#that'll take more than 12 days right??

[trans-yllz]

ZOO RECRUITER LADY SAID THAT AS LONG AS I HAVE MY LICENSE BY DATE OF HIRE I CAN MARK MY APPLICATION AS HAVING ONE LETS FUCKIMG GOOOOO

position open at the zoo to do wildlife interpretations with the public and it doesn't require a degree OvO

[yesimwriting]

okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol

A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭

also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy

ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol

----

Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.

The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.

For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.

Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.

You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.

His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.

You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"

The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.

"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."

The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.

A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.

"Analyzing?"

You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."

"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."

You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.

Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.

"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.

If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.

Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.

He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.

Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.

"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."

Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.

Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.

At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.

But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.

"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."

He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."

You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."

Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.

"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."

You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."

He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.

Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."

You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.

"I have an early class."

You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.

Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.

He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."

The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.

"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."

His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.

You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."

He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."

You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."

Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.

You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.

The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.

It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.

He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.

"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.

Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."

The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.

Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."

He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"

Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.

He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.

Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.

"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.

It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."

You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."

Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.

"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.

The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."

So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.

"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."

The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."

Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"

"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."

He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."

The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."

You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."

"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."

"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.

He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."

"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."

Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."

You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."

He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."

You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.

Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"

"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."

You immediately grin, "Really?"

He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."

You beam. "I'd really like that."

"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."

Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.

"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."

Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."

He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."

Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."

He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.

Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.

This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.

Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.

For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.

"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.

Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."

[thatgoblin]

If I'm There

Summary: You hadn't seen or spoken to him in over a year, but now you have to track down your ex-husband over unpaid parking tickets. It was supposed to be easy, but seeing him with his new partner made it anything but.

Soulmates AU, Simon/Johnny/Reader

Warnings: so much angst, past child death, alcoholism, divorce, heavy stuff, but happy ending.

A/N: I'm not completely pleased with it, I don't feel very strong with Simon and Johnny’s characters in this, but posting anyways. It's part of a series I had written a while ago, but it works as a one shot too. Song is 'If I'm There' by Bad Omens.

“Riley! I got a job for you!” 

I looked up from the paperwork I had been doing, bored out of my mind before stuffing it into the file it had come in. 

“Yes! Farah, love of my life, light of my heart, tell me it’s a good one,” I said, walking over to get a look from her. 

“Seems you’re on the hunt for a blast from your past,” the dark haired woman said, handing me a file. “12 unpaid parking tickets and has not shown up to court.” I opened the file, wanting to throw it away immediately, but seeing the large bounty on it, I kept it. It wasn’t often that amount was put out on people for nonviolent crimes and I wasn’t about to pass up something so easy. “Also a second one. 4 unpaid speeding tickets, 3 failure to signal tickets, and 1 ticket for having a pet off leash. . . An emu.” Farah handed me another file and the bounty was just as much. 

“And a partridge in a pear tree,” I said with a snort. “Merry Christmas to me.”

“It’s April,” Farah said evenly before turning back to the computer. 

“Well, it’ll feel like Christmas when I turn these two idiots in,” I said, taking their addresses to shove into my back pocket in case my first plan didn’t work. “With a nice bonus for you too.”

“Oh happy days,” Farah said dryly. 

“You know, you could be a bit more cheery about life,” I said, folding the legal paperwork I needed before putting it into my jacket pocket. 

“I could, but then we’d be friends and we can’t have that,” Farah said, not looking back.

“Of course, we wouldn’t want that,” I said, grabbing my phone from my desk. “Alright, I’m off. Hold down the fort and don’t set it on fire. Again.”

“I make no promises,” Farah said as I walked out the door. Walking over to my car, I pulled out my phone to dial a number I had deleted from my phone over a year ago. As I sat in the car, a little voice in the back of my head told me to ignore this job. That it was inviting chaos and discourse back into my life after I had struggled to get some sort of peace. I had to see him at some point and it was probably easier to do it this way rather than during an awkward grocery store run in. Tapping the numbers was second nature and I didn’t even hesitate on a single digit. I held the phone to my ear as I coached myself to stay cool.

“Hello?” A man’s voice came over the line. I hadn’t heard it in nearly a year, but it still sounded the same. “Hello?”

“Hey. . . It’s me,” I said, swallowing back every urge that wanted to throw the phone into the street and speed away. “I really need to talk to someone. Are you free right now?” There was a sigh then silence. I thought he’d hung up on me, but a jostling noise told me he was still there.

“Sure, where do you want to meet?” He asked, his tone flat.

“Joe’s Coffee Shop? Half an hour?” I asked. I felt a little bad about tricking him, but then again I had bills to pay and he clearly was already done with me. So I didn’t feel too bad. 

“Okay, see you there,” he said before hanging up. 

There are scars that'll never ever show themselves

You get when you're left alone too long in Hell

The drive to the coffee shop was short thankfully and I was able to get a good parking spot to wrangle my targets into it. Hereford had its ups and downs, but the ups were that it really wasn’t as big as everyone thought. My ex and I had lived there for most of our adult lives before we split. Going our separate ways had meant chaos and disarray at first, but then I got my current job after a few months and it was something I could throw myself into. 

We stayed in this area because while it was on the west coast, it was also a close knit community of sorts. People knew each other, local places were more abundant than chains, it just felt like back home. At Joe’s, I pulled up to park on the street before getting out of my black sedan. 

Joe’s Coffee Shop was a local favorite with an outdoor patio. It was April and a sunny day so there were lots of people there sunbathing while sipping on iced coffees. Going in, I ordered one myself before picking a spot outside. Lazily sipping my drink, I pulled out my phone to check the time. I was never patient and even when I was early and he was on time, it had always got on my nerves. 

“Hey.” 

I looked up to see him standing there with that blank look he always had. Mostly hidden by his black face mask. It was the same one I made him that had the lower half of a skull printed onto it. He always wore a balaclava with a similar print, but walking around with that got him into trouble a lot. So, I made a face mask for him. I had taken the time to learn to sew and make patterns when I was not a crafty person. Seeing him still wearing it, I was thrown off my game.

“Hey Simon,” I said, standing up. Did I hug him? Shake hands? High five? Regret was filling my stomach as he stood there. We’d divorced over a year ago and hadn’t talked to each other since, but now his stupid unpaid parking tickets brought him back into my life.

We were supposed to be soulmates. We had the marks that everyone was born with. Everyone had a soulmate, people even had more than one at a time. It was supposed to mean we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, like some magical fairy tale that adults tell children. 

If you found your soulmate you would feel more deeply, be more in tune with the other, have this special bond that no one else could have with you. Simon and I had had that bond. 

But then we didn’t. 

Things changed and we lost the bond or it broke or something and we couldn’t hack it. So, we divorced. I covered my mark on my hand with a small black bar tattoo, but Simon didn’t. I hated that he still had it. Just three simple arrows in a row on his forearm. We were meant to be together, so say the powers that be, but we proved them wrong. Life wasn’t a fairy tale. 

“Everythin’ okay?” He asked, sitting across from me, shaking me from my thoughts.

“Yeah, just. . . Got lost for a second,” I said, sitting down as well. 

“Are you seein’ that counselor still?” He asked. I nodded, taking a deep breath. I wasn’t there to catch up, I was there to collect a bounty. “Good,” he said.

“The reason I called you to talk in person is that I have a question,” I said, pulling out the legal paperwork. 

“About what?” Simon asked with a frown.

“12 unpaid parking tickets? You have 12 unpaid parking tickets?” I asked as I shook my head at him, holding up the warrant.

“What about them?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the papers. “How do you know about that?” 

“Because you’ve got a warrant out for your arrest,” I said. “And I’m here to take you in.”

“Jesus,” Simon groaned, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “You’re a bounty hunter now?”

“Yup. I was going to turn yours down, but the money was too good to give to someone else,” I said with a snort. Simon pinched his nose as he stayed sitting.

“This is a joke, isn’t it? It’s a really bad joke,” he said, looking at me. “Just tell me it’s a joke.”

“Not a joke,” I said, showing my badge and permit. “You never paid the tickets or showed up to court.” 

“Fuck me,” Simon hissed. 

“Everythin’ okay, Simon?” A Scottish brogue said.

I turned to see another man with a mohawk and the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen walk over with a pair of coffees in hand. Wait a second. 

“Don’t tell me, you’re Johnny MacTavish?” I asked, looking up at him. 

“Uh, I am,” the man said, frowning as he looked at me.

“Oh wow, this has got to be the luckiest break ever!” I said, laughing as I stood up. 

“Simon?” Johnny said, frowning.

“Easiest job I’ve ever had,” I said, pulling out the handcuffs from my belt.

“You’re not actually goin’ to take me in,” Simon said, tilting his head to look up at me. “This is just a heads up, right?”

“Oh no. I’m for real arresting you both right now,” I said. “Unpaid parking tickets, jay walking and traffic tickets, no shows in court, and a fucking emu? This is truly an April Christmas miracle.” 

“I’m still confused, Simon?” Johnny said, looking at the other man. 

“Wait, how do you two know each other?” I asked, realizing they had shown up together.

“Johnny, this my ex-wife,” Simon said as he stood up. “And this is my boyfriend, Johnny.”

I did not expect to feel that pang in my chest hit so hard. Of course he moved on. Why wouldn’t he? He had been the more grounded of us after the dust settled. I had no right to feel jealous or hurt by it. If he hadn’t been in trouble then I would have had no idea anyways. 

“Wait, so she’s the one-” Johnny started.

