#sorry it's not a more specific reference to the fic.... but hopefully you can tell what chapter i had just read when i drew this

[theharrowing]

White Lies

Yoongi is everything you could ask for. He is attractive, confident, and smart. And his partner Taehyung is as possessive as he is beautiful. Too bad a relationship would be a major conflict of interest.

You need to have them, at all costs.

🤍 Yoongi x Female Reader x Taehyung

🤍 word count: work in progress (currently 10.5k words) + images of social media posts & text conversations

🤍 college au, partial social media au with a lot of written story, strangers to lovers & established relationship, yandere, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, angst, slash, poly, minor character injury & death, graphic violence, nsfw, 21+.

🤍 warnings: 🕊 dead dove 🕊. toxic relationships (dishonesty, jealousy, yandere behavior); ACAB includes our MC, sorry you found out this way; corrupt policing. more specific warnings coming soon, pending the release of each chapter.

🤍 part 2 of the Rose-Tinted Obsessions series

🤍 this is a sequel to Boy Blue! i highly recommend that you start at the beginning to fully understand the the dynamic & history between Yoongi & Taehyung. there will be a lot of references to Boy Blue; this fic will spoil the shit out of it. this includes some major character deaths!!! this MC/reader character is not the same MC/reader character from Boy Blue.

🤍 note: all detective work and cop jargon in this fic is either made up on the spot or comes from years of watching/listening to true crime media. i have no credentials in this field and i do not claim to know what i am talking about. for the sake of simplicity & also my sanity, all dialogue that is written and spoken is going to be in English. characters are from Korea and living/working in the US, and we can fill in the gaps between what language they are speaking in which context. also, although i try to keep the mc's physical description vague, i will refer to her as having curves and having hair that can be gripped onto. length and texture will be left vague. places mentioned are completely made up. i may be using actual city and neighborhood names to make it feel real, but every school, bar, etc. is fake and any similarities they have to real places is coincidence.

🤍 also note: this fic is going to be extremely contrived and dramatic, just like its predecessor was. we are not here for award winning story telling; think of it like a trashy daytime soap opera and a gore porn horror film had a baby. obviously, i do not condone the behaviors in this story; it is a work of fiction.

🤍 written parts beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🤍 check out the playlist!

🤍 posted nov. 2023 - present | read on ao3

INDEX

0: Introductions | 0 words + screencaps

1: Do not, under any circumstances, become emotionally attached to either of these men | 2.9k words + screencaps

— TaeGi POV 1: What the fuck is this??? | 0 words + screencaps

2: Sleep sweet, pretty | 7.4k words + screencaps

UPDATES ARE CURRENTLY PAUSED!!!

i have been struggling with mental health stuff, grief stuff, and writer's block, and so i am going to lessen how many fics i juggle at once. hopefully it won't be on hiatus for too long. 💜

tag list: @aidam9911 @andrea613 @bangtan-tee-86 @ffion451 @fluffybuns69 @here4kpopfics @icedtaericano @iloverubberduckiez-blog @kiki-zb @lovemeforeternity @mgthecat @moonleeai @mother2monsters @neoneunnajimin @oceansmerchild @unsureofwhathappens 🤍 by asking to join this tag list, you are agreeing that you are at least 18 or older and that you are comfortable engaging in dead dove content. please tell me at any time if you would like to be removed and i will be happy to pull you off.

White Lies copyright 2021-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. No translations or reposts are allowed!

[tumblweeds-omegaverse]

assorted thoughts on omegaverses and identity

tl;dr - if queerness is what's outside of the norm, then who and what gets to be queer in omegaverse? that depends! on what? the universe itself. but also the wishes of the person writing it.

also, omegaverse as a trope has vague norms, things that are associated with it in general. (not rules but markers?) if the thing you're thinking of would surprise you if treated as "standard" in a random a/b/o fic or book, you can probably queer code it!

very long version below! seriously, this is long for what it is, and I probably could have written more if the original didn't get eaten by my phone last night. (thoughts may be jumbled or repeat, sorry)

◇

One of the most fun things about omegaverse, for me, has become how it throws things in a box and shakes em around.

What's it mean to be straight or gay in our world? Which group is someone referring to when they say, "I'm attracted to women" or "I'm primarily into men romantically?"

Yeah, I know what it means in general, but what does that specific person intend with those words? I do think there can be a difference.

Omegaverse can help with questioning my real assumptions by nudging me to ask, "What does this mean in this context?" For characters, for societies, and for worlds.

What happens when the signals of who "belongs" in each group change? What shifts when there are more variables?

What even is straight or gay in omegaverse? Depends.

◇

First up: what does it mean to be attracted to a dynamic within a certain verse? Before that can be get answered, there's another question: how do people know what dynamic someone else is?

Is it based on visuals? The body type or shape? What they wear? How they move? Coloration? Height or weight? Are these seen as generalities or treated like requirements? Could a character tell someone else was an alpha while they're blindfolded?

Is it based on olfactory info? Are there scents that signal it? Does it work within arm reach, inside a comfortable conversation range, from across a room, from the other side of a busy street? Is it the same as someone's scent? Are there pheromones involved? Could a character figure it out even through a bad head cold?

Is it based on sound? Are there noises that only one dynamic makes? Is there something about a voice that serves as a tell? Has the society set things up where certain phrasings or pronouns are associated with a dynamic? Would a person wearing headphones know despite the blockage?

Is it all of those things? None of them? A combo?

And then, which ones are associated with sexes instead of dynamics? Are the two similar or separated some way?

Why's it even matter?

◇

(disclaimer: this next bit is about people labeling themselves straight, gay, queer, etc. its identity markers, not behavior, that i'm talking about. i have thoughts about society labeling people in response to perceptions, too!)

Because, when people in our world say "I'm attracted to women," it's not like they mean every woman. But there's still a loose bundle of associated traits they're referring to. A capacity to maybe like some people out of a deeply diverse group. Things that, if they're missing or on another scale, the spark of attraction is less likely, maybe nearly impossible.

Before they can be attracted to a woman, they have a concept of which attractive people ping to them as women in the first place. Not in a demanding "you can't be a woman without this and this!" way, but in a "the traits I find attractive are things usually associated with people who are women" way. What are those traits, to that person?

(am I over analyzing this? yup! 🎊 i'm weird so it's fun!)

More importantly: if a person identifies as a specific thing, it's because it means something to them. There's some purpose it serves - either it adds to how they interact with others, or it helps clarify something about the self. In our world it's (hopefully!) impolite at best to tell somebody that they aren't who they say they are. Our labels hold meaning to us, and help us find commonality with others, and communicate which things we have words for.

(personal example: I haven't always used aroace as a term for myself. But my lived experience is definitely a closer fit to the aroace umbrella than the normative one. There could be someone very similar to me who puts a different word to their experiences, and that's fine. We would be focusing on different parts of our stories.)

◇

When it comes to labels as identity, within omegaverse, I think there's a number of directions it could go:

Attraction to sexes - male, female, etc

Attraction to dynamics - alpha, beta, omega, etc

Are there attractions present in the first place?

In general, I figure that the "main" labels say something about the attractions towards other dynamics. Just because of how important dynamics are treated in most things containing a/b/o tropes. Additional info comes in the form of labels within that umbrella.

◇

Looking at works tagged as omegaverse or a/b/o, there's some patterns, right?

Many relationships are alpha/omega, and the sexes of the people involved don't seem to change that.

In other words, it's less common to see a story where a male alpha is looked down on for pairing with a male omega. It's more common for there to be issues from other people if a male alpha is partnered with another alpha.

So, dynamic-based queerness is more impactful to the characters and/or the story. Queerness based on assigned sex may exist but might not be touched on. Things can vary based on verse, but it's what I've seen most.

That means that an alpha attracted to other alphas might identify as gay in order to signal that difference from the norm. Being into omegas as an alpha is normative, closer to what we see as straight, so anything that's not that? It's queer coded - if you want it to be.

Whether a male alpha who is interested in male omegas would identify as straight or not, is harder to put a finger on for me. It's part of why I think identity labels would say something about what the character finds meaningful.

This alpha could say they're straight if most of their attraction is toward traits connected to omegas. Or they could use gay if most attractions are towards masculine traits. Or it could be something else entirely!

(and this is all assuming that everybody is cis! adding trans characters, gender non conformity, identities outside of or beyond the binary? going into intersections between genders and dynamic and race and assigned sexes? shake that box even more! take nothing for granted! wheeee /excited)

◇

About umbrella labels and microlabels:

As a real world comparison, somebody can decide to say, "I'm asexual." That could be their one and only label - no talk on gender or sexes, no romantic attraction markers, just ace. There can also be somebody who says "I'm asexual" in one situation, but in another, they get specific. Demisexual homoromantic still isn't normative, and it's still ace, so they belong under that umbrella. So does someone who says "I'm aegosexual" and doesn't use the asexual label often. Each one is communicating something different, perhaps to various people at different times.

There's no reason why this couldn't be present in omegaverse, especially if there are six "common" options known to everyone.

◇

Where it gets really fun to roll this ball around in my head -

What if m/m and f/f are queer too but not in the same way?

Where do betas fall in all this?

Are there particular intersections that get specific types of stories told about them? How does that change the character's relation to their labels, both chosen ones and ones given to them?

For example: Do male alphas with male omega partners have a different experience than female alphas with female omega partners? What about m/m omega pairs versus m/m alpha pairs versus m/m beta pairs?

Is it possible in the verse to see two people and identify them wrong? If a character sees a masculine looking alpha with a masculine looking beta, are they going to act differently on finding out that one of the two is female? Which option gets the most backlash, if any, and what does that say about the view of masculine females of that dynamic and who they partner with?

Does a female omega who is attracted to betas and alphas identify as straight? Does that change based on the preferred sexes? Would this person identify based on interest or on what they're not attracted to?

Is it less normative for a beta to be attracted to other betas, or to alphas, or to omegas? Would a beta who only is interested in betas be gay or straight? Would they use straight and gay similarly to our world, or in some other way?

If a female beta is self-labeled as a lesbian, for her personally, who does that include? Female alphas? Male omegas? Only other female betas? Are female omegas included? What is she communicating through her label? What does that say about how people in her world view "same" and "different" attractions?

Do people label their sexual or romantic or other attractions the way we would at all? Or is it so different within their society that the terms don't map, and the info shared is about something else?

◇

So, that was a lot, with no answer besides "depends! lol". But because there's no ultimate rules of what makes a setting an omegaverse setting, that means you can design it however you like, and then create or borrow terms to fit!

I'm pretty sure I've seen posts of crafted terms for things like "attraction to alphas" or "omega attracted to omegas" so those could help. I think it's also possible to use some of the same logic behind queer microlabels and create your own!

For example, isoeidyllic could label "a person who is romantically attracted to the same dynamic." I literally just stole the "iso-" prefix from Greek and added it to the word for romance. An alternative could be equiromantic? With equiro as a shorthand. (not sure if that's a word in another language but probably good to check!)

Or you could keep it simple and do a4a, b4o, and similar for people without multi attractions. I don't see anything wrong with using pan, omni, poly, and other existing prefixes for people with multiple attractions either.

◇

I haven't made terms yet, but I'd like to. The issue for me is that they'd all be unique to their settings. I keep making each one juuuust different enough where the definitions wouldn't fit neatly...if "what or who is an alpha?" changes, then the labels used to describe attraction to an alpha would also be different, or at least, organized around different ideals, right?

Quick examples:

setting 1: alphas can be any sex or gender, dynamic is signified by scent cues and pheromones, attraction labels are used to signal what one isn't attracted to due to the number of combos. (12 in total)

setting 2: alphas are masculine coded but can be any gender, dynamic cues are scent oriented with build secondary, so attraction labels are used to signal what scent families one is attracted to.

setting 3: alphas are considered male no matter their gender expression because dynamic has taken the "role" of assigned sex at birth, dynamic cues are linked to visuals and scent about equally, labeling is based on behavior rather than on identity.

Whyyyy do I keep making it impossible to reuse my own work? Though that probably explains why I'm researching the speed of wagon travel and technology levels by century and various biomes and what scent families are and animal symbolism, instead of actually writing...or outlining...or finishing character notes...hahaha.

I mean, I'm having fun, but setting 1 has been going through various changes since October of 2023 and I certainly can't write my scenes where the cast bond at a festival if I haven't figured out how people celebrate yet, or what clothes they wear during which seasons, or what foods they eat on special occasions, right? I should at least know in a vague sense...right?

Right??? 😭

(help i am trapped in worldbuilder limbo /affectionate??)

also: all of this was sparked by somebody else's post that showed up on my dash with no notes and I didn't reblog because I was at work with too many thoughts and now I can't find it 🫠

[definitelynotshouting]

Hello again! My ADHD has decided that the Hunger AU is to be my newest hyperfixation, and as such I have some more questions/interpretations I'd like to push forward, if that's alright. As always, no pressure in responding, and I hope this ask is fun to read :)

First off, I was going through some of your Listener posts for Reasons and I noticed a little tidbit in one of them: Watchers cannot feed off of the emotions of Listeners. If this is still the case, why were Martyn and BigB in the Life Games, if Grian can't feed on them, and were their mindsets still adversely affected? Could Grian (or theoretically, any Watcher) tell something was Off about them this way?

Another thing I noticed was that all Watchers are essentially clones of each other. Passing by the question of ecological diversity (I might think on that a different time), this implies that Grian, or at least, the Watcher-larvae that got implanted in him prior to all the code-copying, is a copy of another Watcher. Am I reading this right? Because if so that has implications and I love it.

And finally the biggest thing that's been on my mind: the Void (or the in-between, I've seen both). The space between servers. This thing has vexed and fascinated me since I read chapter one of your fic months ago. I think I've come to my own interpretations on the space, but I'd love to hear what you have plotted as well. For example, you mentioned that Developer Crystals are sort of hubs for servers - considering how you talked about it, the number of servers they can support must be pretty high. I've come to think of it kind of like a galaxy - and elliptical galaxy to be specific. Is this a correct way to think about it?

You've mentioned that being out in the in-between is dangerous for those not prepared - how much training does it take to be a Voidwalker? How does inter-server travel for regular players work? Are there extra steps that need to be taken when traveling from one Crystal's hub to another?

And on a personal interpretation note, I interpret the Void as looking kind of like space (as you often refer to in your work), but also... not. Specifically, when you talked about Developer Crystrals, I imagined them looking kind of like the Paths from Attack on Titan, just minus the ground (and being a lot bigger).

One final question, since it's been bothering me for ages: how does the ground work in the Void? It's been killing me since chapter 1.

Sorry for the massive ask, but it takes a particular sort of worldbuilding for me to come up with so many questions. I'm really having a fun time working with these rules - so thank you for making them!

Heyo!! I finally got a chance to answer this, which ive been trying to do since you sent it but unfortunately real life had other plans 😂😂😂 but i have the time and brain now, so here are hopefully some satisfying answers to your questions!!! :D

1.) BigB becoming a Listener was relatively recent; he was still a Player when he got pulled into the life games. As for Martyn, i think that because Listeners are so new, he was probably the first one Grian had ever encountered (at the time of 3rd Life at least). So he didn't realize he couldn't feed off of Martyn's emotions-- all he saw, in that half-frantic frenzy of "i need to eat right fucking now," was hey, i know that guy, and he's also in close proximity to BigB, so Grian sorta automatically pulled him in.

Afterwards, I'd say once Grian figured out he couldn't feed from him, he still ended up pulled in the next two times because of the familiarity (and because for as much as Grian can't feed off of him, Martyn still causes a lot of edible emotions in other people). But yeah, any Watcher would be able to tell if someone was a Listener!! And Listeners are able to tell if somebody is a Watcher, although their Player usually won't understand what that means beyond "hey theres something Weird going on with that guy."

