#tana writes

[mstigergun]

I think it's a very normal thing to do to write an 87000 word "novella" (ie, novel) about a wedding in Ostwick, in which finding a florist and also art fraud are major plot points. Personally, I like to take a years-long hiatus and then drop a full novel about a couple of dummies and their feelings and also schemes.

[keypostos]

caleb is the biggest advocate of happy wife = happy life.

in the morning, he waits for you to wake up so he can attack your face with kisses. he starts by smoothing out your hair, poking at your cheeks, and running his fingers across your lips.

your giggles are worth missing that extra hour of sleep anyway.

he plants kisses on your cheeks, forehead, nose, and finalizes with a brief kiss on your lips, leaving you to rush in for one more. and who is he to deny his wife?

okay—technically—his girlfriend. but still.

after your slow morning, caleb decides to take you out for lunch. he holds you close when you walk; his arm is wrapped around your shoulder the entire time. when he feels you lean into him for more (of his body warmth, but he doesn’t have to know that), caleb explodes. he probably runs hotter after that too.

he leads you through grocery stores (“do you think we need this for the fridge?”), flower shops (“caleb, i think this would look great on our dresser”), and the tire shop (“pipsqueak, you really need to get these tires fixed. good thing you can always rely on me, though!”).

you browse for things to make his apartment more homey. he looks for items to stock your (our—as caleb likes to say) fridge with. you joke and bicker and hide your heads when you get stares from older ladies for being too loud. you’ll laugh about this when you get home.

later, for dinner, caleb decides he’ll cook for you at home with the groceries he bought today. he made a new special tonight: some kind of pasta with chicken.

and no matter how many times you insisted on helping, caleb used his evol to push you back onto the couch. but, when you snuck over to him and grabbed his waist, he surrendered. any reasonable man would. how could he not surrender when you nuzzled into him, begging him to let you do something.

at dinner, he cut up your chicken and fed you until you started making pregnancy jokes. what a dream that would be, caleb thought.

then, at night (probably 10pm), you two start heading to bed. caleb hops in the shower with you (“could this be my reward for cooking for you today?”) and runs his hand through your hair; shampoos and conditions it; rubs body wash all over you; and rinses you off.

you repeat the same actions to him, except you like to mess with him ten times more. you rub soap everywhere, but you paid special attention to his abs. and biceps.

though, caleb didn’t say a single thing. he had to fight back the urge to smirk when your hands rubbed up and down his arms. this might’ve been heaven for him.

when you got out, you asked (begged) if you could shave for him. caleb had been growing a bit of stubble, and you’ve always expressed your interest in shaving him since he started growing hair.

so he props you up on the bathroom sink, standing in between your legs while you carefully run the razor up and down his jaw. you’re so gentle with him—much gentler than he usually is when shaving himself.

your fingers prod all over his jawline and cheeks. your featherlight touch sends sparks all over his face, and he can’t help but break out into a smile (even when you scold him). scratch what he said before—this is heaven to him.

when you’re done, you analyze his face as if he’s a sculpture. you trace your fingertips down the slope of his jaw; the high rise of his cheekbones, and over his lips for fun. he playfully tries to bite your finger before you swat at him.

the two of you brush your teeth, and you already know caleb will be bumping hips with you throughout the whole process. what should take two minutes turns into ten—with both you and caleb messing with each other by tickling, pinching, or hugging.

once you two are in bed, your face is pressed into caleb’s chest. he rests his chin on top of your head, and you feel his breaths coming down on you. when you look up at him with glowing, love-sick eyes, caleb presses kisses all over the top of your head.

you angle yourself up slightly, and caleb perks up eyebrow in suspicion. even in the dark, caleb can tell you’re smiling when you push yourself up and kiss him on the lips. it’s a deep kiss: one where you’re thanking him, trying to please him, and loving him all at once.

caleb is on you instantly, with one hand holding your face and the other cradling the small of your back. he puts all of the energy he has left into the kiss, before pulling away and slumping his head on the pillow like a love-starved dog.

“thank you. for today,” you murmur, inching yourself closer to him. “i appreciate everything you do for me,” you press one more kiss onto his lips before you fall into the hands of sleep, “i love you, caleb.”

oh yeah, caleb thinks, happy wife, happy life.

i wrote this in 30 mins can u tell

also idk what’s up w my borders im writing this on my phone so they’re a bit janky loll sorry

[thoughtkick]

When you’re too close to people, when you spend too much time with them and love them too dearly, sometimes you can’t see them.

Tana French

[keyotos]

well aware, you are always mine

summary ⎯ bf headcanons w/ hsr men!!

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, sampo, jing yuan

tana's thoughts ⎯ keyotos being active and writing?!!!?!!?!?!

dan heng

⎯ TOTAL acts of service bf. cuts fruit for you, organizes your closet with you, helps you rearrange ur bookshelf. like all of that. he is ur #1 helper in all situations and is probably the most reliable person u know. if ur ever having problems, you always call dan heng bc he always solves them for you

⎯ considerate bf. listens to all ur song recommendations and also your book recommendations. never takes your word with a grain of salt (most of the time)

⎯ not a big fan of shopping trips, but will go with you anyway. he will carry all your bags and help you pick out clothes. AND HE WILL GIVE U ACTUAL FREAKING ADVICE INSTEAD OF BEING LIKE, "it all looks good on you."

⎯ like dan heng will pull up with, "that color washes you out," or, "that does not match your color pallete at all." he's detailed wit it too?? the only reason why he knows all of this is bc he pays attention to you.

you see something you like? let's find it in that color that matches w/ ur fav pants so you can wear it all the time. don't worry, i already found it.

you look dissatisfied? dan heng thinks he knows why: you think it won't look good. oh, he was right? well, he can help you style it in a way for it to look good. you can wear that with the shirt you like so much, with some added jewelry, of course.