“Yes, she is the one,” Simon nodded. “Now, when you’re done havin’ a laugh, I have to go. We have plans. Can’t believe after almost a year of not talkin’ and avoidin’ each other this is how you choose to show up again.”

“Oh, uh, it was nice to meet you,” Johnny said, tentatively holding out his hand for me to take after setting his drinks down. Fuck this. I slapped a cuff onto Johnny who cried out in confusion as I easily turned him to get his other hand. 

“I wasn’t kidding,” I grunted as I handled Johnny, directing him to my car.

“Are you fucking’ kiddin’ me right now!?” Simon snapped. 

“Like I said, I have arrest warrants for both of you. You’re lucky I even told you that,” I snapped back at him. Opening the car door, I put Johnny in the back before shutting the door. Simon didn’t seem to think it was going to go far, instead choosing to get on the phone with someone. 

“Yes, hello?” He said before I ripped his phone from him to hang up. “What the hell!?”

“Simon, just let me cuff you so we can get this over with and we can move on with our lives,” I said. 

“What is wrong with you? Normal ex’s don’t arrest each other,” he said, as I was able to get the cuffs on him just as easily.

“Yeah, well, we’re not normal ex’s,” I said with a sigh, putting the cuffs extra tight on his wrists. “Now shut up and get in the car.” Dragging him to the other side, I pushed him in next to Johnny before getting in myself. 

“Are we being kidnapped?” Johnny asked as I pulled out onto the road.

“You’ve both have warrants out for your arrest because you two dumbasses didn’t pay tickets on time or show up to court,” I said. “5 years we were together and you never learned to pay the damn tickets.”

“I was goin’ to pay them,” Simon said with a huff. “I’ve been busy.”

“Uh huh,” I said, rolling my eyes at him. Johnny seemed to just be in a constant state of confusion, but kept quiet at least. The drive to the police station was shorand usually if there was more than one to book I would have other people with me, but given that those two weren’t going to really give me trouble, I didn’t worry too much. With both of them in cuffs and compliant, I was able to get them booked easily enough. 

“Hey, Riley,” the officer at the desk, Roach, called as Simon and Johnny were being taken to be processed. I paused in my get away, ready to run as far and fast as I could.

They tried to keep in the secrets that you wouldn't tell

But they just stripped you for parts you had to sell

“Yeah?” I said, walking back over. I could see Simon staring at me hard from the cubicle he was in with Johnny that was just a couple of meters away. No doubt he heard the officer call me back over, still using his last name.

“Just need you to sign a few things for us,” Roach said. 

“Alright fine, but it better be quick, I got a lunch date with a Blood Mary,” I said with a huff. 

“You never changed your name,” Simon said, looking at me with a frown. 

“Uh… No, no I did not,” I said, keeping my eyes on the papers in front of me. 

“Why didn’t you change your name?” He asked.

“Because it’s a bitch to file paperwork and I’ve already been writing it for nearly 5 years. I made it a habit,” I said, glancing at him.

“No, no, you were filin’ for divorce before you even brought it up to me. You filed everythin’ before sayin’ a word,” Simon pushed. “Why didn’t you change your name?”

“I swear to god, Simon,” I hissed, slamming the pen on the counter. The small police station should have been buzzing about with noise, but as Simon kept demanding, everything and everyone went quiet. 

“Just tell me why you didn’t change your last name,” he pushed. 

“Because I still love you, okay?!” I snapped, whirling to glare at him. “I still love you, but we are not good together and it’s one piece of us that I can have without trouble. So there, there’s your answer, in front of your new boyfriend, too.”

“Love,” Simon said with a sigh. 

“Don’t,” I said, cutting him off. “Anything else for me to sign?” I asked, turning back to glare at Roach. 

“Uh, no that’s it,” Roach said. I hadn’t meant to crumble so easily. I thought I was stronger than that, but seeing him again, with someone else. . . What was I supposed to do? We used to be so good together, but then everything happened and shit hit the fan. I couldn’t be as soft as I once was and I couldn’t let him back in. It wasn’t fair to him. Not after the shit I put him through. 

“Thanks,” I said, turning on my heel. Thankfully no one called after me again, letting me get to my car and drive home in peace. Getting home, I walked in to shut the door behind me. It was barely 2pm but there I was going right for the vodka in my freezer. I’d been sober almost four months, but seeing Simon. . . I couldn’t. It was supposed to be an easy grab and go, he’d get pissed and grouchy while I hauled his ass to jail. 

Then it turned into a sudden confession at the police station in front of everyone and their dog to see and hear. I hoped that was the last I’d seen of him for a while. If ever. 

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

Pulling a glass from my cupboard, I put a handful of ice in it before filling it with the liquor. I brought the glass to my lips, but paused. On the fridge was a magnet with a purple heart on it and the name ‘Dierdre’ in cursive letters. Staring at it, I held onto the drink as that ache brought back by Simon deepened. Like a scab reopening to become infected. The burning smell of the vodka was enough to pull me from scratching that open wound. Slowly, I set the glass down. That job was a mistake and I knew it the whole time. I thought maybe the money would soften any damage done or any hurt feelings, but it hadn’t done a damn thing.

Taking a deep breath as my mind threatened to unravel any second, I reached out to grab the bottle of vodka. Unscrewing the cap, I let it drop to the counter. The feel of the icy bottle in my hand helped pull me up from the warmth of depression that was pulling me into its arms. I tipped the bottle to watch the clear liquid pour into the sink, splashing and running down the drain. When the bottle was empty, I did the same to the drink I had made. 

Standing in silence, I let out a sigh before moving to my living room, leaving the empty bottle on the counter.

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

I pulled off my boots and jacket, texting Farah that I had everything signed and turned in and that I was done for the day. Shutting my phone off, I moved to flop onto the couch after peeling off my tight jeans. My bra went flying behind me, letting me settle in the warm weather with my windows open. The apartment was modest as Simon had kept almost everything in the divorce. I didn’t want it, so I left the house and anything I didn’t readily need with him. It was for the best. I didn’t need much and it made for less stuff when I moved. 

Flipping on the TV, I turned it to good ol’ golf. I could put golf on at any time and it would put me in a dreamless sleep. That was what I needed. No dreams, no thoughts, no worries or wonders. Just the comfortable void that I could exist in without overwhelming feelings of any kind. In minutes I was passed out on the couch. 

Until someone pounded on my front door. 

Groggily, I looked around, confused as the sun had set and I was chilly in my underwear and tank top. Another loud knock came that had me glaring at the offending door. 

“I’m coming!” I yelled, going to the door. Beside it in a small side table, I hid a Glock for when unsolicited callers came to the door. It was registered and everything, but wasn’t kept completely legal considering it wasn’t locked up with the ammo separated. My previous job and being a bounty hunter didn’t exactly make for the safest of conditions and the bad guys wouldn’t wait for me to put in my combination to my safe. “Who is it?” I asked, hand on the gun hidden under the table top. 

“It’s Simon.” Quiet a moment, I scrunched my face in frustration while holding back the urge to tell him to fuck off.

“What do you want?” I asked, not letting him in or taking my hand off the gun. 

“I want to talk to you,” he said. I heard him shifting around, waiting for me to answer. The thought of climbing out my window crossed my mind, but he’d just follow right behind me. Sighing heavily, I took my hand from the gun before I unlocked the door to open it. “Thank. . . You,” he said, his eyes trailing down my body. “Well then.”

“I was napping,” I grumbled, stepping aside. “Besides you’ve seen more of that.” I pushed the door to shut it, but it stopped when Johnny popped in. “Excuse me?” I said, looking between the two. 

“We need to talk about earlier,” Simon said as Johnny walked in. “All three of us.”

“I don’t understand,” I groaned, scrubbing my face. “Why are both of you here?”

“Do you wanna put some pants on? We can turn around,” Johnny offered. I stared at him before looking to Simon. 

“Just go have a seat on the couch, Darlin’,” Simon said with a soft sigh, rubbing Johnny’s arm. My eye twitched at the gesture and nickname, but I stayed quiet. 

“I’ll be right back,” I said, going to the bedroom which was technically part of the living room. It had a partition set up to kind of offer a sense of it being a different room, but I didn’t try that hard. I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and hoodie to pull on before I rejoined the two men. Johnny sat on the couch, watching some show on TV that had come on during my nap while Simon was in the kitchen, holding the empty liquor bottle. 

I didn't want to believe how much you needed help

And I just left you to be all by yourself

“I thought you said you were goin’ to counselin’,” he said softly. 

“I am,” I said, taking the bottle from him to put in the recycling. “It was in the freezer from almost 6 months ago. I poured it out.”

“Are you bein’ honest with me?” Simon asked, looking at me. His dark eyes looked scared, worried, unsure. It was more than he gave me earlier that day at the coffee shop.

“I am,” I said. “Promise.”

“Good,” Simon said with a nod before motioning to the couch.

“So, what was it you two wanted to talk about?” I asked, pulling over a chair from my table as Simon sat next to Johnny. 

“Aren’t you curious how we found ye?” Johnny asked as I turned off the TV. 

“Not really. I know how you found me,” I said. “One of two options. Either you tracked me back through my phone records or you talked to my office manager, Farah. Who honestly should know better than to give my address out, but I assumed you pestered her enough that she caved.”

“Wow, she is good Simon,” Johnny said with a smile. 

“I told you,” Simon said with a chuckle. I felt a hint of heat in my cheeks. Simon told Johnny about me? About how I was good at seeing things others didn’t? “Sorry, I told him you used to be a private investigator and he thinks it’s the greatest thing.”