2.) Yep!! All watchers are structural-code and utility-code copies of each other; their memory codes and surface codes are the only things that differentiate them from one another. This does indeed have some very fun implications to ruminate on fjsbdkdnd

3.) I'm not sure if i would describe dev crystals as a "hub," if only because that sorta implies that they're habitable-- but they are indeed the center of each server cluster, and i would honestly say the description of an elliptical galaxy is totally spot on :] they can indeed maintain a high amount of servers, but if the count grows too high then they can overload and stop processing the flow of unraveled code as efficiently, which can then cause backups, which then make them blow up, which is. obviously, pretty not good akdnwkdjek

Think of the void between servers as the bottom of the ocean. Absolutely crushing depths, the kind that will kill you in an instant if you don't have the right protective gear. Voidwalkers are basically people who are so good at coding that they can keep their code from getting pulverized and walk right through it like they're taking a casual morning stroll. It takes a ton of effort and energy to do, and is very dangerous-- i would say you have to be EXCEPTIONALLY quick-thinking, an efficient multitasker, and have a lot of practical foresight to achieve it without dissolving. Hence why there aren't many of them, and I'd honestly say Xisuma is probably one of, if not the, best. The fact that he was able to take five people including himself into the in-between, and keep them all alive, is INSANE. Brother outdid himself truly

As for interserver travel, thats something im currently working on lore-wise (and will hopefully be able to post about soon)!!! But the basic gist im working off of right now is that there are servers that act as server hubs, or waystations-- basically servers whose only purpose is to act as an in between point to access other servers. I'm toying with the idea of special portals called launchers, and the concept of zip files/share folders + creating folds in the fabric of the Greater Code to cross vast distances within a short distance. If you've read A Wrinkle In Time, thats the sorta thing im thinking of. But unfortunately right now its all spaghetti in my brain, so im still working on straightening that out until i can explain my thoughts coherently 💀💀💀💀

I can say rn that travel between dev crystals and their server clusters is not possible just yet. The universe is fucking HUGE, and there are countless devs and server clusters within it; the ability to travel between them isnt quite feasible right now, but it'll get there eventually :] not within the scope of the main story, though-- all of that fully takes place in this single corner of the universe

For dev crystals themselves, i picture them looking a lot like giant end crystals!!! the thought is that end crystals are basically like. a mini version of a dev, and that the beams you see healing the ender dragon are bursts of raw code pulled in from the rest of the server. so yeah, end crystals except massive on a scale we can barely comprehend and also ten million times more explosive (and more capable of handling the stability of an entire server cluster so it doesnt collapse in on itself)

4.) LAST BUT NOT LEAST. I. will fully admit when i wrote the walking on the void it was, at the time, a purely aesthetic choice. But i am legitimately thinking now about the implications of that, and toying with a few concepts that i wanna noodle on more before i fully commit to them. Sorry for leaving it a mystery for now!!!! 😂😂😂😂 it'll probably get answered in the post i'll eventually make about launchers and interserver travel

hope these were helpful and continue fueling your brainrot!!! thanks for being patient while i wrangled my brain enough to answer them :]❤️❤️❤️❤️

[allthatglittersisnotgoldrush]

So I have to send this to you because I was talking about your fic with my therapist today!

I’ve been thinking about something I actually commented on your fic already. That Mae’s problem is that he has been too many people in the course of his life. He has always based his self worth on who he can be for the needs of the person around him: he does t think he deserves his existence just for the sake of existing, he only deserves to exist if he can be exactly what someone else needs. And as his father instilled in him obedience from childhood, ultimately this all becomes a tool for Bauglir to use against him. In a way, bauglir ultimately succeeded in making Mae believe that who he really is at his core is a slave, a murderer and a monster but more than that, who he really is IS BAUGLIR’S. And so he desperately finds himself trying to fight that, trying to prove that there is another reason behind his existence but the problem is that he had never really believed he deserved to live at all, even when he was mostly happy.

What’s worse is that he can’t even trace his existence back to his body anymore because his body has been carved into something belonging to someone else. He doesn’t apply this to Estrella because he believes that she already deserves her life just for being her, but that’s not the case for him and never has been.

I talked about this with my therapist today because I feel like this is a feeling that many people, including myself actually struggle with, and I thank you for writing about it as beautifully as you have 💜

I (TolkienGirl) can't tell you how often the author groupchat has discussed this ask since we received... sorry for taking so long to respond. Half-jokingly, half-seriously, we've often referred to writing the AU as a therapeutic exercise... especially since we began about a year before Covid lockdowns, and it became such a delightful escape and means of catharsis during the height of the pandemic. So, just wanted to start this out by saying thank you for sharing such a personal connection/interaction with our work as bringing it to your therapist! That's really amazing and gratifying to hear.

As usual, all your observations about Maedhros are spot-on. Even before he underwent horrific physical and psychological torture, he had been shaped by such oppressive forces. As you said, "He has always based his self worth on who he can be for the needs of the person around him"--this is exactly what Feanor expected from his son, just as he himself received such accomodation from Finwe, and Nerdanel was too overwhelmed (and sometimes too complicit) to defend Maedhros from this treatment.

It's been very fascinating to write post-Doriath Mae... he's really angry, I think, that he can only start to forge an identity for himself after so much loss (of health and wellbeing and loved ones, but also of self). He also thought that Doriath would be an opportunity for him to show that he was his own man, but he ended up pantomiming a lot of the same slave-like submission and malleability that he grew to hate so much in connection with Morgoth and Feanor.

"What’s worse is that he can’t even trace his existence back to his body anymore because his body has been carved into something belonging to someone else." This makes me SO sad, I don't even know what to say but just. It's exactly right, and how to even survive this kind of mistreatment is, I think, where the therapeutic part of writing comes in. Even though hopefully no reader has gone through any of the specific traumas described, the themes can ring true.

Please keep your thoughts coming, and please don't be deterred if we neglect to write back quickly! We love to hear from you.

[acnl-draws]

a lil sketch i drew last year after i read @fury-brand 's Wars Waged in Us and a certain chapter gave me a lot of feelings 🥺 (a wonderful fic btw, go read it!!)

Thought I'd post it to support the aeriseph week going on rn ❤️🥰

[house-of-laminations]

A not-so-quick how-to for Ao3 work skins

Ao3 has some pretty powerful customization tools at your disposal - if you know how to use them. Did you know this entire time you could change your text colors, size, background colors, outlines, underlines, overlines, and even fonts of your works? It's fairly easy to do - you only need a little knowledge about markup languages to get started. The way this is done is through classes and the clever application of some simple CSS. Though I've written this guide around using my Obey Me coloring and work skin, the principles are applicable across anything you may want to do with your Ao3 styling.

I've done all the heavy lifting this time around, and have actually created a very, very simple skin that you may want for the purposes of your Obey Me fic including:

Unique colors for each character (sticking to WCAG 1:3 minimum contrast ratio for accessibility)

Heading font and size styling (separate from character colors)

Styled 'pullquotes' for written letters/passages/quotes (at 75% size)

Make sure to keep checking back for updates - I'll put word out here on my tumblr whenever I update, but I've also created a codepen (work skin CSS found in the CSS tab) with the latest version of the skin that you can use to play around in.

Just a heads up before you start: there is a bit of a learning curve, but I have tried to make the explanation as simple as possible, and hopefully provide enough tools and knowledge that you can run with what I've given you and start creating your own styles.

1. Markup: The Basics

I'm sorry - no matter how simple I try to make this work skin, you're going to need at least a little understanding of what markup languages are and how they work. But don't fret: I've had a few years experience now teaching this to absolute beginners so hopefully by the end of this tutorial you'll be feeling like a real Hackerman.

So what is Markup? A tl;dr

Markup is a set of instructions used to tell a program (in this case your internet browser) how something should behave. HTML stands for Hypertext Markup Language and is likely the markup language you'll encounter most often. Ordinary text like you would type in a word document is meaningless to a computer browser - it doesn't know how to read. You need to talk to it in a language it understands so that it can translate your wonderful words into something that appears in your browser. This is done through the use of 'elements'.

Like how you know "words captured in these quotation marks" are quotes (or text written in parentheses is related to but non-essential to the main body), elements are essentially markers that indicate how a thing should be read. In HTML, these elements are denoted through angular brackets <> containing the necessary info that your browser understands. These often consist of an opening tag <[element type]>with content within, followed by a closing tag</[element type> denoted through the use of the "/" slash. Every element that has been opened must always be closed. Common tags include:

<p></p> for paragraphs

<em></em> for emphasis (typically displayed as italic)

<strong></strong> for strong (typically displayed as bold)

<h1></h1> for your highest headline (and subsequent-level headings use 2-6)

<div></div> for generic sections or blocks

<span></span> for specific selections of text.

<a></a> for anchors (links)

<img> containing images <- this one doesn't have closing tags because it's special

and more!

Everything you see on the internet rests within tags like these. You don't see them because they're only for your browser's eyes. Even your fics are formatted with this - though Ao3 does it automatically. You can freely switch between Markup (HTML) and Rich Text Formatting up in the top right corner.

Attributes

Attributes are additional information you can add to an element. Some attributes are essential, like a href (hyperlink reference) for anchor elements. Some are additional information used to differentiate between different identical elements like a class or id. It's this latter, non-essential attribute we're going to be utilizing for our work skins.

Once you have your fic in Ao3, make sure to switch over to the html editor. From there, you are going to find the element that you want to change the look of, and we're going to add a class.

We do this by finding the open tag of an element. That will probably be a <p>. Inside those angular brackets, after the name of the element, we are going to type class=""

What we've done there is create a field for the class, but we haven't actually given the element a class yet.

It's always a good idea to name classes that describe the content, not what you want it to look like. You could change your mind down the line, but then you're stuck with a class called red that's really changing the color to blue. So rather than calling a class "gold", you might instead give it the name "Mammon" as it indicates when Mammon is speaking. This is known as Semantic markup.

Here's a few things you need to know about classes:

Class names cannot contain spaces. We use spaces to delineate new classes in the same element (like commas to separate tags on tumblr).

You can use as many classes as you want, as many times as you want.

They are case-sensitive.

You can add classes to all most html elements. That means that you don't have to just make entire paragraphs a particular style.

I have already specified several classes in my existing work skin. These are [Luci Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie Dia Barb Luke Sol Sim Heading pullQuote] - remember that these are case-sensitive. Feel free to use any one of these, or use your own! Put your chosen class name between those quotation marks I had you make earlier like so!

These don't actually do anything just yet. For that, we need to now head on over into our work skin.

2. Introducing the work skin: CSS

Now that we hopefully have our heads wrapped around the basics of elements and classes, we can start using that to make things look interesting. CSS stands for Cascading Style Sheet. HTML gives the browser structure, CSS gives the browser style.

But first, we have to create a new work skin.

Go to your Ao3 Dashboard and up in the top left underneath "Profile" and "Preferences" you should see an option for Skins. It'll land land you in "site skins" by default, so make sure to click on My Work Skins. From here you can click on Create Work Skin in the top right corner.

In the "About" section, make sure Work Skin is selected, and give your new skin a title!

Feel free to also include a description for your own sake. Now. Onto the fun part!

Below the "About" section, you should see a box labelled CSS. In that box, feel free to copy+paste the styles below into that box:

#workskin .Luci { color: #0071ed;}

#workskin .Mammon { color: #e5a71c;}

#workskin .Levi { color: #e26600;}

#workskin .Satan { color: #00c117;}

#workskin .Asmo { color: #ff00bd;}

#workskin .Beel { color: #e80b00;}

#workskin .Belphie { color: #4f08b5;}

#workskin .Luke { color: #00c0ed;}

#workskin .Dia { color: #9b0000;}

#workskin .Barb { color: #007215;}

#workskin .Sim { color: #c1ac44;}

#workskin .Sol { color: #757575;}

#workskin .Heading { font-size: 1.25em;}

#workskin .pullQuote { text-align: center; font-size: 0.75em; display: block;}

This can also be found in the CSS section in this codepen. (disclaimer: tumblr may or may not mess with the line spacing when you copy things over. After you've copied, save your work skin and then reopen it in "edit" - Ao3 will automatically format your work so that it's nice and clean).

So what's actually happening here?

Let's read from left-to-right, top-to-bottom - because that's precisely what CSS does. Feel free to skip this part if you're not interested in creating your own styles and you're happy to just copy and paste existing work skins :)

#workskin .Luci { color: #0071ed; }

This first part here is what is called a "selector". Here, we're specifying what exactly we want to target in order to change its looks. Every character, including the spaces, symbols, and capitals matter.

#workskin .Luci { color: #0071ed; }

#workskin is specifying a unique ID within the HTML - one that encapsulates everything that you want to apply the work skin to - so basically your entire work. This is absolutely necessary in order for the work skin to actually function. We didn't create this ID in our HTML because Ao3 (will) create it for us automatically down the line.

#workskin .Luci { color: #0071ed; }

Following the work skin id, we have a space, a period, and then - hey! That's a class name! The space between the ID selector and the next part indicates we're looking for things inside this particular ID. Periods are used to indicate classes. When targeting a class, you use the period, followed by the class name. So if you're targeting your Levi class, you would write #workskin .Levi . If you were targeting a class that you created in your html, you would write #workskin .[classname] (removing the square brackets, of course).

#workskin .Luci { color: #0071ed; }

Now it's time for the fun stuff - the rules. Once we've targeted what we want to style with our selector, we use curly brackets to contain all the "rules" that we're using to make the browser appear a certain way.

#workskin .Luci { color: #0071ed; }

We start with our property - or what we want to change. In this case it's the text colour, denoted through 'color'. Yes. It's American spelling. I have no control over this. Find a simple list of css properties here! There's loads, but the ones that are probably of most use to you at this point are color, font-size, font-weight, text-align, text-decoration, and display. Make sure to put a colon after the property - that links us into the next step.

#workskin .Luci { color: #0071ed; }

Finally, we have our value - or what we're asking the property to do. In this case, we're changing the color, so the value is a hex color value. Color can also be denoted through rgb [written as rgb(0,0,0)]. Different properties will have different values. For example, text-align can have a value of left, right, or center (note the Americanized spelling again). If you click on the property in this list, it will tell you what values you can use!

You can have as many rules as you want in your selectors, as long as you end each of them with a semicolon. I cannot stress the semicolon enough. If your CSS isn't working - it's probably a missing semicolon. An example of multiple rules being used within one selector is in the pullquote styling:

#workskin .pullQuote { text-align: center; font-size: 0.75em; display: block; }

You can even write rules that override each other, though we try and avoid doing that. When this happens, your CSS will read from top-to-bottom, prioritizing the latest thing it has read (typically your bottom-most). There are exceptions to this, but that's not necessary for this guide.

So by this point you should have copied over the CSS I've written into your work skin, or perhaps tried your hand at making your own. This would be a good point to save.

3. With our Powers Combined

Right! So we have our work skin. We have our work formatted properly, resplendent with classes. Here's how we get these things talking to each other:

Once you've saved and closed your new work skin, open up or post the work you would like to apply the styling to. Down the bottom of the Associations section, there is an option to Select Work Skin. Ao3 already provides some work skins by default - Homestuck and Undertale - but you should be able to select your new work skin from this dropdown.

Now here's the magic. Time to check if this worked. Go through and make sure you've applied your classes to each of the elements you want to change the look of. These can be <p> elements, <em> elements, <strong> elements, or you can even make new, unique sections using <span>. Save your work as a draft and preview it - if you've done everything right, you should see the sections of text you've added classes to have changed in appearance!

A reminder that you can add multiple classes to one element: say for example you want to create section headings unique to each 'character', you can name both classes in the class field, separated by a space. See the example below:

And that's about it! You can use the same work skin for multiple works - just remember that you should be using the same class names if that's the case. If you create a new class in your html, make sure to go back to your work skin and make some rules for that class!

I've created this codepen that you can play in that is using all the same classes - it also has the work skin in the CSS which you're also very welcome to mess around with.

Ao3 itself has a great guide to using work skins, explaining things just like I did here. The Modzilla Developer Network is a great resource for learning more in-depth about html and css if you want to do weirder and wonderful-er things!