⎯ does not spend ANY TIME in his room (but who could rlly blame him). he's always in yours and he's lying down in your bed. he takes the phrase, "make yourself at home," to another level. but i guess he gets a pass bc you literally are his home.

⎯ he's sarcastic asl. since his guard is down with you, there's not really a need to maintain seriousness at all times. his dry and sarcastic humor really comes out when you're around him specifically. dating dan heng would make u a victim of the sassy men apocalypse.

⎯ dan heng is the type of person to stare at you lovingly (like HEART EYES are coming out) while you guys are taking a photo together. and you wouldn't even know until you saw the photo. like picture this: you are over here smiling and being cute or whateva. and then dan heng is there. he's obliviously staring at you: like how the light perfectly bounces off your face and how perfectly your eyes crinkle when you smile.

⎯ when he feels secure around you, he is the definition of lovesick. longing stares from far away (even tho ur dating)? yes. touchy (you make sure to tease him about it)? yes. buries his head in the nape of your neck? duh. like he is the whole package and he can never seem to let you go... like ever. you are constantly stuck in his head and also his body.

gepard

⎯ hilariously bad at taking pictures. like you tell him to get one angle and he gets the exact opposite angle. manages to always catch you off guard in every. single. picture. his excuse for this is, "but you look good in all of them :/"

⎯ when he gets super tired after work, sometimes when he gets home and finishes showering/etc, he just flops onto u. like. literally flops onto you. you're always shocked at first, but you move him into a position where he can comfortably sleep (and hold you) in and then you relax. he always apologizes for it later in the morning and makes sure to shower you in more affection than last night, but you always reassure him that it's fine.

it's only bc u take the time to take equally bad photos of him #payback.

⎯ you have to water his plants for him. we all saw this coming. but on the bright side, that means ur home more often!! and when you greet him on the couch after a long day... like you've never heard a deeper sigh of relief before. doesn't collapse on you like other days (thankfully). you two just spend the night eating dinner on the couch and watching reality tv. sometimes, when you fall asleep on the couch, gepard always brings a blanket from your bedroom and drapes it over you. and then he carries you into bed.

⎯weirdly good at cracking your back for you. like if he wasn't the captain of the silvermane guards, he could very well be a freaking chiropractor. like he knows all the right joints to pop, all the right places to put his hands, and all the right places to press down. and it feels SO GOOD. you've never asked him about it.

⎯ gets you really cute and considerate gifts since he isn't around a lot. sometimes gets lynx to deliver them for him. and they're always paired with your favorite flowers too. all his gifts r things that he remembered you liked/wanted (new shampoo brand, new book pela recommended, new plants).

⎯ still asks if you wanna go out even if you two have been dating long term. like he would text you and be like, "would you like to go out with me for coffee," all formal and wtv, and you would respond like, "gepard we have been dating for five years. you do not need to ask."

he would get all flustered when you would bring it up at the coffee shop. pays for your coffee so you could forget about it (you don't: you tease him endlessly).

⎯ learns other things for you. he's dedicated and loyal to you like how a soldier is dedicated to their general. if you wanted a specific kind of dish, gepard would learn how to create it. if you wanted to learn how to plant certain seeds, gepard would run to the florist (and pela) to ask for many tips. if you spoke a different language, gepard would be running to duolingo.

though there is always his duty, a part of his heart and soul will always belong to you.

blade

⎯ contrary to gepard, takes the BEST FUCKING PHOTOS of you. he should be a professional photographer or something because, all the photos he takes, makes you look like a MODEL. he gets all the angles perfectly right + he always makes sure the lighting looks good. and u look back at all the photos he took and ur jaw is DROPPED

⎯ hates going outside x goes outside 24/7. you're big on exploration and fun while blade wants to lie low. but either way, you two manage to have fun in your own respective ways. blade watches you from a distance (of 1 foot) and only intervenes if he needs to. other than that, you drag him around the entire place. he is not complaining: one stupid and cheeky grin from you, and blade realizes he is an absolute goner.

⎯ a little too supportive. it's a good thing in all aspects except for one: making decisions. this mf is like, "whatever you do, i fully support your decision." BUT THE PROBLEM IS THAT YOU CANNOT MAKE A DECISION. THAT'S WHY UR ASKING HIM.

⎯ this problem comes up very often during shopping trips. where dan heng excels at shopping trips, blade... not so much. blade is the type of bf to say, "everything looks good on you." but not bc he doesn't care enough: he genuinely thinks you look good in everything.

in his mind it's like: how could you think you look bad in that outfit when you are radiating luminosity from every crevice of the room??? does anyone else see that glow coming from you, or was it just him??

⎯ did not have a favorite color until you. he actually didn't have a lot of favorites before he met you. now his favorite color is blue (you like looking at the sky), his favorite scent is peach blossoms (the shampoo you use), and his favorite food is fried rice (it's the only thing you know how to make).

⎯ does ur hair for u. expert in hair care but it's not uncalled for (his only friends⎯not counting you⎯are silverwolf and kafka). you need to braid your hair? blade has already offered before u could even pull up a tutorial. a new cute hairstyle you wanted to try? don't worry, your boyfriend is there to help you part, section, and clip your hair.

⎯ pretends to give off big scary dog energy, in reality he is a small little lapdog. desires your love and affection so often. does not go out without you. grabs things n carries them to u like a cute little dog would. he's very devoted okay?? let him bring u stupid little trinkets and stay by ur side all the time.

