#the pacing for this chapter is kind of weird but you know what. it’s nano babey

[duck-newton]

New chapter!!! Ned’s turn

[goose-books]

& while i am posting things today. some more maxwriting, specifically two mini-fanfictions for yves. @yvesdot​ ’s WIP the one and only universe of kay rainier (would recommend! arguments to lovers! he/him wlw! interdimensional (?) shenanigans!) one of which also features an OC i've mentioned a few times on this blog but done historically very little with.

it’s occurred to me in my moment of posting that neither of these pieces have titles. oh well.

THE FIRST ONE

you ought to send yves. some bingo prompts. anyway, i sent them kay + daemons, and then immediately realized i had ideas and thoughts about that, too. so i wrote my own version. unlike theirs, this is vaguely set in the HDM universe, which is funny because i haven’t read HDM and learned everything i know from waya vivji, a single war and peace fanfiction, and also wikipedia just before i wrote it. the notable context here is that daemons are usually the “opposite sex” of their humans, and if i got that wrong do not tell me because i am embarrassed.

Kay is a precocious child; she is twelve years old when her daemon settles. Chesire is a sleek dark mahogany, a ferruginous hawk with a wickedly curved beak and eyes that glitter like beads. He is also male. This, for the Rainiers, is not done; even the absent Ariel, despite his eccentricities, had a properly gendered daemon. It unsettles Kay in a way she will not place for many years; still, as soon as she registers her disappointment (for it must be disappointment, surely; nothing more), she’s awash in guilt.

“How lovely,” she tells him, stroking his glossy new feathers, keeping her voice low less to keep out her father and more because it is only polite. Cheshire bobs his head and flutters his wings and seems, very slightly, to preen. He must be able to sense her uncertainty, the subdued flatness to her voice, but he is a Rainier as well; the polite thing is to ignore it, and he does.

“How curious,” Father says, stroking Fauntleroy’s velvet ears.

“Not unheard of,” the dormouse says from her seat in his breast pocket. Constantine inclines his head slightly; he does not deign to offer more.

/

When the Neighborly enters the house the jackal stalks at his heel, ears pricked at attention, wet black nose gleaming, mouth crooked open in a canine grin. With it comes a distinct smell — not unpleasant so much as it is unbalancing, an earthy scent, filling the foyer as its claws click on the floor. Like his clothes, it is black, head to toe. They aren’t usually. Kay wonders if it’s coincidence, if perhaps he dyes its fur so it will match.

She thinks of it as such — it — because to be frank she is not sure what to make of Atlas, and what to assume about his daemon. During the customary introductions, Cheshire perches atop Kay’s shoulder, and Fauntleroy emerges from her pocket to whisk up to Father’s collar and cling to the fabric to study the Neighborly. He can’t stay quite still. His hands twitch at his sides. He shifts his weight. The jackal paces maddening circles around the room, eyeing the dark walls and the fine wooden furniture, too dignified to lower its head and sniff but not too good to cast judgment without speaking. Every time it passes Kay in its slow inexorable orbit, Cheshire’s claws tighten on her coat.

“It’s a pleasure, Atlas,” Constantine says stiffly, extending a hand to shake with an expression that suggests he’d rather have it removed.

Atlas shakes, grinning easily, a looseness to his motions, and then he tilts his head and says, “Anubis.” In a moment the jackal’s at his side, curling around the backs of his legs to turn its wet smile on Kay’s father. It’s too large; that’s what she decides. How does he take it anywhere? Why hasn’t it learned to behave? Unless this is his goal: to part rooms, to announce his presence as soon as he steps through the threshold.

“Anubis,” she says, the first time she and Atlas are alone. “Like the god?” Atlas and Anubis; it is the sort of half-joke she can appreciate.

Anubis looks up at its name. Atlas looks at it. “I don’t know,” he says. “It was my sister’s idea.” He looks to Cheshire, who has settled near Kay’s inkwell to reorganize her pens. “And this is…”

“Cheshire.”

“Cheshire,” Atlas repeats, piercing glinting as his eyebrow quirks.

“When I was younger, I thought he would be a cat.”

“I thought she’d be a crow. Probably better this way. Crows are poser birds.” Anubis snorts at that, a sound both doggish and human.

“She is… she, then,” Kay says carefully.

“Oh, yeah. Apparently that’s weird.” Atlas leans back in Kay’s chair until the front legs leave the ground.

“Is it,” Kay says.

Atlas’s eyes flit around her face, like he knows what she’s asking; his smirk doesn’t lessen. “Well, women have male daemons, right? Ask Cheshire.”

Kay and Cheshire look at each other. Cheshire fluffs his feathers and says, “This is dull.”

Kay is less certain. She does not smile at Atlas, but some of the edge has smoothed from her voice. “I should like to watch you explain it to my father.”

“If he could take it,” Atlas says. “What’s the mouse’s fucking name again?”

Cheshire steps back and forth, feathers ruffling, until Kay sets a hand out to still him, gentle, comforting. “Fauntleroy.”

“Christ,” Atlas says. “Bless you.” When he catches Kay stiffening, he relents a little, letting the chair clatter back to the floor. “Fits the vibe, I guess.”

“As yours fits you,” says Kay, making it as uncomplimentary as she can.

“Guess my soul’s black,” Atlas says cheerily. He balls up a piece of paper and tosses it to Anubis, who, flopped across the floor, doesn’t move. “Not the weirdest thing about us.”

“Well,” Kay says, “I think it would be rather unfair for me to talk about oddities,” and she takes a small victory in the look they share: not friendship, not fondness, but something like an understanding, reached in the quiet moment before Cheshire hands her another pen and she resumes her work.

THE SECOND ONE

this one’s a bit older but i never posted it until now, at yves.’s urging! i think i was doing... camp nano last year? or something. and couldn’t think of what to write. or maybe i couldn’t focus on my project because i was thinking about my other project, the butch4butch hamlet retelling i still haven’t written. to which yves. said, “write kay x your lesbian hamlet character,” to which i said, “you don’t think i will, but i will,” and i did. so really this is yvesmax crossover fic.

It is annoying, Holden’s habit of dropping by whenever she likes. This can probably be attributed to the fact that Holden, herself, is annoying. Kay can only adjust the items on her desk (pens, mainly) so many times; she is caught up in an aggravating state of waiting but also not waiting, and she does not care for that.

Just as she thinks so, there’s a knock at the front door.

Holden doesn’t ring the doorbell anymore. She did that the first time and Kay came down the stairs a few seconds too late to find Father staring at the creature in his front hall, looking like he didn’t know whether he should be put out or concerned. “I think the earrings got him,” Holden said later, on Kay’s bed, tapping the crosses hanging inverted from her ears. Kay’s opinion was that it was all of her, from the messy post-buzz hair to the propensity for suits to the Doc Martens to the way Holden leans on any available surface.

She opens the door and Holden is leaning against the doorframe. Which looks a little more awkward coupled with whatever she’s carrying under her arm.

“Hi,” she says.

Kay blinks slowly.

“It is late,” she says, spinning on her heel and heading for the stairs. Behind her, she hears the quiet click of Holden closing the door. The grandfather clock in the front hall is ticking toward eleven.

“I never get over how weird this place is.” When she glances back, Holden is peering into the nearest glass cabinet. “Like a little dollhouse.”

“Thank you,” Kay says stiffly. She cannot decide whether she is irritable.

“And this is coming from someone whose parents were devoted to taxidermy.” Holden follows her up the stairs, hands shoved into the pockets of her suit jacket, looking entirely too comfortable here, and Kay decides that she is irritable after all.

“I do not know what you suppose your business is here,” she says. “Especially as it is almost an hour past ten.”

Holden shrugs.

“Do not shrug at me.”

Holden opens her mouth as if to speak, then casts a glance behind her. There’s no one in the darkened hallway; Father is in his office. Still, Holden waits for Kay to shut her bedroom door.

“I know I’m late,” she says, slouching back against it. “Sorry. I lost track of time in the bookstore.”

Kay blinks. “You are late to see me because you went to the bookstore,” she intones.

She says nothing as Holden withdraws the books from under her arm and extends them. “I really wanted to find Carmilla for you,” she says. “Like, the oldest print version I could find.”

It certainly looks old. Kay purses her lips. “I own Carmilla.”