“I love all those detective movies where the police don’t believe the evidence, but that rogue investigator finds it all out and cracks the case!” Johnny said excitedly. It was almost annoying, but it was also sweet. I hadn’t felt excited, truly excited, like that in a long time and didn’t know if I ever could again.

“It was mostly catching people cheating on each other,” I said, rubbing my face. “Hate to break the dream for ya.”

“That’s not what Simon said,” Johnny said. It was Simon’s turn to get a bit red in the cheeks. 

“Oh really? What did he say?” I asked, crossing my legs as I leaned forward.

“Not why we’re here,” Simon said, covering Johnny’s mouth with his hand. 

“Then why are you here?” I asked, turning my attention to him. 

“We’re here to talk about us,” Simon said, motioning between me and him. 

“What’s there to talk about?” I asked, sitting back up to cross my arms over my chest. “We’re divorced. We gave it a shot and it didn’t work out.”

“No, we gave it a shot and you called it quits. I was willin’ to work it out,” Simon said with a sigh.

“Obviously you don’t want to anymore, you brought your boyfriend over,” I said, motioning to Johnny.

“Johnny, go ahead and show her,” Simon said, looking to the other. 

“Show me what?” I asked. Johnny glanced from me to Simon before he pulled up his shirt and pulled his pants down a bit. On his right hip was his soulmate mark. I swallowed hard, looking at it as tears pricked my eyes. It was the same as me and Simon’s. Three small arrows. “Well, good for you, you found a soulmate after I covered my mark,” I said. “You wanted to let me know you’d moved on completely and that I shouldn’t contact you again.”

“No, that’s not it,” Simon said as Johnny sat back down.

“Then what is it, Simon?” I snapped. “What do you want? I filed for divorce, I left you, I moved away from you, and the first time I called you in nearly a year is to arrest you, so you think that means anything?”

And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well

But I just came back to see how hard you fell

“You said at the station that you were still in love with me,” Simon said.

“No, I said I still loved you. There’s a difference. I’m not in love with you,” I said. It was mean and cruel, but I couldn’t let him think there was a chance we’d have a happily ever after. I was too much of a mess and barely managed to keep myself going most days as a functioning adult. 

“But you could be,” Johnny said. I narrowed my eyes at him, snarling almost, but he didn’t flinch. “You could fall back in love with him.”

“I. . . I am not the person I used to be, Simon,” I said, trying to swallow back tears. “I’m not the girl you fell in love with and I probably won’t ever be her again. I’m not who you want or need.” 

“Maybe Johnny’s right,” Simon said, scooting closer to me. “We’re both different people, but we could fall in love again.”

“It has been over a year, Simon,” I said. “You moved on with Johnny and I moved on. What is the point of us getting back together? We’re not good together.”

“No, we were,” Simon said. “We just lost each other when we lost Dierdre.”

“Don’t,” I snapped, close to losing it. “Don’t bring her into this.” 

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

“You shut down so hard and pushed me so far away when we lost her, Love,” Simon said, reaching out to touch my knee. I pulled away instantly like his touch burned me. I sat rigid in my seat as I refused to look at him. “We made mistakes and we fucked up. I fucked up. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me.” His voice was catching, making it hard to steel myself, to keep myself in my self appointed isolation. “It’s not your fault and I don’t blame you for anythin’. The drinkin’, the lyin’, the fights, I don’t blame you. Neither of us were in the right. I. . . I never stopped lovin’ you. Even when I met Johnny, I still loved you just as much as I did before. I still do.”

I shook my head, feeling my shell crack as tears slid down my face. 

“You had a miscarriage, Love. We lost our baby girl and I thought I lost you too,” Simon choked out. We didn’t talk like this after we got home from the hospital. I had been seven months pregnant when something happened. There were sharp pains that I shouldn’t have had. Before we knew it I was in the hospital bleeding, hemorrhaging. The sac she was in didn’t develop right and it burst. By the time I was in delivery she was already gone. I barely made it out alive. 

“You’re not just one event in your Simon’s life,” Johnny said suddenly, making me flinch. “A loss of a child is one of the hardest emotional pains to endure and a lot of couples do divorce afterwards because it seems like the world has come down upon you. It’s okay to feel those feelings and work through them, but it seems that you didn’t want to or didn’t have the capacity at the time to work through it with Simon. These things take time and that may be what was needed. Time.”

“Johnny was my counselor for a while,” Simon said with a soft chuckle. I looked at him, seeing the tears running down his cheeks, his mask off. It was the first time I had seen his face since before the hospital visit. “Then for obvious reasons I started seein’ a different counselor.”

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

“The heart wants what it wants,” Johnny said with a soft smile and a shrug. “All that aside, with everything Simon has told me, I couldn’t deny him of seeing you. He loves you too much and I love him. I want us to be happy and even if that means we have separate relationships with Simon or if you just want to be friends again, I am all for it. Being married and together for so long, as well as soulmates, makes for an intense relationship, but also one you can’t just forget and burn a bridge to with something like you guys. All I ask is that you consider it and we’ll work through it together.”

“I don’t know,” I said softly. “I don’t think I’m ready or ever will be ready.”

“Love,” Simon said, reaching out to grasp my hand that had gripped my knee tightly. “We don’t have to pick up where we left off. I just. . . I need you in my life. Please.” 

God, the feel of his hand around mine made me want to curl into a ball in his lap, let him rock me and hold me. It was so hard to keep myself in check. 

“So, this is about making yourself feel better?” I said, trying to make a wedge between us. He needed to leave and move on with Johnny. They could be happy together, adopt, get a dog. I was too broken and missing pieces. There was no way that I could go back to him, not because he had been the cause, but because I was certain I would only hurt him again when he saw how badly I was cracked. “I told you, Simon. I am not who I was when we met, let alone when we got married. This version of me is not someone who is the loving and caring partner that is soft and a safe place to land.”

Build me up or tear me down, I will never make a sound

Build me up or tear me down

“How about a reset?” Johnny said. I looked at him confused, unsure what he was getting at. “You wipe the slate clean, you start over. That means, you start out as friends again, move on from there. I find it helps couples that feel they can’t get over certain bumps in the road to have an imaginary reset button. It’s been a year since you two have been around each other, you’re obviously in different places in your lives, and you have changed. A reset would probably be the best thing for you two if you want to be around one another again.”

“So what, we just pretend nothing happened before now?” I asked with a scoff.

“No, you definitely don’t do that,” Johnny said. “You start fresh. You acknowledge that you both have a past, but you don’t work around it. You work with it.” 

“I’m on board for whatever you want,” Simon said. I took a deep breath, holding Simon’s hand without realizing it. 

Run a dagger through my chest, I believe it's for the best

Build me up or tear me down

“I can’t,” I said, pulling my hand away from him. “I just can’t.” That sucking pit in my chest that had snuck up on me was gasping to get more of me. 

“You don’t have to punish yourself for losing a child,” Johnny said. He had gone to his knees in front of me, making me see his face as he looked up at me. His words were spoken softly, but a force to pull me back from that place I was comfortable with. Where it was dark and lonely and it made sense to feel guilt. “You did everything you could to keep her safe and loved her so much. You were a good mum. It’s not your fault.”

All I could do was stare at him as he nodded, taking my shaky, clammy hands in his large, rough ones. I had manhandled him into cuffs earlier without hesitation, moving on instinct, and now I was in his calm, grounding grasp. “But-”

“It will never be your fault. There is no need to punish you for something that was not your doing. You deserve to be loved and have someone be there for you. This was not a failure on your part and never will be. You can let go of that weight. You’re not alone anymore and don’t have to be again.”

There are scars that'll never ever show themselves

You get when you're left alone too long in Hell

“Okay,” I choked out. “I. . . I want to try the reset thing.”

“We’ll go slow and easy,” Simon said. 

“I want to start as friends, with both you and Johnny,” I said looking from Simon to Johnny.

“That’s the most I would ask for,” Johnny said, a smile on his face. 

“Give me some time right now. I’ll text you later and we’ll go from there, okay?” I said, needing to remember to breathe.

They tried to keep in the secrets that you wouldn't tell

But they just stripped you for parts you had to sell

“Sounds good,” Simon said, a smile spreading across his face as well. Even though we got what we all wanted apparently, why was I the only one not smiling? Why did it feel like I wasn’t going to get what was promised? The only person dangling the carrot in front of me was myself and I knew the bitch would never let me have it if someone didn’t make her.

“I’m gonna give you two a minute, I’ll be out in the car,” Johnny said, getting up. He dropped a kiss to Simon’s head and waved to me before letting himself out. 

“What?” I said, looking at Simon as he stared me down.

“Do you really want to do this? To reset?” He asked. 

“If I didn’t, would I have said yes to it?” I asked, rolling my eyes, unable to keep from putting up my guards.

“No, but that doesn’t mean you’re lettin’ it all out there,” he said. 

“I just. . . I don’t know. I feel like I let two strangers into my apartment to emotionally bully me into a relationship that I am terrified of,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t know how to be or to act around you anymore.”

“It’s okay,” Simon said, taking my hand in his. It was warm and rough, just like always. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll give you all the time and space you want.”

“What if I don’t want space?” I blurted out. I had shut down after Dierdre, pushed everyone away, and made myself alone. Like Johnny had figured out, I was punishing myself for my daughter’s death. I did that to myself because it felt like the right thing to do at the time, but I didn’t want it anymore. Not when Simon wanted me back, but. . . 

“What do you mean?” Simon asked.

