe hated meOf course they didn't invite meThey'd probably keel over and die if I showed upRelated: Did you get a plus one?

Bellamy: YeahI was planning to get them really excited thinking I was bringing some famous actress or something and then I show up with Octavia

Me: Or you could show up with me

Bellamy: Yeah, that's a way better ideaSo, what nights do you want me to book the hotel?

*

Anonymous asked: do u know if bellamy blake has a gf????

supreme-girl-wonder answered: why would you ask me, a fanart blog, this

*

Bellamy: Is it weird that I feel bad flying first class?

Me: DefinitelyBut you're famous nowI assume you can afford a therapist to talk you through these issues

Bellamy: Why would I pay someone when you took that one psych course sophomore year?

Me: Good pointBad how?

Bellamy: Guilty, mostlyIt feels like such a waste of moneyBut holy shit it's so much nicerI feel bad for everyone who isn't in first class

Me: I'm flying coach soFuck you

Bellamy: I don't feel bad for you

Me: Wow, you're curedI'm better at this therapy thing than I thought

Bellamy: Ha ha.I hope the tone came across thereAnyway, I don't feel bad for you because you're richI assume you flew first class when you were a kidAlso I have to switch to airplane modeYou're boarding soon?

Me: Pretty soon, yeah

Bellamy: CoolSee you in Ohio

Me: Can't wait

*

siriusly-jily: omgkarakaradid u see the new bellamy pics????

supreme-girl-wonder: probably notI'm out of town for the weekendand pretty drunkwhat happened?

siriusly-jily: he's at some airport in ohioidk why, there aren't any cons or anythingwhat's in ohio????

supreme-girl-wonder: maybe he has a lifein ohiofor some reason

siriusly-jily: no wayactors exist only for our benefit :Panyway, he's got a gf :(people are saying it's clarke griffinthe vp's daughter

supreme-girl-wonder: wowam I just drunk or is that a lot of conclusions to jump to

siriusly-jily: check it outhttp://remus-lupin-lady.tumblr.com/post/138742714390/omg-omg-omgthere's more of him with fans but lbrthat's A LOT of huggingand I googled, it does look like the VP's daughter

supreme-girl-wonder: if they were dating they probably wouldn't be having their reunion in an airport in ohiojust saying

siriusly-jily: truuuuuuuuuuuuuuokay I gotta go to bedhave fun with whatever thing you're doing

supreme-girl-wonder: will dokeep me posted on Bellamy pics

*

Jasper: did you really bring FAMOUS ACTOR AND KNOWN DREAM BOAT BELLAMY BLAKE to this wedding???

Me: NopeHe brought me

Jasper: ohwellthat was my second guessgrats on landing a celebritybut I guess you're a celebrity too???so it makes sense

Me: You must be this famous to ride Are you coming over for video games?

Jasper: yes obvomw

*

Anonymous asked: omg kara do you follow m&m media??? they posted pix of them w bellamy and the vp's daughter??? apparently they're engaged??? im so heartbroken rn plz help

supreme-girl-wonder answered: Don't panic, anon! M&M have said they went to college with him like ten billion times. Quick google search says VP's daughter did too. So they're probably at a reunion or something. And let's be real, if you were posing for a picture with him, you'd want to be as close as possible too.

*

Raven: SooooooYou took off early last night

Me: Not THAT earlyWe danced a bunchI think Bellamy made a lot of dreams come true

Raven: Including yours?Seriously, I can't believe you never fucked him

Me: I was going to, but his mom diedBetter late than never, right?

Raven: [confetti emoji]Seriously I'm happy for you guysOne-time thing or?

Me: NoDefinitely notWe're going to try to dateIf we can make it workAnd if nothing elseNon-stop sex for the rest of the weekend

Raven: Well, we're doing breakfast in an hourSo make sure you come up for air so we can make fun of you

Me: You make it sound so funGetting breakfastInstead of having sex with my TV star boyfriend

Raven: One hourIf you're not there I'm going to break into your hotel room and post pics on tumblr

Me: OkaySee you in an hour

Raven: [kiss emoji]

*

natsukashii-na asked: Random question but do you have a gf now?? You've been reblogging some couple-y stuff and I was just wondering haha sorry if that's weird

supreme-girl-wonder answered: Boyfriend, actually! Bisexuality: it's awesome. But yeah, we've been together for about a month and it's going really well. Long distance right now but I'm moving in with him in a couple weeks. I'm really excited.

Tagged: #I know that sounds fast but #trust me #it definitely took us long enough

*

Anonymous asked: doesn't your bf mind that you're really into bellamy blake :/

supreme-girl-wonder answered: He'll live.

[sarasa-cat]

Right.

So I can POST the above without commentary but I said nothing about reblooping it and adding commentary!  ;D

Right. So, POVs. Love playing with voices that have a strong sense of personhood. The partial scene snippets above are all partial. And, as usual, there are “writer workshop” exercises imbedded in the writing in less than obvious ways.

As for the scenes above, long one in the diner -- it’s a diner if not obvious in what I copypasta’ed -- that scene goes on for a while but where I cut above leaves with a nice punch. those other bits are literally cookie-cut from MUCH larger scenes. all chapter 1. working on chapter 1 and 3 this weekend. these are LONG chapters. outline is 20 chapters long.