“I know. But, like… it’s vintage.” Holden attempts one-handed jazz hands. “I have a sentence in my notes app from six months ago that just says carmilla but like the old edition.” She shuffles the stack of books. “And then I sat down for — look, I swear I was trying to be timely about it. Trying to be punctual.” She pops the P. “But time isn’t real and I read two chapters of Pride and Prejudice and I don’t know if you own that but it feels like the kind of thing you’d find sexy.” Her smile glitters. “And then — I know The Catcher in the Rye isn’t your thing. But I wrote in this one, so.”

Kay reaches out, very carefully, to take the books. She does own Pride and Prejudice, actually, but she still feels a pang. She flips through The Catcher in the Rye and is met with scrawls of black-ink handwriting, filling up the margins and underlining passages.

“Thank you,” she says, very softly, and moves to set the books on her desk. “You didn’t have to… get me anything.”

“I like knowing that my parents’ money is fueling homosexual agendas,” Holden says pleasantly. When Kay turns around, Holden catches her hand and steps in closer, showing her teeth in a smile. “But I’ll try to be on time from now on.”

“As you should,” Kay says, pulling Holden a few inches closer.

Holden raises a hand to caress Kay’s cheek. “That said,” she says in a low voice, “now that I’ve — what did you say. Now that I’ve fulfilled my business here, I can think of a few things we could do. Unless it’s too late.”

Against her will, Kay smiles.

“I suppose we can extend your stay a little longer,” she says, and their lips meet.

[callioope]

Rebelcaptain Fencing AU

So this is what I’m writing for NaNoWriMo this year.

Words written today: 5841 (thank you for a day off, allowed me to catch up after falling behind during last week)

Words written total: 21,082 (my NaNo count is 18,832 though, because I technically started writing a little before November.)

Currently working on Chapter 5 out of ??? (I am getting very near the end though)

Description: A rising star in youth fencing, Jyn Erso was once on track to become an Olympic-level athlete. But then, age 16, she quit unexpectedly. Her break from fencing unraveled her life. Three years later, she still refuses to discuss the subject, even with her father, a former Olympic medalist, and her best friend, Bodhi, who’s just returned from competing in the Olympics. It’s fine, it’s working -- until she meets Cassian Andor, the kindest, most interesting person she’s ever been around. Except for one problem: he’s also an Olympic-level fencer. 

Snippet below the cut! (Warning, it’s sort of a sad scene.)

“Hey Bodes — what’s up?”

“How’s the date going? You need to bail?”

She glances back towards the kitchen. She can kind of see Cassian through the door. “Nope. Couldn’t be better. Actually, it could be — you sorta interrupted — ”

“First of all, stop right there. Second of all, you asked.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Bodhi.”

“I’m happy for you, though.” He pauses. “But for the record, if you were worried about this guy you could have at least given me his name.”

“You know that ruins the magic,” she says.

“Do you want a follow up call in an hour just in case?”

Still glancing through the kitchen towards Cassian, she says, “I think I’ll be okay, but thanks.”

“Wow. I look forward to meeting this guy soon.”

“You wish. Focus on your own love life.”

“Actually, I did meet someone.”

“What! Who? When?”

“I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours.”

“That’s very sneaky for you.”

“Learned from the best. But seriously, enjoy your date, text if you need anything.”

“Thanks again. You’re the best.”

“I know.”��

With that, they hang up. Grinning, Jyn starts back towards the kitchen, but her foot snags on something and she trips. She catches herself before totally embarrassing herself, but then she goes to tuck the strap out of the way when she sees what it's connected to: a large, black, rectangular bag, with wheels on one end.

Most notable, however, are the bold letters printed in all caps on the side: HONDO FENCING GEAR. 

Eyes wide, she backs away as if she’s seen a ghost. 

“No,” she whispers. “No, no, no.”

She looks back into the kitchen. Cassian still has his back to her. She closes her eyes, squeezes them shut as tight as she can, then opens them like maybe the offending bag will be gone.

That’s when she notices the second one, right next to it. His roommate fences too. 

She’s untying the apron before she even realizes it, unknotting it and unwrapping the straps frantically. The person it belongs to is so tall — epee, her mind tells her. They fence epee.

For a moment she’s transported back in time. The Junior Olympics, five years ago. His hair is buzzed shorter and he has no scruff on his chin, but yeah, she remembers now. She remembers watching the men’s epee final, Steela at her side, praising how clever the fencer on the left was, the one with ANDOR printed on the back of his white jacket in bold blue letters. She remembers him taking off his mask, remembers him being awarded the gold medal. 

No no no...

One hand goes to her lips as the other grips the scrunched up apron. She looks back at Cassian, totally oblivious, cooking their meal without her as she takes this call. Their meal for two. 

Does he recognize her? She’d only been fourteen then. He was probably — what — eighteen? Yeah, because she hadn’t seen him the following year. She paces. What if he’s known who she was all along? What if this is some weird sort of recruitment tactic? 

No, no, that is paranoid nonsense. Even after all these years, she still sounds like Saw. She runs her hands through her hair. 

Assuming he’s innocent, that he has no idea who she is, it’d be awful to flee on him now. But she also doesn’t think she can handle a relationship with a fencer. It’s too much — she can barely even talk to Bodhi about fencing. And if he’s still at all as good as he was back then, he probably lives, breathes, and eats fencing. It’s astonishing it hasn’t come up at all yet, really. That’s how’d she’d been, anyways, when she’d been at her prime. It was all she ever talked about. 

“Everything okay?”

She looks up, like a deer in headlights, her hand still fisted in her hair and the apron crushed in her fist. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost…” Cassian says. He seems genuinely worried. 

She lets go of her hair. Takes a deep breath. “I…” Another deep breath. “I’m really sorry. There’s been an emergency. I… I have to go. I…”

“Oh.” His face falls. “Is there anything I can help you with? Can I take you anywhere? Do you want someone—”

“No!” It comes out too forceful. She lowers her voice. “No, that’s alright. But thank you. It’s too…”

“Personal?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” She sighs. She can’t believe she’s doing this to him. She’s about to walk out on possibly the kindest, most interesting, most attractive person she’s ever had the opportunity to date, just because what? Because he happens to be good at something she also, once upon a time, was good at? 

No, it’s not that simple. Her break from fencing unraveled her life. She needs to learn to move on, maybe, but that’s not fair to him. More unfair than leaving him like this, with a half-finished meal for two still cooking on his stove. 

Tears welling in her eyes, she takes a final look at him: that blue apron, his rolled up sleeves, the concern in his eyes. Maybe, a long time ago, there could have been something great between them. But now, she can’t do it.

“I’m sorry, Cassian,” she says, handing back the apron. “I have to go.”

[antialiasis]

Dave and His Memories Discuss Mia (and Jean)

Back in 2007, when I was writing The Fall of a Leader for NaNo, there was one particular chapter that stuck out. In it, Shadowdart sat down contemplating the roots of his moral system. While I was writing this particular chapter, for whatever reason, I got so intensely into his head that I genuinely felt like I was discovering something legitimately profound and important. By the time I was editing the story in January and got to that part again, it felt pretty unremarkable as a chapter. But the experience of writing it had been something unique. I’d never really felt like that writing before, and never felt it again... until this Saturday, that is.

It's a bit of a long story how that happened. For the past few months I've been participating in the Blacklight RPG on Thousand Roads, as Dave from Morphic, only as a Poochyena (because this is a PMD RP, where any participating humans are turned into Pokémon). Without getting into too much in the way of explanations, the other day on spur of the moment @unrepentantauthor and I started to privately roleplay an imagined interaction between Poochyena Dave and their character's father, a Delphox named Jesse Stranger, where they argue about which of them is less of a terrible father and are both being giant hypocrites going "NO U" at each other and it's great.

Anyway, at a certain point in the argument Jesse the Delphox uses Miracle Eye to mind-probe Dave about whether he's ever had 'violent thoughts' about his kids, and I sat down to write what he'd find. And it happened again! I spent three hours so in his head that I was full-on crying about his feelings and was shaking afterwards and everything. Like thirteen years ago, reading over it again afterwards it's like okay, this is not all that remarkable. But since this stands largely on its own and doesn't require any background knowledge of the RP, here it is anyway, for anyone interested in Morphic extras.

The formatting here is a bit unusual; I originally used Discord spoilers for some of the thoughts in the memories that he refuses to consciously acknowledge, the stuff that wouldn't show up in the narration of his POV of these scenes but is there anyway for a psychic to pick up on. Since Tumblr can't do those, I've replaced them with strikethroughs, which is not quite the same effect, but oh well.