“I mean. . . I am so tired of being alone and I am so tired of pushing people away. I don’t care about the sex or kissing, I just don’t want to be alone again,” I said, managing to get it out before I broke down into sobs. 

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

Simon didn’t let go of me. Slowly, he pulled me from my chair to set me in his lap. His long arms wrapped around me, holding me tight as I sobbed against him. 

It had been so long since I’d had that simple comfort that I didn’t want to let go. I didn’t want to go slow and stay home by myself. I wanted to go with Simon and Johnny and just stop being fucking alone. It was as if Simon was reading my mind as the back of my hand began to itch under my tattoo. 

“Why don’t you come home with us for a while?” Simon asked. “Don’t worry about anythin’, I’ll help you pack a bag and when you feel up to it, we’ll come back.”

Build me up or tear me down, I will never make a sound

Build me up or tear me down

“Okay,” I nodded, hiccuping from crying so hard. There was no fight left in me as he continued to hold me, only taking out his phone to text Johnny. A few more minutes and I walked with him like a child holding their parents hand to their bedroom where the monsters were. We packed a basic bag before I slid on shoes then grabbed my keys, phone, and wallet. With my place locked up, Simon led me out to the car where Johnny was waiting in the driver’s seat. He didn’t say a word or make any fuss as Simon got in the back with me to hold me as we drove back to their house. 

I knew Simon had sold our old house six months ago, getting another one down the street from it. It was a blessing because I would not be able to go back into that house. Brief flashes of how we had worked to make it ours, the decorations, furniture, the nursery ran through my mind. But instead of breaking down and having a drink, I nuzzled against Simon’s chest as his heavy arm kept me close.

Run a dagger through my chest, I believe it's for the best

Build me up or tear me down

Once there, I walked in holding Simon’s hand. Johnny didn’t seem surprised at all by any of it. In fact it was almost like he was expecting it. “Here’s some water and ibuprofen, you probably have a headache and are dehydrated,” he said as he handed me both items.

“Thanks,” I said, taking them. 

“If you’re hungry we can order something or you’re more than welcome to lay down or even take a shower, whatever you’d like,” Johnny said as he took my bag for me. Going down the hall and straight to their room. I knew it was their room because it had a huge bed I could see from the front. 

“I can sleep on the couch or the guest room,” I said, trying to back peddle from something I didn’t even realize was taking off so quickly.

“Don’t worry about,” Johnny said. “You’re probably touch starved and your soulmates haven’t been around in a year. It’ll create a tension of sorts, make you irritable, cause mood swings, depression, anxiety, general mental disarray. The best thing to do for it, if you can, is to be with your soulmates. That means you share the bed with us.”

“Us?” I said, my voice cracking.

If I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

“Simon will sleep in the middle, don’t worry,” Johnny said as he walked to the closet to grab extra pillows and blankets. 

“I think I’ve just been bamboozled,” I mumbled. That little shit knew all along that I’d end up coming home with them. He probably knew about the tickets! Knew that I was a bounty hunter! I was going to have to keep my eye on him. 

“Probably,” Simon said with a chuckle. “He’s shifty like that. But, he is right. You’re probably touch starved, so you’re stayin’ in the same bed as us. Do you want to shower or anythin’?” 

“I just want to lay down. My head is killing me and I’m a bit overwhelmed,” I said.

“Fair enough, keep drinkin’ the water though,” Simon said as he led me to the bedroom. 

“Yes, Sir,” I said with a snort before taking a drink of the water.

“Oh, yeah, Simon is definitely, Sir,” Johnny said as he put the pillows and blankets on the bed for me. I couldn’t help but choke on my water. “Oh, too soon?”

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

“I think she just needs to rest,” Simon said, patting me on the back. 

“Okay,” Johnny said with a shrug. “Here’s a wet cloth for ye too.” He handed me one for my eyes before walking out. 

“Here, you get settled,” Simon said, helping me get into the large, California King sized bed. “Need anything else?” 

If I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

“No, I think I’m good,” I said, letting him drape the wet cloth over my forehead. 

“Alright. I’m gonna go take a shower then I’ll be in to lay down with you, okay?” He said.

“Okay,” I mumbled, already falling asleep. It didn’t take long for me to do just that, but I woke up later as Simon was sliding into bed. All the noises were gone from the usual household that was awake, telling me everyone was going to bed. I felt Simon lay on his back, making it easy for me to move to lay with my arm over his belly. What I didn’t expect was another arm to lay over mine. At first I wanted to pull away, but the longer I let it stay, the more it felt right.

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

Masterlist

Taglist: @birdstoprey @sebbytheraccoon @pricescigar @alwaysshallow @sae1kie @sleepydang @lexi-zsy09 @ghostlywhiskey @ghosts-cyphera @poohkie90 @neothewitch @shadofireshinobi @sadslasher13 @0alk0msan @xaestheticalien

[goodlucktai]

tagged by @bobtheacorn like...... 3 weeks ago 😭 my bad

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

283

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,353,670

which seems.......excessive

3. What fandoms do you write for?

actively, one piece and tmnt, but that is ruled by the demons in my brain that control the hyperfixation machine.

fandoms ive posted 3 or more fics for:

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends Good Omens Final Fantasy XV Undertale Mumintroll | Moomins Series Harry Potter Young Justice 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia 陈情令 | The Untamed King Falls AM Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rise of the Guardians Voltron: Legendary Defender

4. Top five fics by kudos?

Exclusivity - 11,116

walk straight through hell with a smile - 9,152

Inanition - 9,039

there is thunder in our hearts - 8,161

trouble is a friend of mine - 7,842

5. Do you respond to comments?

i do try to but i can't always :'( and i feel terrible if i manage to reply to most and then forget someone and only realize it months later. but i read every single comment and i appreciate them more than i have words for

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

i tend to veer away from angst, but off the top of my head....

where the good men go or if i go i'm going on fire

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

99% of my fics have a happy ending because thats my BRAND but i suppose give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around or the weekend we were in love OR put your empty hands in mine

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not often, but i recently had someone who REALLY disliked the way things change because i 'villainized' raph. which is definitely news to me, since raphael is the love of my life

9. Do you write smut?

nope

10. Craziest crossover?

i wrote a tmnt/one piece crossover once ? but now that we are actually getting a tmnt/naruto idw run it doesnt feel that weird to me anymore

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

only once if i'm remembering right ?? it was a long time ago and wattpad related, which is a site that i dont really understand and therefore tend to avoid

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes ! i'll often have people request to translate my stories and it blows me away every time

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

Devil took your hand was written by myself and @moogsthewriter

14. All time favourite ship?

ineffable husbands, wangxian, or leosagi

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

how much time do you have 😭

16. What are your writing strengths?

i want to say characterization and narrative voice. i'm also pretty good at maintaining a throughline, even if it sometimes gets a little wobbly

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

conflict ! i hate it ! i will avoid writing it at all costs ! i also tend to struggle with writing fight scenes, especially when there are several characters involved :') staging any kind of choreography is my opp

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i try not to but if it feels unavoidable i google the heck out of it

19. First fandom you wrote in?

honestly it was either digimon (which also inspired my og penname) or xiaolin showdown lol

20. Favourite fic you've written?

i'm stealing bob's idea and going top 5:

there is thunder in our hearts - this story came together so easily for me, like i knew exactly how i wanted to tell it from start to finish

the only hoax i believe in - a kfam fic in my top 5s why yes and i'll tell you why. because i poured so much of myself into this fic that they could probably read it at my funeral instead of a eulogy

traveling so far to get there - after party au raph and mikey continue to take up so much real estate in my brain and for what

now the darkness comes alive - this one is more recent but im so happy with the way it turned out :')

if we could stay all day in the sun - it was a lot of fun reimagining one of my favorite fairy tales and doing a bunch of unnecessary research for this story i will stand by it until the day i die !!

i'm tagging @mykimouser, @owletstarlet, @portgas-d-aroace, @mad4turtles, @camsthisky, @remedyturtles, @pickledcarrotsandradish, @swordsmans, @mangogreent, and anyone else who wants to !

[voidscarredadjudicator]

Hey y'all, sorry for the silence - as you can imagine by the last post, things have been a little stressful. The short version is that it's worse than what we thought, and I'm gonna need surgery - but I will recover! All I need (other than surgery) is physical therapy, time, and ibuprofen. And whatever industrial strength painkillers they give me, because holy fuck the procedure will leave me sore. Despite this news, I'm staying pretty positive about things, so don't fret for me. If you're interested in the finer details of the nuclear bomb that exploded in my knee, I'll elaborate past the keep reading thingy - but if you're not interested in or unsettled by descriptions of injuries or surgical procedures, I'll simply tell you that this is an injury common among football players, and the procedure I will undergo is what they give to said football players with the intention of getting them back to the sport that caused the injury to begin with. Frankly, my doctor might be overqualified for me.

And for those of you who aren't so squeamish, I've got a combination of a complete ACL tear, meniscus tears, and a fractured tibia. The way I fell not only twisted my leg to tear a ligament cleanly in half, but my femur jutted down into my lower leg bone hard enough to crack it - which is actually why I feel so much pain when attempting to put weight on it. Initially, I was a little panicked, because the folks at the clinic I went to said I could put "weight as I could bear" on the leg, but the amount of weight I could bear at the time was a fat zero, and continued to be as such for weeks. Didn't help that initial X-Ray didn't show anything wrong, so I had no idea my bone was even in that shape until just a few days ago. On the bright side, the fracture itself doesn't require any surgery - it'll heal naturally over about 2 months (which one month has passed already since the injury so we're halfway there). No, the elephant in the room is the torn ACL.