⎯ you send him stupid ass memes all the time. one time u sent him one of those stupid 'good night' memes and he threatened to block you (lovingly). but he found that his reactions always make you laugh (and blade wants to keep you happy forever), so he just lets you send them to him atp. most nights, he sends a simple, "good night" text back. but when he wants to tease you, he sends a goodnight meme back.

⎯ those nights, he thinks that he hears your ecstatic giggles from down the hall. you sound so giddy that it makes his heart want to blow up. those are the good nights.

sampo

⎯ bro is mischievous. he leaves little sticky notes for you all around the house and makes it a game for u to find them. they're not even super important too they're just little things like, "i miss you," or, "did u find all the notes???"

⎯ but he knows you get bored easily, so he made those notes so that you could have something to do during the day. his intentions are adorably sweet, but his execution is so. um. A FOR EFFORT!

⎯ most of the stuff he gives you... hate to break it to u but they are usually stolen. if you choose to ignore that, great! most of the things he grabs are usually rare and u have no idea how he gets them. you swear he doesn't leave belobog, but some of the items he gifts you seem a little too... outlandish. but yk, it's the thought that counts!

⎯ manages to distract you from every single task. usually disruptive, but sometimes, very helpful. after an entire day of work, you can always come back home to where sampo is, because he will always find a way to distract you from whatever stress you have on your plate. whether it be cooking you dinner or simply talking you through his day, you always find yourself feeling slightly better around him.

⎯ has a good relationship with your family. yeah this was very unexpected on both ends. your parents love him: they love his humor and his looks and literally are charmed by him. even tho is a CON ARTIST. anyway. sampo loves your parents and messes around with you by calling them as their parental names (mom/dad). you are not amused.

⎯ grabs dinner before he comes back home. always manages to swing by a place you like and he always gets free food (you've gave up trying to question his methods). before, when he brought home food, it was usually a special occasion because he would never be home often. now, it's a common occurrence: he's wanted to be with you more, and now he brings home food every day.

jing yuan

⎯ the xianzhou's nagging king. this is not a good thing. he nags at you for a lot. did you take your allergy meds? did you eat breakfast today or just drink coffee? did you forget to clear out the pencils on your desk? he does it out of endearment. it does not make it less annoying (lies).

⎯ so accustomed to your little routines together that he can do it with his eyes closed. how do you want your tea? easy: he can list it within ten seconds. he can make it with his eyes closed. and he will always make it perfectly too.

⎯ lets you sleep on mimi (you could say you go mimimimi). not even gonna lie, sometimes he wishes he was mimi. you just sleep so peacefully on her, but you refuse to sleep on jing yuan. you make up stupid excuses like, "your bicep is going to be numb by the time we wake up." but that is simply not true (it is).

⎯ favorite times of day are when it's night. okay that didn't make any sense but he really just likes spending the night with you. it's quiet and the world is much less loud, and it feels like being with you redefined the definition of happiness. everything is so much more peaceful, and plus, you were there.

⎯ being a cloud knight general has its negative aspects. so, much like gepard, he would probably also crash into bed with you at night. but this time, he doesn't need you to move him, because he traps you in between his arms every. damn. time. it's like this man cannot fall asleep without you.

⎯ sitting down with him is like a chore. if you two are sitting down, jing yuan likes to grab your legs and move them onto himself, so you two would be closer. this isn't just on the sofa, by the way. armchairs, conference chairs, office chairs. the chairs don't even have to be connected. he'll just find a way to connect you two anyway.

⎯ you are the first person he looks for in a crowded room. in a place full of people, jing yuan's eyes will only scan for you. his height makes it easier to do so btw. but anyway, you are someone of great importance to him. he doesn't want to lose you like how he lost so many. and when he finds you, it's like the sun shines directly on you: it's always a surreal sight when jing yuan sees you, because he always thinks the sun has risen.

⎯ it hasn't. he was always looking at you.

AND GOOD NIGHT. jfc.

[cimicherrychanga]

what do you meaaaan you cant handle watching your best friends ( who happen to be your ex and his hot gf) being cute and sincere and in love bc it makes you sad??? what do you mean you cant see yourself ever being this vulnerable with anyone and therefore youll never experience this kind of joy, especially not with them???

[mamawasatesttube]

can't sleep so im thinking about sb94 again, as one does. sometimes i see fans talk about reworking tana into a completely different and wholly inoffensive character in response to the fact that kesel [somehow, inadvertently?] made the only woc in the main cast a sexual predator to a white boy [because he seemingly didn't think women could prey on boys, i guess? but that's another post entirely] and i have to say... like, as a poc in fandom i understand the urge, but as a stickler for characterization i really don't care for those concepts, personally.

one of tana's core character traits is ambition. even if you cut out the entire romance plot (which, imo, changing this changes a lot about kon's early character arc), one of her most consistent traits is that she is focused on her career. when faced with the moral dilemma of knowing vinnie edge hired the stinger to attack kon for publicity, but also knowing that whistleblowing would cost her her job, she chose to keep silent. while this is an understandable choice in that she was 23 and new at her job and therefore not in a good position to negotiate while being essentially blackmailed about it, the fact that this plot gets dropped after rots makes it read like despite leaving wgbs, she chooses to never come forward about it. add that to the way she consistently uses kon as an easy source of stories she gets first access to, and that she justifies this to herself a lot, and, well, i think that makes for a much more interesting character beat than a more sanitized version of her. i think it's very possible to have a character who is selfish and ambitious and wants to protect herself first and foremost, while also wanting to believe she is a good person, and struggling with her denial and her ability to talk herself into things she thinks she might regret, who does genuinely bad things, without making her into an offensive stereotype, and i find that much more faithful to her existing characterization than rewriting her from the ground up to become someone who does nothing wrong. (i also don't think it's that easy to say tana fits the predatory woc stereotype as all, but that's also another post.)