What... what was he doing. Dave's ears flattened back against his head. Miracle Eye? What was that? Was he supposed to have any fucking idea what--

Everything fell in on itself, the Delphox's mind pressing against his own, finding faults, piercing them. He yelled out a panicked string of curses he couldn't hear. Fuck, fuck, what was happening--

--and then, suddenly, a memory. The echoing slam of a door, the unbearable screeching cry of an infant in his arms. she was gone, for good this time, and he knew it, fuck, he fucked it up every time, of course he fucking did Blinking rapidly and standing there and listening to the fucking interminable howls of this freak he never wanted and was somehow stuck with, thanks to these clownish fucking abortion activists. because he'd gotten drunk and fucking bragged about it at a bar, what the fuck was wrong with him A fleeting, angry thought as he looked at the baby, this flailing little bundle: Maybe Jane had the right idea. The mental image of just grabbing her by the ankle and tossing her off the balcony, watching her sail over the trees as the wailing receded into the night, or even just slamming her into the wall, a crack followed by heavenly silence. he didn't want this, he didn't want this, how was he supposed to take care of a fucking baby alone, he couldn't do this, fuck, maybe the police wouldn't even care when the baby wasn't fucking human, or he could just jump after her and get it over with--

His stomach clenched in revulsion, nausea crawling up his throat. What the fuck was this? He barely even remembered that night, hadn't thought of it in fucking years. He wanted to reach out and tear Jean away from this creep, just hold her and keep her safe and make sure nobody could hurt her, ever. Fuck, he just wanted to go home.

--and then a sudden unexpected yank into a series of other memories. Mia, four years old, no idea why she shouldn't hurt people; the abstract realization she was disturbed, weird, but also fascinating. She wasn't a monster; she was just different. Smart. She could figure it out, if he just explained in the right way if he failed that was a problem for later--

--watching the new game Mia and Lucy had invented for the first time a year later, the predatory glint in Mia's eyes as she pounced: it's a game, honestly it's just pretty cute, it's just the same as the little violent impulses they all have this might be more concerning when she has scythes but it's nothing to worry about--

--Mia, seven years old, little scythes beginning to poke out of her arms. Feeling almost giddy analyzing the X-rays: he'd been right, they were growing exactly as he'd predicted. Cheryl taking him aside, asking if she should be worried. No, of course not, she won't do anything, Lucy can stay insubstantial what if -- she won't, she's brilliant, she gets it--

--getting a call from the school, about how Mia, nine, had swiped and cut a girl's hair. Showing up to the principal's office, trying to placate the horrified parents. "She could've killed her!" "Of course she wouldn't have. She knows her own limits. It was just a game, like the games she plays with her sister. We'll talk to her about why she can't do that and that'll be the end of it." the hair's very close to the neck, fuck, Mia, what--

--looking at her in his car one day after one of their weird talks to offer her hotdogs, only to find her staring at him in the sort of way she stared at Lucy during their games, and when he asked what she was thinking she said she was hungry. "Just so we're clear here, when you say 'hungry' you mean 'let's get hotdogs', not 'I want to tear Dave's throat out and eat him', right?" "Both." Fear congealing in his stomach, blood running cold in his veins. She wasn't actually going to, and he knew it -- she was annoyed to even have to explain: "I like talking to you more than I'd like eating you." "That's great, but you can't eat people you don't like either." "I know." "Tell me why." -- but in his mind's eye he saw her lashing out, scythe through his throat, her sharpened fangs tearing at his windpipe, and felt so sick he couldn't breathe. Telling her to please not let him down please before exiting the car, extending his hand towards her and imagining her lunging again and every primal instinct in his brain telling him to get away, but no, she wouldn't, he knew that, and instead holding his hand firm until she took it if she attacked it'd be on him anyway--

--another call. She'd attacked a boy, put a pretty deep cut in his arm. His heart pounding in the office. Mia please don't fucking do this Somehow persuading the principal and the parents that it's a matter of childish impulse control, it's not like she wants to hurt anyone, she knows she shouldn't, they were thinking about making some sheaths for her scythes anyway kind of, maybe, he'd thought about it once and once that happened it wouldn't be a problem. Asking her about it in the car afterwards. Apparently it was this group of kids that kept harassing her about religion, of course it all came down to fucking religion, and she was just defending herself. Like she didn't have that fucking right -- but they talked about it anyway and it'd be fine and they'd make the sheaths Mia please--

--a pang of dread every time he got a call for a while, until at last the third one, when it was clear the principal had already made up his mind when he arrived at the office, and he argued fiercely anyway, they were provoking her, who even does that -- but then she expertly executed a fly on the wall and he couldn't even disagree anymore, she was probably better off homeschooled, and he took her home and they talked about religion on the way and he was glad he'd not have to get any more of these fucking phone calls, and then even fucking Howard was acting like it was all her fucking fault but it wasn't, she wasn't a monster, she was just Mia and she was weird but she was a fucking person and she was his best friend, taking her for hotdogs was like the best part of his week, he couldn't fucking lose her and it wasn't her fault, he'd made her this way and he'd figure it out--

--that horrible day of waking up to all of them gone but Lucy, off on a fucking suicide mission to rescue Gabriel, begging Jean to come home, realizing he'd fucking told them about the trap laid out for them, pacing around the house drinking whatever he could get his hands on trying to imagine they'd all be all right only all he could think was that they were all dying and he should go out there and do something except there was nothing he could do, he'd just be getting himself killed, and fuck, that was fine, fucking bring it, but they'd kill Gabriel too. The utilitarian calculus that rationally they should have just let them kill Gabriel so nobody else would die, they'd all fucking hate him forever but at least they'd be okay, but even then he just fucking couldn't, he was pretty sure Gabriel hated him already but Dave's heart still sank into a bottomless pit at the thought, and all he could do was cling to the fantasy that somehow everyone would be okay and try to drink enough to not remember the rest it'd be his fault, his fucking fault, he told them where to go--

--learning, from Jack's strained recollection of that day, that Mia had died with some kind of psycho fucking grin on her face after slitting somebody's throat, and feeling sick and pressing his lips together as he sat there, but it wasn't her fault, it wasn't her fault, it wasn't her fault, she was fucking unique and he loved her and if they hadn't shot her three times in the head he'd be fucking taking her and driving off, getting her out of the country, he didn't care, they couldn't take Mia he'd made her that way and he hadn't said the right things to her and he'd fucking told them where to go like a fucking idiot--

See, Dave thought, fiercely, in the middle of it, she wasn't a fucking monster, I never thought she was a fucking monster, all I ever wanted was to keep her fucking safe.

[junipersgarden]

metanoia 1. | Recover

PAIRING: Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader

SUMMARY: 8 months later from Tony’s funeral and the promise Peter and you made, where do you two stand now?

WORD COUNT: 4119 words

WARNINGS: N/A?

a/n: i did not expect this to blow up so quickly so thank you all sm!! ill be updating every Friday/ re uploading from Wattpad and converting it to here!! hope you enjoy this chapter and ill see you next Friday ; )

[NOT MY GIF] 

...

8 Months Later...

...

"I have a plan. Okay. First, I sit next to Y/N on the flight."

"Mhm."

"Second,  I'm gonna buy a dual head phone adapter and watch movies with her the whole time."

"Okay."

"Three, when we go to Venice; Venice is super famous for making stuff out of glass right?"

"True."

"So I'm going to buy her a white gardenia necklace because it's a really pretty flower and... because... well-"

"Is it because of the-?"

"Because of its meaning yeah. Step 4 is when we're in Paris, I'm going to take her to the top of the Eiffel Tower, give her the necklace and 5, I'm gonna tell her how I feel. And 6, hopefully she tells me she feels the same way."

"And don't forget Step 7."

"Step 7?" Peter questions and clicks the top of his pen to write down Step 7, ears perked to listen to Ned.

"Don't do any of that."

Peter lets out an annoyed and frustrated sigh as Ned gave him a look that expressed 'what? what did i do?'

"Why?"

"Because we're gonna be bachelors in Europe Peter!"

"Ned."

"Look, I may not know much, but I do know Europeans love Americans."

Peter had little belief in Ned's statement that he scrunched up his face and looked at Ned.

"Really?"

"-And more than half of them are women!" Ned exclaims to make his point.

"...Sure but, I really like Y/N man. She's awesome, she's super funny like in a kind of dork way, and whenever she looks at me I feel like- she's coming over don't say anything!" Peter quickly shuts himself up.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Don't say anything!" Is the only thing you hear as you walked up to Peter and Ned's table.