It's fucked beyond repair. In the picture of the MRI scan I got, it visibly just. Ends. The ACL, or 𝓐𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓻 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓛𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 is one of two ligaments (the other one being the PCL, or 𝓟𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓻 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓛𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽, of which mine is completely fine) that basically stabilize the knee. Keeps the bones from moving too far apart from each other, basically. So, pretty important! Right now, my physical therapy is just trying to get my leg to move how it did before the injury again in preparation for the surgery, with the logic being that doing so will both speed up recovery post operation and minimize potential for complications.

What they're gonna do is take a piece of one of my tendons, drill a hole through my femur and tibia, stretch the piece of tendon through the holes where my ACL was at, and secure it in place with bone screws, where that bit of tendon will become my new ACL. As far as the torn meniscus, they'll take care of that during the ACL surgery as well - depending on how it's torn, it'll either need stitched up or the torn bits removed. They have no way of knowing until they're in there. After that, it's more PT to keep it in working order. For sports folks, it takes about 6 to 12 months to get back to playing. My hobbies aren't really active though, so that'll be a breeze for me.

So uhh yeah. Ao3 writer's curse is real. But I'll be fine. Sore, but fine.

[elkkiel]

"shy" anon,

hehe good. im glad you feel special. it is a very big project, and ive made a little bit of headway with writing it. its a 12 book series, multi-chapter, NOT short stories. i have the entire thing planned out from front to back. no need to be intimidated by that. im just me. unless youre talking about the project, then i get it. it is a lot to look at all at once. it kind of took on a mind of its own and became something i wasnt really expecting. on top of that, i also have plans to go to film school within a few years, with the goal of making all my own books into movies someday. hopefully at NAIT in edmonton. if they have the course that ive been eyeing.

we are fairly familiar with each other, yes. ive been hyper aware about my tags and how i word things, wondering if youll catch any similarities to my messages lol and this is definitely fun. a lot of fun.

as for music, i also listen to bit of everything. recently its been a combination of metal (at the moment a lot of deathcore and metalcore specifically) and blues/jazzy sexy stuff. dont really know how else to describe it lol. same reason you mentioned, it scratches that itch just the right way. other than those its hozier, bad omens, teddy swims, yebba, sooooo many others my mind is kind of blanking. this is super random, but i found a youtube page that makes versions of songs as if it was the medieval times. the one they did of eminem is fuckin fire lmao its called "bardcore". i do listen to some pop artists but these days they just dont hold my attention like it used to.

i am so excited for you to go to your first one!! thatll be so exciting.

in the last two years ive gone to quite a few concerts/events with live music. in 2022 i saw shawn mendes in edmonton, which was a big deal, his music got me through a really hard time. and last year was the most jam packed concert wise. i saw ed sheeran in toronto, halestorm and volbeat in saskatoon, and then went to pride-fest in edmonton and saw hyphen hyphen. theyre more of a pop-rock group form france, and the vocalist is insane, i highly recommend checking them out. then in december of 2023 i also saw talk at winterfest. i was in the front row for that and it was so worth the -10 weather.

some of the details are sounding familiar, I just can't quite pin down what and for who... you're safe for now anon ;3

having full creative control over your stories like that would be the dream, hey? like getting to write AND take the lead on your own film adaptations? PRODUCERS HATE THEM for this 1 SIMPLE TRICK (film school). also I didn't know that NAIT offered courses like film!! I've met people that have gone through graphic design over there, but it's cool that there's more accessible creative courses like that available. I'm doing my degree at [the other large university in town that is not UofA], and sometimes I feel like it would have been more practical to go the technical college route ;w;

you're really in it for the long haul then!! a 12 novel series sounds like a hell of a time/creative energy investment, so I'm sure it'll be incredibly worth the final outcome!

ALSO YES I'VE HEARD OF BARDCORE LMAOO ITS ACTUALLY GOOD!!? I played d&d in high school, so I appreciate the kinda shitposty chaos vibes lol.

Do you have any live music plans for next year? Sounds like you're down for a pretty large variety in artists/experiences, so I'm sure there's something that'll catch your eye :P

[johnslittlespoon]

20 questions for writers

thank you @triggerlil for the tag!! <3 i'm so late omg but this was FUN, first tag game i've done that's more author than writing snippet/drabble related :-)

tagging @air-exec, @counting0nit, @don-humes-tiny-shorts, @eternallytired17, @hauntingcontradiction

@nicijones, @bucking-mustangs-with-wings, @swifty-fox, @mangokittokatsu, anyone else who wants to! i love reading tag games like these, it's nice to learn more about the ppl behind all the brainrot :')

questions & answers below the cut! x

how many works do you have on ao3?

12!

what's your total ao3 word count? 50,182 wtf i only made my ao3 in january lol

what fandoms do you write for?

i've written for lotssss over the past decade, but my current ao3 is just saltburn and masters of the air fics :-) for the sake of this tag i'm just gonna stick to my mota fics in my answers tho since yk. mota blog lol

top 5 fics by kudos?

i don't wanna be alone tonight – buckbucky breathe me in (exhale slow) – buckbucky you're a dog (i'm your man) – buckbucky you put your arms around me (and i'm home) – buckbucky four–by–four – buckbucky

do you respond to comments?

every single one <33 i take a long while sometimes because i get too lost in the actual writing or i get overwhelmed by the kindness lol but i always always respond eventually :')

what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

definitely i see you in the daytime (i hear you at night), my first fic for masters of the air actually that spawned as a way to vent my feelings after the dreaded third episode lmaoo </3 thought that would get those boys out of my system, and i couldn't be happier to have been more wrong <3

what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

ruh roh this kinda made me realize all my fics have some sorta melancholy/bittersweet ending even when they're hopeful... yad(iym) is gonna fix me fr (i think). but i guess the fuse to my fire since curt lives and the three of them are curtbuckbuckying indefinitely <3

do you get hate on fics?

i have in past fandoms but not here thankfully bc i am sensitive LOL. i've had weirdo anons that bitch about john bottoming (and i don't think those people realize it makes me inclined to write even more sub and/or bottom john to be petty SJGDK) but i wouldn't consider that hate, just bad fandom etiquette ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

do you write smut?

YEAHHH BABY <3 that's like. 99% of my drabbles/brainrot posts here and it takes serious self control to not just constantly write pwp oneshots, it's too much fun!! finding the balance in my chaptered fic for how much nsfw is too much is such a journey too lol, i wanna cram a spicy scene into every chapter but the part of me that adores slowburn over any other trope reins the gay brain in </3

craziest crossover?

haven't written any as of yet, but i do have my leaving!bikeriders au that i'm hoping to turn into a chaptered fic this summer, and that's exactly what it sounds like– buckbucky, but yank parts of callum's character from the leaving series and parts of austin's character from the bikeriders to create a buckbucky modern au. :-)

have you ever had a fic stolen?

i'm sure back in the wattpad days of the early '10s lol but none that i specifically remember!

have you ever had a fic translated?

in past fandoms!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

perhaps @curtsbigspoon and i cooked up like. 15k words of buckbucky thigh fucking etc months ago that i just need to get around to cutting down/editing >:-)

all time favorite ship?

i mean for me it's always a ship from whatever media i'm fixating on, so right now any variations of curtbuckbucky and cattonquick are everything to me <3 but in terms of ships that'll always have my heart, i can't ever let go of drarry, pricefield, clexa/murphamy, sciles/sterek– any from media i consumed during formative teenage years lol. but i will say i have never created anywhere near as much content for any other fandom as i have for mota :')

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

for once i actually have none that i see myself abandoning! i would notoriously abandon wips in past fandoms and probably would still, but guess who finally got on adhd meds last month after years of waiting? this guyyyy. i can start projects... and enjoy them the whole way through... and not get frustrated and trash them... who am i

i mean tbf i have at least a dozen wips that i've gotten either a few paras or few thousand words into lol but then a new shiny idea grabs my attention, but i do think i'll end up finishing most if not all of them off eventually! once i've invested enough time/words into a wip, i feel way more motivated to finish it so i'm not 'wasting' my efforts.

what are your writing strengths?

i feel most confident when i'm writing dialogue over anything else. writing conversation–heavy scenes or just straight up porn is when i overthink the least lmaoo

what are your writing weaknesses?

oh god, definitely having to spell out what's going on in a character's mind. like, i know what they're thinking as i'm writing out scenes; i can feel their emotions and all. i just have such a hard time putting it into words in a way that doesn't feel too obvious/overstated, if that makes sense. i very much prefer to show rather than tell their emotions, but sometimes it's hard to get that right, and i agonize over solo scenes the most, when i can't show what a character is feeling by way of verbal conversation with another character.

thoughts on dialogue in another language?

no specific opinion! sometimes it's cool to read/write, mostly i don't really have an opinion one way or another :-)

first fandom you wrote in?

lmfaooo i'm pretty sure it was either for olddd youtube ships or frerard ngl. not sure which came first bc i wrote so much at once

favorite fic you've written?

you're a dog (i'm your man) has been such a labour of love for me because i care so much about doing it justice :') so maybe that one, but if unfinished fics don't count, i actually wrote breathe me in (exhale slow) in one rushed four–ish hour sitting and was kinda neutral on it until i got a completely unexpected burst of kind and beautifully worded responses, and then i felt a tiny bit proud <3

[la-galaxie-langblr]

6 Week Challenge Week 6 Day 5 13/12/24

11pm hot chocolate w your housemate >>>>>

Today I:

Went to my final two classes of the semester 🥲

Visited student support with a friend because we both wanted to swap a module - goodbye stylistics hello history and varieties of English!! H&V is a first year module (I'm allowed to take 1 first year module this year if I want) so I'm hoping now that I'm a bit more experienced in linguistics I'll find the class fairly simple, obviously it'll still take work but it sounds way more interesting than stylistics does, so I think I've made the right choice :)

Stopped in Oxfam for a quick browse and left with a book of some of Voltaire's essays, hopefully they won't be too dry to read because it'll be good French practice!!