the issue with her being the singular woc on the cast and also being a predator does exist, though, and my thought process is more like... okay. a woman of color can do anything a white man can do. that includes massively sucking as a person sometimes. i think that, re: tana, there's two things to say on that front:

1) fandom and the internet in general have a tendency to jump on the idea that someone who does something wrong and hurts someone else is a bad person forever and forever marred by it. i do not believe that this view coheres with ideas of restorative justice, which i personally feel strongly about. this includes crimes people find distasteful to think about, such as grooming: i think it is completely possible to have tana be a character who, by convincing herself that kon wants this relationship, and it's good for her career, so really she isn't doing anything wrong, ends up really hurting kon, AND at the same time to have her be a well-rounded individual who is capable of growing up a bit more, realizing she made mistakes and hurt someone she did genuinely care about, and grappling with what that means now. like, her being fridged prevented any story dealing with the ramifications of her and kon's relationship, but to me, the idea of her having to deal with her actions is something far more interesting to think about than if she never did them. whether or not she actually grows as a person and admits fault, or if she doubles down on denial, etc, could all be interesting character choices, and are also very human responses to guilt. a lot of people just have this kneejerk response to dehumanize any character (particularly woc) associated with sexual crimes, grooming, etc, but i think that really is dodging the uncomfortable truth that a) no crime, no matter how heinous, merits the dehumanization of the perpetrator, and also that b) in stories, a character can commit uncomfortable and horrifying acts and still have nuance and depth as a character.

which brings me to point 2): that the solution to offensive stereotypes is not to insist that no one of x demographic can ever do y thing; it's to provide more characters of x demographic, so that the onus of representing an entire group isn't just on one character. tana being an indigenous hawaiian woman who grooms a white boy wouldn't be nearly so offensive if there were other significant indigenous hawaiian women in the narrative, not doing any of that. if hillary got more of a role, for example, or if (and hear me out, because this is my magnum opus of niche-ass superboy 1994 opinions:) silver sword got brought on as a mentor figure to kon and also was a trans woman. frankly, the handling of silver sword's story was egregious and if anything deserves a good, less racist rewrite, imo, it's his whole arc. kon getting an indigenous mentor to actually teach him about hawaii and the issues with colonialism and tourism and their impact on everything could've been really good actually, and silver sword would've been perfect if they didn't write him off like that. ... or, should i say, write her off like that?

listen i just think silver sword could've been an awesome native hawaiian transfem professor and a recurring part of the kon squad in hawaii. do you see the vision

[tanaisokay]

🌸 Things to remember while writing in first person because I've become accustomed to writing in third and need to break the wheel 🌸

• You're allowed to write out of turn, or in ways that seem unconventional to others.

ie. I'm writing through the eyes of a 15 year old spoiled girl from polite society in 1890, who only learned about magic a week ago. Not everything's going to make sense or have purpose specifically in that moment. I'm allowed the leniency, as the reader is following the character specifically and there is no third view.

• Inner monologues are super important. But, to be more specific, monologues of that character psyche. The monologues are meant to be just for that character and their train of thought or stream of consciousness. Not everyone is going to understand that, and that's fine.

• Dialogue is needed for first person POV.

Bestie said the other night, that dialogue in writing should serve a purpose for the plot and everything else shouldn't be included, however, in first person - dialogue is incredibly important to understand that character's outside view rather than their inner view. Losing their outside view and only focusing on their inner view, is what ruins the appeal of having a singular characters eyes we are seeing through and makes writing first person get old fast. How they interact with the world around them is as important as their inner monologues.

• You're allowed to be cringe. Especially when you write as a teenager.

• You're allowed to not know everything as a writer.

In first person, you are only seeing what the main character is seeing. You're only perceiving what the main characters perceiving. Things are allowed to be forgotten; things are allowed to be left unwritten. You're allowed to leave things in mystery as certain things can be revealed later on by the outside characters to the main character.

• You don't need to be poetic or perfect or well-rounded - You just have to exist as that character.

Some characters aren't meant to be perfect or poetic or have these beautiful written lines that weave together like a master author. That's for third person pov. Leave that out of first person pov. You are writing as the main character. If your main character is stupid, you write stupid. If your main character is self-righteous, you become self-righteous. There is no exchange between characters thoughts, just the one.

• Your tone and pace is completely up to the main character.

Tying in the ideals of inner monologues and the main character's perception of reality, your tone and pace is going to be reflective of that character. Their insight or wisdom or intelligence is going to tell you how it's meant to be written. Are they are brat? Are they cruel? Are they depressed? Are they anxious? Are they high? Are they idiotic? Are they irrational? Are they dramatic? ALL OF IT matters and will shape your writing.

• Depending on the character, you can truly get away with inputting your own opinions on the subject matter.

ie. My hate of the magic realm and a certain writer really, really comes through in my writing through Aster because I CAN. I have no shame.

extra; a rant I went on in a discord server that makes a lot of fucking sense to me:

[perfectfeelings]

When you’re too close to people, when you spend too much time with them and love them too dearly, sometimes you can’t see them.

Tana French

[perfectquote]

When you’re too close to people, when you spend too much time with them and love them too dearly, sometimes you can’t see them.

Tana French

[perfeqt]

When you’re too close to people, when you spend too much time with them and love them too dearly, sometimes you can’t see them.

Tana French

[yap-city-population-1]

Oh, the magazine interview was a trap? The interview where Tana told them all about Superboy’s strengths and weaknesses and WHERE HE LIVES and THE PEOPLE HE LOVES WHO COULD BE USED AS LEVERAGE AGAINST HIM????