"Sup guys? You excited for the science trip?" You greet them, rocking your body with a smile planted on your face, your assignment folder occupying your hands. Technically you got up from your, F/N's and MJ's table so you could photo copy your guy's group project but you heard Peter and Ned rambling about Europe and thought you could start up a conversation.

"Hey! Uh, yeah! We're just talking about the trip."

"Yeah and Peter's Plan." Ned confidently slides in the conversation.

Peter's Plan?

You stop moving and shift yourself to Peter, averting your eyes so yours meet his.

"...You have a plan? For what?" You nervously smile and laugh at him, playing with your bracelet on your wrist. The bracelet was silver but held a black cross (similar to a crucifix) in the middle of it.

"I- I don't have a plan." Peter mumbles, fiddling with his pen and looking at you with anxious eyes.

"No he's just gonna collect tiny statues while we're travelling to other countries." Ned blurts out and you can see he exchanged a look to Peter.

"I didn't know you liked-" You stopped speaking immediately, your response lost in your mind, something else distracting you.

You looked past Peter's head and your eyes meet with the dozens of drawings and tributes to Iron Man, to Tony and his sacrifice.

It seemed like yesterday you were on the battlefield, when you found out Peter was Spider-Man and all of those emotions and memories swept and flooded your mind in a tidal wave.

You can feel the whole room spinning even though your feet were planted on the ground, the voices of Peter and Ned fading as the sobs of Peter replaced them and Tony's dying breath.

It's been 8 months and you thought you had finally moved on from all the grief and suffering, the sleepless nights full of insidious nightmares and the suffocating feeling that came from all those panic attacks.

"You can rest now..."

"Did you photo copy it?" Someone asks and you whirl yourself around suddenly and possibly too fast, loosing balance and landing into someone's arms. F/N.

"Oh shoot sorry F/N I was talking to Ned and Peter about Europe and got side tracked?"

"It's okay! I was just checking since MJ was sorta getting antsy since she wanted it to all be done before you guys leave tomorrow." F/N beams at you, still holding you up.

"I-I'll go do it now-"

"Y/L/N, did you firstly ask me and secondly get a hall pass?" Ms. Warren spoke up and alarmed you. She was sitting at her desk and was staring at the 4 of you.

"N-No Ms. Warren..."

"I'll go!" Peter shot straight up from his seat. Ned shook his head and F/N laughed at his eagerness.

"No Parker you've got work to do. Y/L/N, Davis can take you."

Davis... Brad Davis?

Just on cue, Brad lifted his head up from being preoccupied at his desk and sent you a friendly smile and wave. He stood up immediately and from his demeanor, seemed over the top that the teacher asked him to escort you to the printers. He looked so familiar but no matter how heard you tried, you couldn't conjure where you'd seen him from.

Brad walked over to you and was still smiling from before so you nicely smiled back. Brad offered you to go first so you walked to Ms. Warren's desk and grabbed the huge hall pass with Brad trailing after you.

"We won't be long Ms. Warren!" Brad yelled out as he closed the classroom door.

You shot F/N a look that said 'okay guess i go and also what just happened?' and F/N shrugged back with no explanation and return back to MJ. You saw Peter looking at you as you left and saw him sigh heavily and immediately get back to his work. I hope Peter's okay.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The cold, crisp breeze whirled through the dim lit streets of Queens as you walked back home;  the streets were always alive at night with people hurrying from one place to another, lights shine brightly, beaming against tall, towering buildings and billboards, apartments until rooftops could reach the sky. New York was always cold in the night and what lurked in the darkness was even colder. Robberies, assaults and muggings were a regular sighting in alleyways but with yourself as Saviour and Peter as Spider-Man, the number has been decreasing over time thanks to the both of you. School was weird today with the whole Peter and Ned thing and especially with Brad. He was nice taking you to the printers but he kept asking way to many questions about you and you caught him staring a couple of times... weird.

You gripped your coat tightly around you, wrapping it as much as you could around your body to fight the wind, shivers being sent down your spine. Your mind had been blurry lately; balancing the lifestyle of school, social life and duties into one while trying to properly rest and to be there whenever anyone needed you was a struggle; the biggest fear you had was if you just took one, innocent day off that'd you regret it for the rest of your life. You also found it hard to escape your thoughts,  insecurities and nightmares whenever you'd zoned out or even closed your eyes for a second. Despite it all you had your anchors though; the people who were holding you down from losing yourself from all the madness happening. You slip out a smile at the thought of those special individuals; friends that you put above anything or anyone else. Peter, Ned and even Michelle were all you had and all you were relying on to help you back up.

"Help! Someone!" A stranger cries into the night, pleading for a saviour, followed by the sound of gunshots and glass shattering.

Show time.

Reacting instantly, you check for your surroundings before fleeing into the shadows of a lonesome alley and with a single flick of your bracelet, it lets of a white glow, letting you know its activated.

"Hello Ms. L/N, how may I assist you tonight?"

"You know the drill ARIS: suit up."

"Right away Y/N."

On command, the familiar cool and sensational feeling of the nano tech being released from your bracelet began spreading all across your body; you loved the feeling of your suit coming alive just by wishing it, AI on the ready and that the suit was also with you, being a part of you.

As you relished in the moment your suit was fully on your body, you rushed out of the alleyway, concealing your true identity under your mask, prepared to fight,  you begin to follow the cries of the citizen in need.

You felt your heart beat and pace fasten, senses heightened and the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

A shift in your vision changes as you feel your pupils fill fully black and steady themselves with your mask lenses,  you exert all your energy into a singular jump and successfully land on the rooftop.

"ARIS, scan for location of activity."

"The distress signal appeared from 21st Street."

Ahhh, classic bank robbery.

"Okay ARIS, are all systems ready to go?"

"Affirmative. Initiating heads up display and initializing flight power."

You roll your head back and crack your knuckles, jumping up and down on the spot, ready for take off.

Nodding your head, you extend your arms out and feel the palms opening up and see the infinite blue glow from your thrustsers and feel the energy spreading and going to the soles of your suit.

Staring down the run way of the roof, you start walking before speeding up into a full sprint, running across the abandoned roof top. Steps quickening, you can see the end of the roof nearing with each step you take; you're going to jump. Before you know it you've leapt off the roof and it feels like time has stopped and you're floating on nothing; it's only you, the sky and the city's blurred noises and lights.

"Flight power fully restored."  ARIS states, crashing and hauling you back into reality.

The euphoria of you floating has started to turn into the immense awareness that you are plummeting straight down with such speed to the lively streets and roads of New York below.

Extending your arms and legs, you point them into the direction of 21st Street and hear the whirring of your suit taking control and then, you're off. You're flying, just like Tony did, in the late night sky of New York City to stop a robbery.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Positioning yourself, your eyes meet with the victim in front of you; the typical situation.

"Hey."

The criminals all stop with their actions and immediately turn their heads to you. The hostages look up at you with hope and desperate, tears of fear and joy being to stream from their eyes.

"Looks like you forgot your credit cards huh fellas?"

2 out of the 4 robbers stand up and you took the chance to fire an energy blast, distracting them you slide on your knees towards the captives.

"Go! Go!" You beckon as you freed them from their constraints, they hurried out of the door shouting 'thank you's'  and praises for your service and gratitude.

Getting up from the ground quickly, you turn around and see the 2 robbers running toward you.

You spring off the floor, back onto your feet and observe your surroundings; the 2 robbers are still sprinting towards you. You ball your fists and stance yourself ready to fight.

"Guys, guys, guys! You can either return back the money and nothing happens or we can do this the annoying and hard way."

One of the robbers racing towards you pulls back their gun and you hear a gunshot and feel a little ting and flick on your suit; the robber was really dumb enough to shoot you and your bulletproof suit.

"Well, guess you chose the hard way."

The 2 robbers still at full speed rush towards you but before they can even touch you, you step to the side and they loose control and crash into the wall.

"Ooooh! That's at least gotta leave a bruise.' You mock them.

You dart towards the fallen robbers, dizzy and dazed from the impact. You hit your right wrist twice on your suit and it opens up and greets you with what you were looking for; your trusty tool and invention of electric rope. The rope appeared as a blue wire with white sparks that shot out of it and you used it to tie up criminals and lets say if they were to hesitate or make a runner, they'd get a bit of a shock.

Grabbing the 1st and 2nd robber's hands, you wrap the wire around them both so they are both stuck together and unable to escape.

2 down, 2 to go.

The other 2 robbers that were still looting money had stopped since they'd heard the crash and the groaning of pain from the one's you'd taken on.