Came home and ate lunch

Hung out with my housemate

Tutored

Submitted my timesheet - first week I've worked 6 hours 🥳 hours increasing slowly but surely

Did some stretches since I'm still really sore from the ceilidh last night

Did some reading

Hung out with another housemate - we both have pretty different waking hours so it's kind of rare we get 1 on 1 time anymore, but it's extra special when it does happen

Made some cookies from dough I had in the freezer

Daily joys:

Last day with my French squad, we won't have our half hour yapping time next semester 🥲 but it was lovely getting to know them better, I really struggled to make a single friend in French until late last year and now there's a few more people I can hang out with!!

One of these friends also does linguistics and french as a degree and next semester we have the exact same timetable, so that'll be really fun to get to know each other better!!

My French grammar teacher brought a box of Celebrations to class for us all to eat since it's the last day, which was really nice of him :)

Goals progress:

I'm not gonna be able to finish either of my ongoing books before I go home for Christmas, but I imagine I'll finish them by the end of the year!!

[mobius-m-mobius]

Fave shows tag game

Rules: List 5 favourite shows (in no particular order) and answer questions accordingly.

Life on Mars

Good Omens

Mad Dogs

Loki

Psych

@loki-is-my-kink-awakening Thank you so much for the tag lovely!! Putting my answers to the questions behind the cut 😊

1. Who is your favourite character in 2?

Oh no not this😅 Don't wanna start off totally indecisive but In all honesty Aziraphale and Crowley are such a package deal I've never been able to decide who I liked more so both it is!

2. Who is your least favourite character in 1?

Probably Frank Morgan since he's meant to give everyone the creeps and totally untrustworthy but if we're talking main cast then Ray because everyone else is just too good ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

3. What's your favourite episode of 4?

Episode two THE beloved my one and only 🥺💖 12/10 would gladly watch Owen and Tom sit around chatting and mirroring the cafeteria vibes either as Lokius or themselves for the rest of my days

4. What is your favourite season of 5?

Gotta be S2!! All the earlier seasons are gold so was very tempted by the latter half of S3 but S2's like a tour de force

5. What's your favourite relationship in 3?

Baxter and Quinn would an obvious one since John and Phil are married in every role and this is no exception but the dynamic between Baxter and Rick is so weirdly fascinating?? They just clash so instantly, usually to great disaster but will never stop themselves or learn from their mistakes, absolutely obsessed tbh

6. Who is your anti relationship in 2?

I don't really have one?? If pressed I wasn't interested in Anathema and Newt being shoved together for no real reason or the implication of ending up with someone because you're told but I don't have any active dislike for them or their pairing

7. How long have you watched 1?

Well I was pretty late to pick the show up and watched for the first time around three years ago, have since rewatched the entire series at least 5 times in full, and various clips more times than I could ever count lol

8. How did you become interested in 3?

Thank my url namesake, lol. Truly the most stunning TV experience start to finish I've had with a flawless all star cast and just criminally underrated show in general!!

9. Who is your favourite actor in 4?

🤣🤣 Feel as if I've walked right into this one and y'all don't even need to hear the answer but that would be Owen Wilson, whose take on Mobius has honestly been life changing for me 💖

10. Which show do you prefer 1, 2 or 5?

Oh man as much as I adore Psych I'm stuck between Life on Mars and Good Omens on this one... Oh this is the worst, okay, I'm going... Life on Mars! When taking the point of how much I love both main pairs out of the picture there are more elements of and characters in LoM I think I enjoy more

11. Which show have you seen more episodes of 1 or 3?

I've watched both fully through multiple times but Life on Mars just edges by with having more episodes so that'll be the one!

12. If you could be anyone from 4, who would you be?

Loki or Ravonna just for sheer proximity of how much time would be spent around Mobius lmao, literally my only primary consideration

13. How would you kill off your favourite character in 5?

Laughing so hard at this because ironically my favorite character in Psych has pondered many scenarios potentially resulting in his own death lmao. If necessary he'd probably prefer a blaze of glory gunfight but I don't think he'd mind being taken out by his favorite land mine going off?? "Sweet music. And then…nothin' but red mist." 😂

14. Would a 3/4 crossover work?

Not necessarily unless you mean would it work in terms of turning me on in ways I've yet to experience in this life because yes, yes, and YES 😳😳

15. Pair two characters in 1 that would make an unlikely, but strangely okay couple.

Idk if it would be the most unlikely but Sam and Chris would've been cute and I always enjoyed how earnestly Chris ended up admiring Sam's approach to the work and who he is as a person

16. Overall, which show has the better cast, 3 or 5?

I mean Mad Dogs is my favorite show of all time in part because of how talented the cast is in balancing their roles and I can't see that changing plus I'd follow those guys anywhere

Tagging @faylights, @too-funky, @safedistancefrombeingsmart, @symphony-in-silver, @colourfulwatson, @bebx, @linz33y, @michaelsheens, @veraynes-blog, @aleerax, @abitofboth, @eyeldritch, @lovingvincent, @seekers-who-are-lovers, @z-aliada, and @alternatively-undesignated as always only if y'all feel like it plus anyone else who wants to join! 💕

[wetcatspellcaster]

12 more days until Baldy Gate! 🥰🥰🩷🩷🥰🥰 What’s your take on Astarion romance! Bittersweet? Secretly deep down lovely? I expect a little pain, but long term affection if cards are played right. Thoughts?

Hello lovely, thank you for the ask 💖💖💕 I'm super excited for full release as well!

I'm not entirely sure I'm right, but my predictions are that there might be two Astarion romances depending on if its an evil or good aligned run, given that my pal had ended up with an Astarion with a different personality as a result of their neutral evil playthrough! I actually ascribe to the idea that hes a character who's an asshole in the beginning but that means his act 2/act 3 is more about deepening the bond, getting him to drop the act and trust you rather than any betrayal, or break up (whereas I'm CONVINCED Gale's romance has some kind of shady conflict bc it was so hard to challenge his views and opinions in act 1 dialogues, that man is on some kind of mission).

Anyway, I think a good playthrough is mostly going to be "dismantle the sad traumatised vampire's walls and give him therapy" until you get underneath the veneer of charisma to the real person underneath. As to whether it will be bittersweet, I actually think the only bittersweet decision will be around vampirism... even though I levelled the idea of a cure in one of my fics I assume you have to make him a master vampire at the culmination of whatever Cazador plot is going to happen. We know that there's the option to vamp Tav as well but I honestly think that'll be the evil playthrough option, so there will be bittersweet "oh no we're on different timelines!" energy, tempered by "so let's enjoy ourselves now" hedonism bc Astarion. So a "happily for now" ending I guess!

I honestly think both evil and good will end up with a longterm affection ending, just in one you're both terrible people (affectionate) and in the other he's vaguely reformed. It seems like they designed Astarion to be a pretty flexible companion who sticks around regardless of playstyle and I imagine his moral event horizon will be whether or not you kill Cazador rather than any main game decision, so maybe **he's** the ride or die??

I guess we will see if any of those guesses are right!!

[btwxsixesandsevens]

Get to know your fic writer! I’m gonna be moderately demanding and ask 12, 16, 21 and 23!

Writer Asks!

12. How does recieving feedback (or not) impact you?

I have two kinds of stories -- ones I write for me and ones I write for y'all. I do not care if you don't comment on the ones I write for me. These are fics that weigh on me, that *I* need to have exist. These are ones where I'm writing myself in. My OCs. My culture studies. Black!Armorer started this way. I post these, but I know no one else really cares like I care. Now Fics I write FOR AN AUDIENCE -- most of my Ahsoka fics fall into this category, along with a lot of my m/f MCU content -- it pisses me off when I don't get comments. My feelings aren't hurt, per se. It feels like I made a whole meal and the audience looked over the table and didn't eat what they'd ordered. I know my fics are good (my ego is notable) and long term, it is discouraging to cook and have the food sit to rot. Now I will say that I'm lucky to have a core of a dozen readers who do comment, so I generally feel well appreciated in both categories. but I also keep well in mind that the fics that are for me, are just for me.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now?

Star Wars -- I'm cooking a Bo-Katan/Armorer fic with a little adventure and appearances from Hera and Fennec and basically all the post-war lesbians I love. that'll start posting mid October.

I've also gotten recently obsessed with a Barrissoka 1880s AU, so we'll see where that goes.

MCU -- I have a feeling that Bucky needs to introduce Yelena to Sarah Wilson. I think that'd be funny.

So that's...three? I *really* want to write an Aniseya/Korill, but the plot hasn't come to me yet, so it doesn't really count.

21. Collaboration.

I totally would! I've done it before and I'd do it again. It takes effort to find people I groove with tho, who write at the same...tone. and I'd want to be producing something really unique, something missing from the fandom. I'm not writing another "and then these two slender white mid-twenties women kissed chastely and did each other's makeup" fic. There's a place for that, but it isn't my lane.