I hope this has been informative and useful! Best of luck using skins in your own fics! 💛

[brad-bakshi-loves-bugs]

hey there!! as someone who loves writing (but never posts) but hates reading OOC fics, i need your advice, if you're willing!

how do you find that pocket of in-character, while still fitting the storyline?

sorry if this sounds delirious and jumbled. I really admire your writing and wafwaf :)

okay, this is going to sound absolutely ridiculous and I have NEVER told anyone this before EVER, and I have no idea if this is something other people do or if im just a fucked up human being, but here me out:

so basically. I roleplay with myself. like, I spend a lot of time alone (which is fine im just a Huge Introvert) and I get bored easily, so when I was a lot younger I would just pretend to be my favorite characters from media and then when I was alone id talk and act like them and pretend to talk to the other characters in their universe. it helped me flesh out their backstories and behaviors, and with the added bonus that it gave my young ADHD brain something to do that wasn't destructive in any way. so like. it's kind of like larping, because im somewhat acting out what im roleplaying, but im not dressing up and it's just me, alone, pacing around my house. in hindsight it IS kind of pathetic and maybe I should tell my therapist about it, but if there's one thing you should know about me it's that I do NOT like being me and so I pretend to be other people as an escape.

well. in doing so, naturally, im going to get better at acting out the mannerisms of each character. and by that point, if you can act it out, then you can write it out. im very much a visual learner, so being able to picture the exact gestures and expressions each character would make while they talk etc helps SO much with writing! and sometimes I even take notes about specific mannerisms I notice while im watching the show (like brad frequently interrupting people, david's voice cracking when he's upset, etc), so that I can reference them while im writing to make sure I stay in character. I also watch a lot of youtube compilations from the show, so even if im not going back and rewatching the whole series, im still exposed to their distinct behaviors and speaking methods. it REALLY helps to just pick one or two characters at a time and study them exclusively, because you tend to notice a lot more about a specific character if your entire focus is on them.

now, could I write ian, or rachel, or poppy well? probably not, because I dont pay attention to their mannerisms when they're on screen since theyre not characters im personally invested in. but when david and especially brad are on screen, you can bet your ass im studying every tiny detail and change in their expression and tone, so that I can recreate that in my writing as necessary. my goal is that people will be able to recognize each character I write with exclusively dialogue and zero names mentioned. like, let me give an example:

"Hey man, did you get that report I sent you earlier?"

"Wh- uh, what report? I didn't get a report. Are you sure you-"

"Yes, I'm sure I sent it."

"Oh. Well then I'll, um, I'll check my email again. Are you sure you sent it to my work email?"

"Well I didn't send it to dirtydave3377@hotmail.com, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh, okay. I'll, uh- I'll get back to you on that report then I guess."

"Thanks."

see? now obviously the email kind of gave away one of the speakers, but hopefully it was more apparent as the dialogue progressed that the first speaker was brad and the responder was david. because david stutters a lot and uses a completely unnecessary amount of filler words when he talks, so he's pretty easy to write! and brad (typically) doesn't talk excessively, so it's common for him to give short responses only a few words in length. I basically write brad like he's perpetually fed up with everyone around him, because that seems most in character to me based on what I see in the show! lots of eye rolling, groaning, and frowning.

my goal in writing is for people to be able to visualize the characters saying what I write for them as if it's quoted directly from the show. now, im not going to claim to always succeed at that, but being able to hyperfixate on these characters helps a lot! so does reading other in-character fanfics, because it's sometimes tough to convert tv show acting into writing. luckily, at least in most fandoms, other people have already done it for you!

whenever im writing, especially when it comes to dialogue, im always picturing the characters in my head. I'm seeing the way their expressions shift, the way their hands gesticulate, the path they walk when theyre moving. im hearing them say the dialogue im writing in their voices, which probably makes me sound absolutely insane but im like 90% sure it's just my ADHD so dont worry! being able to see and hear the characters helps SO much, and I wouldn't write half as well without that skill.

im sorry this turned into such a long ramble! everyone has their own methods of figuring out characters, but roleplaying with myself, visualizing the characters, and studying the show helps me immeasurably.

as an aside, im always happy to beta stuff and check to see if it sounds in-character, and offer pointers/edits for anything that sounds too ooc! I've totally been there before, and obviously im not perfect, but I enjoy helping where I can and at this point ill do pretty much anything to help get more mq fics out in the world LOL

[the-al-chemist]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 57

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: We are back for the final stretch! Just seven chapters left…

David Willows and Artemis’ cousin Matthew (both in mention) belong to @that-scouse-wizard and @hphmmatthewluther, respectively.

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: a lot of bad language, references to cigarettes.

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @lifeofkaze

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell @thatravenpuffwitch @anthamariemayfair @whatwouldvalerydo

If you, if you could return

Don't let it burn, don't let it fade

I'm sure I'm not being rude

But it's just your attitude

It's tearing me apart, ruining everything

~ The Cranberries - Linger ~

Artemis rose with the sun on Saturday morning, awaking in an empty yurt. Andre clearly still wasn’t back from the night before. Shame. She’d have to figure out what to wear by herself.

She had a meeting first thing with the stage manager and organisers of the entire festival in order to discuss the big display tomorrow. Her big display. Lucky for her that she wasn’t the type to get nervous. Even so, Artemis was conscious that this was a big deal. She wanted to look at least semi-professional.

She rummaged through her clothes, and picked out the least tatty looking pair of black shorts and black t-shirt she could find. If she brushed her hair and pulled it back off her face, she hopefully wouldn’t look too scruffy. Besides, they’d surely know that she had to go straight from the meeting to the Equinox soundcheck on the Pyramid stage. Her black work clothes would be fine. They’d have to be fine.

Just as she finished getting ready, there was a knock at the yurt door. Artemis smiled. Charlie. At least she wasn’t going to this meeting alone.

Artemis’ smile widened as she saw that Charlie was also wearing his black tech clothes, but immediately faltered at the look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Did someone die?”

“No, nothing like that,” Charlie laughed and shook his head, before looking sad again. No. Not sad. Guilty.

“Charlie. What’s up?”

“Uh, yeah. So, you know how Ava was meant to be arriving later today, before the show?” Artemis nodded, and Charlie grimaced. “Well, it turns out she’s going to be getting here early.”

“Right,” Artemis frowned. “And?”

“As in, really early. In about an hour, probably.”

“Fine. Why are you telling me this?”

“Because, it means I’m going to have to miss your meeting.”

Artemis felt a dropping sensation in her abdomen. She pursed her lips as Charlie’s words continued to wash over her.

“Look, I know I said that I’d be there, and I don’t want to let you down or anything, but-”

“Why?”

“Why what?” Charlie asked.

“Why can’t you still come to the meeting?”

“Because I have to set up for the soundcheck before she gets here so that I can collect her pass and meet her at the front gates.”

“Can’t someone else go? Lizzie wouldn’t mind doing it, she’s her friend.”

“Yeah, but she’s my girlfriend, and I haven’t seen her in over two months,” said Charlie, shortly.

Artemis’ frown deepened. She was being unreasonable, she knew that. But, even so, Charlie had said that he’d be there, and he knew that this was important. Why did he have to choose now of all times to let her down?

“I really am sorry, Artemis.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“Oh, no. Please don’t be like that.”

“I said right,” said Artemis, louder than she’d intended. “I heard you. I’m not being like anything.”

“Alright,” Charlie nodded. “I mean it, though. I hate that I’m leaving you in the lurch like this.”

A part of Artemis wanted to tell him not to leave her if he really hated doing it so much, but she held her tongue, and instead she told him:

“It’s fine. Can’t be helped.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Thankfully, the doubtful noise Artemis made was covered up by the noise of Andre returning from his night.

“Good morning, darling,” he said, kissing her on the cheek as he breezed into the yurt. He sat at the dressing table, and started to apply some sort of lotion to his face, making eye contact in the mirror. “You know, you really should wear your hair like that more often. It looks lovely when you brush it. You two off for this big meeting, then?”

Charlie looked nervously across at Andre before shaking his head.

“Artemis is,” he said, with a tentative smile. “I’m going to meet Ava.”

“Ooh, that’s exciting. Are you not feeling nervous about going alone, though?”

“Nah, she doesn’t bite,” Charlie said, with a pointed look at Artemis that she didn’t understand.

“I was talking to Artemis, you naughty boy,” Andre grinned in the mirror. Artemis didn’t smile back. “You’ll astound them, sweetheart. Don’t you worry.”

“I’m not worried,” Artemis muttered. “I’m fine.”

Andre and Charlie exchanged looks in the mirror, before Andre reached under the dressing table. He pulled out a folded grey cotton t-shirt and handed it to Artemis.

“Well, this will cheer you up, anyway. Managed to get it from some fiendishly good-looking Korean bloke’s stall in the town. It’s the most horribly tacky thing I’ve ever seen, though.”

Artemis took the t-shirt and unfolded it, the corners of her mouth twitching as she looked at it.

“It’s the perfect amount of tacky,” she said, folding it back up and shoving it into her bag. “Thanks, Andre.”

“You’re welcome as always, darling. Now, go and show them all who’s boss.”

Artemis nodded, and slung her bag over her shoulder, leaving the yurt with Charlie close behind her.

“Don’t you need to go and get your pass?” she asked him, not quite able to keep the anger out of her voice.

“Yeah, but I have soundcheck stuff to do as well, so I’ll walk you to the meeting first. I feel like I owe you that much.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“No, but you know what I mean,” Charlie shrugged. “I just feel bad, that’s all.”

“You said that already.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

They trudged through the mud in silence, Artemis gnawing at her lower lip. The sinking sensation in her belly had turned into a twisting, aching sort of feeling, one that she was all too familiar with. She hadn’t felt this way since she was a teenager, and a young one at that. At least, she hadn’t felt it so strongly since then.

“I’m guessing this means we won’t be going to watch Talbott Winger later, either,” she said, in a small voice.

“We can still do that,” Charlie replied. “I’ll mention it to Ava. I bet she’ll enjoy it, too.”

Artemis said nothing. She didn’t really want to go to watch Talbott Winger with Ava. She didn’t know Ava. She might not like Ava. Right now, she definitely did not like Ava.

Charlie must have taken her lack of response for a desire for quiet, because he didn’t utter another word until they reached the interstage area.

“You’ll be great,” he told her. “Just tell them exactly how you want things to go, and let them see how well you know your shit, alright? You don’t need to be anxious.”

“I’m not anxious.”

“Alright. Good,” Charlie nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.”

Charlie started to walk in the direction of the Pyramid stage, but before he left entirely, he turned back and asked:

“What’s on the t-shirt?”

“Merula’s face,” Artemis replied, completely straight-faced. “I’m going to get her to sign it.”

Charlie shook his head and laughed, before walking away and leaving Artemis all alone.

Of course, she had communicated her ideas and plans for the display with the festival organisers via endless back-and-forth emails, but this was the first time Artemis had met them in person. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting from the meeting, but it went as well as it could, especially considering her growing bad mood. There were a few raised eyebrows at the start - after all, she never had been any good at making small talk - but as soon as she started to discuss her specific effects in more detail, the managers sat up straight, listened intently, and looked impressed.

Artemis left the meeting with her spirits lifted slightly, though she couldn’t help but feel as if it would have been better if Charlie had gone with her. She reckoned that he would actually be good at small talk, and more than anything, she would have liked to have seen the look on his face when she started speaking about her fireworks. It had been a long time since anyone had been proud of her, after all.

Late for the Equinox soundcheck, she hurried back through the interstage area. She had almost reached backstage when a familiar voice called after her.

“Artie!”

Even if she hadn’t recognised the voice, she’d have known who it was. There was only one person in the world who had ever called her that. She turned around to see Charlie several steps behind her, his right hand holding the left of a woman she knew only from photos on a screen.

Ava.

She was taller than Artemis - of course she was - and less scrawny, too. She had very pale blonde hair that was artfully tousled rather than messy, with dainty plaits strewn into it at intentionally random intervals. As she and Charlie drew closer, Artemis noticed that her face had been decorated with gold glitter, which accentuated her pale blue eyes. She was pretty. Really pretty.

“How did the meeting go?” Charlie asked. “I’m sure you aced it.”

Artemis shrugged her shoulders, her wary gaze still fixed on Ava, before replying, “I dunno. Yeah, maybe.”

Charlie nodded encouragingly. Artemis watched as Ava looked at him with an expectant expression on her face.

“Oh, shit. Yeah, sorry. Ava, this is Artemis, my… Well, you’re not my apprentice any more, are you?”

“No.”

“Artemis is my replacement,” said Charlie, with a smile, which only widened as he turned back and looked at Ava. “This is Ava, my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I know,” Artemis muttered. Seeing the single raised eyebrow Ava gave her, she added, “I’ve seen your photo. And Charlie talks about you sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Ava said, both of her eyebrows now raised at Charlie. She smirked, as if something was amusing.

Artemis frowned. She hadn’t said anything funny. Maybe this was one of those jokes couples had that other people didn’t understand. She felt suddenly very alone, more so than she had before Charlie and Ava had turned up.

“Often,” Charlie said, with an impish smile.

“Of course you do,” Ava murmured, and Charlie removed his hand from hers to drape his arm over her shoulder. Artemis averted her eyes. “He talks about you a lot, too.”

Realising that Ava was talking to her, Artemis looked up again. She must have been looking worried, because Ava smiled at her reassuringly.

“All good things, obviously. Apparently you’re really talented.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Well, you’ve impressed Charlie, and he’s not easily impressed,” Ava smiled again. She had very straight, very white teeth, and an accent that was unplaceable, more likely from receiving a good education than from years of being moved from house to house all over the country. “He said that you’re doing the big display tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s amazing.”

“I suppose,” Artemis muttered. Ava blinked and nodded, and Charlie looked downwards, his face lined with a knowing sort of disappointment. Artemis sighed. She shouldn’t be so rude. Charlie was her friend, and he cared about Ava, and it wasn’t like it was Ava’s fault that she’d arrived early. She should make an effort, for Charlie’s sake at least. “Have you been to Glastonbury before?”

“Yes, a couple of times, actually. A couple of years ago, with Charlie and the band, and once when I was at uni.”

“Ava went to Oxford,” Charlie said, and Ava sighed, as if it wasn’t the first time.

“He likes to tell everyone this,” she explained to Artemis.

“Am I not allowed to be proud of you?”

Ava didn’t even look at Charlie, just rolled her eyes, the faintest hint of a smile playing on her lips. His proud smile wasn’t lost on Artemis, however.

“I didn’t go to university,” Artemis said, looking over her shoulder at the door. She had work to do. She didn’t really want to waste any more time having this conversation. “Not clever enough.”

“But you’re very good at setting fire to things,” Charlie said, raising his eyebrows and half-smiling at her.

Artemis narrowed her eyes at him. Was he making fun of her now? She couldn’t tell. She made a non-committal noise and turned away from the happy couple without saying goodbye. She walked fast, eyes down, hands in her pockets, not wanting them to keep trying to talk to her.

She didn’t even realise that she wasn’t concentrating on where she was going until she collided with someone else walking across the stage.

“Sorry,” she muttered, and took herself over to one of the igniters.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she attempted to wire it up, but struggled to place the connectors properly. Strange. She hadn’t noticed that her hands were shaking before.

She placed the wires down onto the stage and pressed her palms against her temples, fingers pushed into her hair. She took a deep breath, and tried again. Still no luck.

Great. The one thing she was good at, and now she couldn’t even do that anymore.

It wasn’t even like she could ask Charlie to help her. He wasn’t really allowed to do the fireworks, and she could hardly see him letting Ava down for her sake. He’d told her that himself. No, she was going to have to go it alone. At least she was used to doing that.

She shook her head and then her hands. Get a grip, she told herself. Just get a grip. She knew what she was doing. She didn’t need Charlie’s help. Right now, she didn’t want it, either. She just wanted him to stay away from her. Him and Ava.

Maybe it was time to give up on the igniters for a bit. She was usually pretty quick, and she could come back to them in a bit and still finish up in time, as long as she managed to stop her hands from shaking.

On the other side of the stage, Merula was sitting at her piano, her expression less sullen than usual. Artemis caught her making eye contact with David. A second later, Merula was actually smiling, and Artemis found herself doing the same. Merula had been through a lot. She deserved someone who made her smile.

With Merula in a good mood, now was as good a time as any to ask for a peculiar favour. Artemis opened her rucksack, pulled out the grey t-shirt Andre had given her and a black marker pen, and walked across to Merula.

Standing up and being closer to the wings, she could see that Lizzie had walked offstage and was talking to Charlie and Ava. He still had his arm around her shoulders, and he was also smiling. Really smiling. Her chest tightened. She should have been nicer to Ava, really. Charlie deserved someone who made him smile, too.

“Merula,” she said, approaching her at the keyboard. “I was wondering if you could do something for me. It’s a fucking weird request, but…”

“What do you want, Hexley?” Merula asked. There wasn’t any trace of malice in her voice. Artemis smirked a little.

“I want you to sign this,” she replied, unfolding the t-shirt to reveal Merula’s own face printed on the front of it.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking.”

“Unfortunately not.”

Artemis handed her the pen, and Merula stared at her in confusion before signing the t-shirt.

“You are fucking batshit, Hexley.”

“Yeah, apparently so. Thanks, anyway.”

Merula nodded curtly and her gaze drifted back over towards David. Artemis turned away, and ended up face-to-face with Charlie.

“Um, what the fuck?” he asked, the start of a grin on his face. “Did you actually just do that?”