One robber stands up and places his fingers in his mouth and whistles.

You tilt your head in confusion but see that 3 more step out from the remaining safes.

"Aww brought more of your friends for me? How sweet..."

They all attack you at once, bullets ricochet off you and bounce back, flying back at them.

In unison they all duck down behind a counter from the bullets and curse out profanities and you take the opportunity to dash forward and leap onto the counter and land in front of them.

They all jump to their feet and a robber steps in front of you and tries to land a hit. You grab their arm and twist it and they let off a howl of anguish, you tasered him with your bracelet and flipping and throwing him to the floor.

Another takes his place and goes to hit you but one from behind tackles you and pins your arms, locking them in a firm and harsh grip.

Even through the suit, you can feel sharp fingernails attempting to latch and pierce you.

The guy in front of you clutches a solid grasp on both of your shoulders, forcefully yanks you down into his knee and hits your stomach. Already you can feel a bruise forming on your lower abdomen.

Jesus this one will be hard to cover...

You groan at the extensive, burning sensation building, your skin becoming tender and aching from the hit. The guy holding your arms down is tightening his grip and

"Given up huh Saviour?" The robber in front of you spits.

"T-that's the thing...." You let out a breathless chuckle, "I'm only getting started."

The robbers stare at each other and back before laughing furiously at you, the rest approaching you with guns.

What the robbers were thinking is that they'd won; they had successfully robbed Queens County Saving Bank and had taken down one of Queen's own superheroes. You on the other hand, had plans and knew perfectly well how criminal's minds worked; allow them to think they've won, they'll loose all focus and control on the situation, so you'd gotten them in the spot you wanted them: busy getting ready to celebrate a fake victory and not realizing the black smoke manifesting around them.

"As I said, I'm just getting started." A smirk lies on your covered face as you look deeply into the taunting robber's eyes full of bewilderment and fear.

The black smoke begins flurrying around your body finds it way around the robber's hands, instantly making him let go you. You lunge forward and punch the one in front of you with full power, he stumbles back and falls to the ground defeated. You then sharply turn and kick the other in the face.

The two out of the three still left go to attack you but you raise your arm in defense and send a gust of smoke flying to them. They stagger back and remain frozen as the smoke curls around and drags them to the ground. You rush over and deploy more of your rope onto the two and wrap it tightly around them, restraining them to the one place.

The last robber you spot is kneeling on the ground, trembling slightly with fear and piling as much money possible into one bag, trying to make a clean getaway.

Slowly and antagonistically, you make your way over to him and stand there, staring at him and waiting for him to notice. So busy and frantically he continues filling the bag he doesn't take care of his surroundings or even the cries of his comrades.

"I'll take that thank you." You cleanly snatch the bag and kick him to the ground with your heel.

He lands flat on his chest, hands out to the side you grab them and wrap them around once more.

People emerge from hiding and cry out cheers of joy and appreciation, a few giving you a pat on the shoulder, hugging you and the occasional asking for photos. The sound of police sirens ring in the distance, signaling its time to go. Waving your goodbyes, you turn to flee the scene but you hear and notice the vibration of a tap being played on your suit. You pivot back around and see one of the bank accountant's smiling frailly at you, evidently anxious and nervous in your presence.

"T-thank you so much Saviour, how ever can we repay you?" The accountant's eyes full of tears and lost distress begged.

"You don't need too; this is my job. Saving people's lives is what I do." You reply to the accountant, taking off into the night.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"You did quite an excellent job tonight might I say so myself Y/N."

"Why thank you my Another, Rather, Intelligent System."

"Was that perhaps what you call, a flex?"

"...Yes ARIS, that was a flex." You mumble with a hint of embarrassment.

Currently soaring in the air with another criminal taken down, the fresh and cool wind rattles against you. Patrols were always 'relaxing' in a sense to you; gliding around the city and if your AI or you come to the attention of any law breaking activity, you swoop in (literally) and handle it. At times, you would bump into now and then into Spider-Man and the two of you mixed with your skills, would work together as a dynamic duo to take down the enemy. Queens loved and adored the both of you as individuals but as partners as well. Before knowing Peter was Spider-Man, there was a bit of tension and jealously and bickering from both of you: 'Dibs I had him first!' 'No, you know I patrol this area!' arguments occurred so many times that even the Avengers were pulled into it.

"I apologize for interrupting your thinking but it seems to be you have approximately 3 missed calls from your mother and from Pepper Potts accordingly."  

Missed calls from Mum is bad but wait- Pepper called?

"W-when did they call ARIS? Any voicemails?"

"Your mother called to say to be home earlier from 'study group' to prepare for Europe tomorrow and that not to miss dinner again... which you did and Ms. Potts left nothing for you."

"C-can you auto text Mum that study group when longer than expected and that Y/F/N's offered dinner so I stayed and that I'll be home soon?"

"Already on it and for Pepper?"

"Don't text her anything."

"Text sent."

Pepper? The Pepper Potts? It's been 8 months; what does she want and is that Peter?

Drifting down from the air, you land quietly behind a wall and crouch down behind it,  peering out carefully and you see Peter in his Iron Spider suit, eyes red and wet with tears as he stares at a piece of graffiti.

What's so bad about- oh.

The piece of artwork was of Tony; no wonder he was so distraught.

"You okay Spider-Man?"

"Y-yeah, I j-just c-crashed into a w-wall?" His voice high pitched, obviously lying.

"Uh huh... mind if I sit?"

"O-oh uh... no! No, you can sit!"

Giggling at Peter's awkwardness, you slide next to him and take a seat. You knew something was wrong by the way he was breathing and that his eyes were wet and red but how do you bring it up?

"So..."

"So...?"

"H-how is everything Spidey?" God that was awful.

"T-things could be s-so much better... just, the whole Blip thing is, it's getting to me."

"Blip?"

"The Blip? W-where the alien guy on Titan s-snapped his fingers and e-everyone d-disappeared?"

"Wait that's called the Blip?"

"Well that's what everyone is calling it."

"It sounds better than something to do with a maniac murdering half of the Earth's population... plus it's easy to say and remember."

And for the first time in a long time, you actually heard Spider-Man and Peter laugh. It was more of a sad and dry chuckle but, at least it was something.

"I'm assuming you didn't hear about 21st Street then?"

"21st Street what now?"

"Just now there was a robbery; apparently some of uhhh, what's his name? The macho, pacho penguin looking guy? Sends out his henchmen to do all the dirty work?"

"K-Kingpin?"

"Yeah! Pretty sure that's the one! But, really? Kingpin? Sounds really dumb; reminds me of bowling or something instead of an evil business man."

"His head does look like a bowling ball..." Peter murmured quietly.

You smiled brightly and threw your head back as you laughed; that's the Peter and Spider-Man I know.

From his mask, you could tell he was smiling since the corner of his mouth was showing the little peaks from out of it.

Your and his laughter began to die down you two just stayed silence  and looked up into the cloudless sky.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

"It really is... makes my night."

"And mine as well, I mean besides your company." Spider-Man, well more like Peter coughed, trying to cover up what he said.

"T-thank you though.. this was a nice chat Saviour. Not to alarm you or anything, but I'm not gonna be here much longer-"

"W-woah, what the hell do you mean-"

"N-no! Sorry, I worded that wrong don't panic! What I meant to say is I'm not going to be here because, I'm going on vacation."

Parker I swear...

You lightly hit his shoulder and let out a breath of relief. "Don't scare me like that! I did not need that!"

"S-sorry! B-but yeah... I'm going on vacation.. can you handle Queens without me?"

"I already do. Besides, there's always the other Avengers who can."

"Y-yeah... the Avengers... a-anyways Saviour, I-I'm gonna go now. I'll s-see you soon?"

"See ya Spidey and don't go crashing into any walls!"

"When did I- oh."

"Ratted yourself out. Bye Spideyyyyy!" You call out and wave as you watch him swing away and make tracks home yourself.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"I dunno how I did it, but I snuck back in ARIS."

"Well, your mother is asleep-"

"Shhh lemme have this!"

"... Congratulations Y/N."

"Thank you ARIS-"

"Even though I do not condone this behaviour."

Rolling your eyes, you shrug your body and switch your bracelet and your suit slowly peels away from your body, the nano- tech shrinking so it all fits inside the bracelet. You stretch your body but wince from your stomach. Cautiously, you lift your shirt and see the enormous bruise left on you from the robber and his knee.

Bye, bye crop tops...