That was a TRAP, you say??

Twas a RUSE????

WHO COULD HAVE FORESEEN THIS?????

(I could’ve. I have foreseen this.)

(Fuck Tana Moon.)

[keypostos]

fem!reader. a bit suggestive. caleb can't get enough of you tbh.

caleb once told you that there's a side of him that he didn't want you to see. he wanted to be strong for you. truly, he was trying his hardest to hold on.

when he first said that, you thought it would have to do with his urges to possess you and watch over you.

turns out, the truth is that caleb is clingy as hell.

you're twirling around in a new dress that the two of you thrifted earlier. it's flowy, light-colored, and it makes you look like a deity in caleb's eyes. the dress falls right below your knees—perfect for summer.

you walk towards him on the bed, spinning in circles to give him a closer look. all of a sudden, you stop; you feel big, calloused, warm hands on your waist and look down to see caleb gawking up at you.

he pulls you in closer to his body and decides to rest his head in the middle of your boobs. he closes his eyes and his grip on your waist loosens. caleb lets out a long, content sigh.

caleb rubs circles on your waist, then says, "i can't decide if i want you to keep this dress on or off."

"caleb!" you gently swat at his hand, but he just presses his head deeper into your chest.

that was one of his more tame days.

a few nights ago, you were enjoying a night shower alone. when you hear the door creak open, you don't have to look to know it's caleb.

you can hear him dropping his heavy colonel jacket, belt, slacks—everything. because you've missed him, you poke your head out from the shower curtain, and the sight of you visibly relaxes caleb.

"hi, handsome."

for someone so exhausted, caleb has a stupid grin on his face when he replies, "hi, beautiful."

he stumbles in a little bit, and you two end up pressed against the shower wall. caleb's hand is on your waist to make sure you don't slip. he shakes his head like a dog trying to get wet hair out of his eyes. you can't help but smile at him, brushing his hair around to help him out.

caleb's tense exterior dissipates at your hand. in a second, he pulls your bare body against his. you can feel his chest against yours; he's taking deepest breaths while holding you against him. his hand travels throughout your body: from your shoulders to the small of your back to the curve of your ass, he's rubbing his hands all over you.

he sags his body on top of yours for a second before pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

you two rock back and forth in the shower while he mumbles, "'m sorry. missed you," he presses a kiss onto your shoulder, "missed you sooo much. all i could think about was you today. 'm sorry. i'm clingy."

and then there was today, where caleb decided to follow you for a majority of the time.

you would sit on the couch, watching some tv, and caleb would follow. he'd pull your legs up to rest on his lap, massaging at your ankles and feet.

you're doing laundry, and suddenly caleb props up next to you. you raise an eyebrow to see if he's doing anything distracting or suspicious, and he just responds with a playful shrug.

you shake him off, and then you're abruptly disrupted by caleb tickling you. before you can strike back, caleb laughs—that stupid, loud laugh he makes when he's about to do something awful—and picks you up to lay you over his shoulder. he runs around with you thumping on his broad back, demanding him to put you down just like when you were kids.

and then at dinner, caleb decides that eating across from you is too far away, and he has to eat right next to you to be satisfied. he lays his head on your shoulder, reading through some articles on his phone while you read over him. he also feeds you every now and then, offering you some favorite pieces from his plate as he lays on you.

tonight, after spending the whole day with you, he spoons you while going to sleep. his arms are linked protectively around your waist, and every now and then, caleb nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.

you make sure to get your pictures before reaching back and running your hands through his hair. he tilts his head closer to you and sighs in satisfaction.

you laugh at his evident delight; the sound makes caleb scrunch up his nose. you turn your head back slightly to talk to him, "don't you know you'll be sick of me soon if you keep this up?"

caleb's head jerks up from the crook of your neck. his eyebrows draw closely together and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

"don't ever say that again."

until he falls asleep, he litters your body with kisses until you realize that he's never, ever, getting sick of you. ever.

[stardial]

i always forget i’m like genuinely pretty good at writing. it’s like crazy

[keyotos]

“please stay” after a nightmare from aventurine pls!!! i 🫶 how u write him hehe <3

the way that i am

summary ↯

aventurine's nightmare has him spiraling left and right. and also into you.

apart of the niche microtropes event!

word count ⎯ 3.5k

tana's thoughts ⎯ i am so sorry i got to this so late! i started working at a hospital this summer (working, not volunteering—BIG SHIFT YAY) so i've been a bit occupied!

aventurine doesn't even bother to look at the clock when he jolts up. his back is utterly slick with sweat—a feeling he detests. the room feels as though it's spinning slowly, then quickly, and slowly again. the cavity where his heart lies is pounding.

his fingers grip into the hotel sheets as a way to tether himself back to reality. but the attempt proves to be futile. his breaths have gotten even shallower before; aventurine begins to think that he may pass out from hyperventilation.

this is not the first time something like this has happened. aventurine knows what the protocol usually is. he'll be awake for a few more hours, and then eventually fall asleep for an hour before he has to wake up again.

however, this time it's different. swarmed by not only his childhood, but also red splotches covering his hands, rough metal, and thousands of eyes glowering down at him. everything overtook him—multiple topics all at one time, crashing down into his mind.

the hotel room was pitch black and frigid. the thin covers that the "5-stars" establishment provided did not render any heat whatsoever. not that it mattered to aventurine at the moment. his body felt like it was running a fever: how a nightmare could make him sweat, ache, and scalding was beyond him.

his sweat began seeping through his shirt, causing the material to stick to his skin. he needs it off.