“What? I told you I was going to.”

“Yeah, I assumed that was a joke.”

“It wasn’t,” Artemis said, frowning as Charlie’s grin spread. He was laughing at her again.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re getting Merula to sign a t-shirt with her face on?”

“It’s for Matthew.”

“Who?”

“My cousin,” explained Artemis, and Charlie’s eyes widened fractionally. “I replied to his message. We got chatting and it turns out he’s a fan of Equinox. Merula’s his favourite.”

“Alright. So, are you going to post that to him, or-”

“No. He’s invited me to a barbecue with some other family members. He said everyone is bringing something, and I didn’t have to, but I thought I probably should. So I’m bringing him a t-shirt.”

Charlie tilted his head and opened his mouth slightly before closing it and looking at the floor, biting his lip as if to stop himself from laughing.

“Now what?” Artemis asked him, her annoyance turning into anger.

“Nothing.”

“No. You’re laughing at me again.”

“Again? When was I laughing at you before?” Charlie asked, and Artemis avoided eye contact. “I’m not laughing, it’s just… Well, most people bring potato salad.”

“Well, I can’t cook, can I?” Artemis snapped at him.

“Alright, I didn’t-”

“You know, Charlie, not all of us are perfect and get to have perfect happy lives where we’re surrounded by people who love us and think the sun shines out of our arses. Not all of us know what to bring to a fucking barbecue.”

Artemis turned her face upwards and blinked. She heard Charlie clear his throat.

“Hey. Hey. I wasn’t laughing at you,” he said, gently. Artemis lowered her head, looking at her feet rather than him. “I think it’s great that you’re going, and it’s even better that you’re taking the t-shirt. Yeah, it’s…” he paused, as if trying to pick the best word, before settling on: “unorthodox, but it’s really personal, and thoughtful, too. I’m sure he’ll love it. And no one ever eats the potato salad anyway.”

“So why do people bring it?”

“I really don’t know, Artemis,” said Charlie. Artemis looked up at him. He wasn’t laughing at all anymore, his eyebrows were furrowed, and he looked worried. “Are you sure you’re alright? Because you really don’t seem it.”

Artemis shrugged. She wasn’t really alright at all.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong? You can tell me, you know.”

She couldn’t tell him. She didn’t even know herself. She shook her head.

“Alright. Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, you just let me know and I’ll do it, yeah?”

Artemis nodded, and walked away before he could ask her any more questions. There wasn’t really much Charlie could do at this point, because it was too late. He could have come to the meeting with her earlier. He could have told Lizzie to get the passes and meet Ava. He could have told Ava that she would just have to wait by herself for a bit.

But he hadn’t done any of that. And he probably wouldn’t have done even if Artemis had asked him to. Not that any of those things would have been fair things for her to have asked. Ava was his girlfriend, after all. She was just… Well, what was she? Who was she? Just some girl who was good at starting fires and happened to work with him. She was no one, really.

Cursing herself for her own selfishness and stupidity, she skulked back across the stage, as Ethan Parkin started shouting behind her.

By now, Artemis was used to Ethan lording himself around. She had gotten pretty good at zoning him out, but when she heard Merula snap back at him, she started paying attention.

“You don’t fucking get to tell us what to do,” Merula was telling her manager.

Good for her, Artemis thought. It was about time someone told Ethan that. Despite everything, the corners of her mouth twitched slightly. Ethan did not seem as impressed with Merula’s stand as Artemis was.

“You’re very wrong there, lassie,” he shot back at Merula. “You all seem to keep forgetting, but I’m responsible for this whole rigmarole here. You’re the ones who keep fucking things up, but the one who’s truly screwed is me, not you.”

Artemis rolled her eyes. Yeah, poor screwed Ethan Parkin, living in his mansion with all his money. Not giving a shit about the sad old manager and his control issues, Artemis kept on walking. She had her own shit to deal with, after all.

She returned to her igniters and her usual approach to Ethan and his lectures: ignoring him. However, blocking out the sound of Ethan’s voice was becoming increasingly difficult, as the longer he continued ranting and raving, the louder he became.

“You all want to drop this? Fine. Let’s all go just now. Say ‘bye bye, Pyramid Stage’ and go back to the holes you’ve all crawled from,” he was now saying. Artemis felt something inside her twist unpleasantly at his words, but he wasn’t done yet. “I made you, all of you. It’s time you learnt how to show some fucking respect.”

The strange wringing sensation grew more pronounced as Artemis felt a sudden surge of anger course through her. Respect. Fucking respect. As if Ethan knew the meaning of the word.

“That’s enough,” another man’s voice chipped in. It was a moment before Artemis recognised it as Orion’s. “We are grateful for all you have done for us, but you will not speak to Merula or anybody else like that.”

Artemis couldn’t say that she was Orion Amari’s biggest fan, but she had to give it to him: at least he was standing up for Merula. Standing up against Ethan, even if he was being very polite about it. Ethan didn’t deserve niceties, not today.

Niceties weren’t working anyway. Ethan was still going on and on, telling Orion to back off, stay out of his business, demanding a song from him. Really, it would have been funny if it weren’t so infuriating: Ethan claiming to be the adult, when instead he was acting like a child, and a spoiled bratty one at that.

The tight coil inside Artemis’ core squeezed tighter still. Here she was criticising Ethan, but hadn’t been acting like a spoiled brat, too? She had, she knew she had. But it wasn’t like she wanted to be that way. She just felt so resentful and angry, without knowing why. She shook her head, trying to clear it, but she couldn’t. Probably because Ethan’s voice was still cutting into her thoughts.

“You’d better shut up and let me do my job in peace, or I’ll get you off this band for breach of contract,” he continued.

He was such a prick. And Artemis thought that she was being selfish. At least she realised that she was being unreasonable. Why had no one told him to shut his fat mouth? Surely, they all wanted to? Artemis definitely did, but then again, she just wanted some peace and quiet, so that she could figure out why she was feeling so-

“You can always go back to the streets and sing for a few pounds a day if you’ve forgotten how goddamn privileged you are.”

Artemis wasn’t sure whether it was the fact that Ethan’s voice was interrupting her thoughts again, or whether it was what he said that did it, but as soon as he’d said the words, something inside Artemis snapped. Angry, bitter, and fed up of this morning, of today, of everything, she wheeled around to face Ethan.

“Shut the fuck up,” she said, before she could stop herself, although in truth, she didn’t want to stop herself. Someone had to say it, after all.

She knew that every pair of eyes on the stage was now on her, but she didn’t care anymore. Not about anything, not Ethan, not about the others, not about the band and their drama and this fucking tour.

She didn’t give a shit about the festival and the festival organisers and their meeting that Charlie had told her that he’d come to, only to let her down, like everyone always fucking let her down. She didn’t give a shit about Ava’s pretty face, or her perfect hair, or her degree from Oxford University, or the fact that she had come along and ruined everything, and now her friend was laughing at her, and she didn’t know how to make a potato salad.

She didn’t give a flying fuck that everything was going to end soon, that in less than forty-eight hours it would all be over and she would be going back to who knew where to do fuck knew what. Like always. Everything was falling apart, yet again, but she just didn’t care anymore. She’d had enough.

Maybe she should have felt sad or scared or… something. But instead, she just felt apathy and anger, anger that was currently directed towards Ethan Parkin.

And so, knowing exactly what it would do to any possible future she had with Equinox, she looked Ethan in the eye, and said it again:

“Why can’t you just shut the fuck up?”

[bigskydreaming]

What kills me in fics is when you have tags going like "Good brother Jason", which, cool, but in the same story there's " Dick TRIES to be a Good Brother" LOL way to switch the dynamics. I also tend to stay clear of the ones where the centric character seems to have a platonic relationship tag with everyone (including the ones where they're antagonists in canon like Jason & Tim) except Dick. You can feel the hate/dislike/prejudice a MILE away.

Yeeeeeeah. You are definitely not alone. Like pretty much every Dick Grayson stan I’ve ever talked to on the subject stays the hell away from any fic tagged “Dick Grayson tries to be a good brother.”

LOL like....it’s basically what I was talking about in that older post I just reblogged a few minutes ago. That thing where Dick’s actions or choices in a canon story or fic aren’t judged on their own merits but are rather inherently weighed against some hypothetical perfect choice that he DIDNT make and so he’s basically evaluated based on how much he falls short of that mark each time instead of anything he actually did.

Sorry not sorry, but I’m just not interested in stories that TRANSFORM the character most commonly referred to as the emotional glue of the family and the only one who consistently even CARES about them all being a family....into the fumbling incompetent relationship disaster man who at best gets credit for at least putting in an attempt at being there for his family.

Especially not when Bruce and Jason and Tim are praised for doing the bare minimum in canon when it comes to family interactions while everything Dick ACTUALLY did is just completely ignored and overwritten in order to make his Failure to People Good the narrative obstacle to be overcome.

Now, the “Dick Grayson Tries To Be A Good Brother” tag applied to Tim-centric fics in particular tho....hoo boy I am out of there so fast there’s a Kool-Aid Man shaped hole in the wall and not a sign of me as far as the horizon.

Like, currently my Pet Peeve Thermostat is set to Battle for the Cowl-referencing fics that don’t use this tag but very much are in that spirit. You probably know the ones, like their summaries suggest they’re open to considering Dick’s side of the situation but turns out the author at most is throwing him a “well at least you tried not to suck” bone while still reading him the riot act for very much still sucking.

Because what drives me up a flipping WALL here in particular, when I naively click on a link that seems different from the usual and ignore the voice of experience because I’m just desperate enough for Tim and Dick food that doesn’t just go on and on about how Dick ruined their brotherhood and it will never be truly repaired....

What makes the fruit bats in my belfry go absolutely B-A-N-A-N-A-S is not just the super fun realization that Psych! You thought this fic might be different but it’s actually the same!

Nah.

It’s how much people, both writers AND commenters, just absolutely LOVE to reference Tim’s shitbag parents and how emotionally abusive and neglectful they were (all true and valid, btw, let’s be totally clear about that)....but bringing them up here specifically to emphasize just how great Dick’s ‘betrayal’ was and how what he did makes him no better than them.

It’s like. Oh. I see.

So because after twenty years worth of stories about Dick dropping everything the second Tim needs him, whether it’s for help or just advice or even just reassurance or comfort or ANYTHING ....because after two decades worth of content showing Dick absolutely doting on Tim in their EVERY SINGLE interaction and buttressing his self confidence at every opportunity, never passing up a chance to call him his brother and emphasize that they’re family and he loves Tim and is so proud of him...

Because after all that there’s a story whose very premise forced Dick to choose between two kids, both still very much his brothers and their shared father’s sons even if one was new to him and didn’t have the same history the other two had....

Because by the very nature of the story Dick had no choice but to prioritize one over the other due to them both hating each other and Dick already being stretched to his absolute limits trying to live his dead father’s life and take on everything Bruce used to do at the cost of giving up everything Dick had chosen for his own life and wants and priorities, all while dealing with his own grief....

And with it being inevitable that the boy he DIDNT choose to prioritize was going to be hurt....

Because after twenty years of never failing to put Tim first the second Tim needed him, never even putting HIMSELF first OVER Tim....because for the first time Dick felt that someone else he felt obligated to, felt a responsibility towards, actually needed him MORE than Tim....

And for that reason and that reason ONLY, Dick picked that other boy, all while trying his best to tell Tim that he still needed him, still valued him, all the things that Bruce DIDNT tell him when he took Robin not even because he thought someone else needed it at the time but simply to take away, with absolutely nothing Dick said in any way negating or contradicting any of his many, MANY assurances to Tim over the years that they were brothers and always would be and with them still very much legally brothers and with concrete ties to each other that declared them family even WITHOUT the connection of Robin....

Because after and despite ALL OF THAT, Dick picked the brother that he didn’t know and frankly didn’t even LIKE, because he knew no one else was going to pick this kid and he also knew he’d already picked Tim a hundred times before and hoped that at least all that HISTORY of past focus and attention he’d given Tim to help build him up, give him foundations to build further upon, that hopefully at least that history that was still there, still relevant, still something Tim had actively benefited and grown from in ways Dick now hoped to help Damian....like surely this would be of at least SOME significance to Tim, SOME kind of proof of how much Dick loved and valued Tim....

Because one time and one time ONLY, Dick DIDNT put Tim’s needs first, not because he didn’t want to or because he was being selfish or short sighted or simply didn’t care, but rather solely because this one time Tim’s needs were in direct opposition with the needs of another young boy Dick saw as his responsibility and in even greater need and with even less of a foundation than the one Dick had helped Tim build....

This puts Dick on the same level as Tim’s shitbag parents, the ones who are infamous for (and practically synonymous with) emotional abuse and neglect. Dick’s basically interchangeable with them now. Certainly no better than them. Tim’s entire emotional well-being rested on Dick and Dick alone and nothing he’d provided Tim with in the past counts, just this one moment in time right here right now, that’s the entirety of their relationship see, it all comes down to this and nothing else, and because Dick didn’t put Tim first, no matter WHAT his reasons or how much he wanted to, he has officially failed Tim as hard as the neglectful parents who did nothing BUT neglect, ignore and just not give a shit at all, simply because they couldn’t be bothered to.

Yeah.

That’s neat.

[mallowstep]

Ah, one thing I've been wondering about, hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable. In your fics, Feathertail mentions how painful making kittens is and... is it because she's a young, undeveloped kitten herself or just pure biology, and the barbed parts of males always hurt the females? SORRY, sorry, just curious! Since you're the first person I've seen who brings up sex in w*rcats I'm really interested in your thoughts on it.

how much can i restrain myself let's find out. you get as much as i can pound out in the next fifteen minutes or so. maybe a little longer. hopefully not.

so yeah uh cat sex being painful exists pre-nohmttf: it's not really Emphasized in sweet as cherry wine, but it does come up a bit in there. there's so much other fuckery in olwptm i can see someone overlooking that/writing it off (and of course, you-specifically-anon have not necessarily read that), as well as olwptm being more of a soft m.

(for anyone wondering what i'm on: i use hard m as an internal measure of "has explicit sexual content but not an e," which is like...y'know, uh, i mean it's a fuzzy thing, xd. so a soft m is anything that's an m for other reasons, but like...in context it means strongly implied sexual content.)

but my brain's been chewing on this my brain likes puzzles, okay? and this is a puzzle: cats irl consent to sex (kind of no one get on me about anthropomophizing it's late and i'm talking about fanfiction ffs, but the tldr is that while it's rare, a queen can turn down a tom, and then he's very sad about it, no i'm not kidding that's basically what happens), and i definitely want cats in my feral cat fanfiction to be able to consent to sex, without making all of them masochists. the reason nohmttf has been So compelling to me --- i mean, it's compelling for Many reasons, but one major one --- is that i got to chew on this little puzzle and i came up with some interesting thoughts.

but this is preamble. important preamble, but still.

so feather says it hurts, because, well, it does. we know it does. you have all the context you need for that in the ask, xd. (aside: this too has come up before, in a scene where tigerstar calls leopardstar dramatic for having a normal reaction and stonefur tells him to fuck off.)

but, like. okay so yeah it's a mix of things: featherpaw is underdeveloped (there's a reason like...a girl at thirteen, even if she has her period, is not fully mature, and the same applies for real cats, and the same applies for featherpaw) not for her age, but like...to be having sex. stonefur's a fully grown (and fairly large) cat, she's a malnourished still growing apprentice, there are discrepancies there that are just making a bad situation worse.