Plopping yourself on your bed, you lie down and sigh in exhaustion. Closing your eyes slowly, you feel yourself falling to asleep. Until the chime of your best friend's ringtone plays from your phone which causes you to lurch up and open your phone to look at the text.

from: F/N ✌️

yeah.... i'm really sorry that I can't go to Europe...

from: you  

i get it, it's totally fine! your family needs you.

don't feel bad trust me it's all g.

from: F/N ✌️

...if you say so dude. just, have a great time,

take photos and promise to text me when you can?

from: you

you know I will 😤

from: F/N ✌️

kk. well, I better go. it's late and unlike you, people have school tomorrow.

from: you

haha, very funny... well, goodnight nub > : (

from: F/N ✌️

see ya geek : P

Reaching over you place your phone back on the charger and look at the ceiling and sigh.

New York has been chaotic since the Snap- Blip. The Blip. And the amount of crimes has only doubled since before then and everything with school and my friends, Ned, MJ, F/N and Peter and oh god...

Hopefully Europe gives me a break.

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

TAG LIST !! < 3

@eridanuswave

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

[runningwolf62]

@wardencommanderrodimiss @pachelbelsheadcanon

The new chapter is here featuring emotional whiplash and allegiances finally.

On AO3

What happens next is a series of incidents so coincidental and yet so perfectly aligned Larry would be tempted to call it fate. He had headed to a book store to chill and he would swear he’d just gone in to look for a book for Nick or Edgey as a Christmas present. Nothing dramatic, he’d just been caught up on his word count for the day and he’d wanted to shop and treat himself and get things out of the way so he didn’t come out of December confused and lacking presents for anyone.

And while he was there he’d remembered his promise to himself to get Tallstar’s Revenge, after WolfDragon had recommended it. So there he was in the children’s section, looking through the Warrior cats section - which he had half a mind to sort because someone respected neither series nor numbers and honestly it was a disaster trying to find anything, was this supposed to be alphabetical, because he was not going to find Tallstar’s Revenge at all like this - when the book caught his eye.

The Magic Bottle.

A simple title really, but the art on the cover was beautiful. Larry abandoned the Warrior Cats books for a moment to pick up this one, whoever the cover artist was they were fantastic at their job because Larry was for sure curious now. He flipped it over to scan the back, and cracked it open.

Well it turned out Elise Deauxnim could both write and draw, and Larry was enthralled. God where had she been when he was a kid, this shit was fantastic. He ended up buying it and after asking a worker, maybe making an excuse of shopping for a niece (listen that was the simplified version of what Pearl was and if he liked the book this much he might tell Nick to get it for her for Christmas so you know, valid) he also got Tallstar’s Revenge.

Now Tallstar’s Revenge was great, especially by Warrior standards, but he kept coming back to The Magic Bottle, the art, the characters, the pacing, it was fantastic. It made him want to write kid’s books.

Why not? You’re a really good writer and it’s not like you’re unfamiliar with kid’s lit

Thanks!

But she’s super good and I wouldn’t even know where to begin!

Stripes stop selling yourself short you’re a fantastic writer

Stripes?

I’ve mentally called you that for years deal with it

I guess it beats Orange.

“Graypaw what have I told you about talking to basketballs”

What?

Okay I’m sending you that parody as soon as I find a link to it but you should go for it! You’re talented currently inspired also unemployed

Thanks

Hey, I meant now more than ever is your chance

So what should I do?

Google this author see what else she’s written and maybe write her some fan mail

“Hi I’m a twenty-something dude, huge fan”

Look Mr. smartass if you don’t want my help

I’m just worried I’ll come off as weird!

Then lie, say it was for a nephew or something and you were really impressed too and it made you want to try writing children’s lit, how did she get started

Think she’ll answer?

She might

Worth a try

Well I did read it so only fair I review it.

Atta boy, go get ‘em

Larry grins to himself and does exactly as Wolf suggested, googling Elise Deauxnim to find that she had a PO Box. With some help and a little more encouragement from Wolf, he sends off the letter. Then he tries to calm down by focusing on his NaNo, which is mostly just him writing oneshots and a chapter or two of the fic. He hasn’t brought in Godot yet because he’s not sure what the absolute hell is going on there and he doesn’t like thinking about that day in court. He keeps sending out his resume but after how he lost his last job he’s thinking it’s a good thing he has as much in savings as he does, and he’s thinking about emergency commissions.

Until the letter arrives. He’s not sure he believes what he’s seeing but a photo sent to Wolf on discord proves that not only did Elise Deauxnim not think he was a creepy loser, she was encouraging him. She wanted to see some of his art and writing so she could tell him where he might find some agents interested in him.

DUDE

RIGHT I’M FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW!

AGGHHHH!

That’s amazing!

AGGGHHH!

I told you you were an amazing author

OH GOD WHAT DO I SEND HER

Not the Warriors Fanfic

OBVIOUSLY

Look, take a deep breath, and like, think of a story

Doesn’t have to be great, just some kids story thing

Do some art with it

Oh god, dude that’s terrifying, every idea I had just vanished.

Alright, listen you don’t have to write the damn thing just the first three pages of something

Uh, what are kids into these days?

Great question

I’m super good at drawing cats, what do I do with that?

Write Warriors but gay

Don’t we call that Wings of Fire?

Shots fired

More seriously, what do I do with that?

Well you’re good with a very open world series with a set of rules that is easily adapted to a setting

And cat anatomy

So I’d take those elements and make it into something

That’s a horrifying Chimera.

…

You know, that could be a plot hook

What?

Well like kids love monsters right?

Write a series with a Chimera as the main character, it’s part lion

Dude, you’re a genius, I owe you my life, and the response of “no thanks I’ve seen it, I don’t want it” is probably valid

Well get to it writer-boy, you’ll do great

What he ends up with is a book series about various mythological monsters on an adventure, and an offer from Elise Deauxnim to be an apprentice under her. He says yes, of course. He moves out of his apartment and to a smaller and cheaper one closer to where she works.

It’s awkward at first, on both ends. He can tell he’s not what she expected but he tries. She helps him with his writing, telling him what his strengths are first and then slowly moving to where he needs some polishing. It’s still strained though.

The breakthrough comes one afternoon, when Larry’s phone alarm goes off. He reaches over, swipes it off, and then flips the sketchbook page he’s on to start drawing something else.

Elise, - she insist he call her Elise which is weird to him but she’s a firm but matronly woman and so he obeys – looks up at the sound.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he offers a quick sheepish grin but she only looks more confused.

“Did you force yourself to get a drawing complete in a certain amount of time? You know that won’t make it turn out well.”

“Oh, no,” Larry flips back to the previous drawing to show her that it’s far from complete, “I got art block so rather than sit here and think about how I had the perfect image if I could only draw it for the next hour I worked on something else for ten minutes.”

“You’re quite talented at drawing cats,” she remarks, and Larry grins.

“I’d hope after how long I’ve been drawing them.”

“So this ten minutes of drawing, does it help?”

“Kind of yeah,” Larry pulls his sketch book back to him, looking at the sketch of Cherrywing and Spiritstar, he should draw Maya and Mia sometime. Maybe- no probably not for Christmas but at some point he should. “It forces me to relax and focus on something else, and get the creative juices flowing while I work on something that’s just for me so there’s no pressure or anything. That’s why I can only do it for ten minutes or I’d never get any actual work done!”

“That’s very clever,” she’s focusing on him now and Larry can only shrug, it’s just something that’s worked for him.

“Are those your cats?”

Oh no.

“Uh no, they’re-” he scrambles for a moment, “they’re just cats.”

Elise looks at him with a look of doubt but doesn’t press, instead she turns her focus on the picture, her eyes softening as she looks at Spiritstar and Cherrywing sitting together, “you have a real talent for capturing the emotion of a scene, there’s something very peaceful and loving about it, even for a sketch.”

Larry blinks in surprise, “thank you!” That was very much what he had been going for and he was pleased that he had succeeded at such.

Elise smiles at him, “you have such a talent for landscapes too, the nature looks natural while still framing them.”

Larry rubs the back of his neck with a grin, “now you’re going to give me an ego,” he jokes but he hopes she understands how grateful he is.

By the way she looks at him she does.

-

Merry Christmas Nick!!

merry xmas

 Hey Maya, Merry Christmas!

Message failed to send.

Figures.

Message failed to send.

-

You okay man?

I

I appreciate your concern Larry but yes, I am fine

If you need to call just let me know

Before you joke yes I’m single this Christmas

That’s a kind offer but I am with my sisters

THERE’S ANOTHER ONE?!?