ANYHOW.  What I’m about to say is NOT obvious in anything I’ve cut into that draft sampler pack. The sampler pack is more about fun with voices.

So, the thing:

What’s ... interesting about writing Even the Littlest Monsters, and I say this more from all the planning for the past 2.75 months rather than the specific words written, is how weirdly personal a lot of it is yet how the personal bits will almost certainly fly under the radar.

Like, idk, the reader will see a story about two very different women (Yuffie, Lucrecia) having very different flavored friendships-->relationships with the same dude (Vincent, albeit mortal Turk Vincent, and immortal chaos/beast Vincent). And then there are all of their other relationships:  Vincent’s difficult yet loving relationship with his father Grimoire. Lucrecia’s difficult yet supportive relationship-->marriage to Hojo. Hojo’s hatred toward the Valentine family and Vincent’s “this is ridiculous, let’s just stop this shit” attitude toward Hojo’s issues(tm). Vincent’s memories of growing up. His college roommate. etc. And then in the present time, Vincent and Yuffie’s relationships with all of AVALANCHE, with Yuffie’s father, with the world as it is, etc. etc.

Basically, the reader will see a story about people being people with lots and lots people, although the story features (a) an exploration of an old relationship (Vin/Lu) that crashed and burned hard and messy, and (b) a slow burn build of a new relationship that really is not ready for prime time until some years pass, and both of them know this so its ... well, i played a lot with the outline for more than a month and half but finally decided to push things right to the edge of my discomfort zone. Yuffie is almost 19 in Monsters when Yuffie & Vincent go from battle-buddy partners/friends to "friends with benefits” but that implodes rather quickly, and it isn’t until after Dirge that they are both (cough-- both) mature enough for an long term romantic/sexual relationship. (outline for them ended up in this 50x1 fic).

But what the reader won’t see -- haha -- or will GUESS INCORRECTLY -- is how much much closer all of these character’s experiences are to my own collection of personal and closely observed lived experiences. 

And, no. I’ve never pulled anything that Lucrecia does in this fic nor would I (she is so unlike me the way I’m writing her). Also, no, the age gap between Yuffie/Vincent doesn’t reflect my own LTR situation. So, no. None of that.  Never been suicidal at any point in my life, nor has my partner, and that topic comes up a couple times in this story partially because of canon (Lucrecia) and partially because of Vincent (...inference caused headcanon). Although the topic of suicide has certainly touched life, including life in academia.

So, when I say personal, it’s just so many subtle things. The way I have crafted some of the characters, some of their childhood memories, etc.  Or things I have observed way too closely and never wanted to step in while trying to get my own professional work done (...Lucrecia...).  Or phone calls my lab (science, academia) previous took and didn’t want to take and omfg. just omfg. Or so many of the class observations/dynamics that are probably going to end up in ever chapter because I cannot write fanfic without having a shit-ton of socioeconomic class observations. Or ... oh god. Even subtle things in personalities.

Okay, I’m not going to talk about two age gapped relationships IRL I know well that are both perfectly fine: one going strong after two decades, another came and went without any issue at all -- but both of those are always in my mind when I dance around the whole Yuffie/Vincent matter. {I typed something more here and then deleted it ... i .... this is tumblr after all}

And then there are the personalities and cultural experiences of Yuffie and Vincent when put into my hands. I cannot even begin to talk about how much this draws from a personal well because I don’t have words and inferences made by whomever is reading this will be wrong. (Trust me, I know from experience).

Really, without explaining why, this has got to me one of the more personal pieces of fiction I have written except everything is SO FICTIONALIZED, SO COMPOSITED (multiple RL people composited into each character) or SO FANTASTIC/”IMAGINATIVE” that if I say “this is really personal” the reader is probably gonna pick out ALL THE WRONG PARTS as the personal bits while assuming all of the personal parts are imagined. Or, idk. I cannot explain.

Actually, I refuse to explain.

;D

But what I will say is this:  so much of my other fanfic (my other orig fic is ... different) is far more observational and FAR less personal. Sure, parts of me are in those stories but ... not like this.

Not like this.

Nope.

Yet what I find so interesting is the ways I am using fiction, including silly fantastic fiction to hide so much stuff. idk.

Oh, yeah, plus, I refuse to write fanfic if it isn’t also a (faux) workshop sort of exercise in structure and/or style. So that’s all over this. I won’t explain the deets but it is. This is such a piece of workshop fiction style wise. But that’s fine. That’s what I use fanfic for because I tend to dislike the prose fiction workshops I go to. so I just steal the exercises and red them in fandom on my own. sad sigh.

Still thinking about what I do and do not want to say about my current Writing about Writing.

Mostly just want to get back to writing given my long weekend. The POV characters I am playing with in Monsters are a certain kind of joy to write. The problem is that whenever I start looking for words to describe the flavor of Vincent (spans canon, so includes younger Turk Vincent) I’m writing or the kind of Yuffie and my spin on Lucrecia, it’s just … meta-descriptive words just feel wrong. All I can give are drafted (emphasis on DRAFT) bits.

(okay, lots of fic bit draft behind the cut)

AND DRAFTS ALWAYS HAVE TYPOS SO.   T___T

Plus all drafts are subject to change.

It just is what it is. It’s hot of the scrivener typed this weekend draft.  sigh.

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