(that's more relevant to the process of having kittens. i read through a LOT of stuff for this, thank you to whoever wrote the ethical breeding guidelines which gave me a good frame of reference for constructing normal.)

so that's the answer to your question: it always hurts, it hurts her worse.

but the next logical follow up question i have seven minutes to bring up, and then half-answer, is, "okay, so you've said she-cats generally consent to having sex, they aren't all masochists, so like...what gives? is it a 'they only have sex for kits' thing?"

to which the answer is: no! well. not really?

the answer is i have some sense of shame left in this world, preventing me from making a joke i DESPERATELY want to make, and no one is here to goad me into it. it's fine, if you know the joke i want to make (i assume at least SOMEONE does), go ahead and laugh.

okay anyway more to the point: nnng i have 4 minutes fuck.

okay so look the reason people like sex is because sex has babies and it turns out it's biologically advantageous for us to want to have sex and to enjoy having it.

cats have sex because...they're cats man. i'm not answering that idk it's a lot.

my warrior cats have sex because the conclusion i came from is that they're going to have a same moment as people did and go "this has to happen for pleasure." i mean trust me i've been laying the framework for this: family planning has existed as a concept in my universe for AGES. and we know what that means.

so uhh basically it's kind of like "grit your teeth and bear it" but i did give...i don't want to call it an orgasm, because i've deliberately not written it to be like that, but i have decided that the process of post-coital grooming is something like...enjoyable? for the queen? like this does definitely conflict with older work but at the time i didn't care i just needed it to hurt and it's a weird thing were...

i was just going w real reports of grooming like they're in distress, but then it turns out i actually can have MORE realism if i ignore that, because ignoring that allows me to say, "the cats freely fuck frequently," without raising OTHER issues i didn't want to raise.

so like by breaking realism on one detail, i allow for more realism. and yes, btbm is pretty fucking realistic. you all know me. you know i don't write shit without doing my fucking research.

uhh whoops i'm 2 minutes over my deadline so i'll finish off with:

part of why it hurts so much for featherpaw is that her emotions instincts and thoughts are all conflicting. there's a lot of her...i can't spell it but making-mental-pain-physical-pain going on. it's...like okay, again, in a normal context she would go, "this amount of pain, i can make that informed decision." idk if ur like. i'm not sure if i have a Typical response to pain bc uhh i've literally almost broken my arm because i didn't register it as painful when i should have. like it hurt but i didn't register it as dangerous. so me basing things off of how i experience the world might lead to a bit of weirdness for some of you...but also i'm pretty sure the thought process here is pretty common for autistic people and/or kinky people. based on what i've read. haven't actually TALKED about this bc it's yet to come up. if you have opinions please direct them to my main, @fencesandfrogs.

shit i'm so over time look just listen to me: yes it IS painful but in a normal context that would be a totally acceptable cost. cost isn't even like the right word...idk it's like. fuck. i dunno. like okay i do painful things sometimes but they're rewarding and it's like. well being painful is part of it. i'm no masochist i'm just it's like. sometimes things are uncomfortable and pain is just one way they can be uncomfortable.

so. uh. basically the normal thing is like "well this is painful but this is also good and the good outweighs the painful." ig.

oh okay uh there's more here but fuck i'm over time anyway painful sex is a really common response to child sexual abuse. which is another factor. okay i got to go i'm ten minutes over time but i think i hit all the main points thank u for asking!

<3

[ticklystuff]

Kuya and Bunso

summary: modern au where thoma is fluent in tagalog and aether is interested in learning

warnings: this is a tickle fic

word count: ~1.8k

a/n: ok so i found out recently that thoma’s english va is filipino and @danibby and i are both filipino too so we started talking about how thoma would be fluent in tagalog and he’d know a lot about filipino culture and he’d share his knowledge and experience with aether and that’s how the idea for this fic came about. i’m not fluent in tagalog but i can understand it perfectly fine and know a decent amount of words off the top of my head so hopefully this didn’t come out too bad but ya if you’re fluent in tagalog pls feel free to scalp me

“Paa.”

“Paa? Uhhh, paa,” Aether mumbled to himself as he scanned Thoma’s body, looking for the body part that matched what Thoma was saying.

Aether bit his lip in thought as he replayed the word over and over in his head. Learning a new language was a lot more difficult than Aether was expecting and he wasn’t sure how Thoma managed. Granted, Thoma did have to travel abroad for his work in the Philippines and if he wanted to live comfortably in a foreign place, adapting to their language and culture would have been necessary.

Now, though, Thoma was back permanently from his business trip, having only visited home a couple times for one week max during the two years he had to spend there. Every time he flew home for a visit, Thoma would bring back many stories and experiences, as well as souvenirs, or pasalubong, to share amongst his family and friends. Aether loved hearing about the friendly people, the white sands of Boracay, the delicious street food that often gave Thoma food poisoning, and many more and this only helped to spark Aether’s interest in the Philippines. He often found himself spending most of his weekends at Thoma’s place, learning a little bit more about their culture each time. 

Since Aether was so interested in the Philippines, Thoma started giving him Tagalog lessons, hoping it’d be enough to prepare Aether if he so chose to make the trip one day, but learning a new language is never easy, so the two had to think of creative ways to get Thoma’s lessons to stick, which led to Thoma coming up with their current game.

“You have ten seconds to figure out what ‘paa’ is,” Thoma told Aether with a smirk as he watched the other start panicking. “Isa..”

Aether’s mind started racing as Thoma started to count to ten in Tagalog, knowing full well what would happen if he failed to guess correctly. At the last moment, Aether jumped for Thoma’s feet at the end of the bed, giving the socked soles a few tickles, hearing Thoma burst into giggles from behind him. He had made a blind guess and hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite him.

“Okay, okahahahay!” Thoma sat up and pulled his leg away from Aether, wrapping his arms around his stomach as he let his giggles subside. “Okay, you were right. ‘Paa’ means feet.”

Aether cheered to himself and was rewarded with a high five from Thoma, while mentally breathing a sigh of relief, happy he had made the right choice. As part of today’s language lesson, Thoma wanted to teach Aether different body parts in Tagalog. Instead of just telling Aether what certain body parts were called in Tagalog, Thoma decided to add a little twist to today’s lesson, claiming it’d help Aether retain the information after today. As part of the “game”, Thoma would give Aether a body part in Tagalog and Aether would have to guess which one Thoma was referring to by tickling the specific area on Thoma’s body to lock in his answer. If Aether guessed right, then they moved on to the next word, but if he was wrong, then Thoma got to tickle him back by targeting the correct spot that he was referring to. It was an exciting game that kept Aether on edge because of how ridiculously sensitive he was everywhere and he knew Thoma chose tickling on purpose due to how many times they’d gotten themselves into tickle fights. At least this specific method would help properly cement some of the words into Aether’s brain.

“Alright, let’s see,” Thoma said to himself as he let his body plop down onto the bed once more, tucking both of his hands under his head. “Let’s do one a little harder.”

“Bring it on, kuya,” Aether told him as he crossed his arms together, his voice laced with the slight bit of confidence.

Thoma couldn’t help but playfully roll his eyes at the smug expression plastered on Aether’s face. “How about ‘kili kili’ this time?”

Aether definitely knew this one. Within seconds, he was on top of Thoma, having pounced straight for his stomach, giving no time for Thoma to prepare for the wiggling fingers digging into the thin grey t-shirt that protected his tummy. Since he was attacked without warning, Thoma let out a half-shriek half-squeal, followed by a steady stream of giggles.

“Wrohohong! You’re wrohohong!” Thoma tried to tell him through his giggling, attempting to slap Aether’s hands away with his own when the other kept up the tickling.

“No, you’re definitely lying!” Aether protested, his fingers digging in slightly more, insisting that he was right again. He knew he wasn’t wrong.

“Nohohoho! AHAHAHAHAHA!” Thoma’s giggles turned into full-blown laughter once Aether had turned things up a notch. He started kicking his legs and continued to cry out that Aether was incorrect, eventually managing to catch Aether’s wrists with his own hands.

“Wait, was I actually wrong?” Aether awkwardly chuckled as he looked down at Thoma’s red face, watching the other catch his breath from the tickling. 

“Y-Yeah,” Thoma managed to pant out. After recovering, he sat up on the bed and released Aether’s left arm, but still held onto the right, slowly lifting it up into the air over Aether’s head. “Stomach in Tagalog is tiyán. Kili kili means armpit.”

“Oh,” Aether muttered, feeling slightly embarrassed at his confident mistake. It wasn’t long, though, before he felt a single finger wiggle along the inside of his underarm at the edge of his sleeve, eliciting giggles from Aether.

“You were getting pretty cocky a minute ago. What happened?” Thoma couldn’t help but tease as he watched Aether squirm around, but Thoma continued to hold Aether’s wrist over his head. His finger managed to slip under the hem of the short-sleeved shirt, causing Aether to jerk around even more.

“Hehehehahaha! I’m sohohohorry!” Aether burst into hysterical laughter as he felt Thoma begin to add in more fingers scribbling against the pale skin. He tried his best to pull away, but Thoma kept his grip on his arm tight and his other hand simply chased Aether around wherever he wiggled his body.

After about a minute of tickling, Thoma finally released Aether’s arm, but still attempted to keep up the tickling, laughing playfully as he chased Aether around on the bed. Aether did his best to scoot away, but he simply wasn’t quick enough and soon felt both of Thoma’s hands in his armpits. He tried to protect his sensitive spots by clamping his arms to his body, but that only trapped Thoma’s hands in his underarms and Aether soon fell back into hysterics as he felt Thoma’s poke and pinch the tickly areas.

“Thomahahaha! Stohohohop!” Aether cried out once he felt Thoma’s hands move down to his sides, breaking the rule of the game. He squealed when he felt both of his sides being pinched, causing him to squirm back and forth as Thoma laughed along with how silly Aether looked.

“Alright, alright.” Thoma removed his hands and sat back, laughing as Aether pushed himself away and crossed his arms at him.

“You said you’d go easy,” Aether whined with a pout.

“Hehe, sorry, couldn’t resist,” Thoma told him, laughing when Aether stuck his tongue out at him. “But alright, let’s move onto the next. Hmm, how about ‘bunso’?”

Bunso? Aether’s definitely heard this one before, but he was having trouble picturing it. He bit his lip in thought, watching as Thoma laid down on the bed again. He didn’t want to mess up again like last time, but Thoma started counting out loud again and Aether couldn’t help but begin to panic for a second time.

“W-Wait, I need more time,” Aether said, but Thoma didn’t stop counting and it didn’t help that he seemed to be enjoying how nervous Aether was from the smirk on his face. The three spots that they had gone over already were feet, stomach, and armpits, so maybe bunso meant ribs? Only one way to find out.

“Wrohohohong!” Thoma managed to say through his laughter, brushing Aether’s hands away with his own.

“Ugh, I have no idea,” Aether sighed, pulling away as Thoma sat up once more. “What’s bunso?”

“Well, it’s a special word, I guess,” Thoma told him as he brought his hands to Aether’s sides, but didn’t actually start tickling, allowing his hands to rest where they were.

“So it means sides- Ahahahaha!” Aether squirmed around as Thoma began tickling him once more, but Thoma simply pounced on him, straddling Aether to keep him still.

“Actually, bunso means youngest sibling,” Thoma explained over Aether’s laughter.

“Whahahahat?!”

“In Filipino culture, we often refer to people that we’re close with that are slightly older as ‘kuya’ or ‘ate’, which mean older brother or older sister respectively, so I’m your ‘kuya’ in this case,” Thoma continued, digging even more into Aether’s sides, having to speak up as his laughter crescendoed. “Since you’re younger than me, that means you’re ‘bunso’, or the youngest.”

“Cheheheater!” Aether cried out, slapping the mattress with his hands weakly as Thoma continued to tickle him. Bunso wasn’t even a body part, so how was he even supposed to get that? Was he just supposed to tickle himself??

“Sorry to be deceiving,” Thoma snickered to himself, “but since you’re the bunso, that means I get to tickle you wherever.”

With that, Aether felt Thoma’s hands move over to his tummy, wailing as he felt his fingers dancing along the piece of bare skin that was revealed from his shirt riding upwards. His legs kicked and his arms flailed around as Thoma continued tickling one of his death spots, mentally slapping himself for falling for one of Thoma’s cheap tricks. He knew he would pull something like this at some point when Thoma brought up tickling as a potential learning tool.

“Wow, my bunso is so ticklish,” Thoma teased as Aether’s bright laughter filled the room, his fingers getting dangerously close to Aether’s bellybutton. 

“Thohohoma! Plehehehease!”

“Hmm, call me kuya instead.”

“KuhuhuyahAHAHAHA!” Aether shrieked when he felt one of Thoma’s fingers briefly dip into his navel, sending a surge of tickly sensations to his brain.

“Okay, okay, kuya’s sorry,” Thoma laughed as he removed himself from Aether, sitting beside the other boy on the bed as Aether recovered.

“You cheated,” Aether complained through his breathy pants, slapping playfully at Thoma’s arm from where he lay.

“Sorry, it was just too easy,” Thoma giggled to himself. “Tell you what; I’ll let you tickle me for as long as you want.”

Aether sat up excitedly, his eyes filled with vengeance. “Does kuya promise?”

Thoma couldn’t help but chuckle nervously to himself, already feeling a bit of regret. “Heh, yeah, kuya promises.”

[luzial]

I recently commissioned @salesart to do a portrait of Solas (aka “Song”) and Lavellan (aka “Ink”) from my fic, In And Out Of Time Again. I’m so thrilled with how it came out, especially all the little details that reference their codenames. Thank you SO MUCH to Sales for all your work on this piece, and for asking me all the hard-hitting questions like “what’s their height difference.” I had so much fun collaborating with you!

The first chapter of In And Out of Time Again is below the cut, and you can read the completed work on AO3.

Song has had many names. The latest suits him no better nor worse than the others. If he has one complaint, it is that this name lacks specificity. Fen’Harel was a name that was a lie, and a lie that has long since become irrelevant, but he cannot argue that it painted a clear and awful portrait. His other name, the one that came both before and after, he is only too glad to be rid of. He rarely thinks of it now.

Song is in his element in Strands like these, when he can submit to the demands of his teeth and claws and blessedly forget the version of himself that is not like this. It is simple here in the verdant expanse of his home, his first love. When a mountain stands in his way he moves it with a thought. When a beating heart must be silenced, he rips into it and tastes warm blood on his tongue.

His assignment today is a wonderfully simple one: a death. The target is ancient and powerful, though only in comparison to the other things of its world. Beside an agent of Music, it is nothing. He longs for a crush of strength against his own and for the moment when uncertainty asks him whether he can snap his target’s neck before it breaks him in two. The answer, of course, is that he will hear the crack of bone and hold its dying form within his jaws too quickly to satisfy the hunger that burns within him.

Still, he will try to afford it a fair fight.

When he finds the edges of its lair, Song realizes something is wrong. Demons should swarm around him, challenging his right to intrude on their master’s territory even as he cuts them down. There should be whispers here, a choir of disembodied voices singing the Melody’s secrets for those who know how to listen. Yet all that greets him are emptiness and silence.

The raw Fade has begun to reclaim this place, the green waters of its currents rising up to erode the poisoned ground that has been here for three thousand years. Song wanders farther in, his paws sinking deep into the muck, until finally he finds the corpse.

The fear demon that claimed this part of the Fade is gone, reduced to a husk of tangled limbs and fangs that still drip with venom. Song has arrived too late. The death has already been administered, but this means that the timing is all wrong, and for Music, timing is everything.

Whatever killed the demon has done so before it had a chance to strike a bargain with a young mage girl in Kirkwall. Now she will not murder her family and dozens of others; she will not leave alive one angry, orphaned sister. Thanks to this single fault in the rhythm, the entire Strand is lost.

Song is so annoyed by all the absences that at first he does not notice the addition. It is so impossibly out of place that for a moment he simply stares at it. Stuck to the venom on the dead demon’s fangs is a piece of finely-made paper that smells of sugar and flowers, its perfume somehow drowning the stench of the rotting carcass. He reaches out for it with a hand and fingers; it is a thing too delicate to be held by claws. The venom stings but he pays it no mind, for he has seen the single line written on the page in a delicate script: Touch me with fire that I be cleansed.  

It must be a trap. Not the venom, of course. Whoever left this certainly knows it will take much more than that to wound him. It would be best to leave the note here and let it rot along with the rest of this discordant Strand. But this is a challenge and an invitation - words that hint at more words.  

Song ignites the paper between his fingers and it is as if he has turned the first page in a book. He reads, and when he is done he has become the wolf again, mouth twisted to a snarl. When he has committed the words to memory, he shreds what’s left of the sweet-smelling paper between his claws and grinds it into the mud.

When Song is gone, a shade steps into the pawprints he left and searches until it finds every piece of the burned, shredded, filthy paper.

--------

Tell me I have sung to Your approval.

I’ve always been fond of the Canticle of Transfigurations, or at least of the versions that I’ve penned. Hopefully you have more than a passing familiarity with it as well, or the cosmic cleverness of what I’ve just done will be totally wasted on you. (But I suspect your familiarity is more than passing. If you are who I think you are, you’ve probably written versions of it yourself. If so, how do you deal with the bit in 10:1 about the moth and the flame? I feel like I can never get it quite ominous enough, you know?)

I’ve barely just begun and already I’ve distracted myself with all the questions I wish to ask you. But that just speaks to my point (that I’m about to make).