Her daughter has a dog named Phoenix

Holy shit

Quite

-

Merry Christmas Stripes!

Merry Christmas Wolfman!

-

Larry has to say, having your mentor frame and hang your finished and signed piece because she likes it so much is like having your parents hang art on the fridge but somehow a thousand times better.

They spend the winter working, her on her story and on helping Larry grow as an artist and writer and working on her own story.

Larry helps where he can with that, mostly by trying not to bother her when she looks busy but she does ask him to do some illustrations for her, citing his abilities with landscapes. He accepts and pours his heart and soul into it.

SHE’S GOING TO HATE IT

NO SHE WON’T JUST GIVE IT TO HER

AAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHH

Dude

Fine! Fine!

You’ve got this, you’re a really good artist and you’ve said she’s proud of you

As she should be

So you’ve got this

Thanks man

Go get it writer-boy

You gonna buy my book Wolfman

Of course

Larry can’t help but smile at that.

But you’ve got to publish it first

Rude.

Larry tucks his phone into his pocket and hands the portfolio over to Elise. She accepts them with a smile and begins to flip through them, seeming oblivious to Larry’s nervous shuffling. She pauses at one and studies while Larry does his best to not explode or start nervously babbling.

“These are beautiful,” she remarks and Larry can feel his shoulders sag in relief, “you’ve done fantastic work.”

“Thank you, I went to the park a lot to try and get all the details right.”

“It shows,” she continues to leaf through them, Larry feels more confident so he begins to point to details he feels proud of or wants to make sure she notices.

“These are just the illustrations my book needed if you’ll allow me to use them.”

“I, uh, yes!” Larry stares at her eyes about to jump out of his skull, wait until he tells Nick! He’s successful now, look at him!

Elise laughs fondly and hands them back, “hold on to these and let me talk to my agent but that’s exactly the kind of work I couldn’t find anywhere else, your watercolor style is just what I needed.”

Larry is going to cry and just manages to thank her long enough for him to slip out and tell Wolf everything.

I’m proud of you Stripes

I’m proud of me! I feel like I’m really making myself a new person!

He’s tempted to also tell Nick but he decides to wait. To drop the book on Nick’s desk at his office. That’s how he’ll do it.

Okay so get this

Yeah?

Apparently my last name “can’t be taken seriously by publishers”.

And I thought elementary school kids were hurtful.

Oh my god

So she’s going to have me use her last name.

WHAT

Her publisher loves the idea too.

Makes me look like family.

Which sells or something?

Hey I’ll take it, I’m getting paid.

So what name should I keep an eye out for

Larry pauses, they’ve never told each other their real names, years of being Wolf and Stripes and now occasionally Writer boy and Wolfman on top of having internet safety drilled into them has always stopped them.

Look for Laurice Deauxnim.

As your number one fan I want a signed copy at some point

-

“Larry,” he looks up from his typing craze at the sound of his name, he’s made a lot of progress on this chapter and with Elise’s help he’s hoping to get it done and sent to publishers by May. That’s his new year’s resolution, getting published this year.

Elise pauses her typing and he hears her sigh. He looks up to her, her face is set and determined but when she looks to him he thinks he sees regret.

“Larry, I’m afraid a situation has come up and I know it’s very last minute but unless you want to come to a monastery with me I’m afraid you’re going to have to spend the next week or so without me.”

“What?” Larry feels a surge of panic not unlike the time he discovered he hadn’t saved in an hour, “a monastery? Why are you- where are you going?”

“Hazakura Temple,” she replies with a pause, Larry has never heard of it but he pulls it up on google quick enough. A teaser for an upcoming edition of the “Oh! Cult” Magazine pops up with some lovely images. Looks cold but interesting.

“Sure I’ll come. I’ve had art block for the past week maybe trying to do some temple scenes will help!”

Elise pauses and smiles kindly, “if you really want to…”

“I need some winter scene practice too,” Larry is not looking forward to wandering around the cold but Elise was going there for some reason, maybe he’ll find a muse there as well.

He flicks his finger over the picture hanging on the wall, the one that still made him smile to see there, “and I’ll give you a winter scene to compliment the summer one.”

Whatever hesitation Elise seems to be having vanishes as she laughs softly, “alright. Make sure to dress warm.”

And in honor of @pachelbelsheadcanon‘s fantastic art, here’s a list of the allegiances. 

SpiritClan

Leader

Spiritstar – a cream she-cat with darker paws and face

Deputy

Darkleaf – a dark brown tom

Medicine Cat

Cherrywing – a cream she-cat with darker striped paws and face

Apprentice: Splashpaw

Warriors

Firebirdstorm – a bright orange tabby with spikey fur

Orangestripe – an orange tabby tom with scruffy fur

Beetlelight – a brown tabby tom with a white chin

Apprentices

Splashpaw – a white she-cat with brown paws and face

 Demon’s Group

Demon – a dark gray tom with thick fur, especially on his chest, formerly Sharppaw of SpiritClan

Viper – a gray she-cat with cold blue eyes, formerly a rogue

Timber – a brown tabby tom with messy fur

Bird – a calico she-cat with mostly dark red patches

Wolf – large thick furred gray tom

[hithelleth]

For the top 3 meme, is it okay if I ask about two shows? Revolution and Timeless. Do whichever one you want :)

Of course it’s okay! Thank you! And I’l do both, if you don’t mind. ;)

Revolution:

top 3 favorite characters: Bass, Charlie, Jeremy

top 3 least favorite characters: Strausser, the sentient nano, and the Patriots as a whole

top 3 otps: come on, you know me, Miloe, Marlie, and Charm, and CM2 for good measure (and gratis my weird/unpopular non-canon ones: Bachel, Jeremy/Emma, and Danny/Bass), but mostly just Bass/happiness

top 3 notps: I don’t think I had a NOTP in this show? I mean, I wrote (implications of) even highly fucked up things like Strausser/Mia, so… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Maybe Julia/Doyle.   

top 3 brotps: Ahahahahahaha. *throws self into an abyss* *sobs* Because of course the first thing that came to mind was Miloe, but Miles doesn’t deserve it. Jeremy and Bass as the second doesn’t make me feel much better, either. So, maybe actually functioning BroTPs: Rachel and Aaron, Charlie and Nora (why, yes, this make feel so much better, too; gah I hate Charlie really lost everyone), Maggie and Miles (why did she have to die? She would be good for kicking his ass.)(OMG, and now I remembered all the Rachel/murder weapons and Miles/windows etc. fandom shenanigans.)

top 3 favorite episodes/chapters/scenes/games in series: episodes 1x3, 9, 10 or Jeremy outing Miles as general Matheson, the hallucinated Miloe hug, and ‘Hello, Charlotte’. Whoa, that was easy-peasy, once for a change

top 3 other things u think ppl who like this thing should watch/read/play: Highly recommended for writing team/general feel (+ diversity and all kinds of there awesomeness): Timeless (reasons below, for those who haven’t watched it yet, and let me just say Kripke & co. really learned from their past and majorly improved, but also did some of the usual tricks because otherwise it wouldn’t be Kripke).The 100: for post-apocalyptic storyline and if you want a handful of new favourite characters battling for survival; it’s also better written than Revolution (but certainly not without issues *glares particularity at S2*) and it has 5 seasons with the 6th in the making (although I haven’t yet seen S5, but apparenly all my faves survived it, I think? I’ll get to it, soon-ish. Or eventually.) Sea Patrol to ogle young DL (but do yourselves a favour and stop watching about five minutes before the end 3x01. Or be a masochist like me and watch through all five seasons when by the end only 4 (I think) members of the original crew survive) and I’m sure you can google David’s other shows on your own. :P That’s three already, but I have to add Salvation, because S1 had very Revo feel in all the good ways, but I don’t like S2 that much (although I’ve only watched 4 eps so far. One more thing to catch up to. *sigh*) and Killjoys (although this season has pacing issues (and maybe it’s too different from what it was like in the beginning, IDK.))(And I should probably also mention SPN, but if anyone hasn’t yet seen it, do yourselves a favour and stop watching after S5. *says I, who will most likely fall down the rabbit hole again in a month or so*)

my rating of this media out of 3, with 0 being lowest and 3 being highest: 1.5? Because as much as I love it, I’m the first one to admit it had writing and other issues galore. The first then episodes would get very close to 3, but the rest… *sighs*