aventurine didn't bother to turn on any lights (or use his phone light, even)—he doesn't think he could bare look at himself if he did. when dealing with nightmares, most people usually shake it off, distract themselves, and fall back asleep. but for aventurine, the waves of shame that wash over him are strong. dismay, embarrassment, and regret are some of the few emotions that crash into him left and right.

the mirror is hard to stare at after a nightmare. aventurine recalls one night—when he was a bit younger—where he turned on the bathroom light to wash his face. upon seeing himself in the fluorescent glint; a lethargic, sullen, and heavy reflection looked back at him. sunken eyes and cheeks that sink down to the floor—both paired with a sickeningly pale face.

he retched in the toilet shortly after.

aventurine put on some slippers as he stumbled on the way to the closet. luckily for him, it was right across from the bed, giving him easy access to change. however, the trip to the closet was still full of its' challenges: aventurine ran into the bed-frame multiple times, and almost tripped on his own feet.

yet, he managed to be successful as he hastily unbuttoned his previous shirt to slide on a new one. he would call it luck that he didn't run into the corner of the bed-frame.

aventurine didn't bother to finish buttoning up his shirt. his mind reeled to the next thing his body needed: a cold glass of water.

though the new shirt alleviated some of his discomfort, he was still running hot. sweat still beaded down his head, and he ran a hand through his damp, blond hair to straighten up.

with a bit more shuffling, his hands guided him to the door to leave his room. aventurine considered sleeping on the couch for the rest of the trip—not wanting to be back in that room for the next week—however he was worried you'd begin to question his antics.

you're smart. you catch on instantaneously and you're too quick-witted for your own good. sometimes, your big mouth gets you in trouble, but that's why aventurine is your partner: he's damage control. but your biggest flaw would have to be your nosiness. and aventurine—though he harbors no negative feelings towards you (except the minor annoyance)—is not ready to detail the specifics of why he planned to sleep on the uncomfortable couch for the remainder of the trip.

aventurine opens the door and tries his best to not slam it, just so he doesn't wake you. he rubs his eyes and yawns as he traverses down the corridor. his hands are scattered throughout the walls, and aventurine tries his best to not hit any corners as he walks.

there's a slight murmuring noise as he gets closer to the kitchen, and he pauses. there's a bright light being emitted, but it's not from the overhead light. aventurine slows down his breathing (which—is quite hard in his predicament) to better hear the sound.

aventurine's feet creep closer and closer, until he hears the noise suddenly stop. now would be a good time to go back to your room, he internally voices. but aventurine doesn't move. he's planted on the ground, anxiously anticipating what would come next. he doesn't know if it's due to shock from his nightmare, or because he was too exhausted to move any more.

"hey. what are you doing up?" you turn the corner, shining the light from your phone to see.

aventurine moves his hand up to cover his face from the light, "aeons, that thing is bright." you lower the brightness while aventurine puts his hand down. he continues, "you're going to go blind looking at that thing in the dark like this."

this is how it always goes. pretend nothing ever happened. no nightmares, no terrors, no deep-seated fears. aventurine was just tired, which wasn't exactly a lie.

he just hopes that you won't be able to see through it like everyone else does.

"i'm pretty sure that's a myth," you put your phone in the pocket of your shorts. the dark setting makes things a lot more intimate, aventurine thinks. he gulps—thankful for the darkness concealing it—and tries not to dwell on the topic for much longer.

"pretty sure that it's science," aventurine responds, leaning on the wall.

you mock him, repeating his words in a distorted voice that makes aventurine question what he is still doing here. yet, he doesn't leave. not even when you say, "since when do you know anything about science? aren't you a glorified tax collector? shouldn't you be worried about... tax evasion?"

the blond rolls his eyes, even when you couldn't see it. "it's basic knowledge, first of all. and i worry. how are you supposed to complete our mission if you can't see?" he lets out a yawn afterwards.

"yeah, yeah," you say, voice drawing out, "whatever. i know you just secretly care for me!" you tease, attempting to poke him in the shoulder, yet missing due to the lack of light.

funny, aventurine thinks. real funny.

"you also never answered my question by the way. what are you doing up?" you ask.

internally, aventurine sighs. he should've known that you would've circled back to that. he thought that exhaustion would cloud your judgement too (considering that it was 2:30 in the morning), but alas, it has not.

sometimes, he thinks that nothing could cloud your judgement, even if it was the strongest effort in the world. aventurine has always found it admirable, though he would never admit it.

"no reason. i'm just not feeling tired," he lies, standing straight up. it makes no difference really, because it wasn't like you could see him anyway.

"you lying liar who lies!" you laugh, "you just yawned like... thirty seconds ago."

aventurine brushes you off, "that doesn't mean anything."

"if you yawn that literally means you're tired," you exaggerate, "pretty sure that's science."

"do you really have to mock me at two in the morning?"

"um, is there ever a time to not mock you?"

aventurine groans. this time, not out of exhaustion. "how are you not tired yet?"

"i haven't gone to bed yet," you shrug, "like, at all." in the darkness, aventurine can see you fiddle with the string of your pajama shorts. "i've always been that way—abnormal. but i'm usually not tired in the morning, so i guess i'm fine."

aventurine hums in response. you talk quite often, but it's not usually about yourself. he leans back on the wall again, letting his head rest as you continue to tell him anecdotes about your chaotic sleeping schedule. this is your normal.

it's certainly not his. aventurine made sure to get eight hours (or more) of sleep each night. he had a routine—a perfectly constructed one, in fact—that would ensure he'd be rejuvenated in the morning. and it was good. it helped him forget; the focus on the ritual would subside any memories of his past that would haunt him.

like tonight.

although, it seems as though his nightmares are an abnormality as well, but he doesn't accept it like you do.