Is there anything in this world more insidious than words? It took me eight of them to grab your attention. Honestly, I could have managed it in fewer if I didn’t want to make a dramatic entrance. But I did.

I’ve been curious about you for a while now. It’s not like there are many things left to be curious about when you have all of time to catch up on anything you might have missed, so I should thank you for that novelty. I think the first time I saw you was during that bad business in the Deep Roads in Strand 398. I was the hurlock, you were the Grey Warden recruit. Our eyes met as I bit into your commander’s neck and tore out his windpipe. (Sorry about the mess, by the way - I really enjoy getting into character.)

You were definitely meant to lose that fight. I know - I’ve gone back and checked a lot of other Strands and that recruit always dies, the darkspawn always swarm, and the Third Blight always begins. But then you single-handedly cut down the horde after everyone else in your party had died. (I know because I stuck around after you chopped off my head with that broadsword - I just had to see what would happen!) You killed enough of them to prevent the swarm, even though you died for it in the end. (And of course you died for it - you’re good but no one’s that good.)

My point is: do you remember how it felt when that shriek bit into your arm and the Blight burned into your veins? Do you remember the way it spiraled into you, burrowing in your lungs and your heart and your gut until it felt like your body had always been its home? (I’ve been Blighted a lot so I’ve got some pretty good descriptors for it.)

Anyway, let me spell it out in case my metaphors are getting too convoluted: In this letter, I’m the shriek and my words are the Blight. I’ve bitten you and poured my words into you. Your memory will pump them through your mind just as surely as your heart pumped the Blight to the tips of your fingers and toes. Want a cure? Too bad, there isn’t one.

I’m not only writing to gloat. I meant what I said above - I appreciate the novelty you’ve brought to the battlefield. Things are dreadfully dull most of the time. Mainly the Story sends me off to retcon the occasional plot holes your Music introduces to the narrative. There’s very little chance for improvisation, so I have to find amusement where I can.

And this has been very amusing.

Sincerely, Ink

(Keep reading on AO3)

[rohondra]

Firsts || Izuku Midoriya

a/n: this is for another bnharem discord collab!! the prompt was “Pen Pals”. I’m pretty content with how this came out and I’m super excited to write a bit more considering I got a computer!! I’m hoping to do a pt2 hehe. god bless the people in my haikyuu server who swooped in and saved the day every time I had a brain far. 

rating: n*fw 18+

word count: just over 2k

warnings: virgin!Reader, daddy kink yes again ok I have a problem, FaceTime sex, mutual masturbation, big buff Izuku

all characters are aged up when I write and I take no credit for the images I post w said writings unless stated otherwise.

PLEASE CHECK OUT EVERYONES AMAZING FICS FOR THIS COLLAB!!!

A notification from the S.H.I.E.L.D. Field Office Discord server you were a part of popped up on your phone. It was an announcement that they would be randomly selecting pen pals as an event to get people more connected during this pandemic, of course you had the option to opt out, but the idea of doing something so “risky” excited you. You held your breath and reacted with a thumbs up, butterflies instantly flooding your stomach.

Just under an hour later one of the admins sent you a pm;

-Hey! Thanks so much for joining our penpals event. Social distancing is a pain in the ass, but hopefully this will lighten your spirits! We paired you with @/izuku#2485. Xx

Being the nosy son of a bitch you were, you immediately typed his user into the server and checked his activity within it- specifically the “#pictures” channel, but found nothing. Just as you were about to send him a friend request, you got a notification of another pm.. Oddly enough from him;

-Hi, we got paired for the penpal event! It’s okay if you don’t want to send your address to a complete stranger, I get it haha.

The butterflies returned as you pressed the request button, and immediately saw it change from “pending” to “send message”.

~Hi! If I’m honest it’s just my college address lol, nothing too risky.

-College huh? Me too. I was afraid you were going to end up being a minor and then I’d feel kind of weird ha. What school?

~Do not fear, I am in fact legal. Even if it is by 8 months lol. ASU! Yourself?

-Arizona huh? Interesting, I’m actually finishing my senior year at Iowa State.

Your stomach flipped, anxiety coursing through your veins at the last message. Senior?! What if this guy was like, 40?? No, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be living on campus at that age.. But he never specified he was living in a dorm. You closed Discord and moved onto what seemed to be the never ending flood of assignments, two of which were due that night.

A notification popped up on your computer mid essay;

-Don’t wanna be pushy. Here’s my address if you decide to write me.(:

You chewed at your bottom lip, weighing the consequences. It couldn’t be that bad of an idea right? He seemed nice, not pervy at all.. Fuck it.

“Hello! It’s your good old pal from the Marvel server. If I'm honest I'm not that good at these things, haha. This letter will be pretty short, but tell me- who’s your favorite Marvel character? Feel free to gush! I’m looking forward to hearing back from you.

From,

Y/N”

-

Two weeks later your RA slipped the envelope under your door, “MAIL!!!” she yelled before hurrying to the next room to deliver. Your heart fluttered as you opened it, admiring his clean handwriting;

“Hi. Alls good, I’m pretty awkward myself ha. My name is Izuku Midoriya! My friends call me Deku. Y/N is a nice name.

Honestly, it’s kind of cliche but Captain America has to be my favorite. I’m a bit of a Marvel junkie. I’ve seen every movie, have the entire Captain America comic series, own a Marvel Encyclopedia, plus almost every Marvel funko pop they’ve released.. Now that I think of it I’m definitely more than “a bit” obsessed ha. How about you? If it’s easier for you, you could just message me on discord.

-Izuku”

You giggled as you opened the app on your phone.

~Hi! I just got your letter. Seems to me you’re DEFINITELY obsessed lol but that’s okay, me too. I’m obsessed with Captain America. Chris Evans? *cheff kiss*”

-Hey. That’s so funny! I aspire to look like him one day haha. Taking it one day at a time, but this pandemic is making it difficult rip. You wanna add me on snapchat? I probably came off as some creepy perv ha. @/deku_zuku.”

From that point on, you two became OBSESSED with each other. Deku was an extremely gorgeous, freckled man with colored, fluffy green hair. You thought your sleep schedule was already fucked because of the pandemic? Sike, now it really was. You were staying up until 5am snapchatting him, interacting with him on discord, texting him, etc. You just couldn’t get enough of each other.

Your favorite snapchats from him were his post workout selfies. You loved the way his skin glistened, his muscular body littered in scars and freckles. More often than not you screenshot them and definitely got off to them, but you could never tell him that. It was embarassing to think about how most nights you laid in bed pumping a dildo inside of yourself desperately calling his name, imagining it was him fucking your tight virgin pussy.

As you were getting lost in imagining scenarios your phone began ringing, oh fuck he was FaceTimeing you.

You quickly sat up, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and setting your phone against a book for support before answering.

“H-hi! Sorry I wasn’t expecting you to FaceTime me ha.”

Izuku grinned ear to ear, “No I’m sorry! I should’ve asked first, but you look great so I mean.. No complaints from me with how you look.”

Red tinted your cheeks, “A-ah thank you. You’re pretty good looking yourself.”

Izuku’s eyes narrowed, “Did I catch you at uh- a bad time?”

You tilted your head in confusion, “No? I mean I was trying to catch up on some stuff but other than I wasn’t doing anything important.”

“Ha, that looks pretty important. You also look a little flushed.”

When your eyes followed his on your screen your cheeks immediately lit on fire and you shifted to cover the dildo you carelessly left on the parallel night stand.

“So that’s why you’ve been screenshotting my pictures huh? I never would’ve taken Y/n to be such a slut.” he smirked.

He could feel his cock begin weep at the sight, he couldn’t help but palm himself. What if you got off to him? Thinking about how your little moans might sound when they slip out of your mouth made his cock pulse, he wanted to make you moan. He wanted to be the reason you came undone.

You tried to defend yourself, slightly annoyed by the derogatory term he referred to you as, “I- no. It isn’t like th-”

He cut you off, his voice having dropped an octave, “It’s okay baby, tell me what you think about.. I wanna hear what gets you off with those pictures.”

Hands came up to cover your face, you felt like you were going to puke- this was too embarrassing. His screen went to “paused” and you heard shuffling from his end. Within seconds you received a picture of Izuku in the mirror, his large hand barely covering his erect penis and his shirt between his teeth. He chuckled, “How about now princess? What makes that pretty pussy tighten around your toy?”

Slick slipped from your previously abused cunt, he sounded so delicious and looked even more delicious. When you spoke, your voice came out as a squeak, “I-I uh, I can’t tell you! It’s embarrassing.” If you could light on fire, it would’ve already happened. In fact, you wish you could. If you’re lucky the entire dorm might catch ablaze as well so all evidence is ruined.

A deep chuckle echoed from your phone speaker, “Embarrassed? It’s not like you’re a blushing virgin baby.”

There was a pause as you lowered your hands, your nose scrunched from the humility and one eye shut, “.. And if I told you I was?”

Izuku felt his member pulse yet again, precum gliding from his slit. That almost sent him over the edge, there was no way someone as breathtaking as you hadn’t been with anyone. Fuck, he could take your innocence and ruin you for any other man. He could make you his own and have you milking his thick cock every night, screaming his name and begging for more.

A meak sigh pulled him from his fantasies as you spoke up, “Sorry if that makes me less appealing.” He was quick to follow up, “N-no. God no. That,” he sighed,” fuck that’s honestly hot.”

Boldness coursed through him as his hand lazily pumped his shaft, “That just means I can be all your firsts.. Here, give me a minute.”

Your heart sank for a minute when the FaceTime ended, but fluttered once again when another call from him came through. This time though, it was from his laptop. He smirked before rolling back in his computer chair, his cock twitching against his stomach anxious for attention.

Desire burnt within him at the sight of you, eyebrows raised and eyes enlarged with pupils blown while you licked your lips. Izuku couldn’t help as his hand encircled his shaft once again, “What is it you think about baby? Me kissing and licking all over your body? My fingers pumping in and out of you while my tongue plays with your nipple?” He began a generous pace of pumping himself before his next taunt, “Maybe my tongue playing with your clit?”

A soft moan fell from your lips as you nodded, “A-all of that. ‘Zuku c-can I please touch myself?” You gasped as you watched precum flow from his tip at your words. He nodded, “Please do.”

You sat back, lifting your hips just enough to slip your panties off, nervously looking at him. All caution was thrown to the wind when Izuku groaned, “Ah, be a good girl for me baby.”

You made sure your full body was in view before grabbing the toy and lowering it between your thighs, which were now covered in a thin layer of your arousal. Squeezing your eyes shut you opened your legs and gently pushed until the dildo was fully sheathed inside of you.

Opening your eyes you were greeted with the most sinful sight, Izuku Midoriya quickly gliding his hand up and down his cock with his chest heaving, his body sheen with sweat.  You let a high pitched moan, your name resonating slowly from his chest. With every thrust your wrist made, a coil began to form inside your belly, it all seemed so familiar but was far more exhilarating knowing that someone else was watching.

“Just think about when that’ll be my cock splitting you in half. Shit- close your eyes for me, start playing with your clit and imagine it's me.” You nodded in response, unable to form words.

Obeying his command, it felt like electricity struck you when your finger made contact. The coil was now fully formed and threatened to burst with every movement.

“I need to cum, p-please.”

“Yeah? Only if you beg for daddy to let you.” He smirked as he watched your thighs tense for a moment.

“A-ah.. please! Please let me finish. Please d-daddy, need to so bad.”

Izuku felt his orgasm quickly approaching with each shaky word spilling from your beautiful lips, “Yeah baby, you can cum now. Let me see the pretty faces you make.”

SNAP

You were gone, your body lost to the ocean of ecstacy ripping through you as you rode the waves of your release.

He sat forward, studying the way your face contorted and how your cunt sucked the toy in as far as possible. The thought of you milking the absolute hell out of his cock sent him over the edge, head thrown back with spurts of cum covering his beautifully toned chest and stomach.

Eyes twitched trying to focus from the intensity of your orgasm as you came down from euphoria.

As Izuku  began cleaning himself off he spoke up, “So you’ve genuinely never done that kind of stuff before?” You shook your head before sitting up to sling a large t-shirt over your body, “Nope, when I said I was a virgin I mean like V I R G I N.”

He shook his head and chuckled, “Crazy. I have some assignments I need to do, if you want you could keep me company?”

You pulled a pillow under your chin and hugged it.  “I have some work to do too, so I guess that’ll work.” You giggled. He twirled a pen between his fingers before bringing it up to chew on, “And once we call it quits for the evening, how about we check off some more ‘firsts’ for you?”

[viwihere]

189 (Spencer Reid x Female Reader)

*gif is not mine

Summary:

y/n is a new addition to the BAU team, she is also a doctor, so can she and Dr. Reid work together to solve her first case or will the keep butting heads? Reader is 21 in this, it is set in season 3. (Spencer is 26 for reference) 

Warnings: 

Bad editing, a few nono words. Mention of drugs, kidnapping, and murderey stuff. somewhat implied smut. enjoyyyy. this is my first fic, I tried with the case stuff so hopefully it makes sense. teehee it probably sucks.

word count:

5,280 The time it took for the elevator to get from the ground floor to the bullpen was too long, but not long enough. I only gained the privilege of drinking a few weeks ago but here I was walking into the bullpen of the Bau. The weight of my Go bag over my shoulder couldn't match the weight of nerves and excitement in my head right now. Jesus y/n. Get yourself together, I cursed myself in my head. You have three doctorates in your name, you can do this. 

I watched as a man walked down from an elevated platform leading to what seem to be a bunch of offices. 

“Ah you must be Ms. y/l/m, I’m Supervisory Agent Hotchner. If director Struass wants you here so bad you must be special. Not many people warm up to that woman, me included. Please follow me.”

 I’m not sure if I should be happy or frustrated he didn't let me get a word in. Probably happy, he saved me the embarrassment. I followed him up the stairs into what I assumed was a meeting room. And I was right. He pushed open the door to reveal a bunch of people sitting around a round table. 

“This is your new team, ssa Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, derek Morgan, Emily Pretniss, tech analyst Penelope Garcia, and… Dr. Reid.” 

I looked right at the man he pointed to as he said that. Tall nerdy type. He looked very young to be a doctor. Then I remembered I’m a doctor times three and I can't even rent a rental car yet. He was cute, scratch that absolutely adorable, and his hair. Jesus. I was pulled out of my trance when Hotch continued,

“Team this is new special supervisory agent y/n y/l/n.” 

That's when I realized I could make my impression and the world fell out. 

“Actually it’s Doctor.” 

Everyone in the room stared for a few seconds. Emily was the first to speak,

“what are you 16? I mean I shouldn't be surprised cause Spence is only 26 but I didn't realize young people are getting smarter.” 

This reaction wasn’t new to me. 

“I’m 21” 

I replied with a smile as I sat down next to Garcia. I quickly turned to see Morgan pat Dr. Reid on the shoulder and proceeds to say, 

“Well pretty boy, looks like she beat your record by a year. You were 22 when you joined.” 

Dr. Reid quickly brushed off his hand and shifted in his seat. 

JJ was the next to speak,

 “Where did you study?” 

I quickly thought back to two years ago as I received my third (and final) PHD from MIT. I missed school, things were easier there. 

“MIT, that’s where I got my doctorates.”  I replied. 

“Wait, Doctorates? As in plural?” David Rossi asked even more dumbstruck. 

“Yeah…” I replied hesitantly “Mathematics, psychology, and humanities. I was only going to study psychology but after I received it I realized no one was hiring 15 year olds so I stayed in school till 17. After that I participated in a few field studies with professors and my mom made me take a break and do some normal things, like friends and stuff.”

 I don't know if it was possible but everyone was even more shocked. Everyone but Dr. Reid, he seemed more… shameful. Derek spoke first, turning to Dr. Reid 

“dude she broke your doctorate record by two years AND has friends.” 

That certainly didn't help with the shame he was displaying. But seconds later he resituated himself and seemed more closed off, even angry. I tried not to think much of it. 

“Alright folks, you spent all our briefing time interrogating Dr. y/l/n here, Garcia you’ll have to prep us on the jet.” 

He turned to me this time. “You have a go bag with you?” 

I nodded my head in reply as everyone stood up. “Good, wheels up in 30.” 

Everyone shuffled out of the room. Across the table Derek was rubbing Dr. Reids back again saying, “don't worry kid, you still have your IQ of 187.”