23. advice.

write every day. The muse works for you, make her put out. Writing is a volume game. you're going to produce shit. so the more words you put on the page, the faster you get thru the shitty stuff to the good stuff. and the more you write, the easier it is to write. writing is a muscle and it doesn't get stronger from you just *thinking hard*.

Stay out of the kudos/comments game. that's a mind game that plays to popular pairings and predictable plots. don't write what other people write. find what makes your brain go brrr and write that. and if only 3 other people dig it? my shit isn't for everyone, just the sexy people.

delete your adverbs. use a stronger verb instead.

review your tenses. nothing bounces me off a fic faster than the writer not being clear on when something is happening.

love your work. if you don't love it, it shows. appreciate your own work, it is what remains, after all is done.

Thanks darlin' for the asks!

Anyone else?

Get to Know your Fic Writer

[chiimeramanticore]

Part of the Band - Chapter 11 - The Roof

Chapter summary: Beach Bear and Dook hang out on the roof. Beach Bear tells a little lie. Dook realizes a big truth.

Chapter word count: 1,628

<- Chapter 10 - Chapter 12 ->

Read it on AO3!

"Beach Bear, I'm home!" Dook calls as he enters the house. He expects a response akin to "Welcome back!" to sound out from the bedroom, but nothing comes.

"Beach Bear?" Dook tries again. Still no response.

Dook drops his bag by the couch and heads to the bedroom. "Beach Bear?" The room is empty. Could he have gone out somewhere? No, Dook is certain he saw his car in the driveway.

"Hello?" Dook says, trying the other spaces in the house. Nothing in the bathroom, no one in the kitchen, he even tries the closet.

Dook heads back outside, just to check if the car is actually there or if he's imagining things. But Beach Bear's car is, in fact, still sitting in the driveway. Dook frowns.

As he turns to head back inside, only then does Dook notice the ladder resting against the side of the house, leaning on the edge of the roof. Beach Bear wouldn't be up there... right? Maybe against his better judgement, Dook approaches and makes his way up the ladder.

There he is. Reclining on the roof of the house, Beach Bear rests one arm behind his head and the other across his stomach, holding a cigarette. He's here in just his shorts, his chest bare. He looks back over at Dook.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," Dook says back. "Mind if I join you?"

"Well, you climbed all the way up here," Beach Bear says. "It'd be rude to deny you now." He chuckles.

Dook climbs onto the roof from the ladder and crawls over to Beach Bear, sitting down next to him.

"I didn't know you came up here," Dook says.

"I don't," Beach Bear replies. "I've never done this before. Just wanted to try something new." He turns his gaze upward, to the sky. "Needed a new perspective, or something."

"Got a lot to think about?"

"Yeah."

"What's on your mind?"

Beach Bear sighs. "A lot, I guess," he says. "I feel bad for a lot of stuff. I... feel bad about Mitzi. I feel bad we're making her lie if she wants to be here. I feel bad she's mixed up in all this between me and Mini."

"She'd be in it either way," Dook says. "Besides, she said she wanted to join the band."

"I guess," Beach Bear says. "I just don't want her getting in trouble for it with Mini. And... I feel bad about hitting her."

"Mitzi?"

"No, no, Mini," Beach Bear says, laughing a bit. "I shouldn't have hit her that day we fought."

"She hurt you too, didn't she?"

"That's besides the point. I shouldn't have hurt her back. That doesn't make me any better than her. That doesn't make me good in general." He furrows his brow. "I dunno. I feel bad about it. And I feel bad I haven't–" He stops himself.

"... Haven't what?" Dook asks.

"...I feel bad I wasn't truthful with you," Beach Bear says.

Dook looks at him, a bad feeling suddenly stirring in him. Beach Bear doesn't match eye contact. Is he keeping more from him? Why else would he have stopped himself like that? But... what reason would he have for not telling him everything? Beach Bear wouldn't do that... right?

"But you... told me everything already, right?" Dook says. "About your parents. You don't gotta be sorry if I know everything."

"...Right," Beach Bear says, finally looking at him. He smiles. "You're right. I have nothing to be sorry for."

Dook eyes linger on Beach Bear for a moment longer. He turns his gaze downward, and notices something odd in his hand.

"I didn't know you smoked," he says. "Is that dope?"

"Yeah," Beach Bear says, amused. "I don't do this either." He lifts the joint to his mouth, seeming to almost savor the taste as he takes a hit. "I'm trying new things, remember? You wanna try?"

"No," Dook says instinctively. Then, "...Okay." Beach Bear hands him the joint. Dook lifts it to his lips and inhales... and then falls into a coughing fit.

Beach Bear laughs. "You alright?"

"Ugh-!" Dook exclaims. "My chest is on fire..."

"That'll happen your first time," Beach Bear says. Dook hands it back over.

"How come it didn't happen to you?"

"Oh, it did. You just weren't there for it."

Dook coughs again, clears his throat, and then lies down. The sky is clear tonight, and the stars are visible. Laying on the roof puts him closer to them, he realizes idly.

"...Stars on your mind, spaceman?" Beach Bear asks, also watching the sky.

"Yeah," Dook murmurs.

Beach Bear turns his head just slightly enough to look at him. "What's so appealing about space to you, anyway? It's a lot of nothing up there."

"I don't wanna go far, just... Just far enough to see the whole Earth. To see everything so small... Get a new perspective, or something."

Beach Bear chuckles. "Hell of a perspective."

"Don't you think it'd change you?" Dook asks, looking at him. "Everything's so small from all the way up there... Like your problems don't mean nothin' at all. Y'know Yuri Gagarin?"

"No?"

"He was the first man ever to go to space. And he said once, 'Looking at the Earth from afar, you realize it's too small for conflict and just big enough for cooperation.' And I think... I dunno, I think more people oughta have that feeling. Maybe it'd do the world some good."

Beach Bear watches Dook as he speaks, an emotion in his eyes Dook has never seen on him before.

"... Anyway," Dook says, bashful. "I should stop."

"No, no," Beach Bear insists, sitting up. "I like hearing you talk about what you're passionate about. I love seeing people get fired up about it, y'know?"

"Yeah..."

"...You still wanna go to space, don't you?"

"Sure," Dook says. "But seein' as I don't quite have the time right now, with the band and all, I guess I'll have to stick with you for a while. It's a good thing I like you so much."

Beach Bear beams. "I like you, too," he says.

Dook smiles back at him, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest at the thought of being smiled at so genuinely. Seeing Beach Bear smile has got to be one of his favorite things now– there's something just so addictive about his smile, his laugh... His voice in general, honestly. His eyes, his hands, his... everything. Everything about Beach Bear makes Dook happy, he realizes. But more than anything, making him laugh makes him happy. Making him happy makes him happy. He wants nothing more than that. He'd give up anything for that.

...His smile fades, just a touch, as that realization creeps upon him. The thought he'd give the world for Beach Bear, just to see that smile again. Just imagining it fills his stomach with butterflies, but it terrifies him just as much. No one's ever made him feel this way before. This... can't be right.

But can he deny what he feels? If he's realizing it now, the thought that maybe, maybe he's... in love, he can't simply pretend that he didn't have this realization, right? Maybe... maybe he can just ignore it? Make it go away on its own. Maybe they can just stay friends. Then he won't have to risk such vulnerability. Then he won't have to risk them hating each other forever if it doesn't work.

But Beach Bear's laugh makes him happy. It makes him so, so happy.

What's a poor dog supposed to do when that happens?

"...Hey, Dook?" Beach Bear says.

"Y- yeah?"

"Can I, uh... Can I come clean about something?" Beach Bear avoids looking him in the eye. Dook's heart skips several beats.

"Yeah, wh– Yeah. What's up?"

"Uhm," Beach Bear starts, laying back down. "When I said I don't do any of this. The roof thing, the weed thing... I wasn't exactly being truthful." He pauses, expecting Dook to say something, but nothing comes.

"I used to do this a lot, with Mini, actually," he continues. "Not here. On the roof of that abandoned house we hung out in. Whenever the day was rough, we'd just... climb up on the roof together and..." He trails off.

"...Did you like spendin' time with her?" Dook asks hesitantly.

"...Yeah," Beach Bear admits. "I think she's..." He sighs. "I don't know what I think. Those days sucked. But they were also the freest I'd ever felt at that point. We all hated each other... but we were everything each other had. We were a family, I think. And I think doing this was just... me trying to feel like that again, on my own."

"It hurts, right?" Dook says. "To have to leave your family."

"When it's your choice, yeah. I keep thinking I can fix it all, somehow."

Dook stares at the sky. "...I miss my mama," he says.

"Well, shit, Dook, call her or something."

"I can't," he insists. "I... I can't talk to 'em until I've made it. I told them that. I told myself that. If I called 'em now, I'd... It'd look like I gave up. I can't give up now."

Beach Bear says nothing. For the first time in a long time, the silence between them is not comfortable.

"...Thank you for telling me the truth," Dook says finally. He sits up. "I'm gonna hit the hay."

"Oh. Okay. Goodnight, Dook," Beach Bear says.

"G'nite," Dook says, climbing down the ladder. He curses himself the whole way down for not doing the one thing he came to do. For coming to a worse conclusion. For feeling this now, but still feeling unsure Beach Bear isn't keeping something from him.

Maybe he deserves this.

[katrinawritesthings]

Jinki/Jonghyun; hmm; PG

Just you know cute supportive boyfriend stuff : ) Jonghyun noses into his neck, against his jaw, into his cheek, and then presses a little smooch there.