"i'm not gonna pry if you don't wanna tell me," he hears footsteps pattering closer to him. he still can't see you, but he knows you're close. his breath slightly hitches, just in case.

you continue, "but, i can invite you to what i was doing. you know, if you can't sleep either."

before aventurine could reject the idea, you open up your phone, the bright light blinding the both of you. you squeak a quick apology and turn the brightness down, just to where the both of you could see each other.

from his point of view, aventurine nearly has you pinned against him. his body is leaning against the wall, while his arm is propped up on it. you're below his arm, leaning against the wall as well; except, your head is underneath his arm.

you don't seem to notice the position the two of you are in, seeing as you are glued to your phone. in other circumstances, aventurine would've made a snarky comment about it, but the ability to speak was stolen away from him. there you are, right in front of him, obliviously scrolling through your social media. you haven't looked up, not even a glance.

part of him thinks that he should be grateful. tonight has been a rough night, and he's sure that he doesn't look particularly pleasant right now. his hair is tousled, blond strands mangled due to the earlier rustling. his eyes must be drooping, since he's not used to waking up during these hours.

but you don't notice whatsoever. you're here, aimlessly scrolling on your phone—searching up whatever (probably some kind of niche reference)—and not even looking up. and that's when the other part of aventurine comes in. why aren't you peering up at him? do you not feel his eyes boring into your body? can you not feel the rigidity of his stare?

aventurine would do anything to see you glance up: to see your breath hitch when noticing the position the two of you are in, or to finally see you be rendered speechless. he wants to see you hide away from his gaze, looking at anything except for him. then, he might able to come up with a remark as good as yours. only then.

he's torn between two halves of himself. you're his greatest relief tonight (shocking, as aventurine would usually refer to you as his greatest nuisance), but also his greatest fear. when he talks to you, aventurine feels like he's feverous: his heart rate increases when thinking of a retort to your wits, and he shivers with chills whenever you make wondrous and logical reasonings. but he's terrified of what would happen if you saw him—truly saw him. would you be able to come up with a witty response, or would you look at him with pity? would you pull back your punches, replacing your ardent jabs for dull responses?

aventurine didn't want to lose that.

"found it!" your excited voice knocks him out of his head. you click on a video of a wooden bowl filled with water and some blocks. or cubes. or spheres?

"um," aventurine peers down, "what is that?"

"wood soup!" you enthuse, scrolling through your social media to find more.

aventurine decides that he is lost. "wood... soup..."

"i don't see why you're so baffled by this," you shake your head, "it's not edible if that's what you're wondering. it's water and wood, ergo the name is: wood soup."

you pull the blond down a rabbit hole of wood soup videos, and aventurine becomes glued to your device with you. the two of you were definitely standing there for more than five minutes. you glance at him a couple times—just out of the corner of your eye—and aventurine has to suppress the urge to swallow every time.

"oh, oh," you pull up another video, "this one is my favorite!"

you've said that about ten times now. you definitely have not been keeping track, but aventurine has. sometimes, his gaze switches from your phone to you. you're distracted enough that you didn't notice him staring. aventurine silently thanked the aeons for "wood soup" being a distraction.

"this one is pretty good," aventurine murmured down to your neck. he occasionally felt his eyes sag, but blinked a few times to get rid of the fatigue. he rubbed his hand against his eyes to wake himself up.

"works like a charm, doesn't it?" you voice is soft when you give aventurine a slight smile. "these videos always put me to sleep."

you look up at him—actually making eye contact—and place your head on the spot on the wall directly under his arm. your arms are crossed over your chest, and you're biting down on your lip in an effort to not smirk or become smug.

aventurine knows this expression. it's your, "i was right from the whole time" expression.

and for a second, aventurine is scared. he should've walked back to his room earlier, instead of getting swooped up in your presence. judging by the expression you're donning at the moment, aventurine can tell you have him figured out. you were right about his lying earlier, and now you were gonna question him. and what was he going to say? what excuse was he going to come up with now?

would he tell the truth and reveal his most vulnerable bits of himself? what would you even think of that? what would you even say to that? aventurine admits, he's always wanted you to be rendered speechless, but not like this.

and what would you two be afterwards? not just coworkers, as aventurine wanted it to be originally. but you two are far away from becoming close friends. you are the person he needs by his side right now; you are one of the most important assets in the game he is playing. he can't lose you now.

and there's one more reason for aventurine's fears. though he will never admit it: he enjoys spending time with you. from a mission standpoint, you are one of his perfect partners. you balance him with your wit and observation, while he balances you with calculation and persuasiveness. but it's not just that. you're funny (annoyingly so) and you distract him. you make it easy to forget everything else when you're standing in front of him. sometimes, his heart races and all he can think about is you, you, you; every beat of his heart is a syllable of your name.

you make him feel normal. aventurine always knew he was abnormal, whether it was due to his eyes or status, he always knew. and then you waltz in, making sure that you are the weirdest person in the room. it makes him feel okay. safe, even.

safe. aventurine's heart is pounding out of his chest, waiting for you to say something. you make him feel safe, he realizes.

he can't lose you now. not like this.

you tilt your head, glancing up at his face. he watches as your eyes move from the furrow of his eyebrows, to his drooping eyelids, to his pursed lips, and to his slightly clenched jaw. you bite the inside of your lip—a sign that you want to say something, aventurine notes—and let a light sigh slip.