 I smirked and even giggled a little at the statement, but when they both looked up at me questioningly I quickly squeaked out a “sorry nothing.” Now, about this jet…

_______________________________________________________________________

Spencer’s POV:

When y/n first entered the conference room I took her in. She was very pretty with a “doe in the headlights” type of innocents. She looked extremely young, I was happy to have someone more my age around. I assumed she had just excelled at her training at Quantico, but when she announced she was a doctor my heart sank a little. She was beautiful and smarter than most people in the room already, how would she like me at all? At least I have my two other PHDs I told myself, but then she delivered the second blow. She did too. And sooner than me. 

I could already tell the team was going to go to her as their “resident genius.” Most of them found me annoying already. And she said it herself, she has friends. Which means she has some sort of social skill… Even Morgan expressed his belief I had been beaten out.  I have to prove to the team that I’m just as smart as her though I may lack most of her other attributes. Especially after she smirked when Morgan mentioned my IQ of 187.

Like Hotch said, we were wheels up in 30. Garcia was on the monitor briefing us. 

“You guys are on your way to Ann Arbor. There have been three deaths of males, ages 20-26.” 

Rossi interrupted “why haven't we been called sooner?” 

“I was getting to that…” garcia retorted 

“All of the causes of death were overdoses. The local police didn't think much after the first one of it till two more showed up. All the bodies dumped in public places. Each male did very well education wise. One was valedictorian, the other two honors at university of Michigan”

 y/n jumped in this time. “What did they all overdose on?” 

I could immediately see the change in demeanor on Garcias face. She paused for a second before she proceeded to answer 

“they all overdosed on...Dilaudid.” 

Shit. 

_______________________________________________________________________

y/n's POV

As soon as Garcia spoke those words the whole mood on the place shifted. I could immediately tell Dr. Reid was the most uncomfortable. I tried to break the silence but I could tell right after I said it it just made things worse. 

“Hydromorphone? That’s an oddly specific drug. This could be personal.” Everyone remained quiet. 

“Is something wrong?” I asked directed at everyone.  

“No.” Dr. Reid replied immediately so I took the hint to let it go. 

JJ and Emily made knowing eyes with me right after. Hotch broke the awkwardness soon after and begane giving assignments. 

“Ok, so the sheriff informed me they still have the most recent crime scene barred off, so y/n and Spencer I need you to check that out. JJ I need you to get ahead of the press, this is a school so it's going to be a mess, the rest of us will go down to the precinct and meet the local police.” 

The rest of the plane ride was calm with nothing but a whisper or two from everyone. 

We landed and headed to the latest dump site. It was a public library. The ride to the library was even more awkward then that moment on the plane, Dr. Reid was acting very guarded. 

Many people have asked me what goes on inside my head, what makes me a genius? I hate that word. The only way I can describe it is that like most people our brain is aware of everything going on around us, but does not register it. My brain does. I can assume it's the same for Dr. Reid. 

“So…” I began, “You know a lot about me already… how about you?”

He obviously dreaded the fact I opened my mouth. He didn't take his eyes away from the windshield as he responded. 

“My name is Dr. Spencer Reid, I graduated from Caltech with three doctorates in Engineering, chemistry, and mathematics, I can read 20,000 words a minute, I have an IQ of 187, I have an eidetic memory, speak four languages and partial of a bunch more, and I work as a profiler for the BAU. ” 

I honestly couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic, or just trying to piss me off. I really wanted him to like me but I guess that wasn't happening. Was he showing off? I tried to lighten the mood, 

“four? I only speak three. English, latin, and greek. But I can sing the alphabet backwards so I guess that makes up for the rest.”

He didn't say anything afterwards. So I sat back and enjoyed the quiet car ride to the library. That’s not true. I silently spiralled about how to get Dr. Reid to like me. But the more and more time I spent with him, the more closed off he became.

Everything about the crime scene was textbook. There wasn't anything obstruct, just the body. Nothing of interest was found at the crime scene except how Dr. Reid was obviously ignoring me, and when he finally did speak it was a passive aggressive remark.  

The coroner confirmed it was a dilaudid overdose. When Reid and I arrived back at the station the rest of the team was just as stumped. All we could profile was that it was probably someone with a hatred for successful scholars. They were probably rejected by The university. 

We had Garcia look at rejects, and people on dilaudid prescriptions. There were no red flags in either categories. We were all sitting around bouncing ideas off each other. Everyone seemed to be glossing over the fact dilaudid was the drug of choice but I knew it was important in some way. Hotch got the team's attention a little while later stating,

“The sheriff informed me we have another body at a public park.” 

And a few minutes later we were all on our way to see it. I was in a car with Emily and JJ this time. I liked them both, they seemed like a good group of people to get blackout drunk with on a saturday night. And trust me, I'll be needing that with all the worrying I've been doing about Dr. Reid hating me. Almost like Emily could read my mind she bagan,

“So, y/n, you’re 21. Have you had the time to get a drink at your first bar yet? JJ and I are going out tonight if this case goes nowhere.” 

JJ jumped in, “just a drink or to, can't get drunk on the job… Emily.” Emily scoffed at her remark. 

“Depends, are you buying?” I gave my answer in my response. 

When we arrived at the park, most of it was barred off, the body was covered in a white tarp. Hotch lifted the tarp to reveal a female body lying there. 

“Wait a second, she's female, that doesn't fit the profile,” Emily stated. 

“We have to wait for the coroner's report to determine if it's the same cause of death.” Hotch replied. “Derek get Garcia on the phone, see if we can identify her.” 

Derek walked away talking to Garcia on the other end of the line. 

I jumped in “the crime scene is the same as the one at the library, nothing” 

Dr. Reid finally spoke an unamused look on his face, “that could mean this isn't related at all, actually She looks like a druggie who just overdosed in the park last night.”

I bent down and examined the body, that's when I noticed a bit of dried vomit in her nose. “She definitely overdosed, there is vomit in her nose. She probably aspirated. But there isn’t any on her lips or on her face. It looks like she was wiped clean. Remorse? Her clothes are dirty but that could just be from the rain last night”

Reid seemed to be making a game out of dismantling everything I was saying with his reply “Or she aspirated and the rain washed the vomit away. And her clothes could just be dirty cause she's an addict. We won't know till we have the coroner's report. I don't think this is related at all.”

Damn he was getting on my nerves. Something nagging in me knew this was connected just like the dilaudid. Derek came back,

“Garcia couldn’t identify her, she doesn't have any ID on her. We have to wait a bit.”

Hotch added “Well then, till the coroner report we can't do anything so I think we should all head to the hotel.”

Emily lit up “woohoo drink timeeeee,” everyone shook their head. I got in a final word before everyone left,

“Something tells me the dilaudid, and this woman are connected to this case in a way we aren't seeing.” 

Reid seemed even more annoyed with me now. Then it hit me, the denial, the walls I knew it all to well. I had been there. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Loud music and people chatting filled the room. JJ, Emily, and I are out at a bar like promised earlier. Two drinks in we all cut ourselves off in case we needed to chase someone down later that night. We were all still tipsy and chatting now. JJ was talking about the annoying parents trying to interfere with the investigation and press. Emily suggested we take them out next. Yeah, she wasn’t tipsy. She was drunk. 

“Is Reid always such an asshole?” I asked bluntly.

“No, I think he just doesn’t know how to act around girls. Especially his age.” JJ snickered. 

I followed up “Did he have a problem with hydromorphone? He gets more and more annoyed with me everytime I bring up dilaudid.” 

The girls immediately looked at eachother sceptical. At that moment I knew. “Nevermind, forget I asked.” 

The rest of the night consisted of giggles and silly stories, but the wheels about the case were still turning in the back of my head. 

_______________________________________________________________________The next day came quickly. We were all back at the precinct, waiting for Hotch and the sheriff to arrive. Emily and JJ were sitting in the corner whispering to themselves, when derek walked over to them, 

“Why are you wearing sunglasses inside girls?” He asked them. I giggled cause I remembered back to last night after they decided to order more than two drinks. Emily could see the smirk on my face and responded with a very sincere “shut-up.” 

Reid sat in the corner of the room observing. I took that silence as a time to speak up,

“Guys, I’ve been thinking a lot, what if the unsub isn't targeting a certain type of person because they don't like scholars, what if they are playing with us?” 

Derek chimed in “what do you mean?”

“Well it depends, do any of the males on the team have a history with dilaudid?”

That was the final straw. In that moment Dr. Reid got up and stormed out of the room slamming the door behind him. I immediately got up and followed him out of the precinct into the ally behind the building. 

“WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?” he yelled at me. He was frantic running his hand through his hair. 

“What's MY problem? I DUNNO YOU ALSO HAVE THREE PHDs WHY DON'T YOU FIGURE IT OUT?” He looked startled but I continued, 

“The MINUTE I joined the team you’ve tried to upstage me or ignore me. You’ve completely closed yourself off to me, you only speak to me when you want to challenge me.” 

He was slowly inching closer to me but I wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention as I continued,

“And stop trying to hide the dilaudid thing! You make it so obvious! You forget I’M ALSO A PROFILER!...” I had many more things to say to him but I was immediately cut off by his lip on mine. They were soft, which confused me, one would think his lips would be dry for someone who doesn’t know how to shut-up. 

We stayed like this forever which was really only 30 seconds. He pulled away and looked at me. I couldn't read his facial expression. Not two seconds Hotch came into the ally. 

“Is everything good, we got the ID and coroner report of the woman from yesterday.” Before I could speak Reid replied, 

“Yes everything’s fine.” He began walking back into the building. 

Regret, that's what the look on his face was. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Linda Ferell, age 20. She graduated from MIT this year.” Garcia gave us the woman's ID. 

“Why was she all the way out here?” Emily questioned, 

Spencer was sitting across the room yet again ignoring me as I made eye contact with him. He was unreadable again.

“She has a mother who lives a mile from here. She fits the profile but why would the unsub start killing women?” 

“Cause of death?” I asked. 

Then my fear, the thing that was weighing on my gut for the past 24 hours. 

“Xanax.” 

At that moment I knew my theory was right. 

“I know what this is about.”

Everyone turned to me, I gulped and began telling the story that you’ve only ever told your parents and your therapist. 

“I had a hunch the unsub was targeting someone personally for the specific use of dilaudid and how all of the male victims matched the description physically and education wise of well… Reid.”

Everyone was confused. I could see it in their faces. The only person keeping up was Dr. Reid. genius’s I guess. I continued….

“So when I thought that Dr. Reid had some past involvement with umm… dilaudid I began to think the unsub was targeting him.”

Some of the team was starting to get it… I think. I looked over at Reid, he was ashamed but he nodded at me to keep going. Almost as if he knew what I was going to say next.

“Two years ago. I was out of school, I had no plans. Like I said my parents pretty much forced me out of school and I was lost. I could pretty much do anything and I became overwhelmed and decided to do nothing... That makes no sense but it does in my head, anyway, I got into well… Xanax. So just now when Garcia confirmed the victim not only excelled academically, but graduated from MIT young and overdosed on Xanax…”

I took a pause and the team was obviously on edge,

“I think this unsub is targeting Dr. Reid and I.”

Everyone was caught up now. And they seemed even more on edge now.

The room filled with “Hows?” and “whys?” Everyone began questioning me and the memories started coming back. Doing drugs made me feel powerful, it was the after where you felt worthless, not only worthless, but wasted potential. I couldn't bear to relive it. I had moved on. I started to feel bad cause these are the feelings I Probably brought up for Dr. Reid.

“I um, I need to take a breather, when I come back I’ll give you the rundown list of everyone who possibly knows about my… past.”

And with that, I quickly walked back out into the ally.

But then, everything went black

_______________________________________________________________________

 I woke up in a room with industrial lighting next to boxes. Wait, am I in a supermarket? Shit, what the hell happened. I can feel my hands tied, not ziptie or duck tape, which are the two things I know how to get out of, dammit. Rope? My feet are tied as well. My mouth Is free though. There's a figure walking towards me. 

“Well well well, guess who's awake. y/n y/l/n. Or should I say Dr. y/n y/l/n. Or even Agent y/n y/l/n! Where’s your little friend Dr. Reid?” The voice was a woman.

“Wha- who are you? How do you know me, how do you know us?” 

“Your little genius counterpart, I was in his class.” she paused and bent down in front of me. I got a good look of her face, she was young. No more than a few years older than me. 

“Ya Know…” she continued “you guys aren’t the only geniuses. There was one time… i was in his class, Dr. Reid was sweating, frantic, constantly itching his hands. He was so obviously high, didn’t take much sleuthing to figure out what he was constantly fidgeting with in his pocket. Good ol’ dilaudid.”

She took a long pause and sat on a crate on the other end of the room. 

“He’s such a hypocrite ya know? He comes into class high like three times, but I come into class high once and he reports me. Given it wasn’t MY class but…”

“You’re mad cause Dr. Reid got you kicked out of school for being high in the wrong class? Why didn't you just report him?” I said groggily. 

“Nah, my revenge was going to be much sweeter. So yeah, anyways got kicked out sent to mandatory rehab, I’m surprised you don’t remember me. I was in one of your field studies. Jesus Dr. Rohden lovedddd youuuu. He totally wanted to get in your pants. I bet Dr. Reid does as well. Heh” 

I thought back to that field study with Dr, Rohden, it was just a simple eco testing site. I was the youngest person on the case. And it was also the last time I got high. The woman continued.

“The first few days on site, YOU were high to! No one noticed though, cause ur miss goody goody.but four weeks later I was fired for showing up high. Well I guess my point or the “source of my pain” is the fact you two still have a future. Well not anymore. Here I am, working at Blue market or some shit after you two ruined my life.”

Blue market. Keep that in mind! She walked over two me and pulled a bag out from behind me. She unzipped it and… shit, pulled out a homemade bomb. 

“Well, I guess my major in chemistry will finally come in handy for once!” she said gleefully. 

“Now, lets see if the two of you are truly the geniuses you say you are… you can send him a hint to come and get you. Also if you couldn't tell already, those other dead people didn't mean anything to me. I just needed to get your attention babe. They were just some smart people who are now dead. Sad. wasted potential, almost, like, soon to be, you.” 

She handed you a phone, you carefully grab it with your tied hands getting ready to tell him where you are. 

“But there’s an exception” she started again. I dreaded her next words.

“You can only use numbers… and you have 30 seconds starting, NOW!”

Shit, what the fuck am I supposed to write?!? Ok I thought back to any conversation we ever had (which was very limited) Finally after almost 15 seconds of contemplating I knew what to write. I had no faith he would know what it means though. He better, He’s the only one who could know. I typed it up and handed it to her. 

“really , you seriously think he’ll figure this out?” she snickered. “Oh well, he doesn’t have a choice.”

13.21.15.18.15.6..5.12.2.

- She sent that, come get her you have two hours.

(figure it out spencer, you’re the only one who can ;))

“And… sent.”

She taped up my mouth, walked out of the room, a remote in hand. She closed the door. I felt relieved. It was short lived. Cause seconds later the timer on the bomb I was tied to started ticking. 2 hours. Come on, Spencer. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Spencer’s POV

Dammit, I felt like a jerk. She knew what I went through, if I hadn't pushed her away she could've related to me. Then I kissed her. Wow Spencer, you can’t get anything right. The room was full of chatting. Morgan and Garcia were digging into y/n’s past. 

I left the room for a second, JJ coming out a few seconds later. She put her hand on my shoulder.

“Hey Spence, are you ok?”

“Yeah,” I gave her a look of sincerity. I fumbled my hand through my pocket and pulled out a coin. 

“My ten month chip. Ten months sober. I’m ok. I’m gonna go check on y/n.” She had gone outside around 15 minutes ago. JJ smiled and went back inside. 

I made my way out to the ally, but y/n wasn’t there. I checked the block, and the car, she wasn’t there. Don’t panic, she’s an adult, she probably just went somewhere. Only 30 seconds later I got a text. 

13.21.15.18.15.6..5.12.2.

-  She sent that, come get her you have two hours.

(figure it out spencer, you’re the only one who can ;))

I ran back into the precinct extremely frantic. I burst into the room. 

“Hey pretty boy, what's wrong?”

I was on the verge of tears. Ignoring her couldn’t be the last thing I did. All I could do was hold up my phone to everyone. 

2:00pm

That's when I received the text. I had to have those numbers figured out by 4:00pm, no 3:30 to be safe to get there in time. Garcia couldn’t track where the text came from. So I had to. 

2:07pm

A cup of coffee, it did nothing. Come on, Spencer, she's a genius. So are you. She gave you a message only you would understand. 