"It's not that I want back on my promise, it's that you refused to respect me like as a human being with boundaries on multiple occasions and I stopped wanting to deal with your bullshit. Also, fuck you." Jinki nods decisively at the wiggly little face in the ceiling above his bed. That'll show him. That's totally what he should have said in that argument with his dad 12 years ago. Now that he's told the ceiling face then. Now. 

Now nothing. He didn't say it then and he can't go back and say it now. Jinki scrubs his hands over his face, blowing out a big puff of air through his lips, through his fingers. He really should get out of bed. It's like three and he at the very least should get up so he can get more food that isn't just his bed stash of graham crackers and chex mix. He really should. It's just that it's so hard. 

It's hard to just lie here and ruminate on old arguments that he can't win anymore too, but it's a different kind of hard. Laying here doing nothing in bed is a less physically exhausting kind of hard. He'd rather do mental gymnastics for hours on end than be any more exhausted than he already is. 

Well, maybe not, because as he has that thought, it comes with a wave of guilt and self-disgust that really doesn't settle well with him. Settles worse than usual, he thinks, maybe, because he's already tired his brain out all day by thinking about unfair shit that shouldn't have happened to him. fuck.

He lays there, tired and musty under his blankets and inside of his brain, trapped between making one bad choice and another bad choice, preparing to spend the next however long hating himself for it, and then, the bed dips next to him.

He doesn't jump, but he still startles; he didn't notice Jonghyun coming in. He smells good, like his usual perfume, and he settles himself comfortably in, right next to Jinki. One arm slides under Jinki’s head, the other over his chest, one leg over his thighs. Jonghyun noses into his neck, against his jaw, into his cheek, and then presses a little smooch there.

"Hi Jinki," he smiles. “I brought you an orange and also some tiny pancakes." And sure enough, in the hand that he slid over Jinki's chest, he was holding a plate with tiny little stacks of freshly microwaved mini pancakes, a little bit of butter spread on each one and a delicate puddle of syrup in the middle of the plate for dipping. Once Jinki takes that, Jonghyun sticks his hand between their bodies and rummages around his hoodie pocket before pulling out an orange.

 "Thanks, honey," Jinki mumbles. He picks up a little pancake with his fingers, dips it into the syrup, and pops it into his mouth, chewing slowly. Jonghyun copies him, then wiggles close to press yet another smooch to his cheek.

"I think you're very cute," Jonghyun says, punctuating it with another kiss, “and I like you a lot," and another kiss, "and I love you a lot." And then, again, another kiss. Jinki accepts the kisses, and the compliments, and tilts his head so he can rest it against Jonghyun’s temple.

"You're my favorite," he says. And he means that with his whole entire heart. In the same way that he knows that Jonghyun meant what he just said with his whole entire heart. As Jonghyun smiles into his neck and squeezes him gently, Jinki drops one of his own kisses to his hair. He might be a depressed lump that can't make his brain make a decision, but at least, to someone that he cares about, he's cute.

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

The only good thing that will have come out of this park job fiasco is that two weeks from tomorrow I should get a direct deposit of around $100 for my single day's work.

Should.

Problem is, I worked 8 full hours, but I was only on the clock for 4½. My boss had me come in at 11:30, but didn't add my name to the punchclock system until it was time for my lunch break at 3:00. I punched in at 3:00, immediately punched out for lunch (paid, luckily), punched back in at 4:00, then punched out for good at 7:30. My boss said he would go into the system and change my start time, but I don't think he ever did because I called to quit the very next morning. I did 8 hours of work at $15.06 per hour, so I should have made $120.48 before taxes; at my old job they took out between 12 and 13%, so I should take home around $105 for the day. If I only get paid 4½ hours, that'll be less than $60, and I'll complain to the labor board if they don't honor the remaining $45.

I'm in a low point in my life right now, so I could REALLY use that $105.

Well, no, it's not really that low. I have my own apartment, so I'm not trapped at my parents' place in the cultural wasteland of the Keys. I have my own car, so I can go wherever I want. I don't have any money, but I got food assistance for the next three months (there was a bureaucratic hiccup last week, but I resolved it and got my benefits reinstated), and my parents can help me with my rent now that my little sister got a job and they can stop paying hers. I'm seeing a new psychiatrist and am back on antidepressants for the first time in over 2 years (though they don't appear to be helping at all, so I'll need a new prescription next month).

Things are bad, but they could be much MUCH worse. I'm actually doing better than a lot of people; I still have a right to complain, but it's not as bad as it could be. Not yet, at least. My life sucks, but there's somebody out there who would kill for the position of relative stability I have now. I'm not gonna starve, I'm not gonna wind up homeless, I have a safety net if I need it.

I feel like a leach... Not on society, I mean a leach on my parents. I will never feel bad about being on foodstamps; the program exists to help people like me, and I will take full advantage of whatever pittance the state is willing to offer me (the Florida government sucks ass, and I deserve the assistance after all the taxes I've paid over the years), but I hate asking my parents for money. The only way I can justify it is that my dad consistently borrowed thousands of dollars from me when I Iived at home. He would borrow money, pay back a portion of it, then borrow more; he usually fluctuated between $500 and $1000, but his high water mark was over $3000. I was an interest free bank to him for years, so helping me with rent for however long it takes me to get back on my feet seems fair to me. I feel less bad if I think of it that way...

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Rejected Requests Pt. 15

Hello everyone! I am unfortunately back with another set of Rejected Requests (Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4, Pt 5, Pt 6 , Pt 7 , Pt 8 , Pt 9 , Pt 10, Pt 11, Pt 12, Pt 13, Pt 14)

I understand this is very disappointing for many of you. I promise it has nothing to do with you, and mostly it’s just because my brain has decided it doesn’t want to cooperate.

I will post the rejected fics below the cut. I want to give you the opportunity to ask another Writer (check the list of Writers seeking requests here!) Here is the list for anyone who might want to pursue the request with someone else, or for any writers that are looking for inspiration.

This is a lovely idea, but I think it would make me too sad to write any time soon. I hope that one of my angst loving followers takes a whack at it!

Unfortunately, I have it on my request guidelines that I don't accept requests for insecure reader. It's a very stressful mental space for me to occupy for long enough to write something. I hope you understand!

As funny as an idea this is, I'm not sure I could write any more than you already did, lmao!

This is a fun spin on the usual Truth or Dare request! Unfortunately, my request guidelines say that I don't accept requests for Secret Family fics. I do think it would be a fun fix it fic idea for whoever is interested, though!

For personal reasons, I'm just not sure I'm up to an Autistic reader right now, and I also do not accept requests for insecure readers. It's a difficult space for me to be in long enough to write something - I hope you understand!

Honestly, this is super late now, but I just couldn't come up with something other than a typical Valentine's day fic, and I already have a few! Check out my recommendation list here for more.

As much as I love domestic fluff, I just imagine that they had already had that conversation with their daughter before it happened. So, I don't imagine anything really happening!

Unfortunately, it says on my request guidelines that I don't write fics revolving around weight because I am thin. I try my hardest to make the vast majority of my fics open to plus size readers. If I can do anything to help make fics more accessible, please let me know!

Honestly, I wish I could do this right now, but CM Evolution made me so annoyed with her character that I can't write her very well right now 😭 Hopefully that will change soon.

Hey friend! This is such a unique idea, I wish I could motivate to write it, but unfortunately I struggle writing mean Spencer 😅 If it's any consolation, I do have one smut WIP that will be mean Spencer that'll have dialogue along those lines. It's called "Lovers' Quarrel." I hope you enjoy it when I get to it!

Thank you everyone! Again, I'm so sorry I had to reject these requests. I hope you can find someone else to write them for you!

[chill-mcyt-art-reblogs]

💫🌻🌿🍉🎈💞🍭💎🎙️ (feel free to pick and choose!)

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

honestly? Anything that'll let me infodump in response. When I can tell that someone was interested enough to ask a question. *especially* about ongoing fics.

Listen I could never write a mystery because the minute someone asked I'd tell them every plot twist and the bad guy's blood type.

and, of course, I love it when people leave essays in the comments. Like every other author.

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

I struggle with motivation. There's nothing more frustrating than *wanting* to do something, but your brain won't let you. You have you drag yourself kicking and screaming into something you *want* to do.... and after a while, it stops being fun.

The problem is, I really, *really* want to write. I literally think about my stories every single day. But sometimes there's nothing to do but relax, take it off my mind, and try my best the next day.

🌿how does creating make you feel?

it's a high. For writing at least. the rush of doing something I watched thousands of writers do since I was 12 and *I'm doing it.* Me. Little ol' me. *I'm* doing that. Forget kudos and comments and hits, the mere act of writing gives me a rush.

🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

It's served different purposes at different time. When I first hit the Rough Medical Times, it gave me something to do while on those long weeks of bedrest. I'm not joking when I say fanfiction saved at the very least my mental health.

Now it's more of a "no matter how bad it gets, you can get out. You can get your happy ending. Nothing's final for you." kind of thing.

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

It changes all right. Depending on the story, my mood, what I read last - anything. Sometimes I feel more poetic, sometimes I feel more rough. I don't really think about it much, but it definitely happens.

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

oh boy. I can't choose. I guess it would have to be grammer (for fanfiction only). Because I can read anything that scratches an itch AS LONG AS IT'S READABLE

🍭why did you start writing?

I've always been writing. I guess I just have a hard time finding specifically what I want to see.

💎why is writing important to you?

It's a lifestyle.

🎙️which one of your fics would you like someone to make a pod-fic of?

Published? I guess Sanctuary? Unpublished: the longsuffering untitled Phil-centric fic I'm so excited about