"rest up," you nod, placing your hand on his shoulder. your thumb brushes the fabric of his shirt, barely covering his shoulder. you're nearly touching skin. "you look like you need it," you quietly chuckle. if aventurine heard correctly, you muttered a soft, "yeesh," as well.

aventurine let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. you didn't say a thing. and that may be for the better.

you didn't pry, like you normally would. there were no additional questions. no follow-ups, no interrogations. your fingers brushed his shoulder and he had to make sure he wasn't going delirious from lack of sleep.

nothing was ruined. everything is okay. he is safe. it is a mantra he repeats in his head over and over. he had to make sure it was real. aventurine thought about pinching himself, but feeling your hand on his shoulder was enough evidence for him. your hand hasn't moved. neither has he.

aventurine's eyes are wide when he looks at you. you give him another small smile, "goodnight, okay? i don't wanna see you when i'm awake at 3 in the morning," you joke. "i have a feeling you get real cranky if you don't get your 12 hours of sleep."

first of all, it's 8. aventurine fought off the urge to correct you. this moment was too good to be true.

he couldn't go back to sleep after this. not when he'd be thinking about you and your hand all night. not when he knows that he'd be putting his own hand on his shoulder, recreating how you brushed it with your delicate ones. most of all, he felt like he couldn't fall asleep without you there with him. a chilling realization, he notes.

this is definitely one of the most craziest things he was about to do. insane, actually. when you're about to pull your hand off of aventurine's shoulder, he places his hand on top of yours, trapping it there.

"please, stay," he breathes. it's a shaky plead, and you can feel his hand tighten on top of yours.

"um," he looks around the hallway the two of you were in, "in my room."

you blink, "what?"

aventurine begins to chastise himself. this was a dumb idea. you shouldn't do this. run. but he continues, "could you stay with me in my room tonight?"

is this selfish? possibly. aventurine knows that you and him aren't close enough to share a bed. you guys haven't even shared a drink yet. but he needed you tonight. you help him feel safe. secure. okay. normal.

just for one night, could he indulge? he trusts you.

you blink a few more times. your chest has an unsteady rhythm of rise and fall. has he done it? are you speechless?

"uh. um," you pause. aventurine can tell that you're debating between yes and no. he waits, staring back at you. you bite back down on your lip, turning away.

"you know what. sure."

you and aventurine stumble over to his room in the dark. your footsteps are the only audible noise in the hotel room, and it invites an air of close intimacy between the two of you. he falls into bed first, with you awkwardly clambering in after him.

aventurine lies down like a stick at first. you are not much difference. your back is facing him, and you realize that the two of you cannot fall asleep like this.

you sigh and turn around, facing the blond next to you. it's awkward, for sure. anyone would probably be able to tell that neither of you has gotten into bed with another party before. but you've seen your fair share of movies, so you come up with an idea.

"turn around," you mumble. aventurine listens with no retort on his tongue. you gulp.

"let me know if you don't like this, okay?" you inch closer and closer to the man beside you, until your chest touches his back. you feel him tense, and you inch away a little. you bring your arms out in front of you and wrap them around aventurine.

aventurine's body is taut at first. he's stiff as a board, and you let go a bit to get him to relax. his hand slowly comes up and brushes over where your hand is. he grasps onto it—not as tightly as before—but a light touch, as if he was curious if you were still here or not.

"is this okay?" you whisper. your body is so close to his. you feel insane.

"yes," he responds. he isn't sure if he's capable of saying any more words. aventurine is already worrying that you can hear the way his heart his clamoring. he doesn't want to worry about nonsense spewing from his mouth as well.

your chest is pressed directly against is back. his instincts tell him to squirm away, but is body is telling him to stay right where he is.

later, when he feels your chest synchronize with his, he sighs. your head digs into his shoulder, and he's nearly about to fall asleep. his past nightmare has been forgotten. a topic for another time, he thinks.

you speak up again, your voice no louder than a whisper, "did you know that cuddling leads to an easier time falling asleep?"

aventurine lets out a light chuckle, "really? and how did you know that?"

"oh, i don't know. science?"

[surqrised]

When you’re too close to people, when you spend too much time with them and love them too dearly, sometimes you can’t see them.

Tana French

[mamawasatesttube]

still thinking abt sb94 and how the fandom perceives kon and his multiple abusive relationships again this morning (oops actually i typed that and realized its almost 1pm. afternoon. anyways). there is honestly something kinda disconcerting about how often i'll write a fic including kon dealing w the aftermath of abuse and grooming and people in the comments will be like "omg i want to [insert some sort of very violent fantasy about tana and/or knockout depending on who i mentioned in the fic]". like... okay. okay. i understand the monkey brain urge but i also need YOU to understand that it is kind of uncomfortable to see you wishing sensationalist violence upon especially a character who is a woc written by a white man who did not want to acknowledge in any way shape or form that he was writing a groomer and abuser, in the defense of an impressionable innocent white boy. like ... yes, this is a story about child abuse and grooming. this is also a story trying to deconstruct and engage with something written by a white man who was writing his own teenage sex/power fantasies. it's kind of uncomfortable when you don't acknowledge that part!!!

(also, even if you set aside the way jumping to hurting an abuser for being abusive = a very punitive justice-based mindset, it ignores the fact that in-narrative, kon never wanted knockout hurt even when he was able to acknowledge she hurt and manipulated him. he couldn't bring himself to kill her. he just wanted to stop her from hurting other people. in the in-universe sense, i think it's also important to note that he wouldn't actually feel better or safer if something awful happened to knockout. and we all saw how he reacted to tana's death - blaming himself and spiraling. again, kesel never acknowledged her as being abusive or grooming him, so that is a component of his reaction, but it's very possible to read it as the trauma of her death and his self-blame for it just really compounding certain aspects of the grooming and its effects on his psyche.)