Timeless:

top 3 favorite characters: Lucy Preston, Garcia Flynn, Rufus Carlin

top 3 least favorite characters: Carol Preston, Benjamin Cahill, Nicholas Keynes

top 3 otps: Lucy/Flynn/(Wyatt), Rufus/Jiya, Wyatt/Jessica

top 3 notps: I don’t think I had a NoTP here, either. Maybe Lucy/Noah, but we didn’t get to know Noah enough, maybe he was a good guy, in which case I don’t mind it at all. 

top 3 brotps: Rufus and Flynn, Denise and Mason, Lucy and Jiya

top 3 favorite episodes/chapters/scenes/games in series: 1x02, 1x16, 2x06

top 3 other things u think ppl who like this thing should watch/read/play: For time travel: maybe Legends of Tomorrow? OUAT (but I stopped watching in s5)? OUATIW (it’s only one season).For history: Miss Fisher’s murder Mysteries? Downton Abby? IDK, there isn’t anything quite like Timeless. (Why was it cancelled?!) Although, if you want a diverse show with a formidable adversary, well balanced plotlines among multiple characters with a sci-fi side, Sense8 comes to mind as maybe the closest. It has also been prematurely cancelled, but we got a finale that gave us a closure and made it a well-rounded show. 

my rating of this media out of 3, with 0 being lowest and 3 being highest: (at least 2.5 if not) 3

( Top 3 media ask. )

[strongblacklesbian]

wip meme

I was tagged by the lovely and talented @emkaywho, @ktrosesworld, @ofstormsandwolves, and @gingergallifreyan - thank you! 

If we went by everything I’ve left unfinished or promised a sequel for we’d be here for a while lmfao XD So these are the ones the muse actually gravitates to sometimes (not that it helps with motivation fml)

Not yet titled - Ten x Rose angst, Holly x mystery girl

This is the thing that I was writing the other night. A song came up on on pandora that got the muse’s gears turning. I’ve been mulling over this fic for months but hadn’t had the motivation to write it. It’ll be a short one, ficlet length. Here’s a little excerpt:

In the distant future in a galaxy far off, a little blue box waltzed with the stars as its pilot orbited the depths of her corridors. Alone. The commonly held misconception that hours passed quicker for a Time Lord was never crueler than after he said goodnight to his more mortal companions. He felt this acutely after saying goodnight to one mortal in particular. For good.

You’re Not Alone - Hardy x Rose murder mystery AU

Oh this fic. It deserves so much more love and attention than I’ve given it, the poor baby. And if anyone’s still interested in it, here’s an excerpt just to prove I do occasionally poke at it: 

This was routine, Rose reminded herself. It was nothing. Rose had done nothing wrong. These inspectors were merely doing their jobs and Rose got in the crossfire. She was here to help, she reminded herself. Breathe.

“Miss Tyler,” Rose grimaced but schooled her expression as she did her best to claw through the metal table, Alec’s changed title for her twinging in her ears like nails on a chalkboard, “this is chief inspector Ellie Miller. My supervisor.”

Darwin’s Treasure - Darwin x Holly pirates AU

@ktrosesworld deserved this fic a year ago but I got stalled when I started studying Holly more. I do wanna finish this. I just might change Darwin’s gender to do it bc that’s what the muse wants. These two are so friggin cute though I love them 

Just as if Darwin’s mere thoughts of her had the power to summon her, Holly appeared a moment later. The chestnut mare she shared a name with turned around and shamelessly brought up her hand from down at her side to be petted. 

“Good morning, Darwin,” she greeted. Her words always fell on his ears like a soft blanket on a winter morning. She giggled as her hand walked a slow path up the mare’s muzzle. “Yes, hello to you too, Holly. Have you been good to our Darwin today?” 

Darwin adjusted his spectacles and grinned sheepishly. “Erm, well. Yes. She, ah… Holly is always… she’s always kind.”

The Empty Hearts - Nine/Ten x Rose post regen kid!fic

I waffle about whether I’m actually gonna finish this. I started it as a NaNo project so it’s not posted yet. In this one, Nine and Rose have a kid and he’s a few years old with PotW happens so he sees his dad regenerate into Ten. Drama and adventure and family fluff and romance and stuff. My blog is speckled with excerpts of this fic lol. And here’s another one. 

“You just make these choices without talking to us first, like you know better than us, like it’s not important for us to know these things. That you… regenerate. I know you trust us so I don’t understand, Doctor.” 

Guilt welled up in the Doctor’s eyes, and he searched the thicket in the roof for strength that wouldn’t come. He relished in losing control, in letting his angry hearts run wild, taking his breaths to put through their paces. “I’m sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry. It is important. You’re important.”

“So why didn’t you tell us?”

Love Potion no. 9 - Nine x Rose Hogwarts professors AU

This started out as a ficlet and grew into its own story universe lol. I write installments of this when I get Nine or HP feels. It’s a fun universe, I like it. I typically write installments of this in one sitting and haven’t touched this one in a bit so I don’t have an excerpt of the next one. yet. 

Secret Diary of a Sex Therapist - Casanova x Hannah + sooo many DT/BP characters 

This started out as a bingo square from @studio-forty-two/ @teninchficawards. And then like so many things I touch, it exploded into a universe of its own. I don’t have an excerpt of this either but I can say how it opens up. The first chapter replaces Rise of the Cybermen/Age of Steel following GitF. The Doctor and Rose find themselves in a parallel universe in which Rose has a doppelganger, Hannah. But what they didn’t realize is that’s only scratching the surface. No telling when I’ll write this fic lol. We’ll see. 

A Moonlit Pact - Aiden x Rose 

Technically this is the lengthiest fic I’ve written that I’ve posted. At least parts of it. This is a weird thing. There are two versions, a roleplay and the fic. They’re set in the same verse but the events are paced differently and in same cases in different order. Honestly this is the only thing I really ever wanna write but it’s cowritten with @natural--blues so I have to wait 

This meme appears to have made its rounds? I think? If you wanna do it you’re tagged and mention me so I can see ^^

[eloarei]

More about writing

because it's a thing I like to do, and consequently like to talk about. So, with the exception of November last year (the first year I've successfully wrote the target 50k for NaNoWriMo), this is the most I've ever consistently written. I got 15k in May and so far 14k for this month, and most (if not all) of it was actually prose writing, not notes or blabbing. My current fic (the untitlted one that's labeled FO4NV right now) is 28,000 words! I'm so happy about that! I've never ever written so much on a single story contiguously. Obvs Rogue ended up being like 150k, but it took over 2 years and LOTS of me sitting around just thinking about writing. If I'd actually gone at it like this, I could have had it done in under a year. It would have been hellish haha but hey. So I am enjoying writing this much, but it's also really difficult. I know, I'm whining. 15K in a month only comes out to 500 per day, and that's not that much, I know! But consistency is really difficult. I have a super hard time with it, especially with my slightly weird schedule. Like this past weekend, we messed up our schedule so bad we ended up getting almost no sleep a few days, and then drastically over-sleeping a few other days, and I didn't get any writing done at all. But it's not the wordcount that I'm really focusing on anymore. I used to, but now that I'm pretty easily exceeding 10k in a month, I'm not really worried about it. (10k was my monthly goal.) Now my goal is just to finish chapters as quickly as possible. I give myself a week, and then if I can't finish it by then I add an extra hundred words each day to my daily wordcount goal. And even that's not enough for these damn chapters to get done. They're getting very long! At least I've got a decent plan for the fic... which I've only deviated from kind of? It's gonna be (read: should be) 17 chapters, broken up into 3 'acts', I guess you could say. 1-7, 8-10, 11-17. I'm maybe??? halfway through 7, but because it's a super pivotal chapter, I keep having to go back and make sure I've got all the information in order. Look, it's kind of a mystery and I'm having a bit of trouble remembering which character has learned what piece of information by any given point. ^^; I think today I'm going back to take notes. (It's especially hard because MC has two different sets of memories right now, and neither of them knows the full story. Lol what did I get myself into?) I was originally thinking of starting to post this story on Fathers' Day, since parenthood is kind of one of the main themes, but I wasn't online so I didn't get around to it. Better that way anyway; I think I'm gonna try to finish at least the entirety of 'act 1' before I start posting it. I'm really bad about taking months in between chapters, and I don't want to do that anymore, so I'd better just pace myself and wait. I SHOULD have the whole fic done by the end of October? Or the end of November, at least, because of NaNo. If I post it in batches by act, I might could wait another month or so and then post a patch per month. Well. * waves it off * I've got a plan. Anyway I guess I'd better go actually write my story today instead of just talking about it.