2:16pm

“Are they coordinates?” “A phone number?” “address?” “Social security?” No.

2:45pm 

Everyone was working frantically, I’ve translated the numbers through five computer codes, nothing. Garcia was fiercely translating as well. 

3:02pm

Time was running out. No, no… I was drifting to sleep.

“My name is Dr. Spencer Reid, I graduated from Caltech with three doctorates in Engineering, chemistry, and mathematics, I can read 20,000 words a minute, I have an IQ of 187, I have an eidetic memory, speak four languages and partial of a bunch more, and I work as a profiler for the BAU. ” 

“four? I only speak three. English, latin, and greek. But I can sing the alphabet backwards so I guess that makes up for the rest.”

I jolted awake. That’s it! I looked at the clock

3:26pm 

Why did no one wake me? Oh well, I got it!

“Guys! I think i got it!” I walked over to the dry erase board where the numbers were written down, staring at me for the last hour and a half taunting me. 

13.21.15.18.15.6..5.12.2.

“We were in the car yesterday, she told me something, we were talking about languages, I told her I can speak four languages, her response was four? I only speak three. English, latin, and greek. But I can sing the alphabet backwards so I guess that makes up for the rest.”

Everyone was confused. I started re-arranging the numbers up on the board.

Alphabet backwards, to greek, to latin, to english.

2 12 5  6 15 18 15 21 13

“If each number corresponds to a letter…”

Ble foroum, greek. 

forum blue, latin 

“BLUE MARKET. GARCIA LOCATION OF BLUE MARKET!” I rushed out of the precinct, everyone followed and we jumped into the cars. 

3:30pm

_______________________________________________________________________

y/n’s POV

There were 16 minutes left on the countdown and I had pretty much given up all hope of being found. Oh well, I wonder what happens when you die. Time to find out. That’s when I heard footsteps. I immediately started making noise. With my hands, feet, yells that really came out as moans. Then I almost cried because they were telling my name. Oh my god, Reid actually figured it out. 

The team burst in. JJ cut my free on my hands and feet free. As soon as I got to my feet Spencer pulled me into a huge bear hug. Almost like he forgot he kissed me earlier. But I wasn’t going to let him.

“You figured it out genius,” I ruffled his hair up, and he blushed. 

“You’re the genius.” I left him with a peck on the cheek and walked outside, leaving him blushing even harder. 

I gave my statement and told the team that she didn't care about the people she drugged and killed, it was just to drag us out here. Bomb squad had enough time to disable the bomb. A female body was discovered a few minutes later on a street a block away from University of Michigan. I identified her as the woman who kidnapped me. She had overdosed. Her name was Tracy Stern. After the field study incident her parents kicked her out and she was stuck working at that supermarket. That must’ve been the trigger. She had been stalking us ever since. Spencer said he remembered her incident from a few years ago. She had an Opioid problem, which is what she had overdosed on. Hotch sent us all to the hotel, we’d be wheels up in the morning. For my first case I’d say that went ok. 

I guess opioid was her poison, and like most of us, we eventually succumb to it. 

_______________________________________________________________________

I had just showered and changed, I was getting ready to sleep when I heard a knock at my hotel room door. I opened the door to see none other than Dr. Reid standing there. 

“Rei-” He cut me off,

“I know I acted like an asshole this entire time, I know I kissed you when you were expressing your feelings and I shouldn't have, and I promise I wasn’t trying to shut you up I just don’t know what came over me. And I promise you I’m not very ego protective but when you walked in you were just as smart as me if not smarter, and you have friends which I don’t, and your pretty, like extremely pretty, beautiful, and you have everything and all I have is my brain so I got worried everyone was gonna pass over me even more than they already do, and I’m also sorry for pushing you away about the drug thing and basically i just wanted to come here to tell you I’m ten months sober and I really want a fresh start, and please stop me cause I’m rambling-” 

“I forgive you Spence, and I’m two years sober, and I’d love a fresh start. If it includes this…” 

I stepped forward, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him as though I WAS going to blow up, that we were going to explode together but the only thing exploding in this moment was my heart. And by the way our lips moved together I could definitely tell he felt the same. 

I pulled away for a second, “so you think I’m pretty…” He began blushing. “I’m kidding.” I snickered. We gravitated back towards each other and our lips met again. I pulled away again speaking again,

“You wanna know why I giggled yesterday when Derek said your IQ is 187?” He nodded, obviously eager to go back to kissing. 

I got on my toes, brought my mouth to his ear and whispered,

“Mine’s 189.”

A fire lit in his eyes, he crouched down and picked me up by my thighs making his way into my room.

I knew I was in for it now. 

[jimmymcgools]

Can you do a directors cut for they pay me a golden treasure?

hi! this has been in my ask box for like two weeks! i'm so sorry! my brain broke and i forgot how to think about things!

i'm glad you asked for this one, thank you so much 🙏 i'd had the first ~500 words of this sitting in a google doc for so long -- i was originally thinking of posting after i finished slip and fall season. but then my brain did that thing where i wanted everything to be exactly perfect and i kept working and overworking the first few paragraphs until way too much gluten had formed in the dough and it was chewy and terrible.

but then i took a step back and just tried to write a thing that captured all the little interesting ideas i wanted to include, and that helped me get the ball rolling.

commentary below! 💖

Two points of pressure weigh down his shoulders, as heavy as the bags of cash had been—heavier, even. It feels like he has two hands locked on either side of his neck. He can feel the man who owns the hands standing behind him, and he can hear the echo of the word wife.

this idea was one of the first things that made me want to write this oneshot -- linking this physical sensation of carrying the bags with this metaphorical way he feels lalo's control over him.

He swallows. His mouth is tacky with a sugary layer of Gatorade.

i wanted the whole thing to hopefully be SUPER sensory and way deep in jimmy's head. and this is the kinda shit that takes me longer than it should to remember. sometimes i have to just sit and think through every part of my body as if i'm in that situation and see if anything good leaps out.

He’s just standing there outside the apartment and his arms are so heavy and his shoulders are so heavy and his head is so heavy he feels as if he’s going to fall right through the ground, as if he’s going to plummet into the earth before she can even open the door.

this is one of the sentences that previously died to being overworked. i kept changing it and changing it until eventually i looked back at my very first version, which was more brainstormy note than intended prose, and i thought it was better than anything else i'd managed. so i used that!

There’s a bang and his eyes snap open. The door is widening to a square of light and his hands are in front of his chest, curling into balls.

this part is a reverse of the previous example, though! here i kept an earlier version for a while, something that started like "The door opens with a bang etc etc" and then i realised it DID need more work, it needed to be more in jimmy's head and not tell the reader exactly what was happening in the first three words.

A square of light—sand and sky and space blankets—and then she’s there, silhouetted against the white, and he takes— —one step, then the next, then the next— —through the bright doorway.

fuckin' love an em dash, mate

His legs, having delivered him here, to this final glowing space, give up.

another one of the ideas i was very excited about for this one-shot was comparing kim to the golden glowstick he holds that night in the desert! i always think about it when i watch that scene!

here's my first shot at making the comparison -- this final glowing space. for a while i wanted to include the memory of him holding that glowstick right here, so that people might link it with him holding her in the entryway, but it didn't work with the pace.

Her voice sounds like it’s coming down a long phone line, traveling through thousands and thousands of copper-lined miles. Crackling and cracking.

i'm a self indulgent lil shit so i put some references to my other fic in here. hopefully if youve read acb, this specific description makes you think of baby kim and jimmy talking softly on the phone at night.

Kim’s fingers are razors in his hair, crushing his head close against her shoulder.

another metaphor from early acb used here, which in itself is a reference to a song by the national, of course. all my fics are just a bunch of national songs stacked inside a trenchcoat

As soon as his chest touches hers, he’s clawing with tight fists at her back, holding her faster and faster, like he’s scrabbling for purchase over screaming dirt

i loved the idea of drawing all these parallels between the desert experience and his experience here. it makes me think of the split-screen opening. jimmy's dry tongue sticking to his mouth is like him trying to say the first part of kim's name. the way he hugs her is like the way he scrambles towards the esteem.

it's all entwined forever now.

From down the long crackling line, she says his name again. Jimmy. He almost can’t hear it. Jimmy.

god, i'm such a writing nerd and i love thinking about writing so much and it's like -- what does not having his name in speech marks add here? in my head it adds so much. is it real, is she really saying it? is he just thinking it? yet he says he almost can't hear it. somehow not having the speech marks also makes it feel far away to me. intangible. if she's really saying it, it doesn't feel real anymore.

i love writing!!!!

“Hey,” Kim says, her voice quiet, her eyes locked on his. The dry skin on his lips stretches with his smile. “Hey.”

would die for these two softly exchanging "hey"s.

It’s good to be close because he knows there’s something horrible trapped between their chests. Something he can feel running warmly down his white and unblemished t-shirt.

jimmy brushing his hand over the spot as they sit together on the sofa.

Like he’s something that might burn her, or something that might break. Or both—like he’s fragile and electrified.

i kind of want to do more with this duality at some point. i think they both feel this about the other. that they could burn them or be burned by them.

He wants her to cradle his cheeks the same way she always does, or stroke her thumbs over his mouth, or curl her fingers around his ears, but she doesn’t. She just holds him in her fingertips. Like water in her hands, he thinks.

more of that wild self-indulgency, but god i couldnt resist linking this moment with the first time they makeout in acb:

"Then she pulls back, breathing heavily, looking down at him. She frames his face with her hands. Gasping for breath, staring up at Kim from between her palms, Jimmy feels like she’s the only thing holding him together. Like he’s water in her hands."

the only thing holding him together.

the ", he thinks." i added in the one-shot makes me feel like jimmy's making the link too, not just me as the writer.

The apartment smells of smoke. Another thing he’s dragged with him over the threshold from the desert: one hundred thousand dollars in cash and the word wife and the smell of dust burning beneath a high sun.

of course, it smells of smoke because kim's been smoking inside, but jimmy doesn't know that

Boxers picked up and then put down in almost the same spot on the bathroom floor.

this moment always gets me. these actors are incredible. there's so much goddamn emotion in one little action.

In his hand now, the ache of a yellow glowstick. The edges of his fingers are made red with it, and his skin and bones and all the gaps between the different parts of himself are marked out with the light. He’s awake, and the yellow stick is fragile in his grasp. Glowing through the cold and the dark. Burning a ghost on his retinas. His suit jacket is thin above him, a loose sheet. The desert is loud with lizards and wind and tires wheeling over dirt roads. The glowstick is golden.

and now finally i get to this glowstick moment. i'm really proud of how i executed this paragraph. it's the writing nerd in me again. i love what the present tense does to it. to me, it makes it feel eternal, ongoing. this is how i felt okay about not setting up the glowstick thing earlier. this paragraph makes me feel like jimmy's been thinking about this the entire time.

all the gaps between the different parts of himself are marked out with the light

also the thought of like... jimmy sitting awake in the desert thinking about the jimmy vs saul of it all.

Burning a ghost on his retinas.

"Did I dream it or did I have $1,600,000 on my desk in cash? When I close my eyes, I can still see it. It's burned into my retinas like I was staring into the sun."

Kim’s face is warm against his spine. Her heartbeat seems to pulse through his skin.

more of my stolen acb lines, this from the final chapter:

"He can feel her breathing, her knees pressed up close behind his, her chest against his back. Her heartbeat seems to pulse through his skin. If he didn’t know better, he’d feel like the Sandias, like a line of protection between her and the world."

When he closes his eyes, he’s walking, he’s still walking.

returning to the first sentence here gave it all a terrifying feeling to me. like -- does jimmy feel like this moment of getting home is the dream? this looping dream?

thank you so much to everyone who read this one-shot, by the way! i was super nervous about tackling canon times, and everyone's messages have been so reassuring. i really appreciate it 💖

[oatmealcrisp-freak]

How do you usually write your fic outlines?

I have tried several approaches but I always end up with a haphazard, chaotic reference document comprised of random notes and scene-by-scenes that I don’t finish, and a separate document where I write things scene by scene.

it’s been way too long since I wrote anything, much less long works of fiction

Heeeeey nonny! Hope you and yours are doing okay. First off, relatable AF. I think you’ll find your and my process sound pretty similar tbh but nonetheless! I’ve attempted an answer.

Okay. Uh. Phew. Ahem. Let me just collect my brain enough to answer this in a way that’s hopefully concise and sensical. I’m gonna slap this under a read more because it’s gonna be a lengthy response, I hope you don’t mind! 

At this point I think I’m genuinely incapable of keeping anything succinct. Sorry. Anyways!

I’ve put asterisks next to the ones I think are most important to my process, and help the most in actually finishing the work. 

My steps usually go like this:

A) Hyperfocus the fuck out of a fandom. Find self asking lots of what if’s or wait how’s.

***1) Listen to REALLY good music. 

2) Aided by said music, come up with idea.

***3A) Make a list of the core themes I want to explore in the work. These are crucial for helping me stay on task in the story instead of wandering off.

For example, in Molotow, I wanted to explore the concept of *Saiki as a person who connects to the world/people therein through art, *Saiki being dumb in love, *the emotional needs/complexes of a so called Totally Average Person (being Satou) and what that in love with another boy might look like, * Kuniharu Bad, and *Love Triangles.

In AGWITO I’m basically applying the themes of Mob 100 as I understand the anime (specifically, haven’t read the manga) to Saiki K , and also smoothing out continuity wrinkles with Saiki’s powers. The themes I recognize in Mob 100 basically focus around *Learning/Growing and *how the connections we do or don’t have impact us, with the lesson from the latter being No Connections = Bad (with a focus on healthy relationships and boundary setting). 

A usual theme too is that Kusuke will inevitably be a fkn creep because I hate him because he’s a creep rofl

***3B) Break that idea down into the Big Scenes according to the below graph. This also helps me stay on task in the story.

Then I fill in the in-betweens of the Big Scenes, like how you’d do in animation between key frames.

These drafting points are usually done on paper because I just really enjoy drafting on paper, it feels nice and organic.

4) If there are points I still feel unclear on I’ll write (again on paper) a hyper-condensed rough draft of the story. This quite often differs from the finished product but I find it helps a lot with working out the in-betweens, which are definitely the second hardest for me.

5) Write The Beast

B) Think A Lot. Ask the wifey to please soundboard for me. Think Harder.

6) Edit The Beast

C) ???

7) Profit! <--- Meaning hopefully follow through and actually finish the fic.

Segue on tangentially related process stuff:

The last step is the one I have the most problems with. (Blame that on the ADD baby.) This might sound sad but I’ve been writing since I was 10 - fics and original. I’m 31 now, and I only finished my first story, a fic, four years ago and even then, if you read it (an attempt at a Viktuuri detective noir story), you can tell I’m really petering out by the end of it. 

To that end I’ve done a pretty fair amount of research on other author’s methods too. Attended workshops, read how-to’s, etcetc. The biggest come away I’ve gotten from that has been: 

Try to write every day.

***It’s okay to work on multiple pieces at one time. In fact, this may even help lubricate the writing process so you avoid getting stuck.

***Read, read, read, and study what you read. It’s hard to write books if you’re not reading books. I zoned out on books for a few years and I think my writing really stagnated because of it. Now that I’m reading again it seems to flow better. And don’t just read fanfiction either, but original works. Fanfiction entails a lot of short cuts that original works can’t utilize, and that can prove a hindrance. Kinda like learning to draw anatomy from anime - don’t. lol

I also listen to a fuckton of critical media breakdowns. 

Cosmonaut Variety Hour, Lindsey Ellis, Savage Books, FilmJoy, Folding Ideas, and Wisecrack are faves off the top of my head. 

I think this is important to my process because they help me understand how stories are written, how a successful story works, how a story fails, how themes get worked in, etc, according to the critic.

Also they’re all funny as fuck. If you want something less technical but EVEN MORE HILARIOUS, please check out Kennie JD. She is amazing. She’s more play by play and delightful quips and Hyper Relevant Hot Takes than technical analysis but holy shit is she just The Best.

^ Notables from my faves ^

THAT ALL SAID - All the planning in the world won’t mean you’ll finish what you’re working on, bummer though it is. That can be a fight. And as far as that goes, all I can say is crank your tunes, do your research, crank your tunes louder and write, write, write - then write some more.

Also getting an ADHD diagnosis and medication helped but that’s, like, more of a me thing.

Okay. Hm. I think that’s it....? I spent too long writing this. HOPE YOU’RE HAVING A GOOD’ER, THANK YOU and stuff